Tumgik
#// and he wasn't given up because his mom didn't want him
megu-meow · 3 days
Text
family ties - gojo satoru
Tumblr media
gojo x fem. reader
Summary: Satoru takes you to meet the in-laws.
The Gojo family members mentioned are named after the Zoldyk family, cuz Satoru is the grown-up version Killua. Argue with a wall on that one. Anyway, hope you guys enjoy this one!
Tumblr media
"Please, sweetheart! I've been begging you for four years, it's time..." Gojo implores, running after you in the hallways of Jujutsu Tech like a lost puppy.
"I told you already, Satoru, I don't want to do it. You said it was ok if I didn't because you don't care what they think anyway."
"I know, but now that I proposed to you, my family wants to see you. Especially Ojiisan, he wants to meet the woman who charmed his favorite grandson." he whines as the two of you stop in front of your classroom.
"Toru, you said it yourself, all of your clan members are obsessed with you marrying someone from the big clans. We both know they will not accept a nobody like me." you explain as you rub your forehead. It wasn't that you didn't want to meet Satoru's family, but he was the one to refuse to introduce you to them in the first place. He didn't like the way they treated outsiders and he didn't want you to experience how old-fashioned and downright disgusting their beliefs and traditions were. You were better off without ever crossing paths with them, you were sure of that. However, as soon as he proposed to you, his clan members started pushing the matter, because being Satoru's wife would mean that you would get your own responsibilities in the clan, like attending meetings representing Satoru, when he was away, you would get your own vote in different matters, and lastly, the one you refused to take into consideration, you would become clan head if Satoru would ever be unable to fulfill his duties as such. It was normal for them to wish to meet you, but that didn't make it any easier.
"You will only have to meet my mom, my dad, and my grandparents. They don't care about how you are or what powers you hold as long as you love me. They will not make you feel miserable, I promise." he looks at you with those cerulean orbs that shine like rhinestones, ones you cannot say no to.
"You pinky-promise?"
"Of course, sweetheart." he says and he shows you his pinky, waiting for you to link it with yours. And you do.
The day finally arrives, a sunny Friday in April, as the Sakura blossoms. Ijichi picked up the two of you from your shared apartment early in the morning to begin your hour-long drive to the Gojo estate in suburban Tokyo.
"So your father's name is Silva?" you ask your fiance as you observe the landscape around you.
"Yes. He's kinda scary at first glance, but he would do anything to make me happy."
"Your mom's name is Kykio, right?"
"Yes, good job sweetheart! She's a kind-hearted woman, she's gonna love you for sure."
"Okay, I think I know enough about your family tree." you sigh, you really want these people to like you. You don't exactly know why, Satoru said he doesn't care what they say, he's gonna marry you anyway, but you know he loves his parents and his grandparents. Contrary to popular belief, he grew up in a loving family, he was spoiled rotten by everyone, hence his insufferable personality. However, despite how Satoru claims his family not liking you wouldn't affect him, you know it would. These people are important to him, whether he admits it or not. So you're not going to screw this up by not knowing their given names. Or by anything else.
You get dropped off in front of a massive gate that Satoru opens with ease and you're met with a pebbled road lined with Sakura trees. They are in perfect blossom, there is a sea of pink in front of you. Satoru grabs your hand in his and starts walking down the road, leading you toward where you assume the Minka is.
"Three, two, ..." you hear Satoru count back under his nose and you look at him with confusion, but as you look back to the road ahead of you a person appears, bowing in front of your fiance.
"Gojo-san, welcome back!"
"Amane, long time no see! How are you holding up?" he asks joyfully and you remember him mentioning his name before. Amane was Satoru's best friend at the estate, his cousin on his mother's side of the family.
"I'm doing good. You didn't announce your arrival, the clan is in a meeting right now."
"I know." he smirks. He timed this perfectly and you take a note to yourself to scold him for slacking off. "By the way, this is my fiance, y/n."
"Hajimemashite, y/n-san! Welcome to the Gojo Estate."
"Nice to meet you too, Amane. Please leave the honorifics, makes me feel old."
"As you wish. Please do not hesitate to call for me if you need anything. I will make sure to prepare Gojo-san's bedroom for the two of you." Amane disappears right after finishing his sentence, you couldn't even thank him for his help.
"GOJO SATORU!" you hear a deep voice shouting from afar and you feel goosebumps covering your entire body. Whoever that voice belongs to is frightening as hell. "Not only do you not show your face to a clan meeting, but you have the audacity to not announce me about my daughter-in-law coming to meet me?" you observe the tall, muscular man in front of you as he approaches with inhumane speed. He has long, wavy hair with bangs, the color identical to Satoru's, and icy blue eyes. It is Gojo Silva, Satoru's father. The cursed energy around him has a crazy strong presence, similar to Satoru's when he lets his unleash, but this one feels rougher, slightly colder.
First, he steps to his son, yanking his left ear, which results in Satoru whining like a little kid. The whole ordeal is comical, you know that his father is just messing around. After that, he looks at his son with disapproving eyes, calls him a menace and turns towards you.
"Y/n, yoroshiku! I am Gojo Silva, Satoru's father. You can call me otousan." he bows and you return the gesture with a blush on your cheeks. Satoru giggles, enjoying his father's antics. Despite being a seemingly intimidating person, Silva seems to be just as much of a goofball as Satoru. He asks you silly questions like what is your favorite dessert, how much you can eat and whether you discipline his son when he acts like an idiot. The last one causes Satoru to chirp back at his father, claiming that he called him the other night to 'change the Google logo back to the original'. As you observe the dynamic between the two you have to remind yourself that you're in the presence of the heads of the Strongest Clan in Jujutsu history.
You finally arrive in front of the house and you are greeted by a beautiful woman with dark hair and piercing blue eyes. She looks welcoming in her flowery dress and with her wide smile. Her smile resembles Satoru's, it reaches her ears and it's vibrant, like there is nothing wrong in this world. Her cursed energy is low, even lower than yours, and you're not sure if it's because she is limiting it or if she simply doesn't have much to begin with. Her aura is stronger, it is familiar and welcoming.
"Kaachan!" Satoru exclaims as he walks up to her, embracing the petite woman in a warm hug. She pats her son on the back, her eyes sparkling with the motherly love she reserves for him.
"I'm glad you're finally home, sunshine! Please don't give your father any more headaches while you're here."
"I will not, mother!" he says curtly and he suddenly snakes his arms around your hips, bringing you close to his side "By the way, this is my fiance, y/n!" he introduces you and you bow in front of his mother politely.
"I am glad to finally meet you, Kykio-san!"
"Oh, please, sweetheart, leave the honorifics. You are family, you can call me Okaasan or whatever you prefer." she says with her warm smile.
They all walk you to the family dining room, claiming that you arrived in time for supper. You're being presented with a variety of traditional Japanese dishes and you're more than excited to try everything that you like. Satoru's parents are extremely nice and calm. They ask you questions about your family, your upbringing, about Jujutsu and your time in high school. They claim they already know about every single detail of your relationship with Satoru, apparently, you're one of his favorite topics to mention when he is back home. They tell you stories about their son, how he was while growing up, what he liked and disliked, and how much of a troublemaker he was. You listen carefully to these stories, you want to remember them, to cherish them for a long time. After you finish the dishes, they are serving desserts, a whole lot of them in different assortments.
"Satoru has got a sweet tooth his whole life. His grandmother likes to prepare all kinds of deserts, even western ones so he grew up eating a copious amount of sugar." Kykio explains.
"Y/n bakes too! She makes cookies for me all the time!"
"That's not true, Toru! I've been trying to reduce his sugar intake, so now I only bake once a week." you explain and his parents look at each other knowingly, as they start laughing. You look at Satoru in confusion, but he just shakes his head, signaling that he doesn't get it either.
"Sweetheart, Satoru has been teleporting back home every week to eat desserts from his Sobo." his mother explains and you look at your fiance in disbelief. He acts like he's innocent, smiling at you widely, mouthing 'i love you'. You roll your eyes, but mouth the words back, because otherwise he would throw a fit in front of everyone.
"Where is that grandson on mine? Always causing trouble." you hear a male voice from the hallway and a pair of footsteps. The cursed energy coming from their direction is unpaired, it exceeds Silva's, maybe not Satoru's, but it still makes you uncomfortable.
"Have some decorum, Zeno. That boy has done nothing wrong in his life." a woman's voice is heard and the male grunts in disbelief.
"Typical Sobo Gojo, she always thinks Satoru is perfect." Silva explains and he lets out an obnoxious laugh, very similar to Satoru's. Now you understand where he got it from.
The doors open and you observe the cute elderly woman and the man with hair pointing toward the ceiling on her side. What is it with Gojo men and their gravity-resistant hair?!
"Satoru, do you have any idea how long it took me to convince the clan geezers to let your lady off the hook this time?" Zeno questions and looks at his grandson with an authoritative gaze.
"I'm sorry you had to do that, Ojiisan. I promise that next time, y/n will meet them as well."
"Good! Now come here, my child. I wanna see if my grandson was telling the truth about you being the most gorgeous woman to walk on this earth." he says as he gestures for you to walk up to him. You oblige as he takes your hands into his, analyzing them carefully. "Huh, truly beautiful. Your cursed energy flows nicely and you have a lot of it. You are strong, I like that." he says, drops your hands, and walks towards the table. After that, you are greeted by his grandmother, who scolds you for trying to limit her beloved grandson's insane sugar intake. However, she compliments you on your looks and politeness.
You sit back down at the table afterward, enjoying the moment of being surrounded by the Gojo family. Despite their reputation, they are all nice people. The three generations of men keep teasing each other, grandpa Zeno is a savage, making fun of both his son and grandson, he has absolutely no mercy. They keep telling you stories about Satoru like the time his grandfather shot him in the eye with a Nerf gun despite aiming at his butt. Or the time he was playing hockey inside while his parents were out and he broke the glass on his mother's favorite painting. Luckily for him, Sobo was home and she had the glass fixed before his parents even got home.
You tell them about the time he encountered a cleaning curse and how he smelled like detergent for two weeks. Or the time he wanted to pick you flowers from the forest near Jujutsu Tech, but fell into poison ivy.
The night goes by like that, filled with laughter and family stories. Despite having your doubts about meeting Satoru's family, he observes how you fit right in. How everyone loves you and they accept you for who you are because the love you have for him is evident. As it should be. And he swears that his love for you skyrockets even more that night, despite him knowing that it's nearly impossible.
191 notes · View notes
trappednyourheart · 12 hours
Text
The wrong DNA test
( what if, Sheila wasn't really Jason's mother? The system is already corrupted, then what about the test?).
A huge brawl containing every rogue had started at the time of Halloween, causing the people from downtown to fled there home's as joker had clownized the whole neighborhood with his goon's.
Every bats had taken to groups to take out the three parts of Gotham's as the rogue's had started to make alliances, some had lasted quite long while had conflicts, and causing a big damage to Arkham asylum,
It didn't take long before they captured all of them, none of the bats questions as they observed Jason glowing green eyes starting to flick, they thought it was the pit again, growing wary of the cooperation, but Crime alley was involved and that mean business to Red hood's turf.
Catherine todd love her son as her own even if not biological, Jason knew that. But her thing with drugs couldn't make her stop.
Sometimes after that, they could hear Jason humming a tune,a nice melody from Damian's statement saying that Jason muttered to him “ lullaby” as Jason continued to read his book, maybe it could be from Catherine,
they knew how Jason's past with Catherine todd, his mom even if not related, Catherine loves her son like her own kid but her doing drugs and... overdosing couldn't be stop.
Maybe Jason just remembered his mother maybe reminiscing atleast something familiar...even if it was a bad time.
Jason had constantly have been hearing a woman's? Man's? Voice, singing him a lullaby...it soothing, like as if he known and loved this melody...and that's where the dreams kept coming, there was a person, giving him kisses, Talkin to him stories, singing him lullabies and soothing him, he could dream that he was actually a baby, a baby from a normal couple, well don't count the luxurious baby room.
Jason had took out a conspiracies why he was getting this dreams, ( he swears he's not becoming Tim) and voices, maybe like a misshapen memories from the pits of victims? No it's to peaceful for that, maybe magic? He already contacted Constantine but surely hang up after knowing who it was-
Just how is he getting this dreams? Unless it wasn't.... So he proved again his point, he started a DNA test, again but none had records...of Sheila being his biological mother...that was weird, last time he had a test was from the time as robin..and before his-
So he went to that hospital who had said where Sheila had given birth to him, and most of shock is that no one knows a mother giving birth named Sheila haywood but had a document of a baby, of one Jason jay nightingale, the most believing part was that it's the same day he was born in.
His mother, Daniel F. Nightingale was said to be trans as the doctor who help his mother safely delivered him, And saying that his mother loved him,
one Sheila Haywood had the constant trick to get him and taken him as his own, because his mother's family was a wealthy one they practically sold him to her.
Jason had thought that maybe his mother's family never wanted him to have a son with a man from Gotham's crime alley.
Meanwhile Danny had just been YEETED to the DC universe before the start of Batman's justice thing and had been adopted by a very wealthy fruit loops couple as there kid, so he stayed as the couples daughter even pretending, because he owed ghost writer a favor for the last time, and as DC universe exist so it's story, and one thing for sure the child he had to give birth in this universe has a very complicated fate,
he did the one night stand from his supposed friend Willis Todd? He had to befriend him as Dalia F. nightingale the supposed Wealthy daughter who fell in love with a peasant trope, and gotten pregnant making it a scandal, and reaching to his ‘parents’ circle and getting that drama.
But he never thought he would care for his child, his little jay, his ghost side would purr in delight when they held Jason, he was a very hard sucker especially from his pacifier or his breast, it's so weird being in a women body,
but the way his ‘parents’ sold his son to the women who was supposed to get his son killed and being revived by cheap parody ass of ectoplasm.
He went feral, he had an argument to his ‘parents’ but all fell deaf ears, he couldn't find his son in one of the hotels nearby where that BXtch was.
And that time was where his part of the script was fulfilled, ghost writer already took him, both sides of his, were angry.
He. will. get. his. baby. back.
80 notes · View notes
sleepynegress · 22 hours
Text
On Challengers...
Okay.
Tumblr media
So, here's the thing. It's decent.
It's sassy, catfighty, but with dudes using rackets and tongue-wrestling, and the tennis scenes are tense, but... it wasn't at all confidently scandalous like I would've expected.
....Like I feel like they didn't push it far enough, somehow? And not even in the way you might think, with dicks a-swingin and thrusts abundant. Remember, the movie Closer? -I think that came out in 2007ish and was rated PG-13??? Or could have been if not for the language.
Natalie Portman has a similar nudity clause to her contract and *STILL* had the absolute sexiest scene with Clive Owen.... .....Which I'll put in this post to demonstrate what I mean. This felt like it held back at moments... When it came to pushing desire, between the men and/or with Zendaya, with one or the other. It just felt so tame to me given the hype. I was hoping for a return to artistic sensuality in film again, instead of this weird sort of by-rote-feeling purity culture we're having rn. (I'm watching Love Lies Bleeding tonight and I BET that delivers. Lesbians, salude!) I was hoping for Cruel Intentions' lush cut with The Dreamers' sensuality..if that makes sense?? AND some good-good tennis. THAT did deliver. WOW, some of the shots for that were eye-popping. A critic I follow noted that her issue (she always has the best takes I don't agree with all of them but they are always well-articulated) was that Zendaya was not fleshed out as a central figure, especially as a BLACK WOMAN. It was yet again another case of a Black woman dropped down from the moon coming from no people of her own, but just somehow existing in a sea of white people with not a hint of Black friends or loved ones.
Hell, they could've even laid out *her people* like the brilliantly underrated Beyond The Lights with Minnie Driver playing the stage manager mom to Gugu Mbatha Raw's biracial pop star. But that comes down to the white male gaze fucking it up, yet again. I looked up the screenwriter and just kind of nodded knowingly with an 'oh, yeah that's what I expected, that explains it...' He simply didn't have the range beyond a sort of vague tennis fetish for brown girls in short skirts grunting and swinging and wanting to do something with that. He admitted that Naomi and another Black woman player's interaction on the court *inspired* this...
Perception of Black women doing ANYTHING can be so heavy with a weirdly asexual gaze from white women and hyper-sexualized by white men. And if desire/centering tips in the "wrong" direction deemed by prejudice and our assumed place....*yeesh* we catch hell. You're either bafflingly too ugly to be treated with desire (whew the incel bigots are big mad that it's Zendaya and not a Sweeney-type) or only deemed good enough for it, because of that white gaze. And resented regardless.
*sigh* Can't win for losing. But I digress. Zendaya's co-stars are the oddest looking mystical-dwarf-head ass forest creature white boys with big ears, but they GAVE in the acting department. Mike Faist is a STAR. He has a sort of laidback sweetly confident rizz. But he definitely is the lovechild of a young Scott Glenn and DJ Qualls. I want to put him in a western immediately because he has Civil War photo face.
Mike O'Connor has that desperate dirty hairy scruffy thing like dude from The Bear. Like you KNOW he has a scratch tat somewhere and would do the dirty with his partner in the toilet stalls or anywhere else. Hollyweird is strange about beauty standards man. Back in the day, they used to pretend old white men, who looked like they smelled like Barbasol mixed w/ urine would somehow be sexy to a twentysomething. Now, we have this dichotomy of thankfully a little more of a diverse gaze for the centered "bombshell" other than blonde with large breasts number 32637263872.... but we also have some actresses cutting fat out their cheeks and being Ozempic thin. *sigh* ...While the "basic" hot boys are punching the air rn because they are also passé. Got to have something interesting going on in the face for everyone now, I think. Can't just be AI "pretty" anymore. Thankfully.
....Anyway. It is good, but with those caveats I laid out.
P.S. ICONIC for me is seeing Zendaya's Black-ass nose bridge drawn large on that poster. P.P.S Thank LUCA for doing the queer elements well... I personally don't think it went far enough, tho...
Mike bottoming for all, including getting pegged by Zendaya would've happened in my version of this... at least implied, come on (ficwriters?) Oh! and here are the clips from Closer, but then it was a successful play first, so the script is more substantial in that.
youtube
youtube
This is how filthy I expected Challengers to be, and it's just. not. Nothing in The Challengers touches the heavy heady nastiness in this scene IMO, but something in that movie should have, dammit! Note they never even touch each other.
28 notes · View notes
azulhood · 2 months
Text
It all started because of a school project, technically two projects, while it wasn't a world ending threat they set of a change reaction that lead to startling discoveries.
Mr Lancer had given the class the task of looking through their pasts and finding an life changing event that helped shape them into the person that were today and writing about that event.
It was a ten page essay (they were allowed to go over that limit) the more details the better and if you had something from that event to show (such as photos or keepsakes or really anything) you were awarded extra credit.
Danny's choice of event was the school field trip to a nearby museum he went on when he was seven, the space exhibit they had was what sparked his love for the stars and kick-started his dreams of being an astronaut.
It wasn't like he had any other choice (he doubted mister Lancer would accept 'my death' as a good life changing event)
He knew that he had photos of the field trip somewhere with all the other photos taken throughout his life, he just had to find them.
And after digging through thousands of boxes and piles of discarded inventions he handled with care (in case they blew up) he found them tucked inside an old photo album covered in green stains that sat on top of a bookshelf.
Opening the book caused all the pictures to fall into his lap, it seems like his parents didn't get around to actually adding them to the book, Danny resigned himself to spending the rest of his day shifting through old photos.
It wasn't all bad though, he found pictures of when Sam still had blonde hair and wore pink and of that time Tucker wrote an 'I love you' on his parents cars with their keys and many other embarrassing photos.
A treasure trove of blackmail material.
He finally found the picture he was looking for.
All of the kids who are now students of Casper high stood in front of an old building each proudly holding up something they bought in the gift shop (Danny had bought a book on planets that had long ago fallen apart)
It was a normal photo.
And yet, something seemed off.
Sam and Tucker were there with him in between them, Dash was there too.
Along with Kwan, Mikey, Paulina, Valerie, and all the others.
And yet, something was missing.
Then it hit him.
Wes wasn't there.
Danny could've sworn that he had been on that trip, but the more he thought about it the less he was sure.
He couldn't actually remember Wes being there and Danny remembered nearly everything about that trip.
'Maybe he was sick or something?' It was the most logical thing he could think of to explain the other absence, that and his parents not wanting him to go for some reason.
Mystery solved he pushed it to the back of his mind , he had an essay to finish.
Still, it stuck with him.
-----------------------------
The next school project Lencer gave them was one with assigned partners.
Danny got Wes who, despite not being Sam or Tucker, was leagues better then Dash and he'd take that as a win.
Wes had insisted on studying at his house so he could, and Danny quotes "Keep an eye on you Fenton"
Danny could practically feel the hidden cameras burning a hole into him while he stood in front of the Weston's door, waiting for him to go ghost for whatever reason.
Jokes on him though, Danny asked all the ghosts to leave him along for this month with the promise of giving them a head start the next time they caused trouble, so really Wes was just wasting his time.
"This way." Wes said already heading inside without caring if Danny followed.
Being the first time he had ever been in Wes's home Danny looked at everything and anything.
It was a fairly normal home, not like Danny's which had an anti-ghost defense system or Sam's super rich house.
But more like Tuckers
One of the things that drew his attention was the pictures that lined the walls.
There were so many.
Some with Wes and his mom, some with just him, some with just his mom, and some with people Danny didn't recognise.
But there were no baby photos.
The only pictures Danny could find of a young Wes seemed to be from when he was eight? Nine?
And nothing before.
'Maybe they were put away in storage' Danny guessed, but it still made his brain itch.
He remembered looking at old school photos and not finding any sign of a young Wes at all, he didn't even remember Wes coming to school any time before the year Danny turned eight.
And in a small town where everyone knew everyone that really wasn't possible.
'Maybe they moved here and lost a lot of stuff' Which would explain a lot, well no harm in asking. "Did you loss a lot when you moved here?"
Wes stopped walking and turned around to give him a look that asked if he was insane. "I've lived here my whole life, Fenton."
Danny froze, that couldn't be right, he'd remember that.
Something was wrong.
---------------------------------
Tim Drake sat in front of the bat computer as the rest of his family patrolled.
He had one monitor displaying the other bats locations while all the other monitors were used to show him files, or rather the lack there of.
Wayne Enterprises had tournaments held for schools and the prize was an all express paid trip to Gotham and tour of WE and surrounding areas, Tim could think of way better prizes that weren't visiting the crime capital of the world but that wasn't the point.
What was the point was that every time there was a winner Tim preformed a routine background check on students and staff (and by routine he means learn their whole live story) just in case anyone happened to be trained assassins set to kill one of them, stranger things have happened.
Wes Weston was one such student whose background Tim had to check.
And he found nothing.
Sure, there were hospital and school documents from age eight and upwards, but other then that nothing.
There was no birth certificate, no evidence of him attending daycare, nothing.
It was as if Wes did not exist before he was eight years old.
And perhaps the most interesting thing.
Amy Weston was listed as Wes's biological mother, DNA even said as much, and yet Amy's medical file said that she had never been pregnant and also had no siblings that could've been Wes's parent.
And yet Wes existed, appearing one day as if he had always been there.
Was it cloning? Aliens? Magic? A changeling? Someone creating false information to hide the truth?
It was a mystery, and mysteries had always been Tim's Kryptonite.
1K notes · View notes
railingsofsorrow · 7 months
Text
Recharging. . .
[spencer reid x reader]
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
summary: spencer's best remedy is his little family.
pairing: s.reid x f!reader (+ eden reid!)
w.c: 3.8K
warnings/content: fluff; cuteness overload; children; spencer is a girl's dad; discussion of a case; mentions of death and traumatic events; this is basically a hurt/comfort blurb; mentions of pregnancy; mentions of marriage; crying.
A/N: is anybody in need of some fluff? this was supposed to be a short drabble.... enjoy this old WIP as I finish some of my requests.
loosely inspired by ocie elliott's take me home
want to read more works about this au?
→ day-off
━━━━━━━━━━━━
You stopped the low humming to the song as you eyed the rearview mirror to check on your kid. The familiar scratching against your seat warning you she was awake.
“Hey bub,” you take advantage of the red traffic light to dive your hand back and tickle her bare feet. She'd always kick off her shoes the first chance she got. Your favorite sound echoes through the car: her giggle. “You were just napping, where'd that energy come from?” you refer again to the tip of her feet bumping against your car seat. Another reminder that she was getting bigger every day.
Eden raised her arms, wriggling her little fingers like she did when she was excited for something. You were pretty sure she got that from Penelope, you always saw they do this whenever she came over to your place.
“We're visiting daddy!”
A laugh bubbles out of you. Eden left you amazed by her perception of things. Although the route from your apartment to the BAU wasn't that strange for her anymore, given that you and Spencer drove a lot to drop each other off with her in the car.
“Are we?” You turn on an avenue, humming. “I didn't notice.”
Eden looks at you through the rearview mirror, “but you're driving, mommy. You need the GPS. It's in your head.”
“Is it?” You're amused at your toddler's choice of words. “Okay. Yes, we're visiting daddy at work. We've come to pick him up because he's very tired from a case and it's not good to drive while you're tired, right?”
“Right!” She nods vehemently, craning her neck to check on the view through the window. “And he needs me to recharge his bats.”
You finish parking your car and a smile curls up the edges of your mouth. Eden can't say the word batteries so she shortened it to an easier version which is bats. You still have to teach her what the word actually means.
“That's right,” you say, taking off your seatbelt and opening the door. By the time you reach the backseat, Eden is grinning like the Cheshire cat. Her excitement never ceases to rub off on you, even though you enter this building most of the days in a week. “Hi, baby.” You cooed, welcoming your child in your arms after unbuckling her seatbelt. Her light brown curls that you have no idea who she got it from tickle the side of your face as she snuggles to your chest to stare at the tall FBI building.
“Shoes on. Coat on. All warmed up. Shall we go up?”
An eager Eden exclaims a loud YES and that's enough for you to start walking.
From “Spencer”:
[6:34 p.m] No need to pick me up, angel, I can drive. I am not that tired.
[6:35 p.m] Is Eden still at your mom's? I can pick her up on the way.
This is the mutual feeling you have on workdays. Not in a million years you'd understand how hard it was to be away from your daughter for more than one day. Until it happened.
It makes your heart break when you're not able to tuck her into bed or pick her up at school to see her excited little legs run towards you. In spite of the fact that Spencer and you manage well to alternate days at work so she always has one of you close by, it's difficult to not see her every day when a case takes either one of you out of the city.
You can only image how much he misses her after being away for four days.
You left the messages unanswered and click on another chat instead. Light of my life with a bunch of hearts is the one you're looking for. Penelope somehow stole your phone someday and changed her contact name to this; you never changed it back, just left as it was, it suits her anyway.
“Smile.” You request Eden as you lift your phone to take a selfie of the two of you. Her grin exposes her two missing front teeth. “Done.” You kiss her cheek and adjust her in your hold to type another text, waiting for the elevator to reach your desired floor.
To “Light of my life 💗❤️💕”
[6:38 p.m] incoming at five... four... three...
You hit send right as the elevator doors spread open.
Just as you step into the bullpen, it's as if a switch has flipped because your daughter promptly tucks her face into the croak of your neck, her cold nose making your shiver slightly. Her hands clinging onto your blouse.
Eden gets shy under watchful eyes, no matter how many times she visits the BAU.
Penelope is walking briskly out of her office, her hands wriggling into your direction as she catches sight of you and the bundle in your arms. Every eye in the bullpen turns to you because of the commotion.
You haven't seen your husband yet.
“There is pumpkin!” That's the reason that pulls Eden out of her shell. She practically throws herself out of your arms and into her favourite aunt's arms. “Oh, hello, hello, my beautiful niece, whom I have missed so much!”
Eden is giggling and you can't help but smile softly at the scene. Soon, your friends start approaching one by one. It doesn't take long for Eden to have at least two new toys in her hands. Emily and Derek are competing which one she likes best.
“She's so big.” JJ entwines her arm with yours.
You sigh, leaning closer to her, “Yes, she is.” You say, observing Eden play with Emily. “Henry as well! How is he by the way? We haven't had a playdate in so long.”
JJ nods, “He's great, my sweet boy.” Her eyes hold a fondness that you relate. “And that's true. We have to set up a date, catch up on things that aren't murders and blood.”
“Preach, Jayge.”
Your laughter dies down when the two people missing from the group appear. Your eyes met Spencer's and his whole body seems to relax as if it physically pained him to stand and seeing you just helped him take a breath of fresh air. Luke greeted you with a side hug and was immediately captured by Eden's endearing spell, as expected. Although, once Spencer entered her line of sight, no one else mattered.
Spencer let his satchel drop to the ground without a care so he could scoop Eden up as she jumped into his arms. His sullen demeanor converting into a cheerful one in a blink of an eye. This is what Eden means by “recharging”.
You watch the reunion with a growing smile, deciding to approach them a little later.
“Hi, sweetheart,” Spencer says while peppering kisses at her cheek, her little nose and her forehead. Eden could only reply with giggles as her whole face became red at the overwhelming love she's receiving. “Daddy missed you so much, did you know that?” And the crack in his voice goes unnoticed by her, but not by you, so you take advantage of everyone's distraction to step towards your little family.
Eden is giving her dad a butterfly kiss when you get to them. That's her way of saying I missed you to any of you when you come back home.
“Hey,” you squeeze his arm in a gentle touch, grabbing his attention. “Tough one?” your question is discreet, only meant for him. Eden is fortunately too busy with her new stuffed toy that Derek is showing her to notice anything else.
The dimmed spark in Spencer's eyes along with the red outline of his eyelids are everything you need to know. You don't need words — you never needed words to understand Spencer — but he provides you a meek yeah and swallows hard. The only thing that seems to be holding him back from crumbling down is the fact that he's holding his daughter.
In an attempt of comfort, you pull his free hand to yours, intertwining your fingers and giving it a tight squeeze. Just for him to know that you were there and it's okay now.
He repeats the action, the corner of his lips pulling slightly. His attention is quickly stolen back to Eden, who starts listing possible names to the new friends that uncle Derek and auntie Emily had gifted her.
They discuss the matter until you bid everyone goodbye, a playdate, a babysitting afternoon and a girls night out scheduled. Trying to take Eden from Spencer was foolish, he didn't want to let her go. No matter how tired he was. Better yet, she didn't want to let him go either.
“I think grapes would be a great name, E.” Spencer praises her daughter's naming skills as he buckled her up in the safety seat. “What about this one?” He grabs the green bunny and places it in front of his face, his voice in a high-pitched tone to imitate an animal's voice. “What will you name me after, miss Eden Reid? I am green and I like carrots!”
Eden's bright caramel eyes glint with joy and she pulls the bunny to her chest, holding it tightly. “I know what I'm going to call them.”
“You do?” You were starting to be curious as well.
“Mr. Greenie.”
“You're so clever.” Spencer and Eden shared accomplice smiles and you see everything of him in her at that single action. It was in the nose scrunch whenever she found something particularly funny, in the spark of mischief in her eyes and even the outline of her mouth which you never stopped noticing from the moment she was born. Eden carried a lot of mannerisms and features from you but those things? They definitely came from him.
He's not even halfway to the driver's side when you steal the keys that he had stolen from you when you were in the building. You've known each other for ten years, for three out of those ten you have been married and Spencer still thinks he can be slick with you.
“You're riding shotgun today, pretty boy.”
His eyes are filled with amusement as you walk by and give his butt a soft squeeze.
“Really?” He says, leaning on your window. You had already turned the engine on when you give him a serious look. “It's a long drive. You already drove all the way here.”
Giving him an eyeroll, you muse, “It's not that long, Spence. And you're tired. Just get in.”
Quantico wasn't far from your home, but ten minutes in the road was enough to send Eden to dreamland. You were certain she had fallen asleep when her humming to Angeleyes, that was playing on the car radio, stopped.
You suppose Spencer has fallen asleep as well, until you stole a glimpse at him during a red light to see he was just staring out the window. A far away gaze.
His mind was far. You could feel that. You two enjoy the silence but it's not like that. This is not the kind of silence you want to bask in after a tiring day of work. No, this is different. It comes with the type of things you face at work, the voices in your head that claim they know what's best.
You know that silence. You've drowned in it once.
A gentle breeze caused a few strands to slip out behind his ear. He was letting his hair grow longer again. You liked it, it suited him.
“Hey.”
Your knuckles grazed his cheek softly, tucking a piece of his hair behind his ear. Your hand lingered at the nape of his neck and he let out a sigh, leaning back in a way that you knew he needed that kind of touch.
Good thing your love language is physical touch.
“You want to talk to me about it?” A whisper.
Spencer refrained from a verbal answer, but he reached up for your hand, lifting it to his lips to place a prolonged kiss which translated to I'm glad to have you.
“Not now,” he said, caressing your palm. Definitely later then. Your communication can be non-verbal sometimes and that's one of the great parts of your relationship. You knew that some days words were hard, so the touch and the eyes fulfilled the void of a voice.
He gave it a delicate squeeze and that's when you realized the light had turned green, so your attention was back to driving.
At some point, you could feel a comforting weight at your right thigh. It was the familiar warmth of Spencer's hand, something that he liked to do whenever you drove. Good thing his love language is physical touch.
“I got her.” He practically leaped out of the vehicle once you parked, walking around the other side to get Eden.
Your asleep child didn't so much as flinch while being picked up. You caught her little arms embracing his neck as you locked the doors of your car, her shoes on your hand and Spencer's satchel on another. He tried to fight you on that but you just ignored him.
“Sleepy head,” you mouth to him as the elevator went up. Eden's big eyelashes fluttered lightly when you kissed the top of her head.
The corner of your husband's lips quirked up, “Just like her mother. Sleeps anywhere.” He said, not breaking eye contact, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
Rolling your eyes, you hummed, “Don't know what you're talking about.”
The apartment was quiet, an unusual occurrence at this time of the day. Normally, Eden would be rambling about her day when one of you arrived from work — I learnt about seagulls today and we made a drawing; grandma made cookies!; Teacher Susan read a story about a princess saving her kingdom, I want to be like her someday. Isn't it like what you do, mama? I want to be like you — a range of subjects mixed with her occasional endless energy of a child. Some nights, she wouldn't stop running around until she tired herself — and both of you — off.
Today was different. She was asleep before you even arrived home, it was way before 8 p.m and the apartment was quiet, no toys scattered around, no ink stain on the floor. She was into painting nowadays which is a rather messy hobby for a kid, but you'd indulge your daughter's wishes anytime. She is a kid, she should be messy.
“I love you, bub.” Your ears pick up Spencer's faint voice from the entrance of Eden's bedroom. You perched up at the wall, careful enough to make yourself unknown. Not wanting to disturb the little father-daughter moment. “I'll always be here.”
That was something that didn't need to be said out loud because Spencer showed that every day. He didn't spare love demonstrations regarding you or Eden, he never had. Although you know part of the reason beneath that promise. Some people haunt us forever, even when they are no longer present in our lives. His father still walks somewhere in the corner of his mind, no matter how many times you tell him that he is not him.
“Is the whole bathroom drenched or...?”
Spencer chuckled, seeking for your hand to pull you closer as you stride to your bedroom.
“It wouldn't be Eden if she didn't make an entire spectacle during bath time.” He said. “But I cleaned it up, so don't worry.”
“That's true.” You eye his soaked shirt attempting to contain a smile. “Guess you already took your shower?”
“You're so funny,” Spencer murmurs dryly.
“Yeah, well,” you shrug nonchalantly, slowly encircling your arms around his neck. “Wasn't that why you married me? Or was it for my good looks? Nah, it was definitely my terrific sense of humour, wasn't it?” A peck on his lips. “You can admit it. I won't be mad.”
“Ego the size of a lake, that one.” He mumbles, burying his face in the croak of your neck and practically locked you in his hold.
You started to message on his shoulders to ease whatever felt heavy in his chest. At least, until he let you in.
It wasn't until after you both showered separately to finally call it a day and laid down to rest that he broke his silence.
“A little girl died. We couldn't get to her in time.”
Oh, kids.
Now it all made sense.
A shiver went down your spine at the thought.
“Oh, Spencer...” if the tone of your voice translated anything, it was that you understood. His body was entangled to yours when you tried to diminish a bit of his pain by showing that you were there. “I'm sorry, sweetheart,” you said into his curls. The moist sensation in your pajamas top let you know he was crying, but you didn't give it a second thought. It was what he needed.
“I could only think of her and I—” he said shakily, suddenly leaning away to cover his face. “Any rational thinking went down the drain.” His croaked out, drying his tears in the harshest way possible. You pulled his hands away from his face, replacing it with your softer touch.
“Spencer.”
“I can't even— even grasp my head around—”
You cut him off, “good. Don't do that. Because it's not real. Spencer,” you cup his cheeks, forcing him to look at you so he could focus on something that wasn't the disruptives thoughts in his head. “Eden is here, in the room next to ours, safe and sound.” That seemed to calm him down lightly, but you could see the conflict in his gaze.
“I wasn't fast enough.”
“It was not your fault.”
“You weren't there.”
You sigh, “I don't need to physically be there to know that you, as well as the team, did your best to crack the case, Spencer. As you do in every other case we have.” The hardest part of this job was still the loss that you had to live with. The guilt. The shame that, despite doing your best, you wouldn't be able to save everyone. “As we always do.” Sometimes, you needed some convincing too.
“I know it's hard to believe what I'm saying,” you forehead was touching his and your eyes were shut. “but it's the truth. You have every reason to feel that way, it never gets easy to face what we face every day. But, Spencer. It was not your fault. You did what you could, please trust me on this, okay?” Please, don't blame yourself. You don't deserve it.
“Our little girl is right next door, sleeping with her favourite plushie. Safe. Because we make sure of that every single day.” You know it's not that simple, to not doubt the dangers that run in the world, probably in your street, but you can't live in fear and you don't want your daughter to live in fear either. “And I'm right here. we're not going anywhere.” You won't lose us.
“Yeah,” he croaks out, releasing a batted breath. “Yeah, I know.”
Slipping an arm around your middle to bring you closer was the indication you needed to understand that he was hearing your words. Your husband settled for accepting your warmth for the time being, you were playing with his curls, gently brushing them away from his face.
That's all he needed, really. You. The home and family you have build together. Nothing else.
“You know,” you say, thumb traveling across his jawline until it reached the tip of his nose. “People keep saying she has your nose and I think I'm starting to see it.”
His body shook with laughter, causing his eyes to crinkle slightly.
“Oh, really? You're starting to see it now?”
Your lips curled up at the edges, “Yes.” You lied, poking his ribs, earning a glare. Your smile only widened. “No. The nose is clearly yours.” He raised an eyebrow and shrugged.
Spencer leaned close enough so he could press his lips to yours.
“She has the outline of your mouth, though.” He tucked a strand behind your ear. “And your eyes.”
Soft padding against the floor pulled you out of your trance and you knew who was at the door before looking through the open space of the door that's been left ajar.
“Is that a ghost that I'm seeing, angel?”
You decided to enter Spencer's playful undertone.
“Mhm. Good question, I think that's definitely a squirrel or something. Look at the red and yellow paws.”
Eden's mismatched socks flashed your eyes in the dim light of your side table lamp. Her soft giggling made you smile instantly.
“What are you doing up, sweetheart?” She curled up to his bare chest as soon as he scooped her up to hold her on his hip. “Mhm?”
She grabbed both of his cheeks, forcing him to lean down so she could say something to him. You observed them with a curious gaze. “It's not a squirrel,” Eden whispered. Spencer's face broke out into a grin, “tell mama it's me.” Spencer nodded and dutifully did as asked.
“Oh!” You exclaimed, acting surprised. “It's you, bub? With these tiny socked feet, I almost didn't recognize.” Eden's shrieks as you pepper her whole face with kisses. “You want to sleep with mommy and daddy tonight?” It's your turn to whisper as if it's a secret, but it's loud enough for Spencer to hear it as well.
Eden nods shyly, resting her head on her dad's shoulder. Her feet wriggling lightly. Who could ever resist those sweet doe eyes?
The three of you then lay down in your bed, Eden engulfed between Spencer and you. Hopefully, she wouldn't kick and turn all night like she commonly did. She was sleeping through the entire night alone in her bedroom, though some nights — like today — she would sneak in to yours.
Just like you expected, the toddler fell into dreamland with your soft chatter about random things you did during the day and what you needed to do during the upcoming week. You cracked a smile at her slight parted lips and wild curls dispersed on your arm which her head was laid on.
“Thank you.”
Your attention drifts from a sleeping Eden to Spencer. His eyes carried their usual light again. They now glinted with a familiar pride rather than the heavy darkness it was drowning in earlier in the evening.
“What for?” Your whole demeanor softened at the way he was looking at you, heart swelling with love.
“This,” he says, eyes falling on Eden. “For this. Her. You.”
You blink, the sudden urge to cry is being hold back by a thread. You don't know how to react.
“You're the best thing that's ever happened to me.” And he's said that before. When you first confessed and he said he felt the same. In your wedding day. When Eden was born.
“And you are the best thing that's ever happened to me, Spencer.” You manage to whisper beneath the crack in your voice. He lifts his torso to kiss both of the single tears that slipped out of your eyelids, caressing your cheek lovingly. “I love you.”
“I love you too, angel.” His mouth stretches into a soft grin. “And I love the life we have built.”
━━━━━━━━━━━━
taglist: @lilyviolets
━━━━━━━━━━━━
A/N: will never forgive the show for not making this man a dad.
2K notes · View notes
katsukikitten · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Izuku doesn't have many vices, mostly because he doesn't allow himself to indulge in any. Thinking them more as nasty habits or stains on his perfect PR record than anything else. Like headaches he'd rather avoid or didn't seem worth the bashing he'd receive from fans and haters online.
But that didn't mean he never indulged.
Especially with the weight of being the number one hero pressing down onto his broad shoulders, pushing him further into his sulking as he drapes himself over the smooth bar top. Half finished handle of liquor under his scarred palm, swirling the last dredges of the clear liquid inside as he thinks about ordering another.
Izuku was only here at this tiny lively bar in the small forgotten prefecture of Tokyo because Kaminari dragged him here. The electric blonde wasn't sure if Izuku had a girlfriend or not, he knew his occasional hero partner to be secretive about his love life which was the opposite of Kaminari who often advertised just how single he was. Denki dragged the hulking hero because Izuku needed to “live a little” and it was “cuffing season.”
Izuku didn't know what that meant.
Googling it is how he finds himself on the brink of a spiral with his perfectly white teeth sinking into the inside of his lip before his tongue laps at the metallic tang that floods his mouth.
It doesn't stop his teeth from sinking into tender flesh, it doesn't stop him from swallowing down more burning booze or sighing loudly.
He just can't stomach the thought of having to face his mother without a date during the holidays again this year. Don't mistake this concern for self pity nor vanity. Izuku is not the type of man who thinks he deserves to have people fawning at his feet, hell the man often grappled with feeling deserving of his given quirk on a daily basis more often than not.
But the way his mother looks when she opens the door, how her big smile drops the slightest when Izuku shows up and no one is there under his arm or holding his hand. Or awkwardly smiling as they meet his mom and Yagi-san for the first time even though they'd been dating for a good long while.
Izuku is just too busy, he doesn't mean to be, tried to board his PTO to take a long hiatus or two from work so he could dote on his partner.
But nothing was ever good enough.
He couldn't face that look of worry or concern from his mother, not again.
It wasn't for lack of trying on Izuku's part either, blind dates arranged by his mother or friends, even the agency! Dating app after dating app leading to dead ends or lack of intimacy leaving Izuku to feel hollow, desperate, enough to seek out other lonely heroes that wanted nothing more than sex.
Still he took everything seriously, maybe too seriously, and things just never worked out.
Yet the hopeless romantic in him never wavered and he thought he had one last shot at love when the hero agency set up an arrangement for a PR girlfriend to keep his ratings high. Izuku did everything in his power to make it work, to try to fall genuinely and deeply in love with the pretty woman who he shared his apartment with. Taking her on dates to places like the movies or to see the Sakura. Fucking her on his couch, in his car, over his dining room table after pushing away the dinner she made.
But each action only made him feel empty, more so than before. There was no spark between them, at least not on his end and Izuku couldn't stomach the idea of leading her on. Especially not when Izuku saw hearts forming in her eyes from more than just sex.
It ended in a mess when she confessed she loved him while straddling his lap and he went soft inside her. Fat tears threatening to fall that he blinks away before she gets up to slap him, he doesn't feel anything.
She breaks her fingers.
Breeching her contract that Izuku buys out when the agency threatens to sue her, the only time the commission head ever saw Izuku's bright emerald eyes narrow and darken.
He doesn't understand why he can't keep anyone around, he begins to think he is the problem.
That maybe his expectations were too high? Maybe he didn't devote enough time? Or maybe he really truly didn't feel anything when he was with any of the men and women he dated in the past save for one.
He expected love to be like the movies and of course Kaachan called him a dumb ass for it. That romantic sappy shit, movies that Izuku and Katsuki had watched curled together on Izuku's couch, “weren't fucking real.”
Only for the blonde traitor to move in with a woman he knew for less than six months when Katsuki kept telling Izuku it was too soon to move in with him despite them secretly fucking for a year and knowing each other all their lives.
Izuku finished the second half of his bottle.
His phone demands attention, chirping from the pocket of his jeans as Kamianri’s laugh echoes over the confined space. Izuku reads the banner on the illuminated glass, the text is from his mother.
Is it just you this year, honey?
Before a second one comes through.
Yagi is asking so we know to put the leaf in. We don't mind when you bring extra company. Kaachan and his girlfriend were a pleasant surprise last year.
But I'll be more than happy to just see my son.
Guilt floods his system, heavy in his chest that it forces a groan from his throat. Idle hand coming to clampe and squeeze harshly at the nape of his neck. Finger shaped bruises forming under thick digits in the hairline of his undercut, his emerald curls doing little to hide it. As the pain ebbs pleasantly down his spine he thinks to pat down his jeans seeking out the familiar rectangular outline before he slides off of the wobbling stool.
Pushing open the heavy door to the secluded alley with ease, mind sharp and feet steady as he looks around. Alcohol never had much effect on him due to his large stature and even larger metabolism leaving him to drink an obscene amount of booze before he felt a pleasant buzz. Tonight he hadn't had nearly enough to ease his shattered heart.
Jagged emerald eyes cut through the alley before he lets the tension in his shoulders release but not enough he'd be off guard. He remembers Stain and his legacy, he knows society still remembers the hero killer too. Knows that most heroes don't necessarily die in action but when they're most vulnerable. Throats slit while they were asleep, fucking, or stepping out into a dark alley in the middle of the night for a smoke.
The thought does little to soothe the aching need in his throat, to feel the burn that could dissolve the lump that sits uncomfortably behind his Adam's apple. Pulling out the half crushed pack of cigarettes and placing one between his lips. Dark orange lighter flickering to life as he rolls over the steel and flint before he takes a deep breath.
Only to instantly regret it.
Stale smoke clots his lungs and coats his tongue, still the acrid taste doesn't stop him from pulling another drag. Mind wandering far beyond where he stood, willing the smoke to smother his hopeless heart.
“Didn't you have a campaign ad against those?” You purr, watching the bulky man tense as his head snaps up to face you.
Izuku hadn't seen anything and his danger sense didn't go off when he surveyed the alley but it does now. A tingling in the soles of his feet as he looks up at you shrouded in the shadow of the neighboring building on the fire escape a foot or so next to his head. You jump down with ease and lean against the rough brick wall next to him. Close enough your elbows touch.
Watching the giant of a man fumble over the stick in his mouth making a cruel smile form on your own.
“Number one hero smoking, tsk tsk, what if I'm an impressionable young lady?” You giggle and it clings to Izuku's skin more than the stale smoke, he scoffs.
“You act as if you don't have a vice.” He glances down at you from the corner of his eye before tilting his head up to blow the smoke away from you.
“Everyone has a vice Mr Deku.” Brandishing your cherry tootsie pop you seemingly pull from thin air. Making a grand show of pocketing the bright red wrapper before popping it past glossy lips, eyes glued to the hero hiding outside the alley of the no name bar.
You imagined he'd be in uptown places, where the silverware was gold plated and a shot of patron was twenty dollars. Not here with the ripped leather seats held together with faded duct tape and cloudy glasses.
But here he stands in black jeans, a gray graphic tee with black sleeves from an undershirt rolled up past his thick forearms, smoking no less. The only expensive thing on him is his watch, it makes your fingers twitch.
You roll the sucker around in your mouth, letting it clink your teeth as you watch him, a harsh line for a mouth that smiled so brightly on the news this morning.
Did all heroes do this? Look pathetic in dark alleyways smoking overly stale cigarettes hoping no one sees them? He looks down at you with a calculated, cold gaze, if you were any other woman it would send a shiver down your spine. Especially from how it contrasts to his normally bright gemstone eyes now they looked clouded, jaded with unspoken emotion.
You think it serves him right, yet still your clawed hands bring out a pack of unopened cigarettes from the pocket of your oversized jacket tilting them towards the hero.
“Take these. Those have gotta be at least a year old. They don't make the packaging with the small warnings anymore.” You crinkle your nose at him, his normally doe like eyes narrow as they rove over you harshly before he quirks his brow.
It's kinda cute how bitchy he looks. You swat away the thought and he thinks he's bothering you with his smoke.
“I thought you didn't smoke.” He moves the stick further away from you.
“I don't. I lifted them off the electric blonde you came with. He's a terrible flirt you know.” Cat smile forming around the lollipop sick in your mouth, watching Izuku's eyes flash in warning, it makes you giggle, “Gonna arrest me?”
“Stealing is wrong.” He stubs out his half smoked cigarette, it disintegrates against the brick from its age and not the pressure he applies.
“So’s lyin.” A smiling retort as you shake the fresh pack at him, “I'll even pick your lucky.”
He looks down at his old ragged emergency pack with only the lucky looking back up at him. Bent and half broken from the argument he had with Katsuki almost a year ago about how Izuku couldn't stomach just sex anymore.
Looking up at you but before he can accept the offer you're already gently patting the pack against your palm, pulling the golden plastic that acts as a guide to take off the wrap from the box. Picking his lucky at random and flipping it upside down before you pass the pack to him. He sighs and takes the box, looks down at the fresh pack and looks back up at you. Sees your smug smile.
“Thanks. Going to black mail me now?” He decides he should have another since his first one was so awful. Pulling the dark orange lighter from his pocket to start a good ember.
“No, I think I've got enough collateral.” Flaunting his expensive, classy watch on your wrist. Well about mid forearm for you, “Secrets safe with me.”
Instinctually his broad palms slaps his wrist where his watch should be, as if he doesn't believe his eyes. Glancing back up at you again wholly expecting you to be already at the mouth of the alley but you stay close to him. Well within arms reach and step closer to him still.
He blows the smoke up into the sky again, keeps the cigarette on the opposite side of you.
“I've got more expensive ones in my apartment.” He comments it almost comes off flirty until you see how sad his emerald eyes look. Izuku wants to ‘be a man', wants to take you home and fuck the brains out of your pretty head but his heart swells in agony, he sighs out more smoke.
“Is this you trying to take me home? Ooo so heroes do have one night stands!” A teasing nudge to his ribs, he doesn't even budge, just moves the burning stick up higher so the smoke won't stick to you.
“I don't do one night stands.”
“Then why invite me to see your expensive watch collection hmm? Tryin to get me to steal your heart instead?”
“Maybe I am.” His gaze flickers to you again, holding your eyes as his lids are at half mast.
Did anyone even know the number one hero could give fuck me eyes?
“Steal my heart, be my girlfriend.” He looks down at you, sees what he registers as panic, “Just through the holidays.”
You blink up at him for a moment as he studies you. Drinks in how those black skinny jeans cling to your thick legs, how the fishnets do little to keep his thoughts pure and that little lingerie you wore as a top had his dick twitching. Left fist clenching when his eyes look over a man's leather jacket on your broad shoulders.
He thought about all the jackets he owned so he could replace the well worn garment on your shoulders with his own.
“I'll pay you.” Taking a long drag, feeling desperation claw up his throat competing with the burn of nicotine, “Pay you a lot more than what that watch is worth.”
The idea of it makes you laugh loudly, the pretty sound echoing around the alley as you grip onto his forearm for stability. He had to be fucking drunk, there was no way he was asking a theif to be his fake girlfriend, what was this a shojo manga?
But when you look up at him and see his freckled cheeks flush with embarrassment you swallow down the rest of your mirth.
“Oh you're serious.” Pulling the cherry sucker from your mouth, letting your lips pop around it lewdly, Izuku watches with close emerald eyes his mind wandering down places it shouldn't, especially not with a woman he's just met. Still thick digits twitch as he tries not to palm himself roughly.
“What the number one hero can't get a girlfriend?” You deadpan and this time it's his turn to laugh except there isn't any joy in it.
“Ha. No. Haven't you heard? I'm too much of a ‘fucking nerd.’ Guess Kaachan was right.” He stubs out his cigarette before pocketing the butt since there was no tray in the back alley.
His admission gives you pause, pressing the cherry confection back on your tongue roughly before you pull it into your mouth taking it from manicured nails. Pushing the sucker to poke out your cheek making Izuku's long lashes flutter.
“Kaachan?’ You giggle, looking up as you move the sucker from one side of your mouth to the other with your tongue. Hard candy clacking against your teeth, “You mean Katsuki? That's Dynamight’s given name right?”
Shit shit shit! He hadn't meant to call him that! How did you figure it out so quickly!
“Oh! Oh please don't say anything!” He looks mortified and you watch his cheeks turn as red as your tongue.
“Don't worry Zuzu. Your secret is safe with me.” Crunching down on the last thin layer before the taste of chocolate coats your tongue swallowing the Tootsie roll and Izuku watches your Adam's apple bob while his mind swirls with dirty thoughts.
Thoughts so dirty he almost misses you add,
“Gonna need bigger pay to keep quiet.” Nails tapping his watch, “Sides can't say I'll be a good girlfriend. I hate everything after Halloween. My birthday included.”
“What? Everyone loves the holidays!” He's shocked you've said that and you shake your head.
“No, everyone with good or whole families love the holidays.” You correct and he looks down at you with a frown. Already you pick up on a habit of his, teeth worrying the inside of his lip as he thinks, “I currently have neither.”
“Oh I'm-”
“Don't. I don't need the mighty hero’s pity.” You scoff, sounding a little jaded before you fix your face, turning to a joke as another smile pulls at your pretty lips, “Not when I can take his money instead.”
“Cute.” He scoffs sarcastically, still he can't deny the flutter in his stomach.
“You're kinda bitchy ya know that?” You smile, “The media makes you out to be Prince Charming.”
“I don't look like Prince Charming?” He gestures to himself and you laugh loudly again. He can't help the heat that creeps up his throat.
“Bet you fuck like Prince Charming too. All vanilla and boring.” Struggling to stifle yet another giggle.
“If you accept the offer to be my girlfriend you can find out if that's true or not.” Quickly his demeanor changes, emerald eyes darkening as they slowly drag up and down your body with a sinful gaze. The sight of him looking down his nose at you makes your stomach clench. You shouldn't be considering his offer now from one intense gaze. A hero and a morally gray person never worked out and it was only a matter of time before your thievery caught up with. You really shouldn't but you know what they say.
Curiosity killed the cat
“Fine. I'll be your little girlfriend til new years. When do we start?”
“Tonight.” He leans close letting his large hand slide down your forearm to your wrist til his fingers are lacing with yours, “It's so late, I really should get you home, shouldn't I baby?”
Emerald eyes sparkling with promise that he planned to devour you whole the second the two of you stepped foot into his penthouse apartment.
“Yes, you should. It is so very late."
Tumblr media
“Oh my god IZUKUUUUU fuck fuck fuck!” You scream as you grind onto his handsome face, cumming on his skilled tongue for the umpteenth time in the half an hour you've been in his apartment. Mauve nails around his throat as you choke him slightly, shamelessly riding his face to prolong your high, not that he would dare interrupt it. Groaning loudly under you as he slowly yanks at his fat long cock that leaks with pre. Hungry eyes watching him as you let out another breathy moan.
“Fuck and you've never had a girlfriend before?” he laughs in your cunt at your question. Strong hands coming to lift you off his face with ease so you can hear him better.
“I know I said I was a nerd but I never said I was a virgin.” Before he roughly adjusts you back on his cute freckled face, slurping your clit roughly as mock punishment for interrupting him. Your eyes cross and your thighs squeeze his head.
“Fuck.” You whine and he's rewarded with more of your slick as you cum again, Izuku already decided that he loves how you whine curses for him. Feels you start to slump from the pleasure as your body melts, offering you his hand to support you better as you grind into his face before you can't anymore.
Before this insatiable man lifts you with ease, flipping you onto your back when the needle of the record player hits the center of the vinyl. Pressing you into the dark couch with his pelvis as he wets his cock by grinding into your sticky folds, making you gasp out like he wants before he's gently cradling your throat, slipping his tongue into your open mouth as he groans.
“We taste so good together.” He growls, the sound makes you see stars, especially as his fat cock head nudges against your abused clit. Catching your fluttering entrance and it makes you both shudder before he angles himself properly. Slowly sinking in and watching your face for any signs of pain or displeasure. Watching your eyes roll with each passing moment before he rested against you. Giving slow, rough thrusts that grind down into your clit that have your hands shaking at his back as claws struggle to find purchase in his skin.
“And you're telling me these girls didn't stay for the dick either? Fuck Izuku!!!!” Arching your back, if you weren't careful you'd become addicted to him, your question makes him hide his face into your throat.
“Guess sex isn't enough.” He mumbles against your tacky skin.
“That or you're not telling me something.” You gasp at the end, when he keeps hitting that spot and makes you cum each time. Makes a deep tension in you dissipate until you feel as if you're floating, you wouldn't be able to speak much longer.
He thinks you'll pull away but instead you thread your fingers into his sweaty curls to bring his face to yours. To look deep into his eyes even if you struggle before you seal your lips with his. Letting your tongue slide over his until you moan his name into his mouth.
“Oh fuck Izuku, you have to cum in me now. Fuck fuck you're throbbing.” Your cunt clamps down on him at the thought of his warm seed spilling into your milking cunt. He pants over you, still keeping that steady slow roll of his hips but how you squeeze him makes him insane. Makes his hips finally speed up before his pace turns sloppy.
His moans turning into loud grunts as he fucks you with enough vigor the legs of the couch scrape against the expensive hardwoods until he's cupping your throat again but never squeezes. Looking down at you and you don't dare look away as you watch his long lashes flutter, the sight makes the coil in your stomach snap again. Feel him paint your cunt in pearly strings of white before he slowly lowers himself on shaking arms, giving your throat a tender squeeze before he rests his head in the crook of your throat, he hadn't intended for the two of you to fuck already. Hell he didn't even mean to rip off your jeans and set you on his face so he could show you that he really wasn't boring.
And he sure as fuck didn't meant to fill up your pretty cunt with his spend.
“What are you doing to me?” He pants playfully, kissing at your thudding pulse point.
“Stealing your heart, remember?” A breathless giggle as the two of you lie like that until his cock begins to soften. He sighs, slowly gets to his feet before he's lifting you into his arms, it makes your cheeks warm, especially when you look down at the soaked fabric of the sofa.
“I think we ruined your couch.” He laughs at your joke.
“Ts fine, the covers are machine washable.” He nudges his nose into your cheek and you giggle before he's setting you on the edge of the tub as he starts the shower for you.
“Here's how to adjust the water temp if you need it hotter. Most women love it scalding.” He takes a step back, moving to grab for a fresh towel for you. You try not to let your heart sink when you realize he isn't going to join you.
“Oh a real casanova huh?” He rolls his eyes at your playful jab before he steps into his bedroom to give you privacy for the time being. Fishing out a T-shirt and clean boxers for both himself and you to sleep in. Laying yours out on the bed as he smells his body wash float from under the snowy glass door. It makes him smile as he thinks of how you'll smell like him until he takes you to gather your things from your place tomorrow, that or he'll buy you whatever you want or need.
For now he'll relish the idea that you, his fake girlfriend, gets to smell like him, your fake boyfriend.
After awhile you come into the room, clean and pristine, movement catching Izuku's eye of course. When you meet his eyes you smile, give a little twirl.
“It's Chanel.” Letting your fingers adjust the hem of the regular cotton towel and Izuku laughs.
“Is it? Lemme see.” He rises, holds your hand to twirl you again as he looks down at you with a smile, “Perfect fit.”
“Thank you.” You giggle again, feeling shy for the first time under his heavy gaze. Watching the corner of his lips tilt upward before he points out the clothes he left out for you and slips into the bathroom. Surprisingly you don't hear the lock click to the door, Izuku was either far too trusting or he truly did not see you as a threat to his life.
Quick to change into the oversized, old shirt and boxers before you take this opportunity to explore his penthouse now that the six foot four man wasn't pressing himself up against you.
Tiptoeing out of his room even if you knew you didn't need to, whetting your curiosity first with the living room that was adorned with ceiling to floor windows to the left when you first came in. Your breath fogging the window as you look over the cityscape. A snaking inky black cuts through the bright lights, the wide river bed reflecting the lights back in swirling currents giving the scene the stars the sky lacks.
Even this late at night the prefecture is teaming with life, you wonder if it's exhausting for him. To sonder over the lives that carry out beneath his feet. If he wonders if he can save them all.
If he knows he can't.
The needle of the record player bumps against the middle of the vinyl again pulling you from your thoughts.
“Oh.” You squeak, tiptoeing to the old thing and gently lifting the arm. Finding the album cover and slipping the vinyl in with ease before shutting off the player. Eyes quick to find the empty spot on the wall to where the album goes.
Not on the shelves under the player, no those were jam-packed with composition notebooks unlabeled making your curious fingers twitch. The album belongs up on the wall with the rest of them that he organized beautifully. Each piece placed perfectly to compliment each piece of art so that it could be viewed individually or if you stood back you could see it as something whole.
Standing on tiptoes to return its album art facing forward. Taking a step or two back to appreciate it before the notebooks whisper to you.
Slipping one from the shelves, it's filled margin to margin with text about the albums. The notations were meticulously detailed reminding you of placards at museums or art exhibits. Finding the corresponding piece, staring up at the art before your eyes flicker down to the notes.
…when the music swells it squeezes my heart, the lyrics were chosen carefully bringing tears to my eyes. It's haunting how relatable it is to wonder if I'll get a perfect love and if I do that I'm deserving….
You swallow thickly, know you'll get swallowed up by this notebook that you didn't have the time to dissect, especially not with the limited amount of time you had. It felt akin to a diary, something you shouldn't be reading. Normally that wouldn't discourage you, wouldn't have your fingers slowly shutting the book. Normally you'd devour as much as you could with an excuse on why you weren't where you were supposed to be on the tip of your tongue.
For now you return it to the shelf.
Feet carrying you across the cool hardwood to the open concept kitchen that over looks the living room with the album art, expensive couch and the TV. The large waterfall island made of marble, clean and smooth save for a few scattered pieces of Izuku's life he hadn't yet tidied away like the rest of the apartment.
Another notebook, a theme it seems, lying open. A sketch of a hero on the left with text surrounding them before paragraphs of text and few bullet points to the page on the right again in Izuku's slightly messy handwriting. As if his hand cannot keep up with his brain.
Snow Fall - similar to Shouto’s ice quirk…
“Beloved?” Izuku's voice calls gently from down the hall, you tear your eyes away from the notebook and quickly open a few cabinets before you find a glass and fill it from the tap.
“M coming! Just needed water.” Heading back to huge bedroom, smiling devilishly when you find Izuku.
Seeing his body better in the light of the bedroom. Scarred, thick with muscle and soft freckles kissing almost every inch of his skin. The tan spots giving extra attention to his Adonis belt that leads to his fat cock. It makes your cunt throb.
You set the AllMight collectable glass down onto the bedside table, not noticing the fanboy item until you see his flushed cheeks, following his eyes to the PLUS ULTRA cup. The source of his embarrassment makes you giggle again.
“It's cute.” You reassure, jumping on top of the deep viridian duvet, cocking your hand on your hip and pulling your shirt up to show a little skin.
“When's the last time you fucked on this great big bed?” He doesn't answer you right away, basil eyes looking at you before they begin to look through you.
A burning ember gaze sears his memory, he closes his eyes as if that would stop the images from demanding every last shred of his attention..
“Been awhile.” He finally admits, dropping his towel unashamed as he steps into his black boxer briefs. They cup his sac and softened cock nicely, clinging to his thick thighs that have you salivating. The way he ate pussy and fucked was almost good enough to replace the cold hard cash he promised to pay, almost.
That distant look in his eyes made you wonder if there was someone else that held him back from his romantic endeavors.
“Shall we christen this great big bed too then?” A playful tease as you pull up the fabric of his shirt to expose your breasts. He loved the sight, loved how you looked in his clothes, in his bed, underneath him as his emerald pendant swings in your face.
His cock twitches, a tick in his jaw before he's clasping his hands in restraint. Wringing his fingers as he thinks of the last time he fucked in that bed.
He feels the ghost of sharp canines at the nape of his neck, his hand automatically moves to brush over the area. His curls fall over his eyes and he sighs deeply.
“No. I think you should sleep.” He smiles softly, it doesn't reach his eyes and you don't push, “We've got a big day tomorrow. Got to get your stuff and -”
“I don't have a lot of stuff. My outfit was the most of it.”
“You don't have any other clothes?”
“Maybe another pair of pants, some underwear for sure but this is mostly it. So we have time.” You purr, crawling down the bed before you flop onto your stomach. Arching your back purposefully, out stretching your fingers to play with his.
“Then it will be even longer. We'll have to get you an outfit for the party.” He threads his fingers with yours before you let go when his words register. Sitting straight up.
“Party?”
“Yes, baby doll, party. We've got several to go to. Maybe a gala too. Then there's the agency Christmas party oh and…” He bites at his lip as he rest his chin on scarred digits beginning to go off on a tangent as he thinks of all the invitations stuffed in the top desk drawer of his office.
“A gala?!” Oh fuck oh fuck this was a bad idea. When he said girlfriend through the holidays you thought fucking and a private date or two. Not being surrounded by pro heroes you ran from on the daily, identity concealed with a mask.
Not only would you be in the literal lion’s den but you really weren't the most classy type of bitch. You've never really been invited to any big event let alone one that was fucking televised. At least not events you didn't crash to slide priceless paintings off the walls or expensive jewelry off the wrists of the one percent. At least then you'd have your mask to hide behind, the ability to blend into the crowd but now you'd be hanging off the arm of the number one hero.
You'd have to act like a proper lady who definitely didn't crash in vacation homes or half lived in apartments of the rich and the famous while they stayed in their main mansions until they got tired of the same old four walls.
Each gig you promised that this would be your last and each time you found yourself with a new piece of jewelry made from dazzling gems of deconstructed designer pieces hungry for the next heist.
Art and jewelry weren't the only things you've stolen, information and secrets often sold for a lot more but Izuku, pro hero Deku, didn't need to know you had a stash house, more like stash attic, in some rundown home in Kamakura you'd gotten for a steal.
His thighs bump up against the edge of the bed, cupping your cheeks for a moment, “You look…worried.”
“I am worried. Some of these events are televised. Are you sure you want me? I'm not exactly Yaoyorozu or Kendo."
“I wouldn't have asked if I wasn't.” He comes down to press his lips to your forehead. It makes your stomach flutter, it shouldn't, “Besides those will be the easiest ones. The hard ones are the more personal settings.”
He leans back, takes his hands from your face as he heads towards the lights, “I won't let anything happen to you.”
He flicks off the lights, stands by the door for a moment before he goes to shut it.
“You're really going to sleep on the couch? I thought we had to make this realistic.” A final attempt to get him to at least come and enjoy his luxury bed. It was big enough that you doubted the two of you would even touch by accident in the middle of the night. If he was so afraid of intimacy, which was odd, he seemed more the time to fall in love if he fucked. Especially when he did romantic shit like fuck you to music and whisper some of the lyrics in your ear.
You pat his side with sharp clawed fingers, “Come on boyfriend.”
He can't remember the last time he slept in his bed, changing and washing the sheets more out of habit than necessity and as he tries to recall he thinks it's been over a year.
He looks at you for a long, long time, you curled up in his expensive sheets and comforter as you pat the spot beside you patiently but he sighs.
“Maybe another time. Good night sugar.”
“Good night Zuzu bear.”
Tumblr media
3K notes · View notes
janitorhutcherson · 5 months
Text
Bf!Futturman Headcanons (Future Man)
Tumblr media
there is NOT enough future man content! allow @dollfacedalls and i to fix that :p these r some headcanons we came up with real quick. if there are typos, sorry guys lolz. its 3am and i just typed this up bc i felt like we needed some josh futturman content. enjoy the sweaty loser boyfriend vibes!
Bf!Futturman who tries to be flirty and sexy but is unsuccessful. You've been out all day, and you've just gotten home. The moment you walk through the door, Josh is in front of you in a pair of dinosaur boxers with a huge, cheesy smile. You know why, and you know what he's wanting. You can't help but grin like an idiot as you put your bags down, walking towards him to place your hands on his hips. Before you can do so, Josh attempts to lean against the coffee table in a sexy fashion. Of course, as expected, he loses his balance, his feet falling out from under you. He lets out a yelp as his elbow hits the coffee table, your eyes wide as you run to assist him. "Baby," you gasp as you kneel. "Are you okay?" you mumble as he repositions himself, now leaning on his hurt elbow on his side, the toothy grin back on his face. "Yeah.. fine now that you're here, sexy," he says, wiggling his eyebrows as you roll your eyes, hitting his shoulder.
Bf!Futturman who is so clingy that he misses you so much, making him even want to be you. You two live together, Josh finally having moved out of his childhood home to get an apartment with you. You were at work, and Josh was upset. He felt like his other half was missing. It wasn't fair that he was off and you weren't. So.. naturally, he did what any man who was missing his partner would do -- he tried on your clothes, sprayed himself in your perfume, listened to your favorite songs, and watched your favorite TV show. When you walked into your apartment to him sitting on the couch in your dress, the apparent scent of your cherry-scented perfume in the air, Dance Moms on the TV, you gasped. The moment his eyes locked with yours, Josh froze, his eyes wide, not really sure what to say. Your eyes darted to the empty bottle on the table; your lonely boyfriend had drained your expensive perfume. Josh's eyes followed yours to the bottle as he shot up, walking over to you with raised eyebrows. "I swear, baby, I- I'll buy you a new bottle," he awkwardly muttered, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish smile. 
Bf!Futturman who wants an ugly cat with you. No, not just a cat, but an ugly one. He wanted to find the most hideous, rattiest, mangy-looking cat the two of you could find. At first, you were somewhat frustrated with how adamant he was about the situation. You would've been much happier with a fluffy kitten with pretty blue eyes and soft fur. But no, you loved your boyfriend so much you'd given in. Josh convinced you he wanted one because 'nobody wants the ugly ones.' He claimed it was an action from the goodness of his heart, an action to save a poor kitty. He never would've said it out loud, but the reality was he didn't think the name Barthalomeow fit a pretty kitten. You ended up with a fluffy cat with huge brown eyes bulging from its skull. Its bottom teeth hung out of its mouth, and its brown fur stuck up in every which way... Yeah... it was hideous for sure, but Bathalomeow loved you and his kitty dad so that you couldn't be too mad.
Bf!Futturman gets so sucked into his game that he doesn't notice anything around him. When you weren't around, and he wasn't working, Josh did NOTHING but play Biotic Wars. He'd be so sucked into the game for hours, going to disgusting extremes to avoid having to press pause. When you were home, though, he'd only dedicate an hour or two a day to the game. This usually didn't bother you, but one particular day, you were feeling incredibly desperate for his attention, his eyes locked onto his TV screen as his fingers moved stealthily across his keyboard. You felt like you'd attempted everything. At first, you just tried his name. No luck. Then, you tried tapping his shoulder. Barely flinched. Your next action was more severe, seeing if your words would stir anything in him. "Baby," you called out, your annoyance apparent. "Hm?" he hummed with a half-assed response. "I'm going to my other man's house in a few. Is that cool?" you said from behind him, sprawled out on the bed with your eyebrows raised, your eyes throwing daggers toward the back of his head. "Yeah, whatever, babe, I'll see you later," he mumbled quickly as a loud groan left your lips. "Jesus christ," you mumbled. "Gonna jump off of a bridge, Joshy," you sang out jokingly, to which Josh responded, "Okay, baby." It felt hopeless, that was, until you had an idea. You threw your shirt off, your bare chest exposed as you pranced over to him, standing in front of him. Josh glanced over at you for a moment, his eyes widening slightly as he reached his hand up to grasp your boob before looking back to his screen. "Mm, give me another hour," he hummed, his attention once again back on Future Man. Nope, didn't work. You'd revisit in an hour when you were his girlfriend again, and it wasn't his controller getting all of the hand action.
Bf!Futturman that attempts to cook for you. Josh could not cook. This was a given considering in order to cook, you had to have good coordination and be able to somewhat follow directions. Unless in video game form, it was difficult for Josh to do both. You didn't mind, enjoying making dinner and snacks for the two of you. It wasn't until one night Josh wanted to surprise you. He'd watched a YouTube video online on how to make a baked chicken with broccoli, mashed potatoes, along with a few other things. He didn't think twice about the difficulty, already feeling like a chef as he turned off his phone. He was soon proven very wrong, as about an hour later, you walked into the door to the smell of burning meat and smoke filling your kitchen. Josh stood in the center of it all, surrounded by far too many pans for him to be making such a simple dish, many of them filled with what looked like pure charcoal. He looked at you with sad eyes, a pout on his lips. "I'm sorry, baby, I didn't mean to make a mess. I really just wanted to do something nice for you like you do for me," he said softly as he walked over to you. You embraced him into your arms, pressing a kiss to his head. "Hey, 's okay baby, we can just order takeout," you giggled, deciding to turn the oven off and leave the mess for another time. 
Bf!Futturman who has no filter and lacks an understanding of time and place. The two of you were inside an art museum. You pulled out your phone to snap a cute selfie. The moment he saw the camera, he pulled you close, stiffening his entire body as he stared into the camera with a blank expression. You snapped the picture, reviewing it afterward as your smile dropped. "Seriously, Josh?" you asked as you raised your eyebrows, showing him the photo where he looked both uninterested and terrified all at once. He snickered with amusement, his nose scrunching up. "God, people are going to think I kidnapped you," you muttered under your breath. He nudged you with his shoulder, raising his eyebrows up and down. "That's because you did!" he exclaimed as he pretended to yank out of your grip. People began to stare, and Josh just snickered as you smacked his shoulder. "Shut up, Futturman!" you gritted through your teeth, rolling your eyes. God, you loved him, but oh, how he pissed you off sometimes.
1K notes · View notes
Text
My nana at 9 years of age was dragged kicking and screaming to school. Her math teacher had been molesting her. She told her parents. They did nothing. Best part? Her father was the principal. So obviously that teacher learned he could get away with anything and started molesting the other girls, who then blamed my nana because...I dunno, little kid logic I guess. It was unlikely their parents were going to be any more helpful than my nana's and he knew it.
My great aunt at the age of 13 was forcibly kissed by a teacher in full view of several witnesses who then gave her shit for seducing an honourable man.
My mom at 12 years of age left her physically abusive father to live with her mother and stepfather, only for her stepfather to molest her. Her mother to this day refuses to believe it.
My best friend had a longterm close male friend who sexually assaulted her in her sleep. Their entire friend group as well as the youth counselor encouraged her to forgive him because it was obviously a misunderstanding and she'd been giving off mixed signals and he'd had a huge crush on her and he wasn't intending to hurt her! So she did forgive him, publicly. And he did it again. And again. And again. And then it was her fault because she kept hanging out with him. If she really didn't want him doing it, why didn't she just abandon her entire friend group? He also got emboldened and went on to sexually assault other girls, so eventually they all started talking and went to the school against him. The youth counselor admonished my friend for going forward against him.
My other best friend decided to be "open-minded" and dated a trans-identified male. He also sexually assaulted her multiple times in her sleep but he framed her as the abuser at their youth support group for not adequately validating his identity.
My stepfather molested me from the ages of 7 to 12 and when I reported him he was dating a new woman at the time. She didn't believe it. They're still together. I can only imagine the number of girls he's been given access to over the years (he didn't go to jail, or get convicted of sexual assault).
I was also sexually assaulted in my sleep at my friend's party once. That guy's friend said I "probably wanted it".
Went to group therapy. All the women there had very different stories, but one theme that kept cropping up: they weren't believed or they were blamed.
I read books about therapy sessions with other victims. And that theme kept up. Not believed or else blamed. One woman told her story, learning to gloss it over before being dismissed out of hand, for decades before a professional finally asked her to elaborate and put her in touch with a sexual assault crisis centre. Another thing that came up in those books: knowing how hard it was for victims to come forward, and all the discouragement from people in their lives, many women must take it to the grave.
But hey, it's fine. Men have it worse. I mean we all watched a rich abusive man successfully publicly humiliate his victim while everyone said he was the victim and she was the abuser. And actually it's super common for abusive men to claim to be the victim, and police and family believe it! And it can take multiple women to come forward against one man for anything to be done, and often even that's not enough. But never mind that, men have it worse. We know this because they so--no, no, don't pay attention to hospital records or homicides or child marriages, or--Men. Say. They. Have it worse! So they do. Everything a man says is truth. That's why you must believe whatever a man says and accept every observation he makes as objective. No, there's no irony here, no historical precedent, no global trend.
744 notes · View notes
evasive-anon · 4 months
Text
Jason was having a pretty OK time with the league of assassins, sure getting dunked in a lazarus pit sucked and Bruce turned out to be a scumbag who didn't care about him, but at least he isn't dead. He even liked most of the new skills he was learning there so on the whole being with the league seemed like a pretty good deal to him until Talia woke him up in the middle of the night and left him alone with two child assassins.
Or, a demon twins AU where when Talia realizes her father intends to have her boys fight to the death takes action first by deciding to take all her kids and leave the league. Talia either dies or is separated from them in the initial escape and now Jason just has a bag of supplies and a letter from Talia explaining the plan to get to Gotham. Jason has to get himself and two 7 year olds out of the Himalayas, across a desert, and over 12k miles to Gotham. Only now the league members hunting them down want them dead or worse and Jason isn't too confident that B will accept them given their kill counts.
Featuring:
Good Mom Talia. she loves her kids. Did she teach them to kill? Sure, but that's an important life skill.
Single Teen Mom Jason. He's the oldest and in charge but he also will not answer any questions about The Plan™ given he isn't committed to Talia's but also doesn't have a set alternative. Oscillates between looking forward to just dumping his new little brothers with Bruce so they'll be his problem and thinking of just moving somewhere random in the US and keeping them based entirely on how cute vs annoying they are at that time. Didn't realize how much he relied on Talia to help him with things until she is gone. He's really trying his best but he wasn't all that emotionally stable before this so hang in there.
Angry Smol Dami. He's still drinking the LoS punch and really dislikes that he is now considered a traitor. Can't stand that Jason won't answer any of his very relevant questions. Is actually very scared but will not show it. Misses his mom. Didn't even know he had siblings until his mom yoinked him out of bed that night and brought him to Jason and Danny and started all this. Physically the stronger twin. Thinks Danny is dragging them down in fights and also may blame him a bit because clearly his mother only did all this to spare him.
Danny, reincarnated with limited access to his memories and powers. Has been trying to keep his powers a secret. Talia knew about them but never told anyone but she may have hinted at it in her letter to Jason. Not the strongest physically but very good at stealth and social interactions. Didn't know he had and older brother or twin before Jason woke him up at Talia's instruction that night. Thinks Damian is mean and has faith Jason knows what he's doing even if that is very much untrue.
570 notes · View notes
luveline · 6 months
Note
hi jade! can I make a request for kbd au, maybe one of the girls gets sick or is in the hospital and Steve and r trying to take care of her and the other girls but are worried themselves. pls ignore if you don’t like this love your writing:)))
ty for requesting! ily i hope this is ok ♡ kisses before dinner —you and beth spend some time in the hospital. mom!reader, 1.5k
“Mom?” 
“Yeah?” 
Bethie looks up in your lap with red-rimmed eyes, her eyelids puffy. They look so sore. You bring your hand up to touch her cheek. 
“When's everyone coming back?” 
You lean back in her hospital bed and pull her against your chest. “Soon, baby. So soon. Are you missing everyone?” 
“Yeah. Avery said, um, that she would let me,” —she rubs her little nose into your collar— “sleep in her bed with her when I go home.” 
Bethie will be sleeping in your bed for a while so you can keep an eye on her, but you let her believe it because she sounds very eager. 
For now, you aren't sure when she'll be going home, but certainly not tonight. She's having trouble breathing at night, and her skin warms yours with the intensity of a space heater. “You're not enjoying our big sleepover?” you ask. Four days and counting, you've slept here every night in chairs slumped over her lap or briefly in the foldout cot beside her. 
She was too sick to remember the first two days, but now she's getting better she's realised you're doing something strange together, and she may be poorly, but she seems particularly pleased to have your undivided attention. “I love it!” she says in a rush, prompting a wracking cough into your shirt. You rub her back. “Sorry.” 
“If you need to cough, you do it, baby.” You bring a tissue up to her mouth and clean away the spittle. “Don't be sorry. Cough all over me.” 
You hold her close. You didn't need Steve to tell you to take care of her to do it, but you can't get the memory of the run up to Beth's hospital stay out of your head.
I think– I think we need to take her to Urgent Care. His sickly terror, but his surety, too. Steve was gonna make whatever decision he needed to and you couldn't have stopped him (and wouldn't want to). By the time you called Robin to watch the others, your girl getting sicker and sicker, Beth couldn't keep her eyes open. 
Not you nor Steve nor Beth made it home that night. Steve, squinting with a migraine, had relented in the early morning. You'll stay and I'll go home, he'd said. You wouldn't call it selfish to want to be the one to stay, but it was selfless of him to volunteer to go home. He hasn't once asked you to leave her side. So you look after her for me, too. You have to do double. 
“Here, my love,” you murmur, bringing a sippy cup to her lips. Doesn't matter that she's too old for it. “It's just juice, don't worry. No more medicine.” 
“I miss daddy,” she says, pushing the cup away. 
“I know. He should be here any minute now, yeah? And when he comes he's going to be all worried and bossy about how you're feeling, so let's drink this juice. It'll make your voice less crackly.” 
“Is it crackly?” she asks, surprised. 
“Yeah, babe,” you say with a laugh, “it's like crunchy sugar, you can't hear it?”
“What?” she asks, giggling between little coughs. 
You hold her cup to her lips. She values her father's esteem for you, drinking her juice and settling back into your arms just in time for him to arrive. He has yet to be mad at you during this time, but you're sure he'd threaten violence if Bethie wasn't getting all the attention and care that could possibly be given. The first thing he says is, “Hello, my girl, how are you feeling today?” 
You try not to rush her out of your arms and into his, but he has company. Steve picks Bethie up from your arms with the same slow hesitance he'd hold a newborn, his lips quick to the top of her head. “Sweetheart,” he says softly, “hello,” before he goes completely silent. 
Robin stands behind him with your teeny tiny baby held in her car carrier with both hands, and Avery and Dove toddle in front of them with matching grins. You slink off of the bed and crouch down, nearly knocked on your butt as they rush you. 
“I missed you! I missed you so much!” you shower their cheeks with kisses before pulling them in for hugs. Over their heads, you give Robin your best smile. “How's she doing?” 
“She misses you. Or she hates me. Either or.” 
“You're the best friend in the entire world.” You close your eyes into the cuddling. “She loves you.” 
Steve sits down on the side of the bed and rubs Bethie's back, all but covering the short breadth of it with spread fingers stroking up and down. “You look better today,” he says. He speaks softly. You have to strain to understand him. “Did mommy give you a shower? You look sparkly clean.” 
Bethie curls into him. 
“I missed you,” he says. “I miss you every second you're not home, I can't wait for you to come home.” He looks up at you. You shake your head gently. “But how about this hospital bed, huh? This looks comfy. Can I lie down?” 
Steve lays down in the bed with Beth against his chest. He looks super tired, his eyes wrinkled in the corners and his jaw set in pain. Bethie rises up to squish her cheek against his. Steve makes a kiss sound. “Aw, Beth. Love you.” 
Dove wants to be on the bed —this is a vaguely new place to her and she's a toddler. She whines until you lift her up, while Robin puts Wren's car seat in a vinyl chair and sets about unclicking her straps.
“Is she feeling better?” Avery asks, holding up her hands. 
You walk into her outstretched arms. “She is. Not one hundred percent better, but better. She just needs to stay a little bit longer.” 
“How long?” 
“What did the doctor say this morning, Beth?” you ask with a smile. “Just one more night for checks. Then hopefully tomorrow we can all go home.” 
It takes a while to get everyone settled. Robin sits in one of the chairs and you the other, Wren placed in her car carrier to your left. Avery climbs into your lap, and you find no reason to dissuade her from sprawling backwards, her head under your chin. Steve hugs Beth with a palpable relief about him, though he holds Dove's hand when the smaller girl insists. It's surprisingly peaceful. There's nothing to do but wait for your girl to get better. 
“I missed you,” Steve says again, Beth hanging on his every word, “I can't remember the last time you spent so long away from home. Are you and mommy having a good time?” 
“My–” Beth struggles for words, her chest giving a weak wheeze, “my voice is funny.” 
“You think so?” He brings his legs up, eyes closing as Beth does the same. “Sounds the same to me.” 
You can't miss the way he's hugging her. You've never seen him so relieved. It lingers in his every touch, every word he says, even as he makes his silly jokes. 
Steve spends at least ten minutes like that laying with them before he looks up. “Ave, you still need the bathroom?” 
Avery jolts. “Thanks for reminding me!” She springs up on her feet. “Mom, will you come with me?” 
“Sure I will.” You stand with her, giving Wren a quick glance over before sidling up to the side of the bed. Steve looks up at you funny. “Steve?” 
“What?” 
You lean down to his ear. “Honey, will you stay with Beth tonight? Just so I can see the baby? I can't stand being away from Beth when she's sick, but I'm really worrying about her,” you whisper. 
Steve's eyes widen. “Are you sure?” 
He's not stupid. He knows what you're doing. 
You nod quickly. You could say a lot of things to him —of course I'm sure, you should've stayed two days ago, you've been so good letting me be here with her— but Avery tugs on your hand, winging, and you only have time to touch Beth's back. She'll be in good hands. 
Beth is upset to see you go that night, but she missed her dad. Steve hugs each of the girls in turn while Beth lays tucked in bed, even Robin, who laughs and complains about his touchiness and how it gets worse every year. You wait with them in your coat for your turn, sick to your stomach.
“I'll call you before nine,” he promises, squeezing you tightly. “You did such a good job, Y/N.” 
“...What, no joke about leaving it to the pro?” 
“I'm being thoughtful.” Steve kisses you, hugs you again, kisses you a second time. He can't decide what he's doing. “I love you. I'll see you in the morning.” 
You kiss his cheek. It takes you another fifteen minutes to leave, busy making Bethie promises. I'll see you tomorrow, I love you so much, brave girl, your dad's gonna take the best best best care of you ever. And then we're gonna spend the next week in bed so we can stop missing each other so much. 
573 notes · View notes
therobotmonster · 2 months
Text
I know I wasn't supposed to.
But I went into the woods.
Another me came out.
We seem to be equally suspicious that the other is the imposter. I keep checking him for roots and he keeps doing the same to me. Is it a double bluff? Is he gaslighting me into thinking I'm the neverwas thing and he's the human being with organs and anxiety? Is he truly unaware he's a mockery given shape? If he can be unaware of it, I can be too.
That's kind of a lonely thought, really.
-
It's been several days and the tests are all inconclusive. We both bleed normal blood that doesn't turn into a spider and jump to the ceiling when you touch it with a hot wire. We know the same trivia. We pretended to know the same stuff we forgot that we were embarrassed not to remember. We both got uncomfortable at the exact same time when we walked into the cathedral.
We arm wrestled and didn't tie somehow, but we weren't sure if winning meant he was more likely to be fake or less likely.
I worry that we don't really know anything about accursed other selves from the woods.
Wikipedia has been less than helpful.
-
Mom claims she knows which one of us is her 'first boy' but refuses to tell us on the basis that she loves us both and thinks we should get along.
He thinks she can't tell and is too embarrassed to tell us. I think its because she wants to double her chance at grandkids. The difference in opinion is interesting, but is it a sign of an imposter, or the divergence of our experiences?
-
We've decided to flip for the job. I won, so I don't have to find new work. I don't know if that's a win.
I think the curse is that neither one of us is an unnatural imposter out to kill the other. Or else whichever one of us is the monster has realized they don't think my life is worth killing to steal.
I know I think about smashing that copy of my own face open with a rusty fire axe, a gush of sea water and blasphemous screams roiling from the empty hole that should contain bone and brains, and it just seems like a lot of trouble and effort.
I think I'm going to start going by my middle name.
-
Another me just showed up on our doorstep.
He's caked in mud, sticks and twigs in his hair, babbling about harrowing experiences. I'm fixing him some tea while the other-other me hands him the pamphlet we made just in case.
Now he's telling us about the Night King. Like we don't know.
I need a bigger place.
390 notes · View notes
roosterforme · 3 months
Text
How Do You Feel About the Parking Lot? (Rooster x Reader)
Part of The What If Collection of blurbs for Roo and Baby Girl. My masterlist. Banner by @mak-32
Warnings: language, drinking, angst, fluff
Tumblr media
You were excited at first. Very excited. You showed off your ring to everyone and gushed over the fact that you were engaged. And while you were still wearing his mom's engagement ring, it was becoming obvious to Bradley that things were not quite as they should be.
"Hey," he said softly as he walked into the kitchen. It was exactly nine weeks ago that he'd proposed in the dining room and you'd happily accepted that ring that glittered on your finger right now. But tonight you just mumbled something at him without looking up from your computer where you sat at the island. It was nearly midnight on Friday, and he would have given anything for you to start planning this wedding with him. "Are you coming to bed soon? I thought we could talk about potential wedding dates."
"Oh," you replied without looking up at him. "I'm still putting this presentation together."
Bradley sighed. "Baby Girl, you've been working nonstop for weeks. I just want... a little bit of your time." He wanted a lot of things, actually. Like a long snuggle on the couch while you and he watched a movie, or a soak in the tub together. He'd love a blowjob or pinning your hands above your head while he slammed you into the bed. But mostly he'd love to plan his wedding to you, because more than anything, he wanted to get married this year. And it was already late September. 
You glanced up at him and adjusted your glasses. "How about tomorrow? I really need to get this done before my work trip."
"Sure," he whispered before pecking you on the cheek and heading off to climb into bed alone. 
But it only got worse from there. You worked all weekend. On Monday, you didn't come home until seven o'clock. Tuesday was eight o'clock. By Wednesday, he wasn't sure if you were even eating or sleeping any longer. And worse yet, you were leaving for Annapolis in a few days. Bradley wouldn't even see you for a week. Not that he really saw you now, he supposed. 
He ate a bowl of cereal for dinner before sinking down onto the couch with Tramp and a bottle of scotch. He turned on Real Housewives, but he wasn't really watching it. He took a sip, and it burned. But the next one didn't. And neither did the one after that. He started to feel better. But he'd stop when you got home. 
Another episode started, but it still wasn't holding his attention the way you would have, and that's when he realized it was once again seven o'clock, and you still weren't home. When his phone rang, he sloshed some of the alcohol onto his tee shirt reaching for it, and he was praying it was you calling to tell him you were on your way home. 
He pressed his lips together and then took a deep breath before he answered. "Hi, mom."
"Bradley! I haven't heard from the two of you in days! How's your lovely fiancée? And Tramp?"
The dog must have heard her voice through the phone, because he perked right up. But Bradley couldn't answer with anything other than a raspy, "Fine." 
The line went silent. "Are you sick? What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong, mom," he lied. "How are you? How's dad?"
"Well, I went to lunch with Brenda, and I got the scoop on all of her kids. And your dad needs hearing aids, but he keeps arguing with me about it. Maybe you can talk some sense into him, if he can even hear you."
"Okay," he replied, realizing the room had started spinning when he leaned back against the couch.
"Bradley, are you drunk?"
How could she possibly tell? His own wife-to-be couldn't seem to see what was going on, but Carole could tell by his voice from almost three thousand miles away. "I'm... fine, mom. I need to take Tramp for a walk. I love you and dad. Bye."
Then he ended the call, because he could feel tears in his eyes. And when you got home at nine, he was already asleep. 
-------------------------
You needed to go to happy hour with your boss and coworkers on Friday, but you really didn't want to. You'd been pulling twelve hour days, and you were so exhausted, you just wanted to climb into bed with Bradley and sleep until you left for Maryland on a Saturday night red eye flight. You also really needed to tell him that he had to lay off the wedding planning until you finished this work project. It was just a few months of all these extra hours, and you desperately wanted to be promoted. 
Your plan was to stop home quickly and change out of your uniform before heading back out with everyone to celebrate that fact that you were going to present your research at the Naval Academy. When you pulled into the driveway in your shitty, little red car, the Bronco was already there. But when you looked around the house for Bradley, you didn't immediately see him. But then you heard his voice through the open sliding glass door. He was sitting on the back patio in just his gym shorts with his back to the door and a half empty bottle of scotch set on his knee. 
His voice sounded miserable as he said, "I tried, mom. She just... doesn't seem to want to. I don't know what I did wrong." 
You froze in place. He had to be talking about you. Embarrassment and sadness filled you as you listened to what he said next. 
"I really wanted to get married this year."
You ran down the hallway to the bedroom as you fought off your tears. You had to get changed and go right now while you still could. In another week, you'd have a little more time to talk to him about the fact that you couldn't plan a wedding and get married in the next three months with your current schedule. 
You left the house again without talking to him, but he was still sitting on the patio on the phone. And when he dropped you off at the airport the following evening, he didn't seem to want to let you go as he whispered, "I love you, Sweetheart," and ran his thumb along your ring. 
"I love you too, Roo. I'll be home in a week, and then we can talk about maybe planning a wedding for next year?"
He swallowed hard and nodded. "If that's what you want."
---------------------------
When you landed in Maryland on Sunday morning, you were still exhausted and looking forward to crashing until your presentation on Monday. But Carole called you when you were at the baggage claim, and you knew you had to answer. A guilty feeling was about to eat you alive as you put on a bubbly voice and said, "Hi!"
"Have you arrived in Annapolis?" she asked straightaway, and you sighed because at least she didn't sound angry with you. 
"I did," you told her softly. "Still at the airport."
"Perfect," she replied. "I'll leave now, and I'll be there in less than fours hours, and we can go get lunch."
You were so stunned, you watched your bag go past without realizing you needed to pick it up. "You're going to drive up from Virginia?" you asked her slowly.
"Yes. I'm grabbing my keys right now. Bye, Goose! I'll be back later!" You listened to her call out to her husband, and then a few seconds later, you heard a door close and a car start. She was actually going to drive up here.
"Oh, okay," you muttered, pressing your lips together, embarrassed about where you'd left things with her son. "I'll... see you in a few hours."
You managed to take a short, restless nap while you waited for Carole to arrive. You changed into a simple dress and put on some makeup, but you didn't really feel any better until you met her at a restaurant in the city. She rushed down the sidewalk toward you with a bright smile on her face. "My sweet girl!" she called out, wrapping you up in a hug next to a few tables full of people enjoying their lunch outside. "It's been too long." She kissed your cheek and started to lead you inside. 
"Thanks for driving all the way up here," you told her, not bothering to fight the smile tugging your lips. She was absolute sunshine, and it was pointless to try to resist it. "You didn't have to do this."
"Nonsense," she said as the two of you made your way to a booth. "I wanted to see my future daughter-in-law."
You nodded and enjoyed some pleasant conversation. She told you all about Goose's appointment with an audiologist and about Brenda's kids. And after you finished your avocado toast and bowl of soup, she said, "Now, I think we should talk about what's really important."
Her voice wasn't unkind, and she was still smiling softly, but you knew what was coming as you whispered, "Okay."
Carole reached across the table and took your hand gently in hers. "I know you're smart and independent. And I also know that's part of why Bradley loves you so much. You don't need him. He's not offering you anything you can't get on your own or with someone else. You chose him, because you want him." Tears started to fill your eyes, and you had to swallow against the lump in your throat. "And he just wants you to be happy, so he would never tell you to your face that you're hurting him."
You tried to speak, but you just made a pathetic sound and started to sob. "I don't want to hurt him."
"I know you don't," she replied softly, squeezing your hand. "I know you're not trying to. But I think you need to tell him once and for all that you don't want to get married this year so he can finally get used to the idea of waiting a bit."
You buried your face in your free hand. Why were you trying to push it off anyway? It's not like you really cared where you got married or what the two of you were wearing. Planning some sort of huge celebration was not something you wanted to spend your time doing. You wanted to be with Bradley exactly as you were right now, just with two more rings and a certificate involved. 
When you looked up at Carole, you whispered, "I don't really think I actually want to wait. And I don't want you to hate me either."
"No," she gasped, standing and coming to sit next to your on your side of the booth. She kissed your tear streaked cheek and whispered, "I could never, my sweet darling girl. I think you just need to talk to Bradley, okay? Can you promise me you'll give him a few hours of your full attention? And maybe let him know how much he still means to you?"
"Yes," you croaked, and you let her hold you as you cried.
---------------------------
The week without you was kind of miserable. Bradley managed to dump the rest of the bottle of scotch at Carole's urging over the phone. And he did notice that she and Goose started calling with a bit more frequency which he didn't really mind. But the best part was that fact that you called him every night before you went to bed. 
Every time he answered your calls, his heart thundered in his chest. And as soon as he called you Sweetheart, he could practically hear you smiling through the phone. "I can't wait to pick you up on Friday," he said over and over. If he just felt like he mattered to you again, then he could wait until next year to get married. That was no big deal in the grand scheme of things.
But when he met you in baggage claim at San Diego International late on Friday night, he was so surprised, he could barely speak. You ran for him with a garment bag in your arms, but you let it fall to the floor when you reached him. "Roo," you moaned as soon as you were in his grasp. "I missed you so much." You kissed him deeply. "I just got off the phone with your mom again. And I didn't tell you before, but I went to see my friend Caleb a few days ago," you said as you smirked.
"The tattoo artist?" he asked as he kissed your cheek fifteen times. When you nodded he asked, "What's in the garment bag?"
"My wedding dress."
"Holy shit." He scooped it up off the floor and held it tight. "You bought a dress?" he asked, trying to hold you and the garment bag both to his chest at the same time.
"Yes," you told him matter-of-factly as you tugged him toward the exit while you kissed his lips. "How do you feel about getting married in the parking lot in two months?"
------------------------
329 notes · View notes
matryosika · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Incoming Call
Pairing — Hyunjin x fem!reader Wordcount — 3,394 words Genre — Smut (18+) Includes — Suggestive content. Smut warnings under the cut. Author's note — This honestly came out of the blue. I was just feeling like phone sex and exhibitionism and this is what I ended up writing, haha. I hope you like it, it's just a silly little drabble in which my writer's block didn't get the best of me. I am actually proud I could come up with something, but it's not as filthy as other of my works. Please remember that english is not my first language, so i apologize for any mistakes in advanced! If you wish to support my blog further, please reblog and comment, leave an ask and check my pinned post for my ko-fi!
Tumblr media
Smut warnings — Dirty talk. Phone sex and exhibitionism if you squint. Masturbation (m), Hyunjin is kind of a perv but it's very very tame. Use of petnames (baby), mentions of creampies, and other sexual fantasies. Hyunjin is needy and desperate. Reader's mom interrupts the hated moment (not cool!).
Tumblr media
Time zones. 
By far your most terrible enemies these days. 
It wasn't only the jet lag that threw you off from coming back home, but the abysmal time difference between you and your boyfriend —he goes to bed right before you wake up, and his most active time is when you are about to sleep. 
It has been a couple of days, but texting with him has been an absolute nightmare. 
“It’s only a week,” you reassured him as he waved you goodbye at the airport. His lower lip was slightly pouting, and his usually straight eyebrows were raised in a subtle furrow. “I’m sure you’ll live, Hyunjin”. 
“Yeah but I wanted to come with you,” there was genuine pity in his voice and you knew he meant it —he never misses a chance to join you on your trips back home, or meeting your parents.  
Because of how busy he has been, and the fact that this trip was practically nonexistent a week before, he just couldn't ask for a time off at work this time.
“We’re spending Christmas there this year,” you tried to cheer him up, rubbing his arm with solace, “time flies by, anyways”. 
Hyunjin nodded, resigning himself to the imminent struggle of being hours and miles apart from each other.
“Text me when you get there, yeah?” He planted a chaste kiss on your forehead and held you tightly. “Text me all the time, I’ll reply when I can, okay?”
You nodded against his chest, and kept his promise throughout the whole trip. 
You texted him when you got to your home country, and you also texted him a picture of your first meal there. You told him all about the weather, how happy your parents were to see you after a while and the things you missed the most.
He promised he would reply when he could, but you knew that wasn't going to happen any time soon. Or at least not for a couple of more hours, until he woke up.
And basically, that has been the whole dynamic all along —you text him everything about your day at a given time, and he texts you everything about his day at a given time as well. There's very little conversation happening in between, but it's understandable.
By day 3, Hyunjin learned to convert time zones. If it is morning for him, it is late afternoon for you. If it is his late night, you're probably just waking up.
He knows when to text you —if he is expecting a quick response— and knows when you're sleeping. Taking all that into account, Hyunjin tries to make the most of the time that's actually convenient for the two of you to talk.
[08:19 a.m., Hyunjin: Baby]
With furrowed eyebrows, your fingers type away faster than your mind can comprehend it. 
[08:19 a.m., You: Shouldn’t you be asleep?]
[08:19 a.m., You: Isn’t it like 11 p.m. in Seoul?]
He is a night owl. Always have been.
But he has been trying really hard to adopt a healthier sleeping schedule, so seeing him online past 10 p.m. it's unusual these days.
“Everything alright?” Your father asks, picking up on the subtle furrow of your brows.
“Yeah, I’m just talking to Hyunjin,” with your phone in one hand, and the other busy with a fork on your breakfast, you await his response. 
“It’s such a shame he couldn’t make it,” your mother adds, “it has been a while since we last met him”.
At that moment, when your mom and dad start talking about how great of a guy he is and how happy they’re to have him as part of the family, your phone vibrates yet again in your hand. 
[08:21 a.m., Hyunjin: Attachment: one image]
[08:21 a.m., Hyunjin: Can you see how much I miss you?]
If it wasn’t for the glass of water you smartly chugged down to hide your coughs, you would have choked on a piece of fruit. Inevitably, and after a failed attempt to conceal the embarrassing moment, your parents' eyes are fixed on you with concern.
“Sorry,” you excuse yourself, cleaning your lips with a napkin while you relentlessly try to put your phone away from anyone’s sight. 
“Are you alright?” your mother asks this time, softly hitting your back 
“Yes,” you nod swiftly. “I just- the food kind of went into the wrong pipe”. 
On your lap, your phone keeps vibrating —one after another, you lose count after message number 4.
[08:22 a.m., Hyunjin: God, I miss your body so much]
[08:22 a.m., Hyunjin: Just want you here for me. Don't want anyone else to have you right now] 
[08:23 a.m., Hyunjin: My hand isn't enough. It doesn't feel like your pussy does]
[08:23 a.m., Hyunjin: Can you come back to me now? Lay underneath me and let me have my way with you?]
[08:24 a.m., Hyunjin: You have no idea how fucking hard I am] 
You gulp loudly.
“What do you think?” It's only when your mother directs a question at you that you snap out of your trance. 
“Huh?”
“What do you think about spending Christmas in some beautiful cabins? They're like 45 minutes away from the city,” she continues, offering you some of the context you missed because of Hyunjin’s heated messages.
“Uh, yeah,” you reply with hesitation. Not because of the idea, but because you really can’t process anything other than the warmth between your legs. “I- uh, I have to go to the restroom”. 
For all he knows, you're lying comfortably in your bed as this is around the time you usually wake up. So damned you, for not letting Hyunjin know that today you are having breakfast with your family at a restaurant. And damned him for putting you into an awkward situation without even knowing of it.
[08:25 a.m., Hyunjin: Can I call you?]
[08:25 a.m., Hyunjin: Want to hear your voice]
[08:25 a.m., Hyunjin: Please, talk to me. Tell me anything you want. Just let me hear that pretty voice of yours]
[08:27 a.m., Hyunjin: Fuck it]
[08:27 a.m., Hyunijn: I’m calling you]
Good luck can’t be any more useful than right now, that you enter the restaurant’s restroom with your fingers crossed and an immense feeling of relief when you see every single stall open. 
And, as if on cue, the soft piano melody coming from your phone's speakers tells you that Hyunjin stuck up to his last message. 
“Are you busy?” It’s the first thing he says, with a hoarse voice and a hitched breath. 
“I’m at a restaurant,” you reply with just a little bit of shame in your tone. “With my parents”. 
Your boyfriend lets out an exasperated sigh.
“Shit I’m- I didn’t know, I’m sorry,” you can hear him panicking, maybe because he thinks you're upset. But in reality, it's all quite the opposite. “I’ll call you later just- forget I even- whatever, I’ll call you another time”. 
“No,” you rush to say, locking yourself into one of the bathroom stalls. “Don’t hang up, I can- I’m at the restroom”. 
There's a quick seconds of silence from the other line as Hyunjin gathers the remaining coherent thoughts after getting to hear your voice. “Is it- are there other people there?”
“For now it’s just me,” you reassure him.
“Just you?” He asks, and you hum in response. “I’m sorry for calling it’s just- God, I can’t spend another day without you”. 
The wet, sloppy slow sounds paired with the laziness of his voice can only give you a hint of what he is doing.
“Are you- masturbating?” 
It's not like you're a prude, but this whole thing is taking you by surprise. You're always together, so there's no need for phone sex or anything of that sort. Sexting isn’t unusual, but this is definitely a first.
“Yeah,” he replies with a raspy scoff. “Want me to stop?”
“No, I- no,” when you encourage him to continue, the lewd, wet sounds start to become more and more frequent —increasingly loud for you to hear them, “keep going”. 
Hyunjin lets out a deep sigh of frustration.
“Do you miss me too?” he asks, biting down his lower lip to prevent any whimpers from falling from them. 
“Yes,” with shortness of breath you admit. “I miss you too,”.
“Yeah?” He whispers under his breath, letting small grunts make their way to your ears. “I miss you badly. Can’t stop thinking about you- shit, can’t stop thinking about how pretty you look when you’re naked in my bed”. 
The compliments, all together, make your cheeks and body grow hotter. But inevitably, they force you to fix your gaze under the bathroom stall, in that little gap between it and the floor. There’s no sound nor signals of footsteps approaching, but the adrenaline of hearing him say such dirty things when you're out in public is definitely a new experience.
You can't say you hate it.
“Baby,” Hyunjin moans. And although you can’t see it, you can take a wild guess what he looks like right now: head kicked back, legs spread, his hand and dick glistening with lube, or lotion, or maybe spit. You can picture how pretty his face is right now, contorted in pleasure, with his lips all swollen from licking and biting them, eyes completely white while he bucks his hips up against his fist. “Talk to me, tell me about your plans for the day”.
You can’t help but laugh a little in the midst of the tension. 
“You want me to- talk about my day while you masturbate?”
“Well,” he scoffs under his breath. “I don’t expect you to say dirty stuff while you’re locked in a public restroom where anyone can walk in”. 
“Right,” you nod to yourself. “But I don't understand what that would do for you”. 
“I like your voice,” your boyfriend lets out a deep exhale of relief. “I can get off just by listening to it, doesn’t matter what you’re talking about”.
“You’re crazy,” a soft chuckle falls from your lips. “You’re not even going to pay attention to me”.
“Please?” you can hear a small whimper, and that alone convinces you. 
“Okay well,” you clear your throat before continuing, wondering how this could arouse him. But he is asking you something that is nowhere near difficult, so you comply. “I’m having breakfast with my parents right now”. 
“Aha,” Hyunjin hums, and if you play close attention you can hear his hand sliding up and down his cock. All you're left with is your imagination. “Keep going”.
“I will meet with a friend later, we’re going to grab some coffee”. 
Despite the weirdness of it all, there's something enticing about knowing he is using you, in some way, to get off. You're only talking about your day. But knowing your boyfriend is masturbating to the sound of your voice is arousing.
“Then I’ll go back home, get some work done,” you continue. “Think about you, think about how much I miss you right now”. 
The line goes silent, except for a mixture of gasps and groans. 
“You’re going to think about me?” Hyunjin asks, his silky voice sending shivers down your spine. “You’re going to touch yourself thinking about me?”
“Yes,” of course he doesn't expect you to talk dirty to him. But that never meant he couldn't say that kind of stuff to you. At that, you're at a disadvantage. No matter how turned on you're getting, there's nothing you can do about it and Hyunjin sort of feels thrilled because of it.
“You’re going to fuck my pussy with those fingers of you?”
God, how much you hate him for that. How he talks about your body as if it is his, reminding you that you belong to him and him only. 
You only hate it because it never fails to arouse you.
“Y-yes Hyune,” you reply, swallowing thickly. You're aware you can't say anything too obscene, but you still can engage in that kind of conversation without airing yourself too much. “Or should I- use something else?” 
“You packed your toys?” your boyfriend lets out a satisfied groan at your hum of agreement. You two are just so alike. “Which one are you using tonight, baby?”
“The transparent one”.
“The transparent one?” he thinks about it for a second, and immediately remembers which one you're referring to. “Thought you were going for the wand because it's your favorite, but I'm guessing you miss feeling full?”
“Aha,” you exhale. “Yes, I- miss it so bad”.
“You miss my cock stretching that tight pussy of yours?” At that, the wet movements become louder. “Stretch it nice and open for me baby, make sure to prep yourself every day for when you get back”. 
You bite your nails. “What’s going to happen when I get back?”
The answer is rather obvious, but you want to hear it from him.
“I’m going to make you come until you pass out,” Hyunjin bites his lips and kicks his head back, reminiscing all those times where you’ve come around his cock, fingers and tongue. “Make it up to you for all the days you've been away”. 
You can feel the pooling wetness in your underwear, the minimum squeeze of your thighs against each other is a constant reminder of it. 
“You miss my lips against your pussy like I do?” he asks, letting out a liberating gasp. “You miss tasting yourself off of me while we kiss?”
“You know I do,” you gulp loudly, caressing your lips with the tip of your fingers. God, how much you miss feeling his against yours.
They’re so soft, and velvety, and they know exactly how to kiss and bite you.
“I’m so close,” Hyunjin announces, and you feel your nipples hardening underneath your underwear at the despair in his voice. “I just- wish you were here, want to come all over your face, and body, make you swallow me full”. 
You want to say something, anything, but his words have much of a chokehold on you. You'll give anything to taste him, to kneel in front of him right now and open your mouth wide for him. 
You miss his taste, miss kissing him afterwards in between whines and grunts.
“I would grab your hair really tightly,” he explains, increasing the speed of his sounds. “I’d push my cock deep inside that pretty mouth of yours, have you gagging and drooling all over it”. 
Between his overwhelming words, and the loud sound of someone barging through the door of the restroom, you mutter a quick "can't talk anymore" before going completely silent.
“Honey, are you okay?”
Shit. 
You close your eyes, trying to focus on both parts: Hyunjin’s moans, and the way your mother is standing right outside your bathroom stall.
“It has been like 10 minutes, your father and I got worried”.
Your boyfriend lets out a teasing scoff, one that only you can hear.
“She’s asking you a question,” Hyunjin murmurs, still with a hitched breath. “Aren’t you going to answer?”
“I’m fine,” you rush to say. “Just- having a stomachache”. 
“Why didn’t you tell me? I’ve got some medicine in my bag,” of course she did. She always does, ever since you were little.
“Maybe you should tell her the truth,” the voice from the other line calls. “Tell her that you’re busy making me come”.
Immediately, your eyes open like plates and you wonder if the sound of the phone is too loud  for your mom to hear it inside the quiet restroom. 
“I forgot!” you snap, practically yell out loud. “I forgot you carried those with you”.
“Want me to bring them to you?”
You hear the faucet running, and Hyunjin chuckling slowly. At least she isn’t standing right outside the stall, but you’re still not at ease. 
“Y-yeah, please,” on the line, Hyunjin is waiting for the perfect moment to interrupt. 
Those two words are enough to send him to the edge. Despite the lack of sexual connotations, hearing you beg for anything it’s enough to arouse him.
“Ah, but I’ll have to bring you some water too,” your mother explains. “Maybe you can have it when you return to the table?”
“No!” You insist, all in an attempt to kick her away from the restroom. “Please, I need it right now. Please?” 
“Are you going to beg for me like that too?” Hyunjin groans through the line, not caring if anyone can hear him. Also not caring about interrupting your conversation. “Are you going to open your legs for me and beg for my dick like you’re begging right now?”
You almost choke on your own saliva, but the feeling quickly goes away when you hear your mother mutter an “okay, alright” before walking out the restroom door with a mission of easing your fake stomach ache.
“I almost get caught,” you gasp, only when a couple of seconds pass after she leaves. 
“Then hang up,” his shakily breath only tells you he is not that far from coming. Especially after hearing your voice again, pleading for whatever it was you were asking. 
“No,” you shake your head. “Want to hear you, please”. 
“Want to hear how I come for you?” he chuckles. “Want to her how I moan your name while I come thinking about how much I wish I was fucking you?”.
In a whisper, you hum quietly. 
“So dirty,” he is getting closer. “So, so f-fucking dirty. I can tell you’re enjoying this, even while you're out in public. Maybe you'll like it if i were to fuck you right there, while your parents wait for us at the table?”. 
You cover your mouth in surprise, trying to muffle a gasp.
“I would love to come inside you right now, pull up your panties and force you to spend the rest of the day with my cum leaking out of you,” he lets out another loud, choked groan before continuing to elaborate on the fantasy. “You'd be so wet, you wouldn't know if you're turned on or it's just my cum”.
“You’re insane,” you whisper under your breath.
“Yeah?” Hyunjin asks teasingly, slurring his words in between moans. “I know you are too, baby. I don’t even need to take a look at you to know you’re probably dripping just by my words, right?”
Damned him.
“And I know I’m not too out of my mind when I say you would let me fuck you right then and there, where everyone could hear you and anyone could walk in,” at that, the lewd noises increase. “Might even let me finger you underneath the table, right? Bet you would love to have my fingers deep inside you while you try to pretend you don’t”. 
“And I know I’m not too out of my mind when I say you would let me fuck you right then and there, where everyone could hear you and anyone could walk in,” at that, the lewd noises increase. “Might even let me finger you underneath the table, right? Bet you would love to have my fingers deep inside you while you try to pretend you don’t”. 
Oh you're definitely going to cancel all your plans for the day. Might even book an early fly.
Anything, just to see him soon.
“God,” Hyunjin exhales, and it’s between quiet moans that you realize he is coming. “F-fuck, ‘m coming so fucking much”.
You can picture it. His tone abdomen all glistening with sweat and cum, shining brightly underneath the dim light of your room. His cock is probably red, and swollen, and twitching while he overcomes his high.
Fuck, damned be Hyunjin for making you ruin your panties this early in the morning.
“So much,” he repeats, fingers trailing the lines of his abdomen as he collects his arousal off of it. “Too sad it went to waste, I would’ve preferred to fuck it back inside of you”.
“I hate you,” you finally breathe, both in relief and frustration. “I hate how much I miss you”.
“Then come home soon,” your boyfriend pouts.
And honestly? You might.
499 notes · View notes
moon-rivr · 6 months
Text
falling behind part 2
Tumblr media
pairing: college miguel o’hara x spanish speaking fem reader (translation provided 🫡)
warnings: oral (f and m receiving), fingering (p and anal 🫣), some angst (?), and implied cheating (not from reader)
author’s note: so while i was gonna make this fluffy and cute, frank ocean made me cry so here’s this 🤗 (if you sent a request, i’ll be working on those 👩🏻‍🍳)
word count: 4.1k
falling behind part one
You looked up at Miguel dumbfounded as he finished speaking, unsure if you'd heard him correctly. You'd spent the last weeks using Miguel as your fantasy when you buried your fingers to the hilt in your wet cunt and imagining him snapping to the realization that he wanted you, but you weren't expecting him to go right out and say he wanted you. You'd conformed to the idea of not being able to experience being in love soon that you didn't know what to do with this information. So, you decided to jump to the next possible conclusion which was that he didn't want anyone else to clutter their space in the apartment.
"If you're worried about me bringing them back home, you don't have to. I'll keep my dating life outside of the apartment," you assured him, his brows furrowed as he looked down at you. He brought his hand up to your chin, holding your gaze as a storm brewed behind his eyes. He was telling you so much with that look but not nearly enough to satisfy your desires. "You're not understanding me. I don't want you to see anyone else because I've developed a liking towards you. I want to be more than friends with you," he told you, his thumb gently stroking your cheek as he spoke.
The idea that he wanted you in the same way that you wanted him didn't process in your mind just yet so you blurted out, "Like best friends?"
Miguel let out a laugh as you spoke, his eyes crinkling up with amusement. "You're so smart when it comes to school and so clueless when it comes to feelings, chaparra. I don't want to be just your best friend. I want us to start going on real dates and be able to kiss without the reassurance that it's only because we're in public," he told you, his eyes holding that same intensity as before. You were about to tell him about everything that could go wrong between the two of you, that it wouldn't work because you two were roommates, but he held your hand with the one that wasn't on your cheek like he knew the internal turmoil you were going through.
"We don't have to jump in and go into a relationship, we can take it slow. Tell me that you didn't enjoy those dates we had and I'll leave it alone," he spoke to you softly, not making any sudden movements like you were a frightened kitten. The truth was, you didn't admit it to yourself how much you liked those dates because of the lingering reminder that it was all just a façade, an act. You greatly appreciated the fact that he was willing to take things slow just for you, a stark comparison of his hot and cold relationship with Dana. "Okay, we can take things slow," you told him, his face breaking out into a smile as you did.
Which is how you found yourself getting ready with Miguel for a quinceañera that your aunts were hosting. You were surprised that they still wanted anything to do with you after what happened with the last party, but you figured it was probably your mom's doing since she'd been the one to send you the invitation. While you weren't exactly too eager to go, you couldn't turn down the opportunity of getting leftovers to bring back. Miguel was zipping up your dress from behind, struggling a bit with the zipper given the size comparison with his hands. He finished up a couple seconds later before he retreated back to his room and you could hear some shuffling around in there. You didn't pay too much attention to it as you put a headband on, pushing your hair away from your face before you started with your makeup.
Miguel came back into your room and tapped your shoulder before you had the chance to get started. "Hey Miguel, what's up?" You asked him, not noticing the box he was holding in his hands. He gestured towards the box and you grabbed it from him, opening it slowly. The box contained a couple high-end makeup products along with a couple of brushes and a step by step tutorial book. You looked up at him, completely bewildered that he remembered how much you struggled with your makeup last time. "Before you worry about the cost or anything, I'm getting promoted at Alchemax soon to an actual job. and I went off with the shades you had right now, but if there's anything that you don't like, i can give you the receipt so you can exchange it," he told you, his hands moving along as he talked like he was nervous you wouldn't like it.
You got up from the chair you were sitting at and wrapped your arms tightly around him, thankful that he'd even taken the effort to go to these lengths. "You didn't have to do that, thank you," you whispered as he returned the embrace, his hand rubbing small circles on your back. "Well, we can't have you crying over your eyeliner again," he remarked, giving you a small kiss on the cheek before he left the room, presumably to get dressed. You felt like a giddy little kid as you took out the products from the box, noticing the little details that Miguel had put towards making this. Not only had he adorned the box with some cute little hearts, he'd also made sure that the shades matched and that they were good for your skin type.
You followed the steps from the book he’d gotten you, and found that it was surprisingly easy to follow along. "How do I look?" You asked Miguel, and his eyes widened as he saw you come out your room. "You look gorgeous. I mean, that word's not really powerful to really bask in what you look like, but you fried all the vocabulary in my brain," he rambled and you let out a laugh as you walked over to him. "Well, you look pretty handsome too," you remarked given that he'd taken some effort into cleaning up, putting on a black button down shirt and dress pants. He extended his hand and led you out the apartment to his car, rushing to open the door before your fingertips even had a chance to touch the handle.
"So I basically know everything about you, but one thing I don't know about you is your favorite song," he spoke up in the middle of the ride, completely taking you by surprise. You didn't play that much music around him since he was always in control of the aux, not that you minded. You grabbed the aux cord that was dangling from his fingers and scrolled through your playlist, trying to find the song. You instantly found it and soon, the atmosphere was filled with the music playing. His hand was tracing small circles on your thigh as he drove, maneuvering the wheel with one hand. Once the song ended, he turned to look at you with a small smile. "Should let you have the aux more often, that was pretty good."
You wanted the ground to swallow you as soon as you walked into the party hall, the stares of your aunts practically turning into daggers. "Wow, they really don't like me, huh?" Miguel whispered in your ear and you couldn't help but let out a small laugh as you held his hand. "I don't know, they're probably staring at you because you're a respectful handsome man," you teased, stopping in your tracks when your mom came up to you. "¡Mija!" she exclaimed, holding you tightly for a hug. "Hola mami, ¿cómo estás?" you greeted her, trying to hide how uncomfortable you really were here. (hi mommy, how are you) She went to go talk to Miguel after greeting you and you were left alone to deal with your aunts.
You stayed quiet for a couple seconds as you worked out the best way to apologize to them, their stares practically daring you to say something. "Yo sé que la manera en que lo dijo no estaba bien y les falto al respeto, pero es que ustedes lo unico que hacen es juzgarme por todo," you told them as you set down your glass of Coke, watching their gazes soften up a bit at the realization. (i know that the way he said it was wrong and he was disrespectful, but all you guys do is judge me for everything) "No te queríamos hacer sentir mal, mija. Ya entedemos que todo es a su debido tiempo, y lo sentimos que te molestabamos tanto por lo de no tener novio," one of your aunts spoke up and the other ones quickly nodded along, pursing their lips together. (we didn't want to make you feel bad. we understand that everything is at it's time, and we're sorry for bothering you so much about not having a boyfriend) You nodded and noticed that their gazes quickly went behind you, their faces souring a bit.  "Les quería dar una disculpa por faltarles al respeto. No era mi lugar," Miguel spoke up behind you and you could tell that you aunts appreciated that he put his pride aside. (i wanted to apologize to you all for disrespecting you. it wasn't my place)
The tensions in the air dissipated as soon as your aunts got some alcohol in their system, practically giggling over every word that Miguel was telling them. Miguel got along quite well with your family and you saw a glimpse of something that'd he been missing. He didn't have the best relationship with his family, only his brother, so you got a chance to see him get involved with yours. The quinceañera had even asked him to dance with her, pulling you to the side after and whispering, "Damn girl, he's hot!"
"Think they like you more than they like me," you told him once you two got in the car and his eyes crinkled up again as he laughed. "I think the damas were staring at me the whole time. Too bad I only have eyes for you, chula," he whispered, kissing your cheek as he pulled out of the parking spot. The drive back home was mostly quiet but you couldn't help but feel a sense of joy that things with your family had been resolved and that they ended up liking Miguel.
Your relationship after that continued to grow strong and it felt like a breath of fresh air when you compared it to your past experiences. While you had some experience talking with men in this generation, you were afraid to get too committed to them after what your friends had divulged with you. Miguel was the opposite of everything that they'd described, he was kind and patient, he treated you with respect, and most importantly he never made you second guess his feelings towards you.
A couple of months pass by and soon enough it was time for you to study for your finals, since physics wasn't exactly your strongest subject. You came back home after two hours with your tutor, slumping on the couch as you turned on some random Hallmark movie that was playing. You were starting to drift off when you heard the door open and Miguel call out, "Hey, are you ready for our date tonight? I just need a couple minutes to get dressed!"
With the amount of velocity equations that were running through your head, you had forgotten about the date night that you and Miguel had planned out. You got up from the couch, looking at him apologetically since you were still in your pajamas. "Sorry, I just got back from tutoring and i forgot about our date. I can go and change if you still wanna go though," you told him, rubbing the side of your neck awkwardly. You were pretty sure the exhaustion on your face was evident since he said, "How about we cancel that and just stay home? Just us, takeout, and whatever corny Hallmark movie you're watching." "I'd like that, thank you."
Miguel changed into his pajamas after and went to sit down with you on the sofa, slowly drawing circles on your thigh as you leaned your head against his shoulder. He'd only gotten up to receive the takeout and get some plates for the two of you, setting them down on the coffee table. "Thank you, I know this isn't what you had planned for us today," you told him and he looked up from what he was doing. "Hey, don't worry about it. I get that you're tired," he responded, going back to sitting down on the couch with you.
After the two of you had finished eating, Miguel turned to look at you, his hand still drawing lazy circles on your thigh. "How was your tutoring?" he asked, setting down his cup of Coke on the table. "It was good, my brain's all fried from all these variables though," you muttered, rubbing your temples as you tried to relax. You'd been stressing out over your physics final over the last few days, but you'd been careful not to let that seep in too much in your relationship. He got on his knees in front of you, resting his head against your thigh as he looked at you. "How about I help you de-stress?"
Your fingers wound up in his hair as his tongue slurped and sucked your pussy, collecting all the juices that had leaked out. The thoughts of your exam began to drift away, replaced by the euphoria you felt at having Miguel eat you out like this. He planted his hands on your thighs and spread you out like you were his meal, his mouth solely working to provide you with the pleasure that you desperately needed. He looked up at you as his tongue went into your weeping hole, using it to fuck your pussy and you couldn't help but let out desperate moans. "Mmph, right there!" You moaned out, your hips thrusting against his mouth eagerly.
His mouth connected itself to your clit and his thumb gently probed at your puckered hole while his index finger went inside of your pussy. You had him everywhere and it was starting to feel like it was too much, yet somehow not enough. Your walls engulfed his finger as he thrust inside your pussy, curling to hit your g-spot despite how much you were clenching up against him. He thrust the two fingers at the same pace, slowly opening you up to him so as to not cause you any discomfort. His mouth pulled at your clit gently before he went to drawing small circles with his tongue. "Too much, Miguel!" You cried out, your fingers tightly wound up in his hair. You'd never been filled up like this before and you felt an orgasm building up rather quickly.
Your whines came to a crescendo as you came, your fingers practically digging into Miguel’s roots. He pulled both fingers out, careful not to hurt you as he did. You took a moment to catch your breath, glancing over to see that Miguel’s cock was tenting up in those sweatpants that he'd chosen to wear. You got down on your knees, looking up at him as you took off his pants. "Tell me what to do, okay?" You asked him, given the fact that the only experience you had was from reading smut. He nodded, lifting up his legs so you'd slide the pants out easier.
Your eyes widened as you took in the sheer size of his cock, quickly realizing why Dana often yelled when Miguel had her over. You wrapped your mouth around his cock, struggling to just take the head in and you looked up at him for some kind of reassurance that you were doing it okay. "You're taking it so well for me, beautiful. Keep your tongue on the tip, that's the sensitive part," he spoke softly to you despite the fact that his eyes were glossed over in complete lust. You nodded and focused on just swirling your tongue around his tip, occasionally running it against the slit as his hands wound up on the back of your head. “Yeah, that’s it. Good girl, baby.”
You hollowed your cheeks and you were able to take more of his cock in your mouth, your hands working at the base. You tightened up the grip, matching the tightness that your mouth was providing as you stroked him. He let out soft moans as you did, his hips bucking into you by accident. You gagged as you struggled to keep him that far in your mouth, tears forming in your eyes but you didn't want to give up. You started to bob your head up and down, sucking on the sides like you'd seen some women in porn do, and swirling your tongue around the tip once more.
Miguel’s grip on your hair intensified as you started to play with his balls, gently squeezing and pulling them in your hand while the other one focused on stroking him. "You were made for this cock, mi reina. Keep going, i'm about to cum," he spoke, his voice breaking at the last part as he let out a moan. He came with a guttural grunt, his cum filling your mouth up. You looked up at him innocently as you swallowed the somewhat salty cum and he couldn't help but let out a small chuckle. You looked so pretty with tears in your eyes and your tongue coated white with his cum.
You weren't sure if it was the night you spent with Miguel or if your studying had paid off, but you found that the physics final wasn't as hard as you were making out to be. You walked out of your lecture hall, excited to go back home and see Miguel before he had to go to class that you almost missed the person tapping your shoulder. You turned around to face them, your eyes immediately brightening up as you realized that it was Miguel.
"What are you doing here, baby?" You asked him, his hand instinctively finding yours as he held it. "I came here to take you out for coffee, you've been working pretty hard and I'm sure it's paid off," he responded, starting the walk to the local coffee shop near campus. "Y'know, you don't have to do all these things," you told him, though you felt your love for him grow more and more with every single one of these gestures. "Well, no one has to do things but I want to show you how much I really appreciate you."
The two of you sat at a booth at the coffee shop, mainly just talking about your physics final and he was relieved to find out that you didn't find it too difficult. "Have you heard back from the job at Alchemax?" You asked him, taking a sip from your drink. "I haven't, they're still interviewing some candidates but I'm hoping that I'll get the job. Either way, the man's job I'm supposed to be getting hasn't retired just yet," he responded, a relaxed tone to his voice as he spoke. "I’m sure you'll get it, they'd be stupid not to hire you," you reassured him and he let out a small smile.
The two of you spent most of the afternoon at the coffee shop before he had to head back to campus for his classes. He was about to walk out of the door with you when someone stopped him, tapping his shoulder. You both turned around to see Dana standing there with a cheeky grin on her face. "Sorry to bother you two, but I just had something really important to discuss with Miguel. Alone," she told the two of you and he turned to look at you, his brows slightly furrowed. You nodded and he walked away with her, mouthing 'help me' as he did. You let out a small little giggle before you folded your arms, feeling a bit insecure now that they were talking.
You wanted to go and eavesdrop on their conversation but quickly decided against it. You didn't want to project your own insecurities onto the relationship and you figured that he needed a bit of privacy. You couldn't help but feel nervous though as the conversation went on, noticing that Dana was giggling after she finished speaking. Miguel came back with a sullen look on his face, walking next to you. "Hey, is everything okay?" you asked him once you were far from the coffee shop and he nodded, bending down to kiss your cheek before he headed to class.
You'd gotten invited to a end of the year party and you were looking forward to going mostly because of the free booze and a chance to finally release some much needed steam. You looked up at Miguel as he got back home from your spot on the couch, giving him a small smile. "How'd class go?" You asked him and he shrugged, retreating to his room. You couldn't help but feel like maybe you'd done something wrong, but you realized that he'd been acting that way since he left the coffee shop. You decided to leave the subject alone since you didn't want to intrude on his conversation with Dana.
You finished up getting ready for the party a couple hours later and you decided to knock on Miguel’s door to see if he wanted to join you. He opened the door, looking down at you with his brows furrowed. "What do you want?" he asked, rather coldly and you couldn't help but frown a bit at his tone. "I just wanted to know if you wanted to come to the party with me," you told him, keeping your gaze on him as you spoke. "I can't. I'm actually going out tonight with some of my friends, so don't wait up for me," he told you before shutting the door in your face.
You tried to loosen up at the party but your mind kept going back to the way that Miguel had acted towards you, like you didn't matter. Even when you were just friends, he didn't treat you that way ever. You ended up just taking a couple shots of tequila before calling a night, heading back to an empty apartment. Even though he'd told you not to wait up for him, a part of you couldn't resist and you settled on the sofa with a romance novel.
You were half asleep when you heard the door click, Miguel coming in to see you laying down on the couch. "I thought I told you not to wait up for me," he told you, letting out a small scoff. You frowned when you smelled some woman's perfume lingering on his clothes, but you decided to not say anything. He'd never given you a reason to make you think that he was being unfaithful to you, so you just trusted that it was one of the friends that he was out with. "Sorry, I was just hoping that maybe we could have a talk," you told him, playing with your fingers as you spoke. "I'm kinda tired right now, can we do that later? Thanks," he responded, leaving you completely disappointed in the living room as he walked away.
A couple days later, you decided to get some takeout since you knew that you and Miguel were fairly busy lately. You hoped that you could be able to have a conversation with Miguel before he shut you out again, but those thoughts were quickly darkened when you heard moaning coming out of Miguel’s room. You figured that he was just watching porn since two hadn't gone all the way yet, but you realized that the song you'd shown him in the car was playing in the background. "OH MIGUEL!" You heard a feminine voice squeal and you almost dropped the fork you were holding.
Dana's moans bled through the walls as you sat in your bed, struggling to grasp the situation, that your best friend and the man you'd trusted to be your first boyfriend had just betrayed you like that. You were replaying the events from your relationship, trying to figure out what you'd done wrong or what you could've done better before getting up. You wiped away the tears out of your eyes as your favorite song faintly played in the background, Dana's moans drowning out the music. Bile built up in the back of your throat as you got up from the bed, the smell of the takeout now making you nauseous. You walked over to Miguel’s room and knocked on the door, unable to take this any longer and waited for a response.
@ayamaiis @innercreationflower
443 notes · View notes
xinmin-exe · 3 months
Text
Attack On Titan characters as Parents
Note: I haven't really watched attack on titan in years, so I'm sure all of these characters are gonna be OOC ALSO i am making it so everyone survived in the end and they all got their happy ending because these babies deserve it
WARNINGS: fem!reader, brief mentions of past trauma, mentions of miscarriage, very brief mention of the birthing process,
Eren
Eren was so traumatized after what his father did, he almost had a break down when you told him you were pregnant. It took him a couple weeks, and many, many late night talks with Armin until he was willing to try to be there for you. Eren was so nervous and worried he was going to be just like his father but the moment he saw his kid, everything just clicked. He was so gentle with them and always made time to talk and play with them during the day. As they got older, their bond grew even closer as Daddy and Aunt Mikasa took them out hunting every couple of weeks. Eren is an amazing father who despite everything he went through, made damn sure to do better for his child.
Armin
Armin never imagined having children, it just wasn't something he saw in his future. that was, until you came into his life and changed everything. When your little bundle of joy was born, Armin was in tears. He couldn't help but admire them and want to give them everything. Since then, Armin has done everything to nurture their ideas and passions. He even took them to the sea and let them play around. He wanted them to grow up with everything he couldn't have (aka, parents) so he did everything he could to stick around. Armin turned down multiple high government positions just to stay close to you and his child. Armin is the parent we all need in our lives.
Mikasa
When you approached Mikasa with the idea of wanting to adopt, she was speechless. Ever since her parents were killed, she never thought about having children. However, she loved you so much that she wanted to at least try. After all, she wasn't exactly motherly (at least that's what she will tell people) When Hange introduced you two to a young child (maybe 5 or 6) from the underground Mikasa's heart melted. She saw herself in this child so much that her protective instincts kicked in. She was so protective of this child, no one, and i mean no one besides you could be left alone with them. Even if it was armin or Eren, Mikasa was always in the room, one second away from glaring the other person into the next century. Mikasa really warmed up to the idea of being a parent and fit into the role well.
Jean
Jean was the one of the only in the group who wanted to still have kids. He knew what he wanted from life and was damned if some suicidal maniac was going to stop him. So when you were giving birth, Jean made sure he was right next to you, holding your hand and encouraging you the entire time. Even though you did scream at him "this is your fault! If i live through this i am going to KILL you Kirstein!" (the nurses thought that it was funny) But once your child was here, nothing else mattered. Once you were able to leave the hospital and go home, all Jean did was take your kid around and show off. Constantly saying "look at what i did" or "aren't they just gorgeous like their mom?" He always had something to brag about (even if the thing wasn't brag worthy), to Jean, anything your child did was amazing. Jean is very much the parent to scream at the back of the room while their kid is performing and embarrass the shit out of them.
Connie
Connie hadn't given having kids much thought. Afterall, he didn't even know if he'd be surviving long enough to be given that option. But once you told him you were pregnant, he was over the moon! Connie didn't let you move a muscle, ever. You need something from the top shelf? He's getting the stepstool. You want some food? He's already getting the ingredients out. And when you went into labor, he was right by your side. He let you squeeze his hand as hard as you needed to, and he made sure you were given everything possible to make birth as comfortable as it could be. Connie was so overwhelmed with love once he laid eyes on your child, the only time he let you hold them was when they needed to be fed. Connie got up to soothe them during the night, claiming it was the least he could do since you went though the pain of giving birth. Connie was there at every single milestone for their life, and he was never, ever going to stop being there for them; or for you.
Sasha
Oh boy, Sasha is the cool mom. When you two first adopted your child, she was admittedly a little awkward around them. But, after many late night snacks and a few bad cooking experiences, Sasha blossomed into a wonderful mom. She made sure they were eating properly and always had snacks on her. Your kids friends know that they will eat good when Sasha is around, and you two have become THE family. Sasha does tend to spoil them and say "yes" practically every time they ask for something, but they never try to manipulate that. You and Sasha both make sure your kid is kind and humble and thoughtful. With Sasha at your side, nothing is impossible and raising a child together was the best decision you two ever made.
Levi
Levi initially turned down the idea of having kids. Claiming that he was not fit to be a father, but fate wasn't having it. When you found out you were pregnant, you were worried to tell Levi. You knew he didn't want kids and you had grown to be content with that. What would he say when he found out? Would he leave you? Those thoughts sent you spiraling when Hange eventually let the cat out of the bag. Levi was silent but you could see in his eyes that was he happy. Even though he didn't want kids, he knew he wanted you. If that meant having to raise another brat then so be it. At first, he did the basics, changed their diapers, fed them, etc. But he never truly bonded with them until they were older and confided to Levi that they felt like an outsider looking in. He listened and did his best to offer advice and words of wisdom that might help. From then on, Levi was so much more involved and made sure that they were getting the life they deserved.
Erwin
Erwin was possibly the most excited to be a father. After everything, when things began settling down he approached you with the idea of trying for kids. At first you were the hesitating one, but Erwin was able to convince you to at least think about it. After a while, you were on board and baby, he got to work. It was along road, you had a miscarriage and that was demoralizing. Erwin made sure to support you the entire time. He understood that you may not want to try again and he was okay with that. It took you a year or so after for you to want to try again. But eventually, with enough effort and support, you gave birth to a beautiful baby. Erwin was in love with your child the moment he laid eyes on them. He spoiled them as much as he could, whenever he could. He was a dotting husband, and even more dotting father.
Hange
Oh boy, Hange is.. enthusiastic to say the least. They see it as a new experiment, at first. Hange takes your pulse every day, they measure how much you eat as well as your weight. When you gave birth, they were overwhelmed. There was a beautiful little bundle wrapped up in your arms and all Hange wanted was to hold them. Hange was so careful that you almost had to do a double-take. They held your child so gently, like glass. From then on, it was like the whole world vanished for them. They prioritized being there and being a parent over anything. Hange recorded all the milestones (first steps, first word, first tooth, etc) but they also recorded every other moment (like when they babbled for the first time, or when they first rolled over). But to Hange, they were all important moments.
268 notes · View notes
cupid-styles · 7 months
Text
you're my last shot
Tumblr media
second blurb of my fall/halloween series ! this one honestly has nothing to do with halloween but imagine it happens in fall :) there will be a halloween-themed blurb for them coming on sunday!
word count: less than 1,000
content warnings: pregnancy, discussion pertaining to abortion (no action taken)
masterlist | talk to me
fall blurb masterlist
. . .
Y/N isn't quite sure when she and Harry started hating each other so much.
It's been months, probably. Maybe a year? She doesn't really remember; all she knows is that the second he melded into their friend group, she thought he was cocky and annoying, flirting with every person who so much even looked his way, and she didn't like that. She didn't like him. 
The mutual hatred between them was fine up until now, but... now, it seems like it's a major inconvenience, because Y/N is standing in her bathroom staring down at four positive pregnancy tests and Harry — she shudders — is the only person she's slept with in the past three months.
It had been a moment of weakness. A huge one. Massive, really, fueled by a few too many drinks at the bar, a shared spliff outside, an alcohol-fueled decision of, "well, we live in the same neighborhood, may as well just take an Uber together" that ended in a heated makeout session, followed by one of the most passionate nights Y/N has ever had. (She'll never admit that to him, but she swallows it down for herself.)
There was something about that night. He was being less... awful than he typically was when their friends went out. He didn't eye fuck the entire bar, didn't buy any drinks for the cute girls flirting with him. He was tolerable and apparently that was enough for Y/N — well, drunk Y/N who gets a little too horny when she has rosé in her system, and when she eyed his large hands and tattoos in the Uber, and she felt him shift just a little bit closer to her in the backseat, and when he whispered "just for tonight, no one has to know" into her ear, she was a goner.
And now she's pregnant with his child.
What the fuck?
. . .
It turns out that that's Harry's exact response.
"You said you're on birth control—"
"I am."
"So what the fuck happened—"
"It must have failed, Harry, there's still a chance of conception even with the pill."
"Are you serious—"
"Do you think I would joke about this?"
He's pacing around the diameter of his living room, trying to digest the news. She understands. It took her about 48 hours to process that this was happening to her, and then an additional 24 when she realized she had to tell Harry. She hadn't told anyone else — not any of their friends or her mom, because she wasn't sure what she wanted to do and she didn't want her decision to be fueled by any outside opinions. As much as she despised him, she believed Harry was the only other person who had a say in this.
Finally, he sits down. Well, it's more a noisy thump as he crosses his legs on the carpet, burying his head in his hands. She sighs, feeling marginally bad for him, even if she was having the same response a few days ago.
"Listen, I'm fine to have an abortion. I know we're both pro-choice and we really don't have to do anything with this... thing. Just, like, Venmo me half the money for one and I'll get it done."
Harry looks up at her, his eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "Why would you get an abortion?"
"Why wouldn't I get an abortion?"
"Because I want to be a dad," he says with a shrug, as if it's a given that he'd want Y/N to mother his child, "You may be my only shot. We all know I have a shitty relationship history, who knows if I'll be able to have another kid."
"Harry, this is insane. We can't stand each other, this would never be a healthy situation."
"Why not?" he presses, and Y/N seriously can't believe he's fighting back on this, "Co-parenting is totally normal. We don't have to be married to have a kid together. I'm ready."
Her eyes widen. "I literally watched you funnel a bag of wine last week, and you're 29 years old."
"I only do that shit because I have no reason not to. If we're having a baby, I'm more than happy to stop partying and focus on becoming a dad."
"Do you— like, do you even know what being a parent requires?" Y/N asks, "You would be committed to dealing with me for at least 18 years. Money, emotional support, being there for everything. Soccer games, school shows, parent-teacher conferences, graduations, doctors appointments..."
"I want kids, Y/N. And if you're my only chance, I'm not gonna say no."
She thinks she might puke on the spot.
"You look like you're gonna pass out. Are you okay?" Harry questions, standing from his spot on the rug and stepping towards her. She puts her hands up, a silent and invisible boundary. He stops.
"Are you... set on having an abortion?" he asks quietly, "It's okay if you are, that's your choice."
She sighs. She hates to admit that she's not. That over the past four days, she's envisioned what it would be like to snuggle her sweet baby, to kiss them and hold them and be a mom to them. That, worst of all, her dating history is just as glum as Harry's and, whether she likes it or not, he may be her only shot at parenthood, too.
"I guess I'm not," Y/N breathes, setting her eyes low to the ground. "I know I only have so much time and... I do get scared that I'll miss my opportunity."
"Yeah," he nods in understanding, "Do you wanna... like, take some time to think then? Maybe reconvene in a couple of days?"
Reluctantly, she agrees. But she already knows that she doesn't need any more time to mull it over — she wants to have this baby with Harry. 
404 notes · View notes