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dandylovesturtles · 3 months

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Made myself emotional over the “Leo and Donnie chose to be twins” headcanon.

———

“By the way, it’s Leo and Donnie’s birthday next Thursday. You’re coming, right?”

Draxum looked up from his work organizing next week’s lunch schedule to look at Michelangelo, sitting on the counter and swinging his feet. Celebrating individual birthdays wasn’t a thing that the yokai did, but Draxum had been forced to accept that the boys could not be dissuaded from this human tradition. He’d been to two birthday parties now, for Michelangelo and Raphael respectively, eating cake and presenting them with some small trinket he purchased.

He’d known that he would have to go to more birthday parties at some point. But he wasn’t expecting two at once.

“Why on the same day? I can’t imagine the blue one wanting to share.” Actually, he couldn’t imagine Donatello wanting to share, either.

“Oh,” said Michelangelo with a laugh. “That’s ‘cause they’re twins!”

Draxum stared at him. “Twins? What kind of nonsense is that?”

Mikey tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

“They’re entirely different species, for starters,” Draxum pointed out.

“I mean, we all are, but we’re still brothers.”

“Yes, by virtue of your shared DNA donor and the circumstances of your raising.” Draxum waved that off. “But “twins” refers to a situation where two children are born at once, especially as the result of a split of a fertilized egg. Which is absolutely impossible in the case of Leonardo and Donatello. Even if I were to be charitable and simply consider them “twins” for having the same hatch day, I can tell you they do not.”

“Uh, okay,” said Michelangelo, unimpressed. “But they’ve always been twins, so I don’t think it matters to them.”

“Why not? I would think it would matter to Donatello especially, since he claims to be scientifically minded.”

Michelangelo laughed. “Not everything is about science, Barry. Not even to Donnie.”

“Then his decisions about when to apply science and when not to are inconsistent and confusing.”

“Well, it’s their birthday, so they get to pick.”

“I am certain that is not how birthdays work.”

“It’s how it works for us!” Michelangelo slipped off the counter. “We’ll see you on Thursday, right? It’ll mean a lot to them if you come!”

Draxum was fairly sure Leonardo in particular would prefer he didn’t, but that didn’t matter. Now he had a mission: he had to correct this strange incongruence.

“Yes, I will be there.”

“Yay!” cheered Michelangelo. “Okay, see ya Dad!”

He squeezed Draxum around the waist on his way out. Draxum was finding he didn’t mind that as much as he used to.

———

Leonardo and Donatello’s party was just as loud and obnoxious as the other two. Blue and purple decorations covered every inch of the old subway station, strange music blared from unseen speakers, and a horrendous amount of junk food was spread out over a table. It was the same group of people present today as there ever was, the eclectic mix of humans and yokai that the boys considered family, but it felt like a crowd three times the size with the amount of noise being made.

Draxum stood off on his own for most of it, his slim birthday present already delivered to the table stacked with gifts. He’d been a little shocked when Donatello and then Leonardo came by to say hello, since he’d been prepared to be ignored by both of them. It was… nice, maybe, that they did that. Even if Leonardo just wanted to make jokes at his expense.

For most of the party, the two birthday boys seemed to be competing with each other for attention. In fact, the longer he took it all in, the whole affair seemed like a clash of ideas. The purple decorations were neat and tidy, geometric patterns and hard angles. The blue decorations were whimsical, uncoordinated, and haphazard, and there were places it seemed someone had deliberately covered up some of the purple with the blue. Leonardo wanted to play rock music and Donatello wanted to play techno. The cake was a mess because they’d both requested different themes for the decorations. There were arguments between the two of them every few minutes, and according to the human girl April this was “typical behavior.”

But why? They weren’t really twins. They didn’t have to share this day.

Hopefully Draxum’s plan would fix all this nonsense.

When it was time for gifts, Leonardo loudly declared that he was going first, sparking an argument. They squabbled for a bit before agreeing to play rock-paper-scissors, which was apparently what they did every year.

Leonardo won the game and celebrated obnoxiously while Donatello scowled at him. Then he gestured at the gift table - which Draxum, in his efforts to stay out of the main throng, was closest to.

“Hey, Barry! Grab me a gift! Make it a good one.”

Draxum sighed but reached over to take one of the blue packages, checking the tag to make sure it was for Leonardo. “This one is… to Leo from Donnie,” he read.

“Oh no, not that one. Our presents to each other are always last.”

“Because they always get sappy about it,” said April with a laugh.

“Do not!” yelled Leonardo at the same time Donatello hissed, “You take that back!”

“Uh, yeah you do, and you know I’m right.”

Draxum ignored the petty argument to look back at the gift table. If they weren’t going to be satisfied with his choice, he might as well give them his own gift.

He lifted it, in its sensible brown packaging, off the table and handed it over.

“Why not start with this? It’s to both of you from me.”

“Both of us at once?” asked Leonardo. “Oh man, you’re throwing off our whole system, Barry.”

“Yes, but he’s giving it to you,” Donatello pointed out, “which means my turn is still next.”

“Uh, no, if it’s for both of us then it counts for both of us, which means it comes back around to me!”

“Ooooh no, you do not get to loophole your way into opening two presents in a row-“

“Ahem!” Draxum loudly cleared his throat, getting their attention. “Would you please just open it?”

“Yikes,” said Leonardo. “Touchy.”

“Some people just don’t understand the sanctity of opening birthday gifts,” said Donatello with a sniff. But he leaned in to watch as Leonardo tore off the wrapping paper and opened the box.

They were both silent for a moment, staring at it. Then Leonardo said, “Uh, no offense, Barry, but what is this?”

“It’s a… scientific study on how twins are formed during the gestational period,” said Donatello, pulling the paper clipped thesis from the box. “Oh, there are more in here… Also about twins.”

“Uh…” Leonardo blinked at it, clearly bewildered. Well, he was always a bit slow. “Thanks…? I think?”

“Not that I don’t appreciate the scientific literature,” said Donatello, “but this isn’t really my area of study and Leo does better with training manuals and textbooks than research papers.” He looked up at Draxum. “Is there something about this we aren’t getting?”

“Yes there is,” said Draxum, sweeping his hand around at the entire party. “I am here to correct your mistaken assumption that you are twins.”

The room fell silent. Donatello set the paper back in the box, staring at him. Leonardo’s brow creased in anger.

“We are twins, though,” he said, setting the box aside like it was burning him.

“No, you are not. There is simply no way that the two of you could be twins. It is biologically impossible.”

“You think that I’m so stupid I don’t know that?” Donatello demanded, getting up from the chair he was sitting in. “Are you doubting my intelligence?”

“Yes, if you honestly think you are twins with him, then I am.”

“Uhhh, Draxum,” said Michelangelo quickly, stepping between him and the now furious Donatello, “this was a… funny joke, but you can stop now-“

“This is not a joke. I am simply explaining the facts.”

“Yeah, well,” now Leonardo was on his feet, too, “the facts are that me and Donnie are twins. Always have been, always will be.”

“You are not,” Draxum insisted. “And given what I have seen here today, I’d think you’d both be relieved, since you clearly don’t enjoy being twins!”

Both boys looked like they’d just been slapped in the face. The rest of the room had gone completely silent, like everyone was collectively holding their breath.

Donatello broke first, turning on his heel and marching out of the room, his hands balled into fists and his shoulders hunched up as high as they could go. “Dee!” called Leonardo, and then he was scurrying off after him. There was the sound of a heavy door slamming, then silence.

It didn’t last long.

“Draxum!” roared the rat, actually getting up from his chair to get in Draxum’s face. “You come in here and upset my boys on their own birthday!?”

“Seriously not cool, Drax,” said the human April. Cassandra shook her head in shared disappointment behind her.

Draxum pushed Lou Jitsu back, scowling at his accusers. “I was only explaining reality! This is really the rat’s fault for letting their delusion go on so long.”

“Delusion!?”

“Barry!”

“Rat!?”

“Ooookay,” said Raphael suddenly, stepping his way into the middle of the fray and starting to herd Draxum back toward the exit. “That’s enough of that for now.”

“I am simply trying to explain-“

“Trust me, hoss, you wanna step away from this one,” said Raphael, and his tone was angry but surprisingly measured. “Come on.”

They retreated to the sewer tunnels outside the subway station. The smell was much worse out here, and Draxum wrinkled his nose.

“Alright.” Raphael heaved a sigh, folding his arms. “So here’s the deal. Mikey likes you, and I guess I kinda do too, so I’m gonna try to help you before you completely torpedo your chances with the rest of the guys. Which, you kinda did already, but maybe we can turn it around.”

“I still don’t understand why they’re so upset,” said Draxum. “Surely it was obvious they aren’t twins.”

“Uh, yeah, they know they aren’t twins by bio-whatever,” agreed Raphael. “They ain’t stupid.”

“Hmm.” Draxum turned up his nose. “Donatello isn’t stupid, maybe.”

“Leo ain’t stupid, either, he just pretends like it.” Raphael pinched his brow. “Listen, that isn’t the point - the point is they already know they didn’t come from the same egg or hatch the same day or whatever. They’re just twins anyway.”

“But how? That doesn’t make sense!”

Raphael sighed again. “Alright, look. Dad didn’t know when we hatched, right? But we all wanted birthday parties like we saw on TV, so he let us pick.”

“Yes. And for some reason Leonardo and Donatello chose the same day.” Draxum could figure that much out on his own.

Raphael nodded. “I was the biggest and oldest, and Mikey was the littlest and youngest, and Leo and Donnie were just kinda sandwiched in the middle. I think at first they just wanted a thing. Somethin’ that set them apart from me and Mikey, ya know?”

“Not really,” said Draxum. Raphael glared at him, and he sighed. “But go on.”

“So they picked the same birthday and called themselves twins. I think Pops just so glad they were actually getting along that he agreed to it. And I think he thought once we got to the day, and they realized they were really gonna have to share it, they’d both demand their own day instead. I know I thought that was gonna happen.” He smiled at the memory. “But the day came, and… they fussed the whole time just like they do now. Arguing about what kind of cake they wanted and who got to open their present first. But they didn’t ask to split. They kept it the same day, and they kept calling each other twins and it just stuck, until we didn’t question it anymore.”

“…They are both stubborn,” Draxum pointed out, and Raphael laughed once.

“Yeah, guess they are. But that’s not what this is.” Raphael shrugged. “They chose each other back then. Maybe at first it was just to have a thing, but then it became real. And every single year they keep choosing each other. That’s why they’re twins.”

Choosing each other as twins… Draxum furrowed his brow. “It’s not normally a choice,” he pointed out finally.

“Yeah, well, our family doesn’t get a lot of choices, so just let ‘em have this one, okay?”

“…Fine,” Draxum finally relented. “As long as it’s noted that this is purely a social designation, and not a biological one.”

“Uh, sure, whatever.” Raphael rolled his eyes. “Glad we got that cleared up, though. Think you can come back to the party and behave?”

Draxum wrinkled his nose at that phrasing, but nodded. “Yes. I will not bring it up again.”

“Good!” Raphael’s smile abruptly transitioned into something much more dangerous. “Because if you make my little brothers upset on their birthday again, I’ll remind you what it was like when we were enemies.”

Then the smile was back. “Now let’s go in!”

He walked back to the subway station, leaving Draxum to follow on his own. Draxum couldn’t help but sigh wistfully.

Raphael would have made a great general for his army.

———

The boys had already returned by the time Draxum got back. They were opening more gifts, and he noted they were wearing hoodies now - though they had apparently decided to swap their signature colors. They were smiling and chattering, and any hint of their earlier upset was gone.

Until Draxum stepped into their line of sight, and both of them went rigid, wary of him.

Apparently just talking to the red one was not enough. Draxum would have to do more. What a pain.

But he didn’t want the boys to hate him. So he sighed and launched into it.

“I… am sorry. I shouldn’t have said you aren’t twins.”

The boys looked surprised at that; slowly, their posture loosened back up.

“And… to make up for my present, I will… take the two of you wherever you want to go in the Hidden City.” The next words were painful, and he ground them out. “My treat.”

Leonardo and Donatello shifted their gaze from him to each other. They were silent, but it didn’t seem like they needed to talk to have a conversation.

Then they finally looked back at Draxum, slow grins growing over both their faces.

Eerily matching, very evil grins.

“Oh,” said Leonardo, happily menacing. “I think we can think of something.”

“I concur,” said Donatello in the exact same tone.

Oh, thought Draxum. Maybe they really are twins.

#dandy fanfiction #rottmnt #rise Leo #rise Donnie #rise raph #baron draxum #rise Mikey #disaster twins #I didn’t proofread this haha #I love the twins being twins by choice #Donnie and Leo had a big sappy talk sorry it was off screen

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charlesslut16 · 5 months

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-Ugly christmas sweaters-

summary : lando and you go to a christmas party, which had the theme 'ugly christmas sweaters' but lando does not like his sweater....

PAIRING : lando norris x fem!reader

WARNINGS : none

note : i hope you like this imagines! Request some more, as we have not every day in the dezember masterlist!

december masterlist ; masterlist

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One week before your friend's Christmas party, you bought Christmas sweaters, ugly ones, as the theme had been 'ugly Christmas sweaters'. You knew that Lando didn't like the theme, but for you and your friends' sake, he would do it.

So two days before the party, you confronted and showed Lando the Christmas sweaters. Obviously you knew that Lando wouldn't be as happy, but if you were being honest, you could not care less.

“You’re telling me that we—no, I am going to be wearing that?” Lando softly lifted one of the sweaters, holding it as if it was a bag of 2 weeks old garbage. As if he was going to be infected with something dangerous.

“For our friend’s Christmas party?”

The splash of colors and patterns really confused him; it seems like the designer operated on a whim. Every thing looked out of order and nothing fit together. Like someone had destroyed it and then.

"Come on, it’s not even that bad! The theme was ugly Christmas sweaters, and I picked out the best ones the market had on the hanger, I think they're cute," you stated, defending the sweaters you had bought a week ago.

"This is far from cute! It is horrendous. Your taste in fashion must be very questionable," he scoffed, nonchalantly returning the sweaters to their initial resting place on the chair, so that he did not have to look at them anymore.

"I've practically styled your entire wardrobe, and you've received so many compliments because of me!" you argued back. Now he had gone too far, to question your fashion taste, although you had styled most of his clothes combinations.

"Alright, but your sweater choices are still terrible!" Lando countered.

Ignoring his protests, you insistently hold the sweater in front of him, trying to picture the look despite his puzzled expression. You knew that even if they did not look so good, Lando could pull them off nonetheless.

“Not in a million years will you catch me wearing that. In will never live this outfit down.” Lando declared, hands up in protest.

But, you didn’t care whatsoever, as your determination knew no bounds.

“Stop moving, you're making this harder.”

“What—” he started, but you were already on a mission, determined to make him at least consider the sweater. Even if Lando was a grown man, you needed to put it on him, so that he could see how it looked on him.

“It does suit you.”

“Thanks for the compliment, but you can't just say that by imagining how I'd look in it!”

“Why don't you try it on?” You extended your hand, catching him off guard. His reaction was too slow, and you ended up tossing it at him.

“I'll wait for you.”

Lando sighed loudly, unfolding the sweater and eyeing it with skepticism. He wasn't convinced, but just trying it on wouldn't bee that bad.

“Fine, but don't get your hopes up. It still looks absolutely horrendous.”

As he struggled to put it on, you couldn't help but laugh at the sight. The vibrant colors clashed with his usual style, making it even more amusing. The orange colour he normally would was bright and colourful but this. Absolutely vibrant.

“Ta-da! Happy now?” Lando struck a pose, a mockingly exaggerated smile on his face. You knew that he hated every second of it. Like when he drove and became second and not first, or when his brother hated the last donut that he wanted.

You chuckled, "Look! It doesn't even look that bad! You can totally pull it off. I mean, you can totally pull off everything that somebody gives."

Rolling his eyes, Lando played along with your answers and exclamations.

"Sure, sure. It looks fantastic on me. Just a bunch of silly trees and tiny elves on this sweater with squiggly lines—seriously, what were you thinking when you added this to the cart? It ruined everything good on me."

You shrugged lightly, unfazed by his words. Lando often exaggerated things, and you were accustomed to it. It was nothing unusual for Lando to overreact and overdramatic, things as they were or had been.

“I expect you to stick with this—we've got just two days until the party.”

“But can we not switch—”

In the middle of his sentence, you stood up and walked away into the kitchen to make you a hot cocoa and to go back to your shared bedroom, so you stopped hearing his complaints and overdramatic nature.

Two days later, the day of the Christmas party, you had the exact same conversation, but you knew that Lando could do nothing about it, as he knew that he would do almost everything for you in a heartbeat.

His complaining tone faded as you rushed down the stairs with the matching sweater in your hand. Quickly draping it over your white shirt and white skirt, you settled on the couch in the living room. As you scrolled on your phone to pass the time, you later heard shuffling in the background.

“Ready to go, my handsome man?” you looked up, seeing your boyfriend in the sweater you bought—he hadn’t changed it. You gave him a big smile, rising from your seat, as you wanted to hug him and tell him how good he looked.

“Looking good there, Norris.”

“Keep it up, and I’ll run up the stairs to change,” he teased, soon linking arms with you as you headed towards the door. But you knew that he was just teasing, he would not change as the time was at a limit.

“Honestly, though, I don’t think I look too shabby in this,” he asserted, eliciting a giggle from you.

“What can I say? I have an eye for what works.”

“Maybe you're onto something.”

"Maybe I need to trust you more, with clothes."

"You should."

He opened the door, so he could let you both out and locked the door after you both, but before you could walk to the car, he pulled you into his chest and gave you a romantic long kiss and then pulled away to look into your eyes.

"I love you, angel"

"I love you, handsome."

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javiscigarette · 1 year

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Sweet Dreams

Javier Peña x f!reader

Summary: You find Javi awake in the middle of the night and help him fall asleep :)

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI) no use of y/n, dirty talk, oral sex (m receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, rough sex, spitting, light spanking, cum play, hair pulling, just a dash of degradation, probably more this is literally just straight up absolutely filthy smut with a microscopic speck of plot. Kinda soft!Javi, lots of use of the nickname princesa and baby

Word count: 6.4k hahaha

A/N: This whole thing is based on this gif. I'm down so horrendously bad for this man I can't keep living like this.

You wake up in the middle of the night to an empty bed.

A couple of hours ago you had fallen asleep with his arms wrapped tightly around you with your back to his chest, his face tucked into the space between your neck and shoulder, his steady breathing warm against your skin.

And now all you felt was the cool breeze coming in from the open balcony door. You roll over and squint, trying to focus your tired eyes. You can make out Javi’s silhouette sitting on the couch out on balcony and can smell the cigarette smoke wafting into the bedroom.

Well that just wont do.

No other thoughts cross your mind before you wrap yourself up in the fluffy blanket and stand up. It’s like your body is a magnet to Javi, needing to be as close to him as possible at all times. You’re still half asleep and your legs feel like jello as you stumble out onto the balcony.

Javi immediately turns to you, his concerned puppy dog eyes looking at you.

“What are you doin up, princesa” Javi asks with a frown.

He’s shirtless, sitting there on the couch in only his boxers. He’s definitely a sight for your sore eyes.

“Could ask you the same”

Your voice still thick with sleep as you sit next to him on the couch and his arm immediately wraps around your shoulder, pulling you close to him.

“Couldn’t sleep” Javi says plainly before taking a deep puff from the cigarette that’s dangling between his index and middle finger.

You don’t say anything in response but let the soft noise from the city below fill the silence instead.

It’s a very rare occasion when Javi wants to talk about the baggage he takes home from work, he often tells you that being with you is healing enough. But finding him in the middle of the night on the living room couch or balcony with a cigarette tucked between his lips as he nurses a bottle of whiskey is not a rare occasion.

Sometimes you can pull it out of him, get him to open up about the shit that’s weighing him down. But you know that it’s not the time for that right now and you’re too tired to hold an actual conversation right now anyway.

You yawn and move to lay down, your head resting in his lap with your legs stretched out on the rest of the couch and your blanket pulled up to your chin.

He automatically snakes a hand under the blanket until he finds the warm, bare skin of your shoulder. He rests his hand there, drawing soft patterns on your skin with his thumb while his other arm stretches out on the back of the couch. You fall back asleep almost instantly, Javi’s light touch lulling you back

He sits here for awhile, concentrating on the feeling the rise and fall of your body under his hand on your shoulder. His mind is finally starting to go blank, the weight of your body against his washing away the events of the day. Having you close always soothed him. Something about you just put him at ease. The whiskey and cigarettes couldn’t hold a light to the way you clear his mind.

He picks up the glass of whiskey on the side table, gulping down the rest of it and setting it back down before bringing his cigarette up to his lips, taking another long drag.

He looks down at your head in is lap. You’re facing him, giving him a perfect view of your relaxed and peaceful face as you sleep. His heart swells a bit when he realizes that he can feel your warm breath on his bare thigh with your every deep exhale.

Softly, as to not wake you, he brings his hand from your shoulder to your face, softly running his thumb over your cheekbone.

“So pretty” He whispers.

Your eyelashes flutter open just slightly and he shushes you softly, tracing a feather light finger along your jaw. He can never keep his hands off of you. He has to always be touching you in some way as if your a tether to the Earth and if he let go he would fly away.

You snuggle your face further into his thigh and In less than a minute, your breathing slows down again, your breaths becoming heavier and deeper.

Your cheek is pressed against the soft skin of his bare thigh, squishing your mouth so it hangs open slightly. He can’t stop himself as he moves his thumb to rest on your lower lip, rubbing it with the pad of his thumb ever so slightly.

To his amazement, your lips automatically close around the tip of his thumb. His cock twitches in his boxers, seeing you so accepting, so willing to take anything he gives you even in your sleep. He slides his thumb in further, pressing against your tongue until your warm lips are wrapped around his first knuckle. He groans quietly when he feels you starting to suckle his thumb, another wave of arousal washing over him.

He sits there quietly with his palm resting in your cheek and his thumb tucked between your lips, watching fondly as you suck on it gently in your sleep.

You’re stuck somewhere halfway between sleep and consciousness. You know he’s getting needy. he was always needy around you and you want to stay awake and please him. But you can’t stop yourself from drifting in and out of sleep with the comforting touch of Javi’s hand on your cheek as you gently suck on his thumb. The faint scent of his body wash he used in the shower you two shared hours ago mixing with the cigarettes and whiskey and the smell that was so undeniably Javi made your head even fuzzier, definitely not helping your efforts in trying to stay awake.

You have no clue how much time passes before Javi’s sliding his thumb out of your mouth and smoothing it against your swollen bottom lip. You open your eyes at the loss, looking up at Javi through your eyelashes. He looks back down at you, his eyes soft and full of admiration.

“My sweet girl” he says quietly, barely loud enough to hear over the sounds of the city.

He hooks his wet thumb over your bottom lip, tugging down slightly until your jaw opens up a bit more. You know what he’s asking for. Your eyes flit down to his boxers and you can see the clear outline of his half hard cock through the thin material of his boxers.

“Can use me” you say mumble, the sleep in voice causing you to slur your words before you close your eyes again.

You hear Javi curse quietly above you before he starts to reposition himself, trying his absolute hardest not to jostle you around. He manages to push his boxers down slightly, just enough to get his cock out.

Your eyes are still closed when you feel his wet, hot tip press gently against your lip. You keep them closed as you open your jaw, giving him silent permission to slide in.

He keeps just the tip in your mouth for now, sighing heavily when you start to lick the precum from head. He leans to the side to drop his cigarette into the ashtray resting in the side table before resting his hand on your cheek again. He can feel his tip press against his palm through your cheek every so often and it drives him crazy.

He sighs again once you let him push his cock further into your mouth, taking him as deep as you could at this angle.

“Shit baby” Javi’s groans, letting his head drop on the back of the couch.

He’s now fully hard, fighting every urge not to buck his hips up and shove his cock down your throat like he normally does. He wants to stay in this moment as long as he could, savoring they way you’re nearly asleep but still so willing to take him. His efforts are thwarted when he looks down at you, your face sleepy and peaceful with you wet lips wrapped so perfectly around him.

“So fuckin pretty like this” he sighs, his thumb brushing your cheek.

Javi’s was hot and heavy in your mouth, twitching every time you hollowed your cheeks and sucked on him. Fat drops of precum leaked out on your tongue which you eagerly swallowed, causing his thighs to tremble under your head.

His praise and breathy sighs and quiet broken moans send shivers down your spine, straight to your core.

You absolutely craved Javi like this, using you to get off, letting him find solace in your body. You’re so eager to please him, to draw out those shaky gasps and moans, that he barely has to ask anymore. His palm on your thigh or a squeeze around your waist was enough to turn you to putty in his hands. And you always got something in return. That was part of the reason you submitted so easily. After you make him cum, he’d immediately crawl between your legs, licking you and sucking you down, returning the favor 10 fold until your crashing down from your third orgasm in a row, absolutely begging him for a break.

Spit starts to leak out of your corner of your mouth and Javi grunts above you when he feels it dribble down his cock and onto his thigh. He moves his thumb to wipe up some of it, spreading it against your lips that are wrapped tightly around him.

He slowly rolls his hips up, testing the waters to see if you’d let him go further. Of course you allow it, tilting your head so there’s more room to fit him down your throat.

“My sweet girl, takin’ me so well” he rasps.

You’re starting to genuinely choke on him, his girth making your jaw ache but you don’t care. Not one bit. He keeps his pace slow, but he goes deeper every time. He drops his other to the back of your head, holding you in place for a few seconds every time he stuffs himself down your throat. He groans when he feels you gag, trying to swallow around him, the sensation sending tingles up to his scalp and down to his toes.

Your eyes are still closed, but tears are starting to leak out of the corners as he slowly fucks your throat. You were starting to get as needy as him. You always did when he filled your mouth up like this.

You start pressing your thighs together, trying to create any bit of friction. Javi of course notices immediately. No movement of yours goes unnoticed when he’s around.

“You gettin needy baby?” He coos at you, a devilish smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

You open your eyes and look up at him, more tears falling falling down your face. You moan in response and he slides even further down your throat and holds you in place for a few seconds before letting up, allowing you to take a deep breath before he’s sliding in again.

His hand leaves your face, his palm warm and heavy as he slides it over your shoulder and down your side until he finds his way in between your thighs.

You let out a long whine when you feel two of his fingers press against your bare slit. He started the night in bed with you so he knows you’re naked. And at this point of your relationship, he takes you in the middle of the night more often than not so you decided to skip putting on pjs since you often found them on the floor anyway when you woke in the morning.

But it still take his breath away, your wet cunt exposed and ready for him to use whenever he pleases.

“Oh angel” he sighs, gliding a finger through your soaked folds. The sensation sends tingles up your spine, making you whine around him.

“Makin’ a mess and I haven’t even touched you yet. You love suckin my cock that much?”

You let out a long moan, the sound muffled by his cock still pumping in and out your throat. You try to grind down into his touch, which he responds to with an amused chuckle.

“So good, baby. So sweet and wet for me”

He feels your cunt clench and more slick drip out of you every time he talks. His words get filthy when he’s taking you like this. He’s normally fairly quiet, opting to brood silently rather than have any sort of conversation. But you draw it out of him so effortlessly it’s like he has no control over what comes out of his mouth and he clearly knows how much it gets to you.

He continues to glide two fingers through you slick heat, his cock starting to twitch in your mouth even more before he slowly plunges one deep inside of you.

Your eyes widen and you look up at him again and he’s smiling down at you, his cock pushing your loud moan back down your throat. He starts to pump his finger in and out of you, his pace matching the slow roll of his hips.

“Oh you really like having me down your throat, don’t you angel” he says when he feels you squeeze around his finger.

You thoughts are muddy and your skin feels so hot and all you can do is take him down your throat while you flutter around his finger. He knows one finger isn’t enough to get you off but you don’t dare to complain. You were for Javi to use right now and you’re going to let him use you however he pleases.

He keeps up the slow rhythm of fucking your throat while sliding his finger in and out of you. He’s almost never this slow with you, but it feels so good like this, seeing how long you can last. Your jaw is trembling now from staying for so long, spit sliding past your lips and down your chin and and neck your thighs shaking as you resist the urge to clamp down around Javi’s hand. Warm waves of arousal flood his senses every time he slips deeper into your throat. You were sound asleep not even half an hour ago and now you choking on Javi’s cock and leaking on his hand and down his fingers, being so submissive and he didn’t even have to say a single word.

His hips start to roll up faster as he gets caught up in how perfect you are, letting him use you however he wants, willing to do anything for him.

“My good girl. You want my cum down your throat, princesa?” He hisses, staring down at you.

He’s getting close. You can hear it in his voice and the pants he lets out at his chest heaves up and down. The anticipation of swallowing his hot seed is making you moan nonstop around him, the vibrations of your throat around him making him clench his jaw as he sucks in air through his teeth.

He tangles the hand that’s not inside you tightly in your hair as he starts to thrust faster into your mouth. You can feel his legs start to shake under your head, his grunts and gasps getting louder with every thrust. He sneakily adds a second finger in your cunt and he picks up the pace of fucking his fingers into you too.

“I know baby. I know you do. M’gonna cum and you’re gonna swallow every drop aren’t you, princesa” he rasps

It takes one, two, three more thrusts until he buries himself in your throat, pushing your head down until every inch of him is stuffed in your mouth as he cums down your throat. It’s so much. You’d probably slap any other man who tried to hold you down like that while he came. But something inside you is so innately in tune with him that you’d let him break you in anyway he pleases. You swallow his load happily, clenching around his two fingers as rope after rope of hot cum slides directly down your throat. Javi’s moaning at full volume now above you, not giving a single shit about the neighbors hearing him.

He gives one last push, sliding as far as he possible can down your throat before pulling back until just the tip rests in your mouth. He sighs loudly and you can just barely hear the quiet whimpers he lets out as aftershocks of his orgasm shoot through his body. He continues to slowly slide his fingers in and out of you as he catches his breath. You hum contentedly as he softens in your mouth, his breath hitching and body jolting every time you teasingly ran your tongue over his sensitive slit.

You finally release him from your mouth, a trail of spit connecting his tip to your tongue, which you lick up eagerly. He hisses at the cold air against his sensitive skin, already missing your mouth around him. Your mouth still hangs open, high pitched whines freely tumbling out every time Javi slides his fingers into you, his pace now slow and syrupy. You buck your hips, trying to grind your clit against the heel of his palm, trying to get him to speed up but he’s two steps ahead of you and removes his hand from you entirely before you can get any friction.

“Javiii” you whine desperately at the loss.

“Don’t be greedy, baby. Stay still and be grateful for what I give you.” Javi hisses, his voice dropping down an octave.

His words make your heart beat faster in your chest as you look up at him with wide eyes. His eyes are glued to yours as he brings his hand up to his face, sticking his two fingers that are practically dripping with your slick to his mouth. He immediately groans when he tastes you on his tongue, eyes rolling into the back of his head as he eagerly sucking down your juices. You let out a whimper and your cunt clenches around nothing as you watch him taste you. You’re well aware Javi loves to taste you but watching him moan and groan around his fingers as he tastes you drives you absolutely wild.

He opens and eyes and takes his fingers from his mouth. They’re now coated with his spit and your slick, shining in the soft glow of the city lights.

“Taste so fucking good, hermosa” He says, a lopsided smirk plastered on his face.

“Taste how sweet you are” he says before pushing his wet fingers into your mouth.

You moan lowly and your core pulses at the taste of the mixture of his spit and your juices on his fingers. He presses his two fingers against your tongue, pushing them back just slightly until you gag, spreading more of your own salvia around the two digits until they’re even wetter than they were before.

He then slips his fingers out of your mouth sliding them back into his mouth and Jesus Christ this man was going to be the death of you. His smirks even more at the desparte moan you let out as you watch him.

He release his finger from his mouth with low groan and a soft wet pop before returning his hand to your core, circling your leaking hole with his finger tips.

“You think you deserve to cum, baby?”

“Javi please, please I wa-“

You cut yourself off with a ragged moan when he thrusts his fingers into you, going deeper than before and curling up right against your g-spot as he immediately starts with a rapid pace. Hot waves of pleasure shoot up your spine and settled in your stomach each time his fingers hook against the spot that makes your eyes roll back in your skull.

“Yeah, I think you do baby. Sucked my cock so well, such a good girl for me” Javi says gruffly as he stares down at you, eyes trained on the faces your making.

You whimper and whine, bucking your hips up trying to get his fingers to go deeper.

“Love how wet this pretty pussy gets for me” Javi says almost to himself, groaning at the way you clench down around him.

“So fuckin tight too, huh? Only got two fingers in ya and can barely move ‘em”

Javi knows how much faster you cum when he’s talking this, how his filthy words hurtle you closer to the edge. You let out a loud moan which causes Javi to slap his free hand over your mouth.

“Be quiet, Princesa. You want the whole city knowing how slutty you are with my fingers in your tight cunt?”

Javi chuckles when you clench down so hard that you almost push his fingers out.

“Oh” Javi groans “you’d like that, wouldn’t you princesa? Letting everyone know how good I make you feel? You want them see how much of a slut you are, letting me fuck any of your holes whenever and wherever I want?”

Javi doesn’t break eye contact with you, watching as you writhe in his lap. The veins in your neck threaten to burst as you cry out his name, the sound muffled against his hand. Javi doesn’t make it any easier for you to be quiet. Instead, he slides his thumb through your drenched folds before circling your clit, just how you like it. You groan into his palm and twist your body in his lap as you feel your climax quickly building up in your stomach.

“You’re getting close, baby, I can feel it.”

You nod quickly, letting a short moan fall from between your lips. Javi’s hand is completely covering you mouth and his knuckles are pressing against your nostrils, leaving you heaving deeply for air. The pad of his thumb is still pressed into you clit, rubbing expert circles as he rubs his fingertips against your g-spot. You can feel yourself unraveling quickly. It comes a lot quicker than it would’ve if you hadn’t spent the last 15 minutes with Javi’s cock down your throat.

“Cum for me, princesa. Fucking soak my fingers like I know you want to” Javi growls.

You can’t take anymore. His voice, his words, his fingers buried in your cunt and his big hand blocking your breathing is too much. It all sends your flying off the edge. You cry out against Javi’s palm, your whole body trembling as you gush around his fingers, soaking his hand and wrist and the blanket under you. Javi groans as you fall apart and doesn’t stop pumping his fingers in and out of you until your whimpering, and clamping your thighs around his hand.

“Fuck baby. You so fucking pretty when you cum” Javi grunts, his chest heaving up and down as if he was the one who just came so hard he saw stars.

It takes a few moments for you to come down from your high, whimpering and jolting whenever Javi draws light circles on top of your sensitive clit. He slowly slides his fingers out of you, pulling his soaked hand out from under the blanket. He holds it up in front of your face, forcing you to look at how his whole hand and his wrist are covered in your juices.

He grins ear to ear and sticks his fingers in his mouth again, his eyes rolling back into his head again as his eyelids flutter close. He takes his time licking your release off of his fingers, savoring every sweet drop. When he finishes, he looks back down at you with the soft smile that’s reserved only for you.

“Come here, princesa” Javi commands softly.

He helps you sit up and you crawl to sit in his lap and drapes the blanket over your shoulders, shielding you from the cool breeze and wandering eyes before you collapse on his chest. He sighs at the intense heat of your body, his muscles quickly melting underneath you.

One of his big hands splays out against the bare skin of your back, holding you in place against him. You nuzzle your face into his neck, inhaling his scent as his soft brown locks tickle your face. You feel the cloth of his boxers growing wet pressed against your soaked core and you want to grind down on him, but the sleepiness hits you almost immediately, your eyelids growing heavy once again.

“Such a good girl, princesa. Just for me huh?” Javi whispers, making you smile as the scruff on his jaw tickling your cheek when he talks.

He lifts your chin with the fingers of his clean hand, silently asking you for a kiss. You sit up just enough to cup his face with both of your hands before pressing your lips softly against his. A small whimper tumbles out of your mouth and into his when you he licks into your mouth, your taste still heavy on his tongue. It’s a soft kiss, allowing you to relax into it, your lips warm wet lips gliding easily over his.

You pull back to take a breath and Javi smiles at you, soft and sweet.

You snuggle your face back into his neck, your eyes slipping closed once again. You feel him move around before you hear the click of his zippo and the soft crackling of his cigarette as his takes a long drag. You listen to his pulse slow down and his breathing even out as he finishes his cigarette, the nicotine quickly relaxing his body. You’re almost asleep again when he stubs out the cherry in the ash tray.

“Let’s get you back in bed”

He moves his hands to your ass and you wrap his arms around his neck, nuzzling your face back into his warm neck. He makes sure that the blanket is fully covering you before standing up. You wrap your legs around his waist, trusting him fully as he carries you back inside.

He gently lies you down on your back but you still cling to him, not letting him stand back up.

He chuckles lightly, moving to press a kiss to your jaw.

“I’m just gonna get a rag to clean us up” Javi says quietly, his voice muffled with his lips still pressed to your skin.

You sigh and unwrap your arms and legs from him. You roll over on to your stomach, squishing the side of your face into the cool silk pillowcase as you fold your arms under the pillow.

“Good girl”

He presses sweet kisses to your shoulder, lightly squeezing your ass before standing up.

He barely takes three steps before he hears you.

“Javiiiii” you whine, your heavy lidded eyes looking over your shoulder at him. He turns on his heel to look at you, worry and concern washing over him.

“What’s wrong, princesa?” He asks, padding back over to the edge of the bed and placing a soft hand on your shoulder.

“Still want you” you whine quietly, looking up at him through heavy eyelids.

“Oh baby” Javi coos, rubbing his hand over your soft, warm skin. “You swallow my cock and squirt all over my hand and your little pussy is still needy for me?”

“Need you to fill me up, Javi. Wanna stretch around you” you whine, slightly tilting your ass into the air. Javi smiles that soft smile, letting you know that he’ll take care of you and you let your eyes fall shut.

You feel his hand trail down your back until it meets his other one to palm your cheeks. You hum happily, delighted by the feeling of his big warm hands on you.

You feel the bed dip with Javi’s weight as he settles on his knees between your thighs. He gently pulls your cheeks apart, cool air rushing over your hot wet seam.

“Jesus Christ, princesa” Javi moans, the soft lighting in the bedroom finally allowing him to see how wet you are.

He spits softly above you, not that you need it at all but because he can. He watches intently as its drops from his lips and you moan into the pillow when you feel Javi’s spit slide down your crack and pool around your tight hole. His cock starts to quickly harden again in his boxers.

“Love all your perfect little holes, princesa” Javi grunts.

He runs his thumb through the mess between your thighs before circling your puckered hole. You gasp when he presses his the tip of his thumb into your tight hole, your body starting to tremble again.

“You want me to play with your little asshole baby?” Javi teases before letting more spit dribble out of his mouth and onto you, adding to the mess between your legs.

”Need you inside me Javi, wanna cum around you” you whine, your tight hole squeezing around Javi’s thumb as your cunt clenches around air.

He tucks the idea into his back pocket, saving of destroying your tight little hole for another day.

“You really need it bad, don’t you baby” Javi says almost in disbelief.

You lift your hips up, trying your best to wiggle your ass in front of Javi’s face. He takes the hint, moving off the bed to quickly kick off his boxers. He’s back between your legs within seconds, pressing his cock against your cunt and sliding up in the wet mess until his tip catches on your asshole.

“Javi please”

Javi smacks your cheek, making yo cry out as he grinds harder against your slit.

“I’m gonna give you what you want, baby, but you need to be patient.”

You whimper into the pillow and fist your hands into the blanket by your face. Your chest burns from your heavy pants as he slides his hot and heavy cock through your folds getting himself wet with your slick.

You gasp when finally feel him notch his thick head at your dripping entrance. He sinks into you in one languid stroke, filling you up to the brim without letting you adjust to his size.

You both moan loudly together not worried about anyone hearing anymore. He starts with a slow pace, pulling out until just his tip is inside before pushing back in until he’s bumping against your cervix. Your eyes roll back into your skull, loud moans pouring out of you as Javi fills you. You can barely breathe, Javi punching the breath out of lungs every time he thrusts inside of you.

You feel his fingertips dig into your skin as he grips your hips and he holds you in place, exactly where he wants before he’s snapping his hips, fucking into you at a brutal pace.

You howl into the pillow as he slams into you. He’s so deep that you swear you can feel him in your throat. You can’t stop moaning, tears forming in the corners of your eyes as he continues to ruin you, not letting up on his pace for even a second. You try to scoot up the bed, try to create a bit of distance from him just so you can catch your breath. He does not take kindly to that.

He snakes one hand up your spine, grabs a fist full of hair and pulls, causing you to arch your back and push your hips further into his. Hot pain shoots through your scalp and down your spine, mixing deliciously with the pleasure that’s consuming you.

“Nuh-uh, baby. You asked for this so don’t fuckin run from it now” Javi growls through clenched teeth.

You cry out again, and Javi lets out a loud moan of his own from behind you when he feels your walls grip him so impossibly tight that he can’t move inside of you for a couple of seconds.

He suddenly lets go of your hair, instead opting to push your head against the pillow. He makes sure that you can still breathe but he holds you there, hand heavy on your head as he continues to pummel into you.

“Squeezing me so tight, baby. You like when I’m rough with you?”

He obviously doesn’t have to ask. He knows you like the back of his hand, can read your body like a books he’s read a thousand times before. He knows you fucking love it and even if he didn’t, the way your slick leaks out around him and drips onto the sheets below would be a good indicator.

Javi folds over you, moving his hand from your head so he can rest on his forearms, caging your body underneath his. His pace doesn’t falter, not even for a second.

“Tell me baby. Tell me who’s makin you feel this good” Javi growls in your ear.

His words, the feeling of his hot breath and the sound of his delicious gasps and grunts makes you whine loudly.

“Tell me right now, princesa. Or else I’ll fucking stop right now and leave you trembling here alone”

“Javi, fuck! Javi it’s you. You’re so fucking big, getting so deep. Feels so good, baby” you babble, every word you say punctuated by his hips snapping into you harshly.

Javi let’s out a groan of satisfaction.

“That’s right, baby. I’m the only one who can fuck you this good, only one who can properly stuff this needy fucking cunt”

You sob at his words, your cry morphing into a scream when he starts to thrust right into your g-spot. You see stars behind your eyelids, white hot waves of pleasure crashing down on you. Moan after moan tumbles out of lips as he holds the same position, fucking up into your spot over and over again.

“That your special spot, princesa? Am I gonna make you cum again ‘round my fat cock?”

All you can manage is another sob and a vigorous nod against the pillow. Javi’s pressing messy, open mouth kisses to your back and neck, licking, biting, and sucking wherever he pleases. The delectable combination of the scent of his cologne with the scent of the specific brand of cigarettes he always smokes, and whiskey he always drinks swirls around and fills your head while his heavy weight pressing on top of you is making you absolutely feral. The ball of pleasure of swelling in your abdomen, quickly getting tighter and tighter with Javi’s every thrust.

“Cum for me, baby. Can feel you squeezing and I wanna feel you soakin me again” Javi grunts.

He barely gets the last word out before your you’re flying off the edge again. You positively scream as your orgasm rips through you, pure electricity coursing through your veins making your whole body tremble violently underneath him.

He can’t keep himself together, not when you’re shaking and squeezing this hard and especially not when you’re gushing around around him, soaking his lower abdomen and the sheets below you with your release. He reaches his own release seconds after you. His thrusts get sloppy until his hips stall, his cock buried inside of you as deep as possible, unloading a massive load with a long strangled moan. He cums for what feels like forever, a string of curses and your name tumbling out his mouth until he collapses on top of you.

It takes a good while before both of you return to your bodies. You’re still shaking from the intensity of your earth shattering orgasm. Your whole body is so sensitive that Javi’s hot and breathy pants on your back feels like flames are licking your skin. Your chest and throat burn from your screams and raspy breaths and your walls are still contracting rhythmically around his softening cock.

“Fuckin hell, baby” Javi says with a breathless chuckle.

You can feel the vibrations of his chest on your back and it makes your eyes flutter shut as you sink deeper and deeper into pure bliss. He’s starts pressing warm, wet, open mouthed kisses to your back, shoulders, and neck again, his way of saying thank you and maybe even those three little words he still can’t say to you even after all this time.

Javi eventually slowly pulls out of you with a hiss and you shamelessly whimper at the loss of feeling of his cock splitting you in half. You immediately feel his cum trickling out of you but his fingers are just as quick, coming up to slide through your folds and gently push his release back inside of you with a low, almost possessive sounding groan.

You let out a soft cry, your whole body lurching as his fingers slides his fingers in and out of you’re sensitive hole for a few more seconds.

When he’s had his fill, he removes his fingers and presses a long, soft kiss to your hip before standing up.

You hear him walking to the bathroom and turn on the faucet and then he’s back to clean you up with a warm wet rag. Your limbs are jello as deep relaxation fills your body and your sleepiness starts to quickly creep back in. Javi’s laser-focused on being as gentle as possible as he cleans you up, relishing the sweet soft whimpers that you probably don’t even realize your making.

He presses as another kiss to your shoulder before he leaves again. This time he comes back with a glass of water, holding to straw to your lips. You glance up at him as you gulp the water down, his brows furrowed in concentration making sure you drink enough.

When your both satisfied, he sets the water down on the nightstand as you slip your eyes shut. You feel the bed dip as he climbs in next to you, immediately wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his chest, just like how you fell asleep. He makes sure that you’re not touching the wet spot of the bed before snuggling his face against your shoulder and shutting his eyes that have suddenly gotten very heavy.

Changing the sheets can wait until the morning he thinks to himself as he squeezes you just a bit tighter and quickly slips into deep, heavy sleep. You’re the best goddamn sleeping pill there is.

Thanks for reading :) This is my return to writing after 5 years and first time ever writing for Javi so lmk if you liked it! Maybe send me a request!

#javier pena x reader #javier pena smut #javier pena #javier pena narcos #javier pena x you #javier pena x female reader #pedro pascal characters #javier pena fic #javiscigarette

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janeyseymour · 2 months

Text

Love Thy Neighbor- pt 7

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6.

Summary: You're sick after Ellie. Who is there to take care of you, but the woman that you've fallen in love with- and also your neighbor and coworker.

WC: ~1.75k

She kisses you back. Of course she does. But this time, when she pulls back, there’s a look of panic on her face instead of yours.

“Y/N,” she whispers.

“You’re worth the risk,” you tell her softly, pulling her in again. “But we should probably talk about all of this when Ellie isn’t going to possibly wake up in our laps.”

She nods, but she doesn’t make any moves to leave. The redhead instead wraps an arm around you and tugs you in closer, if that’s even possible. Her hand gently finds its way around your waist, and she absentmindedly traces patterns on your hipbone while the other hand gently runs its way through your daughter’s hair.

You shift just slightly to lay your head on her shoulder, and that’s when you feel a delicate kiss pressed to your temple.

It’s been a while since you’ve felt that. Your ex-husband used to do that all the time, but long before you had even caught him cheating (although you had an inkling) he had stopped that sweet habit of his. You take a shaky breath.

“You okay, hun?” Melissa picks up on it immediately and looks down at you worriedly. She can read you like a book- she’s always been able to. She could read you from the second she saw you in the parking garage trying to diffuse that meltdown from your daughter.

You nod. “Jared used to kiss my temple a lot,” you admit quietly.

“I won’t do it again,” she tells you. “I’m sorry.”

You shake your head as you take another breath. “No. I liked it… it’s just been a while since there’s been any sort of romance in my life- it’s going to take getting used to again.”

“I understand,” Melissa whispers to you as she kisses your head again. “We’ll take it at your pace- just like we have been.”

You smile at her sadly. “Thank you for being so wonderful. You didn’t have to wait for me.”

“I didn’t have to, but like you said… you’re so special. Worth the wait and all the risks in the world.”

When Ellie wakes up, she insists that Melissa stay with the two of you. So the redhead follows you into your room and lays down with both of you- the little girl sandwiched in between the two of you. She whines that you two aren’t close enough for to lay on both of your bodies, forcing Melissa to get closer to you- so close that you’re hip to hip and shoulder to shoulder. Only then is your daughter satisfied and able to fall asleep with the help of your neighbor’s soft voice singing Italian lullabies.

Once your little girl’s breath evens out, Melissa stops. She turns her head to look at you in the soft light that is trickling in from the moonlight, and she kisses you gently.

You wake up before your alarm feeling absolutely terrible- whatever Ellie has, so do you. You also wake up without your daughter on you. You poke your head up just slightly to see that your girl is now on the other side of your neighbor, curled into her tightly with the blankets up to her chin. And then you realize that your arm is slung around Melissa’s waist and holding onto her tightly. You let her go to roll onto your back- and then the sickness really does hit you.

How did you catch it so quickly? Ellie was hardly around you yesterday, instead choosing to be held by her new favorite person.

The cough that you let out is horrendous, and it wakes Melissa with a small jolt.

“Sorry,” you rasp out.

She turns just her head, still holding your sleeping daughter to her chest. “You caught it.”

“Yeah,” you sigh. “But I’ll be fine.”

“No you will not be,” she rolls her eyes. “You’ll be staying home so you and your daughter can rest.”

“I don’t have any sub plans, so I have to just make do,” you cough out.

Those green eyes are rolled again. “I have sub plans from last year. I’ll put them in your room, because you are not going into school today.”

“Mel.”

She takes one hand away from around Ellie and lays it on your forehead and then on your cheek. “You’re already burning up.”

“I’ll be fine.” You go to sit up when a wave of nausea hits you, and you’re forced to lay back down. “How are you not dying right now?”

“Immune system of steel,” she chuckles out softly. “I already told you that.”

The alarm clock in your room goes off, and Ellie opens one eye before curling into the redhead even more.

“I have to go to work, sweetheart,” Melissa tells her gently. “You gotta let me up.”

“I go see Mrs. Howard?” your daughter asks sleepily.

The second grade teacher smiles softly. “No, hun. You’re gonna stay home with your momma today and get some rest.”

“But-”

“Cuddle with your momma,” Melissa directs her gently over her and into your arms. “She isn’t feelin’ too great either, so when I get home it’s snuggles and soup for both of you. Okay?”

Ellie hums and curls up against you. Melissa makes her way out quietly, but not before pressing a gentle kiss to your daughter’s head and then one to your own. Even in your sickly state, you can’t help but smile softly. You’re asleep with your little girl before she even leaves the apartment complex.

The next time you open your eyes, the clock is reading 11:30. Ellie is sitting up and playing with her dolls next to you quietly. She beams over at you when she sees that you’ve finally risen.

“You feelin’ better, baby?” you croak out.

She nods. “All better!” That makes you smile- having a sick child is never fun. And, if she’s feeling better today, the chances of you feeling okay or at least better tomorrow are much higher.

You manage to get yourself out of bed to make your child lunch, but even then it’s really only to heat up the soup that Melissa had made last night before laying on the couch.

Ellie plays with her toys on the floor before curling up with you and acting as your human blanket while she watches cartoons- you don’t have it in you to entertain her with anything other than a screen right now.

The next thing you know, Ellie is quietly climbing off of you to open the door for no other than Melissa Schemmenti.

You peel your eyes open to see her making her way in.

“How’re you feelin’?” she asks you, although Ellie answers.

“I’m all better!” she grins a toothy grin. “But Momma is not feelin’ good. She sleeped all day.”

“Slept,” the two of you correct her gently at the same time.

“Why don’t you come spend some time over at my place while we let your momma rest?” the redhead suggests gently.

Ellie nods eagerly before looking at you, but you’re half asleep again. Melissa takes it upon herself to just lift your little girl onto her hip and take her across the hall.

You only stir when your neighbor brings your sleeping girl back over.

“Oh, god,” you groan. “I’m a terrible mother.”

“No you’re not,” Melissa scolds you softly. “Let me just put her to bed, and then I can take care of you a little more.”

“But she-”

“She’s fed, she’s in her pajamas and shouldn’t wake up through the night because I had her use the bathroom a couple times before we settled on the couch, and she’ll be ready to go to school with me tomorrow if you’re still feeling under the weather.”

“You’re the best,” you cough a few times as the redhead heads in the direction of your daughter’s room.

She returns a few minutes later, although she passes you and heads straight for the kitchen. She comes sauntering back in a few minutes later with a hot cup of tea for you, which you take gratefully.

“You’re cute when you’re sick,” she notes softly as she sits next to your head. She pats her lap gently, and you move so you’re resting your head on her.

“No I’m not,” you laugh softly. “Jesus, I feel like shit.”

“I’m sorry you still feel like crap.” She looks down at you with so much love in her eyes before pressing her warm hand to your forehead. “Good news is your fever broke.”

“Thank God,” you mumble. “Who was my sub today, and were the kids okay?”

“Ava,” the woman tells you. “But they did great with her. I told them I would let you know how wonderful they were and that they definitely deserve a class compliment star.”

“That’s so good,” you sigh softly as you sit up to sip the tea. You make a face. “I don’t have honey?”

“I bought some on my way home today,” she waves you off. “You’re gonna need it.”

“Thank you,” you mumble as you lay back down.

The two of you watch television for a bit before the redhead can feel your breath evening out as you give back into your slumber. She glances down at you, soft smile appearing on her face as she realizes that she’s the lucky one that gets to take care of you and Ellie. Knowing that she should probably be getting ready for bed herself, she gathers you in her arms and takes you back into your bedroom. She lays you down gently before pressing a delicate kiss to your temple and pulling the blankets up to your chin. You shiver and wake when she’s turning away.

“Stay?” you request softly, catching her by the sweatshirt sleeve. She turns back with a smirk on her face before crawling into the other side of the bed with you.

You curl into her, desperately searching for some sort of warmth- you’re still freezing your ass off despite having spent all day in a sweatshirt, sweatpants, two pairs of socks, and your robe tied around you tightly.

“You’re still cold?” she raises a brow as she wraps her arm around you. You shrug. Before you know it, you’re asleep.

You wake up to Ellie whipping open the door. Her eyes are wide when she realizes that you and Melissa spent the night together without her.

#melissa schemmenti fanfiction #melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x reader #abbott elementary fanfic #abbott elementary #abbott elementary fanfiction

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rubra-wav · 2 months

Text

Vox HCs entry #2

Warnings/CW: discussion of toxic masculinity, SFW

A/N: just various thoughts I've had about this man.

- He is a musical theatre/drama fan

He gives me this energy so much due to how dramatic he is in general. His first instinct when Alastor comes back is to instantly make a callout on live TV in the form of song. 💀

I feel like he listens to musicals in 'secret' - but it's not actually nearly as much as a secret as he thinks it is. I feel like in general he gets very loud when he's passionate or excited about something.

I just have a mental image of him thinking nobody in Vee tower can hear him while he absolutely yells the lyrics of a song with headphones on at full volume while dancing out the choreography to the song.

He'd deny everything about it if you brought this up however. He grew up in the 50's and due to that I feel as if he would be very insecure about it. I'll elaborate more on that in the next point.

- Still has a fair few beliefs to deconstruct

He is from around the 50's time period, and due to that I feel like he would have a lot of internalised toxic masculinity.

He is on and off with Val who's obviously GNC, so I think he doesn't gaf too much about others and what they wear and do anymore

But I think he has a lot of shit he directs towards himself still.

Elaborating on the liking theatre thing and denying it: I think he would stubbornly deny it because he thinks it's 'too feminine' for himself to be interested in and that he thinks it makes him 'less of a man' and shit kinda like that.

I also think because of this he also has horrendous perspectives on showing emotion.

It is already canon that he hides behind a mask at all times, but I feel like even if he 100% trusts someone to be genuine around them he still wouldn't let himself do so due to thinking he's 'less man' if he does things like cry or directly seek any kind of support - especially emotional - outside of his usual compliment fishing behaviours.

I don't think his perspectives usually pertain to others as he's had a lot of exposure to different more up-to-date / nonconforming people with Val and Vel - but I do definitely feel like he has hella internalised bullshit.

Dating him in this aspect would be hard because you would need to be there reassuring him that it's okay to do things which society deems as 'feminine' - especially with what 1950's society deemed as being normal and abnormal for men.

He needs reassurance so bad about it.

I can see him as trying to keep up his mask of not needing any kind of help from you even when it's obvious he's cracking under whatever (pressure, overwhelm, stress, etc. Etc.)

- This man can't dress himself well for shit

(Mostly based upon past Voxtagram posts)

This man's closet outside of his usual outfits is largely button-up/polo shirts and cargo shorts with the most horrifically ugly patterns you've ever seen in your life.

The only reason his outfits look good ever is because of Vel forcing him to not dress like shit.

I can imagine him walking out of his room in a blue and red polo and black cargo shorts with a snapback on and Velvette and Valentino just looking at him in utter horror. 💀

I also like the idea of him having equally chaotic socks. Like you have the usual put together outfit he has on, but then he takes off his shoes, and they are eye shatteringly ugly with words printed on them.

It's ironic because if you date him he will be probably pissy about you dressing well going out together.

He's a hypocrite 🙏

- He doesn't like sweets

I can see him as not liking things that are sweet at all.

He absolutely takes his coffee black as well, it's the most bitterest gag-worthy flavour ever and you are terrified at how much he seems to like the taste.

The sweetest thing he does like in the way of drinks is diet coke.

I feel like he survives on energy drinks, but I don't think he enjoys them at all and just tolerates them.

He doesn't like desserts either. Maybe tiramisu but not frequently.

I can see him actually liking dark chocolate though. I feel like he likes bitter things.

He's totally an absolute cunt about it as well.

If he sees you having coffee with milk/creamer and sugar he's the type of person to go "ugh. I don't know how you can drink that." While fake gagging at you.

He's that mf

A/N I have multiple ideas for drabble/fics, but my brain decided to write this out for now.

If you like sweets a lot he would be annoying as fuck about it 100%

I'm a bit hesitant to post like full fics or drabbles as I don't want to in the moment be like 'yeah, this is great!' Then look at it the next morning and be tweaking out because it feels OOC or I could have worded things better. Perfectionism is a fucking nightmare 🗣/lh

#vox #hazbin hotel #vox headcanons #vox x reader

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goorehound · 1 year

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hello i have könig brainrot and i am down horrendous so could i request a könig x afab reader? i am of the belief that he has very sensitive nipples, like so sensitive he can come just from stimulation to them without touching his cock. could you write that for me? he’s very subby and he deserves nice things. i wanna see him cry in a loving, horny way <3

oh absolutely. no crying in this one, I couldn’t figure out how to work it in naturally - but I think I made him pathetic enough <3 feel free to request more, I love writing this mother fucker.

Nsfw, 18+, König x afab GN!reader, nipple play, mentions of oral

Nipple Play - König x Reader

You did know about König’s certain sensitivity, you had explored that intimately when you’d first noticed it. And you weren’t purposefully trying to be a tease, not at all, stroking his chest came naturally when you were snuggled up in bed together. Merely zoned out in your own thoughts as your hand idly traced shapes back and forth, back and forth.

König must’ve realized that it was unintentional, because he was gently pulling you from your thoughts with a soft voice and a firm hand laying over top of yours. Momentarily stilling it’s movements. “Schatz?”

“Hmm?” Eyes finding a bit more clarity and zeroing back in on your surroundings, they swept up to his face. “Hi.” You greeted cockily, more than able to glean from his heavy stare that he was worked up.

König swallowed, eyes darting over your face. “Hey.” He couldn’t help but return the smile if only slightly, then cast a wary glance down to your hand that he’d trapped against his chest. You followed his gaze steadily, giving his pec a firm squeeze after a moment or two.

“Was I playing with your tits again?” Your grin turned cheeky, looking up just in time to see his face flush.

“They aren’t tits.” He argued, but it was exasperated at best. He’d long since given up actually trying to deter you from calling his chest that, it always brought a smile to your face. And you seemed pretty into it, sometimes - he didn’t mind. More than that, the term usually had heat pooling in his gut.

“They’re excellent tits.” You shot back, massaging the handful of muscle for a moment. His grip on your hand went lax, and he almost seemed to melt back into the bed.

“Mm.” He grunted noncommittally, eyes fluttering as he resisted the urge to shut them. You could tell by the change in his breathing pattern that things were about to get fun, and you kept up a steady grope of his chest. Nothing too direct yet. “Danke.” He said wryly.

Then, you traced your thumb in a careful circle around his nipple - watching him shift his weight in the bed and try to catch his breathing before it hitched. “You’re welcome.” You cooed softly, watching intently when his tongue darted out to wet his lips. His fingers steadily made their way down your back to start tracing the skin above the waistband of your shorts.

When you purposefully swiped over his nipple his hand twitched against you, throat making a very specific clicking noise that you knew meant he was stifling a noise. Smiling to yourself, you began to kiss over the other side of his chest while your fingers idly played with the other. Pausing to leave a delicate kiss over the opposite nipple, hard through the fabric of his shirt, and he inhaled sharply. Arching just enough to press gently up against you in a silent plea for you to continue on.

“You’re being quiet.” You said, your hand creeping down to slip up under his shirt. “Are you not enjoying yourself?” The tease was paired with a sharp pinch, and he couldn’t hold in his noises. A gasp and a rough little noise expressing his pleasure.

You sealed your lips over his before he had a chance to formulate a response, swallowing the noises he let out as you continued to tweak and tease. Feeling a large hand creeping over your thigh, pulling it over his lap to rest over his hard on. The heat of it seeped through the thin fabric of his boxers, and you hummed against his lips.

Despite his persistence in trying to jostle your thigh so you’d apply some friction, you didn’t fold. Instead swinging over your knee so your thighs framed his torso. Sitting yourself on his stomach and starting to pull his shirt up, smiling broadly at his wounded look over the distance between your ass and his cock.

Your nails dragged over his chest and he shivered near violently, stretching himself out under your palms with a deep whine. “Bet you could cum from this.” His distressed noise disagreed, but dissolved into a long moan when you ducked down to seal your mouth over one of his nipples. Tongue tracing and flicking, drawing more noises from his throat.

His hand slid up to cup your head, urging you closer to him, wordlessly begging you to not pull away. Instinctively his hips pressed upward to try and get some sort of relief - melting back into the mattress when he couldn’t find any.

When you bit down on the delicate skin he cried out a bit louder, composure finally cracking as he all but writhed beneath you. “Fuck. Please. Please?”

“Please what?”

“I need you.” You knew what he meant, but you stayed quiet. Encouraging him to explain himself. “Please, let me cum?”

“I’m not stopping you.” You assured him, creating a path of kisses to the opposite side of his chest. Pleasuring him with deft fingers and a roaming tongue, scraping teeth, twisting and pinching here and there. He practically keened, still trying to rock his hips subtly. Trying to get you closer to where he needed you, to no avail.

“Please, please.” He tried again, eyes clenched shut to shield himself from his own embarrassment. “Shit.” Came his devastated groan when you didn’t budge. Leaking and twitching, writhing and squirming against the sheets and unable to fully catch his breath.

He began babbling nonsense hoping to appeal to your merciful side. It was difficult to ignore your own arousal, especially when the muscles of his stomach flexed against you in the most delicious of ways.

“Oh,” He tensed in a new sort of way, muscles going taught, his face contorting as his back arched off the bed. “Oh fuck, don’t stop.” His voice was a wreck now. Body wracked with trembles and fingers twitching in short spasms over your skull. “Fuck fuck, fuck. Close. So close.” He started stumbling over his words incoherently after that point, until he fell still and silent.

It took a bit longer than initially expected, but you could tell when he began to hold his breath in anticipation. The moan that broke free was more of a sob than anything and you could envision the mess he’d just made of his boxers. You didn’t let up until he couldn’t so much as breathe without shuddering, slurring curses that you could hardly understand, trying to shrug off your touches without completely dislodging you.

When you sat up and finally levelled your crotch with his own, delighting in the way his hips jerked up against you and pulled a pitiful noise from his throat, his arms draped themselves over his face.

“Good boy.” You raked your nails down his stomach, feeling him react accordingly. He mumbled something incoherent into his arms.

“Hmm?”

Slowly he peered out from behind his arms, lowering them down to take hold of your hips. “Sit on my face?” He breathed out in a rush, barely above a whisper. “Please?”

As if you could say no to those puppy dog eyes.

#no beta we die like men #könig x reader #König mwii #mw2 #cod #fic #ask #request

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narcissisticpdcultureis · 7 months

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Hi, so, I made a lil quiz on controversial opinions and one of them was that narc abuse isnt real and someone disagreed and gave a response that I thought was intriguing, however I am an egotypical so I figured I'd go to this blog to see your opinion on it?

The response was "Know a lot about this topic (got really deep into the NPD) and i gotta say it's fine to say narcissistic abuse. The whole pointttt is that we're all trying to help folks with NPD, narcissistic abuse is real and should be talked about but that doesn't make narcissists evil/unredeemable. Individuals w/ NPD greatly affect those around them, unlike stuff with most cases of like, existential OCD since that's most internalized rather than externalized. I don't have any issue with the term narcissistic abuse and y'know, it's like, not something you're gonna care about in 50 yrs."

i do not know a single person with NPD who felt at all "helped" by narc abuse truthers. no, 99% of narc abuse truthers are not "trying to help folks with NPD," i've never met or seen one who wasn't passively ableist at BEST. most narc abuse truthers are not trying to help, they are not trying to understand, they DO in fact think we're irredeemable and a good portion of them wish to actually wipe us off the fucking planet. multiple times i have seen narc abuse truthers just straight up spew eugenics. most narc abuse truthers don't even actually know what NPD is beyond abuser disorder.

it is true that people with NPD can affect the people around them, but that is not at all a trait unique to people with NPD. narc abuse as a term makes it sound like there is something uniquely abusive about people with NPD. all narc abuse describes is patterns of emotional and psychological abuse, nothing more and nothing less, and those patterns are not unique to us. i have been abused in ways that narc abuse describes by people did not have NPD. if you want a term that literally just means "abused by someone who had NPD," you would need to apply that same logic to every single disorder out there that could possibly have an externalized affect.

even if a term like "narc abuse" worked in theory, the communities that are fostered around it are horrendously and disgustingly ableist. it is the nature of a term like that. blaming the abuse you suffered from someone soley on their disorder not only takes responsibility off of them as a person, but also inherently subconsciously creates negative associations with that disorder and everyone else who has it.

i am going to get a bit vulnerable about something i'm not proud of. i have had a very similar mindset narc abuse truthers have about NPD but with bipolar disorder. i grew up knowing my extremely abusive father had bipolar disorder as he was diagnosed when he was younger. i blamed the majority of his actions on his disorder, it made me scared and paranoid of people who had the same disorder. i even had an old friend who was diagnosed with bipolar disorder while i knew him who explicitly told me he was afraid i'd start to hate him or be afraid of him. and a part of me was afraid of him for it. i was miserable and made other people around me miserable. i had to at some point confront the fact i could not blame his disorder for all his abusive actions, i had to make the disconnect, i could not hold innocent people with the same disorder responsible for what he did to me. it was not their fault, and they did not deserve to be held accountable by association of a disorder they did not ask to have.

i could not imagine how much worse it would have been if i had something like a "bipolar abuse" community. i maybe never would have undid my ableist views. these "[disorder] abuse" communities always inherently create an environment that is extremely negative and hostile towards people with said disorder. you can absolutely have conversations about how your abuser's mental illness and trauma affected the relationship you had with them, as mentioned before my father's untreated bipolar disorder absolutely heavily impacted our relationship even outside of his abusive behavior, but these kinds of communities are not the way to do it.

and actually, this is something i will still care about in 50 years if i have to, but hopefully i won't because hopefully it won't still be an issue in 50 years. though that may be wishful thinking.

#not culture #ableism tw

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adore-laur · 2 months

Text

REWIND: PART ONE

Reese likes to play an imaginary game using the sixteen squares above the produce section.

The grocery store ceiling bears a resemblance to a checkerboard, its tiles creating a stringent pattern with alternating colors of fluorescent white lights and grainy brown drywall. The juxtaposing design is an eyesore, and she has to play on a smaller scale compared to the standard board, but she makes it work. The challenge is a perfect distraction.

Moving her dark piece diagonally to the upper right, she ends up being captured by her pretend opponent. Two squares kitty-corner from the ploy, a light flickers...

Rewind.

There's a piece tucked in the bottom left corner that illuminates from the flash. It can be moved without being overthrown, so she plays her turn again. No consequences occur this time. That's much better.

Alas, a bleached retina will do Reese no good if she stays in a trance of staring at the ultraviolet beams, so she tears her eyes away and instead focuses on the array of freshly-misted vegetables directly in front of her.

Rutabaga. What the hell does a rutabaga look like?

The paper list in her pocket feels like an anchor weighing her down. She prefers not to go shopping alone, but her detrimental procrastination and social anxiety problems have led her to the place she currently stands at a quarter past midnight. No one else is around except for the zombie-like employees that roam the vacant aisles and robotically stock shelves, which is the exact reason why she decided to venture out at the odd time.

Reese roughly swallows down the apprehension that crawls up her parched throat and sidetracks herself by counting the heads of iceberg lettuce. Two, four, six, eight...

Rewind.

Her single mission is to find rutabaga, so she mouths the ill-sounding syllables and scans the rows of cruciferous vegetables, attempting to find one that might look unfamiliar. There's kale, cauliflower, and radishes, but nothing that appears as a godforsaken rutabaga. It's the last item she needs on her list, and with her pathetic luck, it happens to be an impossible hunt.

Reese just wants to go home. It's late, the rain is pouring outside, and her eyes burn from either insomnia or her long game of ceiling checkers. The skin of her cuticles has been picked raw, and her cheeks are starting to become prickled with heat because she's getting frustrated. She could ask for help, but that would be a crippling recipe for disaster considering her social skills amount to zero. There's also no need to be a burden, especially to minimum wage workers who also want to go home.

Taking out her phone from her sherbet orange puffer coat that she bought because it looked like a Creamsicle, Reese slides down on the cracked screen to open the search bar. She types in a few incorrect spellings of the unknown vegetable — rootabega, rootabayga, rutabayga? Thankfully, spell check comes to her aid.

A muted gasp escapes her mouth when the first picture loads. It's possibly the most horrendous-looking food she's ever seen. It almost doesn't look edible with its skin that looks like mold.

According to WebMD, it's a turnip that's not quite a turnip, therefore making everything more confusing to her. Sighing under her breath, Reese begins foraging again now that she sort of knows what to search for. The reason she absolutely needs it is because it's required for her Halmoni's infamous rutabaga and parsnip soup. She's disabled, so it would have been cruel to ask her to come to the grocery store at an ungodly hour, but she desperately wishes she were here right now to assist her. Speaking of her grandmother, she should probably...

Rewind.

Reese reels back the tangled film of her brain. If she could just focus for one second, then she could get home quicker. Just find the rutabaga!

"Broccoli!"

A voice that's not her own comes from her right, making her jolt a little. It's scratchy and it seems to be directed towards someone younger since it goes a pitch higher than what she's usually used to hearing from a man. She was too lost in her own head to realize someone was in the same aisle as her, evidently looking for broccoli and, lucky for them, successfully finding it.

Reese's phone is still in her hands, so she opens her empty messages and pretends to text a nonexistent person so she can peek over at the honey-voiced enigma. Shifting her gaze to the side, she instantly locks eyes with a bundled baby in the seat of a shopping cart. They're already staring at her, green irises and a button nose emerging from the hood of a coat that engulfs their tiny body. Their legs kick in the seat, and their hands hold a squeezable pouch of applesauce, the mushy substance dripping onto the mittens that they wear.

Reese's cheeks color with a rubescent flush when they point their hand and begin making gurgling noises of nonsense. Regret instantly seeps into her nervous system.

The mysterious voice playfully gasps and says, "Yeah? Tell me more."

Stuffing her phone in her pocket, Reese wanders further away from the potential awkward position she might put herself in. She doesn't dare to look at the man as she hastily turns her back to them and heads over to the display of vibrant fruits that are opposite to the vegetables. Bright lemons with leathery peels distract her eyes, but her ears are still tuned into the two people that have also decided to go on a late-night grocery store run. She assumes it's a dad with his baby, or perhaps a babysitter. Maybe someone with their niece or nephew. Either way, she doesn't want to disrupt them.

Rewind.

Dammit, she just needs to find the rutabaga and go home.

"Excuse me, ma'am, do you work here?"

Her heart plummets and her hands become clammy with anxiety. She feels as if she's in a horror movie, the moment when the main character turns around and is confronted with their worst nightmare. In this case, Reese's worst nightmare is socializing.

Taking a shallow breath, she slowly twists her head around. She might as well just press play. The nightmare, it turns out, is a handsome man that now holds the baby who was staring at her in his arms. Sat on his hip, the baby, who Reese guesses to be around the age of one, gnaws on a yellow teething ring that's clipped to the man's wrist. They're mesmerized by the stalk of raw broccoli that he holds in his other hand.

"Hi, do you work here by any chance?" he asks quietly.

Reese believes his face could make Jesus weep, surely. It can only be described as kind from first impression. Flawless skin decorated with a few beauty marks make him seem put together, physically and mentally. He has a nose that fits perfectly on his face, sloped and dotted with faint freckles. Further down, his lips that look as soft as pink sand dunes curve up into a bashful smile. He also has compelling green eyes that identically match the child's, confirming to her that it must be his daughter. The V-neck striped sweater he wears with earth tones of autumn orange, creamy white, and sangria purple goes well with his slightly tanned skin. His hair is an attractive length with soft, brown strands curling up at the ends. The rings on his fingers glow under the fluorescent lights, every scratch and bit of rust on the metal visible. It's devastating how pretty he is.

He doesn't look much older than she is, maybe mid-twenties based on pure estimate. If her guess is true, then the fact that he already has a kid makes her feel incredibly behind in life, but she shouldn't assume his family or relationship situation.

The man suddenly brings his pointer finger to touch his ear and the brings it down to his mouth, his lips forming the question: Are you deaf?

Good lord. How long has she been ogling him in silence?

"No," Reese finally manages to say, her voice sticking in her throat. "No, I can hear. And no, I don't work here."

He nods with an apologetic yet friendly smile. "My mistake. Sorry to bother you."

She forces herself to keep the conversation going. If she ends up stuttering and making a fool of herself, at least she knows she'll never have to see him again.

"It's okay," she says, doing a terrible job at trying to maintain eye contact. "Hey, um, do you know where the rutabaga is? I know you don't work here either, but I can't seem to find it anywhere."

That's good, right? She's doing well. She's honestly glad she didn't come across one of those sketchy old guys who slowly lurk by her in the aisles and tell her that she should smile more.

His eyebrows raise as he asks, "Is it that ugly-looking vegetable?"

"That's the one," she replies awkwardly while shifting her feet.

He jerks his head to the side. "I think I saw some over there. Here, I can show you."

He begins leading the way while hiking the baby up on his hip, their head lazily bouncing with each step. They look back at Reese and smile with tired, blinking eyes.

"I'm a pediatrician, so I have to know a decent amount about vegetables since my daughter is starting to eat solids," he says, stopping in his tracks and examining the display of organics. "Surprisingly," — he holds his pointer finger up and beams innocently at her— "rutabaga is a good place to start."

Reese doesn't know how to respond, so she just nods and tucks a braided strand of hair behind her flushed ear.

"I'm Harry, by the way," he adds as he picks up a discolored bulb. He then points to his daughter who is drifting off. "This is Marlowe. She had trouble falling asleep tonight, so we decided to go on a little adventure. It seems to be working."

"I'm Reese," she mumbles shyly. "She's your daughter, right? She's very cute."

Harry looks at her with a steady, hypnotizing gaze. "She is. Thank you, Reese." His eyes drop down for a brief second before he says, "I love your style."

Reese looks down at her outfit. It's casual, but she prides herself on the way she's able to coordinate unique vintage pieces. "Oh, uh... thanks. I like your sweater."

He hands her the rutabaga and then rolls his sleeves up, revealing inked skin. "I got it at a thrift store near Sister Bay. Are you from around here?"

"I'm from here, yes. I've been to that thrift store a couple of times."

"Strange that I haven't run into you at one." He grabs a bundle of carrots and inspects them. "It's beautiful this time of year, isn't it? All the trees are changing colors. And the early sunsets."

Maybe he hasn't run into her because she rarely leaves the house, and her only friend is her grandmother. It's probably why she's single, but that's beside the point.

"I love northern Midwest skies," she replies, watching his daughter slowly close her eyes and rest her head against his shoulder. "I think the aurora borealis was supposed to be tonight, but I'm pretty sure the rain ruined it."

Harry points his thumb behind his back. "I saw it on my way in! No joke."

Reese supposes she's been in the store for way longer than originally planned. Or maybe it's her mind playing tricks on her. She doesn't even want to know what time it really is.

"Really?" she asks, trying to catch a peek out of the store windows over the tall shelves.

"Yeah, it's gorgeous. It's raining pretty hard, so the lights are a bit faint, but..." he trails off.

"Shit, it'll go away soon." She immediately slaps her hands over her mouth. "Sorry! I didn't mean to swear in front of your kid."

He grins, deep dimples indenting his cheeks. "No worries. You should be able to see the lights if you just look north where Lake Michigan is."

"Thank you so much, Harry" she tells him, teetering on the heels of her feet. "Um, I'm going to go look for them. Thanks for helping me find the rutabaga."

He just politely nods and waves, then continues shopping. After Reese checks out, she grabs the two brown paper bags full of her groceries and heads through the automatic doors. The rain is coming down hard, slanted and pelting the pavement. The parking lot is empty except for about five vehicles spaciously sat getting a free car wash from nature. Her sneakers squelch with each step as she veers left to try and catch a glimpse of the lights. Raindrops cascade off her coat, and her mom jeans are becoming splattered with dots of wetness. Her sleek black hair sticks to her face, but she oddly loves the feeling.

Eventually, she stops walking and looks up, goosebumps immediately spreading from her neck down her spine when she sees the polar captivation. The faint neon green and violet streaks painted over the starlit horizon are mesmeric. Her eyes don't want to break away from the atmospheric phenomenon. It's dreamlike, yet surreal. She feels as if the earth is putting on a show just for her, the brilliant curtain of colors dancing across the sky.

She stays frozen in place for several minutes, admiring the flickers. It's much more interesting than the grocery store ceiling. This is real life, not some mythical game she created to escape her mind.

This is the perfect distraction.

Reese suddenly hears footsteps from behind, splashing noises from the puddles echoing around the empty lot. She turns around to see Harry walking towards her, a long, plaid coat thrown over his sweater now. One hand carries his daughter and the other holds a clear umbrella over his head, along with three heavy grocery bags. He's lifting them with incredible ease.

"I told you it was beautiful!" he calls out.

Reese purses her lips and squints up at the sky. "It really is."

He strides over and holds his umbrella over both of their heads. "Worth getting soaked for?"

He's close. So close to the point where she notices a small silver earring in his left ear that reflects off the streetlights in the parking lot. Her gaze then falls upon Marlowe as she's fast asleep in his arms, her face squashed on his shoulder and her lips pouted.

"So worth it."

"Hopefully she stays asleep," Harry murmurs, adjusting his grip on the grocery bags.

"Does going to the store usually help?"

"Anywhere but home seems to help. Being a pediatrician means I sometimes work the night shift, so I take her to the hospital with me. That's probably why her sleep schedule is a mess. I don't really have any other choice, though."

She doesn't want to pry, so she simply responds with, "That sounds rough."

He sighs and says, "You could say I'm in desperate need of a babysitter. It's such a small town, so it's difficult to find one that's not already booked. My family doesn't live here either, which means they're not able to watch her."

Reese's brain fast-forwards before she can stop the tape. It reels past every logical outcome, pausing at an accidental place.

"I can babysit," she blurts. "I mean, I'm not a professional or licensed by any means, but I have a little brother who I watch all the time and I'm sure babies can't be too hard."

Harry blinks once. "You're serious?"

She can back out. She can preserve her social battery. She can say goodnight and never run into such a gorgeous specimen again.

"No, yeah. I'm super serious."

Rewind, rewind, rewind.

No! Press play!

Reese is going to do this for her grandmother. She can't sit around being unemployed anymore and expect money to grow on the tamarack trees. She needs to start pushing past her trepidation and get a kickstart on something that reaps benefits. What she really needs to do is start letting life happen naturally and in real time. If working for a hot dad can pay next month's rent, she should snatch that opportunity immediately.

"Wonderful," Harry says enthusiastically. "I'll want to do an interview and run a background check if that's okay. I just met you, so I hope you understand my being a bit wary."

Reese nods quickly. "Of course. That's not a problem."

"Awesome." He kisses the side of his daughter's head. "Can I get your email or phone number so we can set up a date and time?"

She takes her crinkled grocery list out from her pocket as well as her lucky pen she brought along that she clicks whenever she gets anxious.

"Also," Harry says, clearing his throat, "Marlowe is deaf. I really should have prefaced that. It's why I asked in the store if you were deaf because... I don't know why, actually. I guess it's just a habit for me now."

"I understand," Reese assures while writing down her number. "That's not a hindrance to me at all. My grandmother is partially blind and in a wheelchair, and I know it's not quite the same as deafness, but I have experience dealing with—"

"You'd be helping me immensely, Reese," he softly interrupts. He then smirks and narrows his eyes. "If you get the job, that is."

She laughs, breaking eye contact because goddamn, he's scarily easy to talk to. "Well, I'll be expecting a call."

He clicks his tongue and takes the paper from her. "Absolutely. Have a good night, yeah?"

"You too."

Harry looks at his daughter who has now woken up. She's already studying him as he bends his fingers down to touch his palm twice. "Say bye-bye, Mar."

She smiles and looks at Reese, imitating his gesture with her tiny hand. She awkwardly returns the gesture, then waves one more time to Harry before making her way to her car.

On the way there, her rutabaga falls through the soaked paper grocery bag and rolls past her sneakers, stopping at the back tire of her car. She probably should have wrapped it in a reusable produce bag.

Don't rewind, she tells herself. What's meant to be, will be.

——

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles au #harry styles fluff #harry styles x oc #dadrry #dad!harry #harry styles #adore-laur #rewind series

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