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#i don't think he's a bad dad but that was not the best decision
bakedbeanchan · 1 month
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random fire nation diplomat #492 will never understand the complex and fucked up relationship between the water siblings like I do 🙄
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skrunksthatwunk · 5 months
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kinda drives me up a wall when people go "hey i think x action in a war/combat scenario is inhumane and cruel and shitty" and someone responds with "oh but within the laws of war it's allowed or there's procedure for it etc etc". it doesn't have to be a war crime to be unforgivable man it's a shitty rulebook anyway
#like whether or not something's bad isn't determined by whether or not it adheres to arbitrary rules people made up and never obey#i thought we all knew that already. c'mon man. get a grip#obviously war crimes are bad but that's not where the badness potential ends y'know#this post is due to my dad talking about smth i sent him mentioning US troops firing on a bunch of guys in smth on deserters and he was lik#well they're not like citizens or refugees or deserters they're retreating enemy combattants. so it's different.#it IS different but isn't it still like. overly brutal? idk.#like would you want them to pursue Your ppl regardless? are they not allowed mercy just because you proved stronger? your positions could#be swapped easily and you'd think that as fellow combattants you would feel that deeply. idk maybe i'm just too soft or whatever but like.#seems stupid to me. war generally seems stupid to me but this specifically right now seems stupid to me#yes i know there are practical concerns and sacrifices in combat that make sense when you're actually there and me saying there should be n#wars and we should make it a fucking priority to not have wars doesn't mean ppl already in a decision-making role in the field should do#what i (an idealist) would do. they're responsible for minimizing loss and shit. whatever. doesn't mean it's not fucked up anyway.#and that's assuming the best case scenario for a leader in such a position. usually they just want to minimize Their side's losses. usually#by maximizing the other side's. or they just want to win and will sacrifice anyone for it if it's practical#which happens a Lot. usually it's a mix of the latter two to my understanding#as if americans' lives matter more than anyone else's and the other side doesn't have a right to mourn bc they offended us somehow#ugh that shit irks me so bad dude. there'll be like a terrorist attack in europe or smth and the news'll be like#ONE AMERICAN WAS KILLED. and twenty swiss. THE AMERICAN WAS VISITING FAMILY THERE ON SUNDAY MORNING WHEN TRAGEDY STRUCK etc etc#fucking hate that. i don't care if they're on 'my team' or whatever they're all equally human and equally dead#why the hell should i care if one of them was an american. just say 21 people died. like i get reporting on it briefly ig to like notify#ppl At Best but like. it's so grating. why can't you be normal about other people fucking goddamn you#why is this a controversial statement. why is giving a shit about people killing each other (often for like 10 ppl's financial gain) wrong#like. come on. i don't care if they 'deserve it' or whatever because i don't think they do. and even if they Did i don't think it's#America's Time To Step Up!!! every time smth like this happens (but only when it is financially beneficial to us to do so#such that we ignore atrocities all the fucking time bc it's inconvenient. we're not superheros. we're cops.)#not saying america shouldn't do anything bc like. idk. you screw everyone over to have all the power maybe you should use that influence fo#good. but my definition of 'good' is wayyyy way different from everybody who's ever held office here apparently so like. nuts to that#eugh. anyway im cutting myself off here rant over. for now
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unclewaynemunson · 6 months
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"What. The. Fuck."
Over years of living in a trailer park, Eddie has seen his fair share of weird shit. But this right here? This surpasses everything.
Wayne is sitting on the couch in the living room, with an actual baby in his lap and a completely deadpan expression on his face like this is something that happens every day.
"Hey, Ed. Meet Sasha Munson."
"Sasha Munson?" Eddie repeats, hoping that saying the name out loud will make this whole thing less surreal. It doesn't, so he automatically switches right into disbelieving panic mode instead. "Sasha Munson?! What the fuck? She isn't mine, I promise, it's literally impossible, someone must've - Wait, hold on - Is she yours? Aren't you like fifty years too old to knock someone up? What the fuck did you do? Who's the mother? What were you thinking, man, we can't take care of a -"
"Eddie, sit down."
"No, I'm not sitting down, this is ridiculous, what the fucking fuck, we can't -"
"She ain't mine and she ain't yours."
"What the-" It takes a few seconds before Wayne's words sink in. Then, Eddie freezes mid-sentence, giving his brain a second or two to catch up to what Wayne just said.
"Wait, what?" he asks.
He gives the sleeping baby a distrustful look. It's small - too small to be a human, if you asks Eddie. It scares him a little bit.
"Then whose is she?"
"I told ya to sit down, Ed."
And Wayne's voice is so strict and serious that Eddie can only obey.
"Your dad was here earlier."
Those few words are enough to tell Eddie exactly what happened. He immediately feels sick to his stomach. He wants to cover his ears, or walk out of the trailer and never come back. But instead, he keeps sitting, frozen in his chair, and listens to what Wayne tells him.
"Sasha is his daughter. He had this girlfriend, Melody, 'bout a year ago. She's much younger than him, is all I know 'bout her. I think they were kinda serious at the time. But Clyde went and messed it up, of course. Cheated on her. She dumped him. Then showed up again a few weeks later all sobered up and told him she was pregnant. Far as I know, things went okay for a while after that. But she caved right after she gave birth. It took a toll on her, Clyde said. So she needed the drugs again. He left her; he didn't see a way to help her and he was worried 'bout Sasha's safety. So he took Sasha with him and brought her to me. Said he couldn't take care of a baby and that was that."
It is a story eerily similar to what Wayne told Eddie about his own early years, whenever he'd ask him questions about his parents.
Eddie looks at the tiny human in Wayne's arms. Her eyes are closed and her mouth is just slightly agape. She's wrapped in a blanket that has a soft shade of pink, with tiny elephants printed across it.
"He never learns, does he?" Eddie remarks with a sigh.
"He doesn't," Wayne affirms in a soft voice, shaking his head. "But you know what, if these are the consequences of his actions..." He first looks up at Eddie, then down at the baby in his lap again. "I can't even be too mad at him for it."
"Jesus Christ, what a mess."
"Don't think too badly of him, Ed," Wayne says. "He wanted to help them. Both of 'em. But he didn't know how. He did what he thought was gonna be best for Sasha. Just like he did with you. He ain't evil. Just a coward who makes bad decisions."
Eddie swallows thickly.
"We'll make it work," Wayne says with certainty in his voice. "It'll be tight, but we'll survive. We did it before, we can do it again."
Eddie nods.
"You wanna hold her?"
He shifts uneasily. She seems so fragile. He doesn't know a single thing about babies; he is his father's son, after all, not Wayne's, no matter how much he wishes he were.
"C'mon, Ed, she's your sister."
It's only now that Eddie notices how well it fits, Wayne with a baby in his arms. Like he was made to be a father. Like Sasha belongs there. There aren't any pictures of Eddie as a baby, as far as he knows, but he imagines it must've looked somewhat like this scene: the exact same couch, a different blanket, and a younger version of Wayne. One with less wrinkles and more hair; less worn-out by the sorrows Eddie has given him over the years. It's simple for Wayne, in a way it isn't for Eddie's father, and in a way that Eddie fears it won't be for him. To hold her gently and let her sleep to the rhythm of his heartbeat. To sit with her quietly and do nothing else. To give love and patience without expecting anything in return.
Eddie rises from his chair and sits down next to Wayne on the couch. He utters a shaky breath, trying not to show his nerves, and wipes his sweaty hands over his jeans before holding out his arms.
“Just like that,” says Wayne softly while he places Sasha in Eddie's arms.
She's warm and has that specific newborn baby scent clinging around her. She's heavier than Eddie expected. She stirs a little bit and makes a tiny sound, but then she continues her peaceful sleep. He studies her: her closed eyes, her tiny nose, the way her head rolls around helplessly if he doesn't support her steadily enough; the hand that's hanging out of the blanket, with minuscule but fully developed fingers that grab around nothing. He listens to the steady sound of her breathing and imagines the tiny lungs inside her body working on pure instinct to keep her alive. His sister.
He looks up and finds Wayne staring at the two of them with tears in his eyes. He only catches Eddie's gaze for a fraction of a second, then he looks away, to the window on his right side.
“You're wrong, you know,” Eddie says.
Wayne turns his head back to him.
“Bout what?”
“She isn't his. Neither am I.” He looks up from the girl in his hands to meet Wayne's eyes. “We're both yours. He didn't do jackshit for us, just dropped us here with you and ran away. You're the one who raised me, Uncle Wayne, and that makes me yours way more than his. And Sasha? We're both gonna be here for her, every step of the way. We're gonna change her diapers and feed her milk - I don't really know anything else about babies, but we're gonna do all of that, together. We're gonna see her grow up and become a person. She's ours.”
Wayne produces a noise that sounds somewhat like a choked-off sob. He puts an arm around Eddie and drags him closer towards him. He doesn't say anything, but Eddie didn't expect him to. He understands.
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marymary-diva17 · 2 months
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A marriage for peace and political
zuko x water tibe reader x male mai
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This is story had been published on my wattpad, and I decide to bring it over here.
The war of the nations had been going on for 100 years and the fire nation kept on gaining ground and power, all over all the other nations. There had been a time of peace that came in the war and that peace was made through a political marriage or arrange marriage. That marriage was your marriage the second daughter of Hakoda of the southern watertribe you had been given away in marriage. As you were not just marrying the fire lord son, but also another Nobel man that is an ambassador. All the other nations and everyone thought this will be for the best as no wanted anymore war to happen. 
Y/n " dad" 
Hakoda " listen I know you must hate this idea but it need to be done" 
Y/n "......" 
Hakoda " I can't send your brother or sister they are to much of value and importance to all of us ... they are part of avater team we can't lose them" 
Y/n " i know that dad but have you heard about the stories of the fire lord he cruel and scary man ..." 
Hakoda " yes I have heard them y/n but sacrifices have to be made and this is one of them you are one of them" 
Y/n " please father o will do anything for my people but I'm scared" 
Hakoda " think about your people think about all the all other nations and all innocent lives that will be lost of you don't do this .... You can't be selfish" 
Y/n "  father ..." 
Hakoda " leave now I need to speak with my council and elders Wes most think for battle with three other nations, a war will come and war " you wish to say something else but your father had you escorted away from his office once words got to your siblings and their friends it didn't get better. 
Katara " please y/n we need this war to end we can't have aang go he not ready he hasn't master fire yet" 
Y/n " I'm just overwhelmed and scared that all this major decisions" 
Sokka " don't you think we all feel that you haven't been doing anything but stay here and healing, while the rest of us have been risking it all" 
Toph " I can sense many emotions right now" 
Sokka " if we don't have an answer by the end of week the war the fire lord wish for answers" 
Y/n " I ...." 
Aang " y/n I make a promises as an avatar and air bender if anything happen I will come help you, as you have my oath as avatar and all those that came before me" 
Y/n " I just need some time alone" 
Katara " fine go while we stay here and think about a back up plan" you could feel you were not welcome so you had soon taken your leave right away. As you were walking you had been getting cold shoulder from many people as they were all in fear. 
Gran gran " my dear" 
Y/n " hey gran gran" 
Gran " I came to see you I have heard the news" 
Y/n " I want to say yes for my people and everyone else but I'm scared" 
gran gran " it okay to be scared my dear whatever decision you make it will always love you and be with you in personal and spirt" you had hugged your grandmother as your cried, you had made your decision that night. 
Y/n " father I have made my decision" 
Hakoda " what have you decided my father" 
Y/n " I will take the marriage for safety for my family and everyone" everyone was happy about the news a hawk had been sent, and I'm days a fire nation ship had come with your future husbands. 
Iroh " lady y/n I will love to present my nephew prince Zuko and mister mao" 
Y/n " hello it good to meet you both and I hope our lives together will be good" 
Mao " hello it good to meet you"
Zuko " yes what you have done is honor and we hope to show you were are not that bad" this marriage will not be bad after all as you had thought, as the others around were either good and bad. Maybe you should give your future husband a chance and see their true selves. Celebrations had been held in your tribe you had tried to speak with your sibling and friends but they were with everyone else. You had been given the opportunity to get to know some of future family better. That next day you had left your home. 
Y/n " take care everyone I hope to see you soon" 
Katara " we will meet again" 
Y/n " yes and now we have peace life will need to be rebuild" 
Fire nation solider " lady y/n we are rests to leave" 
Y/n " coming goodbye everyone and please take care all of you" you soon got onto the fire nation ship, looking down to everyone and waving goodbye. You soon saw your home getting smaller and smaller as you head toward your new home. 
Iroh " I know you have heard bad stories about the fire nation and my family, and I don't blame you for being scared but we are all not that bad ... my nephew and mao might seem a bit scary but he a good young men and I have raised taught and many other well to be good and not to, follow their parents path"'
Y/n " thank you iroh I'm happy to know I will have friends there for me I, hope I can be a good addition to the royal household and ambassador household as well" 
Iroh " you will be amazing"
Zuko " uncle may I and Mao have some words with our wife" 
Iroh " yes" Iroh soon left the young couple to talk together, knowing it was going to be a long trip home.
Mao " we know you fear what life will be like in the fire nation but we will not be living there"
Y/n " huh why you are royalty and noble born"
Zuko " yes but I made a deal with my dad will be living on ember land it will be good for us all, and we get to know each other and live the lives we want if that fine with you"
Y/n " I'm fine with that if can keep bending and healing, and keep some cultures I have"
Mao " yes it will be good as we all should keep what we love most close to our hearts" this marriage was not going to be bad after all, you had been able to get to know your husbands better and their created famiky good as well. Life is going to be hard away from the water tribe but you know you will adapt to your new life and home.
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dearshelby · 27 days
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#2 from that romance prompt list with tommy please 🥺
Honestly, nonnie, idk why this landed so far from romance 😅 hope you enjoy anyway
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prompt 2. yearning for just one hug after being separated for so so long + Tommy Shelby
Logically, his presence didn't make any difference in the house. Your routine didn't change in any way and every single day, you were reminded your marriage was one of convenience.
You married Thomas Shelby in 1932, after your dad, who was running for mayor, thought it'd be a good idea to offer your hand to someone more powerful, such as a parliament member.
Although powerful, he did not have the best reputation, the rumors had he was a gangster, widowed and divorced for unfaithfulness and absence. You could get a better man, but surely not as rich.
So you accept it, days quickly went by while you took care of his son Charlie. You knew he had a daughter as well, who he let live with her mother and rarely visited.
Besides only marrying you to become respectful, Thomas was a decent husband. All special dates were celebrated with dinner at a fancy restaurant, he often gave you gifts and sex happened once a week. Although not bad, everything was scheduled, cold and impersonal.
Recently, he took a trip to America and as always, he called to check on Charlie (you wouldn't dare to assume on you too) every Wednesday at the same hour. You were waiting in his office, aware of how distressed he got when you didn't answer.
Fidgeting with your teacup, you observed the belongings on his desk, a horse wooden statue, glass bottles for whiskey, an expensive looking pen and many pictures.
Two of them always caught your attention, Grace and Lizzie, you knew who they were, the women who truly knew him, those who for the good or the bad, he let in. You'd never compete.
The phone ring interrupted your pondering, you jumped at the strident sound.
“Hello,” you heard his husky voice on the other side.
“Hello, how are you?”
“Fine,” he sighed, “how's Charlie?”
“He's alright, complained about homework today,”
“If he's struggling get him a tutor,”
“I don't think he is, just boyish laziness,”
“Hm,” he got quiet for a second, then finished, “I just called to say I'm in London, I'll be home soon,”
“What?” you got confused, “When did you leave America?”
“Few hours ago,”
“But are you coming home today?”
“...in a few hours,” his tone was patronizing, as if he was explaining something obvious.
“Oh, hm, okay,”
“Great, see you later,”
“Bye,” you whispered and he hung up.
You gulped, weirded out by Thomas calling to tell he's coming home. Usually, he just came back, no announcement or fuss. Whatever, you thought, leaving the office.
Sunset was coming soon when you told Charlie to bathe and get dressed, he didn't seem excited for his father's return and to be honest, neither did you. Nonetheless, you had to keep up appearances, a family you were and like a family you'd behave.
Waiting by the living room, you put on jazz to play low and asked Frances to serve dinner soon. Charles sat on the floor with a book. It was like you were normal.
The sound of a car parking in front of the house announced Tommy's arrival, you walked to the entry and his boy followed after. The man crossing the door looked exhausted, much more than he usually did.
“Hi, dad,” Charlie greeted.
“How are you, son?” Thomas messed up the kid's hair.
“Fine, I'm finishing a book,”
“Well, go on then,”
You were silent until the boy left the room, smiling politely to your husband, “How are you?”
When you leaned in to kiss his cheek, Tommy's arms wrapped around you. His chin rested on your shoulder while his hands pressed you against him. You were so surprised you didn't hug back.
You didn't know how long he held you, it was enough for you to breathe in and out three times until he let go.
“Thomas-”
“I'll go to my office,”
“But-”
“Yeah?"
"What about dinner?"
He looked away from you, as if he was about to make an important decision, "Let me know when it's served,"
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max-nico · 7 months
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Sonic has been called an "overprotective big brother" over the years many times. Not his fault that Tails is small, impressionable, and reckless. He's known the kid since he was a toddler, if anyone else had been around that long they would understand too.
Or at least he thought they would, but it seems he was wrong because his own two best friends–Amy and Knuckles–are the ones who call him overprotective the most. This is a huge betrayal on their part, especially when they bring up valid points like Tails' intelligence and skill, because how could he disagree. Sonic has the coolest, most awesome and amazing, little brother ever. 
With that being said, Sonic is pretty sure he has the right to interrogate the little fox this time. He's like 90% sure his panic is warranted when he sees his little brother load and cock a very real and deadly gun. Because that kid is 9. He is 9, and he is putting on his watch and his plane gear to leave, and for some reason he needs a weapon wherever he's going. Sonic thinks he has a right to exercise at least a little big brother privilege here, honestly it would be negligent to not at least question him. 
"Hey bud. Whatcha up to?"
Tails' ear flicks toward him as he packs a few things into the Tornado. "You remember that hard drive that GUN thought they stole from me, but I actually knew they wanted it so I lowered a few of my defense systems so that they could grab it and leave me alone?"
The answer is no, Sonic has no recollection of that happening at all. Though he supposes it's his own fault for only half listening when Tails was talking. He's really gotta break that habit.
"Sure do." Sonic lies.
"Well, I actually have a little bit of data on there that I forgot to back up to another hard drive since I didn't think I needed it, so I'm going to go get it."
"And you need a weapon for that? Why don't you just ask Shadow?"
Tails finally turns to face Sonic, floating down off the Tornado and in front of Sonic. He stands with his hands on his hips, leaning just a little into his personal space. He takes the chance to absentmindedly scratch behind his little brother's ears, making him push his head into his hand.
"I did, actually. He's the one who told me to bring some weapons, he said he wants to help me improve my stealth techniques."
"Huh, and he didn't even bother to text me about it." Sonic huffs. It comes out playfully, but he won't deny being a little peeved that Shadow didn't message him. Tails is a genius and can make his own decisions, sure, but he's also not even in double digits. Sonic is literally his guardian, he feels like he should've been consulted about this. "I find that quite rude."
Tails smacks Sonic with one of his tails. The fur gets trapped in the small quills on his face, which makes his brother giggle.
"Then how do you find that, hm?"
"I find that the person who did it has another thing coming."
Sonic is so gonna fill his pillows with quills and shaving cream again. The fox constantly complains about not being able to get his quills out of any furniture, but he also got his fur stuck on Sonic's face, he figures this is pretty good retribution.
"Sure I do."
This is what Sonic means. Where did his wholesome brother go? Ignoring the fact that he has been a little menace since they first met, this is obviously team Dark's fault. Their devious ways are corrupting his little brother, who has obviously only learned nice things from him, like dad jokes and spindashing.
Tails has been constantly hanging out with team Dark for a few months now. After spending time with Rouge on Amy's last birthday he seemed to acquire a sort of childish fascination with them. Honestly, Sonic didn't really see it as a bad thing at first. They got Tails to spend more time out of his lab, and they always seemed to take care of him so Sonic had no qualms as long as Tails was having fun.
Then the habits came. Habits that Sonic had managed to completely purge a couple years back. Sure, he's not building bombs willy nilly anymore (as far as he knows anyway), but a few weeks ago Tails showed him the Empire nuclear launch codes just because he could.
Just yesterday they were having a conversation about a grocery store in station square. Amy had apparently told him that the cashier was kind of rude, so he asked if she wanted him to "blow up the entire store". She laughed and said no thanks, but when Sonic just shook his head at him Tails had the audacity to say "he'll make sure there's no one in it", as if that was the problem with what he said.
Sonic will not claim to have clean hands. He will not say he's never killed anybody on purpose or on accident, but is it so much to want to spare his brother from the same fate? Sonic still has nightmares over things like that, and even if his little brother is joking, he just can't find it in himself to laugh.
It's obvious Sonic will have to talk to Shadow and Rouge soon, he would talk to Omega as well but the robot honestly just does whatever he wants. Sonic can respect it. He cannot, however, respect Shadow and Rouge teaching his kid brother bad stuff, like how to get away with murder and other things of the like.
"I'll be back before you know it, Sonic, I swear!"
It's obvious Sonic has just missed most of the one sided conversation Tails was just having with him, he zoned out again. Damn it.
"And I'll have my communicator on me so if anything goes wrong, you'll be the first to know! I'll stay safe, Shadow will be with me."
Tails says that as if it's any comfort to Sonic. He may trust Shadow with his life but he does not trust him with children. He's sure Tails will come out physically unscathed, but mentally? This is going to be a trainwreck.
Sonic sighs. He already knows he won't be able to convince him not to go, at least not in the small timeframe he has, so he just pulls the kid in for a hug instead. "Call me as soon as you're able, okay?"
"I will, promise!"
"And if you're not back and not answering in 24 hours, I'm coming to find you myself."
"Yes, Sonic." Tails says, pulling away.
"And I'll give Shadow a piece of my mind if I have to, you know I will."
"I'm leaving now."
"And so will Knuckles and Amy!"
"Goodbye!"
"Remember what I said about calling!"
"I can't hear you anymore!"
Sonic smiles as Tails starts his plane, the kid will be fine, he knows it. After all, he's sure Shadow and Rouge know the consequences if he's not.
woe, the brothers be upon ye I wrote this in like two sittings and its barely been edited, I'll probably put this on ao3 later after I've looked at it again lol. you're welcome to hit me up in my dms or askbox, but if it's a request I would prefer my ask box lol. Remember you have to be nice to me forever and ever and ever if you decide to talk to me btw
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luveline · 10 months
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Hey Jade! Could I request some more kisses before dinner au? Steve and reader both have a bad day (Reader with her pregnancy and steve is just overwhelmed with looking after everone?) and they have a fight in the evening before, during or after dinner. The girls get a little upset and make a plan to get the two talking again and to make up and the night ends with a big cuddle. Thank you, love you and your work, you're actually so beautiful! Xx
HI!! thank you so much angel, I hope this is OK!! ♥ dad!steve x pregnant!reader, 3k.
You said we could do this. 
Steve thinks about that line most of all. Your argument blurred into one big glob of anger, wanting to be right and silly grievances, fatigue. The only thing that stuck out was your upset face as you'd sniffled and murmured, "You said we could do this," like Steve had let you down. 
Steve regrets arguing with you, but what he hates most is having lost his cool in front of the girls. He resents himself for it as much as he does you, and he's finding it difficult to let any of it go. 
It's Avery who's claimed his lap, while Bethie and Dove lean on either side of you, Dove's face against the bump of your stomach like a pillow. Steve strokes hair out of his eldest daughter's face one silky strand at a time. He knows the girls aren't used to fighting, Steve grew up seeing it, and he didn't want his kids to see it because he knows it creates a strange and sometimes suffocating anxiety, so you and he have always argued in private when you could. 
You're very pregnant (exhausted, hormonal, going through huge changes) and Steve is trying to do a lot more to account for that (similarly exhausted, and wondering if perhaps he has sympathy hormones). The baby bump means you can't and shouldn't be doing as much. You've worked your entire pregnancy, through two trimesters of intense morning sickness, and the third and last trimester offered a reprieve from that and nothing else. 
As your uterus moves and your bump drops to make room for the last hurdle of the baby's growth, you can hardly breathe. You're always aching. Steve insists you take it easy and even if he didn't insist it's not exactly a conscious decision either of you van make. Being kind to yourself is being kind to the baby, and you're the best mom in the world —you're slowing down whether anyone likes it or not. 
Worse, your Braxton Hicks have started. They come at irregular times and never last long, but each time prompts the am I going into labour early? panic. It's not fair, Steve wishes he could take it from you, and he doesn't want you to do more than you can, but he needs a little more room to breathe, and some forgiveness. 
Because Steve did assure you that you could do this. You wouldn't have agreed to another baby if you didn't think it yourself, neither of you being that irresponsible. Lots of things come before wanting. Steve wants a big family, he could cry every time he looks at you lately and the unignorable evidence of another family member to love and cherish that is your distended stomach, but he loves the one he has now. Before you even thought about trying for your fourth, you had to know it wouldn't hurt your first three, or each other. 
Steve knows you can do this. He can do it. Today was just a bad day, and he needs your faith in him, or this is never going to work. 
Steve wants to say that to you, now he's had time to think. I'm sorry I let you down, but I need you to forgive me, and I need you to trust me that we can do it. He also wants to say Thanks for being a dick about Beth's doctor's appointment, obviously I forgot to take her on purpose, I just don't like her. He decides he hasn't calmed down enough to talk to you yet. He's mad at you but he fucking loves you, he doesn't want to hurt your feelings anymore than he already has. 
Avery kisses Steve's cheek unexpectedly, snapping him from a reverie of racing thoughts. He meets her gaze to ask what she wants, but she's swift to slide down the lengths of his legs and onto the floor. 
"Bethie," she says, meandering to where her sister sits, hands catching on Bethie's bare knees, "do you want to come and colour in with me?" 
"Why don't you bring your colours down here?" you ask. 
"I don't want to carry the table," Avery says, referring to the green and purple picnic bench she has in her room. She can't carry it, even though it's only small. She's smaller. 
"I can grab it for you, Ave," Steve says. 
"That's okay, daddy, you're tired. Please, Bethie? I need your help staying in the lines." 
Bethie raises her eyebrows. Reluctant, she climbs off of the sofa and Avery takes her hands. Steve can hear them whispering as they reach the stairs, their creaking steps covering words but not sounds. 
Steve usually puts his life into perspective quite easily. He doesn't often get angry, having had the privilege to choose pretty much every aspect that's worth agonising over. He was lucky enough to love you, and to have you love him back. He was lucky enough to have a say when you got pregnant accidentally the first time, and beyond privileged to be able to ask again, and to have you yes, to want to say yes to the second, the third, the fourth. 
He doesn't get angry at you much. When you're mean, of course, when you fall for the same weaknesses he might. A short temper, a mistimed snark. He was really mad at you a few years ago when you burned your arm on a pan he told you multiple times was hot. He was so mad he couldn't speak not that long ago when you assured him you could clean the hot sauce off of his first Hellfire shirt with a lemon and ended up bleaching the black sleeve a mottled brown. But you were cleaning his shirt because you loved him. You burnt yourself trying to help him clean your shared kitchen. All these things he's angry about, they're mistakes, or they're moments of weakness in a long receipt of kindness, and sweetness. Plus, you're the prettiest woman he's ever met, you're prettier every day. That deserves something, he thinks. Reverence, patience, anything you need if it means he gets to keep being with you, gets to keep having these stupid fights. 
And there it is. The anger wears away. Steve remembers how much he loves you (which hadn't been in doubt, the love part, but the volume —when he's mad, he loves you astronomically, and when he isn't, he loves you so much they haven't made a word for it). He wants to say sorry and have you say it back. You'll kiss him and let him hold you, his hand over your tummy, and hopefully you'll admit to understanding where he's coming from. If he's really lucky, you'll let him massage your shoulders, or hold the bump up to take the weight off. 
"Dove!" Bethie shouts from the top of the stairs. "Dove, come and help, please? We need another hand for the drawing!"
Dove perks up by your side. She slides off of the couch with little convincing, your fingers twisting a curl of her hair as she goes. 
"Have to help me," Dove says. Bethie sighs and begins down the stairs to fight the baby gate. 
Steve opens his mouth about the second they're both out of earshot again and you still beat him to it. 
"Baby brain made me act like a bitch. Sorry." 
"I knew it was baby brain and I still took the bait, so…" 
"You think I was baiting you?" you ask. 
"Not on purpose?" Steve rests his cheek across the top of the couch, fake leather cool on his skin. "You had a real reason to be mad at me. I said you didn't have to take her and then I let you down." 
"You didn't let me down," you say.
"And you're not a bitch," he says,
"I feel really embarrassed after we argue. Maybe you make me feel that way," you say, looking down at your hands, "but I don't think so. I wish you wouldn't get so mad with me." 
"I wish I didn't, either." 
"Not that we don't both get angry."
"I know what you meant." The conversation is stilted and jagged and frankly painful to manoeuvre. "Do I really make you feel embarrassed?" he asks. 
"No," you say. "I'm sorry, I don't know what I'm trying to say. This part never gets any easier." 
"But we'll keep doing it?" 
You put both hands over your bump and give him a long, serious look. "Yeah." 
Steve shuffles closer to you on the couch and tries to land you both on the same page. "What did you mean by that? That I make you feel embarrassed after we fight? I'm not mad, I just don't get it." 
You offer your hand as though you're afraid he'll reject it, pinky finger bumping his where it rests on his thigh. Steve takes it gently. 
"Stevie, sometimes, you get really mad when we fight and I– I don't blame you because I know why you get mad like that, and you've never been cruel to me for the sake of it, you aren't cruel. You've never hurt me just being angry. You've said stuff to me that hurt my feelings–" 
"I've never hurt you for no reason," he says, worried, hoping you'll agree. 
"Of course not. Steve, you've barely hurt me. But I… I think I feel embarrassed after we fight 'cos I can't stand thinking you had that much disdain for me." You squeeze his fingers. "Even for a minute. Which isn't your fault, that's how being angry works. You get so annoyed at someone that you lose it."
"I don't hate you, though," he murmurs. "You really think I have disdain for you? 'Cos I don't, honey. Not for a millisecond. That's not what it'd be about." He can't believe he's loved you this long and this is the first he's hearing about this feeling in particular. "When we were fighting earlier, I wasn't thinking about how awful you are or anything like that." 
"What were you thinking?" you ask hesitantly. 
"That I wish you'd see my side." It comes out in a rush, a sigh, his hand sliding up your wrist. "I just wanted you to see my fucking side for once."
"Are you kidding?" you say. 
He backtracks. "Sorry, not for once. That wasn't fair. It's what I was thinking, though" 
Much less insulted by his thoughts at the time of a blow up argument than the notion that he thought you were refusing to see his side after you literally asked him to tell you his side a second before, you relax. Or, you sag, and your brows pull together in pain, free hand moving to your chest. 
Steve sidles in as close to your side as he can get and covers your hand with his. "You okay?' he asks softly. 
"I'm fine. Tell me your side."
"I'm sorry for upsetting you," he says honestly. "But I need you to cut me some slack. I know you're having a really hard time right now, and I know you know I'm trying to make it work just as much as you are. Is that okay?"
You take his hand from your chest and put it over your baby bump. He could weep with relief. 
"That's okay. I really am sorry, Steve, I know I took it too far." 
"Well, I got angry twice. I wish you'd told me how you felt about it, you know? I would've told you a long time ago that I– I love you even when you're pissing me off. You don't have to feel embarrassed thinking you've lost my respect or something." 
"I know it doesn't make sense," you say. 
"But if that's how you feel," he says. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I just want us to be okay again. 
"We're okay again," you say, staring at him for a few long, slow seconds. "I love you." 
"That's the best one, right? After we fight? I love you, too," he says, hand slipping under your shirt. He'd do it if you weren't pregnant, but now you are he does it for a different reason, feeling along your ballooned tummy for something in particular. "Has she been kicking today?" 
"Only every time you talk," you say, beaming, knowing how special that is. You move his hand to the very top of your bump. "Feels like she's inside my lungs. Would you…" 
Steve grins and leans down. You pull the hair from his eyes, holding him to your chest. "Listen, lovely girl. You gotta give your mom a break, go back to sitting on her bladder for a bit. The only person who should be making her breathless is me." 
"Corny," you say, scratching his hair. 
Steve puts his ear to your stomach. She won't talk back, and he can't hear much, but he tricks himself into thinking your weird stomach gurgling is the baby speaking. 
"No," Avery says, much closer than Steve thought she was, the troupe of them having made their way downstairs while Steve was busy laying on your stomach. "This will work, Beth."
"I don't want them to be angry," Bethie says. 
"They won't be angry with us. Mom doesn't get mad, she gets disappointed, and dad only shouts when I den-danger my safety." 
You snort and Steve tries uselessly to cover your mouth. "It's a make up plan," you whisper. 
"Oh. We have to still be fighting, then," Steve says. He springs up, gives you a very tender if he says so himself kiss to your cheek, and crawls back to his empty seat. 
"Let's go," Dove insists, prancing through the open door. 
You and Steve try to look dreadfully morose. 
"Daddy," Avery says, "Mommy, we made you something to say thanks for being the best dad and mom's ever made."
"You did?" you ask. 
"And to stop worrying," Bethie says, drifting toward Steve on automatic. 
"My loves," you begin. Steve knows what you'll say —We're sorry. 
"Just listen!" Avery insists. "You're the bestest ever, and we have the new baby coming and we'll have to take new photos but we can't because she's still getting bigger, so we drew one." 
"Baby photos always make you happy," Beth says.
It's a family portrait on a jagged edged, five feet long piece of paper from one of their paper rolls. You're all very tall and there have been efforts to make each person individual. Steve stands out as the only one with shorts and no eyelashes. Your baby bump has been drawn like you're carrying Pluto around in your abdomen, and Dove is quite small in comparison. Avery has drawn herself to Steve's left, and Bethie stands to hers. It's the most impressive thing Steve has ever seen. 
"Oh, wow," he says. 
"Woah," you agree. 
"This is me," Dove says, pointing at herself. 
"That's me," Bethie says, almost dropping her corner of the portrait.
"And there's me and dad and mom and baby," Avery says, pointing at each figure, her arm blocking the crayon hair. "We're the biggest family ever." 
"And the best," Bethie says.
"Best," Dove agrees. 
If things hadn't been okay between you and Steve before, they are now. In an instant. The girls have presented you with evidence of his very greatest achievements. 
"How much do you think it would cost to get that framed?" he asks you. 
Your laugh jumps from you as though it had a mind of its own, loving and exhausted, fond. Unsurprised. 
"Couple hundred bucks," you say, hand cupping the bottom of your stomach. 
"We have that, right? To spare?" 
You absolutely don't. Steve says it to make you laugh again, only half joking, and is rewarded by your happy smile. You shuffle down the couch into his arms and he wraps you up without closing his arms, hands extended to the girls where they hesitate. 
"Come on," he says, waving his hand toward your back, "this mom sandwich is missing at least three pieces of bread." 
Avery cheers and sprints into his reach. Beth and Dove aren't far behind. 
kisses before dinner au
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one of the things that really bothers me about modern franchises, and in particular over the last 5 years or so, is their refusal to commit. what i mean here when i say this is that it's not uncommon for a major franchise to make a decision, whether about the plot or the characters, that should have had huge, world-changing consequences... and then just never address that again or worse, immediately go back and undo it. and i'm gonna pick on star wars and the mcu here because those are the two big franchises i'm into at the moment (and i think they're kind of the worst at this), but i don't want you to walk away from this thinking that this is solely a disney thing. i've seen this happen with game of thrones and supernatural and plenty of other non-disney franchises. spoilers ahead, you've been warned:
in ant-man & the wasp quantumania, scott and hope make the life-altering decision to stay behind in the quantum realm and defeat kang instead of going through the portal to return to their world. this should have been a huge meta decision for the mcu, and when i first saw it in theaters, my immediate thought was wow, what is this going to mean for the mcu going forward? are we going to get a movie/miniseries about scott and hope helping to rebuild the quantum realm? how are cassie, janet, and hank going to react to the losses of their loved ones (in some cases, for the second time)? is cassie going to become the "first" young avenger because she has to take her father's place among the team lineup (and i only say first because as of this moment, none of the other young avengers introduced to the franchise are official avengers yet)? except nope, because less than 2 minutes later, cassie had fixed the portal that had broken way back at the beginning of the movie and brought scott and hope back.
and it felt like such a cheat. i was so disappointed in that theater, not as someone who was invested in these characters on a personal level (because yay, cassie gets her dad back!), but as someone who has spent years investing themselves in the story of the mcu. what was the point of wasting screentime on scott and hope accepting their new lives in the quantum realm if it was just going to immediately be undone? the entire scene could have been cut to scott and hope making it back bare seconds before the portal closed and it would have had the same emotional impact. there was nothing added by making scott and hope (and us) think that there was no way back only to rip the rug out from under us and go "gotcha! you really thought we were gonna give this movie a sad ending? haha! you're so dumb!"
and this isn't the first time the mcu has done this. one of the biggest complaints about endgame was the decision to set it five years in the future with no consideration for how that would actually change the setting of the mcu. characters were brought back to the exact place they disappeared from with no consideration for how things might have changed in the interim five years (like planes that weren't in the air anymore, buildings no longer standing, even just something as simple as a chair being unoccupied). and then the mcu didn't even really have the courage to address how this would have shaped the world other than a few jokes and making the bad guys in the falcon and the winter soldier people who cared about how the world had screwed them over during the blip.
and things like this happen over and over and over again. the accords are put into place in civil war, but by the time we get to she-hulk, they're gone with no explanation because, as best as i can tell, the writers didn't want to have to deal with the worldbuilding that went into the accords. gamora is killed in infinity war, but heaven forbid quill not have an emotional investment in a film he appears for maybe 10 minutes in so now she's back in endgame. steve got to go live in the past with his ex-girlfriend (which is in itself a refusal to commit after the mcu both gave her a different husband and had the woman herself tell him to move on) but we need to establish that messing with timelines is bad because that's what the entire next phase hinges on so actually his ending was predestined and it's only everyone else who can't change time. whoever took this entire town and also wanda hostage and forced them to live out a sitcom fantasy is bad and needs to be stopped but wait, it's actually wanda and she can't be the bad guy yet, we need her for doctor strange 2, so actually everyone's going to defend her now and say that no one else could ever possibly understand her grief. thor has decided to accept responsibility as king of asgard, but we can't use him for any more movies if he's stuck in asgard, so actually he's decided to pass it on to someone whose entire leadership capability is developed offscreen. i could list more examples but this is making me angry, so let's move on to star wars instead.
with star wars, i look at first the oft-quoted meme, "somehow palpatine has returned." yeah, i shouldn't really need to go into detail on how that counts as a refusal to commit but. the last jedi was a study in how johnson refused to commit to anything that abrams had laid down in the force awakens, but rise of skywalker was almost like abrams had looked at the franchise and said "screw you for taking it away from me, i'm going to come up with the most bullshit stuff just to spite you for doing that in the first place. and i'm going to start by undoing the most important plot point of the first trilogy: the emperor dies." and yeah, disney's kind of tried to salvage this by dropping hints into the bad batch and the mandalorian about cloning, but that only really works if you're watching the franchise chronologically and not considering that both of those series came out after rise of skywalker.
and then there's the mandalorian, my sweet summer child, who is, in my opinion, the worst at backtracking their plot points. i'm not entirely convinced that any of the higher ups for this show really knew what they were doing when they started working on it and i'm not convinced that they know what they're doing now. yeah, there's the tie-in to the last season of clone wars, but the mandalorian has managed to walk back pretty much every single major plot point it's had. din is this legendary warrior who can't be beat, but no one will watch this show if he defeats everyone too early, so he's constantly getting beat up (tbf, sometimes some of the fights he loses makes sense like the krayt dragon and the mudhorn, but a lot of them don't. at all). moff gideon is dead, no wait no he's not, now he's imprisoned, no wait no he's not, now he's definitely dead, you can totally believe us this time guys. grogu can use the force and must be placed with the jedi, but wait, the only person still actively teaching the way of the jedi is luke and all of his students will be brutally murdered ten years from now, and we can't have that, everyone will be mad at us for killing off such a cute character and no one will buy baby yoda dolls (and also we have to set up luke's character degradation from hopeful, believes-in-love cinnamon roll to "i'm going to kill my nephew") so in between seasons let's have grogu decide to go back to din (and don't even get me started on how frustrating it is that a casual mandalorian watcher also had to watch book of boba fett to understand why grogu is back). din has the darksaber now which makes him king of mandalore, that's totally going to be important and what the entire series has been building up to, right? wrong! he might have spent the first two seasons making connections, learning about the world outside his sheltered upbringing, and demonstrating the various qualities that would make for a good leader, but the entire third season will be about din realizing that actually he's super unworthy and the darksaber should actually go to someone who... saw an animal in the water.
and it's really, really frustrating as a viewer! because how am i supposed to get invested in any of these plot decisions when they almost always get reversed? why should i care that mj and ned have forgotten peter when ant-man 3 has shown me that they'll remember him the next time they're all on screen together? why should i care that tech is dead when half of the last season of clone wars was about how echo was actually alive? if none of these decisions have any permanence, then where are the emotional stakes? why should i watch your movie if all you're going to tell me is that nothing matters?
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sinofwriting · 3 months
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Nico's Thoughts - Lewis Hamilton, Max Verstappen (It's Like I Don't Know You Anymore Verse)
Words: 599 Summary: Nico’s thoughts on his little sister and her relationships with Lewis and Max. Note(s): I’m very eager for everyone’s reactions to Nico’s thoughts.
Taglist | Masterlist | Patreon | It's Like I Don't Know You Anymore Verse
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Nico has never been totally sure what happened to make his little sister stop being friends with Lewis. They had been close and while the tension between the two drivers had started to build in 2014, it was 2016 that broke the near lifelong friendship. Nico had done his best to make sure that he hadn’t let his feelings about Lewis and the problems that were happening due to the championship battle didn’t affect her friendship with Lewis. There admittedly were times where he had ranted to her about things, cried because he was losing Lewis. Lewis who was pretty much a brother to him.
And despite those slip ups, Lewis and her were still on good terms, she still spent time with him, but then he won his championship.
He had seen her disappear from the party just a few hours in, knew that she was probably consoling Lewis, and something bitter still struck him at that, because Lewis had lost yes, but it wasn’t like he had lost his first title, he already had titles. He had figured that she would just spend the night with Lewis like she had sometimes done before, even travel home with him, like she usually did after Lewis lost a race to him.
But the next morning, head pounding from a hangover, he had been greeted with his little sister, puffy eyes, tear tracks, and silent sobs wracking her body, and he pushed the hangover away with some meds and two cups of straight black coffee that he had chugged, nearly burning his tongue.
She was twenty, but curled up in his lap, sobbing, all he could see was her at eight, crying because dad was leaving for the weekend, he was leaving for the weekend.
He still doesn’t know what happened, what exactly Lewis had said to her, just that whatever he said was so bad, that it completely rid her goodwill and thoughts of Lewis, and it made his decision all the easier to leave Mercedes, to leave F1.
Nico had never liked how much she liked Red Bull and they liked her in return, and he especially didn’t like her friendship with Max Verstappen.
He had hated that she had become friends with him in 2015, a kid, a disgrace to the sport, a reckless little idiot (now years later, shame fills him as he thinks of those thoughts he had, of how he treated Max when he first entered the sport, still a child but only seen as one when it fit their needs). In 2016 when Max had been promoted to Red Bull, he had nearly gone crazy. His little sister was friends with the little shit that had him panicking anytime he saw him behind him, because he was dangerous, willing to risk things just to get a few extra points.
Nico hadn’t been happy when she told him that she and Max had started seeing each other, scowling at his phone, and happy that she couldn’t see his reaction to the news. His nose wrinkling, because sometimes when he thought of Max, all he could think of was that stupid video of him calling Nico, Brittney.
But, and he was willing to admit that Max winning the 2021 championship did have something to do with it, he liked Max and his sister together.
Max was clearly head over heels in love with her, unable to hide it and also unwilling to do so, that he couldn’t help but like him. Because Max made her happy. And that was all he really could ask for.
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@gemofthenight @peachiicherries @lpab @topguncultleader @iloveyou3000morgan @boiohboii @benstormy @bibliosaurous @skepvids @elliegrey2803 @cixrosie @darleneslane @fanboyluvr @teti-menchon0604 @eugene-emt-roe @quackquackhun @crystals-faith @andreea-15-25 @rewmuslupin @copper-boom @stopeatread @crashingwavesofeuphoria @jointhehunt67
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aperrywilliams · 1 year
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They Will Never (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)
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(Not my gif. Credits to the creator!)
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Summary: Spencer's girlfriend is jealous. During the Christmas party at their daughter's school, the other moms don’t stop hitting on him.
Word Count: 3.5k
Warnings: 18+; Minor DNI. Suggestive and dirty talk. Smut (fade to black) at the end of the fic. If I forgot something, let me know.
A/N: I’m back!!!! This past months have been a rollercoaster in many ways. Well, talking about this fic, it could be a sequel from "That Wicked Love" multipart I wrote a while ago. Nonetheless, it could be read as a stand-alone.
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I never thought it would be easy. When I discovered that I was pregnant and Spencer wasn't going to support me, I was sure the world had ended.
There were weeks of thinking over and over again about what I would do with my life. Then I decided I would have Olivia, and that's it.
I don't regret my decision. Liv is my little girl, and I love her with all my heart, but motherhood is hard.
Since Olivia was born, my life has mostly revolved around her. Being a mother is a full-time job. But I have been managing the best I could. I continued working after she was born, and with time, some of my personal life returned too.
However, the stability of our little family was broken when a bloody bastard kidnapped my little girl two years ago. She was four back then.
That wasn't enough, though.
What were the chances of Spencer working on my daughter's kidnapping case?
I forgot to mention that I never told him I would continue my pregnancy, so it was a surprise for him to see me and know that he had indeed been a father.
Fortunately, Spencer’s team recovered Olivia and three more kids kidnapped by the same guy.
What followed was a rollercoaster of events and emotions. Spencer wanted to be in Liv’s life, and although I swore never to talk to him again, I couldn't deny my daughter of her father.
He showed regret and swore that leaving me alone while pregnant was the worst thing he had done in his life. He looked genuinely sorry, and he wanted to make it up to Olivia.
Against the odds, I let him.
He became the best dad for my girl. Since then, he has been for her at every step.
The problem? Having him close awoke those feelings I thought were buried the day he left.
I tried to ignore it. I really tried. Even if he never did something to make me uncomfortable in our co-parenting roles, I did feel off with it.
I still loved him. And months after, Spencer confessed that he still loved me too.
Would it be a bad idea? Maybe. But I left my heart to speak louder than my brain. That's why we have been dating for the past three months.
So you can guess how odd it is having your daughter’s dad as a boyfriend. Some people think we are married or living together when we are not. Others believe we are just co-parenting and don’t have a relationship.
Usually, I don't care what people think. But right now I wish things between us were clearer to the world, specifically for the moms who had Spencer cornered in the venue of this year’s school Christmas party.
Am I jealous? Yeah. But how could I not be? Spencer is the epitome of the young-hot dad, caring and lovely. And polite. Very very polite. So much so that even if he had noticed their advances, he hadn’t said anything. Maybe he likes that.
This has me overthinking, and I wouldn't say I like it because it brings all kinds of insecurity thoughts to my mind.
Right now, for example, instead of going to interrupt this obscene flirtation, I'm walking to the opposite side to check if Olivia needs anything. I can't bring myself to do something different.
It didn't help to hear part of their conversation when I was passing by a while ago.
“Your wife is a lucky girl, then,” Kimberly chimed, patting Spencer’s forearm.
“My what?” the man asked, confused.
“Your wife? Olivia's mom?” Kim explains, tilting her head. Then Spencer realizes she’s talking about me.
“Oh! No, actually, we are not married,” he corrected. God, Kimberly’s eyes go wide as if she found a gold mine. The rest of the moms there reacted in the same way.
I have nothing against that fact, but with them knowing it? It's like a door was opened. A door to the shameless coquetry, and I hate it.
I knew Spencer wouldn’t be consciously flirting with them, but seeing him laugh at their jokes and don’t even flinch when one of them gripped his forearm not only made me see red.
It was even worst: it made me self-conscious.
I know it's an irrational feeling. Of course I know there are people better than me in many things. I wouldn't pretend to be a superwoman or something close to that. But since Olivia started preschool, I have been feeling less than the other moms. At first, it was because I was raising her alone and working simultaneously. I couldn't make it to every school event or whatever they planned during the year. Now, also, there is the fact that it’s Spencer who can fulfill that role, and I still can’t. He is the cool dad with a cool job. And there are cool moms with cool jobs too, who he’s talking to at this precise moment.
Doing the math, it doesn't look like I could be up to that kind of expectation.
For the rest of the evening, I avoided being close to Spencer and the other moms. Instead, I focused on the kids and that Olivia could have fun at the party. After all, it was the primary purpose of this activity.
The ride home was mostly silent. I tried to concentrate on driving and not look at Spencer from the corner of my eye. Liv was fast asleep in the back seat.
The streets were filled with snow, and you could see the Christmas lights on the windows of each building we passed. The ambient was clearly festive, but I didn't feel or look that way.
Maybe Spencer felt something was off, but I guess he didn't want to bring it up in the car. He only made some random comments about the party, and for all of them, he got from me a curt hum in response.
When I parked, he took hold of a sleepy Olivia in his arms and helped me upstairs.
It was a well-known routine since we told Liv that Spencer was her dad, and she warmed up to him. Every time we got to my apartment after an afternoon together, he carried our daughter to her room and got her ready for bed. The little girl would open her eyes and demand a bed story from her dad.
Spencer loves reading to her, even if he knows most of the stories by heart. That's one of the many things they share as father and daughter, and I try to give them the space to do that. That's why this time, like others, I headed to the kitchen to make myself some tea.
With a mug in hand, and after switching on the Christmas tree lights, I plopped on the couch. I didn't notice before how much my feet hurt. What can I say? The afternoon’s overthinking even dimmed my body aching.
Great, now I can add ‘old and wasted’ to my self-deprecation list.
I let my eyes be entertained by the colored lights, wondering if I was being overdramatic. My thoughts were interrupted by Spencer sitting beside me.
“I couldn't finish the story, and she had already fallen asleep,” he announced, lifting my legs so they could rest on his lap. Thoughtlessly, he started rubbing my feet.
Silence took over the room. I tried to concentrate on the pleasant feeling of his hands on my aching feet, but my face sure didn't hide my sour mood.
“What's wrong?” Spencer asked cautiously, inspecting my features. I tried to play ignorant.
“Uh? What do you mean?” I lied. Spencer frowned.
“You are too quiet. You didn't say anything during the car ride, and I could tell you avoided me most of this afternoon,” he recounted.
Shit. Obviously, he noticed.
“I’m just tired,” I lied again. I didn't want to explain what was bothering me. It was silly, and I felt stupid for it. He was about to say something to question my answer, but I didn't let him.
“Maybe you should go home. I think it's better I go to bed,” I pointed, detaching my feet off his lap and sitting straight on the couch. By all means, I avoided making eye contact because I knew he would realize what I was trying to do.
During the past months, he had spent the night at mine before, but it wasn’t a habitual thing. We decided to take it slow, and neither he nor I had put pressure on that matter.
Spencer’s frown deepened, nonetheless.
“Okay. I’ll go,” he announced. “But first you need to tell me what is bothering you. I don’t bite the ‘tired’ thing,” he declared, shifting his posture on the couch to have a better look of me.
“Nothing is wrong,” I repeated, but my voice sounded even less convincing than before. The man hummed, thinking about what to say first.
“Did you know that in the US the 95% of people who are asked for a confirmation to a statement actually lie about it?” He commented. I huffed, already feeling trapped.
“Great. Now is where your 187 is displayed,” I said under my breath. It was a thought that wasn’t meant to be said at loud. But it slipped.
Spencer tilted his head.
“Hey! Now I’m worried. What happened? What did I do?” he asked in a high pitch tone, scooting to my side. I shook my head, sighing.
Maybe it was better to get clean and tell him everything.
“You - you didn't do anything. I mean, yeah. You were there, all cute and sexy. It's your fault! And they? They were all over you, gawking at you as someone looks at their prey!” I grumbled.
“They?” Spencer asked in confusion.
“The other moms, Spencer! Now you will tell me you didn't notice?” I scoffed, folding my arms over my chest and placing some distance between us on the couch.
“You mean at the party? No way. That not happened,” he refuted, shooking his head.
The bastard was denying the most obvious thing! That made anger fill my body, and I had to stand and start pacing. It was that or scream at the man.
At the loss of words, Spencer stood too, following my pace with his gaze.
I knew he could see the fuming escaping from my ears, but I didn't care.
He wanted to say something, but he didn't know how to start. I bet my pacing in the room wasn’t helping him.
“(Y/N)...” he mumbled softly to catch my attention. I turned to see him. His confused look only fueled my irritation.
“Fuck, Spencer! How can you be so clueless? They were hitting on you! God, if it were up to them, you'd already be tied to their bed frame,” I shouted, hands waving in the air to accentuate my point.
Spencer’s eyes widened.
“What? That's not true. They were being nice. That's all,” Spencer defended. Sure, he has to be oblivious right now. I would have punched him to make him realize the truth.
“Nice, uh? I didn't know nice meant touching the guy in front of the whole people every chance they got. Or are you going to deny they did that, uh, genius?” I sneered now with my hands on my hips. My blood was boiling inside as I remembered the scene.
Spencer cleared his throat. He was recalling those details, and they were hitting him now. Cautiously he took a step forward, hands trying to reach mine.
“Hey, don’t get upset. I - I didn't see that. I’m sorry,” he said, stepping in front of me and prying my arms from their position on my hips. His fingers traced delicate patterns on the back of my palms.
“I should have seen it. I didn't think it was something like that. You know I’m pretty stupid in that kind of thing. I’m really sorry,” he apologized.
I really wanted to stay angry, but seeing those puppy dog ​​eyes, looking intently at me made it difficult.
Argh! Why just one look from him it's all that it takes to feel my knees go weak?
“Don't look at me like that!” I protested.
“Like what?” He asked, kind of amused by the reaction he provoked in me.
“Like you were an innocent pigeon. All men are the same, honestly,” I complained, leaving the grasp of his hands. A new rush of anger came quickly. Spencer pursed his lips; he could tell the reason why I was upset wasn’t just the moms flirting with him.
Before I could turn and walk away, Spencer stopped me grabbing my hand and squeezing it gently so I could look at him.
“Please, don’t go. I’m sorry I didn't notice. But you know why I didn't? Because they are not you,” he declared, intertwining our fingers and grasping our hands with his free one. I looked at him, with some treacherous tears fighting to come out.
He continued.
“They are not you. You are the only one that can get my attention that way,” he declared, bringing my hand to his lips to kiss my knuckles.
“I’m not that special, you know?” I mumbled, pursing my lips to stop the tears.
There it was. The intrusive thought in my mind replayed over and over since it hit me this afternoon.
Spencer narrowed his eyes, realizing there was more than jealousy because of him.
“Don’t say that. Of course you are that special, and much more!” He rebutted, and I chuckled bitterly.
“Am I? I mean, why would you be happy with me when you can get a successful well-manicured super mom like them?” I pointed.
“What are you talking about? What is that thing about super moms?” he asked, now taking hold of both my hands.
I sighed. It was something that was hard to explain, even to me. I left the grasp of his hands, running mine through my hair, collecting my thoughts.
“Look. I don't expect you can fully understand it. Honestly, I think I can’t understand it either. It's just - I don’t know. Sometimes I think I’m not doing enough. I’m not a successful businesswoman with a six-year-old daughter, a nice car, all dolled up, perfect makeup, and baking cupcakes for the whole school, like Kimberly, you know?” I shrugged, feeling small and vulnerable.
Of all that people, I chose to compare myself with Kimberly Garland. The incarnation of a super mom. She was known as a successful CEO at a technological company. Mom of three and recently divorced. She always shows up to school activities, no matter what. And not only that, she actively participates, whether cooking, taking care of the ornaments and decorations, or whatever it needed.
How could you compete to that?
“And do you think that no being like her is a bad thing?” Spencer asked me.
Did I believe that? Perhaps I did.
“Maybe it is. Don’t you think Liv deserves a mom like that? Or you a girlfriend like that? I saw you talking to her today, and I couldn't stop thinking she could offer more than I could.”
It hurt to say those words out loud, but they were the ones plaguing my thoughts at the time.
Spencer's face softened. Great, now I'm sure he felt pity for me.
“She can’t. Kimberly or whoever you’re comparing to. You're an excellent mom, (Y/N). And the best girlfriend I can ask for," Spencer stated now strocking my cheek.
I felt silly making a fuss but the insecurities were there. I couldn't help it. The embarrasment made me downcast my gaze to the floor.
“My sweet girl. Look at me, please," he asked, tilting my chin up. I did so, my cheeks turning red under his gaze.
“Olivia is a lucky little girl, you know? She has the best mom in the world. A mom who loves her and would do whatever it takes so she can be happy and safe. Who cares if you can’t be in all those school activities? Not her, because she knows you love her. It doesn't matter if you are not a company CEO. You have your job, and thanks to that our daughter has had everything she needs. You took care of her alone in her first years. On top of that, you have always sought her well-being and happiness. You let me be in her life even after I hurt you years ago. I will always be grateful that you did,” he said, pulling a strand of hair behind my ear.
“She deserves having her father around,” I pointed. It was a decision that I made when we spoke again after Olivia’s kidnapping. Although my hurt feelings, I couldn't deny my daughter of her father if he genuinely wanted to be in her life. Our problems as adults didn't have to be a problem for her.
“And she deserves the wonderful mom she has,” Spencer declared, kissing my forehead. I blushed at the compliment.
“Now, regarding this relationship,” he began pointing between the two of us. “You have nothing to worry about. They don't stand a chance, and you know why? Because they don't even compare to the most beautiful, smart and brave person I've ever met. Who owns a small bookstore downtown, and my heart. The woman I fell in love with the moment I saw her—the mother of my child. Who gave this idiot a chance to be in her life again even when he didn't deserve it. They are not you, my sweet girl. They will never be, and that's why I could never even look at them the way I look at you.“
Fuck Spencer Reid and his ability with words.
“You mean it?” I asked tentatively. Still unsure if he was being serious.
“Of course I mean it. I’m here for the long run, and I hope someday - sooner or later - we can take the next step. I want everything with you, (Y/N), but I’ll go at your pace. I promise.”
I couldn't help the giggles that left my lips.
Could love make you this way? I felt lighter and confident. Spencer's words made me see that I have no reason to sulk that way.
“Keep talking like that, and you'll get the world, Dr. Reid," I stated, now wrapping my arms around his neck. He chuckled.
“I don't need to get it. I already have it with you,” he said, giving a peck to my nose.
"You're a sap," I teased.
"And you love it,” he added, leaning down to kiss me. I happily obliged and kissed him back, tightening my grasp on his neck. His hands planted on my hips to keep me steady.
The kiss deepened, and only we parted when the need for air was too much.
He looked at me with a devilish smirk on his face.
“You know?” he started, kissing my cheek and then my jaw. “There is only one bedframe I would rather be tied to right now. And there is only one person I wish would do indescribable things to me as I’m tied up at her mercy,” he whispered in my ear, and immediately, I felt shivers down my spine.
“Spencer, don’t. That's not helping,” I mumbled with my eyes fluttering shut.
“Isn’t it? Why? Are you thinking about it right now?” He teased. The bastard knew what he was doing. “You would like to see me all tied up, waiting for my sweet girl to do what she wants? Would you like to be in control and show those moms who own me?” he asked, as his lips left traces of kisses on my neck. His hot breath was hitting on my skin and making my desire grow.
“Spencer,” I moaned, lost in his words and eager for his touch.
"Tell me what you want. I'll give you anything," he whispered in my ear, hands running down my sides, giving me goosebumps.
“You. I want you.” Those words left my lips like a prayer—the utter confession of desire and pent-up tension. Spencer grunted.
“You already have me. I’m yours,” he murmured, pulling up the hem of my shirt, so his hands could sneak under to feel my skin.
“And I’m yours. Totally yours. But I need to feel you,” I confessed. I was so lost in his touch and starved for more.
Spencer understood the meaning of my words, so he kissed me hungrily, walking us backward in the direction of my room.
That night Spencer proved to me, with kisses, caresses, and words of adoration, that my insecurities were unfounded. It's true that I'm not like Kimberly Garland, but I don't have to be. I have a daughter whom I adore and who
loves me, a job that fills me with satisfaction, and a boyfriend that I love and who does an excellent job of showing me how valuable and loved I can be.
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Spencer Reid’s Taglist: @dreatine​ @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @tvandfanfic​ @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19  @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @disaster-in-waiting @pebble-has-a-mirgraine @anamiad00msday @chlochlosworld @milivanili99
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echobx · 14 days
Text
not my type 2 - Rafe Cameron x plus size!fem!reader
summary: Rafe comes to visit you unexpectedly and things don't quite go like you want them to
warnings: swearing, smut (p in v (unprotected), reverse cowgirl, missionary (it just happened, I can't explain it), fingering (semi-public), dirty talk, edging)
word count: 3.7k
author's note: part 2 because I couldn't stop thinking about it. I hope you like it. (also, if any of you have any clue about real estate, you are allowed to yell at me bc all my knowledge comes from watching those shows on Netflix...)
part 1
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“It's gonna have to work somehow,” you sigh and rub your hand over your forehead. You are exhausted, having been up all night to find a solution to the problem your team is facing.  Your head perks up at a knock on the door. “Excuse me, miss, the Cameron account is waiting in your office. He says he has an appointment, although I couldn't find it in your calendar.”  “He doesn't have a fucking appointment,” you yell in frustration. “I'm sorry,” you apologize immediately, close to tears but not about to start crying in front of your coworkers. “It's not your fault. I'll just go and send him away.”
“Why are you here?” you ask while entering your office, and he turns around to smile at you.  “I'm guessing you're not happy to see me?”  “It's really bad timing. You could've called,” you sigh exasperatedly while looking through your emails.  “You didn't leave a number,” he reminds you, and you slowly pick up your head to look at him.  “You have the office number,” you force a smile.  “Yeah, I'm not gonna call your receptionist to ask if you got time to get drunk or need a good fuck,” he says while walking around your desk and standing next to you.  “Would be inappropriate, yes,” you look up at him, but you freeze as you see your dad step inside. 
“Y/n, you didn't tell me Mr. Cameron was coming in. I would've welcomed you earlier, Sir,” he introduces himself and Rafe shakes his hand.  “It's really no issue, Mr. y/l/n. I'm in really good hands with your daughter,” Rafe charms him.  “She's the best,” your dad praises you, and you nod along, too tired to actually care. “Now, let me show you around,” he leads him out of your office and Rafe quickly turns his head to give you a slightly panicked look. You mouth a “have fun” at him, and then he's gone, and you are allowed to get back to work. 
“Listen, if we switch the staging company-”  “That's not gonna help with the interest rate, James,” you sigh, pacing the room.  “Was just a suggestion,” he mutters.  “I'm calling it. This isn't going anywhere. Let's go home and come back tomorrow morning with some new ideas on how to fix this shit,” you suggest, and the whole team lets out a sigh of relief.  “And here we have- Honey, what are you doing?” your dad interrupts you and your colleagues while packing up.  “Going home. We've been here for over 24 hours,” you explain.  “Can we talk in my office?” he asks, and you follow diligently, leaving Rafe and the others alone in the conference room while you go talk to him. 
“It's not a good look to leave early, especially in front of a partner,” he admonishes your choices.  “I honestly don't care what Mr. Cameron thinks, dad. It's my team, my decision.”  “Is the issue at least fixed?”  “No, and it won't get better if I don't give them any rest. I haven’t slept or showered since in two days, dad,” you complain, and he shakes his head but caves nevertheless.  “Fine. But you'll have to come to dinner tonight. This Cameron guy is a big part of our modern strategy, we can't let him slip away.”  “Okay,” you nod and walk back out of the office and towards the conference room to tell your team it was okay to leave. 
“Rough day?” Rafe asks while following you back to your office.  “Rough week. Nothing you need to concern yourself with,” you huff but inadvertently stop and turn to look up at him. “Look, all I wanna do is go home take a nice bath, sleep for two hours and then meet both you and my parents for dinner because apparently I don't have any fucking choice. So, just go back to your hotel or do some sightseeing, I don't care, but just go.” “Can I ask something before I leave?” A smile tugging on his lip.  “You just did.”  “When was the last time you actually had sex?”  You turn to make sure there was no one around who could've heard him before pulling him with you into your office.  “You can't just ask shit like that. Especially here,” you hit him against the chest, but he takes your wrist and keeps your hand flat to his body.  “See, I tried hooking up with someone else, multiple someones, but that just didn't hit the same way. It's purely a practical issue, all right.” God, how you hate his macho behavior as if you'd ever fall for it, or him.  “I'm still not answering that preposterous question.”  “So, you didn't? Was there no one or were they just shit?” he asks, a little too cocky for your taste.  “I'm going home now,” you tell him again and start putting your laptop in your bag.  “I didn't book a hotel room. Didn't think I'd need one, to be honest,” he admits and you laugh.  “What makes you think that?”  But he doesn't reply and just looks at you with his blue eyes, eyes that haunt your dreams and sexual fantasies.  “You think ‘cause we hooked up once, you'll get some kinda claim over me? Like, I'm supposed to throw myself at you the moment you step onto the stage? Well, you guessed wrong, darling,” you sneer and go to walk out of the office when he grabs your wrist.  “You didn't answer my question.”  “Fuck, okay, fine. It's shit. It's not- I'm not gonna fucking praise you, asshole,” you scoff and start walking again. “Are you coming or not?” 
“I'm still gonna take my bath,” you remind him as his hands find your face to hold onto it while he's kissing you and stumbling backwards out of the elevator, right into your flat.  “Fuck, you can have as many baths as you want. Just lemme fuck you,” he begs after pulling away.  “Jesus, you're needy,” you laugh as he rips your tight dress down, making your tits spill out. “You know that thing has a zipper right?” you ask as he starts kneading and kissing your tits like there's no tomorrow. You're getting wetter by the second, and he doesn't seem to want to stop and actually help you out of the dress.  “Rafe, please, just a minute,” you beg and he holds up to look at you.  “Whaddya need, sugar?” His light southern drawl is making you even needier than you care to admit.  “Can you open the zipper, so I can take this shit thing off?”  “Sure, can do, sweetie,” he puts too much weight into the pet name for it to not be a dig at your dad.  “Don't call me that again, please. Anything but that,” you sigh as he helps you out. 
“You know your dad's an asshole, right?”  “Aren't they all?” you huff walking over to the window front that looks out onto Central Park and leaning your head against the glass. “I grew up with him. Of course, I know he's an ass. You think I turned out this sweet ‘cause he was nice?”  “What would he actually say if he knew?” Rafe steps closer to you, opening the knot in your hair and kissing your shoulder.  “Congratulate me or disown me. Either way, it just proves his suspicions right,” you shake your head.  “Why? He thinkin’ you slept your way to the top or what?”  “Oh no, that's all nepotism. No, he thinks I slept with my professors because he can't believe that I made valedictorian and was named party queen of Harvard at the same time.”  “Did you?”  “Once, before he was my Professor, and it didn't have any effect on my grade,” you admit but have to laugh at how absurd it sounds.  “You feeling better now?” he asks while rubbing your arms with his huge hands. “A bit. I'm still not your friend or anything,” you remind him and he laughs.  “Business partners and fuck buddies, I'm okay with that.”  “Good. Grab that chair,” you tell him and point at a lounge chair that stands a bit off to your right. 
As soon as the chair is in place you push him down on it, straddling him in it and kissing him relentlessly. His hands are all over you, unclasping your bra in the back and making your tits jiggle as they drop.  “Jesus fucking Christ, why are you so hot,” Rafe rasps, running his hands over the fat on your belly before pressing his face into your chest to motorboat you as best as he could.  His childlike wonder, when it comes to you, makes you somewhat happy about the fact that he had dropped by unexpectedly.  “Rafe?”  “Uh-huh,” he moans against your skin.  “I, uh… I don't have any condoms here,” you admit, and he rips his head up.  “You what? Why? Why would you say that to me right now? I'm already hard for fuck's sake,” he complains loudly.  “I'm sorry that I'm inconveniencing you there, you ass,” you snap and get up, picking up your bra and dress and leaving for the bathroom.  “Fuck, sugar, just come back,” he pleads, but you don't even think about it and instead strip yourself completely to take a shower. 
“Okay, listen, I can just go down find a store, buy some and get back here. Easy,” Rafe suggests, and you roll your eyes without looking at him.  “Have you considered that I might not give a shit, jerk?”  “Oh yeah? What's your brilliant idea, miss Harvard,” he scoffs.  “How often do you get tested?” you ask and turn your head far enough to be able to see him stand behind you, nothing but tight boxers left on his body.  “Every other month,” he shrugs.  “When was the last time?”  “Week ago.”  “And?”  “Clean. I'm not risking it, with, like, quick hookups and shit.”  “Me neither. But I've never wanted to fuck a guy more than once either,” you say and turn back to the water that's steaming up the tiled room.  “You want me to fuck you raw?” he asks, sounding as if you had just offered him the job of his life.  “Jesus, don't get yourself so hyped already. I'm just saying it's a potential possibility that needs considering.”  “What about-”  “I've had an IUD since I turned 18 and it's never once failed me. I think it's gonna be fine,” you turn around to face him fully; eyes trailing down to the massive bulge in his boxers.  “So, I'm guessing you've never been fucked while looking down onto Central Park?” you ask with a wide smile, and he shakes his head. 
Rafe is back in the chair when you let yourself down on him, feeling every ridge and vein of his huge cock and you both groan at the feeling.  His hand is trailing over your back, drawing lines over it while you let yourself breathe to adjust to him just enough so it doesn't hurt too much.  You turn your head to look at him over your shoulder. “If you wanna tap out, just pinch me. I'm not gonna listen to anything else, I just wanna make that clear.” “Noted,” he grins, and you lean forward in your seat and plant your feet in the ground before starting to bounce on his dick.  “Shit, I missed looking at this ass,” he grunts, and you start bouncing a bit harsher, forcing yourself down on him while moaning loudly. 
“Talk to me,” you beg as you keep fucking yourself with his cock.  “You're a real slut, fucking your professor? I bet it turns you on to know how weak you make them. To know they have no control. Making them your little bitch,” his words are frequently interrupted by heavy pants and your excessive moaning, but he continues anyway. “Not with me. You're mine now. I don't give a shit who you were before. All you are now is my little whore, who lets me fuck her whenever I want. Right?” “Yes, daddy,” you cry out and do your best to keep bouncing on him, your hand finding your clit and toying with it.  “You'll let me fill you up with my cum, like the pretty little cumslut that you are. Isn't that right?” he asks and thrusts up into you, meeting the movement of your hips and making you scream as he defiles your cunt.  “Speak up, sugar,” he demands, pulling on your hair and bending you back.  “Gonna make a mess for you, daddy. Just for you.” The tears are running down your cheeks when your orgasm hits you, and he follows instantly, fucking his seed even deeper into you before letting go of your hair and allowing you to get up. 
“Can you walk?” he asks, and you nod while dragging yourself over to your bed and falling face-first into the fresh linen.  “I thought I was imagining it, that my memory was skewed,” you mumble into the fabric. “But my memory doesn't come even close to this.”  “Could say the same,” he praises you, and you can't help but blush.  “Have you ever tried vanilla sex?” you ask out of pure curiosity, and he shakes his head while walking over.  “Not a big fan of the lovey-dovey bullshit.”  “Same. That's why I prefer reverse cowgirl, less personal, but I'm still in control for the most part,” you say after turning around to lie on your back.  “We, uhm, could just do it. Like a bucket list thing. Just so we know how it is,” he suggests and you laugh. “Yeah sure.”  “I'm serious. I mean, what's the worst that could happen? We fall in love? As if,” he huffs.  “I'll sue you if you do,” you tell him before pulling him into you and somehow crawling backwards onto the bed. He kisses you, and you feel like you're melting into him, into his touch, his being; all of him. 
His swollen tip is nudging at your clit, and you grasp down and put him to your aching hole, pushing him into you just slightly and your eyes already roll back at the feeling. Your senses feel heightened and dull at the same time, as if you are floating while on fire.  “Look at me,” Rafe demands, holding onto your neck and squeezing just enough to make you whimper. You stare into his eyes, the blue is gone, and he starts to smile as he slowly pushes into you. Your eyes widen at the pleasantly painful stretch he's giving your pussy.  And his lips find yours, muffling the moans that threaten to slip out as he pounds into you. But he lets off, kissing your neck, sucking on it and pulling your leg up to get a better angle. 
“I'm gonna cum,” you cry pathetically and he laughs.  “No, you're not. You're mine, baby, don't forget that.”  “Please, Rafe.” You are begging once again, and his attack on your tired cunt is just getting worse with every passing minute. You had never begged for an orgasm before. Never had wanted to. But Rafe's way of fucking you is inherently different to anything you had ever felt before.  “Not gonna happen,” he grins down at you, and you whine, but he keeps you pinned down right where he wants you to be. Your hands are clawing at his back, trying to hold onto him for dear life, to not lose yourself entirely. 
“Tell me,” he slows, and it's pure torture, slowly dragging his big cock half out of you before slamming back in, giving voice to the most obscene squelching sound you'd ever heard your pussy make.  “I'm still not your type, right?” he smirks, and you throw your head to the side just for him to yank it back. “Answer, or you're not gonna cum on this dick ever again.”  “No. Still no,” you pant, and he kisses you again, pulling your hand down and letting you touch yourself.  His lips are moving towards your ear, nibbling at your earlobe. “Make daddy proud and soak his big cock, sugar,” he growls and your back arches up. Legs trembling as the tight band in your core snaps. The orgasm rips through you without any mercy, and you scream his name, actually trying to make him proud and feel worthy of the pleasure his cock’s giving you.  “Good girl,” he praises, brushing over your cheek. You're completely dazed, only paying half as much attention to him as you wanted to while watching his face contort and hips stutter with sloppy thrusts before he's releasing his hot seed into you. 
“In love with me yet?” you joke while lying next to him, and he runs his hands over his short hair.  “Nope,” he shakes his head and purses his lips.  “Good. And if you praise me ever again, I'm gonna kick your ass. Understood?” you sneer while getting up and walking to the bathroom.  “You liked it,” he calls after you with a light laugh swinging in his voice. You know he’s right, but you don't wanna admit it. You don't want to admit to the vulnerability of it all, after having spent years to build yourself up to the person you are now. No longer wasting any more time on what people think of you or giving them any time of day to hurt you. This includes not letting them close to prevent it from ever getting to such a point ever again.  “Just don't fucking say it again,” you tell him as you hear him enter the shower behind you.  “Understood.” 
You shower in silence, each of you on one end of the long shower but the glooming feeling that something has changed won't leave you. Not as you leave the shower to dry off, or as you lay down and try to relax for just a bit before you have to get ready. Not while doing your hair and makeup. Not while putting on your dress or when you call your driver.  And he's not saying a single thing. Rafe stays quiet throughout all of it, which makes you a little pissed at him, but you can't let it show. 
You arrive ahead of time, your parents not yet there when the hostess shows you to your table, and you order an extra dry martini.  The stark difference in your behavior towards each other outside and inside the bedroom is starting to annoy you. You miss how easy-going he had been that first day you met him. How charming and funny and most of all flirtatious he had acted.  “Tomorrow morning, you're gonna fly home and then I only wanna see you when there's something with the business,” you tell him, trying to get the upper hand in a situation that you had never intended to be in.  “Understood,” he mutters as you both stand up to greet your parents, who are walking over. 
The dinner is dry, and you can't wait to finally get home and just sleep. Your mom keeps making indecent jokes and comments towards Rafe, but he just laughs or smirks. And when he's not eating, he has one hand on his whiskey and the other on your thigh, slowly creeping up and making it harder for you to concentrate on what your father is telling you about.  “It's a difficult task, but we'll manage,” you say to your dad before jumping up. “Excuse me for a moment.”  You make a beeline to the restroom, trying to cool off and maybe get your act together. But Rafe won't let you. As soon as you step out of the restroom he yanks you with him to a dark corner of the hallway. 
“What are you doing?” you hiss at him, and he pushes you against the wall, caging you in.  “Why are you letting him walk all over you?” Rafe questions, his hand is trailing under the skirt of your dress; fingertips caressing the soft flesh of your thighs.  “He's my boss,” you reply.  “What else?” he taunts, his fingers are pressed against your clit now, making you gulp and bite your lip to not let out a whimper.  “My dad,” you whisper, searching his eyes for approval, but instead he slaps your wet pussy and you squirm.  “You're pathetic, you know that?” he laughs quietly, and you nod, just to please him.  “Rafe, please, just-” you claw at his wrist, but he grabs your cunt even harsher.  “You don't get to pick and choose whenever you like, sugar. You don't want me to be nice, so I'm not. But then all of a sudden, you don't want me to be mean either. Now which is it? One final answer,” he demands, and you let go of him, your hand falling to your side as you admit defeat.  “Good choice,” he growls, pulls your slip to the side and pushes two fingers into your seeping cunt while his free hand is on your mouth, muffling your quiet moans. 
His long fingers are curled up inside you, fucking you with no mercy or thought that someone might walk by and see. But you don't care because he's making you feel whole, whispering a plethora of disgustingly dirty shit into your ear, and always changing his technique when he feels you get closer to your release.  “Tell me who you belong to, sugar,” he rasps and you whimper silently. “I'm yours, daddy. All yours.”  “Good,” he seems pleased with himself, and you feel a sigh of relief coming as you're growing closer and closer to your orgasm. But right before you can let go, he pulls away. 
“Rafe, no- What are you doing?” You claw at his chest as he steps back and licks his fingers clean of your arousal.  “You don't get to use me and throw me away like a piece of trash. Remember who's got the upper hand here, y/n.” Then he lightly slaps your cheek two times before walking back to the table, leaving you to deal with the consequences of your actions. 
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please don't copy and/or post my work onto other platforms! ~e©ho
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part 3
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spidybaby · 11 months
Text
Begin Again | Part Three
Summary: Back to the start to fix the broken pieces just to find that you can get what you always dreamed.
Warnings: cursing
A/N: Hello! I want to apologize for the waiting. Most of that was because I got sick (I still am), but here it is. Hope you like it. Love you all 💛✨️
Part one | Part two
April 2027
The moving went smoothly, Elena and Paulo helped you with everything. Your parents didn't like the idea, but you shut them down.
You weren't supposed to start till the end of April, giving you enough time to mind a plan to fix everything.
You saw online that Pedro was on Manchester. Apparently, Manchester City wanted to buy him.
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"No sobre pienses tanto lo que haces, estas haciendo lo mejor para ti." (Don't overthink your decision. You're doing what's best for you)
Elena was the voice of reason in this situation.
"No sé ni donde empezar." (I don't even know where to start)
"Escuchame, eres una de las personas más inteligentes que conozco, venga tía, tu puedes con esto, es normal no saber ni donde empezar, pero estoy aquí para ti, para ayudarte en todo." (Listen to me, you're one of the smartest people I've ever known, c'mon dude, you can do it, it's okay not knowing where to start, but I'm here for you to help you with everything)
You hug her, crying a little, she makes you feel less alone.
Your mother stopped talking to you once she found out about the moving, telling you how much of a mistake you were making.
Your dad was siding with her, even when he didn't say you were making a mistake, he did tell you it was a bad decision.
But you didn't care, you pack your stuff and moved back to Barcelona. You even unblock his family from social media and didn't follow them, but unblock them was a start.
"Vamos por un helado." Elena says, drying your tears, "polito, amor mio, vamos!" (Let's go get some ice cream, Polito, my love, let's go)
She was carrying the diaper bag and your son, to say he even had a matching outfit with her.
"Oye, vamos a la playa, quiero una foto con mi bebé. Polito, te pondré tu chamarra de osito." (Let's go to the beach, I want a photo with my baby, Polito, let me put you your bear sweater)
"Tu bebé?" You laugh helping her with the sweater. "Amorcito, tienes nueva mami." (Your baby? Baby, you have a new mommy)
She laughed and made her way to the front door, grabbing your purse on the way out and your phone. You followed her.
"Crees que Pedro haría algo para quedarse con Polo?" You ask once you got to the beach. Your mom words did have an impact, even if you knew he wouldn't. "Yo sé que no, pero me da miedo." (Do you think Pedro would do anything to take Polo away? I know he wouldn't, but I'm scared)
"Y/n, claro que no, por favor saca esas ideas de tu mente, Pedro y tu tuvieron algo tan especial, él jamás haría nada para lastimarte." (Y/n, of course not, please take that idea out of your mind. Pedro and you had something so special, I know he won't do anything to hurt you)
You only nodded, not wanting to overthink those words.
"Mis padres me odian." (My parents hate me)
"No creo, solo están preocupados." (I don't think so, they're just worried)
But worried about what?
"Venga, Dame a mi hijo, vamos a tomarnos fotos." Elena says, throwing the empty ice cream cup in the trash can near you. (Give me my son, let's take some pictures)
"Lo bueno es que tu lo pariste, vieja tonta." (The good thing us that you birth him, dumbass)
Elena dances a little with him, singing a Quevedo song. The song makes you remember Pedro, he loves Quevedo music.
You take the pictures of Polo and Elena and she then takes some of you and him.
"Ay déjame subir esta." (Oh let me post this one)
You see the picture, it was cute.
"Dale."
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"La verdad la oferta esta muy buena, para mi que la tomes." Mario, who is Pedro's manager says, "O es que aún piensas en quedarte en el barça?" (I think the offer is really good, I think you should take it. Or are you still thinking about staying?)
Pedro was lost in his thoughts, Manchester was offering him 150 million euros, with full on benefits and even to keep the number 8.
But on the other side, Barça was the club of his life. He couldn't imagine playing for other club.
He played for another season, but due to a mistake in his contract, he could leave for free this summer.
"Creo que debo pensarlo, hablarlo bien con mis padres." (I have to think about it, talk with my parents)
His manager agreed and changed the subject. He was invited to a club, but he rejected it. Fer was not I the mood, and without him, he was not going.
"Vamos de regreso al hotel." (Let's go back to the hotel)
After the arrival, he and his manager went to their rooms. He was sharing one with Fernando.
"Cómo te fue chaval?" (How was it?)
"Mmm. Estuvo bien, es un puto dolor de cabeza pensar en esto, no sé ni que hacer." (It was good, but it's a fucking headache thinking about all of this, I don't even know what to do)
"Venga, vamos al bar del hotel, tomamos algo y hablamos, no te estreses Pedro" (Let's go to the bar of the hotel, let's have some drinks and a talk. Don't stress)
They both made their way to the bar, Fernando was telling him about a gift he bought for his girlfriend.
"Mira que linda foto," Fer says, showing him the picture Elena posts about a baby with a bear sweater. "Quiero un sobrino para vestirlo así." (Look at this beautiful picture, I want a nephew to dress him like that)
Fernando looks at him with funny eyes, Pedro only laughs, "eres un gilipollas, tu deberías darme un sobrino" (you're an asshole, you're supposed to give me a nephew.)
They laughed and forgot about the picture. Asking for drinks and some food to begin the night.
"Alguna vez has pensado en cómo serias cómo padre?" (Have you ever thought about you as a father?) Fernando asks.
That puts him in deep thoughts. He did think about it, even dream with it.
The little baby in your arms with the barça shirt, his number on the back of both yours and the baby's shirt.
"La verdad?" (You want the truth?)
"Macho, no como crees? Dime mentiras." Fer says as he hits him on the back of the head. "Pues claro tonto, por algo pregunté." (Man, not at all, tell me lies. Well, obviously, I want the truth, I asked for a reason.)
"Venga ya que la colleja no era necesaria." He laughs. "Siempre lo imaginé, usualmente era algo que hablamos y/n y yo, ella quería un niño, y hombre no te miento, yo también quería uno, pero luego miraba a nuestro primo con su hija y pensaba en una niña." He says, remembering all the late night talks you two had. (The hit on the head was not necessary, I've always pictured it. It was something y/n and I always talked about. She wants a boy and man, I do want a son too, but after seeing our cousins with his girl, I thought about having a girl)
Fernando looks at the way he talks about it, the shine of his eyes, he haven't seen that shine in months.
"Puedo preguntarte algo, pero no te enojas?" (Can I ask you something without you getting mad?)
"Mhm?"
"Por qué la dejaste ir?" (Why did you let her go?)
Pedro takes his eyes away from his brother. That question was one he asked himself every night since that December night.
"Recuerdas el anillo?" He asks, Fernando nods. "Yo sabía que ella quería que su padre estuviera de acuerdo con el matrimonio, la bendición, así que fui a pedirla, yo quería casarme con ella." (Remember the ring? I knew she wanted his father to be okay with the marriage, the blessing. So I went to ask for it, I wanted yo marry her)
"Pero?" (But?)
"Pero su padre me dijo que no podía darmela, que yo era un chaval con una vida muy distinta a la que el soñaba para el esposo de su hija. Me dijo que pensaba que ella algún día iba a darse cuenta y dejarme, como no lo hizo, solo esperó. Me pidió dejarla, diciendo que ella no quería irse de Barcelona por mi, porque no quería dejarme, diciéndome que sus sueños iban a ser siempre interrumpidos por mi, por mi carrera y me pidió dejarla ir, dejarla emprender su propio camino, brillar por si sola." He says angrily, remembering the words of your father. (But her father couldn't give it to me, I was a kid with a totally different life from the one he pictured his son in law would have. He told me he hoped for her to realize that and left me, but she never did, so he waited. He asked me to leave her, but she didn't want to leave Barcelona because of me, telling me her dreams were going to be interrupted by me because of my career. So he asked me to let her go, for her to shine on her own, to begin her own path in life)
Fernando was in shock. He always thought it was about a fight, maybe even a bad patch on the relationship. Even his parents told him he was making a mistake, but know it makes sense.
"Pedro. Por qué no me habías contado?" (Pedro, why didn't you tell me?)
He shrugs, not facing him. Drinking way too quickly.
"Pedro, por favor mirame."
He did, after a few minutes.
"Lo siento, por haberte criticado, haberte culpado y juzgado mal. No sabía lo que había pasado, ojalá me hubieras contado, para así apoyarte. Lo siento hermanito." He hugs him, the hug was tight, and Pedro needed that. (I'm sorry. For judging you and for blaming you. I didn't know, and I wish you had told me I would have supported you. I'm sorry, hermanito.
Pedro felt relief. The secret he kept to himself was now free from him.
"Has pensado en hablar con ella?" (Have you thought about reaching her?)
He shake his head no.
"La verdad siento que me odia, la hice mierda, la deje y luego ignore sus llamadas, sus mensajes. Me dolió el alma, Fernando. Pero era lo que yo en ese momento creía correcto. (To be honest, I feel that she hates me, I fuck her up, after I dumped her I ignored her calls and texts, that broke my heart, Fernando. But I thought I was doing the right thing)
"Escuchame, tu hiciste lo que en ese momento creíste correcto, no te culpes más, pero creo que es obvio que no la has superado, aún piensas en ella." Fer says, patting his back. "Venga, déjame ayudarte a recuperarla y si no se puede pues ayudarte a superarlo, juntos en todo, como cuando niños." (Listen to me, you did what you thought was the right thing, don't blame yourself anymore. I think it is pretty obvious that you love her. You still think of her. So, let me help you get her back, and if that's not possible, let me help you move on, but together, like when we were kids)
"Te amo, eres el mejor." (I love you, you're the best)
"Yo te amo más, venga que tenemos que pensar en algo." (I love you more, c'mon, we have to plan how you're getting her back)
Pedro smiled, high five his brother, and begins with the plan for that to happen. Like fer said, together.
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You were at the supermarket, you needed food for your fridge. Elena stayed with Polo. He was fussy, so you let him stay.
You got almost everything on the list. I'm picking a few fruits. Since Polo is now six months old, the doctor told you to start with some fruit based foods.
You grabbed some sweet potato, some bananas, and some avocados. Also some vegetables like broccoli, carrot, and some more.
You were so focused on picking some apples that when someone touched you to grab your attention you kind of jump.
"Ay Dios," you say, putting your hand on your heart, "Pablo?" You ask seeing him smile, trying not to laugh.
"Sigues siendo la misma tía que se asusta de todo al parecer." (You're still the same scary girl I see).
You laugh, hugging him. It's been a long time without seeing him.
"Cuando volviste?" (When did you came back?)
"Hace poco, a finales de marzo." (Not that long ago, end of March.)
"Y estas aquí para quedarte? O solo de visita?" (Are you staying or only for a visit?)
You smile, "Vine para quedarme" (I'm here to stay)
You talked for a while, and you both continued the shopping.
"Y dime, como vas de amores?" (And tell me, how's the love?)
You shrug, not knowing how to answer.
"Pues, sigo soltera. Los Italianos son muy intensos, te juro. Y tu que tal de amores?" (Well, I'm still single, Italian guys are way too much. What about you?)
"Recuerdas a Carolina?" (Do you remember Carolina?)
"La nena del agua?" (The water girl?)
He nodded, excited. "Hace casi un año estamos saliendo, ya no es la del agua, ahora es entrenadora de los niños en el club" (almost a year ago we been dating, and she's not the water girl anymore, she's a coach for the first starters in the club.)
"Eso está increíble, Pablito." (That's amazing, Pablito)
"Haz vuelto a hablar con Pedro?" (Have you talked to Pedro?)
If Pablo was known for something, it was two things, his anger on the pitch and not having a filter when he speaks.
"No, hace mucho que no hablo con él." (No, it's been a long time without talking to him.)
He nodded, understanding.
"Pero, de hecho he querido hablar con él desde que regresé. No sé si quiera hablarme." (But, I've been looking to talk to him since I came back, but I don't know if he would talk to me)
"Pero vamos, claro que quiere" (c'mon, he obviously wants to)
You smile at his words.
"Deja darte el número, tuvo que cambiarlo porque en un entreno le hicimos mierda el movil" (let me give you his number, he had to change it since once during training we fucked his phone)
"No me sorprende, siempre se hacian mierda las cosas ustedes" (I'm not surprised, you guys always fucked your things)
He grabbed your phone, saving Pedro's number.
"Te he guardando el mio igual, por si alguna vez necesitas algo, acá estoy." (I saved mine too. If you ever need anything, I'm here)
You hugged goodbye as you both went different ways.
You hurry to the line, wanting to get home so you can tell Elena the news.
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"Sabes que me encanta de Manchester, el ambiente es diferente a España, no sé cómo describirlo pero es diferente" Fernando says, looking around. (You know what I love about Manchester? The atmosphere is different. I don't know how to explain it, but it's different)
Pedro laughed, agreeing with him. Mario only nodded smiling.
"Bien, entonces dame unos días y te daré la respuesta, si?" (Okay, give me a few days, and I'll have the answer) Pedro says referring to the contract.
"Tomate una semana, meditalo y si tienes dudas podemos hablar, poner un pro y con sobre la mesa." (Take a week, meditate it, and if you have any doubts, call me up, and we can put all the pros and cons at the table to make up your mind)
After that, they changed the topic, talking about a game they were invited to, Fer and Mario were talking about one specific player and how he got a yellow card for something that was a clearly a red.
Pedro's mind was far away from that, seeing the text he got from Pablo.
She was back, and she wanted to talk with him.
He was out of breath, wanted to tell Fernando right away, but he knew better and wait for the night to be over.
As they entered the room, he grabbed his brother's shoulders, shaking him while screaming in happiness.
"Me vas a descalabrar capullo." (You're going to hurt me, idiot)
"Mira," he shows the text message.
Fernando is now screaming with him, happy for the news.
"A ver, calma ya" (okay, let's calm down), Fernando says, taking a few breaths. "Si te quiere ver y Pablo le dio tu número, ella te va a escribir, es obvio." (If she wants to see you and Pablo gave her your number, she'll text you, it's obvious)
And as Fer finished saying that, Pedro's phone lights up with a text from an unknown number.
Pedro checks it and screams, showing it to his brother, who screams with him.
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(Hi,
I hope you're doing great. I'm sending you this message to let you know I'm in Barcelona and I'll like to meet up with you to talk.
-Y/n)
"Qué contesto?" Pedro says, full of nerves. (What can I text back?)
"Trae pa ca', tonto," he says, taking the phone from his brothers hand. (Give me that, morron)
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(Hi
I like to see you, we can meet wherever, maybe somewhere more calm to avoid paparazzi)
Back in Barcelona, you and Elena are sitting in your couch, face to face.
"Ya contestó," you say excited. (He answered)
"A ver," Elena says, taking the phone from you. "Contesta" (let me see, answer him).
"No sé que poner," you say nervios. (I don't know how to answer)
"Ay, dame aquí, tonta" (give me that, idiot)
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("Do you still living I'm the same place." "Yes, do you remember the address, or do you need the location?")
"Crees que recuerde?" Pedro asks, seeing the answer his brother sends. (Do you think she remembers?)
"Callate, déjame ver que responde," Fer says, seeing the three dots. (Shut up, let me answer)
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("No, I do remember, what about tomorrow morning?" "I'll be back from Manchester tomorrow at noon. Let's meet at night, if that's okay with you.")
"Cierto que vi que estaba en Manchester," you say as you read the text, "Dile que si" (it's true, he's in Manchester, say yes)
"Calmate," Elena says. (Calm down)
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("I'll see you tomorrow at night" "7 pm?" "Yes, " "I'll see you tomorrow. " "Goodbye, Pedro.")
Pedro and Fernando were looking at the last text.
"Niño" Fernando says, screaming and hugging his brother.
Pedro is excited. He was getting you back. No matter how hard, how much he has to fight or work, he's getting you back. He's putting that ring on your finger. He's getting that dream family.
What he didn't know is that on Barcelona, Elena, and you are jumping and screaming on the couch.
"Dios, estoy tan nerviosa." You say as you calm down. "Necesito que me lleves, por favor." (Gosh, I'm so excited. Please, I need you to take me)
"Obvio, tonta." (Obviously, dummy)
You both look and start screaming again, until a cry make you stop.
"Oops," Elena says.
You laugh and go to collect your baby. He was crying due to your screaming, mad because his dreams were interrupted.
"Ya, ya mi amor, ven acá." You say picking him up, calming him. "No sabes, tu papi y yo nos vamos a ver." You say as he calms down. "Y estoy nerviosa, espero mañana puedas conocerlo." (It's okay, love, come here. You have no idea. Daddy and I are meeting up, I'm nervous, and I hope you both can meet up tomorrow)
You kiss him. Taking him with you back to the living room.
"Vente." You say to Elena, "ayúdame a escoger el outfit." (Come, help me pick my outfit)
You feel like a teenager getting ready for her first date.
The butterflies, the nervousness in your system, and the excitement.
Tomorrow, you're getting that family you both dreamed about.
Tag list:
@alwaysclassyeagle @footballerficsposts @gulphulp @cinderellawithashoe @jajajhaahaha @bellinghambby22 @pablogavisgirl @lunamelona @christinabae @fadinglovermuffintaco 💛✨️
466 notes · View notes
wooyoong · 11 months
Text
🌼 freya's recent svt reads (& recs)
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disclaimer : these are my RECENT reads, and i haven't added some of my old reads! also i have tried to add atleast one for each member to the list hehe (except jihoon he has two)
note : fic titles labelled with a * mark are series. minors please stay away, strictly. almost all fics here are 18+ !!
— also, i am @angelwoozi 😭 incase you wanted to check out my writing blog then.
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CHOI SEUNGCHEOL
* yours, but not yours by @gyukult (fake dating au, 18+)
when a nice guy gets too overbearing, you’re stuck with the option of having a fake boyfriend.
YOON JEONGHAN
Jeonghan's Guide to Insurance Fraud (And Falling In Love) by @starsstuddedsky (f2l, fake dating au)
your best friend offers a way for you to get your wisdom teeth removed without going into debt. the only catch? you can’t fall in love
HONG JISOO
Plush by @bitchlessdino (est relationship, 18+)
soft joshua cockwarming drabble, with love and yearning.
WEN JUNHUI
Love, Actually by @haet-sal (single dad, boss jun, kind of infidelity au, 18+)
You’re the wide-eyed, clueless-but-on-top secretary to Wen Junhui, and it all starts, with one new year’s kiss… well, new year’s fuck.
Mr. Wen likes you. It should have been obvious, whenever he seemed to forgive your inadequate work ethics and frequent unfailing mishaps, and how much he trusted you, no matter how many mistakes you made, how much he hated hearing about your life with your boyfriend… and what kind of boss goes shopping for their employee, privately, anyway?
KWON SOONYOUNG
i don't understand but i love you by @hvcmixtape (est relationship)
soonyoung has only been the kindest and most gentle husband. sometimes you feel like you're floating on the stars, and sometimes you feel like you've just jumped into the most romantic book.
JEON WONWOO
rich girl by @blushnote (rich girl x street punk wonwoo, 18+)
wonwoo likes to call you a rich girl, and you hate it because it’s true. in fact, you hate a lot of things: your friends, your parent’s attitude, the way your life is supposed to be perfect even though you’re miserable. not much makes you happy, except for a punk boy who you can’t even be with.
LEE JIHOON
You Make Me Breathe by @hwanghyunjinenthusiast (hanahaki au)
Jihoon is utterly in love with you. Too bad you're into his friend Soonyoung, and he's too much of a coward to ever tell you how he feels. He's happy to take his feelings to the grave but soon finds that his body doesn't agree with his decision.
* As a Matter of Fact by @starsstuddedsky (co-workers to lovers, fake dating au)
when you're caught in a simple lie, the best solution? dig in your heels and stick to your guns until everything inevitably goes wrong and everyone gets hurt
LEE SEOKMIN
(Not) A Gentleman by @wonusite (est relationship, 18+)
Your boyfriend is the sweetest man alive—a perfect gentleman. However, you’re determined to show him that he doesn’t always have to be a gentleman.
KIM MINGYU
Good Dad, Better Daddy by @bitchlessdino (dilf au, bestfriend's dad mingyu, 18+)
you were hesitant when your friend said you should just stay at her house for the summer, especially knowing you can barely contain yourself with her hot dad around as well as the thought of not getting caught.
XU MINGHAO
at dawn by @sluttyminghao (domestic au, est relationship, 18+)
domestic sex with boyfriend minghao!
BOO SEUNGKWAN
pussy sport by @duhnova (fwb au, 18+)
leave it up to boo seungkwan to almost suffocate between your thighs, eat you out till you’re crying, and to figure out a new kink of his.
CHWE HANSOL
You Get Me So High by @cheolhub (f2l, 18+)
smoking with your best friend (who you totally don’t have a crush on) is super fun till all you can think about is him… well, doing him, to be more specific.
LEE CHAN
promise ring by @lovelyhan (royalty au, f2l, 18+)
no one would've guessed that the daughter of the town’s royal mage has a soft spot for the clumsiest fire elemental in the entire realm. but when the crown prince suddenly asks for your hand in marriage, you're forced to consider how you feel about a certain lee jung chan a lot more seriously.
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🌼 show love to all the authors, and don't misuse their content. all rights reserved by the respective authors!
747 notes · View notes
katsu28 · 6 months
Note
☕️ bradley ‘rooster’ bradshaw and "you know we need to talk." "about?" "i don't know...last night, maybe?"
bradley "rooster" bradshaw x mitchell!reader, mentions of vomiting, mentions of pregnancy, 1.9k
You shouldn’t have been here at Rooster’s place at this time of night. You should’ve been asleep, in bed, but instead you were here, knocking on his door in the middle of the night, all because you’d just discovered something not even two hours ago that would change the trajectory of not only your life, but probably Rooster’s too. 
It took a while, but he finally pulled open the door after your incessant knocking, rubbing his eye furiously as he peered out at who the hell was knocking on his door at three in the morning.
His hair was a riot, brown curls sticking out every which way, eyes bleary. He’d been asleep—of course he was. Anyone in their right mind would be. Except you weren’t really in your right mind right now. You were damn near close to losing it, trying your hardest not to spiral. 
“Y/N? What are you—why are you awake? What’re you doing here?” He yawned, scratching his chest groggily. When you didn’t answer, just stared at him like something was wrong, he gave his head a quick shake to wake himself up a bit. “Are you okay? What—come in, come inside, please.” 
You obliged, stepping past him and over the threshold into his apartment wordlessly. 
“Can I make you some coffee—no, coffee would probably be bad right now. Tea? Water?” He offered, gesturing you towards the kitchen. You settled at one of the barstools in front of the counter, leaning on your elbows, folding your hands. “Not really sure what this situation calls for. Seriously, are you okay? You look…not okay.” 
“I’m pregnant.” You blurted. Well, there went easing into the conversation. Bradley’s eyebrows flew sky high. But wait, there was more! “And I’m pretty sure you’re the father.” 
He blinked at you owlishly, utterly and completely dumbfounded. “Pretty sure? How sure is pretty sure?” 
“Entirely sure, actually. You’re the only guy I’ve been with in a really long time, so either it was a ghost, or it was you.” 
That was something you’d been wracking your brain for since the second you saw the three lines on the test. One night, four or five weeks ago, after some sort of celebration at the Hard Deck that you couldn’t even remember now. 
You remembered leaving the bar with Rooster, taking him home with you, kissing him a lot. It was entirely consensual, that much you could recall. But anything after that up until when you’d first started to feel icky was a blank.
You honestly didn’t even consider the possibility that you were in fact pregnant until your friend suggested it yesterday. Which is why you took the test. Never did you once think it would turn out positive.
It wasn’t that you didn’t think Rooster would be a good father. In fact, out of everyone you’d hooked up with over the years, he was probably the best option. Not that you really had any option, at this point. It was simple, plain as day. You were pregnant, and Rooster was the father. 
Rooster made a face. “Okay, gross. But you took a test? And it was positive?” 
“No, it came to me in a dream.” You snapped, glaring at him. “Yes, I took a test! I took three—all positive!” 
“Alright! Okay, that’s—wow, okay. That’s definitely…something to take in.” 
“I don’t know what to do.” You said quietly, staring hard at the marble countertop.
“Look, it’s late, we’re both tired. We don’t have to do anything right now, we don’t need to make any decisions right now. We have time.” He replied, shaking his head. We. He kept saying we, like he was planning on sticking around. You weren’t sure how to feel about it. “Why don’t you stay the night here and we can talk about this more in the morning?” 
You shook your head quickly. “No, I can’t, I have to be home to set up for the party—oh my god, the party! My dad.” 
“Your dad? What—Y/N, I’m pretty sure he’ll understand. Mav’s more modern than you give him credit for.” 
“Understand? Understand what?” You asked incredulously. Then you got what he was trying to say, and you let out a humorless laugh. “Rooster, we’re not telling him. We can’t tell him!” 
Your dad’s birthday party was tomorrow, and there were so many things you had to set up and do, this was probably the worst time for you to deal with everything going on right now. It wasn’t every day Pete “Maverick” Mitchell turned sixty. You needed everything to be perfect, and this brand new unexpected news was definitely not that. 
Rooster could tell you were starting to panic a little from the weight of everything, so he just went along with what you said, reaching over the counter to cover your hand with his. “Everything is gonna be fine, okay? Just get some rest. Please. Tomorrow’s gonna be a busy day, and you need to sleep.” 
You nodded distractedly, barely registering him guiding you towards the guest bedroom and settling you into bed. And maybe you were more tired than you thought, because your eyes fell shut on their own accord, and you were out like a light before Rooster even had the chance to close the door behind him. 
-------
The party was going great so far. There was food, music, all your dad’s Navy buddies. Everything was running smoothly, and you definitely weren’t thinking about your conversation with Rooster last night, or the fact that you left his house before the sun even rose to avoid talking about the situation even more. 
That was a lie. You couldn’t stop thinking of it, even as you smiled at every one of your dad’s friends jostling him about how old he’d gotten to be completely unaware of the surprise party his daughter planned for him. 
With every conversation about what you’d been up to in life lately, you thought about Rooster. The look on his face when you broke the news to him. The way he must’ve felt when he woke up and you were gone. He was probably mad at you, and you honestly couldn’t blame him. 
Like he knew it was him on your mind, Rooster materialized next to you, busying himself with browsing the drinks in the cooler to make it look like everything was normal. “Y/N.” 
“Enjoying the party?” You asked casually, crossing your arms over your chest. Rooster scoffed softly. 
“You know we need to talk.” 
Your smile wavered for a split second before returning in full force. You glanced over at him briefly, flicking from his very serious face then back to the party. “About?” 
“I don’t know…last night, maybe? You left before I woke up.”  
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 
“Bullshit.” 
“Nothing happened last night, Rooster.” 
“So you’re telling me you’re not pregnant right now.” 
“Keep your voice down.” You hissed. Rooster shot a pointed look at you and you caved, grabbing him by the arm and yanking him towards a more secluded area of the backyard. “You wanna talk? Fine. Talk.” 
“You said the baby was mine. That’s not just something I can forget, Y/N.” 
“And I’m not asking you to forget, I’m asking you to leave it alone for now. It’s my dad’s birthday, Bradshaw. Can’t we just let him have the day before we blow up his entire world?” 
“Okay. Yeah, that’s fine. Dropping it for now.” Rooster conceded, holding his hands up in surrender. In reality, all he wanted to do was figure things out, but he could admit that this wasn’t quite the best place nor time to do it. “What can I do to help you right now?” 
“I think I’m gonna be sick.” 
“Whoa, hey, I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to stress you out any more, I just—” 
“No, Rooster, I’m—” You felt the bile rising in your throat alarmingly quick, and before you could even your sentence, you scrambled for the nearest bush to throw up. 
“Oh shit!” Rooster lunged forward, gathering your hair out of your face back towards the nape of your neck as you let it all out. You felt the warmth of his hand on your back, rubbing smooth circles along your spine. 
“Fuck.” You groaned, bracing your hands on your knees. “Please tell me no one saw that.” 
“Uh…” Rooster’s voice was hesitant and you turned your head, only to be met with the one person you didn’t want seeing you like this. Just your luck that even up there in age, that Navy instilled situational awareness never faded. 
“Honey? You alright?” Your dad looked beyond worried, and before you knew it, you were sat down on the living room couch with your father fussing over you, fluffing your pillows, covering you with a blanket, the works. Rooster was hovering over in the corner. 
“Dad, I’m fine! I probably had some bad oysters or something at girls’ night yesterday.” You sighed, ducking away from his attempt at feeling your forehead. As much as you didn’t enjoy lying straight to his face, telling him it was most likely a pregnancy symptom was definitely out of the question. “Go back, enjoy your party, please.”
“I should really stay, what if—” 
“I’m in good hands, Dad. Rooster’s got me covered.” 
“I’ll take the best care of her, Mav, don’t you worry.” 
“No doubt in my mind you will.” He clapped Rooster on the shoulder, giving him a sharp nod. He turned to you. “Drink something. Eat something. I’ll check back in later. Love you, sweetheart.” 
“Love you too, Dad.”
After waving everybody back to the festivities with assurances that you just needed to lay down for a bit and would be just fine, Rooster reappeared in the doorway a little while later, this time bearing gifts. 
“Crackers and ginger ale. Eat them, they’ll help.” He insisted, letting you take the plastic cup from him. “Stole them from the cooler and snack table. Who knew an old man’s birthday party would have just what I was looking for?” 
You managed a meager smile, but when you took a tiny sip of the soda, you found that it actually did help a bit. “How’d you know what I needed?” 
Rooster rubbed the back of his neck, pressing his lips together with a haphazard shrug. “My mom. When she got sick, they always seemed to help with the nausea. Made sure we were always stocked and ready for whenever she needed it.” 
“I wanna keep the baby, Rooster.” You blurted. Rooster nearly choked on his own saliva in surprise. 
“You—you do?” 
“And I want you to be there every step of the way.” You continued, fidgeting with the stray thread at the edge of your blanket. He took a seat next to you on the couch, rubbing his hands over his legs nervously. “Only if that’s what you want, though. I’m not trying to force your hand or baby trap or anything like that. It’s your choice, completely. But…I’d like it if our kid knew their father. In whatever capacity you’re comfortable with.” 
“So, like co-parents? Or…more?” Rooster said slowly, gauging your reaction with wide, almost nervous eyes. 
“I’m open to more.” You replied. Maybe you were reading too much into it, but he seemed to look very pleased with that. “I don’t know what this is gonna be like, for either of us, but I like to think we’ll get through it all. Together.”
He nodded, sliding his hand into yours and squeezing. “Together.”  What that together entailed, you weren’t all too sure. And although you were nervous as hell about what laid ahead, you were looking forward to finding out.
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averyangrypossum · 2 months
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Ladies and gentlemen, may I introduce the
Flowerbroadcast AU!
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Based on the two drawings I did of a fankid for the ship radiostatic.
The full-body one
And the one with both Vox and her
And now, I’m gonna tell you all about it and exactly who the fuck this little kid is.
Lotus is the daughter of Vox (as you can tell) and Alastor and is six years old. She was created shortly after Vox and Al broke up, oh yeah I should probably talk about their relationship status. Vox and Alastor, unlike in canon, weren’t only close friends but were dating at some point, mostly because Alastor wanted to manipulate Vox’s feelings to where he’d be more compilable but accidentally took it too far, and since Vox is a piss baby Alastor decided to entertain Vox for a while.
Was this relationship healthy?
NO!
Would Vox say these were the best years of his afterlife?
Yeah.
But anyways, in this au when Vox asks Alastor to “join his team” he was actually proposing and Alastor finally realized,
“Shit maybe this has gone out of hand” and breaks it off with Vox which leaves Vox heartbroken and with an incel breakdown. Now instead of trying to move the fuck on, he has our little darling Lotus, who he has trying to fill the hole that Alastor left.
So obviously having a child for that reason isn’t going to make you a good parent.
Lotus’ relationship with the Vees are as follows in the particular order.
1 Velvette: She does Lotus’s hair everyday and picks out outfits for her to post on her social media before Lotus immediately undos everything that Velvette does and just goes for pigtails and her nightgown. Velvette has wine aunt energy and is probably the only one of the Vees to know how to talk and get through to Lotus.
2 Valentino: Surprising I know, but Lotus doesn’t know what he does to his workers, she knows what he does for work but grew up with thinking that was just something normal since Valentino was never hush hush about his job around her much to Vox’s dismay. Valentino isn’t a big fan of children and doesn’t hang around her often, but sometimes he’ll draw along side her while bitching about a particular show she’s watching even though it’s literally made for kids.
3 Vox: Wow, how bad do you have to fuck up for a pimp who hardly spends time with her to be ranked higher than her own father?? Vox, despite making the conscious decision to have her, he isn’t around like at all. Hes a workaholic through and through, and mostly leaves her with nannies and Velvette. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t love her. Au contraire he loves her with all his heart and soul. Will give her anything except quality time. He uses her more of an accessory than a child.
Now how exactly Lotus was made is up to you.
A robotic creation Vox made? Sure!
Some voodoo magic shit? Yeah!
Some weird magic thing where she kinda just poofed into existence? Why not!
Mpreg? I mean, do what you wanna do ig?
Cuz it really doesn’t matter!
This whole au starts with Lotus running away from the Vee tower to explore hell since she's basically Rapunzel. She gets lost and terrorized by sinners until our deer Alastor rescues her. Seeing his chance to promote the hotel he takes her there where she is offered to stay there by Charlie when Lotus complains about how bad her dad is. She graciously accepts because shes only six but is going through her “My dad hates me and I hate him” era. Which I mean…I would get that impression too if I didn’t see my dad that much.
Wait my dad lives across the country…don't talk to me rn I’m busy dyeing my hair black and becoming emo 🖤
But anyways she stays there while Vox is loosing his fucking mind, and becoming more mentally unstable.
Meanwhile! She's having the time of her life with the hotel's residents and a new father figure who treats her well and pays attention to her! Alastor! Now Al doesn’t know she is his kid, but that doesn't stop him from being a better dad than Vox out of spite!
Anyways, thats all I have, for now! Stay tuned my friends~
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luveline · 11 months
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maybeee if you’re feeling like it, eddie and r disagree over some parenting decision for roan and r doesn’t really wanna overstep but it’s something she feels passionate about
thank you for your request my love! dad!eddie x (nearly) stepmom!reader — tw mentioned child abuse (NOT graphic imagery, not enacted, just mentioned)
You don't think Eddie's mad at you, which is good. He hadn't said anything he couldn't take back, things you'd worried he might; I'm her dad, (with an unspoken not you) is the most passionate thing he'd said. It hurt some, but it's irrefutable. He's her father, her primary caregiver, and he makes decisions when it comes down to it. 
He didn't say and you're not her mom, but it had felt implied. Just a bit. 
Loving her like your own, it's natural to want the best for her. Natural to have opinions on how she's taken care of and the things that she should do. Things got heated too quickly, that's all. Or, that's what you're hoping happened. 
Stacy K's mom said hey, would it be alright for Stacy to invite Roan to a slumber party? She wants one for her birthday, and she wants Roan there most of all. 
And you'd been surprised at Eddie's immediate agreement. Sure, Roan would love to come.
He picked Roan up and you parted ways with Stacy K and her mom, and you were quiet, unlike yourself, stomach churning because you knew you'd have to speak up, which you hardly ever do. Hey, Eddie?
He noticed your strange expression. What?
Is that a good idea? … Stacy's slumber party? 
Why wouldn't it be? 
It devolved from there. You tripped over your words, trying your hardest not to start a fight with Roan in the car, and Eddie took it the wrong way —or maybe he didn't, maybe he took it the right way, and you'd made a mistake. Your concerns had come across as doubtful of his ability to look after Roan. It makes sense that he took offence. 
You shouldn't, but you worry for a second that this will be the end, that Eddie can't abide by what you've said, and he's going to pack up and leave. You know he won't do anything of the sort, he's loyal and caring to a fault. He wouldn't hurt you so badly over one fight. He's making you nervous is all, sitting next to you quietly. It's not the cold shoulder, that’s never been his style. It's just… quiet. 
"Do you want something, sweet thing?" he asks as he gets up from the couch. "I'm gonna make Roan ants on a log." 
"It's been a really long time since you called me sweet thing," you say, sending him a tentative smile.
"You're sweet, you're my thing…" He licks his lips. "Not my best." 
You uncross your legs, reaching out for him before he can leave to the kitchen. "Listen, I'm– I'm sorry that I made you feel like you're doing something wrong. Sorry I overstepped." 
Eddie sits back down slowly. He swallows. "I'm sorry I shut you down. I guess I was offended." Eddie shuffles a little closer to you. "I mean, I was offended. But," —he speaks as though he's piecing his sentence together with the utmost of care— "you're Roan's mom." And he takes your hand. "You have been for a long time. I'm sorry I made it sound like you overstepped. You can't overstep. How can I be mad at you for one aspect of being a parent, when I'm happy for you to do the others? But I need you to understand that I've been doing all of the big stuff by myself the whole time, until we met I was doing everything by myself, and it annoyed me that you might think I didn't know best… 'n' that's not fair on you, 'cos I don't always know best." 
You aren't expecting it. His explanation or his easy apology. 
You look down at his hand over yours and breathe a sigh of relief. 
"I think…" You pause. When you speak, it's stilted. "Okay. I think it's a bad idea for her to go sleep over at Stacy's house when she doesn't have the words to tell us if something happens." 
Eddie's lips part. 
"That's what I wanted to say, before, not just that she's so young. And I actually do think you know best, Eds. You're a good dad. A fucking good dad."
You can see him thinking about what you've suggested. He rubs your knuckles. 
"She is a little young," he concedes. "She might not even want to stay the night when she realises what that means. But we could teach her if she does, she knows that people aren't allowed to touch her without her say so." 
"I know," you say. You're about to say more when Roan herself steps into the living room, walking at an unbothered pace. Her hair is dishevelled but besides that she's in clean jammies and clearly quite content.
"Hello," she says, a piece of paper in her hands. "I thought we were having ants on logs?" 
"Yeah, babe, I'm gonna make them right now. What have you been drawing?" 
She shows you the drawing. It's the three of you as most of her drawings are, with antennas and carapace bodies. It's gnarly. Eddie loves it the second he sees it, and he insists on putting it onto your already stacked fridge. 
She basks in the feeling of being loved and revered, and then basks again when Eddie gives her a plate full of ants on a log, chewing with a massive grin. 
"I really meant what I said," he murmurs to you, you and him hip hip by the kitchen sink. 
"Which part, handsome?" you ask. 
"She calls you mom. You’re her mom. You don't have to be sorry for having something to say to me.
You look him up and down without malice. He looks incredibly earnest, a little sheepish. His cheek is soft when you lift your hand to it, and he's eager to lean into your palm. "It wasn't about that," you say softly, hushed so Roan doesn't hear. "I promise it wasn't." 
"I know. I just hate that it's what I made you think." 
"So we're okay?" 
"We were always going to be okay, what did you think?" he asks, hand on your hip and pulling you stomach to stomach and chest to chest.
"Just worried."
He looks over your shoulder at Roan. You turn with him. She's kissing peanut butter off of the tips of her fingers with a delighted smile and air about her. 
"Talk about it more tonight?" he asks. 
His promises are always good. You talk about Roan's potential slumber party in bed that night after she's been tucked in, and you both say more sorries for your misunderstandings. It's weird to argue with him, but you're thankful it was about something that mattered, even if that something is scary to think of. 
"Thanks for thinking I'm a good dad," he says, cheek turned into the pillow, the tip of his index finger tracing lightly over your face in no one direction. 
"That's not something you have to say thanks for." You're in much better spirits now, speaking with confidence. 
"You're the one person who would know," he says. 
"That's not true. People only have to talk to Roan to know how good you are." 
He laughs a huff that kisses your skin like a warm breeze. "Did you really think we wouldn't be okay?" 
You laugh nervously. "I mean, no. It went through my head, but I didn't actually think it was the end, babe. I'm not that stupid." 
"You're not any amount of stupid, stupid." 
You laugh in his face. He puts his hand over your mouth with wide eyes but it's much too late. You stare at each other, mirrors of a fond defeat as footsteps sound down the hall. 
"What is so funny?" Roan asks, half-guilty 'cos she knows she should be in bed and half plain curious as she cracks open the bedroom door. 
Eddie sighs. It's not an unhappy sound. "Come and lie down with us and I'll tell you." 
She grins and rushes in. 
more eddie, roan and reader
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