Tumgik
#but seeing his shoes up on that counter like that really activated my fight or flight
vanfleeter · 10 months
Text
Patience Is A Virtue // JTK
Tumblr media
Warnings: Nothing but fluff and an angry Jake. I love me some angry Jake.
Three hours. He's been waiting for three hours, sitting on a bench with his foot tapping and his hand resting on his hip. He pulls out his phone and rereads your text.
Just a few more minutes and then I'll be done. That was thirty minutes ago. The trip to the mall was only supposed to be a quick one. Get in to pick up a pair of shoes Jake had ordered--the only store in Nashville to still have them in stock--and then to get out. But somehow he finds himself parked on the bench while you run in and out of stores. Bags piling up at his feet. There's not a doubt in his mind that his credit card will be maxed out by the end of the day.
Taking his phone out again, he calls you. His foot still taps away at the tiled flooring as he waits for you to answer. He can see you from he's sitting--watching you as you look at different shirts.
"Yes baby?" You answer.
"Are you almost done?"
"Just about."
"You said that thirty minutes ago." You giggle which only angers him more. "I can see you, you know. Hurry up."
"Be patient."
"My patience is running thin."
"Well since you can see me, you can help." You say turning in his direction. As your eyes lay upon him, you could just imagine the look he's giving underneath his sunglasses. His jaw is tightened, leg still bouncing with his hand on his hip as his foot begins to--now--angrily tap the floor.
"Help you with what?" He says through clenched teeth.
"Which shirt do you like better?" You say holding up a couple shirts that look somewhat different, but to him they look the same.
"They look the same."
"No, they don't. They're different."
"(Y/N).. You're really getting on my last nerve. We were supposed to be out of here three hours ago."
"Am I really getting on your last nerve?"
You watch him as he inhales deeply before exhaling. You can hear every breath through the phone pressed to your ear.
"Watch it." He warns. "Pick a shirt and let's go."
You give him a cheeky smile and hang up the phone. Taking both shirts with you, you head up the counter to pay for your items before heading back out to Jake in the court.
"You did not just buy both." He says as he stands up.
"I did. I couldn't decide which one I liked better and you certainly were no help."
"They looked the same."
"They were completely different."
Jake groans as he drops his head. "Can we please now?"
"I don't know, can we?" He glances up at you from behind his sunglasses. You giggle and brush an escaped strand of hair behind his ear. "You're so cute when you're mad."
"You won't think I'm cute when we get home." He says as he gathers up the bags from the floor and nudges you forward. "Start walking."
"O-o-o-o, shiver me timbers," You say, mimicking a pirate accent. "I'm quaking in me boots." You could see him fighting back a smile but his chest shakes as he stifles his laughter. "Ope, I think I got him boys." You announce to no one in particular. "You can't stay mad at me for long." You reach up to kiss his cheek and his smile disappears.
"Don't even try it."
"Aw but Jakey, you know you love me."
"I'm debating it." You playfully shove him, just enough to make him stumble but not hard enough to knock him over. "Get in the car."
"Yes, sir." You say saluting him before pulling open the passenger side door.
He uses his foot to activate the motion sensor that opens the trunk door. Dumping the--what feels like a million--bags into the trunk, he closes it and walks around to driver door and climbs inside. Immediately he spots a rubber duck sitting on the dashboard with a wide brim hat on it's head and sunglasses on its eyes. He pauses with the key stuck in the ignition and slowly turns his head to look at you. You smile at him and he rolls his eyes.
"Come on, it's cute!" You exclaim. "And it looks just like you!"
He shakes his head and starts the engine. He is so over today.
105 notes · View notes
this-is-spn20 · 1 year
Text
Day 3 of Christmas: Make Gingerbread Cookies
A/N: Just a reminder that requests are CLOSED for the month of December during my Days of Christmas series.
Spread Love,
-Marissa
--------------------------
There was a certain kind of buzz in the bunker today. And no, not from the generator. There was excitement in the air. This happy energy put a certain ‘pep’ in everyone’s step. Today you’d told the boys to save their energy because today you’d all be making soft gingerbread cookies! You’d asked your mother and grandmother for the recipe and they finally agreed to give it to you after a considerable amount of begging. They also decided you were “old enough now” to have the recipe and to pass it on to the important people in your life.
You were practically buzzing with anticipation yourself. You’d gotten up early with Sam just because you were too excited to go back to sleep. Sam was in the kitchen making his protein shake for his run and lacing up his shoes. He’d asked if you were alright since you never got up this early. You told him you were fine, and he didn’t believe it until you told him why. 
“I’m just excited for today! I’m fine Sam, really.” You said with a Cheshire cat-like smile. 
“What’s today?” Sam asked, a little nervous about your answer. 
“You’ll see Sam. Have a good run, I’ll be in the library.” You rose from your seat and practically skipped to the library. Leaving Sam to wonder what you had planned for the day. 
Three hours later, you were in your comfy bean bag chair in the library reading a new book in a series you recently bought. You were excited but calm as you flipped through the pages, wondering what would happen next. Sam sat in his usual chair, reading one of the Alice in Wonderland books. A small yet content smile on his face as he enjoyed his own little adventure. Peace and quiet wasn’t something hunters got often. Some others would start getting a little antsy by now (and admittedly Dean was), but you all still enjoyed the hunter-rader being quiet. No news is good news in this case. 
Dean woke up a little bit ago, he came to the library and greeted you and Sam with a hearty “Good morning.”, with you and Sam greeting him back. He asked if any of you wanted him to make breakfast, to which you and Sam agreed and Dean retreated back into the kitchen to make some bacon, eggs, and toast for Sam, and waffles for you and Dean. It was a quiet but pleasant morning. After the dishes were washed out by you and dried but Sam. You’d called Dean into the kitchen. Where your afternoon activities would start, and you just couldn’t contain yourself as Dean walked through the kitchen. 
“Alright Y/N, what do you have planned for us today?” Dean said as he met you and Sam behind the counter. 
“I hope you boys got some aprons ready because we are making my grandmother's famous gingerbread cookies!” 
Dean and Sam’s eyes lit up like fireworks as you instructed them to get out a few bowls and you preheated the oven. After mixing in all the ingredients and placing the dough on the baking sheet, the oven went off, indicating the oven was preheated to its set temperature. Sam slid the sheet into the oven. While cleaning up the kitchen, Sam was sweeping up eggshells, sugar, and flour from the ensuing three-way food fight started by Sam, surprisingly. You were all still giggling like a group of school girls and enjoying the relative silence until the oven timer went off, indicating the cookies were done. 
Dean got the first cookie and shoved it in his mouth as soon as the cookies cooled down, moaning as the cookie practically melted in his mouth. Sam and you grabbing your own cookies and following Dean’s example. The three of you made eye contact and busted out laughing. 
The vibes were immaculate that evening as you all retired to Dean’s man cave and watched slasher movies all night long. 
 --------------------
The recipe I talked about
TAGGING: @fooshigoomies @naturalswifty89 @imaginestuffs @of-a-chaotic-mind
Wanna be added to the tag list? Send an ask!
23 notes · View notes
subizer0 · 1 year
Text
star-crossed lovers.2 the sheriff of piltover
Tumblr media
"the always enchanting tale, of star crossed lovers"
being an unndercover zaunite working for the kiramman family, slowly planning doom (was what i said but brace yourself cuz that's a lot different sdfsjklfjsdf)
a.n: i believe caitlyn is supposed to be around 24ish (although some redditers think she's in her late twenties which is, um, kinda unrealistic imo :D). so the main part of this takes place between the first and the second act, meaning the explosion + hextech bullshit did happen. caits just not a part of the police deparmant yet. capisci?
!!!again, since english is not my first language you will be seeing a lot of clownery in this. little bit of this little bit of that, yknow? (i'll probably edit this after a nap)
caitlyn x gender neutral(god i hope) reader (4,4k words)
warnings: reader is wearing a nightgown, abuse, they are both smitten but they don't notice yet trope, there's the zaun-piltover racism going on i guess???
supporting characters: tobias, cassandra
you were born to alow-middle class family in zaun, a surprise child, considering how your parents had the impression of giving birth to a child in the lawless down city was just another mouth to feed. not an unwanted one, i might add, but even though your parents were always discreet about the hardship of their lives, it would also be a lie to say your life was as easy as some folks got it out there.
nights were your parents came home exhausted, visibly wounded and gasping for air. even though they were broke, they were also proud to lead an honorable life in a city where illegal activities never stopped. as a child, you used to admire them for it, having stone fights with other "poor" kids while bragging about how good your parents were. but that started to change as you've realized how your family stopped eating proper meals, sometimes they worked for over 14 hours with no pay, you started to wear your summer shoes even though it was freezing cold. you guys stopped having dinner conversations because all your parents wanted to talk about was how they were going to pay this month's bills. they stopped asking how your day was, if you had any new drawings to put on the fridge this week. they didn't wake up early to see you off to school anymore, hell, you couldn't even be sure if they had just gone to sleep, at 7 in the morning!
so you stopped as well. you weren't as keen to hug your parents anymore, you stopped asking for money to buy crayons from the junk markets, and by the time you were 12, maybe by luck maybe you were just at the right place in a right time, you bumped into a very, very important person. someone that has it so easy that they wouldn't even have to think twice before purchasing a very expensive counter-part for their new pricy clock. you apologized profusely, of course. you were brought up with proper manners after all. you saw a machine like man, whom you assumed was unable to speak, shaking his -you weren't actually sure if they were even a mister- hands rapidly, trying to communicate. you heard of piltovians going down to buy their own creations for cheaper prices here, but you also thought it was illegal. zaunite gangs were responsible for stealing and smuggling them downstairs, but whatever happened to them afterwards was none of their business. everyone out here had their own vouches and sales people, so actually seeing someone from upside doing shopping here was very unsettling to be fair.
you froze, i mean god, you were just here to possibly sell a few junk that you stole the other week (which you weren't really proud of but life was getting harder), and you HAD to run into one of the tough guys of piltover. you clutched your backpack, ready to run if the dude saw you putting a puzzle piece in one of your pockets, but the mechanic citizen just put their palms in your face as if to say 'stop'.
his robotic fingers pointed to your bag, sweat down your forehead and coming into your view now, you also slightly changed your position to look at what he was showing. of course you knew what was there, it was just a dumb reflex. he was trying to ask about a few invention blueprints you were doodling earlier at class today. zaun didn't have a proper education system, but there were scholars teaching kids privately if offered a fat amount of money. your parents wanted you to take science courses, working for a chemlord themselves, but you always found yourself coming up with different drawing of tech products.
you enjoyed drawing, sculpture and art in general, but down here, these stuff were just seen as well-heeled brat hobbies, they didn't make money and they for sure didn't protect from any punk trying to catch some hands. but in piltover? people appreciated fine arts, they did not dismiss them for not bringing any income to the family, they were overjoyed upon seeing their children take interests in them. oh, how lovely it must be. not having to beg to your parents about art supplies but them simply coming to you with new offers for more creative aspects of life. and the rich brats, who often refuse to see their parents' kindness and just complain about them being so 'overbearing'. you couldn't even remember the last time your guardians knocked on your door to ask for your opinion, on anything!
seeing you clearly confused, the piltover citizen politely put his hands on your shoulder before quickly making a gesture to show you what he was really interested in. using his open palms as a paper, he pretended to scribble over it with another robo-hand. clumsily throwing your bag to the ground, you took out your biggest notebook for him to use, a bit uneasy but still curious nonetheless.
"did you create them?" you shook your head in affirmation. your tiny heart was beating with both horror and excitement. "they are quite complex and creative." he nodded slightly as you read the words with a smile now. your ideas, getting praised by someone for the first time ever. not to mention someone who seems to know about his way around.
he hesitates now, looking at you as he stops writing. he can tell by your clothes and demeanor that you must've seen the rough side of the town, a kid that's maybe around a middle-schoolers age, trying to get away with stealing stuff to possible survive, he assumes. he just draws a smiley face on the paper, handing it back to you with ease and determination. a bright kid who deserves to receive education in the prestige academys of piltover, getting lost between the chemical wastes of zaun. he watches you take the notebook back carefully, still watching out for any hostile activity in the way he's behaving. he uses every power that's limited by his mechanical body to show you a simple chuckle, and then points once more.
"you." "me." "upside."
and that he does. trying not to get your hopes up, you spend the next few days just like any other, but you're yearning. looking out the windows more, up to the sky that you can hardly see because of piltover's majestic buildings. hoping for that meeting to be a plan of fate, a hope.
"if the servants are of any trouble to you, just let me know! kirammans do not tolerate rudeness." there you saw a bright 14 year old smiling at you politely as you struggled to carry some books about neuroscience. you knew of her, of course you did. the little lady of the kiramman family, the girl with the weird hair color and a gap in her teeth as the only thing that slips from her perfect aura. you didn't quite want to admit, but you were a little scared of her. she was beautiful, first of all. standing tall with her head high and chin up. always walking straight, never doing any mistakes. you'd sometimes see her talking to very particular searchers, young and talented people very important in their own areas, as equals?? she always spoke whatever was in her mind in an intelligent perspective, never failing to make her mother proud.
"you shouldn't be seen helping me." you said, voice cracking while your eyes search the corridor for any witnesses in panic. normally you wouldn't care about other students pushing you around, it just wasn't worth throwing your scholarship aside. since that faithful day, even though you never saw the 'machine man' personally again, there was a feeling deep inside always telling you that you had to make sure his efforts were not in vain.
you could see that she was not able to make much of your tension, clenching her own books to her chest.
"what is that suppose to mean? we're just going to the same class. it's not a big deal, no?" caitlyn answered quickly with a slight tone of hurt in her voice. she was right actually. you were heading to the same class, but it was very clear that you two were very different from each other. you were a meek child for many reasons: being loud and expressive usually meant getting hurt in zaun, being noticeable made it very hard to sneak past shop owners when they see you trying to steal a delicious fruit. and there was caitlyn, an open-minded girl with parents loving her unconditionally. drifting to sleep after being kissed goodnight by her father, not having to wonder whether her parents would make it after tomorrow's work.
you used to envy her a lot as a child, seeing her trying to approach you made your blood boil, during your first year here as a 12 year old you quickly realized how different piltover was from your dreams. it was not a magical place where people came together for science regardless of origin. it was still as ruthless, if not even more. "her and her spoiled child antics" you though while she struggled making a conversation with a few girls from your class. you knew she was having a hard time with getting friends but you simply didn't care. a privileged girl born into one of the most wealthy families in one of the most advanced cities in whole runeterra is sad because everyone is so intimidated by the idea of talking to her? boohoo.
being an apprentice to the hollaran clan was not as easy as you actually though. funny, people'd think managing to get out of zaun, scraping your way to the topside would be a new page waiting to be turned. but it wasn't. it was studying for more hours, getting told off by others for doing minor mistakes, being looked down upon for being born to the hardships they created. you spent numerous nights simply crying, going to bed starving. not even being able to look at others kids from your same house in the eyes without being felt disgusting. but you still prayed to janna, you hoped she would keep your family safe, you begged her to help you find a way of these endless circles of suffering. and rest was history, being assigned research-mates with caitlyn after nearly 6 years of ignoring her, was the start of your ultimate plan.
first it was cait suggesting to meet up at a cafe to 'change the atmosphere a bit. she was simply cooped up in the huge private library of hers as the teacher's assistant' (you remember scoffing at the idea and caitlyn having to explain the impact of motivation. in your mind, there was no motivation. consistent hard work was all there is to it) then it was meeting up at the library after its closing hours, shushing caitlyn as she gets excited talking about detective work. exchanging notes in class, and you calling her 'ice queen'. caitlyn offering to go to the restroom with you, just to stand there and glare at people that talk behind your back. seeing her efforts, you started warming up too, and you soon realized caitlyn maybe wasn't as fortunate as you always made her to be. being born into money and royalty did not seem the best, especially when caitlyn started dozing off on your shoulders when she was too exhausted to study from taking house management classes. finding caitlyn at the academy infirmary, clearly dizzy but still compassionate and stubborn about 'not working enough'. you started purchasing snacks and pastries for her, trying out a new tea brew because you want to impress her, taking notes of interesting books you saw at the library just in case she wanted to take a look too.
and when you two started getting even more comfortable, your 'study dates' as she liked to call them, turned into you bringing your pajamas to her house for a sleepover. but even then, you were surprised to see new sides of caitlyn, who was becoming your best friend even faster then you thought. supposedly, she was never this intimate with other people. forget about going for a cup of tea, caitlyn did not even speak to anybody else from your studies. even though you didn't find that very surprising, her mother looked horrified while talking about it, making you question if caitlyn wished not to talk to them about these matters at all.
that being said, her parents were getting quite used to you as well. greeting you at the door themselves, asking for what you'd like to eat for dinner. you were ashamed, to put it plainly, for thinking that they would treat you differently just because you were a down people. but you also reassured yourself, being reminded that after nearly 6 years of coming up here, caitlyn was the only person to treat you like an individual. but nights when you cried yourself to sleep, hugging the extra blanked caitlyn gave you, trying not the sniffle so hard just because caitlyn insisted on sleeping together on the floor as a sleepover tradition. you thought about how your experience in the kiramman household was the closest thing you got the family bonds since forever. not from your patrons, professors, friends, not even your own family. but from the girl you tried so desperately to ignore because you were simply jealous of her.
her father coming to check on her after you two over-do it arguing about your classes was something that all household members were used to by that point. tobias was pleased by your presence, he acknowledged that his daughter often needed someone to listen to her talk about her obsessions and you being more than happy to just listen and nod was enough to make his heart melt. he urged caitlyn to invite you around more often, unknowingly also being the reason of her having to confess to you.
she was shy at first, cheeks all rosy while fidgeting with her fingers uncharacteristically. she pointed at the small sofa of her work room, inviting you to sit down. now taking tours around the room not daring to meet your eyes, she seemed adorable.
"you gonna start talking already or am I suppose to understand what's wrong from your body language as always?"
"ah, yes, pardon me. i didn't think you'd notice." you couldn't help but sigh very loudly. sure, you had a weird friendship with her -you were not even sure you could call it friendship honestly. it was as if she just picked you and started hanging around- but you already knew enough about her to know that caitlyn was not the one to chicken out from speaking her mind.
so after what felt like hours of waiting and playing with your fingers, she finally got up with new found confidence.
"you may move in with us. to our house, i mean. my parents already talked to house holloran about your apprentice-ship." taking a deep breath, relief spread to her face after finally blurting out what has been on her mind for weeks. she opened her eyes, excited, wanting to meet yours as soon as possible. but her smile dropped instantly at how hard you were gritting your teeth.
piltovians and their selfish wants. never once stopping to consider if their acts would hurt people, only caring if it's to their advantage. you wanted to believe it very badly, that maybe caitlyn was different. your first day at the academy made you hopeful of the little girl that saw nothing wrong with talking to a zaunite. but now she was standing there, arms trying to reach out to you, very hesitant. she's a mess as well, eyes frantically searching for any twitch of movement on your face, visibly tense, but even in times like these, she's trying to understand what she did wrong.
you didn't say anything, caitlyn was a smart girl, you knew she'd understand what you were thinking about just from how hard you were clenching your fists. you stared at her with utter disbelief in your eyes, angry words threatening to build up now. looking back at this exact moment in a few years you'd realize how much of a scene you were causing. this would be your dream!! "being considered a member of the kiramman family was not something everybody could dream of" is what you would've said if you were a 12 year old standing in front of a gate with a few belonging of yours. tears forming in your eyes as you made out silhouettes of your "housemates" looking at you with pity and disgust. you were nearly 19 now, having spent the last few years of life observing none other than the kiramman girl. looking at her family with envy at first, with sadness, yearning then love and finally disgust. somedays you wondered why you continued being friends with her, from being her project partners to today, of barely being together as actual friends for 5 to 6 months. and the answer was simple:
you didn't know. you didn't know why you hated seeing caitlyn all exhausted after an all-nighter, you hated seeing her get praised by superiors after taking a semi-good shot because you knew she did too, you hated seeing how pretty she looked with a dress suited for a princess -even when she complained about having to wear it. - she was the only person who cared for you without having any gains from it. caitlyn knew you were from the undercity, so she knew there wouldn't be much to receive from you money wise, and maybe, maybe she just wanted to help you have an easier life by living , but it couldn't reach that deep. not when you were hurt by her people.
your pride was taken from you long ago, but hearing caitlyn say those things as if she could be the one to make the decision was taking you back to some of the most painful memories. getting hit by the kitchen maids for wanting to snack before anyone could wake up, having to walk to the academy after failing to wake up just on time, not doing as you are told, not being at the place you were told to be.
you couldn't think of a word to say now, you couldn't stay here but you knew better than to just go back 'home'. so you just did a quick nod, just a nod. not one of the usual ones, caitlyn took note of. not a "caitlyn can you please stop talking about cats this is important nod." or a "i can't believe i'm friends with a nerd like you but mechanics is super hot please continue" nod. this was a nod to protest, to show how hurt you were. seeing you this defeated and disappointed was breaking her heart too. you were supposed to feel happy about it!
ms. kiramman has been doing arrangements for months only for this moment. caitlyn begged her parents to give you a chance despite them obviously being skeptical about your zaunite roots. she didn't talk to her dad for a whole week after he said "they couldn't trust a down born to be their daughter's friend." they only agreed at the cost of you also being accepted as an apprentice, though it would be a more fancy word for "servant." you would be in charge of the huge family library by caits special request since she always saw your eyes get instantly huge upon witnessing how comprehensive it was. cait thought you would fancy the idea, she did. just like how she fancied you.
she was always looking at you, from day one. caitlyn knew that you had a poro mascot that you enjoyed to doodle in a specific corner of your notebooks. she demanded to be waken up earlier by the servants, not because she was eager for school or anything, but had to sit at certain spot that looked over yours. she watched as you spent your whole education as a loner, not a desperate one, but you took pride in being able to be enough for yourself and caitlyn though highly of you because of it. she immediately tried to steal a glance off of you after making a joke to see if you were laughing or not. and yes maybe she did smile to herself thinking about you, looking at your space a bit too long, making sure that her touch lingers on your hands as she receives your paper work.
why did she keep comparing your schedules to see if you'd take literature together? or why did she insist on you taking the extra credit for a class that didn't even matter so that she, as the professor's assistant, could grade your work and possibly put a little smiley face on it? cait didn't know. one thing she knew though, was that 12 year old caitlyn would never cause you to have such a look on your face. she wouldn't make you insecure about anything that had to do with you. that's why she knocked on your door, now that room renovations were done as well. hoping that you'd actually open, but still understanding if you'd rather not to.
after waiting for a while, getting quite cold since she basically thought coming to your door without a second plan in mind or a pair of socks was a good idea, caitlyn sighed as she closed her eyes. resting her forehead on your door, not trying to be nosey or anything but still hopeful of you feeling the same way.
"cait?" it was so faint that she would've missed it if she stopped to process it. her heart started beating so fast that she was hearing it in her ear drums, steadying her voice to not scare you even further.
"yes?" no response, you're not even sure what you were going with this to be honest. the only thing you knew, hearing her familiar footsteps made you get up from the couch that you've been sitting on for the last few hours.
you had a lot of time to think, to plan, to conquer. even your own conscience telling you to make them all regret. living in a make believe dream made you lost to the truth and to yourself. a zaunite, always a zaunite. nothing but a spawn of filth on the eyes of those who made your lives so miserable. you've lived your life as if it depended on luck, not being sure if you'd be alive tomorrow only to come upstairs??? just to forget about how your people were suffering because of the silly parties that these rich people were having?? and you? what about you coming here with the promises of going back down, to have a better zaunite, only to be the house playmate of the girl that you liked? shame on you.
but your fog of darkness vanished as soon as you heard caitlyn knock, it was her habit to knock with a rhythm even thought it was not necessary at all. you felt lighter, your sorrows still fresh as new but you didn't seem to mind now, not with her. they weren't clouding your mind anymore, your vision was clearer than ever.
"i don't know if i can make you understand, cait." your voice was cracking with the emotions you struggled to keep, you wanted to look strong and undefeatable even when talking to the woman you loved. realizing that you fell in love in the middle of making a life changing decision wasn't helping with the whole 'keep calm' mindset either.
"i don't need to understand, i only need you to be okay." you yanked the door, wood harshly hitting the wall, echo spreading throughout the whole corridor. you looked terrible, night gown swaying with air that was coming from your slightly open window. caitlyn looked rough around the edges too, she always tried her best to be as emotionally available as possible but you were successful in seeing through the cracks. she was wearing the ugly fangirl shirt you got her for caitlyn's coming of age party. you still remembered how horrified her parents were despite caitlyn's loud laughter. she always told you about how she was using it as a pajama but you were never fortunate enough to see it with your eyes.
and there she stood, with her seraphine shirt and big bags under her eyes. your heart filled with the overwhelming urge to hold her as close as possible and yet, you stood your ground. your family was never the touch-feely type, they much preferred to argue over their emotions. so seeing caitlyn close the gap in between you, hugging hard enough to make you gasp for air, you finally felt at ease after nearly six years of being here. in front of caitlyn, you didn't need to put on a façade, you didn't need to look strong or hard to argue. after staying in the exact same position for long enough, feeling her hands softly gather around your waist, you whispered with the strength that was left in your body.
"i won't let anyone get in our way, cait." she tensed, sensing the venom in your tone. caitlyn wasn't sure if you were just speaking from pain or if you were actually serious. if only she could see your eyes, the ones that lost their color after being mistreated for your whole life. but they were shining now, a light that caitlyn was very familiar with.
you only had that type of look when you were successful in finding the formula to the theory that you've been working on, only when you received bad news from back home, only when you saw a few guys that bullied you in the past asking you for help.
the type of shine you had in your eyes only when you were about to change things in a way that would last forever.
50 notes · View notes
yarrystyleeza · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
I posted 3,584 times in 2022
That's 3,529 more posts than 2021!
20 posts created (1%)
3,564 posts reblogged (99%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@charliethomascoxuniverse
@peterman-spideyparker
@softasawhisper
@mindidjarin
@a-really-good-lawyer
I tagged 44 of my posts in 2022
#yarrystyleeza - 13 posts
#daredevil - 12 posts
#fanart - 11 posts
#twdfanart - 8 posts
#ys - 8 posts
#wattpad - 8 posts
#whatwehaventtoldbefore - 8 posts
#sweetcreature - 8 posts
#iamthestranger - 8 posts
#mattmurdock - 8 posts
Longest Tag: 110 characters
#he looks like hes wearing eyeliner and is trying not to cry (because the eyeliner is irritating his eyes?????)
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
-me entering pinterest to search for cute converse shoes pics-
The second the home screen loads:
Oh, wow, Matt Murdock. >:3
6 notes - Posted October 20, 2022
#4
It's Matt, again.
"I got used to pain" but he's cute as heckkkk —as always, duh—
25.11.22
Tumblr media
See the full post
17 notes - Posted November 25, 2022
#3
Hot Cocoa || Matt Murdock × fem!reader
No warnings, a little mention of blood, but just adorable Matt and all.
Summary: a mid-October rainy day at home with Matt.
Writer note: this is my first time writing on Tumblr, so my style is kinda Wattpad-ish.
Tumblr media
It was a mid-October afternoon, and the sky was heavily pouring on the orange and yellow leaves on the trees, rising up its scent to fill the atmosphere, giving the vibe of staying in bed all day and drink hot cocoa, no activities, no overpressure, just a hot drink and a book with sweet jazz music playing in the background.
You left the bed, after fighting the urge to stay under the warm heavy sheets, you walked up to the window and opened the curtains, the dim light hitting the ground to fill the room, after passing the yellow-stained glass, giving a warm effect on you, you stretched your body lifting your arms up in the cold still air, sending goosebumps all over your body. Pulling your feet on the wooden floor, you left the room to be met by the casting lights of the two big windows on your left, lighting the whole living room.
You made it to the counter, you didn't even want to wash the sleep off your eyes, you went out there to get your supplies of snacks and head back to bed. But eventually, you decided to make a hot cup of coffee, mocha is your favorite.
You emptied the instant espresso packet in your favorite large mug, as you already put the milk over the stove to heat up a little, you added a little amount of water — after sugar — to the mug and stirred it till it got foamy, then added the hot milk, and finished it with a couple of big fullspoons of chocolate cream, stirred it all well together, and went to the couch— holding your mug in one hand, and your favorite book you took from the counter —in the other.
You sat yourself down slowly, afraid to get the hot mocha over your lap and burn yourself, when you realized you could've just put it on the coffee table inches away from you, chuckling at yourself, you took a sip from your hot mocha.
The place looked a little bit messy, daredevil's suit was lying on the ground in front of the big closet — now on your left, the fists were a little bloody, so you exhaled in relief that it's not his blood, he came back late last night and you were too asleep to hear him, you didn't find his emergency kit in sight, so he didn't have a big fight, but it seems like he already made his way to the firm early, he had a day at the court today, and he gave that case all his blood and sweat, so you prayed he did well on it.
You stretched your back on the couch's as you took a sip from your mug, inhaling the chocolate's warm scent, and flipping on to the page you stopped at last night.
You were too focused on the book in your hand it almost sucked you out of your reality, you were brought back by the sound of your favorite breath filling the room, the thud of his stick thrown on the other couch.
– You were deeply sleeping this morning, I felt you were tired so I didn't disturb it.
He said as he sat next to you on the couch, untying the red tie around his collar, unbuttoned the first two buttons, greeting you with a quick soft kiss, the light coming out of the window casting on his face, his glasses flickered in the light as he took them off to gaze at you with his sight-less honey-green eyes, wearing a resting smile on his face, laugh-lines appearing on the sides of his eyes; the face of heaven to you.
– How was your day at the court, Mr Murdock?
You asked, as he held your left hand, playing with your wedding ring.
– It was great. How about yours, sweetheart? You canceled your plans at the office today?
– Yeah... I didn't really feel like leaving the house today.
– Well, glad you didn't, sweetheart, you can see the result on me right in front of your eyes.
He said with a breathy laugh —the way he always spoke when making fun of his decisions, he was soaked with water from the top of his head to the tips of his toes, looking like a puppy who took a shower after a long day of playing with mud. You slid your fingers between his dark red-brown hair, while the other hand caressed his slightly-bearded wet cheek. He kissed the palm of your hand, smiling into it.
– What were you reading?
He cuts the silence you made after you passionately stared at him for eternity, admiring the face of your blind husband, the way his manly features were only soft for you, even if he had the worst day.
– The book I told you about last week, it's actually interesting...
You said after a quick gasp for air, waking yourself up from clipping out of reality, back to look into his eyes with full consciousness, with a smile. He knows how still you are when you're reading, and of course by listening to your fingertip slightly scratching the surface of the pages as you try to follow up with your eye-reading.
– Mind if you read for me some of it, sweetheart?
He asked with a gentle smile and a soft voice, you nodded and flipped to the page you stopped at before he interrupted your reading with that sweet face of his, reading the lines in a loud but soft voice, he rounded your shoulder with his arm as he leant closer to gain more attention to what you read, almost resting his head to yours.
You kept on reading for half an hour, and when you felt his heartbeat slowing its pace —you turned your head to see him resting his head on your shoulder, sleeping his eyes out, his day was rough and full of stress; it was appearing on his shaking hands that rested on you.
"He just needed something to force him to sleep." you thought with a slight giggle, you know he likes falling asleep to your voice even if you were yelling, he likes listening to you humming songs rocking him to sleep after a rough day at the court, or caressing his hair and bandaging him after a fight with the bad guys at night; he just loves you being around him, feeling you, filling his lungs with your scent lingering around the house.
You rested his head to your lap, and he helped you moving his weight, shifting in his place caring for your comfort, until he found the best position for you two, he was directly under your chin if you looked down a little.
– It was a rough day.
See the full post
27 notes - Posted October 22, 2022
#2
I'm literally attending college just to spend my time sketching my Devil Boi. :)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
62 notes - Posted October 20, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
Please, if Disney would bring back daredevil, bring me back my soft fluffy-haired Matty with his adorable smile and I'd be thankful. <3
Tumblr media Tumblr media
See the full post
65 notes - Posted October 22, 2022
Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →
1 note · View note
shittpoetry · 2 years
Text
last time i saw a sunrise, it was hours after my mom had attempted to shoot herself and i had found confirmation that my dad does coke. there was yelling and screaming and crying, the whole show. i stayed up until 9am, slept for 2 hours, and went about the next day. it was weird- the next day-because normally after fights we pretend like nothing happened. we put a fuzzy film over the last 12 hours and my parents overcompensate and everyone is somehow okay. this time, it was potent. my mom stayed in bed all day, my dad got home from work, and went straight to bed. i painted on my shoes as a quiet activity. I've become really good at eavesdropping, yet i heard nothing. that day changed my rules of every fight they've had since. when i hear my mothers footsteps into her bedroom, i think "can i hear the gun safe opening?" when my dad sets something down on the counter, i think "was that his gun or did he already put it away for the night?" when i hear the beginning of an argument, i think "is my dad too high or too sober this time?" it feels endless. my parents have never brought up that night, only me and my brother to each other in confidence. i am eternally grateful for my brother. right now, im seeing another sunrise. right now, my parents are fighting again. right now, nothing really ever changes.
0 notes
itzagothamcitysiren · 2 years
Note
Hey!! I was wondering if you could write a Dick Grayson x female reader where maybe dick comes home from a fight and the reader helps patch up his injuries and its just cute fluff ?? Thanks <33
An. ugh this is like my favorite batboy's scenario, it's just cute brain rot lol I love this ask, I hope you like it! :
Tumblr media
the Patch Up Job
Dick was usually quiet when he got home from his night job, or at least he tried to be. He knew you woke up early for work and didn’t want you to miss out on sleep just being his nightly activities. But sometimes he couldn’t help it. There were nights when he couldn’t avoid making a little nose.
Their apartment wasn’t the newest and he’d really been meaning to fix that window, as if squeaked bloody murder when it was cold out, the wood seemingly stiffening and yelling out that it was cold. Then there were the nights when he was just too tired to pay attention and would trip over some pair of shoes or a cat toy-
Oh yeah and your cat. Dick wasn’t used to living with cats and was a little hesitant when you two decided to move in together and your little furball was a package deal. The thing would cry out a hailstorm of complaints at him if you’d fallen asleep forgetting to give her her bedtime treats. Or sometimes even if she was just in a bad mood.
Tonight, unfortunately, was one of those nights.
He hissed as the window creaked, holding onto his side before crouching in. With one hand he tried to let the window close gently, but the pain grasped under his hand made him wince and drop the window with a smack. He winced again, and paused, waiting to hear if you rustled in your sleep in the room down the hall. When he heard silence and stepped forward.
“Meow,” a whine dragged out causing Dick to let out a groan.
“Chubb’s,” he called out to the cat. “Not now, please you’re going to wake your mom and I prefer for her to not see me like this,”
“Meoooooowwww,” the cat didn’t care.
Dick grumbled, hobbling over to the counter, letting his free hand fall to open the cat drawer. He hardly paid attention as he opened and poured out a ridiculous amount onto the floor. He’d let you yell at him in the morning.
He continued his walk to the bathroom, limping and dragging his feet in exhaustion and pain. He was there but was too tired to stop himself from letting the door close a little too loudly. He cursed, rushing to lock it but he already could hear your voice tiredly calling out to him.
“Babe?” you called out, Dick imagining you peeking your head out of your room.
He didn’t answer right away, having peeled off the top half of his suit and assessing the damage. He was going to need stitches. He hated stitching himself up.
“Dick?” She knocked at the bathroom door now. “Are you in there?”
“Oh- yeah! I’m in here.” He said, nervously. Stupid, she was going to know something was wrong. He would normally respond with something cheeky, like “I’d hope it was me” or “No, it’s the ghost of the last tenant,” but he didn’t this time. Her silence confirmed that she was on to him.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes!” Fuck, that was too quick, too urgent. “I’m fine, go back to bed, I’ll be there in a bit.”
There was a pause.
He kept still, listening for her shuffling feet heading back to their bedroom. That’s not what he heard although. Instead, he heard the doorknob rustling. It didn’t last long as she obviously learned that it was locked, making her angry and concerned. She knew he was hurt.
“How bad?” was all she asked causing him to deflate.
There was no point now in hiding it, so Dick reached out to unlock the door. Another pause came, and he could picture her mentally preparing herself to see him in the worst condition possible. He moved further into the bathroom, hoping onto the bathroom sink to be ready for her.
The door opened slowly, and you came, eye peering into the room hesitantly but ready. You saw part of his suit on the floor, clear cuts in the fabric visible. Your eyes trailed up to meet his, only catching them for a second before bringing them down to his torso. Your heart dropped at the deep cuts grazing over his skin.
You didn’t say anything at first, moving to the cabinet above the toilet to grab the first aid kit. It wasn’t until you had the supplies you needed set up and ready did you speak. You started to clean out his wounds before you began to stitch them up.
“What happened?”
“Croc.” He winced as you cleaned him up. He felt guilty as your voice sounded exhausted. He should’ve gone back to the cave instead, but their apartment was so much closer.
“Hmm.” You hummed before lulling the room back into silence.
“He looks a lot worse though.” Dick tried to make light of the situation, popping his lower lip out.
“He already looks pretty bad; can’t imagine you could do anything to him to make him look worse.” You joked back, smirking as you threw out another cotton swab.
“Rude,” Dick hissed as you dabbed him with a new swab covered in alcohol.
It continued that way until he was all stitched up, just the two of you going back and forth, lit jabs made at Dick’s expense. But he was okay with it, that was just what you did to make yourself not get worked up overseeing him beat up like this.
Dick crashed against the bed, ignoring his aching body yelling at him for doing so. His head was buried into the pillow and he let out a sigh of content. His eyes were closed, waiting for you to join him but he never felt your body crash next to his. He opened one eye, seeing you standing near your end table, messing with your phone.
“What are you doing?”
“Turning my alarm off.” You said looking up at him. You saw him cock an eyebrow up in question, opening both eyes. “I have to wake up for work in an hour. There’s no point in going back to bed. I’ll just finish cleaning up the bathroom and, stuff.”
Dick narrowed his eyes, rolling over to look at the clock on his end table. It was 5am. He felt another pang of guilt and sat up. “I’m sorry.” He frowned.
“It’s fine. Really, don’t sweat it.” You tried to assure but he could tell you were bummed about not being able to sleep. You worked hard and were usually beat after work. He wasn’t sure how’d you get through the day with so little sleep.
“Call out.”
“Dick, I can’t just call out. It’s fine, I’ll be okay-,”
“Babe, my dad’s your boss. You’ll be fine. Call out.” Dick assured, already reaching for his phone to text Bruce.
“Dick-,”
“Bruce will understand, Y/N.” He said ignoring her and texting Bruce about your absence. He’d be fine without his assistant for one day and if not, he could blame Dick. “Come to bed. We’ll sleep in and then we can just be lazy around the house all day. It’ll be great.” He said reaching across the bed to pull you onto it.
You tried to protest but ended up laughing as he pulled you against him, keeping you down and unable to escape from him. You sighed, rolling your eyes. You didn’t want people to think you got special treatment because you were dating your boss’s son, but you found yourself already giving up in your fight.
You nestled into his hold, smiling to yourself as he retracted an arm from you, satisfied that you weren’t going to try to escape him, and pulled the blankets up over you both. His arm soon went back to wrap around you, giving your shoulder a kiss as he did.
“Thanks for stitching me up, y/n/n.”
“Just be more careful next time.” You said softly.
“Hmmm.” He mumbled, already on his way to deep sleep. “Love you,” he mumbled out.
“I love you too.”
97 notes · View notes
Text
Day in the Life of a Single Dad with a 2 Yr Old
This was requested by this anon.
AN: let me know if you guys like fluff fics & i'll try to write them as frequent as my smut & sicfics. also couldn't come up with a better title so... yeah the title is a lil iffy.
Things to help you understand this story better:
(Harry is a single parent/Harry is 25/Harry is a healthy eater/Loves his daughter so much)
Tumblr media
Harry is peacefully sleeping in his bed alone. Covers to his chin, curled up on his side. That is until his beautiful two year old daughter comes barging in there to wake her daddy up. He shouldn't be asleep she thinks. It's too late. In reality its only 7 am on a Saturday, but to an early riser like her, he should be awake and playing with her. Or making her breakfast.
Her little feet pad over to her daddy's side of the bed. She can barley reach him due to the height of his bed, but manages to stretch her little arms up and taps on Harrys face. "Daddy, wake up." she speaks in her little British accent. Harry slowly opens his eyes and immediately squeezes them shut because of the sunlight coming from the window blinding him. "Daddy!!" his daughter says a little louder.
If his daughter was any older, Harry might tell her to wait a few minutes or go back to bed because it's too early, but he knows she's only 2. So he forces his eyes open again and reaches down to hook his hands in her tiny arm pits to lift her on the bed. "Why are you awake so early babe." he asks in a gravely voice, while placing her on his bare chest.
"I hungry." her tiny voice replies.
"Mhmm what would you like?" Harry mumbles sleepily.
"Sweets." she says innocently.
"I don't think so love. We don't eat sweets for breakfast. It will give you a tummy ache. What about a healthy fruit salad. We have some Watermelon and Strawberries in the fridge." he replies to his daughter who's straddling his chest.
"NO, I WANT SWEETS! I WANT SWEETS!" she yells back with angry tears threatening to escape.
"D/n, we do not yell!" her father speaks firmly. "We can't have sweets but we can have something other than a fruit salad if you want. Lets go down and see what we have." With a tight grip on his upset daughter, Harry gets out of bed and makes his way down the spiral staircase and into the kitchen.
This wasn't something new to him. Ever since his daughter turned 2 in August, she's been acting up a lot more than previously. You could say it was the terrible twos everyone talks about. Harry tries his hardest to teach her the proper ways to behave but it's been proven to be a lot more difficult than anticipated. Especially hard when he's busy all the time and isn't with her 24/7 like stay-at-home mums are or stay-at-home dads were. He's a musician. Not a so called musician that gets excited to book a Friday night at the local pub. No, Harry is a international pop star.
When he ended up getting a one-night stand pregnant, he told them they could do what they wanted as far keeping the baby or not. Harry has always been one to agree that its a women's choice. But his one-night stand wanted to have the baby. Honestly, you'd think Harry would get angry that she decided to keep it, but he wasn't. Maybe it wasn't the ideal situation to have a baby from a one-night stand that he had on tour, but he being the loving Harry everyone seems to know and love, of course tried to look at it as a positive thing. But when his daughter was born, his one-night stand got her minute of fame by saying she had Harry Styles baby and left. Abandoned her own blood. Harry had to get full custody of his daughter and ever since then she's been living with her daddy.
It was really hard the first few months of her life. A baby needs their mothers comfort and warmth and she had none of that. She never got the opportunity to breast feed or feel the love of her mother, and Harry feels sick just thinking about it. So Harry put his career on hold for a few months to take care of his daughter and show her that someone cares for her. He never wanted her to feel unloved. It was his biggest fear. That's why every day since the day she was born, he tells her how much he loves her. Shows her how much he loves her.
He did all her nightly feedings with warmed up formula in bottles. He changed her diapers at all hours of the day. He gave her baths every day to make sure she smelled nice and clean. And when she turned 1 years old and was getting more active, he took her to the studio with him and let her play her toys.
Just because Harry is a single parent doesn't mean he doesn't have help or support. He has a lot of help when it comes to taking care of his daughter. His sister Gemma babysits all the time for him when he's got something very important to do at the studio where he'd prefer if his daughter wasn't there. Harry's mum watches his daughter frequently when he has a interview he needs to attend. Even some of Harry's friends watch or take care of her when needed. Especially some of his ex bandmates that have kids of their own now. Harry's daughter has playdates with Bear, Liam's son about once a month. They're about the same age and their dads are friends so it works out great. His daughter has even played with Freddie, Louis's son. Not as much because Freddie lives in America but when he comes to England to spend time with his father they hang out. Freddie and Harry's daughter are quite similar. They were both created due to a one-night stand. The only difference is Freddie's mum wanted him. Didn't abandon him. So he has a relationship with both parents. Needless to say, besides all the things a mother can give to their child, his daughter has a good life. People love her, and once again that's all Harry could ask for. People and himself to love his daughter.
After fighting with his daughter about what to eat for breakfast, she finally settles for some Strawberry pancakes as long as they have chocolate syrup on top. Harry gives in and allows a little chocolate for her to have with breakfast. She sits in her high chair munching on the pancakes while Harry cleans the mess from cooking. Like washing the pan and wiping the stove off. When he's finished cleaning, he notices his daughter has stopped eating and is just making a mess with her food at this point.
Walking up to her high chair, Harry bends down and lifts her sticky body up and says, "Alright, time to give you a bath little one."
"No bath daddy! Me no want a bath!" she yells and attempts to kick her fathers legs but Harry grabs ahold of them in his big hand and stops her movements which makes her small body more angry. She screams very loud in his ear and pounds her baby fist in his shoulders, expressing her anger. Harry really wants to get upset. But what he's read in parenting books is that if you ignore their behavior and act like you don't see their tantrums, it will make it better and they'll give up on trying so hard to show their anger.  Because most toddlers have tantrums to try and get attention from their parent(s). By ignoring it, you're not feeding into it.
"I'm sorry but you have chocolate all over you love. Need to get you clean because I need to take you to the studio for a few hours with me today. How does that sound?" trying to make bath time and going to the studio sound fun.
After fighting with Darcy to get in the bath, Harry finally got her in the tub. He struggled to wash her curly hair due to the fact she wouldn't sit still, even after he gave her a rubber ducky to play with. Once he's washed her hair and chocolate covered body, Harry picks her up and wraps her in a big fluffy towel, then takes her to her room to get changed. He manages to get a pull up on her, (still trying to potty train), and puts a lovely red track suit on her with some Gucci shoes. Then he carries her in front of the bathroom mirror to brush her hair.
"Be good for daddy and let me brush your hair." Harry tells his daughter in a gentle manner.
As soon as he passes the brush in her hair, his daughter screams, "Owww, it hurts daddy!"
10 minutes later, Harry has brushed her locks and put her hair into some cute pigtails. With his 2 year old crying in the process. He's pretty good at doing hair because he used to have longer hair himself. Then he picks her up off the counter and places her on the ground, walking her to his bedroom.
"Can you lay in my bed while I get ready? I'll put on your favorite show." he questions calmly.
"Peppa Pig, Peppa Pig, Peppa Pig!" is daughter chants.
"Alright, alright." He picks up his baby girl and sets her in the middle of his bed. Then he grabs the remote to turn his wall mounted tv on. He scrolls on Netflix and finds Peppa Pig to keep her occupied. Then goes to his bathroom to get dressed and ready to head to the studio.
When he exits his bathroom fully dressed and ready to leave, he finds a sleeping toddler on his bed, snuggled into his pillow. Her perfectly outlined lips slightly parted. Harry can't help but smile. He loves his baby girl with his entirety and seeing her peaceful like this makes him so happy. He turns the tv off and carefully picks her up into his arms and heads down the stairs to his car in the garage. But not before stopping by her room to pick up her mini backpack that holds extra pullups and a sippy cup full of juice, with some of her toys as well. Her tiny face is stuffed into her daddy's neck and Harry can feel light puffs of air hitting his skin. He puts his daughter in her car seat and buckles her up properly. Then gets in himself to drive to the studio.
About 5 minutes away from the studio, Darcy wakes up from her late morning nap and whines out, "Me wanna go home and play with you!"
"I'm sorry but I have to work for a little bit. I'll play with you when we get home later. How does that sound Hmm?" She was not satisfied with her fathers answer and starts wailing. Hot salty tears run down her little cheeks and she makes exaggerated sounds to emphasize her crying. She kicks at the seat in front of her and balls her fist up as if she's going to hit something but unfortunately to her, she can't reach a single thing due to her seat belt. Once again, Harry just ignores her cries of anger and turns the radio on loud to block it out.
By the time they arrive at the studio, Harry's daughter has calmed down. She's still upset but at least she isn't crying and that's progress in Harry's eyes. He parks his car in a secluded area to hide from potential paparazzi and unbuckles her. Then shields her face form potential cameras and make their way into the music studio. Harry has to record some audio for his newest album so that's why he needed to come in today. They enter the studio where the rest of his solo band is. He prefers to record the instruments live instead of manufactured drums and guitars.
At some point when he was getting ready in his home bathroom, Harry had called his assistant and told her he needed to bring his daughter in to the studio with him so she could watch her while he's busy. She agreed but being Harry Styles assistant, it wasn't really an option. Not that Harry would force her but she's an assistant for a reason. To do jobs Harry assigns her. In this case babysit his toddler while he records a song. He doesn't have anyone else today and unfortunately can't leave her at home with a mummy like many other fathers can. He's just happy his job allows his daughter to be somewhat a part of it. Not in the spotlight because he keeps his daughters identity a secret from the public for her protection, but as far as her going to the studio with him or when she gets older, she can come on tour with him.
Harry's assistant takes his toddler and her mini backpack full of her essentials. They hang out in the open area, out of the way from his band and he himself so he can get what he needs to get done so they can wrap everything up for the album. Harry's daughter actually loves his assistant. They have grown quite close over the 2 years of her life. But because she's going through her terrible twos, the toddler didn't want to behave for anyone today.
About an hour into Harry's work, he's interrupted with a frantic assistant that has a screaming toddler in her arms. "I'm sorry Harry but she's been crying for about 30 minutes and I've done everything I know to do to get her to calm down." Harry isn't upset his assistant came to him for help with his baby. That's not the type of guy he is.
Harry takes off his headphones and walks over to them. He picks his little girl up into his tattooed arms and questions, "Love, why are you upset for? If you keep crying, you'll end up with a tummy ache."
She just hugs around her fathers neck with her little arms and says, "Want you daddy." Those words almost breaks his heart. Harry doesn't know where this sudden want for him has came from.
"You can have me all you want when I'm finished working, alright. I'll be done shortly." He struggles to pass her back over to his assistant, but finally manages. "Maybe she's hungry. I'll give you a few pounds to take her through drive thru at McDonalds. Would you like McDonalds d/n?" She just nods her pigtailed head. He would suggest for them to go inside, but the public knows what his assistant looks like so they'd know that was his daughter. The daughter that has her identity secret for now. His assistant takes the toddler to the McDonalds drive thru and orders her some chicken nuggets. Even through Harrys pescatarian, he still allows his daughter to eat meats. Then Harry goes back to work in the studio.
Around 2 in the afternoon, Harry and the two year old make it back home. The rest of the evening was a little hectic with a few tantrums here and there. Harry cooked them a nice meal for dinner at about 6 and played dolls with her in the short period of time she wasn't upset. Then comes the dreaded bedtime.
Harry changes her into some pjs and helps her brush her teeth. Then when he went to put her in bed, she started crying for the 100th time today. "Me sleep with you daddy." she cries out. There's a part of him that wants to say yes and cave in, but the parent part of him is saying no. She needs to learn to be a big girl. Harry really doesn't understand why she wants to sleep with him all the sudden. She normally has no problem sleeping by herself.
"No baby. You need to be a big girl and sleep in your bed sweetheart. I'm right next door if you need me though okay." His daughter clings to his body and cries fat tears. Harry decides to stay in her room until she falls asleep. So that's what he does. When she subsumes to sleep, he lays her down in her bed and pulls the covers up over her frail body. Then exits her room quietly.
Harry changes into some comfier clothes himself and goes down stairs to get himself a glass of wine. Then he sits on the sofa and turns a series on to watch before bed. Times like now is when  he wishes he had a wife. He'd even take a girlfriend. Just someone to hold him late at night and cuddle with him. Even have some type of intimacy. Ever since he found out about his daughter, Harrys game of sleeping around stopped. He didn't want to keep sleeping with random girls when he was becoming a dad. He was raised better than that. So needless to say he was lonely. In every way possible. Mentally, and physically.
Whilst in the middle of the show he's watching, Harry is brought back to reality when he hears a blood-curdling scream from up the stairs. He rushes to set his wine down on the coffee table and runs to his daughters room. When he walks in there, his heart sinks. The toddler is crying so hard she's gasping for air. It's a different cry that he's seen through-out the day. Unlike her terrible twos tantrums, this cry sounds like she's scared. Harry runs to her and picks her up. "Hey what's wrong my love? Tell daddy what's wrong." he asks of his child, soothing her to his chest.
As her tears slow down in the comfort of her daddy's arms, she mumbles, "You left me." Once again Harrys confused because she never acts like this.
Harry walks out her bedroom and goes to sit with her on the sofa downstairs. Then he turns her around on his lap to look at her face more clearly. "Baby, you need to tell daddy why you got scared or why you want me all the sudden."
The little 2 year old takes a deep breath and speaks in her little accent, "On Peppa Pig, they...they said kids like me are supposed to have a mummy AND a daddy. They said daddies can't love their babies like mummy's can. Me was scared you don't love me anymore." Her voice cracked saying the last bit with fresh tears running down her face and Harry has glossy eyes looking down at his distressed but beautiful mini twin. That's right. They look almost exactly alike. He thanks God every day for that because he doesn't want to look at his daughter and be reminded of a one-night stand that's a piece of shit of a mother.
"Look at me d/n. I love you so so so much. I will NEVER stop loving you." at this point he has to take a deep breath so compose his emotions, "And not all kids have mummies. There are a lot of kids who just have a daddy or some just have a mummy. But it doesn't mean I love you any less. Okay?! Don't listen to what they said in Peppa Pig. They were wrong." Finishing his speech, Harry pulls her tiny body forward and hugs her to his warm chest. He has silent tears running down his face. Both hands spread over her boney back. He thinks tonight is appropriate enough to allow her to sleep with him. She needs comfort. "Would you still like to sleep with me?" he asks in a whisper.
"Pleaseee." she responds while crying. Harry stands form the couch, turning the television off and abandoning his barley touched wine glass, and goes to his bedroom. The turns the overhead light off and walks over to the bed. Peeling the covers back, Harry and his daughter, whose on his chest, slide under the warm blankets together. Now she has just about stopped crying. Just little whimpers leaving her body, along with a few hiccups. Harry reaches over to turn the lamp off, leaving the room completely dark. He shushes his baby until her eyes slowly close and she falls asleep with her face burred in his neck and arms around his neck. Her short legs lay limp over his stomach.
Harry has a difficult time falling asleep that night. He feels sorry for his baby girl because he worries that movies and shows with two parents will make her sad and left out because she doesn't have a mummy. He just prays she will see all she'll ever need is her daddy to protect her and love her for the rest of eternity.
MASTERLIST & My Favorite Harry Styles Fics MASTERLIST
163 notes · View notes
jungshookz · 3 years
Text
teeny tidbits: namjoon and y/n can’t get enough of each other & it shows
Tumblr media
➳ pairing; kim namjoon x y/n
➳ genre; lveb!universe!!! smaybe/smalmost/smerhaps smut?? slightly suggestive is what i’m trying to say idk!! namjoon and y/n are obsessed with each other and yoongi likes making a big deal about it because both their faces get really red and it’s funny to him 
➳ wordcount; 1.7k
➳ gif sourced from here but please note that it still remains property of its original maker!
                                      »»————- ♥ ————-««
“hello, hellooo!” yoongi kicks the door shut behind him as he steps into your apartment, tossing his set of keys up into the air before catching it and shoving it into his hoodie pocket, “let’s rock n’ roll, y/n! i’m ready to raid the supermarket!” he claps his hands as he enters the living room, turning to stare down the empty hallway before pausing
wow
the most exciting part of his week is when you guys go grocery shopping together?
there’s really no way to make that sound even remotely cool 
“…anyone home?” yoongi’s brows furrow in concern when he’s acknowledged by nothing but the sound of silence, “y/n?”
you’re usually sitting on the couch buzzing and ready to go when he gets here so it’s a little concerning that you weren’t the first thing he saw when he got here
he turns back to look at the shoe rack, everything suddenly clicking into place when he sees that there’s a pair of larger, definitely-not-y/n-sized sneakers sitting neatly on the top shelf
ahhhhh
okay
now he understands what’s going on
no wonder you barely responded to any of his texts yesterday
you were too busy getting busy with-
“yoongi! good morning!”
“morni-” yoongi turns his head back towards the hallway quickly, his brows practically stretching up to his hairline at the sight of namjoon’s current state
first of all, the man is wearing nothing but a blanket around his waist and it’s pretty clear to see that he’s not wearing any briefs underneath 
second of all, his cheeks are flushed, his hair is ruffled, and his skin is glowing
and yoongi isn’t a self-proclaimed genius but he knows that two plus two makes four 
“wow, wow, wow! good morning indeed-” yoongi whistles, immediately looking upwards as to avoid accidentally making eye contact with namjoon’s… fifth lim- “i’m hoping that’s a cactus under your blanket and that you’re not just ecstatic to see me-” 
“oh-!” namjoon gasps lightly, quickly pulling the blanket up a little higher before turning his hips in the other direction, “i, um, i didn’t know you were coming over today!“ he chuckles awkwardly, his grip tightening on the sheets, “i just came out for some water so i wasn’t expecting to see you- uh, did you have plans with y/n today?”
“yeah, it’s sunday, so… grocery shopping and stuff.” yoongi looks back down before holding his hand up to shield namjoon’s lower half from his poor, innocent eyes, “you’re welcome to come with us, but i’m definitely going to need you to at least put some underwear on-”
“today’s sunday?” namjoon breathes out, pausing for a second before blinking quickly and shaking his head, “jeez, i thought it was saturday! time flies, huh?”
“it sure does…” the corner of yoongi’s mouth twitches in a smirk before he pokes his tongue against the inside of his cheek, “…especially when you’re spending most of it railing y/n into oblivion-”
“yoongi-”
“speaking of y/n!” yoongi claps his hands and rubs them together, “is she ready to go?” he hums, leaning over slightly so he can peer into the hallway over namjoon’s shoulder 
“she’s, um, she’s actually still in bed but but i’ll go and tell her now that you’re waiting for her-” namjoon smiles sheepishly before pointing towards the kitchen, “do you want coffee or anything? i can make a latte for you! i’ve been practicing a lot with my frother- y/n really likes my milk foam-”
“oh, i bet she does-” yoongi snorts, leaning against the back of the couch before crossing his arms, “maybe next time, my man. you just go and get y/n for m- holy shit!” his eyes widen as soon as namjoon spins around to head back down the hallway, namjoon immediately turning back to glance at yoongi over his shoulder in concern
“what??”
“your back!” yoongi gawks, getting up from the couch to go over and force namjoon to turn back around so he can get a better look, “jesus, it looks like you got into a fight with like, ten cats!” he exclaims, his eyes glued on the fading red claw marks that start at namjoon’s shoulders and end at his lower back
he brushes his fingers over the (obviously fresh) half-crescent nail marks embedded on the tops of namjoon’s shoulders before wincing to himself, “maybe i should’ve gotten y/n a nail clipper for christmas-”
“o-oh-!” namjoon whips back around so that his back is facing the hallway before he reaches up to rub the back of his neck, offering yoongi a nervous smile, “i, uh, it’s- i’m totally fine, don’t even worry about it-”
“joonie, i-” yoongi perks up when he hears your voice only for you to pop out from behind namjoon a second later, “yoongi! ...you’re here?” you ask, ducking behind namjoon slightly and peeking at him over his shoulder
“it’s sunday, moron.”
“...?”
“oh, dear god-” yoongi gasps suddenly, eyes widening as he brings a hand up to cover his mouth, “namjoon fucked you dumb, didn’t he? i bet that banging your head against the headboard multiple times made you lose a bunch of brain cells. now i'm going to have to be the smart one out of the two of us??”
you roll your eyes immediately at yoongi’s sarcastic remark, though his comment about namjoon makes your cheeks warm slightly 
last week you slept over at his apartment so this week it was your turn to be a good host
and naturally…
let’s just say that you showed him how good of a host you were on the kitchen counter,,.., in bed,,.. on the couch,.,. in the hallway,.., in bed again.,.,
“anyway- how long do you need to get ready? twenty minutes?” yoongi pulls his phone out of his back pocket to check the time, “i wanna get my hands on a fresh, warm loaf of sourdough so we have to leave soon otherwise they’re all going to be gone and we’ll have to wait, like, five hours for the bakery to restock.” 
“right! yes! sourdough!” you clear your throat, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear as you sort through your thoughts
you didn’t know today was sunday so you weren’t ready to go grocery shopping at aLL 
 “okay! coffee first, then i’ll change, then we go-” you nod, nudging namjoon aside so you can brush past him 
“yeah, i think i’m gonna pop in the shower-” namjoon clears his throat, pulling the blanket up again before gesturing back towards the hallway, “i’m happy to stay here if you guys wanna go off and do your yoongi-y/n-only activities-”
“woah, woah-” 
you don’t get the chance to walk past yoongi before he’s reaching over and pinching the back of your shirt to keep you from going anywhere
you let out a little yelp when he tugs you back abruptly before twirling you around so that you’re facing namjoon 
“kim namjoon, you naughty, naughty man! what did you do to y/n??”
“wha- what?” namjoon blinks owlishly, yoongi tsking shamefully before wagging a finger at him 
“look!” yoongi gasps, hooking his finger into the collar of the shirt you’re wearing before yanking it down so he can expose more of your skin, “what, were you trying to suck the blood out of her??”
heat immediately rushes up namjoon’s neck and up to his ears when he realizes that yoongi’s referring to the multiple blotches of purple and red staining your skin 
maybe he got a little carried away last night 
but there were no complaints on your end so namjoon was more than happy to mark you up!
“he-” your face flushes and you slap yoongi’s hand away before pulling your shirt up to hide them, “they’re just hickies, yoongi-”
“first of all, only horny teenagers give each other hickies- second of all, hickies are supposed to be sexy little secrets-” yoongi hums, seemingly uncaring of the way that you wince as soon as he jabs his pointer finger directly into one of them (ow!!), “and these practically scream I’M GETTING LAID and every single single person that we pass by is going to glare at you-”
“why don’t you go and make us some coffee while i go and get changed?” you turn to give yoongi a warning look before pointing to the kitchen door, “go!” 
“i’m just looking out for the two of you!” yoongi raises his hands in defense, letting out a laugh as when you start kicking at him gently all while slowly nudging him towards the direction of the kitchen, “is it so bad of me to want to protect you from mr. mosquito over ther- ow, okay, okay-!”
you close the kitchen door shut with a breath, rolling your eyes at the sound of yoongi still babbling away to himself (“i’m realizing now that a vampire would’ve been a sexier example but mr. mosquito was the first thing that came to my head-”)
you turn your head slowly with your hand still on the doorknob, you and namjoon exchanging glances before bursting into giggles 
“sorry... you know how he gets.” you mutter sheepishly, making sure the door is closed properly before making your way back over to namjoon
“it’s all good!” he flicks his wrist at you before reaching up to rub the back of his neck sheepishly, “sorry about the, uh, the hickies.”
“it’s okay... i like ‘em, so...” you confess quietly, your stomach fluttering at the memory of namjoon’s soft lips pressing against your skin, “sorry about the scratches.” 
“no, i like them too... they remind me that i’m probably doing a good job-” namjoon grins as he slips his free arm around your waist before pulling you towards him, another soft giggle bubbling from your lips when he swoops down to give you a kiss, “guess i’ll hold down the fort while you’re gone… i’ll miss you.”
“i’ll only be gone for a couple of hours…” you tease, reaching up to pinch his cheeks together so that his lips turn squidgy, “needy.”
“for god’s sake, i’m taking her grocery shopping, i’m not sending her off to space!” the kitchen door suddenly swings open as yoongi busts through, clapping his hands loudly to break the two of you up before he flicks his wrists to get you to move, “c’mon, let’s get a move on- i want my sourdough!” 
✨why don’t you explore the rest of the library while you’re here?
💫or perhaps you want something shorter to read?
🌟or something even shorter? 
435 notes · View notes
ringmyheart · 3 years
Note
Dating Johan headcanons? Your Vinjin one was literal ✨gold✨ and yk so now i'm super curious about how you'd think dating Johan would be like.
Thank you!! 😭 I hope I did this well <33 also a warning, skip to where I wrote [HERE] if you’re uncomfortable w reading anything ab religion. Also I didn’t mean to offend any religion I am religious myself and didn’t specify any to avoid saying something incorrectly !
Tumblr media
If you’re religious, he’s very VERY wary and cautious. Not of you but of the people you’re with, and it worries him a LOT
If u tell him ur hanging out with church friends he’s either insisting he comes too or asking a suspicious amount of questions of ur whereabouts and watching u from afar. He’ll probably step in on accident cuz he saw them like reach for ur shoulder or smmn and intervene cuz he thought like u were ab to get kidnapped but they were just gonna bring ur awareness to the food store around u, he’d be so on edge
He doesn’t like entering churches but if u go and u won’t negotiate on wether u can or can’t go, he’ll risk it all and come too
He’ll rough up the preacher after the service tho like “what’s your thing ???? Like what do you do.” And ask them questions completely unrelated and honestly kind of confusing to intimidate them
Like, “oh so this is all u do? U just preach?”
“Uh, yeah I love my job and am devoted. :) 👍”
“u have no other job? Nothing?”
“No...”
“R u married?”
“Yep!”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
“What??”
And he meant like yeah good keep ur eyes off of u his s/o or SMM but it came out off putting and frankly indiscernible 😭
While in the service he might even start to shake cuz he’s so worried if he sees AC or hears it running he’ll grab ur hand and book it cuz he thinks ur being poisoned 😭
[HERE]
Likes to share things with you, like clothes and all. U know that black jacket he always wears it’s also ALWAYS on u too
Half of it is cuz he’s stingy w money naturally so it’s like less money spent if u guys r sharing ur food and clothes and all
So ur always wearing his stuff but in return he’s always wearing urs and like even shoes. If ur taller than him and have clothes that were his size he has ur old wardrobe in his closet now as hand me downs
HE PROBABLY wraps ur shirt around his wrist as a good luck charm before fights. Before he gets into a showdown he’ll wrap it around like his arm and kiss it and say ur name or whatever and he swears if he does this tradition he cannot lose he won’t let himself
Because u don’t spend much money, u have wired earphones (nothing wrong w that ofc) HOWEVER if ur listening to music together and he runs into someone he has beef with he’ll start swinging and ur just there like 🧍🏽‍♀️ cuz the earphones r still connected and he’s fighting to the death w like sweet but psycho playing in the background
He loves physical activities to do together. If ur not active u probably will be now forcefully bc he’ll be like please and u can’t say no so now ur hiking every day
Forgets to wait up for u bc he gets rlly ahead of himself the amount of times u get lost on the trail is unbelievable and he eventually establishes the “if u lose me, HUG A TREE AND I WILL FIND YOU” rule w u and now three times a week ur hugging a tree and waiting for him to come pick u up in the middle of the woods
He’ll apologize and tries to teach u the layout but u don’t memorize it ever
Also loves biking and gets u matching bikes, likes walking the dogs w u, going on runs etc. if u cannot run he grabs ur hand and is all its okay u got this :)) like thanks for the sentiment but it doesn't help💀
DO NOT DO HOBBIES W THIS MF!!!!!!!!! If u like to dance and tell him he’ll do it with you and within two days he leagues better than you it would suck
He is so good at picking things up if u play just dance for fun he will kick ur ass and ur like bro I thought we were just playing having fun wtf 😕 and he genuinely wasn’t even trying
So if ur competitive don’t put him on the hobbies ur into cuz he will start it a beginner and be better than u within three days
He’ll feel so bad tho if he finds out u don’t like it. Like when u drew stuff he’d sit by u and draw too and when u saw he was advancing to surpass u u stopped. He thought u just grew out of it but finds u in like a closet drawing to hide from him
But he loves doing stuff ur interested in w u even if it’s something he was never into. If u like it he likes it by association
The type of boyfriend to buy you ten fruits if you say you like one.
In passing you mention liking watermelon the next day you come home there are ten on your counter and he’s like hey :DD!
Gets you a matching dog god jacket like him so u two and ur dogs r matching always
He doesn’t care if you’re wrong, he will die defending you!!! U r always in the right what do u mean the total cost is 10.00$?? What do u mean it says 10$ on the register?? They said it was 8$ u heard them
He’s pretty reserved when it comes to personal stuff and just everything in general. U will be three years into the relationship and realize u don’t know what his last name is??!!!
He’s a “I didn’t see why it was so important” mf... if u ask ab his past or occupation he’ll tell you but in a way that underplays it extremely. Because he isn’t that ready to be vulnerable and open up as well as thinking u might not care or you’ll leave him
He’s a pretty jump-y person because he had to be alert and on his toes most of the time. If you surprise him by accident by being too quiet then appearing right by him he’ll jump three feet up like a cat or sock you in the face then apologize profusely and tear up feeling horrible
He’s pretty perceptive but when caught off gaurd he gets very nervous, can’t help it
While watching tv shows or bingeing a series he will narrate everytning to u. Because he really enjoys the show and wants to make sure u understand in the fullest too and enjoy it. If he didn’t understand sometning in the beginning but then understands you HAVE to know too
“Oh my god he just shot him....”
“The dog RUNS AWAY!?”
“She said she loves him oh my gosh...”
“They’re kissing?”
Like yes Johan.... we know.... if you tell him he’ll stop but it’s like programmed in his DNA to not shut up while watching tv he can’t help it
He’ll also pause the show to turn to u and go “I KNOW HIM!!”
And ur like “rlly?? OMGG”
And he’ll go “YEAH he’s also in that other show remember :O” and u realize he does not know him recognizes him
😑😔 .
He’s not that updated on internet and how humor has progressed over the past few years so if u send him any meme over 2015 he will be so confused
Tumblr media
Send this and he’ll text back “😅 why did you send me this?”
“Is that sonic?”
“Are these your texts with someone?”
Otherwise he’s a pretty normal texted. He uses punctuation sometimes which will throw u off gaurd cuz it will be like “I love you.” And it’s like sweet but why did he add the period?? But he doesn’t always so it’s regular
If playing sports or doing something competitive he threatens everyone in the beginning to let you win and always lets u get the score/goal/net, whatever. He pulls everyone into him prengame by their collar and is like “listen ur letting them win got that. If I see u take that ball from them....”
He’s a helicopter boyfriend he is always seeing what ur doing what ur up to how u are, etc. protective to a fault basically
Holds u back when crossing the street as if ur seven years old
I have more I could say, but I’ll inevitable write another johan relationship hcs some day again so I’ll save it for then 😅 I hope this was what I wanted! Thank you for requesting ❤️❤️
294 notes · View notes
Hot Chocolate (Birthday/Christmas Special)
Summary: Levi is bound to spend this birthday on his own, seeing that you're halfway across the globe as an exchange uni student. What he doesn't know though is that you have planned a huge surprise for him. NSFW 18+
Notes: sorry for any mistake you guyss please enjoy this
Pairing: Levi/ Reader 
Tags: f l uff, nsfw
Warnings: nsfw, the sexies
Disclaimer: I do not own the gif, I simply found it on Pinterest.
Tumblr media
White heavy cream fell fluidly out of the carton it was stored, squeezed by Levi's calloused hand and into the small metallic pot that he rested his other hand onto. The mixture, an aromatic, dark brown hot chocolate, lightened in color upon a few stirs of his tool. Slowly with his hand he disposed of the empty carton in the recycling bin, making sure to wipe any stray droplet of white on the counter.
He blinked as his mind went blank, forgetting the next step of the recipe but only momentarily. His thoughts once again traveled to what troubled him, but he continued with his stirring in fear of burning the beverage he was set on making. With his teeth sinking dangerously at the tip of his tongue what he needed clicked in his head. Corn flour. A quorter of a cup.
He didn't bother tasting the mixture as he lowered the fire of the stove to the minimum, he simply marched to the corner built in cupboard, hands searching furiously for the porcelain vase that held this oh so precious corn flour that would act as the stabilizing factor to his hot chocolate beverage.
Seconds later he brought the fire to an halt absurdly, never ceasing with his stirring careful as to not have the mixture stick to the pot. He didn't like his chocolate adorned with burnt flakes or the taste they brought to his mouth neither did he like cleaning the burnt pot before having to pop it in the washing machine. As his hands reached for the cups he had set beside the stove beforehand to his alchemy, he helped the thick mixture in with a spoon.
The cups were immediately transfered inside the over; an attempt to keep them from any predatory fly that could have entered the apartment before Levi had a chance to realise and in addition keeping them sheltered as they reached a drinkable temperature. Levi threw the pot into the sink next, sighing to himself as he grabbed his thick latex gloves and out them on his hands. With a twist of his hand at the handle the watered started running on his gloves hands pot making him grab his steel wool.
His hand came to his forehead, wiping some sweat as he sighed again, hanging his head low as he gritted his teeth in frustration. His eyes squinted in anger, his hands dug into the inox of his sink and his heart sink dangerously low as he felt the room run cold due to the sun quickly setting behind the horizon.
Why had he made that chocolate, it beat him. The two of you hadn't spoken in at least two days and he liked -or rather chose- to blame it on your busy studying schedule, rather than the fight the two of you had over that call two nights ago. He had been to angry to admit he was acting like a brat to you, he had been too proud to simply say that he wanted your attention, instead he had resolved his anger into grumpiness, causing your overworked mind to snap.
You were gone as an exchange student in Japan for too long and both your busy schedules and the enormous time difference had dug their ways into Levi's life very negatively. Before you he had never lonely when he was alone, but now, now that he had gotten a taste of what it was to be with you, now that you had been ripped away from him from so long, he definitely felt lonely. And angry. And it killed him that he was almost on time for your arranged video chat, when you didn't even show any sign of being in existence still.
It made his boil though, by now, it must have been the 26th in Japan and you had spent your day ignoring him, not even bothering to open his message. Had he been so cruel to you while admitting he wanted you here with him? Was it that you didn't have enough decency to let him you know you were alright? That was what he simply wanted to know, in the end.
Sighing again he ripped the gloves off his hands and grabbed his phone. His fingertip touching the button provided him immediate access to his homescreen and he quickly entered Instagram dragging the homepage down a couple of times to let it load any new activity. Internally he knew, he would have been glad if he was to see a story or a post by you, any sign that you were alright would do for him.
Of course, as if on cue to shake him of his miserable thoughts his phone rang, buzzing in his palm. His eyes fell on the small window the revealed the caller id to him. It was Erwin, naturally, as he always used to shower him with phone calls on his birthday even up until the moment he was at his front door. Levi didn't missed out on those signs of affection, it's was quite the opposite really. He cherished them deeply. Seeing how much of an impact he had on his friends' lives moved him whether he showed it or not.
And so, while holding back his saddened sigh he picked up the phone, greeting his friend through greeted teeth.
"Hey Levi, uhm, I kind of need you at the moment, am I interrupting anything?"
"No," Levi spoke, biting painfully on the inside of his cheek in an attempt to hold himself back from sprinting out on his frustration. Of course Erwin could try and hide behind his finger, Levi knew that much. The blond was aware he wasn't interrupting anything, but he was still kind enough to ask; he always was sappily kind when it came to such sensitive subjects.
"Great look, I'm on route twenty two, fifth exit, I'm out of gas can you please come to my rescue and bring me some?" Erwin paused for a moment and then proceeded to mumble through an overly amused breath "I'm sorry I'm doing this to you tonight."
"Did you take your father's run down car again?" Levi questioned.
"No... yes. I'm sorry Levi I felt like I wanted to drive his car tonight. I shouldn't have to drag you here too, I'm sorry."
"No it's fine," Levi bit back, hissing at Erwin's unhealthy habit of wanting to drive his father's antique due to its sentimental worth. But then again, he reminded himself he wasn't in a place to judge. "Give me 15 and I'll be there."
Fidgeting his fingers on the counter without throwing a second look he came in contact with his car keys. The familiar jiggling sound gritted through the air proudly as Levi pierced his finger inside the key loop, finally pressing the keys steady to his palm. With another grunt, he hang up the phone, bringing the device to the palm of his hand once again.
His mind begged him to open his texts with you again -his initial goal ever since the moment he opened his phone- just to stare at the screen or at his unopened text, his insides begged to boil with concern at the process but he figured had all night to do so, prolonging his misery could definitely wait now that Erwin was in need. And thus he simply marched to the hanger behind his front door, eager much to quickly get a hold of his warmest jacket before having to step out in the cold apartment corridor and consequentially outside in the cold December weather.
___
You forced Hange to suppress her giggles as you slipped the metallic key inside the lock to your shared apartment with Levi. With an exaggerated jump though Hange let out another scream fill the air, ignoring yet another playful rasped gaze you consequentially threw her. Laughter bubbled from the both of you as you kept on locking eyes, amused by the upcoming execution of your plan.
The plan was simple really. You had Erwin call Levi for any emergency he could come up with and only when he left the house you and Hange would sneak in, light up the aromatic candles you spent weeks picking. You would make some hot buttered rum and light the fireplace to warm up the house. Then, Hange would leave right when Erwin would call you to announce that Levi was on his way back and you'd wait for him with the biggest smile on your face.
"Okay now let's see how much time we have." You said and rubbed your hands together to warm them up. Leaning with one hand over the wall you moved the heel of your left foot on top of your right one, pressing down enough so you could wiggle your foot out of the shoe. Doing the same for your other foot, you removed your jacket and hung it behind the door.
"Erwin said it will take Levi about twenty minutes to get to him, they shall spend about ten to fifteen minutes fueling his car, but he promised he'd try his best to delay Levi if we need to. And then add another ten minutes for him to get back." Hange spoke, fixing her glasses onto her nose.
"You think I have enough time to take a bath?"
Making sure to slip her shoes off after you, Hange nodded in your direction and proceeded to set her heavy backpack on the couch. One by one she took the candles and a lighter out, eventually smirking to herself as she tried to come up with a plan on how to neatly set them around the living room.
"Hange!" Can you put those in the bedroom?" You spoke, ripping your shirt off of you before your finger came to graze the side of your mouth as your mind sunk in your thoughts.
"Ha!" Hange huffed "as if you're even going to make it to the bedroom!"
Your cheeks burned as she spoke, eyes widening slightly at how your mind told you she was completely right. Of course you and Levi wouldn't make it to the bedroom at least until later tonight. It had been months since you had last seen him and it was his birthday, you wouldn't even be able to rip yourself off of his arms. Thus you simply threw a mellow smile at Hange as you sprint to the kitchen checking to see if you had all the ingredients you'd need to make your choice of drink.
Coincidentally, you opened the oven and your eyes immediately fell on what was inside. Your expression softened as two grey toned cups shone in your orbs, the smell they emitted deliciously filling your nostrils. You smiled to your self as you thought about how your lover didn't miss out on making your traditional Christmas drink.
It was unbelievable how kind hearted Levi was, in contrary to what people thought of him, you thought. Most of the times -and simply because he didn't allow otherwise- the only thing people who weren't close to him saw was a cold demeanor, a sharp tongue and a foul mouth. It all would be too ironic if they knew how Levi was behind closed doors. Taking notice of small everyday details, sticking to his beloved routine, cherishing moments with his loved ones, remembering everything most people would ignore about others and showing his love in the sweetest yet most Levi way were only a few of his virtues.
Of course he wouldn't miss on making your favorite strawberry scented thick hot chocolate, even if you had spent the last few days not speaking to him, even if as of now he remained ignorant as to why. You assumed he believe it was about that ridiculous fight and you could admit you purposefully riled him just enough for him not to expect to see you. You were sure, seeing he had shown a previous liking in surprises like this, that his jaw would hit the floor when he'd see you.
Guilt rushed through you at the thought of you making him feel miserable even in the slightest, but Hange couldn't just have you standing there, sulking in your anxiety over how things had led up to this moment. If you wanted to make it in time for when Levi came home you'd have to rush. Hange insisted on shooing you out of the kitchen and into the bathroom, urging you to act fast, before Levi came. Sensing she was right, you settled for running to retrieve a new pair of underwear and a clean towel before jumping in the shower.
Stretching your arms to close the curtain behind you as you stepped on the white marble tiles you twisted the faucet handle to the right, letting a deep sigh escape from the depths of your chest as the hot water started running.
___
The sound of keys jiggling together filled what should have been an empty apartment, making Levi's arrival known only to you who stood inside the kitchen. He stepped inside a few seconds later, ripping his shoes off of his feet before slipping into his fuzzy slippers.
His hands immediately reached for the wipes and rubbing alcohol he kept on a stand right next to the door, silently grabbing a wipe and coating it in the strong smelling disinfectant before bringing it to his phone and keys. He spent a good minute cleaning the items meticulously only stopping when he felt satisfied to set them on the stand. He took a step to turn around with his goal to walk to the kitchen and heat up his got chocolate. Judging by the time he could still try to reach out to you before the day ended.
With a quick glance around the room, though he found himself freezing in his spot.
"Great, now I'm so shit mad I'm seeing fucking things." Levi announced -seemingly only to his own self- the moment he laid his gray orbs upon you.
"No Levi, you're not seeing things baby."
Standing up for your seat on the kitchen table you shot him an adorning look; your eyes squinted and your cheeks puffed up, coated in a sheer scarlett color. You silently watched as his eyes grew impossibly wide, flickering between you and each lit candle that showered the room in plenty of romantic golden light.
His legs were slightly trembling, his knees going weak at the sudden need to intake all of what was unraveling before him, but with his heart hammering in his whole body he only managed to part his lips before even beginning to thing if what to utter.
"Merry Christmas and happy birthday my Vee." You smiled again, mouthing the tooth rotting sweet nickname as you walked to him with open arms and a longing look on your face.
He wasted no time, even if his head was starting to buzz in confusion and uncertainty, he bucked in his stand before sprinting towards you. His hands quickly wrapped under your bum, lifting you up on him while prompting you to wrap your legs around his waist. With painfully squinted eyes his nose nuzzled up between your neck and your chest, inhaling your magnetising aura sharply as he span you around. You wrapped your arms around him tightly, embracing his head in a loving manner as you couldn't supress your bubbling giggles.
His strong grip on you wasn't ceasing, not even for a moment as he began mouthing his questions; he didn't even care that his voice was muffled by your own form.
"How- I mean when?" He spoke and only hugged you tigher onto him.
"Well, you thought I'd ever miss this day?" You placed a kiss on the top of his hairline. "I was supposed to be here days ago but my flight got delayed, so Erwin and and Hange came up with this surprise plan."
Levi's hands loosened their grip on you slowly was you tried to slide down his body carefully; this breathtaking moment could only ever last for so long, Levi figured as he set you down. Kissing you was the next task he assigned to himself, but it could only happen after he got a good look at your face.
God, he had missed you so much.
So many months had passed since the last time he had been graced with seeing you this close to him and in the moment what he was witnessing almost felt too unreal. Your tender eyes looked into his with adoration and warmth, your chest dwelled with tainted breaths as your hands slowly came to cup his sharp face.
"I'm sorry I wasn't responding at all, I really had to leave to go to the airport after that silly fight we had, I couldn't just tell you I was coming." You said and placed a kiss on the tip of his nose. "Although I was really temped to."
Levi wrapped his arms around you again and hugged you to his chest- this time he missed on levitating you if the ground, even more fiercely than he had done before. He simply huffed in amusement in the crook of your neck, mouthing a sole 'thank you' against you.
The next kiss you shared was maniac and passionate in nature. His lips didn't just graze over yours, the engulfed them. He sucked onto your tender flesh as if his life depended on it and you couldn't get enough. You found yourself grabbing his shirt, then running your hands through the short spiky hair of his undercut.
His slick hands cupped your own face as he pulled back only to catch his breath for a moment.
"I've missed you much I can't even be patient to talk with you."
"Me too" you announced, a hazed look masking your face.
You took a few leading steps to the couch, careful not to disturb the candles in the corners of the coffee table that before it, much afraid of setting everything on fire in your despairate state to have him. Your mouth launched feverishly onto his as you threw him onto the gray sofa.
Levi didn't fight it, not even for a moment. His tongue shoved inside your mouth, rolling around yours, slurping and cherishing each corner of your mouth as he took small intakes of breath through his nose from time to time. His tender hands loosened their grip on the sides of your face, the action eliciting a small whine from your occupied mouth but to was quickly gulped down by the movement of his lips that came to suck on your tongue.
You felt his fingertips travel down your clothed body, skillfully sinking underneath your shirt before restlessly traveling back up taking the cloth away with them. You only broke away from each other for a singular moment, breaths hitching and tinting the air around you, so much that you could almost ignore the way your heart sped it's throbbing in your ears. His hips bucked longingly int you from underneath, the friction already driving you crazy.
As his hands shoved longingly inside your pants you let another moan slip from the depths of your throat, though it was guickly muffled by your lover's mouth attaching on yours , making you melt into him. You felt his fingers graze ever so slightly over your still clothed crotch, painfully flicking their way through your flesh.
Roughly, he pulled back, detaching his want body away from yours while fixing his gray eyes into you. He didn't bother speaking as he tagged at the sides of his shirt, ripping the article of clothing away from him in such quick movements, as if it was the only thing getting in his way from getting close to you.
With hanger widening his eyes he stared at you again, prompting you to put your hands into him, to feel him all the while he run his hands into your form. He failed in exploring your body as he had wished though, with a shagged breath he only managed to bring you close, in a proximity that didn't even allow a kiss to be exchanged. You simply nuzzled into the crook of his bare neck, rubbing the tip of your nose in calm circles against him as you breathed hot huffs of air onto his skin.
His back was still so muscular and ripped despite his skin being so overly smooth under your tender touch, the more small trails you rubbed over him the more he sighed in greed and over exaggerated longing. Licking his lips with a constipated look on his face, he placed a tender kiss on your collarbone before traveling back up, just to teasingly rub his bottom lip over yours.
Breaking the kiss you grabbed his hand, bringing his palm close you your face. You teasingly picked his pointer finger, making sure to scratch the inside of his hand with your nails as you brought the digit to your mouth. His mouth, running ahead of his own desire to stay quiet, blurted lewd moans at your soft suckling and with all blood boiling in his body he was unable to even think about chocking down on his sounds.
He was on his back before he even knew it. It seemed like squirming was the way to go now, right underneath you as you placed kisses all over his chest and torso. With slow hands you reached for his pants, fidgeting with his zipper and buttons before wiggling your arms inside the dark denim.
Quickly, any remaining article of clothing was discharged thrown anywhere on the floor; you could worry about that later but right now you couldn't seem to be able to pay attention on anything else than each other. You had missed him, he had missed you, there was only so much that the two of you could process momentarily.
It was the high of the moment mixed with your scent that pulled him even even more as you craddled him to your chest while never ceasing the bobbing of your hips. The kisses that he sucked in you, sped up the beating of your heart against his as soft skin mingled with your own. Even that was painful to him, the extend to which he had missed you didn't leave any space for him to pull just an inch away from you, as if he wouldn't ever be able to get enough.
"My Levi, I've missed you so much." You spoke with hitched breaths, lips grazing his earlobe ever so slightly.
Levi allowed him self to eventually grunt in response letting harsh huffs of air through his nostrils while trying to guide your hips to an alt.
"Keep talking like that and I'm not going to last." He spoke, his fingering digging into your thighs to put an halt to your movements.
It didn't work -he should have known it wouldn't work- because you only slid down on him longingly and fast, sending his mind in the familiar pre orgasmic haze he so wished to momentarily be freed from.
"Who said," you paused only for another tainted moan to slip outside your lips "I want you to last?" You placed a kiss on the skin behind his ear, careful not to suck and create any loud noise that close to his eardrum.
Levi only threw his head back, his hips starting to work onto a hard, quick rhythm against you. He trembled under your words and every deep thrust, every feel of your insides on his throbbing length was only contributing to the build up in his abdomen.
He hair, sweaty as it was, stuck on his forehead as it dripped, but you paid no mind in his salty taste as you kissed your way all over his forehead and cheeks, nose and jawline, trailing your tongue on any sharp edge of him.
Your legs were shaking now and much to your best wishes you struggled with your thrusting onto him. You only managed to gyrate your hips, earning another moan of him as you ceased your movements, sweat dripping off of your own forehead as if mimicking his antics.
His hands nearly slipped from your thighs as wet as they were but he managed to get the message you were trying to convey; with jaded breaths he started thrusting maniacally from underneath you, damaging through you as pleasure dueled in both your bodies.
Yearning splashed all over his face and his grunts only got louder. Your foreheads collided as you cupped his face, noses nuzzling up, eyes staring deep into eachother.
Gentle. His ultimate indulge into you was gentle and earth shattering at the same time. His veins popped in white hot pleasure and his chest boiled with numerous erotic moans as his abdomen screamed throughout him, leaving him with barely enough time to mechanically reach just to pull out. His head hung low onto your collarbone while his head throbbed, unable to come down from his high just yet. He couldn't even move his eyes to see you, although he knew by listening to your panted breaths that you were in the same position as him.
Pushing him back to lay down on the couch, you kissed all over his face for the thousandth time tonight.
"I'd never ever miss this important day, you know." You smiled, pressing your lips to the tip of his nose.
"It's not that special, brat" he spoke shyly as he cooed into your face rubbing his upper lip to your cheek. You recognised the action; it was a habit of his to coo in such way, any overly soft thing grazing his top lip indulged him in endless calmness and you hummed to yourself in amusement to the feeling.
"I missed you."
"I know. You said that." He huffed, his lips puckering to hide the playful demeanor behind his next words. "But I don't think I heard it right, mind repeating it?" His fingers trapped your nose between them and swayed your head from side to side before moving to your naked back to press you closer to him him once again.
"You're such a tease. I love you Levi."
"I love you too," He blurred with eyes that burned into yours and proceeded to place a sweet kiss onto your sweat drenched hair "so much, you brat."
Taglist go off: @ackermans-freedom-inc @hawkssnugget @berrijam @levisbrat25 @nobody-knows-anymore @callmepromise
397 notes · View notes
ellsbclls · 3 years
Text
The Fire Escape
warnings ➛ A couple of swear words here and there, mentions of death, endgame spoilers, and a dash of far from home erasure.
word count ➛ 4.7K
synopsis ➛ After the events of End Game, Peter Parker takes a break from his crime fighting persona, but when Spider-Man is called to a mission in Sokovia, he realizes that you might not be ready to handle the life of an Avenger’s girlfriend. There’s a little bit of angst, but not enough to keep you up at night.
“Y/N… Earth to Y/N.”
Peter ropes you back to reality with a light squeeze of your hand, a simple gesture that you return two-fold. On normal dates, the competition would ignite almost immediately, squeezing each other’s hands back and forth, under varying degrees of pressure, until one of you cried uncle — but this is far from a normal date.
It had started innocently enough. Peter had begged Dr.Banner to let him leave his “internship” an hour early just so he could surprise you at work. You assumed — after some superb groveling on Peter’s part — that Bruce agreed, because the end of your shift was met with a parchment wrapped dozen of blushing roses, accompanied by your equally blushing boyfriend. The two of you were able to snag one of the emptier carts on the N train, and were accompanied by a small Greek woman who sent a warm smile when you nestled your head into Peter’s shoulder. The smile disappeared as soon as he started using the poles as his personal jungle gym, but your laugh made up for its loss as he offered his hand out, begging you to join him with a Gene Kelly-esque flair. He ushered you into one of your favorite ramen places during your stroll down Ditmars, pulling out your chair when you were given a table, pretending not to notice how you snuck a noodle or two from his bowl when he wasn’t looking. Your heart felt so warm, you’re surprised it didn’t melt.
So why does everything seem so off now? You and Peter are walking side by side down 37th avenue, he’s rambling excitedly about some new enhancement he made to his web slingers, the evening breeze is kissing your cheeks as it waltzes around the autumn foliage, and somehow, you feel like you’re in the eye of a hurricane.
“Where’d you go?” Peter tries to reel you back in once more and succeeds, craning his head to meet your gaze.
“Oh, just a quick jog.” you tease. There’s a thin edge underlying your sarcasm, and you wonder if he can hear it, too. You’re only a block away from your apartment, and the tiny voice in the back of your mind rationalizes that nothing could ruin your impromptu date night if you were tucked away in your home — because you always feel safe when you’re home. Yet, with no solid evidence to confirm or deny the thought, you’re in a race with the block to dig through your purse.
“Oh, well don’t forget to warm up.” he teases back. His caramel hues, once alight with a mirthful glint, start to descend into an uneasy resolve that only confirms your suspicions, but you’re too occupied by the whereabouts of your keys to notice. “Speaking of warm up, actually, there’s something I have to ask you.”
“Shoot.” you reply offhandedly.
“Well, I- I don’t know how to say this.” The tremor in his voice is subtle, but just present enough to pull you from your search.   “There’s- uh- there’s something going on in Sokovia, or at least what’s left of it. There’s a lot of feedback coming off the maps, like a… a hotplate of cosmic activity, so Captain wants the entire team there.”
There it is — that dark cloud that hung over your head this evening finally drenches you in a sharp, cold blanket of realization. Your heart stops, aches, and then crumbles to the pit of your stomach, waiting to be washed away by the waves of terror that crash upon your airways, and despite the wash cycle of emotions you’ve just endured, you feel far from clean. In fact, everything feels heavy — from the weight of your heart to your ragged breath — paralyzed by the idea that each thump, each exhale, brings you closer to the moment where Peter has to leave.
You started dating a year and a half ago, and two years have passed since half of the population was restored to its rightful plane of existence. Iron Man’s death left a massive hole in Peter’s morale, as well as a nagging doubt that he would never be able to take on the mantle he was left with. So, for the first time since he was bitten by that radioactive spider, he cowered in the face of adversity. Not only had he lost a mentor, he had lost his friend — and when Tony Stark sacrificed his life, he was under the impression that the heroes he saved would continue to protect the world, but sometimes Peter wonders if that still reigns true. If Mr.Stark knew just how easily the team had crumbled, how easily he had crumbled, would he still leave? Three and a half years later and Peter still can’t find the answer.
Meanwhile, when it seemed like the world needed him most, Spiderman slipped into obscurity. Now he only makes an appearance when the newscast is a little too bleak to ignore, and even then, he usually sticks to the rogue bank heist or back alley mugging.
You try not to pry, knowing that each time you ask about his brief hiatus is like poking an open wound, and, albeit selfishly, you relish in the fact that your boyfriend isn’t throwing himself in harm's way. However, now seems like a better time than ever for an interrogation, seeing as this is not only the first Avengers mission he’s attended in your relationship, but the first mission to ever span past the Hudson.
No obstacle prior has conjured a looming sense of dread and anxiety as palpable as the one you’re toting now. You can already feel it bubbling in your chest, like a cauldron of endless toils, expelling a hazy fog that makes your head spin.
“Hey, hey, hey, don’t give out on me now.” You don’t realize that your knees buckled beneath you until Peter comes to your rescue, and you silently wish that all of his heroic excursions could be this simple. The warmth of his hand bleeds past your winter coat and business casual blouse as it settles against the small of your back, and your body betrays you as it melts into his touch. “Contrary to popular belief, I’m actually not CPR certified.”
“I- I’m sorry.” Your mouth is bone dry, and you can barely muster a laugh convincing enough to counter his attempt at humor, so you don’t. You opt on settling your gaze upon the entrance of your building, just over Peter’s shoulder, and trying to ground yourself enough to stand without his help.
Peter’s hand still lingers on your form when you shuffle away from him, moving from the small of your back to the curve of your elbow. He can tell that you’re shaken, he expected that much from the get go, so he doesn’t leave your side, encroaching on the space you so obviously seek.  
“I don’t know- I don’t…” You muster just enough courage to counter his gaze, and a tiny frown creases between your brows, confusion riddling every other feature. “What exactly are you asking me?”
He pauses, searching for the answer himself. “Well, I guess- I just wanna know how you’re feeling.”
You chalk it up to your sudden sense of irritability, but his question just pisses you off. How dare he throw out a semblance of hope, a faulty impression, that you’d have any choice in this matter. You climb the three steps up to the front door, dolled up in dismay, and still try to find purchase in the illusion that you have any control in the matter. Maybe that’s what pushes you over the deep end, your once honeyed voice now curdled by venom — the hopelessness of it all. “Oh, I’m fine! I’m amazing, Peter. After the way you buttered me up all evening, how could I possibly be upset?”
“Y/N, that’s not fair-” Peter’s visibly taken aback, his features mimicking your own. You can see the cogs turning in his head, formulating some way to diffuse this situation before it really begins, but now that the gates are opened, it’s too late for you to hold anything back.
“Why not? Cause it’s the truth?” You cut him off, freshly manicured nails digging into your palms in an attempt to keep your tone even. “Let me tell you what’s not fair — You don’t even know how long you’re gonna be gone, do you?”
You’re met with a mutual silence, which confirms just how equally unaware you both are.
“Exactly.” At this point, your nerves are getting the best of you. Whether you lay all of your feelings out to him tonight or not, a sickening thought will remain — Peter is going to leave, and there’s a chance he won’t come back. So you persist, your hues boring into his own with each word. “You don’t know what it’s like to sit in our bed and wonder if you’re gonna be in it the next morning. You don’t know how terrifying it is to watch the news and pray to god that you’re not a part of it. You’re never going to be in my shoes when it comes to all of this, and I pray to god that you never have to be because I never want you to feel this way. That’s what’s not fair.” You wish your voice hadn’t grown weaker with each blow, you wish you could utter your last few thoughts with an unwavering certainty, but you know you can’t — not when a sob threatens to bubble up from the back of your throat. “That you can just decide to swing across the globe and put your life in danger while I sit at home and worry about you, and the worst part is that it only makes me love you more.”
“Y/N, do you think this is easy for me?” he’s never raised his voice at you, especially not like this, but it looks like tonight is a series of firsts for the both of you. “I haven’t been on a mission with the Avengers since high school, since —” Since Mr.Stark died. You know.
It’s not like he didn’t try to say it, he did, but the name just felt so foreign on his tongue. After years of inactivity, the threat of unearthing all those memories, all those bright eyed, bushy tailed endeavors, was almost as bad as remembering that he was gone — or even worse, not remembering them at all. But where could he retreat to now? He’s stuck between a rock and a hard place, forced to choose between the thought of losing Mr.Stark, or the thought of losing you. His thoughts are raw and earnest as he tries to placate the latter. “I don’t want to leave you. It terrifies me to think of all the things that could happen to you while I’m gone —”
“Obviously it doesn’t scare you enough, because you’re still going!” You punch the last two words, as if you’re suddenly trying to talk to him from across the street.
“I don’t have a choice, Y/N! I don’t-”
Your argument skids to a screeching halt, rivaling the groan of the metal door that guards your apartment complex, and with it appears Ms.Nunez — the single mother that lives a floor below you, whose ability to juggle her graveyard shifts at the hospital with her two rambunctious toddlers is almost as impeccable as her timing.
She appears to be in a rush as she skirts past you, but not enough to stop her from sending Peter an all too knowing look — one that screams “what did you do to that poor girl?”, with only the view of your red, puffy eyes and guarded stance to back up her assumption.
And with an opportunity so golden laying at your feet, who are you to ignore it? You catch the door before it hits the frame and slip into the yellowed entryway, barreling up the stairwell before he can question her weighted stare. You leave Peter no choice but to slip past Ms.Nunez in your pursuit, without so much as a goodbye, but a few choice words still sit on the back of his tongue, waiting to be swallowed.
Normally, the five stories of stairs leaves you winded by the third, but you chalk your superhuman stamina up to adrenaline. Luckily for you, you’re able to reach the last flight of stairs as Peter climbs up the first. Unluckily for you, you seem to forget that your boyfriend actually does have superhuman stamina, and you swear to fucking god that he’s flying up the stairwell by the time you shut the door behind you.
The door slams twice more after that, one loud bang to signal Peter’s entrance and one to punctuate it. His voice pierces through the apartment, firm and unyielding. “This conversation isn’t over, Y/N.”
He has no idea where you’ve run off to, ruling out the kitchen once he drapes his jacket over the center island. All he can hear is your voice, muffled behind one of the walls, calling out to him with little emotion to spare. “Oh, yes it is. I’m over it. It’s over.”
“Well, that’s mature.” He mutters under his breath, not expecting you to hear him, let alone respond.
“Oh, I’m so glad you think so!” You chuckle dryly, ”‘Cause your judgment of maturity is oh so rational and not at all fucking batshit.” And he thought he had enhanced hearing.
“You know what? You’re right.” He scoffs, letting the slam of the bathroom door punctuate his final words. “I’m over this, too.”
🕷 🕷 🕷
“Y/N?” Peter calls out, but to no avail. It’s on nights like these where he wishes you weren’t fighting, knowing fully well that you would command him to the bed with a downward pointing finger and the best glare you could muster. You’ve always loved the way his hair curled into soft, chestnut waves, so you didn’t mind weaving through his damp tresses before he went to sleep. You would make up some excuse about how the process helped give his curls definition, and he would always end up way too tired and relaxed to call you out on it.
You’re nowhere to be found, though. Your comforter is still as haphazard as it was this morning, and the kitchen is void of your late night snack ravaging. The only sign of your presence is found in the open window next to you bed, and way the curtains float against the evening breeze, leaving him to ponder your whereabouts at a breakneck speed. 
A million visions of paranoia screen through his mind all at once, but he’s quick to dismiss them, oddly familiar with the prospect of losing someone, and all the fretting that comes with it.
And you know better than to wander the streets of the city so late at night — but with all of the venom being spewed throughout the apartment, Peter wouldn’t be surprised if you needed a small reprieve. Even for just a quick trip to the corner market. He’s well aware of the eagle eye you sport in the moonlit streets, as well as the switchblade that sits in the side pocket of your bag, but he knows better than anyone that you have to expect the unexpected in these streets.
He pulls out his phone, ready to shoot you a quick text when the bars of the fire escape let out a metallic groan. Despite your apartment’s... adequate amenities, you’d never had a problem with the fire escape. The finicky oven? Maybe, but never the fire escape.
Even without his spidey senses tingling, he has no choice but to poke his head through the window pane, and to his surprise, he ends up killing two birds with one stone.
“I didn’t know you were out here.” Peter balances on the window sill, crouching in a near feline stance as he surveys your position — bundled between the metal grates of the fire escape and your downy comforter. Your lips are parted in a tiny “o”, eyelids blanketing your hues, and with the street lights flickering to life across the seam of thirty-eighth avenue, you’re nothing short of angelic — features now outlined in a seraphic, dewy haze.
If he wasn’t feeling guilty beforehand, the sight before him guarantees he is now.
“Yeah, that was kind of the point.” you murmur. You don’t bother to open your eyes, not even when the iron beams start to squeak under Peter’s weight. “Can I help you with something? I’m pretty sure this thing has a weight limit, and this is a weighted blanket.”
You’re met with silence, and you hate to admit it, but you’d take his silent presence over your self-induced isolation any day. Despite the fact that you only moved in together four months prior, your body has grown accustomed to his presence, subconsciously weaving it into your daily routine. There were nights when you would splay out like a starfish in your childhood bedroom, waiting restlessly for the gentle wrap of his knuckles at the window pane, and that same restlessness bleeds into nights in your shared apartment,  which then bleeds into now. Sure, you can trick your body into sleeping, but rest seems to be boroughs and islands away when Peter’s not there to wish you a good night.
A terse silence settles between the two of you, and you blink up at Peter, expecting him to break it since you surely wouldn’t.
“Why here?” Peter exceeds your expectations with his query. His gaze is fixed on Manhattan’s skyline — even from the tippy top of the complex, he can still make out the jagged glittering, crust of the city’s bustling core — and it’s then he finds the answer to his very own question.
“I used to sneak onto the fire escape at my parents place, too.” you reminisce, the corners of your lips curling into a bittersweet grin. “The apartment walls were thin, and whenever they would fight, or talk shit about something I did that day, I would just sit on the fire escape until I fell asleep.”
“How?” He breaks yet another lengthy pause, and you fight the urge to chuckle at his candor, settling with a lazy grin. “I mean, no offense, but Astoria isn’t exactly a library.”
“Yeah, but inside, I knew exactly what they were saying, how they were feeling — it was all in the air. At least out here everything just… blends together. It’s kind of peaceful in a way.”
Your voice is so timid and gentle as you recall your childhood, reflecting on moments that seem lifetimes away despite the handful of years in between. Peter’s gaze is transfixed on your profile, skating down the slope of your nose and skirting the curves of your lips until he realizes just how small you are. He tends to hold you on a pedestal, a habit he’s retained since the very beginning of your relationship, so sometimes it still baffles him to know that you can be anything but perfect — that you too can be human, and make human mistakes.
“How come I’ve never seen you out here before?” He feels like a little kid, question after question slipping past his lips before he even has the chance to filter them.
“‘Cause I haven’t had a reason to hide since I moved in with you.”
And just when he thought he couldn’t feel even guiltier, he’s soon overflowing with it. It kills him to know that you felt the need to escape, and you’ll never admit it after tonight, but he was the one who pushed you toward it.
“I’m sorry.” Peter blurts out, not expecting you to say —
“I’m sorry.”
You furrow your brows, cutting him off before he can even open his mouth to protest. “I’m just so used to my Peter. Sometimes it’s hard to remember that I’m sharing him with the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.”
“Hey, hey — look at me.” His thumb traces the spot right under your eye, using his pinky to nudge the curve of your jaw upward, toward his gaze — heavy and drenched in a type of resoluteness that leaves your mouth bone dry. “It may not always seem like it, but trust me when I tell you that you’re always going to be my top priority.”
“Peter, you’re being dramatic.” You sigh, finding it hard to believe that your life could take any precedence over the safety of mankind itself.
“No, I’m being honest.” His voice, his gaze, they leave no room for protest. You feel a little awkward being the center of their attention, and so it’s a relief when they shift to the city’s skyline once more. “Look over there, you know what that is?”
“Central Park?”
“Mhm, good girl.” Crimson blooms across the valley of your cheeks at his choice of nickname, no matter how innocently he uttered it, but your attention still remains undivided. “I figured out that I can get home quicker if I cut through it.”
You quirk a brow, and he doesn’t need to ask to know exactly what you’re thinking — So what if he hasn’t figured out which trains he needs to board in order to make a dent in his homebound commute? It’s the thought that counts.
“Sometimes like to just stop for a second and watch some of the people in the park, but not in, like, a creepy way? You know what I mean?” A subtle hint of embarrassment tinges his features, but dissolves once he notices your understanding nod.  “Is there a word for that?”
“Yeah, it’s called people watching.” You snickered, trying to imagine your boyfriend and his attempts at roasting the New York natives. “MJ and I do it all the time.”
“No, but with less… shit talking.” He counters.
Ouch.
“Oh…” You’re stumped, unsure of where he’s heading and, quite frankly, a little humbled by his read. “Hmm… Carry on?”
“Well,” Peter lets his hand rest palm forward on his knee, fingers gently curled, and you’re well acquainted with the gesture. Almost instinctively, you hover your hand above his own, digits clumsily dancing with one another as he speaks, and for a fleeting second, everything is back to normal. “It’s just… mind-blowing sometimes. There’s so much life there, all at once. All of these people are just living their lives, making their way home, falling in love, falling out of love, buying overpriced hotdogs from the street vendors — The other day I saw this mom fishing her two toddlers out of that fountain on Terrace road and honestly, if they don’t end up with superpowers, I’ll be shocked.” He can tell he’s drifted wildly off track by the way you nod, slowly and unsure, as to not offend him and his train of thought. “The point is… I used to protect all of that, and it used to make me so happy.”
“You still do,” You murmur, not one to discredit the risks he does take in the name of New York. Just because his enemies aren’t held to the same caliber as, say, Thanos, doesn’t mean they aren’t worthwhile. “All that matters is that you’re doing what you can.”
You hesitantly intertwine your fingers with his, in just a delicate enough hold to let him reject it if he so chooses. Your lips softly quirk upward when he only tightens the grip.
“Thank you.” He offers a comforting smile, one that barely reaches his eyes, and you can tell that he has more to say. So, you squeeze his hand, silently urging him to continue. “Well, I just- after Mr.Stark… passed away… it was really hard to remember why I started doing all of it in the first place. Like- I hate saying this, but why do we keep protecting all of these strangers when all the people we do know just keep getting hurt?” He winces at his own words, so far removed from such bitterness that he can barely believe he once thought such selfish things. “But then- then I get to see all of the people that I’ve been protecting, and suddenly it all makes sense again. All I want to do is make sure people are safe, and happy, and hopefully… Hopefully, when we’re older, and we have kids that jump in the fountains at Central Park, someone like me will be watching… and they’ll feel the exact same way.”
When we’re older, When we have kids... Those promises of marriage, of a loving family, of a future — they bounce off your eardrums like a mantra. Soon, you can’t even imagine thinking about anything but Peter’s words, and how much you love him right now, and how you’ll love him until your heart can’t possibly take it anymore. You can read what he’s trying to portray loud and clear — He loves you, he can see a future with you, and if there’s ever a doubt in your mind that his feelings may have changed, you can look out into the world and find pieces of his heart in every passing face.
“I haven’t been doing everything I can to make sure that’s possible, though.” He breaches your lovesick trance, reminding you that there’s still a thread of discord dangling between you. One that you can see rapidly disappearing with each passing second. “I have to go on this mission, Y/N. I wanna start helping people again. I wanna do right by him.”
“I know.” You whisper, conceding to the fact that you will always want what’s best for him, even if you aren’t a fan of the circumstances. “It doesn’t make it any less sucky.”
“C’mere.” He can barely pat his thighs before you’re crawling toward him. He passes a warm hand under your thigh once you straddle his waist, scooping you further into his lap, and uses his free hand to encompass the nape of your neck. You feel like you could melt, being cradled between his strong, toned  arms, and the feeling only intensifies when his lips seek out yours. His lips are soft, and warm, and taste like listerine, and you couldn’t ask for anything more perfectly suited for you.    
“I love you.” He murmurs against your lips, without a trace of uncertainty. His thumb wipes the corner of your mouth, and he continues to plant a series of sweet, soft butterfly kisses over every patch of skin he can get his lips on — your cheeks, your nose, your temple.
He’s so wrapped up in his gentle ministrations that he barely hears you return the sentiment, eyes fluttering to a close as you breathe out, “I love you.”
“Please come inside,'' he whispers against your forehead, punctuating his plea with a chaste kiss.
You pretend to entertain the thought, tapping your index finger against your chin, before shaking your head with a waggish simper. Fortunately for you, it doesn’t take long for him to take the bait, and he disappears through the window. You can just barely make out the harmony of wild rustling and hushed obscenities coming from your room before Peter is returning to your makeshift bed, clad in the cheesy “The Floor is Lava!” hoodie you snagged from a street vendor during your trip to Pompeii the summer beforehand.
“I’m not gonna lie to you, Y/N,” Peter’s voice is tight, shuffling his knees across the fretted ground as he crawls into your lap. It takes him all of three seconds to make himself comfortable, collapsing between your thighs, and you seize the opportunity to weave your fingers through his soft, chestnut locks. “I don’t think I can make this a recurring thing. I can already feel the scoliosis forming.”
“You’re such a drama queen,” you scoff, only to be met with a scandalized set of caramel hues. “I think you can make it through the night without any permanent damage to your spine.” With droopy eyes, your body starts to hum with the tell-tale signs of sleep, and your voice drips with drowsiness as you murmur, “And I wanna savor as many nights with you as I can.”
“I know,” he whispers back, the aftertaste of guilt intermingling with the abashment that follows your sleepy confession. ”I know. I’m right here, babe.”
And he swore, in that very moment, that nothing would change that.
114 notes · View notes
thescreamingraven · 3 years
Text
A promise
Dabi x reader
Genre/warnings: Fluff and angst, domestic, slight mentions of injury.
Words:  2 203
Summary:  A promise is something to be kept then why do you insist on breaking it?
Tumblr media
“Mom! Daddy’s home” Your daughter screamed at the top of her lungs as she charged to the door. When it opened, Dabi couldn’t even get one foot in your house before she clung to him.
“I’m home.” Dabi smiled softly, picking up his little girl.
You appeared from the kitchen and approached the two of them. “Welcome home.” You cooed gently, reaching up and running your fingers through Dabi’s hair.
It’s been like that for a few years, peaceful and quiet.. It was a bit difficult at first, when you told Dabi you were pregnant and were planning to keep it; he started to avoid you, ignoring your calls and messages, but after some soul searching he came around. You both knew deep down that it was the right thing to do, even if it was going to be difficult.
After that, you both quickly bought a small house together in a safe area outside the city. You took a break from heroism and Dabi stopped going on missions for a while. The nine months were tough with your hormones taking a toll and Dabi being not the most patient person ever, it had an impact on your relationship. Also, the fear of bringing a new life into this corrupted world wasn’t the best either, but here you were… countless sleepless nights later.
Your little girl was almost eight now, which was exciting on its own. She was the perfect picture of her dad. You sometimes wondered if she got any genes from you or was it all her Dabi. Who knew that a hero and villain could create someone so pure, so sweet, so innocent and so loud…
You leaned against your kitchen counter and looked at the two most important people in your life. Your daughter was sitting in Dabi’s lap babbling about her day and showing the pictures you helped her draw. You instinctively touched your stomach. “We need to tell him” You whispered to yourself, rubbing small circles on your stomach.
You decided to try a new recipe you saw online, which proved to be quite a challenge. It was something you never cooked before and the steps were confusing. You massaged your temples and jumped a bit when you felt someone’s arms around you.
“Here, let me help, you must be tired…” Dabi Purred as he took the knife you’ve had in your hands and placed it on the counter after that he gently kissed your cheek
“Well, hello to you too.” You giggled, relaxing into his warmth.
“Your shoulders feel a bit stern.” He said placing a kiss on your shoulder and reaching to get another cutboard from the upper cabinet.
“I’m fine. I didn’t even do that much today.” You mumbled picking up the knife once again.
“Still….” He looked at his daughter who was scribbling something on a piece of paper, from this angle she looked like an angel, deep down he still couldn’t believe that it was his daughter, even if she did look a lot like him. “She can be a little… active sometimes.”
He looked at your phone. “New recipe, huh?”
“Yea thought I’d try cooking something new.”
“How do I… cut this?” You murmured to yourself, holding the knife horizontally.
“If you do that you’ll cut yourself, Hold on, give me your hands,” Dabi said as he once again stood behind you, intertwining his hands with yours and assisting you in cutting.
“Getting handsy, huh?” You teased.
“Don’t get any ideas miss, I’m taken,” He looked at you and nuzzled slightly into your neck “And happily so.”
You giggled, planting a small kiss on his cheek.
“Have you ever cooked this before?” You asked soothingly.
“I cooked something similar, I think… When I was little, I need to help out a lot because of my siblings, so I learned how to cook.” He explained. “I think my mom used to cook something similar.”
“Huh, maybe you should drop this whole villainy thing and become a chef.” You chuckled, turning around to face him.
“Oh yeah, I’ll conquer the world with my amazing cooking skills…” He remarked, pulling you closer.
You wrapped your arms around his neck and scratched his scalp gently. You both looked at your daughter, who was now distracted by the TV.
“You know she’s really excited about her birthday tomorrow.” You chirped.
“Did she ask for that dog again?” He smirked.
Tell him
“You okay?”
Now or never, just spit it out
“She asked for a puppy again.” You mumbled turning your back on him, once again focusing on your dish, Dabi cocked his eyebrow and sighed.
“No, seriously, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” You smiled faintly. “I’m just glad your back is all.”
You glanced at him and saw that he wasn’t going to let this go, so before he could continue pressing the matter, you mumbled. “I think it’s finished… think you can get her?”
He gave you a suspicious look but nodded nonetheless. He walked towards your daughter while you began to set the table.
He sat down near her, patting her head. “Dinners ready.” He cooed softly.
Before she could get up, he gently pulled her into a hug and whispered. “Mommy seems a bit off today, do you know why?”
“No, but,” She hesitated and looked at her father, he gave her a slight nod and she continued “Mommy cried today… I asked her why but she didn’t tell me…”
“I see,” he mumbled. “Well, get your butt to the kitchen.”
“But my drawing…”
“You can finish it later…” He chirped slightly patting her back.
She gave him her drawing “Do you like it?”
“Of course I do now, cmon” He picked her up while her loud giggles filled the room “time to eat.
The dinner went by quietly while your daughter’s favorite cartoons played in the background you and Dabi barely kept any conversation going. The guilt of keeping it from him grew bigger and bigger by the minute.
Dabi could see that you were nervous about something, but decided not to start that kind of discussion in front of your kid. The last thing she needs is to worry about her parents fighting, he thought.
When the dinner ended, you suggested washing the dishes while Dabi put your daughter to sleep. It didn’t take you that long to finish and the stars outside looked so gorgeous tonight, so you decided to go get some fresh air and do some soul searching, so you put on Dabi’s jacket and your shoes and stepped outside. The night was warm with no trail of wind anywhere; the crickets were loudly chirping. You looked up at the sky and got lost in it; it was difficult not to, There were so many stars, different sizes, ones brighter than the others. You were so overwhelmed by the night’s sky that you didn’t even notice Dabi coming up to you and leaning down on the porch next to you.
“Have room for one more?”
You jumped slightly.
“Sorry didn’t see you there…” You gasped.
“But Yes, I think there’s one more free spot right here.” You teased, tapping the railing, signaling him to get closer, and he did. He wrapped one of his hands around you and pulled you in.
“She’s something else huh..?” He quietly mumbled, “Hell, I still can’t believe that’s she’s ours… we made her…”
With a sigh, he gently turned your face so you would meet his gaze.
“Tell me what’s wrong”
Before you could say anything he quickly interrupted, “Don’t say nothing, I know you well enough to know when something is bothering you.”
You let your head fall, scared to meet his gaze.
“Were you going to tell me?” You asked with simple directness. “About the mission.”
“Oh…” He sighed. “You heard that…”
You gave him a sad smile “Yeah,” You finally lifted your head facing his piercing blue eyes.
“You never keep things for me….” You murmured. “So wh-?”
”Your doctor left you a voicemail.” he said with a casual tone. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
He saw your expression change like lighting, and the look of guilt replaced any frustration you might have had.
He’s going to leave you.
You should’ve told him before it was too late.
“I…” You signed, “I was going to tell you…”
“When?”
You hesitated. “Soon…?”
“Bullshit,” He snapped. “two months Y/n, that’s a long time. And you know what’s worse, I had to find out from your doctor… and on accident too.”
“I’m sorry.” You Sniffled. “I just…” Suddenly it became all too overwhelming, and you began to sob. “I thought… I thought maybe, you didn’t want it… and maybe you’d leave… like l-last time”
He saw you break down before his eyes. “Y/n…” He pulled you into his warm embrace, slowly messaging your back.
“Look at me.” He cupped your cheeks and made you face him. “I want this… alright?”
“R- really?”
“Yes, of course, I do…” He cooed softly, wiping away your tears with his thumb. “you’re not getting rid of me that easily. And besides, I’m happy that our little angel will get a sibling, maybe she’ll calm down a bit.” He smiled.
“I just wish you’ve told me…” He pressed a gentle kiss on your forehead. “Let’s go inside, we wouldn’t want you to get sick now would we.”
You lay entangled in Dabi’s arms, feeling his slow and calm heartbeat, while he draws small circles on your back.
“So is it dangerous?” You finally broke the silence.
“No, just some basic stuff. Don’t worry, it won’t take that long… I’ll be home before morning. It will be like I never left.”
You lifted your head from Dabi’s chest.
“You know she’ll be crushed if you don’t come.” You murmured, nuzzling away a stray of hair from his face.
“I will, I promise, I’ll come back to you… and when I do…” we can both go pick up that mutt she keeps babbling on about.”
You repeated confusingly. “Mutt?” You giggled. “You got her a dog.”
“Quiet,” He shushed.
“You’re such a softie Toya… where did my big evil villain go?” You teased.
“Shut up you snot,” He pressed your head back on his chest “it’s your fault you know you did this,” he retorted.
Before sleep could overtake, you whispered something to him.
“I love you… please come back to me…”
“I love you too Y/n, and I will that’s a promise”
After that, you slowly drifted away to a deep slumber.
Half of the city laid in ashes, the street where Dabi was thrown during his little encounter only had one street light left. He slowly began to crawl to a nearby boulder thrown by none other than Endeavor himself. It was supposed to be a simple low-key mission; they needed to retrieve some supplies from one of their warehouses. How did something so insignificant attract the hero’s attention?
“I know you’re there, old man, you can come out. Noth-” He winced in pain, trying to at least slow down the bleeding. “I can’t really do anything now.”
He could see two figures approaching him, yet even in the dead of night, he knew who they were.
“You know I never thought that Shoto would-” he coughed.
“But you did it, you actually did it.” He chuckled.
Both figures quickly appeared before him, kneeling down next to him, talking about something Dabi could barely understand. He looked at Shoto, who was seemed to be panicking. “We need to get him help.” Endeavor stated while wrapping something around Dabi’s torso.
“I knew this day would come… eventually, I just didn’t expect you to-” Dabi began to cough drastically.
“Stop talking, son, and save your strength.” Endeavor advised.
“He’s bleeding out fast.” Shoto shuddered while trying to keep constant pressure on the wound. “Keep your eyes open, Toya. “Shoto pleaded.
“You’re such a softie Toya… where did my big evil villain go?”
Dabi tried to push himself up, mumbling something under his breath, but Shoto stopped him. “I can’t die here… I promised her… I-” Dabi started to tremble.
“I think he’s confused.” Shoto blurted.
“I love you… please come back to me…”
“Just hold on alright? We’ll get you some help.” Endeavor comforted.
Dabi could feel himself getting colder, he could feel himself slipping away. So he made a decision. He pulled Endeavor closer by his collar.
“Listen, you old bastard.” he coughed. “124th. Cherry street.”
Endeavor stared at him, confused and dumbfounded, not knowing what to do.
“Repeat it to me.” Dabi barked.
“124th. Cherry street.”
“Good. If I don’t make it Keep them safe for me…” Dabi winced in pain. “And tell…. tell, ” Dabi mumbled something under his breath, before slowly passing out.
The sound of the sirens was blocked by Shotos screaming and Endeavor murmuring something like a chant or prayer. Yet the only thing that Dabi could hear was the voices that sounded almost angelic. They pulled him deeper into the darkness like sirens luring him into a song he could never leave.
“I love you… please come back to me…”
“I love you too Y/n, and I will, that’s a promise”
163 notes · View notes
redhoodieone · 3 years
Text
Welcome Home
A/N: Hi everyone! This is an old fic that I’m re-posting for those who want to read it. Enjoy!
WARNINGS: Language and Smut.
  I knew my family was different the moment I found out my adoptive father was Batman. I was just a ten-year-old girl when I snuck down the stairs at midnight for a drink of water and spotted Batman leaving a trail of blood from his study and calling out for Alfred for help. The moment our eyes locked, Bruce instantly knew that I was clearly aware of his secret. He had also confessed it was him who saved me from a shootout that my parents were involved in and that it was him, as Batman. I felt I owed Bruce my own life for saving me, and I vowed to keep my father’s secret and pray that he would return home safely every night back to me.
It didn’t help that I soon discovered my adoptive older brother Dick Grayson was Robin. Not only did I have to keep his secret as well, but it made it more impossible to not have a crush on him. I mean, Dick has such a charming personality, beautiful baby blue eyes, and a devilish smile that can make any girl crawl on her hands and knees. And that ass…
I later found myself becoming the second Robin once Dick left to assume his own identity, Nightwing. Bruce trusted me, and he saw potential in me the second I told him I couldn’t see myself being a hero forever. Perhaps he never really wanted me to be his sidekick and figured if I got it out of my system that I could resume my life as a sixteen-year-old and do normal teenager activities. As if my life was normal anyways.
But things changed as soon as I was finally embracing myself as a hero. Bruce had taken in a new kid, Jason Todd. He was a troublemaker, a rebel, and a mysterious kid, who had never even spoken to me unless he had to. I don’t think my age helped the situation either; I was a couple of years older than him and he may not have seen me as an equal. But of course, the dark haired, icy blue eyed, bad attitude boy was given the Robin title, and I was removed because of a patrol-gone-wrong situation.
Stupid Harley Quinn and her baseball bat. Who knew one hit to my knee could bench me for two months (Alfred added an additional five months of rest).
Then the unthinkable happened. The second Robin was killed by the Joker. Jason Todd’s death put Bruce into a depression, and he swore he would never put another kid’s life in danger. Our father and daughter relationship broke apart before my very eyes. I spent my remaining teenage years in the mansion isolated, except for Alfred’s loving company.
I had graduated high school on time and I quickly decided to go to Gotham University to escape the Bat family. Before I moved out, I discovered Bruce had taken in another kid, Tim Drake, who was currently the new Robin. Was I hurt? Of course, I felt I was somehow replaced. Would I miss the Bat family? Maybe. Maybe not.
I did in fact wish the new younger Robin good luck. When Tim looked up at me, his light blue eyes were so innocent and frightened about me leaving him behind. I didn’t know why he would be so upset about me leaving; wouldn’t he want all of Bruce’s attention without me hanging around the mansion?
Now I’m twenty-one-years-old, and I’m still a student at Gotham University. Alfred had just called and informed me Bruce wants me back home.
As I sit in a taxi while anxiously waiting to pull up to Wayne Manor, I honestly don’t know why Bruce wants me back at home. Alfred has kept me up to date about the Bat family incidents and activities I have missed out those few years such as:
Dick Grayson becoming a womanizer (I saw it coming) and how he’s juggling working as a police officer and Nightwing. He’s still the favorite and golden child in Bruce’s eyes.
Jason Todd is back from the dead, and he’s currently operating his own team: Red Hood and the Outlaws (who knew he was leadership material underneath that thick skull of his?).
Tim Drake is Red Robin (does the fast food chain restaurant know about his superhero name?), and he’s currently assisting the Teen Titans when necessary while simultaneously aiding Bruce with detective work.
Damian Wayne is Bruce Wayne’s unknown biological child. I think he’s about fifteen-years-old now; from what I remember the last time I spoke to Alfred. I met Damian once, when Bruce asked me to meet him once Talia al Ghul practically dropped him off at Bruce’s doorstep. The boy was a little shit: bratty, stuck up, and insensitive. Even though he is the spitting image of Bruce, minus the different colored eyes (Bruce has blue and Damian’s are green), Damian claims he is set to take over the cowl when Bruce is either dead or done. God help us all…
But I still can’t figure out why I am needed back home. Is Alfred sick? Is Bruce dying after fighting all these years? Is it one of my brothers?
I jump in surprise once the taxi comes to a hard stop. After paying the man, I grab my duffel bag and I climb the front steps that I suddenly remember jumping off them as a kid. Alfred scolded me many times, and I still did it because being bad was fun.
I scoff loudly, and I jump down the five steps that would have given Alfred a heart attack. Maybe I haven’t changed as much as I thought.
I find the wooden front door unlocked, which is odd considering Alfred always makes sure to lock it. As a matter of fact, Alfred hasn’t greeted me like he always does when I come home. Where is Alfred?
After I unwrap my scarf, I pull my hoodie over my head to be more comfortable in the warm house. Sadly, I forgot to do laundry yesterday, so I came home in just my black yoga pants and red tank top. What would Alfred say?
I kick off my shoes and walk to the kitchen barefoot. Pulling my long hair into a ponytail, I notice a note on the counter that’s written for me. I unfold the note and stare at the nicest, well done cursive handwriting only one man can do here.
 Dear Lady Y/N,
I sincerely apologize for not being there to greet you properly. Master Bruce had wanted me to take my holiday to London early, and Lord knows I can use a week to myself after stitching up countless wounds, tidying up bedrooms and Bat caves, and playing messenger between you and your father. I have a cooked roast with garlic mash potatoes in the refrigerator if you are hungry. Do heat it up and perhaps show your father and brothers how to use the microwave.
I dearly love you and the boys,
 Love Alfred Pennyworth
P.S.
Look into the highest cabinet above the refrigerator, and you will discover a jar of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies just for you.
 I grin widely, and before I can turn around and find the cookies, I’m stuck between the counter and a tall, hard body behind me. I freeze.
“Welcome home, Y/N. I missed you so much,” Bruce whispers in my ear. I can feel his hot breath above my shoulder and neck. The familiar smell of his expensive cologne fills my nostrils. His large hands rub my legs and grip onto my hips very hard. “Did you miss me?”
“H-hi dad. W-what are you doing?” I ask softly, but I know it came out like a whisper. One of his hands is holding my waist, while the other caresses my abdomen. It feels strange considering Bruce is supposed to be my father, and we shouldn’t be this close or even touching each other. But a part of me wants to keep feeling his hands on me and see what he does next.
“Holding you. Smelling you. Touching you,” he answers, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. He breathes harder when I press my backside against his front by accident. “It appears you want this too. Am I correct, Y/N?”
His hand pulls down my yoga pants enough, so he can reach into my underwear. Bruce continues to breathe hard from his nose when his fingers find my core. His thumb rubs fast circles on my clit, while he pushes two fingers inside me. I bite my bottom lip to stop a loud moan from coming out of me, but he appears he’ll have none of that. He stops fingering me.
“You better be loud, or I won’t let you cum, Y/N.”
Before I can beg him to keep going, he turns my face, so I can look him in those cold, pale blue eyes. “Please tell me you’re…not a virgin.” Bruce’s face is twisted in pleasure from just fingering me, but I can tell his lips are trembling and there’s a soft but pleading look in his eyes. This must hurt him as much as it’s hurting me.
“I-I’m not,” I confess, and wonder if he would change his mind if I said I was.
“Who was it with?” Bruce demands. He kisses along my shoulder to my neck before he bites on my soft spot. I hiss in pain and I grind into him again.
“Josh Mitchell. I was sixteen,” I answer harshly.
“Was he any good?”
Before I can answer, Bruce shoves the front of my body onto the counter, while he pulls down my yoga pants. My adrenaline is rushing, and I can feel myself wetting the counter from just his roughness. I can feel him unzip his pants and I can already imagine this thick, hard cock fucking me into oblivion.
“No, no he wasn’t good at all!” I cry out.
“Good, I’m actually relieved to hear that,” Bruce says, as he starts to stroke himself. “Do you want me to fuck you, Y/N?”
I want to turn around and watch him jack off. Hearing him pleasure himself isn’t enough. Bruce then jams two fingers back into my pussy and I whimper loudly. It has been too long since I’ve been intimate with a man. I need his cock now!
“I asked you a question, Y/N. Do I need to remind you who you are supposed to answer to?” he says seriously before adding a third finger inside me. I grip the counter and I breathe harder. I find myself rubbing my pussy on the edge of the smooth countertop for more friction, but he grabs my hips and stops me. “Now, do you want me to fuck you, Y/N, or should I leave you here, so you can dry hump the countertop alone?”
I growl louder, while my nails scratch the counter top. “YES! Yes, I want you to fuck me, Dad!”
As soon as those words left my mouth, I immediately wonder if I killed the mood. Why would I call him ‘dad’ when we’re about to have hot, rough sex in the kitchen? I need to apologize. I push myself up on my elbows and I shift my head to the side to apologize. I open my mouth to speak but stop when Bruce’s eyes darkened, and he growls as he slams his thick cock inside me.
I moan louder than I have in my entire life. His cock fills me up so much that I fear I won’t be able to walk straight for the next week or two. Bruce lifts my legs up and continues to shove me against the counter with every hard thrust. He wasn’t kidding when he said he was going to fuck me. The man is practically drilling into me with no kindness at all.
“Oh fuck! You’re so fucking tight. So wet and so hot,” Bruce groans out. With each thrust, I can feel he wants to let go and fuck me like he owns me.
“Go ahead, Dad. Fuck me. Fuck me like I’m yours and only yours,” I tempt him playfully.
Bruce growls and rams his cock faster into me. He keeps knocking the air out from my lungs, and I can feel my body pulsating against his. I grip the countertop harder each time, and I know my knuckles are turning white and becoming numb every second. With one hand on my hips, Bruce moves his other hand up my tank top to hold my tits.
“No bra? You’re a bad girl,” Bruce says in between panting.
“I forgot to do laundry,” I choke out.
“Excuses,” he manages to say, as he holds me up more, so he can penetrate me deeper. His cock is hitting a deeper spot in me. It must be my g-spot, because I have read about it but never actually felt it to know. I can feel myself clenching his dick tightly, and I know I’m getting closer to release. “You wanted me and your brothers to see your tits, huh?”
“Maybe,” I cry out louder than what I intended to. Fuck, what if one of my brothers hears me? They’ll really think I’m insane for fucking our father and for loving it every second. Bruce readjusts our position once more, so he can hit that spot continuously. “I-I think I’m going to cum!”
“Not yet, you better not!” Bruce growls, and drills into me harder and faster. With his powerful thrusts and the constant friction from the countertop on my clit, I know for a fact that I can’t last longer. His hands hold onto my hips while he fucks me harder than before.
I become a moaning mess. I can feel my mouth drop open because I feel liquid coming out from my core. Did I just squirt? What the hell is happening to me?
The sounds of skin on skin is louder because of my mess. I drop my head onto the counter while Bruce continues to fuck me. Before I can catch my breath, Bruce chuckles and lifts me up. “I just made you squirt. That has never happened before, has it?”
“No, that was my first time,” I answer breathlessly. He kisses my neck.
“You’re so wet,” Bruce grunts into my ear. Breathing heavily, he lifts my hips again, so he can rub my clit with his fingers. “You’re making a mess all over my cock. You’re such a bad girl.”
“I’m your bad girl,” I moan out, as I can feel another orgasm threatening to take over my body.
“Fuck yes, you are!” Bruce groans, and continues to shove his cock into my soaking wet pussy.
With every rough thrust, I know Bruce won’t last. I whimper once more when my pussy clenches his dick as he fucks me through my orgasm. A few more hard thrusts, Bruce pulls out and turns me over onto my back. He jacks himself off as I watch his cum spurt out all over my stomach.
Just seeing his hard, veiny thick cock before me turns me on once more. I lick my lips at how the tip of his dick glistens with his cum.
Bruce sighs heavily, and just when I think I should try to get up and clean myself, he pulls me up and kisses me. He shoves his tongue into my mouth, and we explore each other’s mouths as if this was our last chance to. He pulls away from me and rests his forehead against mine.
“You’re mine, Y/N. You belong to me, and the Batfamily. I don’t care who wants you, because you will never give them what you have given me. Do you understand?” Bruce asks, before giving me his famous bat glare.
“I understand, and I promise,” I swear before he kisses me once more.
“Good, now go wash up,” Bruce instructs before he helps me off the counter.
I grab a paper towel and wipe Bruce’s cum off my stomach before I pull up my yoga pants. As soon as I toss the damped paper towel into the trash, I immediately notice Dick Grayson is standing there at the entrance of the kitchen staring at me with fire in his eyes.
291 notes · View notes
broadstbroskis · 3 years
Text
thanksgiving | jeff skinner
a/n: it’s here!!! this is like 4k that i threw together in like a week after i took it as a personal challenge from @blueskrugs after i asked why we don’t write more thanksgiving fics. a huge shoutout to her and @danglesnipecelly, for inspiration and cheering me on for this, as well as literally anyone else who’s cheered me on to finish thing, you’re all the real mvps and i love you all 💚
-----
Jeff shrugs, and from across the table filled with pizza, beer, and a bunch of other things that are most definitely not on his approved list of foods, you stare at him.
“I dunno. I don’t really have plans, I guess? Probably just sit at home, relax a little?” He says. Your jaw drops. He has...he has what now? “You're going to your parent’s right?” You nod slowly, still stuck on the fact that he’s going to sit at home and do nothing on Thanksgiving, the best of all holidays. Not spend the day with some teammates, not make a quick trip to his family, nothing. “That’ll be fun!” Jeff grins, dimples popping. “What are you-”
“You’re doing nothing?” You get out finally, the words coming back to you.
Jeff’s smile falters, but only slightly, and he nods. “Yeah? I mean, there’s no practice, no games. I’ll just…” He trails off for a second and then shrugs. “Rest.”
“You’re not going to go, like, visit your parents? They’re right across the border!”
“It’s a Thursday.” Jeff says patiently and you abruptly remember that his Canadian-ness is the whole point of this conversation.
“Thanksgiving is the best holiday! You can’t sit at home alone on it; I forbid it!” Jeff’s smile grows again as he laughs and you try and fight your own grin as you shove at his shoulders, to no avail. “Come home with me!”
“What?” He laughs again, but this time, it’s more like disbelief.
But the idea is already growing in your mind. “Come home with me! You know my parents love you, they won’t mind at all!”
“I can’t just invite myself to your Thanksgiving!” Jeff protests.
You wave him off. “You’re not, I’m inviting you! Come on, we’d love to have you!” He still looks hesitant, so you add, “Our Thanksgiving is huge anyway; one extra mouth to feed isn’t going to put anyone out, Jeff.”
“Alright.” He caves, and you grin, pulling your phone close to you to text your mom and let her know. “But ask your mom, okay? Like, really ask her, don’t just, like, tell her I’m coming.”
“Too late!” You say cheerfully, showing him the text you’d sent in your family group chat, telling them you were bringing Jeff with you next week. Your mom’s already responded with a string of happy face emojis and your younger sister with a How I Met Your Mother gif about Canadian Thanksgiving. “Be prepared for a lot of Canada jokes!”
“Is that supposed to be different than any other time I see your family?’ Jeff deadpans, but you’re pretty sure he looks like, at least 50% more relaxed, so you count this as a win and ignore him completely, already mentally planning for the best holiday of the year.
-----
The drive back home to your parents takes about an hour longer than you’d like, stuck in the same godawful traffic as everyone else trying to leave Buffalo on Wednesday so that they can get back home in time to go out that night. 
When Jeff finally pulls his car up in front of your childhood home, you can already see that it’s bustling with activity, getting ready for tomorrow. Most of your siblings have already arrived- only your older brother, with his wife and daughters will come in tomorrow, with the rest of your family- but your younger brother and sister have already come home, a fact that’s even more evident when you and Jeff walk in the front door and immediately trip over three pairs of sneakers.
“Liam!” You cry, grabbing onto Jeff so you don’t fall. “Motherfucker, move your shoes!”
Your brother pops his head out of the living room, AirPods in his ears. “I’m on a call!” And just as you're marveling at the fact that your brother is a real person with a real job taking real work calls, said real person with a real job spots Jeff and lights up. “Jeff! Bro! What’s up, man?”
“I thought you were on a call.” You snap at him.
“I’m on mute.” Liam slaps his palm against Jeff’s pulling him in for a ridiculous handshake-bro hug combo, before he finally comes over and lifts you off the floor. “Yo!”
“Yo!” You repeat, honestly unable to believe you’re related to this kid. If the two of you didn’t look exactly alike, you’d probably think he was adopted. “You still coming out tonight?”
“Hell yeah, this is my last call. I’m ready to go.”
You snicker, looking down at his sweatpants and dress shirt combo- he must have taken a video call at some point today. “Yeah, okay, bud.”
He ruffles your hair, in that annoying way he’s been able to do ever since he grew taller than you. “Don’t you worry, I will be.”
You laugh, ducking under his arm, to let him get back to it. You’ve got no doubts about that. Liam’s always ready to party. “Finish your call so we can start pregaming.”
He grins, like you knew he would. “Now we’re talking.” And then he ducks back into your dad’s office.
Jeff is laughing when you look back at him and you give him a look. “What?”
“Nothing, just forgot how the two of you were when you got going.”
“Yup, and you’re stuck with us for next two days!” You grin.
Jeff rolls his eyes at you, but he’s still smiling when he follows you to the kitchen, in search of your mom. She’s at the counter, rolling dough for biscuits, her only other contribution to the annual Thanksgiving dinner that she hosts, besides the turkey; a holiday that she’d taken over hosting once it had become too much for your grandmother to handle, but only on the caveat that everyone began contributing food toward the meal. It’s been a potluck style holiday ever since.
She’s ultra-focused, the volume on her favorite playlist high (this wild mix of 80’s pop and today’s hits that’s actually kind of a banger), so you sneak up behind her and wrap your arms around her. “Hi!”
“Jesus!” Your mom jumps, elbowing you in the process, but you’re laughing too hard to care. “Don’t do that!”
“Just excited to see you!” You beam at her, squeezing her once more, before pulling away. “Where do you want the pie?” Jeff lifts the pie you’d made yesterday, showing your mom.
Your mom purses her lips, studying the kitchen around her. “Leave it on the counter for now; I’ll have your dad clear some space in the garage.” She gestures with her elbow. “Hi Jeff!” 
“Hi!” Jeff pulls out his best smile, a real one, dimples super popped. “Thank you for having me-”
Your mom cuts him off before he can finish, like you knew she would. “Oh, we’re so happy you could make it! You’re welcome anytime, Jeff!” She assures him.
“Is the guest room ready?” You ask. “We’ll throw our stuff upstairs before Dad sees it at the bottom of the steps and has a fit.”
Your mom fights back a laugh at that- a statement that everyone in your family knows all too well-but then looks almost apologetic as she finishes, “It is, but we gave it to Katie.”
“Oh, Katie’s here too?” Your sister’s roommate at college was, at this point, basically another sister to you. She hardly went home for breaks within the semesters, usually came up for at least a month during the summer, and more often than not came home with Abby when she was back for anything. The “guest room” really was more like Katie’s room at this point. 
“Where else would she be?” Abby appears, right on cue, with Katie right behind her, practically matching in leggings and oversized sorority shirts. “It’s Thanksgiving; she’s ready to rage tonight.”
You actually can’t wait for the babies to be hungover tomorrow-both were 21 for their first Thanksgiving Eve and you know they’re going to be in a super rough spot tomorrow-but you keep that thought to yourself. 
“It didn’t even occur to me!” Your mom says apologetically. “I just gave Katie her usual room.”
“No, it’s cool. Jeff and I can share. He doesn’t mind, right?” But you barely even wait for his shrug and nod in agreement. It’s not like you haven’t before, when you’re either too lazy or too drunk to go home. You’re both adults, it’s no big. “I’ve shared a bed with you before; I’ll spare Katie the bruised shins.” You tease your sister.
Katie cracks up as Abby sputters out how rude you are. “It’s a hazard!” Katie agrees, dodging the swat your sister sends towards her. It sets the two of them off, which you take as your cue to grab Jeff’s hand and drag him (and your stuff) up to your room.
Of course, usually when you’re sharing a bed with Jeff, it’s a king sized bed, or at least a queen- definitely not the double that your parents just shoved in your old room to replace the queen bed that had been in there until you moved out and took your furniture with you. You hadn’t realized how small it was though, not until today, until the idea of actually having to share it with someone, with Jeff, who might not be a giant, but isn’t tiny.  “Sorry.” You apologize, almost unsure of what you’re saying.
Jeff shrugs. “Well, at least you don’t kick.” He smiles, as then it’s like everything’s back to normal, that awkward feeling that was growing over you gone as quickly as it came. 
“She’s a bruiser, don’t let her tell you otherwise.” You throw your bag down, rifling through it for the sweater you were planning to wear tomorrow, to hang it up so it isn’t too wrinkled.
Jeff laughs. “I’ll take your word for it.” He’s holding up his shirt, a button down and a tie. “Where can I hang this?”
“You can’t wear that!”
He frowns, likely at the vehemence you’d just spoken that with. “Uhh, why not?”
“You’ll get roasted.” Seriously, you’d told him it wasn’t a dressy affair. God, what part of not dressy does he think requires a tie? “Don’t you have, like, a sweater?”
“I mean, yeah, but-”
“Sweater and jeans, that’s fine.”
Jeff gives you a look. “That doesn’t seem-”
“Sweater. And jeans.” You repeat. He’ll thank you tomorrow, when your uncle doesn’t ask him when tea is. When your cousin doesn’t talk to him only in a fake British accent for the entire night. 
Jeff hands over a sweater, a soft thing you’ve seen him wear on many occasions, and you smile your thanks at him, hanging it up next to yours. “Meet your standards?” He asks; you think he’s aiming for teasing but he kind of misses the mark, sounding a little more nervous than joking.
“Perfect.” He smiles back at you and you laugh. “Come on, you dork. Let’s go see what’s for dinner tonight.”
-----
“Don’t wake me up when you come in tonight!” Your dad calls, as he drops the five of you off at Mel’s, the bar for Thanksgiving Eve. Your friends are already at the bar, you’re anticipating a high school reunion for sure, and you’ve warned Jeff of this, even though he assured you that he could handle it, and he was just excited for a nice, chill night.
You’d actually laughed out loud at that. Oh Jeffrey. 
“Pshh.” Liam waves your dad off. “I haven’t done that since I was like 16 and still having to sneak out.”
Your dad gives him a look. “I was talking to your sister.” He looks over at Abby, who ignores him completely, in favor of taking a SnapChat with Katie, and he sighs resolutely. You all absolutely know she isn’t listening to a word he says. “Have fun, be safe. Uber home.”
Liam salutes him. “Will do.”
Inside the bar, the night starts exactly as you and Liam have started your last few Thanksgiving Eve’s-with a round of shots at the bar as you’re ordering drinks, before splitting off to find your respective friends to start the evening.
Jeff fits in with your friends fantastically, laughing and joking around with them like he’s known them forever, even though you’re sure the only one he’s met is your oldest friend, Ashley. But he greets Ashley and her husband, Brian, like old friends, and quickly joins conversations with all your other friends, and soon hours have passed before your brother is sliding up behind you. “Heads up.” Liam mutters as he passes. “Douche at 3 o’clock.”
You tense as it takes everything in you not to turn and look over. “Hey.” Jeff nudges you, concern clear in his eyes as he looks at you, and you’re not sure what he pulled himself away from, but you must look pretty bad. “You okay?”
You nod, kinda spacily, but leaning in closer to him, and he takes the cue to curl in toward you- you’re not really interested in shouting to the entire bar and you’re really not interested in drawing attention to yourself. “Yeah, just- my ex is over there.”
Jeff purses his lips for a minute and then schools his face back to neutral. “I take it things didn’t end well.”
“No.” You say, thinking of the demise of your relationship with Dylan. “It did not.”
You hadn’t even realized that Jeff grabbed your hand until he’s squeezing it gently. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” You shake your head. “It was...definitely for the best.” It might have taken you a while to see that, but you can now, even if the rare instances you still see Dylan sometimes rattles you. “I thought I was going to marry him, at one point, but I’m so much happier here now.”
Jeff smiles. “Good.”
You squeeze his hand once more, a thanks for his comfort and care, before both of you rejoin the conversation, and you forget about Dylan entirely for the next hour, until you physically run into him coming back from the bar with another round of drinks for you and Jeff.
“Hey!” Dylan beams at you, goes right in for a cheek kiss, like you’re still that familiar, and once again you stiffen up.
“Hi.” You return politely, ready to sidestep around him and return to Jeff and your friends.
“No, wait.” Dylan steps with you, blocking your path. “I haven’t seen you in forever. Let’s catch up a minute, what’s new?”
“No offense, Dylan, but I’m not really looking to catch up with you.” You say flatly.
He opens his mouth to respond, but before he can another voice cuts in. “Everything okay here?” Jeff asks politely, stepping very purposefully next to you, and Dylan’s eyes immediately fly over to him.
“Mhmm,” You nod. “Was just on my way back to you.”
“Good.” Jeff says, in a tone far more harsh than you usually hear him take. “Let’s get back.” He positions himself again, clearing a space for you to easily slip past Dylan, and then steps closely behind you, catching up quickly.
“Thanks.” You lean against him, gently, not looking to spill either of your drinks, but Jeff solves that problem by taking his.
“Any time.” Jeff says softly and you don’t have much else to say on the matter so you just nudge him once more in thanks and walk back toward your friends with him at your side.
-----
When you wake up the next morning, you’re warm and comfortable and only a little hungover, which you count as a huge success. There’s not too much noise going on downstairs yet, which means you definitely have some more time to sleep, so you curl back into your pillow, humming contently when it pulls you in closer.
And then your eyes pop open abruptly, because pillows don’t do that.
Except they do when they look like Jeff Skinner, who looks just as soft and warm and comfortable as you feel right now, still sleeping judging by the evenness of his breath. 
It’s just...it’s a really nice way to wake up, with Jeff’s kind-of smiling face, looking super soft and cozy as he breathes just on the wrong side of too loud, but not so loudly that it drives you nuts. 
It’s a little too early to unpack that, and your hangover might not be that bad but it’s definitely bad enough that you’re not ready to think on that, so you close your eyes and let yourself curl into Jeff and fall back asleep.
-----
When you do finally get out of bed, Thanksgiving morning is its usual chaos, running around with last minute errands, cleaning, and helping your mom in the kitchen. The last to shower for the day, by the time you arrive downstairs, the Lions vs. Bears game is well underway, your notoriously early grandparents have already arrived, and your grandmother is already asking your mom where that one turkey decoration she bought her one year is.
You bypass the kitchen entirely and move toward the living room, where you find your dad, grandfather, Jeff, and siblings all gathered, just as you’d expected. You slide down on the floor next to Jeff, knowing that it’s only a matter of time before more of your family arrives and you’re offering your set up anyway, and wait for the next round of chaos to begin.
It doesn’t take long. Your aunts, uncles, and cousins start pouring in and then it’s just introduction after introduction, as you wrap up showing off Jeff to one group just as the next arrives. You are absolutely confident he has no idea who anyone is, but it’s fine, because he’s still laughing and joking around with all your uncles and cousins that have joined you in watching football. 
The kitchen is its own brand of chaos, when you make a quick stop in on your back from a beer run, but chaos has never stopped your aunt before and it certainly isn’t today. “Oh my god!” She exclaims, after you’ve pressed a smacking kiss to the top of your grandmom’s head. “That boy!”
“What boy?” You ask, like an idiot, which is immediately clear from the looks you get from everyone in the kitchen, even your usually oblivious uncle, who’s doing...something...with the ham they’d brought. “Who, Jeff?”
“Yes.” Another aunt stresses. “He’s cute!”
You shrug. “Yeah, I mean-”
But your grandmom cuts you off this time. “And so friendly! Just the nicest boy! Oh, you couldn’t have found anyone better!” She exclaims.
“Well, I haven’t.” You announce, watching all of their faces fall. “So sorry to burst that bubble.”
“Why?” One of your older cousins frowns. “Girl. Get on that. You are not going to do better than that boy in there.”
“I truly don’t know if that was meant to be a dig at me or you all think that highly of Jeff already, but regardless. We are just friends.” Now everyone in the kitchen is giving you a look. You gather the beers and retreat, distributing them as you return to your spot on the floor near Jeff.
He’s giving you a look as you pass him his, but whatever’s on your face must not be too bad, because he just thanks you as you pass him the bottle, and you nod in return as you try to find the same comfortable spot as before, leaning against his thigh.
-----
Your dad catches you a bit later, as he’s coming back with beers this time and you’re coming out of the bathroom, and he nudges you carefully as you take a few bottles from his hand. “So Jeff?”
You groan. The tone of that statement was far too loaded. “Jesus, you too?”
Your dad laughs. “Who else?”
“Everyone.”
“Well maybe that should be your hint.” Your dad says teasingly, but also not? There’s definitely some seriousness to this. “That Jeff’s pretty perfect for you.”
You stare at him. “You’ve met Jeff, like, a hundred times. Why’s this coming out now?”
“I always thought you were my smart kid and that you’d figure it out yourself.” He muses. “Now I realize you’re only book-smart and you’d never figure this out on your own.” And then he leaves you there in the hallway, with your jaw dropped and too many thoughts, as he continues on, laughing at you.
-----
When the call to come serve yourselves echoes into the room, the usual mad scramble follows immediately. It’s only as you’re getting into line behind your brother that you realize that Jeff’s not with you anymore, and you abandon the long line waiting for food, in favor of seeking out Jeff.
You find Jeff upstairs, in your room, just kind of lounging on your bed, and you lean against the doorway. “Hey! Food’s ready.”
“Yeah.” Jeff nods, the smile he sends you back in return far too tight and forced to be genuine. “Be right down.”
But he doesn’t move, so you step in and climb into your bed next to him. “What’s wrong?”
Jeff laughs; it’s kind of hollow and doesn’t sound anything like his usual loud laugh or his giggles that you love. “What- nothing. Nothing’s wrong.”
“Jeff.” You say softly. “Come on.”
He sighs. “Why did you bring me here?”
That...was not at all what you expected. “What?”
“Why did you bring me here?” He repeats. “Why did you bring me home, to your family? I thought, maybe, finally…” He trails off for a minute. “Except, there’s like ten other randos here too!” He laughs again, that hollow thing that you’re already hating. “Everybody in this family just brings people home, and that’s awesome, okay? Please don’t ever change that about yourself. I just-I thought we had something special, is all.” He says, sounding almost sad? Melancholy? 
“You are special.” You hate this. Jeff should never be sad; he should always be happy and smiling and joking. This is worse than seeing him after losses, worse than seeing him at low points in the season, that one game when he realizes that shit’s done and they’re just playing to keep playing now, that playoffs won’t be coming this year, again. “Jeff, you’re-”
“I’m in love with you.” Jeff says and it’s so straight-up, matter-of-fact, like it’s never not been a fact for him. “And I’m sorry I’ve fucked things up here for tonight and made this so awkward. I just- being here with you and your family just made me want you that much more.”
There’s so so so much you want to say to Jeff, but it’s like time is frozen. You can’t speak, can’t move, can’t do anything except look at him in awe, until he starts to move off your bed, when you reach for him, finally, resting your hand on his thigh, relieved when he looks back at you. “My dad thinks I’m an idiot.” You blurt out and Jeff just gives you a look. “I’m sorry; that wasn’t what I wanted to say.” You take a deep breath, trying to gather the jumble of thoughts in your head. “Or at least, not the only thing. He thinks I’m an idiot because he thinks you’re perfect for me and I didn’t see it. My whole family thinks you’re perfect- cute and friendly and nice- and god, Jeff, you are! You’re all those things!” He’s still watching you, with like, barely the smallest hint of a smile on his face. “I just-didn’t realize you were perfect for me until we came here.”
Now he’s full on beaming, dimples showing, and you don’t even realize that you’re returning the grin until his hand comes up to your face, thumbing at the corner of your lip. “I’m sorry I’m a dumbass.” You finish lamely, too busy smiling at Jeff. “Please kiss me so we can make sure we get biscuits.”
Jeff hums. “I don’t know if I can kiss you now and just...stop.”
“Well I’m not going down to eat until you do.” You say stubbornly. “And you’ve been hyping up those biscuits since breakfast.”
“Fair enough.” Jeff laughs and then you’re smiling into the best first kiss you’ve ever had, tangling your hands into his hair and wondering if you may actually end up missing the meal this year.
240 notes · View notes
pen-paper-and-ink · 3 years
Text
Champagne Problems
Chapter Two
Masterlist
Tumblr media
Aelin Galathynius was tired, but that was what you got when you decided to wake up at six in the morning. Aelin doesn’t remember how Rowan convinced her that 6:30 was a perfectly acceptable time to run in the morning, or how six a.m. really wasn’t thatearly, but she despised him for it.  She knew that was a lie, that she adored Rowan, but every time her alarm goes off, she can’t help but silently curse her best friend.  
Aelin was not a morning person.  One of the only ways she could actually meet Rowan on time most mornings was by sleeping in her leggings, or her gym clothes, that way most mornings all she would have to do was push her feet in her sneakers and pull her golden blonde hair into a pony and be out the door.  Coffee also may or may not help her get her day started.  
She had a Keurig in her apartment, and the sugariest, most creamy coffee creamer in the fridge to help her wake up in the morning.  So that how she usually started her mornings: shoes, hair, and coffee.
The caffine and the sugar in her drink wakes her up as she sips her drink on the way to meet Rowan in front of the campus library, managing to recycle the empty cup just before she sees Rowan.  
They have been going on these morning runs for nearly two years now, since they decided to put their differences beside and become friends. They hated each other when they first met, both dealing with their own inner demons and not realizing that the person they each hated reminded themselves a little too much of what they saw when they looked in the mirror. When they finally called a truce, they decided the both needed a better way to deal with their loss and the stress of the world, hence the near daily jogs.
Even though she hated the early mornings, Aelin would be the first to admit that the runs helped.  She was no longer drinking herself half to death and getting into fist fights, and instead was feeling the steady pound of her feet on the pavement and the beat of her heart as she pushed her body to its limit.  Aelin had always been active in her childhood, avidly practicing karate and mixed martial arts until she was sixteen, she didn’t realize how much she craved the endorphins of exercise and a runner’s high until she was nineteen and started to run with Rowan.
Early on into her friendship with Rowan, Aelin decided becoming friends was one of the best things she had ever done.  Together they had decided to walk the path back to the light, and it had changed Aelin’s life for the better.  Nearing the end of her Junior year at the University of Terrasen, Aelin no longer felt like that angry and bitter freshmen she once was.
Aelin noticed Rowan seemed tired as she approached him, though she supposed that wasn’t odd.  She knew from Sam that he and the guys went out get drinks last night, he usually just wasn’t quite so hung over.  As one of the “healthy lifestyle choices”, as Rowan liked to put it, that they would partake in together was to no longer overindulge in alcohol, and drink their problems away.  Though perhaps this time it was in celebration, as he was approaching the end of his senior year, and she knew how beyond excited he was about starting his master’s program coming that fall.
Though they no longer overindulged, Aelin missed drinking with Rowan.  Rowan got goofy when he drank and damn her if it wasn’t one of the cutest things she had ever seen.  Especially how he giggled when he was tipsy, and she was telling some stupid joke.  She missed him, their lives had been so hectic lately between finishing up the semester and splitting their time among their various friends.
Rowan sighed as they began their run.  Aelin glanced over at Rowan. Who was scowling his way through his morning workout, that at least was semi-normal.  Rowan was not the mostly openly happy man on the best of days, scowling while running through his hangover seemed just like Rowan. They made their way through campus and ran past some of the historic buildings of downtown Orynth.  Aelin always loved this part of the city, she liked to imagine the lives of the long-ago royals as she ran past the palace and what used to be the mansions and hot spots of the wealthy.  
The buildings still belonged to the wealthy, but now they mostly made-up high-end apartment buildings and trendy boutiques and restaurants  near the U of T campus. Aelin should know, her apartment was located inside one of the former mansions, now a trendy apartment complex, near the palace and just a fifteen-minute walk to the campus library.
Aelin and Rowan’s pace began to slow down as they reached the end of their five-mile run, they had almost made it back to the library, the halfway point between both of their apartments.  When they finally reached their stopping point, Aelin flashed Rowan a smile over her shoulder which her warily returned.
“Well, you certainly worked your alcohol consumption off now.” Aelin joked towards Rowan, who just scowled in return.  “You can now go out again tonight, and not feel guilty about all the drinks you downed yesterday.”
“I didn’t drink that much,” Rowan protested.
“Really? That’s not what Sam told me,” Aelin shot back snarkily.  Rowan just sighed, and Aelin flashed him a triumphant grin. “Will I see you at the Cadre tonight?” she asked, naming their local haunt for cheap drinks near campus.
Rowan just solemnly nodded and said “See you tonight, Ace.” As he trudged his way back to his own apartment.
Aelin smiled to herself as she strolled at a leisurely pace as she made her way back to her own apartment.  Aelin loved her apartment.  She loved the white marble counter tops in her kitchen, her sofa in her living room, perfect for lounging the day away, it was her safe haven.  Aelin purchased the place right after her freshmen year of College ended, she would soon be moving out of her dorm and she needed a place to call home, since she could not stand to be alone in the house where she and her parents once lived.
One of the newer fixtures in Aelin apartment was her boyfriend, Sam Cortland.  She had just recently given him a key, so he saw fit to come to her apartment whenever he pleased.
“I see you let yourself in.” Aelin called as she walked through the door.
Sam looked up and grinned at her from his seat at the kitchen island, “Just thought I’d check on my beautiful girlfriend, and see what she was up to today.”
“Besides finishing my English lit paper and getting out of these disgustingly sweaty clothes?” Aelin asked.
“Yes, besides that.” Sam laughed over his cup of coffee.
“I told Rowan I’d meet him at the Cadre tonight.” Aelin said, as she watched Sam’s face become closed off, as he stared deeply into his mug.
“Rowan didn’t say anything about last night, did he?” Sam asked cautiously.
Aelin snorted, “No. It seems you guys had fun last night, judging by Rowan’s hang over though,” Aelin laughed. “I’m surprised you’re up and functioning this morning,” Aelin said as she went over to poke her boyfriend in the stomach.
“Well, I clearly didn’t have as good of a night as Rowan did,” Sam laughed, “but I was thinking we could have a good night soon.” Aelin perked up. “How about Mistward’s next Friday night? We can invite the whole gang. It can be our celebration for graduating and finishing our sophomore year.”
“Mistwards, huh?” Aelin was skeptical, Mistward’s was one of the nicest restaurants in all of Orynth, and one of the most expensive. “Do you really think our friends would be up for that? I don’t think Lorcan can dress nicely enough to get into a place like Mistward’s.”
At the end of every school year, Aelin and all her friends would gather, usually at the Cadre, and have a huge blow out celebration for finishing up the school year.  This year was different since both Rowan and Sam were graduating, this celebration had to be better, and to reflect all of them, and MIstward’s definitely did not reflect Rowan.
“I think I can convince them,” Sam said with a sly grin.
“I don’t Know…”
“Come on, Aelin,” He was still smiling, “I got it covered.” He set his mug of coffee on the counter and got up to kiss her. He pulled her into his arms, holding her close.  She relaxed into his warmth.
“I’m surprised you’re willing to touch me; I’m covered in sweat.” Aelin mumbled into his chest.
Sam laughed heartily, “Maybe my intentions weren’t so pure, we’re both fairly sweaty now. How about I run us a shower.”
Aelin laughed and began to walk into her bathroom to run a shower for the both of them.
65 notes · View notes
taeyaxx · 4 years
Note
How would the Haikyuu Captains spend Christmas with you? Like, what gift would they get you and the activities y’all would do? (Bokuto, Oikawa, Daichi, Kuroo, Ushijima, and Terushima)
tae’s notes: aaaaaaah!! ok so i love my nsfw but sfw like this makes my heart go 🥺🥰🥰 i really love hc’s like this too because all these boys are DORKS!!! thank you so much for the ask!! <3
⫸ ━━━━━━━━ ♥ ━━━━━━━━ ⫷
tags: sfw, fluff, bokuto is the biggest nerd when it comes to the holidays, holiday fun, cozy winter’s, warm sweaters, longer post, hc’s, mention of nsfw, mention of alcohol, just mostly sweet hc’s okay 🥺
⫸ ━━━━━━━━ ♥ ━━━━━━━━ ⫷
taglist: @kaaidalupita @ushiwakajimas @lunarkawa
Tumblr media
okay so for bokuto i imagine him as the BIGGEST holiday person
like he goes above and beyond for the holidays 
especially Christmas!!! 
will go all out and i mean it!!
brings home a billion decertations and makes it a competition to see who can hang up the most in ten minutes
he always wins somehow 
buys you two ugly ass sweaters too
like i mean those really really ugly sweaters that he knows are ugly but it’s become a tradition between you two 
just wearing.......the ugliest sweaters as you two put the tree up 
as for gifts i think bokuto isn’t one to put like....a lot of money into them?
feel like he’s the type of guy to buy you something that hits you in the heart and makes you want to smother him in kisses
nothing too expensive but it’s the sentimental thought that counts
as for party games or activities i think bo would be into the cuter ones like gingerbread houses or just baking in general 
not that he knows how to bake but he likes to help you make cookies okay
(by help i mean he’s got his arms wrapped around your waist and chin on your shoulder and watching you bake and occasionally handing you things)
he’d sweep you under the mistletoe and kiss you until you both started laughing
picking you up he’d carry you off to the bedroom, sharing a chuckle with you for no other reason than just how in love he is with you
and then he’d quiet down and make the slowest, sweetest love to you 🥺
Tumblr media
alright the next boy is the lovely oikawa!
feel like he isn’t the BIGGEST holiday person
for no reason i just think he’d be like “eh it’s another day”
but that DEF changes when he meets you
his attitude starts to go from “it’s a Tuesday” to slowly looking forward to every holiday he can celebrate with you
especially Christmas because it’s the one day he can spoil you in gifts and you can’t really get mad at him
like bokuto tho, he wouldn’t be the most expensive gifts
he’d get a bunch of things he had noticed you spoke of or the things your eyes lingered on just a little longer than others when you two were out
def the type to wake you up with breakfast in bed 
like isn’t the GREATEST cook in the world but he knows how to make some decent food
and he makes sure everything is perfect for your holiday morning
he’d pull out your favorite sweater of his and he’d wear it all day
bring you warm fuzzy socks and his favorite sweater for you and a cup of coffee/tea/hot chocolate
his main gift is probably that one pair of shoes you had wanted for awhile but could never bring yourself to buy
or just any similar gift
for activities, oikawa is ALL about the games
he sets up every holiday game he can think of 
does that stupid thing where he wraps a specific gift in like 12 layers of duct tape and 8 layers of bubble wrap and 5 layers of zip ties
like is an ASS abt it but it’s always funny having to beg him to get a pair of scissors for you because he went overboard again
after gifts he’d pull you off to the bedroom and kiss you slowly before 
giving you all the pleasure in the world 🥰
Tumblr media
next is daichi! let’s just say....
MY BOY!!!
daichi here isn’t into any other holiday EXCEPT for Christmas 
mans does everything for Christmas
he’s buying the decorations and hanging them up with your help
setting the tree up IN NOVEMBER !!
goes crazy with the lights outside too
like y’all are def known for being THAT house on the street just 
full blown Christmas lights
when Christmas morning comes tho, he’d wake you up nice and early (not anymore so than normal tho) and take you into the kitchen where he’s made the BIGGEST breakfast for you
i’m talking every breakfast food is out on the tabel and you can’t help but shake your head
cause who’s gonna eat it all? 
somehow you two finish up whatever you can before he’s moving onto doing some small activities 
he doesn’t go crazy with them but likes to do some stuff with you
somehow got into painting? 
don’t know how it happened but i feel like he sets up an entire thing in one of the spare rooms
and you two just paint the silliest things you can think of 
and at some point you two def play drunk roulette and try to guess what alcohol was what in each cup  
as for gifts the man is stupid when it comes to buying things 
he goes so overboard when spending money on you 
doesn’t buy like 15 million gifts but will buy you 3 or 4 SUPER expensive gifts 
and you sit there, opening them up and knew he would spend too much money so you also had to buy more expensive gifts 
that he would use everyday just because you paid for them of course
by the end of the night you two end up on the couch, cuddling under a giant blanket, and watching some hallmark Christmas movies smh 
and if you want something a little more exciting, because daichi is That gentleman, he waits for you to ask
and when you do? y’all don’t even move to the bed 
he’d kiss you all slow and dim the lights and let the movie behind you play out as you two focus on the more intimate parts of the holiday
Tumblr media
kuroo my baby.....my life....my heart I love him
mans is so cute during the holidays he’s just 🥺
baby boy doesn’t wake up super early at all
he’d wake up a little bit but you two know it’s too cold so you just cuddle in closer and fall asleep until noon
when you two finally get up tho, he’s sluggish pulling you out of bed and giving you a sweater to wear and that’s all he wants you to wear
pulling you into the living room to reveal his gift for you and it’s gotta be like a dog or cat or something istg 
you’d just walk into a new cat sitting on the couch just sleeping away and you just SIGH 
“kuroo...it’s adorable but this will be the 4th cat we have”
“BAAAABE it’s so cute tho 🥺”
so you get another cat lol Which is fine cause…..it is cute 🥺
can’t decide if kuroo would wait until night to get into the sexc or if he would just start the entire day off with little whispers and lazy sex and then it’s just all daaaaay baby 
pulls you into the bath together
like srsly would fuck you all day long as a gift too 
and god if it isn’t a great gift tho smh 
finally you both decide to get dressed and go out to any open place for dinner 
being too tired from the rest of the activities you had done all day
which is probably why you guys don’t play any games at all lol you just end up being too tired
so no traditional activities other than being bent over every surface in your house 
after it gets too dark i’m sure you two would just cuddle into bed, legs tangled up in a mess and just whisper all the things you love abt each other yk how it be 🥺🥺
Tumblr media
NOW THIS IS MY MAAAAAAN UGH 
ushi doesn’t really see the desire of the entire holiday
like giving gifts and eating a good dinner should be EVERY NIGHT he thinks
Christmas eve you two would visit his family (cause uwu farm boi) so that way he’d have you all to himself Christmas day
probs has a tradition on like baking pie together or some kind of sweets
makes it a little competition to see who can bake the best pie tbh
you always win somehow
other than that he really isn’t into too many games?
he just enjoys your company and usually places you and himself in front of the fireplace and you two cuddle for the entire day
you read books and joke and laugh and paint your nails and do just mundane things together
at some point in the night tho he’d turn on some music and would slow dance with you in the kitchen 🥺
as for gifts?
BRUH
that’s all i’m gonna say sjksjd 
ok ok but no this man buys you SO MUCH
like yeah he doesn’t see the reason to buy you gifts only for this one day (cause let’s tbh he buys you gifts constantly)
but for Christmas? he just..... “oh this is a thing everyone else does so i must do it too” but in the kindest way
buys you an entire new wardrobe because he notices you wanting some new shirts
buys you new purses or wallets or jewelry
would surprise you with a trip to some vacation home somewhere
like he is all god giving on Christmas 
lowkey would def surprise you with an entire new wardrobe just for lingerie and you can’t fight me on this
it makes you a little sad you only buy him a few new watches and new ties or whatever else he might have mentioned over a few lunches or dinners
he doesn’t mind tho since he’s literally all abt pleasuring you yk
for the later activities tho, i feel like he’d be more like daichi?
like def would bend you over the counter as you two cooked dinner or in front of the fireplace but he waits for you
waits until you’re calling for him to make love to you
and when he does? UGH
let’s just say he has you crying later 
Tumblr media
baby boy....baby....
much like kuroo i feel like he’d wanna make love ALL DAY 
wakes you up early just to have morning sex
after the third round you have to tell him they need to eat something
and tbh feel like he might lowkey forget to get you a gift until the LAST DAY 
like he def just bought this gift last night and wrapped it while you slept 
and tbh....it’s so cute of him to do that jkjks
he seems like the type to buy you jewelry or socks or both lol
like buys you a new necklace and some rings
def doesn’t try to talk you into getting a matching tongue piecing yk
also feel like he’d buy a new set of “bedroom toys” for you two to try out
and at first it’s like “of course he would” but you thank him later after using them
also a HUGE fan of ugly sweaters
but makes it a game to see who can MAKE the ugliest sweater like 
you will not see this man spend money on an ugly sweater but he will buy a bunch of ugly accessories just so you two can have fun making them
so it’s a tradition now that you two a week before Christmas begin making ugly sweaters
usually it ends up being a tie smh
feel like he would be into a bunch of other games tho
like the white elephant games or caramel apples and ginger bread houses
he just wants to spend all his time with you so he looks up a bunch of games you two can play 
he almost seems like the type to do puzzles? so maybe you two would work on a 2,000 piece puzzle together 
watch really old and bad movies together too
for some reason i feel like he’d be the best cook out of all the boys??? for no reason really i just...imagine he knows how to cook so well
so he def makes this big ass dinner of anything you wanted even if it’s not traditional food
like the one year you guys literally had PIZZA just because it sounded good
also talk abt snow ball fights and building all sorts of things outta the snow
and y’all can fight me on this............after a few years he’d be that cliche guy to propose to you and confess his entire heart out for you 
(of course you say yes becausae you’re so in love with him 🥰)
319 notes · View notes