#i think it’ll be two years in october

[wandasgf]

WEST COAST. mdni. 18+.

pairings: older!natasha romanoff + f!maximoff!reader

summary: in which natasha agrees to help with a bake sale and you both stumble into admitting your feelings

warnings: legal age gap (natasha is 43 and reader is 22), pining lesbians, top!natasha, bottom!reader, finger sucking, light dom/sub dynamics, fingering, brief daddy kink

wc: 5.7k

a/n: thank you very much for this request, it gave me brain worms, also this is not proof read so :]

“Come on, Tash, please? Mom said you’d go with me because she’ll be busy with B and T’s school fair.” You practically beg the older woman, holding your cell phone carefully between your cheek and shoulder as you finish mixing up the ingredients for the cupcakes you were baking; it wouldn’t be the first time you dropped it in some cake batter if you weren’t careful. Half of them were for Billy and Tommy’s school fair and the other half were for the bake sale you were helping out with at your university. You had taken it upon yourself to do the baking this year because you knew your mother, Wanda, would be busy with work and getting your younger brothers ready for the fair. They were always very hyper and excitable, it took a lot to round them up. You didn’t really mind though, you did have some extra free time and you always got restless when you truly had nothing to do.

Natasha chuckles on the other end of the phone, “Your mom can say anything she wants, sweetheart. That doesn’t make it true, that just makes her Wanda.” She can practically hear you rolling your eyes as you groan at her response. She’s typing lazily with one hand as the other holds her cellphone, not paying nearly as much attention to her work as she should, especially with the deadlines coming up for this quarter. She can’t help it, though, you rarely call her like this, and when you do she wants to give you as much attention as she possibly can. “Besides, I thought this was something you could handle on your own. You’re a big girl, aren’t you? A little bake sale shouldn’t scare you.”

“Ugh, I’m not scared, you jerk. I just think it would be a little easier if I had someone to help me! And, I want to check out everything else too. I heard the haunted house this year is gonna be amazing! Peter’s working on it with MJ, I just have to go,” you put the phone down on the counter and put it on speaker, not wanting to risk dropping it while you pour the batter into the cupcake tray; that wouldn’t be the first time either. “It won’t be as much fun if I’m by myself, and Kate will be busy trying to make people want to join the archery club. Please? It’ll be so fun, I’ll even give you a cupcake for free.” You try to bargain with her, knowing that she’s always been a fan of your baking since she’s so terrible at it herself.

The bake sale was a part of your university’s fall celebration. Every October, they held a bake sale, a club fair, a haunted house, games and some other things in the week leading up to Halloween. This was your fourth one, and usually, you’d force your friend Kate to help you, but this year she’d agreed to help out with the archery club before you could ask. Not that you minded, because when you brought it up, your mother had absentmindedly suggested that maybe Natasha could help you since she couldn’t, and you would never say no to spending time with the redhead. You don’t know when exactly your schoolgirl crush on your mother’s friend turned into the very real thing it was now. You wouldn’t even say it was a crush because at this point you were certain you were damn near in love with the older woman, but you knew it was something you could never have. So, even as you and Natasha grew closer as you grew older, becoming something akin to friends now that you’ve reached your early twenties, all you could do was cherish the time you got together. 

You can hear Natasha sigh before she responds, “Fine, but you better make it two or I’m leaving before you get to that haunted house.” You’re about to thank her profusely before she speaks again, effectively cutting you off before you even started, “Now, listen, I’d love to stay on the phone with you, but if I’m gonna take the day off tomorrow, I’ve got some work to finish. I’ll see you tomorrow, alright?” 

You both bid each other goodbye and once you hang up the phone, you smile giddily. Natasha was going to take the day off tomorrow for you. Natasha, who was always busy with work, was going to take the day off so she could help you with your silly fall bake sale. “Oh my God… Oh my God!” You feel like a teenage girl with a crush again, getting so excited over something so simple, but you just can’t help it because you know if anyone else had asked, Natasha would have said no. You check the time to make sure none of your family members would be home soon before you call Kate. You just have to tell her about this. You have to get out all your nervous excitement and giddiness before you see Natasha tomorrow, you’ve always been afraid she could see right through you and your feelings. You didn’t need to be more obvious than usual tomorrow. 

And, yeah, you do make two cupcakes specially for Natasha with red icing because you know it’s her favorite color even though the rest of the icing is orange and black. 

-

Tomorrow comes quicker than both you and Natasha would like. You, because you still don’t know what to wear, and honestly, you’re a little worried Kate might come by and say something stupid. She’s always telling you to just put it out there and let Natasha know how you feel, but you can name at least a thousand reasons why that is the worst idea she’s ever had. Not including when she broke the church’s bell tower by accident when she was a freshman. First and foremost being that Natasha is your mother’s best friend, Natasha is twice your age, and ruining the little platonic relationship that you have with Natasha would hurt you more than when Karolina Dean moved away in the seventh grade when the two of you had what you would now call some sort of situationship. 

And Natasha, because she doesn’t really know why she agreed to do this at all. She really does have work she needs to get done and there’s truly no reason she couldn’t have told you to ask one of your university friends to help you, she knows Kate isn’t your only friend, far from it. Well, the first part of that is a lie– she does know why. She knows exactly why she agreed to help you, she agreed because you asked. What she doesn’t know is what she’s going to do around you today with no one as buffer. No Wanda, no Billy, no Tommy, not even her sister Yelena, it’s just you and her. Sure, there would be other students on campus and coming up to the bake sale table, but in her mind, it’s still just you and her. She doesn’t like when it’s just you and her, because when it is everything feels too real. Suddenly, when it’s just the two of you, there’s no reason for her to hold back. And she knows she needs to hold back, she has to because there’s no world in which you would ever be allowed to be hers. 

You’re holding up different sweaters in the mirror, trying to figure out which looks better with the particular shade of denim you’re wearing, when you hear a knock on your door and your mother walks in. “What’s up?” You turn your head to look at her before turning back to the mirror, still trying to decide. “The one with the brown in it,” she hums, walking over to sit on your bed. She’d always been able to tell just what you were thinking even if you didn’t ask. “You’re overthinking this sweater a lot. Are you sure it’s just Natasha that’s going to be with you today?” You weren’t prepared for her question and your eyes widen just the slightest and you hope she doesn’t notice. “Yeah, just Natasha. Kate’s doing her archery thing, and I think America is helping MJ and Peter with the haunted house.”

“Okay… Well, if there was someone, you know it’s okay for you to tell me, right?”

“Mom!” You groan, she seriously cannot be doing this right now. You’re a grown woman, for god’s sake… but you do appreciate how much she cares for you, you just can’t tell her. Ever.

“Alright, alright! I just wanted you to know. The boys and I are going to be leaving in a few minutes. You should come say goodbye to them, I think they’re going to stay at your father’s tonight...”

You make a noise of agreement, nodding. You know there was a ‘but’ that she wanted to say, but you both knew what it was without her saying it out loud. They were supposed to stay with Vision last weekend too, but that never happened. “I’ll be down in a few minutes.” 

Wanda squeezes your shoulder as she walks past you, and you wait until she’s shut the door before you let your head fall back slightly, staring up at the ceiling. You can’t help but think she’s known for a while, and you feel slightly nauseous at the fact. If she knows, maybe Natasha does too, and that just can’t happen. 

Natasha arrives a few minutes after Wanda and the boys leave, opting to pull into the driveway when she sees the lack of her friend’s minivan in it. She told you she’d pick you up because it made no sense to take two cars and she had to pass your house to get to the university anyway. She takes two seconds before she turns the car off and gets out. She’s too old to be acting like an insecure teenager, she can do this. She’s dressed for the occasion, wanting to fit into the fall theme, wearing a nice knit sweater and a casual pair of pants. 

Her heart squeezes when you open the door and you’re wearing your own knit sweater, she forgot how cute you looked during the fall. “Tasha! I’ll just be a few minutes, I have to get everything packed up and put my shoes on, but then we can go. Come in!” You’re out of her sight as quick as you stepped into it, wanting to get everything done as quickly as possible. You didn’t want to make her wait. 

“I was hoping you wouldn’t make me stand out here the whole time.” Natasha steps inside, wiping any dirt off of the bottom of her boots on the doormat. She’d take them off, but there’s no point if you’ll just be leaving in a few minutes, anyway. Sue her. “Where are those cupcakes I was promised?”

“They’re on the counter, the red ones.” You call out from the kitchen, you weren’t expecting her so early or maybe you’d lost track of time after you said your goodbyes to everyone earlier. It’s a comfortable silence as you move around the room, packing everything up while Natasha eats her cupcakes, offering to help you every few minutes, but you just wave her off. She wouldn’t usually let you do that, but she was enjoying the food, so she’d settle for not letting you bring anything out to the car, she’d do that herself. 

“Okay, done!” You say, proud of how quickly you’d gotten everything done, and turn to look at Natasha only to find her already looking at you. You feel heat rush to your cheeks and you avert your gaze quickly. “I can see that. You put your shoes on and I’ll bring everything out to the car.” She doesn’t phrase it as a question, but you open your mouth to object anyway, only to be interrupted before you can speak, “It’ll be faster this way, won’t it? Go put your shoes on, cupcake.”

The name leaves you grumbling as you huff and walk out of the kitchen, knowing she’s right. Natasha only chuckles before she starts bringing everything out to her car, making sure that nothing is going to accidentally get squished or have their containers tipped over. Once everything is settled, she grabs the latte from the cupholder in the front seat and meets you at your front door as you’re locking it, “This is for you because I know you spent way too long in the kitchen last night.” 

“Non-dairy?”

“Of course.”

“Then thank you.” You take the cup from her, your breath hitching when your fingers brush and bring it up to your lips to take a drink. “Oh my God, this is good.”

“I figured you’d like it. Now, come on, weren’t you the one who said we needed to get there early?”

-

The car ride passes comfortably, with the occasional small talk, but mostly the radio playing quietly in the background while you sip on your latte and Natasha taps against the steering wheel in time with the song. You find that you don’t need to talk to enjoy your time with her, just being with her is enough. Feeling her presence around you is enough for you to feel relaxed and get that warm feeling that only Natasha can give you. When you arrive and Natasha finds somewhere to park, you take a quick scan of the quad. Thankfully, she was able to find close parking, which is a miracle, really. Your eyes light up when you spot Professor Potts standing near an empty table which you can now only assume is for the bake sale. 

“I’ll be right back, I just have to go talk to Professor Potts for a second.” You point behind you with your thumb and then turn to leave. You only take two steps before you’re turning your head to look at Natasha again, “But, actually, since I know you won’t let me help, you can start bringing everything over to the table. I’ll be right next to it.”

Natasha laughs a little under her breath at how quickly you went from ‘you’re not carrying everything yourself, Tasha’ in the car to ‘actually, you do everything’ now that you were actually here. “Yes, Ma’am.” She teases, and you roll your eyes at her before starting to walk over. 

It doesn’t actually take long for Natasha to bring everything over to the table, and by the time she’s done, you’re wrapping up your conversation with Professor Potts– Pepper, as you usually call her. You were just double checking the details of the bake sale and what the prices were supposed to be before you properly set everything up, but you didn’t think Natasha would be particularly interested in that conversation, so you figured she’d be happy enough to bring everything over while you talked. “Oh! Pepper, this is Natasha. Natasha, this is Pepper. She’s one of the professors who helps run the student societies!”

“It’s nice to meet you, Natasha. I didn’t realize Y/N was bringing her partner today.” Pepper smiles and holds her hand out for Natasha to shake. 

“Oh, she’s n–”

“It’s nice to meet you as well. It was a bit of a last minute thing, something about Kate and archery, but I’m sure it’ll be fun.” Natasha shakes Pepper’s hand, mirroring the other woman’s smile. 

“Speaking of Kate and archery, I’m sure you two can manage this just fine on your own, because I have to go find her and make sure that her ‘advertising’ of the archery club doesn’t include any actual arrows this time.” Pepper sighs, and Natasha just laughs like she knows exactly what it’s like to deal with Kate’s antics, before Pepper walks off.

You stare at Natasha wordlessly for a couple of seconds, thinking maybe she’s going to say something about the fact that she just implied the two of you are together, but instead she just raises an eyebrow at you. “Are you going to tell me how you want this table set up or am I just supposed to guess?”

“Oh– no, yeah, I’ll help.” Your cheeks heat up as you start telling her where you want everything placed and start to write the prices on the little chalkboard easel Pepper had put on the table. You quickly forget all about the incident as you start setting things up and your friends stop by the table to talk before going to tend to their own responsibilities. You don’t really pick up on the way they all point out Natasha’s presence, meaning to tease you, but you just tell them happily that she’d agreed to help because Kate couldn’t. 

The rest of the bake sale goes on like this until you run out of things to sell, some people making comments about how good of a pair you and Natasha made or saying something about how they didn’t realize you’d have someone with you here today. You seemed to ignore it, not saying anything about it or giving any indication that it made you uncomfortable, but Natasha was quick to pick up on what the implications were. It didn’t help, she realized, that the color palettes the two of you chose to wear complimented each other so well that it looked a little like your outfits were matching. 

The way in which you acted as if these comments were normal and that you might have expected them or even welcomed them makes Natasha’s brain go haywire. She can’t help but think of all the things this could possibly mean, but the final thought her brain lands on is that she can’t help but wonder if it would be wrong of her to bask in this for just a little bit. She had already not corrected Pepper when she implied you were together– though, that was more so because she didn’t want to embarrass either of you. So would it be so wrong for her to lean into that? To let everyone think you were a couple? To treat you like you were her’s for just a little bit? She doesn’t think so. 

You’re in almost a daze as the rest of the day goes by. Natasha takes you to the haunted house like you wanted and holds your hand the whole time so you don’t get too scared. If you had known Yelena was helping inside the house, you might not have wanted to go so bad. She’s still holding your hand when you exit the haunted house, and she continues to hold it when you talk to Peter and MJ when you spot them outside. She lets go when she gets a phone call and gives you an apologetic smile and excuses herself, but not before giving your hand a little squeeze, and you feel your heart leap in your chest. All of this feels too natural, being with Natasha like this. Holding her hand, laughing with her, walking with her. It’s now when you realize just how close you and Natasha have been all day and you stumble in the middle of your sentence while talking to MJ. 

“You okay there?”

“Yeah!” It comes out too loud and too quickly, “yeah, I’m fine. Just a little tired, you know. Long day and late night last night baking.” 

“Mm… Nothing to do with your woman over there?” MJ points not so subtly over at where Natasha is currently talking on the phone.

Your eyes go wide, “She’s not– she’s not my woman, MJ!”

“You’ve been holding hands this whole time and she’s… here instead of at work,” she gives you a look like she doesn’t believe you at all, “seems like your woman to me.”

“Yeah! Mr. Stark only ever takes time away from work if Ms. Potts asks him to and you know how they are, Y/N.” Peter chimes in.

You feel your face go red hot and you groan, “can we please stop talking about this right now?”

“Stop talking about what?” You jump when Natasha suddenly appears beside you and wraps her arm around your waist. 

“Oh, we were just talking about how scared Y/N got in the haunted house.” MJ lies smoothly before giving you a look. 

“Yes, but now we’re done talking about that and we should get back to our table to clean up properly.” You change the subject, trying not to focus on Natasha’s arm wrapped around you, but it’s lighting your body on fire and it’s very hard to focus on anything else. She squeezes your side softly and nods, “sure. It was nice talking to you, MJ, Peter. Good job on the haunted house.”

You barely let Peter get out a “Thanks, Ms. Romanoff!” before you’re slipping out of Natasha’s hold to grab her hand and practically dragging her away from them. She heard the conversation starting from you stuttering over the implication that you’re together, but for you, she can pretend she didn’t hear a thing. So, instead of bringing it up, she gives your hand a soft squeeze. “It’s okay that you were scared, you know? You don’t need to be embarrassed, Yelena can be pretty terrifying when you actually get a look at her.”

“Tasha!” You scold, swatting at her shoulder, “don’t be mean to your sister,” but you can’t help but giggle just a little bit. She only chuckles, and despite the way you’re both struggling to decide whether to bring your feelings up or not, you settle into the comfortable existence you share with each other. 

Before you know it, you’re in Natasha’s car again and on your way to her house. She said she just had a couple of things to do in her home office before she would take you home again, but she would try to be as quick as possible. Technically speaking, your mother should be done with Billy and Tommy’s school fair and you could just ask her to come pick you up, but you don’t tell Natasha that. You would much rather get to spend some extra time with the older woman (and you love the way her house smells) than go home and inevitably spiral as you think about the day and everything that’s happened with her before calling Kate and spilling everything. 

When you get there, she tells you to make yourself comfortable and help yourself to anything in the kitchen if you want to before she disappears into her office at the end of the hall. You settle down on her couch and scroll through your phone for a few minutes before you start to get bored. You consider the fact that Natasha is working on her day off and think that maybe she’d appreciate a coffee, especially if she didn’t have to make it herself, so you stand up and wander into the kitchen. It’s nice and modern, but it has a few personal touches that make it distinctly Natasha. You notice that the coffee maker is right on top of the counter and you look in the cupboard for a mug before you get started on making her coffee. 

You’re pretty sure that the only thing Natasha likes in her coffee is a little bit of sugar, so you take a little look around the pantry until you find some, and when the coffee is ready, you pour it into the mug before adding a little sugar. You hum to yourself and make sure you haven’t spilled anything on the counter, picking up the mug and then starting the path to Natasha’s office. This all feels so natural, that the usual nervousness of doing something like this for the older woman doesn’t even creep in until you actually see her. 

You knock on the door, waiting a second before opening it with your free hand. “Tasha?” You push the door open and Natasha looks up from the paperwork on her desk to greet you with a smile. “You get bored out there, sweetheart?” She puts her glasses up on the top of her head and turns to look at you properly. 

“I. um, made you coffee. I figured you might want some since you weren’t expecting to have to work today.” You walk towards her desk and when you’re close enough, she takes the mug from you and leans up to press a soft kiss to your lips as a sign of her gratitude, “thank you, sweetheart.”

Your brain short circuits.

She almost drops the mug onto the floor. 

You just look at her, frozen, for a few seconds as you watch the wheels turning in her head. She puts the mug down on the desk carefully as she tries to figure out what exactly she’s going to say now. She hadn’t even really thought about it before it happened, it just felt so natural and like something she’s supposed to and allowed to do. But in reality, kissing you has never been any of those things. She’s never done that before even that one time you got so drunk, you practically begged her to. She’s been very careful with her actions and with restraining herself, but now? What does she do now?

“Natasha...” Your voice comes out almost like a whisper and for some reason, you’re a little afraid that she’ll tell you to leave. That she had just been caught in the moment and she would never knowingly kiss you under any other circumstance. 

Natasha opens her mouth to speak, but then she gets a proper look at you standing nervously in front of her and she mutters a ‘fuck it’ under her breath. “Come here, baby.” She pushes her desk chair out slightly and guides you into her lap without any kind of resistance from you. You fidget in her lap, not used to this kind of proximity with the older woman. “I’m gonna kiss you again, alright?”

With those words, it’s like a switch flips and you surge forward to crash your lips against hers. She lets out a little surprised noise before she kisses you back properly, moving her lips against yours and resting her hands on your hips. She lets you lead for a bit until you get a bit too bold for her liking and she grips your hips harder as a warning. She was in charge, not you, and she was going to make that very clear. 

Almost immediately she’s dominating the kiss, and you tangle your fingers in her hair. Her glasses fall off somewhere behind her, but neither of you really care enough to check where. You only pull away because you need to breathe, and when you do, your chest is heaving and you’re a little dazed. Natasha coos and reaches up to cup your cheek, rubbing her thumb against your soft skin. “Do you need a little break, sweetheart, hm? You look a bit flustered.” She teases before swiping her thumb across your bottom lip, and you grumble slightly, “I’m not–” 

Natasha pushes her thumb into your mouth and presses down on your tongue before you can finish, “ah, ah, don’t talk back to me, Y/N,” she scolds, and you whine quietly. You want to bite down on her thumb in retaliation for the use of your actual name, but you know that will only make things worse for you. Not that things are particularly bad right now, you’d probably take anything Natasha gave you, but you’d prefer her cooing over you and doting on you at the moment. 

Instead, you suck softly on her thumb and you know it’s the right decision when she hums in approval. It was almost too easy for the two of you to fall into this rhythm, like you were meant for each other. You both knew exactly what the other wanted and you’d do anything to please her while she’d do anything to keep you happy. Her other hand squeezes softly at your hip before it begins playing with the waistband of your jeans. “We’ve had a long day, huh? You did so well at the bake sale, you deserve a reward, don’t you?”

You nod, looking at her pleadingly and whining softly. Your clothes feel too warm and you want her to touch you, and she’s wearing too many clothes, and you want to touch her, but her thumb is in your mouth and you can’t just push her away. So, you opt for looking like a kicked puppy until she understands what you want. 

“What is it, hm?” Natasha pulls her thumb out of your mouth and you chase after it slightly until you realize that maybe she wants you to actually tell her and you open your mouth to speak. Your breath catches in your throat, though, when her other hand trails down and cups your clothed cunt. “Do you want me to touch you, is that it?”

“Tasha, please.” You whimper. You can barely feel anything through your jeans and it’s already driving you crazy. You just hope she’s not the type to tease. 

“Alright, alright, arms up.” Natasha chuckles and waits for you to follow her instruction before slipping your sweater off over your head. Her eyes darken as she takes in your bra clad chest and she greedily gropes at your breasts for a moment. “So pretty,” she mumbles, leaning in to kiss softly at your neck.

You moan softly and you clutch at her sweater. Natasha’s hands on you feel better than you ever could have imagined, and you’ve spent more time than you care to admit imagining this. She’s not too rough, but she’s not too soft either. She touches you with the perfect amount of force and it makes your head spin. 

Her hands trail down your chest and then your stomach, leaving goosebumps in their wake, before her fingertips dance across the waistband of your jeans. “You looked so cute today in your little fall outfit. Do you know how hard it was for me to keep my hands to myself?” Natasha pulls back, her skilled fingers now moving to unbutton your jeans. “You make things so hard for me, sweetheart. It’s like you’re trying to torture me.”

“I just like to look nice for you, Tasha. Is that wrong?”

“Up.” She taps your thigh, and you stand so that she can tug your jeans down for you to step out of. Normally, you’d be a lot more shy about undressing like this for the first time, but right now you just can’t seem to care. 

Natasha pulls you back down into her lap and then pulls you in for a kiss. Her hands find purchase on your hips and her tongue finds its way into your mouth, easily gaining dominance over you. You moan into her mouth as your fingers tangle in her hair again, trying to pull her impossibly closer. 

And then finally, after what seems like forever, she slips one hand inside your panties. The gasp you let out when her middle finger ghosts over your slit is like music to her ears, and she pulls away from the kiss so she can see your reactions properly. 

“No teasing, Tasha, please.” You whine, your hands dropping to her shoulders. “Shh, I’ll give you what you want, sweetheart.” She slowly begins rubbing circles against your clit and you’re all whimpers and whines as she does. 

She takes her time, using her other hand to tug the cups of your bra under your breasts so she can play with your nipples, pinching them and rolling them between her fingers all while keeping the same steady pace in slow circles around your clit. She basks in the noises she’s able to pull from you even with the lightest of touches. She considers taking you to her bedroom so she can fuck you properly, but she think she wants ot save that for another day. This will have to do for now. 

“Inside, please, Tasha.” You whimper pathetically, hands bunched up in her sweater as you try to be good like she wants you to. She takes pity on you when she pushes two fingers into your drooling hole. She curses under her breath, “God, you’re so wet, sweetheart. Is this all for me, huh?”

You nod, desperately wanting her to move her fingers. “All for you, Tasha.” You attempt to bounce up and down on her fingers, but her free hand moves down and holds you still. “Please, I can’t– mph!” You interrupt your own begging when Natasha begins thrusting her fingers in and out, the angle forcing the heel of her palm to press against your clit. You bite down on your bottom lip to stifle your moans, embarrassed about how loud you’re being already. 

“That’s it, baby.” Natasha breathes, taking in the sight in front of her with eager eyes, “You take my fingers so well, sweetheart.” She praises, curling her fingers inside of you. You reward her with a particularly high pitched moan and you just barely notice the pink tint of her cheeks. It seems she's enjoying this just as much as you are. Something about having you like this drives Natasha wild. Being able to hear your moans and see the expression on your face makes her almost lightheaded with desire. 

“Oh God, Natasha.” You moan loudly when she grinds the heel of her palm against your clit and presses against the sensitive spot inside you at the same time. Natasha coos, and it doesn’t take long with her fucking you like that for you to get close to the edge. “Tash– I’m gonna– Please–” You beg, pleading for something you’re not even sure of. 

“Shh, I’ve got you, sweetheart. Be a good girl for Daddy.”

Natasha’s words tip you over the edge with the help of her skilled fingers and she guides you through your orgasm, letting you ride it out before pulling out her fingers and bringing them up to her mouth. 

“Fuck, I don’t know if I’m done with you just yet. I might have to take you to bed instead of taking you to dinner.”

#alice's fics ! #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x fem reader #natasha romanov smut #natasha romanov imagine #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x female #natasha romanov x reader

[just-jordie-things]

the subject of every photo - fushiguro megumi

word count: 5,555 (i'm so proud of that) warnings: swearin' summary: a photoshoot at the pumpkin patch isn't his ideal day, but at least megumi gets to spend time with you. and maybe he'll take a few pictures anyway. (a/n): really delayed pumpkin themed fic with the softest boy but i needed to write this ok a greater power called upon me to do it

___

“It’ll be fun!” Nobara had claimed, although her tone was more threatening than bubbly.  “It’s just a little photoshoot at a pumpkin patch, why so gloomy about it?” 

And it wasn’t that Megumi was gloomy about it, because he wasn’t.  It would be immature to pout about a simple hangout among friends.  The thing was… he just didn’t care for the whole pumpkin patch thing that really seemed to take off on instagram and tiktok these last few years.

He hadn’t carved a pumpkin since he was just a tot, and even then he’d only done it to satisfy Gojo’s bonkers need to participate in every holiday tradition.  He never particularly liked scooping the guts and seeds out, and as a kid wasn’t decent enough with a blade to carve a face that actually looked interesting.  Not to mention, it was always chilly in late October, making it insufferable to wander around outside solely to pick out a big orange vegetable.  

Really, if he wanted a pumpkin that bad, he would’ve picked out a discount one from the grocery store.  But really, he didn’t want a pumpkin.

Nonetheless, Nobara had bought four disposable cameras— which he didn’t know were even still a thing— told everyone to wear their cutest, coziest outfit, and pretty much demanded they all go spend the afternoon at one of the more popular farms in town.  As with most plans, Megumi begrudgingly agreed.

Even under three layers— his coat, his sweater, and the long sleeved tee he wore underneath them both— the crisp air still pricked at his skin and left goosebumps in it’s wake.  It was hard to enjoy being out here when he was fighting the urge to shiver.

“It’s pretty cold for this, huh?” 

Megumi wipes away the resting bitch face he’d been making, opting instead for as much neutrality as he could muster.  He turns to (y/n), only to find her peering up at him from behind her little plastic camera.  His brows wrinkle.

“Don’t take a picture of me at that angle” 

He puts his hand over the lens and pushes it away before she could even think about snapping the photo, and she chuckles a bit at his boyish antics.  He almost cracks a smile when she’s peeking up at him with her cheeks tinged pink from the cold.  He squashes it before his lip could curl too far.

“Well what side do you prefer then?” She teases, shifting around to stand before him and raising her shitty little camera again.  “Full portrait? Or perhaps a side profile?”

Megumi rolls his eyes, but when he starts to walk away, she’s quick to follow.  He doesn’t dislike her company.

Nobara is off farther in the field, ordering Yuuji to pick up as many pumpkins as he can for the perfect picture.  It was only a matter of time before she came over and started barking at the two of them to make the perfect poses as well.

“So why do you hate pumpkin patches?” (y/n) breaks their silence, but when he turns to her again, she’s fixing her camera on a sparrow pecking away at a less than ripe pumpkin.

“I don’t hate pumpkin patches,” He replies, but even he has to admit the dryness in his voice makes it seem a bit unbelievable.  “It’s just…” He glances at her out of the corner of his eye, but he’s quick to straighten his gaze when he finds her full attention on him now.  “Cold” He finishes, lamely, but it’s not untrue.

He fiddles with the plastic camera in his hands.

“Yeah,” (y/n) agrees from beside him.  “Would’ve been nice to do this a few weeks ago, when it was still sunny” 

Megumi nods back at her, unsure of what else to say.

He hoped that they weren’t doomed to only speak about the weather today.  However that meant he’d probably have to put the effort in to change the subject.  His palms began to sweat.

It was their day off, so he didn’t want to strike up a conversation about work, and preferably he’d like to avoid the subject of sorcery altogether.  So that narrowed down the options by a lot.

He knew that like him, she liked to read.  But she was more into the fantasy stuff, and the only book off the top of his head he could make conversation about was The Lion The Witch and The Wardrobe and he was fairly certain that wasn’t currently on her shelf.

Was it always this hard or was he just overthinking it? 

“Wait, stay right there!” 

Before he can suck it up and ask how her most recent assignment went, (y/n’s) throwing her arms up at him to make him freeze in place.  Megumi startles at the sudden movement and holler, but he listens and stays put while she backs up a few steps.

“The sun is peeking out,” She explains, before steadying her camera in front of her face.  “The lighting is great” She says with a grin, and then without warning, she snaps the photo.

Megumi wants to complain, he didn’t even have time to smile or pose or anything.  When that picture got printed, he’d just be a guy standing there, probably with a resting bitch face.  Nobara wouldn’t be happy.

But (y/n’s) still grinning as she lowers the camera.

“Too bad we gotta wait so long to see ‘em,” She says as she heads back towards him.  “It’d be nice to—” 

“Stop moving” 

He’s more blunt than she is, already lifting his camera and peeking through the small lens.  (y/n) gets the hint and retraces her steps to fit properly in the frame.

“Better?” She asks, tossing her hair over her shoulder dramatically before posing with a bright smile.

Megumi snaps the photo without warning, although he’s sure that this one will turn out much better than the one she’d taken of him.  For one, she’s smiling, but he’s also certain that she’s much more photogenic than he is.

She’s at his side again as they wander around the patch, fiddling to fit the camera into the pocket of her coat.  It takes him a few minutes to find his courage again, but eventually Megumi clears his throat and tries to spark conversation.

“Gojo used to take a million pictures of me and Tsumiki” 

That seems to be exactly the right thing to say, because (y/n’s) entire demeanor lights up as she looks up at him with wide eyes.

“Really?” She laughs softly at the mental picture.  “Did he keep, like, photo albums and stuff?” 

“Oh yeah,” Megumi snorted, recalling the rows of photo books on the living room bookshelf when he was young.  “Dozens, at least.  It was like he couldn’t commit a thing to memory, always had to document everything” 

When he was young, it was obnoxious to always have a camera shoved in his face.  Now though, he wonders if the crazy bastard still had those albums.

“That’s sweet,” (y/n) muses, wandering off a bit to check out a display of gourds, all varying in shapes and colors.  “I bet there’s tons of embarrassing ones of you, too” She teases. 

Megumi doesn’t give her an answer, instead silently watching as she picks up a large green vegetable with a curly top.  She holds the long end in her hand, before turning to face Megumi with the plump end out, holding it like it was a very deformed gun.

He rolls his eyes at the joke, but just as she looks away, he snaps a photo.

(y/n) seems to not even notice, setting the gourd back on the display and turning back to Megumi to continue their conversation.

“Was he a scrapbook mom?”

He chuckles, and he wants to deny it, but he can’t.  Even if he tried he thinks she’d see through it with how he smiles with all of his teeth.  She’s laughing before he even explains.

“He made one scrapbook, ever,” He tells her.  “And you have to swear to never tell them this,” He adds quickly.  (y/n) doesn’t have to ask to know who he means, and she simply drags her thumb and forefinger over her lips as if to zip them up.  “It took him weeks.  I think the kitchen table was covered in all of his crafts for a solid month” 

“You’re kidding!” She laughs louder, loving the image of her mentor hunched over a table while he glued down photos and ribbon to pretty sheets of paper.

“I wish I was.  I think it’s why he only ever made one,” Megumi shrugged.  “But it’s… a lot.  Every sheet was three dimensional.  The spine of the scrapbook was stretched so wide the thing couldn’t even sit flat” 

He knows that all of the pictures in that book would be embarrassing now.  Gojo liked to document every first— first day of school, first science project, first A+, along with more ridiculous milestones, like when Megumi chopped all of his hair off in the fifth grade and looked ridiculous.  If he remembered correctly, Gojo glued that hair in the book too, as if it were his baby hairs.  That scrapbook really should be burned, but a part of him wishes he could show her now, just to prove how messy it really is.

“I’d do anything to get my hands on it,” (y/n) sighed, almost as if she could read his mind.  “My parents did some stuff like that, but they certainly weren’t obsessive” 

“Obsession is all he knows” Megumi mumbles, and he doesn’t mean to be funny, but she laughs, and it makes his chest feel warm.

“I still think it’s sweet,” She assures him, and then she stops in their slow and aimless walk, kneeling down to tie the shoelaces on her boot.  Megumi waits beside her.  He cared much more for her company than he did seeing the pumpkin patch.  “He probably just wanted to save lots of memories of you guys when you were little.  All parents say it goes by fast” 

She goes to tie the other boot, and Megumi can only stand there in soft surprise.  Sure, deep down he always considered Gojo his parent, because he simply just was.  But no one else referred to their relationship that way, the others always called him teacher or mentor.  But (y/n) must’ve understood that it was more than that.

He’s pulling his camera out again and stealing another quick picture while she was still focused on her shoes.

When she stands, he’s got the camera tucked back into his pocket and an innocent look on his face.

“Want to take a picture over there?” She asks, pointing to the tower of hay bales set up mostly for photos.  Originally it was for children to climb and play on, but it’s purpose was far more often served as a posing station.

Megumi simply nods, and follows her as she races over the tower.  It shouldn’t have surprised him when she started climbing the thing right away.  Surely Nobara had been over here earlier, striking a pose with one hand on her hip and the other on the stack of hay, but not (y/n), who was almost to the top.

“You’re not gonna fall, right?” Megumi asks unsurely as she’s grabbing at the highest bale.

“I’m a trained athlete!” She shrieks back, clearly offended.

“I’m more worried about you destroying the play area” Megumi retorted, his lip curling upwards against his will.  He can’t help but take a picture before she’s settled.  Her hair’s a mess and her limbs are everywhere as she tries to steady herself on the wobbling tower, but it’s a perfect picture nonetheless.

“This is great!” She shouts back at him, before stretching her hands above her head.  “Take my photo like this!” 

It’s silly, it’s childish, but Megumi’s laughing to himself as he snaps a couple.

Somehow she manages to climb down without toppling the entire thing, and they quickly make their way across the pumpkin patch before an employee could scold them for being grown adults playing on the children’s setup.

Megumi finds it easier to talk with her the longer they walk around, aimlessly eyeing pumpkins without committing to picking any out, taking photos here and there, but mostly they just wander around and talk.  Yuji and Nobara seem so wrapped up in the full on photoshoot they were having with each other that it could seem like they’d completely forgotten the other pair, but Megumi didn’t mind one bit.

Hang outs never turned out like this.  Nobara tended to cling to (y/n) like a lifeline.  She was always dragging her off to the next boutique on the strip or game in the arcade or exhibit at the museum— wherever they went, it seemed as soon as Megumi would get a minute of alone time with her, Nobara would steal her away.  It was deflating, but he couldn’t be mad, they were best friends after all.

Today was like a gloomy day miracle.  He almost felt spoiled having the last half hour with her all to himself.  All of her laughter and smiles were only for him.  It warmed up his chilled hands until soon, even the breeze wouldn’t make him shiver.

(y/n) didn’t appear to have the same effect, shaking like a leaf every time the wind picked up.  She always shrank into the collar of her coat and shoved her hands into her pockets, and after a few times, Megumi couldn’t stand to see her freezing.

“Let’s go inside for a bit,” He nodded his head towards the small shop.  (y/n) pouted back at him, before glancing around the pumpkin patch, clearly looking for their friends.  “They won’t be upset that we went inside because we’re cold,” Megumi chuckles to himself, before gently pushing his hand against the small of her back so that he’d follow her.  “I’ll text Itadori” He adds for good measure.

After a moment of hesitation she agreed and walked along with him, but just slow enough that he left his hand on her lower back.  Just because it was nice to be so close to him.

Stepping into the shop was an instant rush of fresh warm air, and she finally felt like she could stretch her fingers.  There was a small bakery inside with only a couple of tables, but without anyone else inside it was perfectly quaint to warm up in.

“I’m going to order a hot chocolate, do you want anything?”

The offer was sweet, but she’s already making her way to the counter, set on a mission as soon as the alluring smell of apples and cinnamon wafted past her nose.

“I could go for a coffee” Megumi hummed as he followed.

He’s ordering for the both of them as soon as a clerk arrives behind the counter, two drinks along with the enormous bear claw in the glass case that (y/n) hadn’t torn her eyes away from since stepping up to the counter.  She tries to fight him when he pulls out his wallet but he’s faster at tapping his card to the reader than she is at hitting him.

Even once they sit down with their drinks and the pastry that takes up most of the table space between them, she argues with him about the payment, and all he can do is shake his head— and maybe smile to himself just a little bit.  After realizing arguing is futile, she decides that as long as he eats some of the bear claw, she can forgive him.

And they continue to chat, about dumb things, about nothing, about everything.  Megumi learns all about the book series that she is reading, along with her plans for getting promoted faster, and that her dream pet is a sugar glider.

“That’s ridiculous,” He mumbles through a mouthful of almond paste and cinnamon.  “When would you ever have the time to take care of something like that?”

“That’s why it’s a dream pet, dummy,” (y/n) rolls her eyes at him.  “Doesn’t have to be realistic.  Don’t you have a dream pet?” 

“I kinda already have a lot of pets” 

“Oh, right,” She laughs to herself, and he thinks he can see a hint of a blush dusting over her cheeks.  Was she embarrassed? He wasn’t sure exactly.  But it was really cute.  “Well if there’s ever a sugar glider shikigami, please summon it for me” She tells him in all seriousness, and Megumi bites his tongue as he agrees to the condition immediately.

He pulls out his camera for the tenth time that day and rests his elbows on the table as he brings it to his face.  (y/n’s) eyes widen before she’s covering half her face with one hand.

“Are you taking a picture of me right now?” She hisses anxiously, before shaking her head at him.

“Duh” He mutters out as he tilts forward and back, trying to find just the right angle of lighting.

“I’m eating—” 

“So? Not like you have food on your face.  Hush.  Go back to eating or something” 

“I am not letting you take a picture of me while I eat” 

“Alright then just sit there then” 

She’s grabbing her paper cup of hot cocoa to use as a shield, but it’s too late.  Megumi clicks the button and she can hear the soft whirring coming from inside the camera.

The lens cuts to black and Megumi pulls the camera away, eyeing the little roll of numbers next to the lens.

“I’m out already,” He says, tossing it onto the table.  “Guess I win” 

(y/n) laughs to herself.

“I didn’t know this was a competition,” She takes a sip of her warm beverage before setting it back down.  “But I can’t believe you finished before me”

“How many do you have left?” 

Curiously, (y/n) pulls the camera out of her pocket and eyes the tape with the amount of film left.  She frowns as she looks back up at him.

“Just one,” She answers, and her frown tilts into a small, soft smile before she asks, “Do you want to take one together?” 

___

Greedily, Nobara snatches the stack of freshly printed photos out of Megumi’s hands.  (y/n) and Yuji are too busy sharing theirs with each other, and Nobara had been dying to know what photos Megumi and (y/n) had taken on their last outing.  By the time the group had met up and gone home, their cameras were already full, and she knew she hadn’t been the subject of a single one of them.

“I swear Fushiguro if these are all dumb pictures of pumpkins, I’ll—” 

But her threat falls short after sliding through the first three pictures.

The first was (y/n) on the path, just standing and smiling.  It wasn’t special, there wasn’t even a pumpkin in the background, but it was cute.

The second was a picture of her crouched down and tying her shoe.  Her face wasn’t even in the picture, her hair was hanging in front of it, but if you squinted you could barely make out the tip of her nose.

Then the third was another candid, where she was pretending to hold a gourd like a gun.

“What the—?” 

Nobara flips through to the next one in the stack, and yet again there’s a candid of her climbing up the side of a hay bale tower.  At least that one captured her smile.  She shouldn’t have been surprised to see the fifth one in the stack was also of (y/n), this time sitting on top of the haystack victoriously

“You’ve got to be kidding me, dude” 

“Okay give them back—!” Megumi tries to grab the stack of pictures from Nobara before she could keep being nosey, but she deflects fast, swiveling to turn away from him and keep skipping through the photos.

He shouldn’t have let her get her hands on them to begin with, but it was too late now.  If he caused too big of a scene, Yuji and (y/n) would notice.  He didn’t exactly want all of his pictures on display.

So Nobara kept flipping.

One was of her lifting up the tiniest of pumpkins— definitely the runt of the whole patch.  It fit in the palm of her hand but she seemed delighted by it.

The next few were just of her walking around, nothing too exciting in the frame.  Just the occasional pumpkin in the background.

There was a decent one taken from inside the shop.  (y/n) was still in the frame but her back was turned as she eyed the glass case of sweets.  Nobara could almost let Megumi off the hook for that one.  Almost.

And then the last photo was of her laughing, the blurry image of a paper cup waving in the space beside her face.  Her eyes are on the camera, so she must’ve known he was taking that picture, but judging by the surprise in her expression, it was easy to conclude she was trying to hide behind that cup.

Once she’d ogled every picture, Nobara finally turned back to Megumi.  Her brows twitched and furrowed, lips parted in shock, not a single word spoken as she handed the stack back to him.  It’s practically shoved towards him, but he doesn’t complain, just snatches them back as fast as he can.

He wants to find a way to quickly and discreetly ask her to keep this to herself, but before he can find the words, she’s gawking at him again.

“Every single one?” Nobara asks in a mutter.

“We hung out the whole time, okay? It's not like—” Megumi tries to defend himself, but it’s no use.  Nobara’s already speaking over him again.

“It’s almost pathetic, dude.  Just ask her out like a normal person” 

His brows almost raise to his hairline in shock.  Here he thought she was about to call him out for being a creep or something.  But no, her disgust only lied in his pathetic pining and lack of action.  Maybe he should have assumed that already.

He doesn’t get the chance to say anything before Nobara’s marching over to Yuji and demanding to see his photos as well.  Megumi’s left reeling from the whole interaction, the humiliation still lingering in his gut.

The feeling remains as (y/n) makes her way to him, her own fresh stack of photos in her hands.  There’s a nervous sort of smile on her face as she glances back at Yuji and Nobara, double checking that they were out of earshot.

“They took that pretty seriously, huh?” Her voice was still low, careful not to draw the attention of their rambunctious friends.  “Yuji takes great photos, don’t get me wrong.  But I think she should pay him for his time” 

There’s some relief in his chest when he cracks a smile, a small laugh coming out.  He could only imagine the quality of Nobara and Yuji’s photos, certainly prepped for instagram.

“I bet she still puts filters over all of them” He mutters back, and (y/n) stifles a giggle behind her hand, but nods her head in agreement.

“Can we leave now or what?” Nobara calls out, already dragging Yuji by the arm to leave the store.  “I want to get boba before home” 

“Boba sounds good,” (y/n) agrees softly.  “Let’s go” 

As the red head continued to drag her friend despite him arguing that he was an adult who could walk by himself, she turned and aggressively whispered something to him.  After her obvious threatening, she glances back at (y/n) and Megumi, which Yuji promptly follows her pointed glance.  Suddenly after that he was upright and speed walking along with her.

(y/n) and Megumi share a baffled look as their friends so blatantly ditch them, but they don’t exactly pick up the pace to follow.

“So, did you get good photos?” Megumi asks, tucking his own away in his pocket.  Foolishly, he hoped if they were out of sight she wouldn’t ask him about them.

“Oh,” (y/n) chuckles nervously, holding her stack of pictures in both hands.  She tilts them towards herself so he can’t see, and Megumi raises a brow at the secrecy.  “It’s kind of embarrassing, actually” She says sheepishly.

Her cheeks flood with color, and Megumi can’t help the curious grin that begins to stretch across his face.

“Embarrassing?” He repeats, sounding horrifically hopeful.  (y/n) sighs, and sticks her arm out, handing him the stack.  He’s quick to take them and start flipping through, eyeing her anxious demeanor in his peripheral vision.

“Yuji’s probably going to tell you anyway.  But… they’re sort of all..” 

His steps slow further after quickly sliding through the bunch of pictures.

The first was at the entrance of the pumpkin patch, with the cute sign with the family name painted on it, and just under it was him.  He wasn’t paying attention, and quite frankly he looked rather bored standing there.  She must’ve taken it while he was still pouting about having to go.

The next photo was of the sparrow poking at the rotted pumpkin, and he had to admit the way she captured it actually was sort of cute.

The third was the photo Megumi dreaded seeing.  He recognized it as soon as he saw himself standing on the thin path of dirt.  He grimaced as he looked closer to see just how bad it was.  But to his surprise, he wasn’t scowling like he thought he’d been.  He was actually smiling.  

Which was odd… he certainly didn’t remember smiling for that picture.  He clearly remembered being upset because he hadn’t tried to look nice for her picture at all.

He glances at (y/n) to gauge her reaction so far, but she was holding her expression at a neutral state, waiting for him to react first.

So Megumi goes back to the photos, and flips to the next one.  Which was… also him.  It wasn’t anything special, just him standing there, but he was smiling a little bit in that one, too.

When the following is also a candid of him with that dumb little smile, he glances over at (y/n) again, raising a brow at her in silent question.

She’s a tough one to crack, but the corner of her lips gives her away as she tries to bite back a smile.  His own smile is unable to be hidden as he flips through a few more photos.

And to his shock and delight, they’re all him.  Him while he was picking up that big pumpkin she dared him to, him while he was drinking his coffee and not paying attention, him just standing and doing nothing in particular, but for whatever reason, she’d used up all her film on capturing it.  

His favorite is the one of the both of them.  She’d given him the camera so he could stretch his arm out and snap the photo selfie style.  They’re sitting at the small table, two paper cups and the enormous bear claw between them, but pushed aside as (y/n) leans across the tabletop in order to better center herself.  She’s grinning from ear to ear, her chin set in one hand while the other holds up a peace sign.  Megumi’s smile isn’t as wide but nevertheless it’s genuine, and anyone looking at the picture would know.  It’s a great picture of the two of them, and he thinks it’s probably the first, too. 

Megumi hadn’t realized he’d gone through the whole stack till he flips to the next one and is met with the first photo, but once he does, (y/n’s) quick to reach out and take them back.  She doesn’t snatch them as aggressively as Nobara had, she handles them gently, careful not to leave an ugly smudge or crease.

Megumi watches with eager intrigue as she tucks the edges together neatly, making the stack smooth in her hands.

“Sorry if that’s creepy— is that creepy?” She turns to him suddenly, full of worry that she’d crossed a line, but Megumi just chuckles, and shakes his head at her.

“Not creepy” He muses, his soft smile remaining as he dips his hand into his pocket, retrieving his own small collection of photos.

He stares at them for an indecisive minute, clenching and unclenching his jaw, working up the courage to make the smallest of gestures.  When he does hold them out to her, he still doesn’t say a thing.  His throat is too dry and hot to even try.  He thinks it would be worse if his voice cracked right now.

(y/n) smiles as she tucks her pictures away in her purse with great care so that she could better look through the pictures he’d taken.  His face flushes with color when she finally takes them from him.  Even the small brush of the tips of her fingers against his has Megumi’s breath catching in his throat.

And he holds his breath as she eagerly slides through the stack of photos.  His throat is far too constricted now to show any sign of life.  He very well could pass out at any moment.  He just hopes she’d leave him there in a heap on the ground.

The relief of the exhale doesn’t come until she begins to giggle.  It’s soft at first, almost under her breath as she continues admiring his photos, but then it erupts into something brilliant and bubbly, as if it was coming out of her uncontrollably.  As lovely as the reaction was, it didn’t do much to ease Megumi’s nerves.  They began to sink their teeth into his heart and gut, and he knew that any minute now, his knees would give out.

When her laughter calms down and she finally looks up at him, the surprise is evident on his features when he sees her colored cheeks and nervous smile.  She hands the stack back to him, and Megumi’s quick to tuck them into his pocket, where maybe he they’d disappear forever, or at least just from the front of their minds.

“That’s pretty cute, huh?” She asks, an aftershock of quiet laughter shaking her shoulders and crinkling the corners of her eyes.  This time, Megumi can’t help the way he laughs with her, but he does duck his head bashfully.

(y/n) thinks it’s all the more cuter, how he resorts to his nervous habit of rubbing the back of his neck and looking anywhere but directly at her.  She wonders if he even knows he’s doing it.  With a surge of confidence, she rocks on her feet.

“Wanna ditch our friends and get lunch or something?” 

He shrugs and nods, thinking anything would be better sustenance than the too-sugary drinks that Nobara had an addiction to.  But the implication of the question dawns on him too late, and suddenly his eyes are widening as he realizes what she really meant.

“You mean— like, a date?” 

It’s so damn cute the way his brows furrow and then raise ever so slightly, waiting without a single ounce of patience for her clarification.  (y/n’s) giggling again as she nods her head, putting him out of his misery.

“Yeah, like a date,” She repeats teasingly.

Megumi nods his head again, this time faster, as if there was a time limit to her offer and he was worried he’d already wasted too much of it.  Her smile brightens and there’s a small but noticeable skip in her step as they head off in a new direction together.

“Now maybe it won’t be so creepy when our friends see those pictures” She says, and Megumi can’t decipher if she’s messing with him or not.  The look he gives her barely hides his panic.

“They’re gonna see them?”

“What do you think they’re talking about right now?” (y/n) retorts, knowing for a fact that Yuji and Nobara were gossiping away about the pair’s photos that consisted only of each other.  

The thought makes Megumi’s face feel hot, and there’s no discretion in the way he tugs at his collar.  The idea makes him nervous, his stomach flipping excessively.  That said, he knew with the amount of gossip those two chatterboxes would generate, there was plenty of time to add a date to today’s agenda.

“They probably won’t even notice we’re gone”

(y/n) nods in agreement.

“They’ll be grateful to have the time for girl talk,” She teases.

With purpose, she steps closer to him so she could link her arm around his, tucking her hand into the crook of his elbow and shyly smiling up at him.  Megumi returns the smile, his arm hooking a little further to keep her tucked next to him as close as he wanted.  It was another chilly day outside, but he could almost forget about it with the way her closeness sparked warmth in his chest that flooded throughout his whole body.  He hoped he’d get to do this for the rest of their day—

“So… where do we want to go?”

—and more days to come. ___

xoxo ~ jordie

#fushiguro megumi #fushiguro megumi x reader #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #fushiguro megumi imagine #fushiguro megumi x reader fluff #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader fluff #jjk imagine #jujutsu kaisen imagine #megumi brainrot

[eumivrse]

warning(s) pure angst, jjk chapter 120 SPOILERS

arguments with kento are always the worst.

you’ve learned over the years that you’d probably prefer it if he would just scream back when he’s mad rather than being dead silent.

because when he’s angry, he doesn’t speak. he just gives you space to cool off, then he always makes sure to kiss you before you sleep. a way to let you know that tomorrow is a new day and he still loves you the same even if things are heated; that you can always talk it out with him.

you hate it because he always, always apologizes first even if it’s your fault sometimes, but you always appreciated his way of communicating. it’s as if he would rather take the jab every time than have you mad at him.

however, he couldn’t do so that day— october 31, 2018. he had to go to shibuya and left with tension between the two of you. you don’t even remember what exactly you argued about— all you recall was that it ended with you both saying something that could’ve easily passed as unforgivable, words specifically chosen to wound each other’s feelings.

and as per, kento gave you your space and left with you having the last word.

except you never got that good night’s kiss.

when news reached you, you didn’t even react. how could you? the last words you said to him was “then leave already,” with the coldest, meanest tone you’ve ever spoken to him in.

you just stared at the wall for what seemed like days. people were calling you non stop, but your phone was turned off. you hadn’t even left your shared bedroom. the comforter still had his scent on it and you’re afraid that it’ll disappear if you get up for even a minute and then his passing will feel real.

it wasn’t until ino stopped by to drop off his cellphone— one of the only traces he left that night— that you did something else besides laying down. you stared at kento’s scuffed lock screen, sitting at the dim dining room table.

his wallpaper was a photo of you. he took it while you were eating in the very place you’re sitting in right now and you begged him for days to delete it. he insisted that you looked pretty so you let him be. he’d always been like that, so stern with others but he had such a soft spot for you.

you knew his password because it was your anniversary date, then the messaging app opened as soon as you punched the numbers in. it’s your chat, the last conversation you had on there was him asking if you wanted to eat outside because he was free the next morning and you obliged. that was the night before you had an argument the next day and lunch plans were cancelled.

he had an unsent message— all typed out, but he never pressed the send button for some reason.

he was apologizing for hurting you.

he said that he knows it’s been tough for you these days and how he should’ve seen the signs sooner instead of thinking everything’s okay.

then he apologized again for not being able to kiss you goodnight, and for being a shitty husband that couldn’t tend to his wife’s needs.

the message concluded with “i miss you, my precious girl. make sure to eat and sleep well, i’ll make it up to you soon.”

kento’s death hadn’t hit your reality until those words on the screen registered in your mind. your dry, pale lips from barely drinking water trembled, eyes welled up in tears for the first time since you found out. so many different emotions crashed over you in such little time, your chest felt tight and you let go of his phone, clattering onto the wooden table.

“then leave already,” replayed in your mind over and over and the way his face turned pale from your harsh words. with how things turned out, it almost sounded like you were sending him on death’s row and it made you feel like you’re responsible somehow.

guilt loomed over you like a stormy cloud for making him feel like he wasn’t good enough for you and you wonder how different the future might’ve turned out if you’ve at least gave him a hug before he left.

if you could’ve just set your pride aside and kissed him goodbye like he does with you before you sleep.

and if he still loved you the same at his final moments.

#yikes #why am i feeling guilty lolol #mentally preparing myself when it gets animated #might not be accurate to the plot but tbh idc #nanami kento #nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk angst #nanami angst #kento nanami #nanami kento angst

[chrisevansonly]

𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌𝒔𝒈𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒄𝒓𝒂𝒛𝒚 | 𝒐𝒔𝒄𝒂𝒓 𝒑𝒊𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒊

☁︎ oscar piastri x female reader

☁︎ oscar is experiencing thanksgiving with your family for the first time….and boy is it crazy

☁︎ no warnings just fluff and maybe a tad overwhelmed oscar lol

☁︎ i can’t believe october is starting to come to an end, these little fall fics have been making me so happy, i think ill do another one in december too to get ready for christmas 🤭 p.s thanksgiving in canada is beginning of october in contrast to the USA which is end of november in case you’re confused :)

Thanksgiving was a little chaotic in your family, when everyone gathered together and all sat down for the annual fall meal, only this year it was your boyfriend Oscar’s first time attending it with you. He knew you got your vibrant and extroverted personality from your parents, but now that he looks back on it, he’s pretty sure your entire family played a part in it.

“Oscar when do you and my little sunshine plan on having children hmm?” your grandma asked, causing you to choke on your water

“Nana!”

Oscar laughed patting your back gently to help with your coughing

“I think whenever the time is right, we’re in no rush”

“Well you’re only getting older!”

You shook your head at the old woman’s antics your mother stepping in before you

“Mom, leave these two alone, they’re both still in their early twenties, no babies for them, eat your turkey”

“Never too early to have a baby, such nonsense!”

Leaning over to Oscar you looked at him apologetically

“I’m sorry, she’s very persistent”

He only smiled, kissing your forehead as he squeezed your knee under the table

“I don’t mind at all, it’ll happen someday anyway”

The two of you may have been young but you both knew that you were endgame for each other, there was no one else on earth more perfect for either of you, and everyone was starting to see that.

“So Oscar, i’ve been watching your season, looks pretty good this year”

It was your father’s time to chime in, Oscar nodding as he gave your father 100% of his attention.

“Yes, it’s been going really well, the car feels good this year, so i’m looking forward to finishing the next few races and then having some time off” he replied, a bit hesitantly as he always did with your dad

“That’s good to hear, I’d love to come see a race sometime”

You smiled

“You should come to Las Vegas with us dad! You and mom have been wanting to go back there so why not?”

In hindsight you should have asked Oscar first if he was okay with this, but knowing him, he wouldn’t mind at all. He loved spending time with your family as much as you did with his.

“Oh that’s a great idea honey, i’m sure we can figure something out!”

The rest of dinner went off without a hitch, calm conversation and laughter shared between everyone, you could already feel the classic thanksgiving hangover hitting you as you lounged on the couch tucked into Oscar’s side, your eyes heavy and tired.

“NO YOU JUST SLAPPED ME WITH ANOTHER PICK UP UP 4 IM GONNA KILL YOU!!!”

Oscar laughed hearing your little cousins playing uno in the other room as you rolled your eyes. If anyone was the loudest on these holidays it was the kiddos.

“YEAH WELL YOU JUST SUCK AT THE GAME THEN!”

It wasn’t long before your aunt went in there and told them off, quiet chatter resuming after the mini scream fest over the classical card game had ensued. Truth be told you were nervous for Oscar to experience thanksgiving with your family because you weren’t always put together and fancy, you were loud and energetic, your family loved playing games, having treasure hunts and playing games of charades.

You knew deep down it wouldn’t everyone’s cup of tea but Oscar wouldn’t have it any other way. He’d never felt more comfortable and at home like he did with you when you visited your family. It made him feel normal and accepted, he didn’t have to worry about the media, the race track or the constant murmurs going around the paddock.

“How was your first thanksgiving experience love?”

He smiled down at you, his finger tips running up and down your back

“I loved it, really it was so much, I can’t wait to keep experiencing this craziness with you”

“Oscar loves the thanksgiving craziness…never thought i’d say that”

The Aussie laughed leaning down to kiss you

“Well now I get to experience a different craziness from yours everyday”

“Hey!”

You frowned jokingly but he was quick to once again bring his lips to yours, deepening the kiss enough to have your face flush, thankfully your family too enamoured in their own activities to notice your little display of affection.

“I love you and all your craziness darling, it’s what makes you, you.” he stated softly, taking his time to admire you

“I love you more.”

Oscar had all he needed right in front of him, he’d never felt more welcomed and appreciated than he did right now, curled up on the couch at your parents house after a delicious dinner, something he would continue to be apart of for years…and years to come.

#rueswrites #ruesanswers #ruesanons<3 #ruesasks #oscar piastri x y/n #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri drabble #formula 1 masterlist #formula 1 fanfiction #formula 1 fanfic #oscar piastri f1 #f1 drabble #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine

[moonhoures]

All Of Me

🕷️ kinktober — day 7: breeding kink / creampie 🕸️

pairing: jooheon (monsta x) + reader (afab/fem)

genre: idol!au, mild angst, fluff, smut

warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, explicit smut, established relationship, unprotected sex, creampie, mention of pregnancy (but no actual pregnancy), mention of joo’s military enlistment

word count: ~2.1k

synopsis: you and your idol bf tenderly enjoy one more night together before his enlistment

a/n: dedicating this to my fav jooheon stan @carronpatrick 💕 hope you enjoy it 🫂 also, there’s not much of a breeding kink aspect to this, i’ve realized, so i removed that from the tagline 🙃

posted: october 7, 2023

kinktober masterlist

So here it was. The day you had been dreading ever since you and Jooheon first started dating. On top of dealing with the hardships of dating an idol—a very successful and famous one at that—you also had to deal with his leaving for military service. He reminded you of it every once in a while, and for the longest time it felt so far away. But now the day had arrived on your doorstep with no remorse, no empathy.

“Don’t look so sad,” your boyfriend tried to lighten the mood as you two sat at the edge of your bed. He had come over to spend the night with you and pick up some of his things from your apartment. He was set to leave for his enlistment two days from now, so this was the last day you had him all to yourself until he would go, “Eighteen months will pass faster than you think. And it’s not like we won’t be able to see or talk to each other.”

“I know,” you put all your energy into speaking with no sign of distress, but your voice betrayed you with a wobble. Jooheon frowned a little, resting his arm around your shoulders as you started to sniffle and tears pricked at your eyes.

“I’ll talk to you as often as I can. That’s a promise. You remember I made you that promise the first year we dated,” he reminded you of that night. Of course, the memory was engrained in your mind like a movie you had just seen yesterday—most of your memories with him were. You recalled you two sitting on the couch, sipping on some beer and eating take-out. He had just finished a media run for Monsta X’s most recent comeback, and he had finally got a night off to spend with you. The topic of his enlistment came up and brought down the mood, but somehow Jooheon always knew what to say to make you feel better.

“_________, I promise, on everything I own and love, that during my enlistment I will use any means and any time I have to talk to you, first and foremost,” even a little tipsy, with his hands jokingly on his chest and in the air (respectively), he managed to say those words so sincerely. You had no choice but to trust his words back then. And even now, you trusted him with everything you had.

“I feel so dumb for crying. It’s not like you’re leaving forever,” you wiped your eyes with the back of your hands, and the smallest smile finally cracked your lips when his laugh sounded from beside you.

“Exactly,” he said, “I’ll be back sooner than you think. And I’ll be sure to set aside lots of time just for us. Just for you,” he corrected himself, pressing a kiss to your head. When you looked up at him, his eyes softened at the redness and teariness in your own. His hand reached up to hold your chin still while he leaned down to give you a tender kiss.

It was a wonder that Jooheon always knew what to say in every situation, but especially without saying anything at all. It was like he spoke with his body language too. Because the kiss he gave you then seemed to whisper it’ll be okay. His other hand holding your waist assured you i’ll always be here when you need me, even if i’m not physically here. The way he rested his forehead against yours after pulling away said i’ll always be yours.

“When you get back-” you started speaking tentatively, and to your surprise, your words came out more confident than before, “-we’re not leaving this bed for a few days, at least. You understand?”

His brows raised and his dimples made an appearance as he chuckled. He nodded, biting his lip subtly before replying, “I was already planning on that. Make sure you have the condoms stocked when I get back.”

As he leaned in for another kiss, your hands were holding onto the fabric of his shirt, feebly attempting to keep him closer, “But I wanna feel you when you get back. Not latex.”

You tried not to smirk against his lips when you felt a low rumble from his chest into his throat.

“Fuck, don’t get me started, _______,” he whined, his hand already going back to your face. His fingers caressed your jaw as his eyes traced between your eyes and lips. Everything in him was begging to have you in that moment.

“Come on, Joo. One more time before you go?” you breathed out against his cheek in between the kisses you pressed to it.

You could feel his breathing getting heavier, and one glance at his lap let you know he was at least considering it. You tested the waters by leaning down and kissing under his jaw, his weak spot. You hummed, “Please.”

Your boyfriend merely groaned in response before he was taking your face in his hands, bringing your lips to his in an abrupt, smashing kiss. He took control easily, you always melted into putty in his hands. You molded to him in any way he manipulated you. He had eased you onto your back, your thighs at the edge of the bed as he continued to make out with you fervently.

Despite how tender and careful he was in his touches, there was an underlying, waiting sense of ferociousness. Like he was waiting for the perfect moment to unleash on you. And you couldn’t wait for the moment to come. You tried to coax it from him, using your fingers to grip at his back. You urged him closer with the rocking of your hips, with the nudging of your feet against his ass. He simply chuckled at your attempts, finding you cute when you were so desperate for him.

He whispered sweet nothings to you as you both discarded your clothing, utters of how beautiful you looked. How good you would feel. How he already couldn’t wait to come back even though he hadn’t left yet. Before the sadness could settle in you again, you were moaning at the feeling of his bare cock resting over your pelvis. His lips peppered kisses all over your chest as his hand pumped his erection in preparation for you. He smiled to himself when you started to move your hips up, quietly exhorting him to fuck you.

“Are the condoms still in the drawer?” he asked you, starting to peel himself away so he could go get them.

You stopped him, hands holding onto his biceps for dear life, “We don’t need to use them. If this is the last time we do this before you go, I want to feel you, Jooheon. Just you.”

Your boyfriend’s dick twitched, and he leaned back down to capture your lips again. He was so whipped for you. His heart skipped a beat when he felt your body pressed up against his. When he heard the sounds you made for him. When he felt how wet you were already. His fingertips swiped up your slit, and he relished in the airy moans you let out before he circled your clit.

“I can’t wait to feel you wrapped around me,” he said, watching your resolve crumble beneath his touch, “It’s been so long since we did it raw.”

It was; over a year, in fact. And it nearly didn’t happen at all. The two of you were getting hot and heavy in his car one day on a road trip, and had gotten to the best part before realizing neither of you had a condom on you. After a minute of panic, you decided to say fuck it and went through with your actions anyway. But you lived in anxiety afterwards. You weren’t really nervous about getting pregnant with Jooheon’s kid, though being pregnant at all did make your stomach sink. But you were more so nervous about tarnishing Jooheon’s career and/or reputation. You wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if you were the cause of such turmoil. Luckily, you didn’t fall pregnant, but you two swore not to do it with condom again until you were both sure that’s what you wanted to do. Now just felt right.

“I want to feel you,” you repeated eagerly, getting impatient. You could feel him lining up at your entrance, his hand still stroking his erection.

“You’ll feel me, baby. All of me.”

Boy, did you. You sucked in a breath as he sunk between your folds, filling you to the brim with his thick length. You watched his face screw up with a disgruntled expression as he felt your tight walls constrict him. He forgot how good you felt like this.

“Holy shit,” he grunted.

You smiled, urging him to start thrusting by pulling on his waist with your hands. Your nails lightly dug into his skin. He hissed while he pulled out, barely keeping his tip in before thrusting back into you slowly. His hips bucked into yours in a growing rhythm. Heavy breaths and the sounds of wet kissing surrounded you two. It was like the two of you made lustful music when you made love. That’s what it always was with him. “Fucking” didn’t sound right to Jooheon. If he was going to have sex with you, he was going to pour in every ounce of his love and appreciation for you that he could muster.

He drilled into you, but his lips were soft and smooth in the way they touched your body, wherever they could reach. He made sure to tell you how good you made him feel and how well you took him. Little did you know that it was mostly because he could feel the effect it had on you. Every touch, every kiss, every word had your insides fluttering, your pussy clenching on him as if he would disappear if you didn’t. In a way, he was going to disappear, you supposed.

“I’m going to miss you so much,” you pouted, feeling that sinking sensation in your stomach as you felt tears welling up in your eyes again.

Jooheon’s hips faltered as he made eye contact with you. His orbs began to mirror yours briefly before he pulled himself together. He continued to thrust into you, softer than before, “I’ll miss you so much more, trust me. I’m gonna think about you every second of every day. Gonna count down the minutes until I can see you again.”

“Joo,” you moaned as you felt your climax building in your lower belly. Your leg muscles were tensing up from the impending sensation.

“Baby,” he whimpered, on the brink of his own release. This was the only bad part of not using a condom; you felt too good. There was no way in hell he could last as long as he usually did. All he could do was hope that you would want round two, and maybe a round three, or four . . .

“Want you to cum inside.”

“I will,” he nodded, eyelids closing tight as he shuddered. He was so close, “Gonna take it all?”

“Mhm,” you hugged around his shoulders, drawing him close until his forehead was on yours. He pressed a haphazard kiss to your nose out of passion, and you chuckled softly.

“Fuc-“ he couldn’t even finish before he was cumming, painting your core. He shook under your touch, his strength wavering under the weight of his orgasm. “Holy shit, that feels so good. You feel so good. I wish you could feel this the way I do.”

Your head was spinning from the way he talked you through it. You could only moan out his name as you came after him, his warmth filling you up sending you over the edge, “Oh my God.”

“That’s it,” he kissed your neck, then he leaned down to hug you properly. It felt oddly nice having his body weight on you, like a comforting blanket.

You would miss this. Not just the love-making, but all of it. Him. You would miss him. It was hard enough being away from him most days due to his job, but having him be unavailable for long periods of time was going to be a form of hell. All you wanted to do was have him like this all the time. All to yourself. You wanted to be able to kiss him and hold him whenever you felt like it. You didn’t want to worry about him up and leaving at any time for any reason. You wanted to have him completely. Was it still selfishness if it was out of pure, uncontainable love?

“Eighteen months,” you didn’t realize you had said it out loud until Jooheon pulled away to regard you with a crestfallen nod.

“Eighteen months,” he confirmed. You prayed that it would be the fastest year and six months of your life.

— taglist #1

@jaylaxies @xiaoting999 @kookthief @zaddywilk @wonrangwoo @pedriswrld @ikykleeknowww @abby-grace @odisdad @jungwonloveer @pinklemonadeflav @celestialplatinum @luvkpopp @nlklstan @kisses4denji @jenos-eye-smiles @a-l-i-y-a @channiesprincess @bekah931215 @heerinnie @fairygirl18 @cinnikoi @im-ur-calico-cat @unlikelysublimekryptonite

#monsta x smut #jooheon smut #monsta x fanfic #monsta x imagines #monsta x scenarios #monsta x x reader #monsta x x y/n #jooheon fanfic #jooheon imagines #jooheon scenarios #jooheon x reader #jooheon x y/n #lee jooheon smut #mx smut #[🕷️] kinktober 23

[hrtsdevils]

you made me love the number forty-three | fall to me au

summary: a close-knit bond is formed between luke hughes and y/n l/n throughout the years. they have their ups and downs, but they’ll always be there for one another.

pairing: platonic luke hughes x family friend!reader

wc: 1564

warnings: fuck ass bob

a/n this is based off of abby by gracie abrams, and it’s very dear to my heart! pretend that luke wasn’t committed to umich 2 years before he graduated… for the plot! sorry jack’s kind of a meanie, i love him!!! i swear!! it just fits w the lyrics <3 enjoy and thanks for reading!

tell me your secrets, ask every question. my door is open twenty-four/seven. think you were made from something in heaven. you made me love the number eleven forty-three.

october 2008-september 2010

Your family had known the Hughes family for as long as you could remember. Your mother had played soccer at the University of New Hampshire with Ellen, and she was the first person to cheer her on once hockey season started. This allowed them to form a close bond over their four years of eligibility. The Hughes family travelled a bit around the country due to the careers of Ellen and Jim, but as soon as they settled in Toronto with their seven, five, and three-year-old sons, your mother followed suit with five-year-old you and your eight-year-old older brother.

The older two boys in each family started hockey, and Jack was soon to follow. This left you and little Luke to hang out in the care of Ellen, and occasionally your mom. At first, you loved him, he was like your personal baby doll that you could drag around, dress up, and have tea parties with. Luke didn’t usually object, except for that one incident where you tried to make him wear “clip-clops”, as you called them, to which he had a temper tantrum about the sheer idea of putting them on his feet.

As you grew older, Luke wanted less to do with you and your girly things and more to do with hockey, along with whatever else the boys were doing. Although normal of him, you still felt betrayed. What can you say; you were seven years old. To try and make you fit in, Luke took craft scissors to your long, wavy hair and cut it to look like the boys. Maybe you’d have looked better if you had a pixie cut done by a professional salon, however, he was slightly less than and you came out with the same shaggy haircut as the five-year-old. You ran to your mom immediately, about to cry of embarrassment.

“Mommy, something bad happened!” You screeched, interrupting her conversation with Ellen and catching the attention of the three boys.

Covering her mouth slightly, Ellen was the first to speak, “Oh, sweetie.. what happened?” She reached out to touch your now chin-length locks and brushed a few stray longer hairs out of your eyes.

“Luke cut it, so I could play hockey with them.” You gesture towards the boys, “And now I... I look like him!” You exclaimed out of horror, finally realizing the drastic nature of your actions.

You started to tear up before your mother cut in, “Baby, you both look adorable! It’ll grow out soon, don’t worry about it.”

You were still seething for the rest of the day, and you were plotting your revenge plan on Luke for weeks. You wanted to kill him, and had been ignoring him since that very moment.

You figured your life was over, and what better way to spend your final moments pretending Luke didn’t exist after what he’d done to you. You decided that he was public enemy #1, or at least that’s what he was until you looked in the mirror, albeit a month or two later, and your hair had grown out into a short bob, framing your sweet features beautifully. You started to feel better about it.

Later that day, you went up to your mom and curled up in her lap. “Do you think Luke and I will ever get along again?” You asked while she was reading a book.

Your mother sighed and smiled at you, “You and the boys just have different interests. When you get older, things will be different and you’ll be even closer.”

december 2015

Your mom was right, although you and Luke were pretty far in age, he was practically your baby brother and best friend. You were close, despite differing interests and he would confide in you on a regular basis. One particular night, Luke rode his bike down the sidewalk in the cold, snowy winter and knocked on the window to your first-story bedroom.

You immediately let him in, then asked him what was wrong. Ten-year-old Luke pulled you into a hug and started spilling out his feelings and secrets. “Jack’s so rude!” He exclaimed into your shoulder, “He thinks he’s so much better at everything! Hockey, Mario Kart, basketball, all of it.”

“And?” You inquired, “Just ignore him, Lukey.”

He sniffed some more and released himself from your arms, “He keeps excluding me from his friends and stuff, they’re over and he pretends I don’t exist because I’m not good.” He wiped his nose and sat on the carpeted floor by your bed, “Quinn’s not home, he’s at a tournament with Mom.” He attempted to clarify why Quinn couldn’t stop, although you already knew because your brother was with them.

You frowned, “That’s not cool of him.” You quickly shot a text message to Jim saying Luke came over here to hang out, so nobody got worried. “Are you hungry?”

He nodded, and you offered to make some Kraft mac and cheese. “Feel free to listen to music or something, love you.” You slipped out the door and went to make him some dinner.

Since you were little, you knew for certain that you’d always be there for him and now you knew you’d always look out for him, whenever he needed it. Even if one day he’d be more able to protect himself than you ever could, today you would refrain from marching over to the Hughes residence and getting in a physical fight with Jack.

march 2020

It was almost your eighteenth birthday, so you were visiting home to hang out with your parents, the Hughes’, and a few other hometown friends. You entered the front door to your house after catching up with your friend over coffee to see your parents and the Hughes’ bent over Luke and his laptop. “What’s up?” You question, hanging up your big, puffy jacket.

“We’re waiting for my UMich college acceptance letter, they sent them out today.” He said, nervously. You could tell by the shakiness of his voice.

You joined them at the table, “Don’t be silly, Lukey. You know that they’ve already expressed interest in you and your game.” He smiled a little as you ruffled his hair, and sat down at the chair to the right of him.

“I wish Jack and Quinn were here.” Luke sighed and scratched his head, “Jack promised he’d call, but I think he’s busy.”

You frowned for him, you knew how much closer he and Jack had become in the last few years, but they’d drifted again when Jack moved to New Jersey last year. A part of you wished Jack had gone to college and stayed closer, but you and Luke knew he was too good for the NHL to wait on. “I’m sure he’ll call soon, bub. Give it a little bit.”

After about twenty minutes of refreshing and chatting, the letter from the University of Michigan popped up. It was nerve-wracking. Luke had already been accepted into a few safety schools that wanted him on their hockey teams, but he really wanted to follow in Quinn’s footsteps and go to Michigan. Luke’s cursor hovered over the email for a few moments before clicking it, and to nobody’s surprise, it was an acceptance letter. Everybody cheered, but you seemed the most excited (besides Luke, of course.)

“Luke!” You squealed, hugging the boy from the side as tight as possible, “You did it!”

He hugged you back, “Thanks for supporting me, and letting me sleep on your floor.. and buying me food all the time.” He chuckled, “Couldn’t have done it without you, sissy.”

present day

It was Luke and Jack’s day off, as they had zero games scheduled for the next few days. You had come to visit them to watch a few games, and you were staying at their apartment. It wasn’t a rare occurrence that you came and watched their games, stayed in the guest bedroom of their Hoboken apartment, and hung out with their team and whatever WAGs were joining them. But today it was just you and Luke, chilling on the couch and watching ‘Elf’.

“Remember last November when we went to New York?” You recalled while watching Buddy run through the city. Luke turned the TV down and grinned.

He nodded, “Yeah, good times. And we ate so much chocolate that you almost threw up.”

“That wasn’t because of the chocolate,” you objected, “it was because you were making me laugh so hard my organs hurt.”

Luke snorted as he remembered the vacation and the hotel room you guys stayed in. It was a spontaneous trip on a week when he was injured to try and cheer him up. You guys sat all night judging random music albums and your boyfriend at the time. It was all just a part of a collection of memories you loved to revisit, a photo album in your head.

“God, I can’t believe how old we’re getting.” You said, a tone of sadness. “You used to fit on my shoulders, and now I think you might break them if I tried to give you another piggyback ride.” You laughed softly.

“I’m grateful that our moms raised us two houses down.” Luke threw a piece of popcorn at your face.

You threw it back, “I’m grateful I get to know you.” You stated, a smile gracing your features.

i’m right here. fall to me, to me. fill your head with sweet dreams, sweet dreams. you’d never hurt a thing, nothing. i hope you know to talk to me.

end

#luke hughes #jack hughes #quinn hughes #nj devils #hughes brothers #hughes family #nhl #nhl hockey #luke hughes x reader #jack hughes x reader #quinn hughes x reader #nhl fic #nhl blurb #hockey fic #hockey #maddie writes stuff #hockey au #umich hockey #fall to me au!

[rentumblsstuff]

Random Hatchetfield Headcanons

The first time Alice Woodward ever smoked weed was when (after much inner turmoil) she asked Deb to shotgun it with her.

Max has two snaggletoothed incisors which is why people swear to god he has fangs.

Deb also has a snaggletooth which is what inspired the vampire part of Alice’s vampiric sapphic play. Alice also thinks it’s ironic she made a vampire character when Deb is a vegan.

Ruth as a Sophmore hit on Senior Alice a lot. Alice thought it was funny and she and Deb “adopted” her. Max and Steph also put the PANIC in bi panic for Ruth.

Max would find it weirdly hot that Grace wears bathing suits under her clothes because of the idea that he gets to see what her body looks like before even she does.

The hospital is downtown, so Becky Barnes definitely got infected in TGWDLM. Despite never wanting to do it again, Becky climbs the tree as someone calls the HFPD to save Kathy’s cat because she’s still infinitely compassionate even under Pokey’s control. Plus, Pokey knows she wants to get over the trauma associated with climbing trees, so he makes her do it to give her a big number about finally overcoming her past. She accidentally flings the cat as soon as the song starts, which is why in Show Me Your Hands, the cat dies so quickly even though it JUST got called in.

Peter infected Steph who infected Deb who infected Alice in TGWDLM. Pete and Steph would have been Sophomores and Deb and Alice were Seniors, but I always imagine Steph and Deb knowing eachother because MRFC said Steph is in the Smoke Club on Twitter at some point. Assuming Steph’s been a little punk for a while, she’s been in the smoke club since at least Sophomore year, and probably a new inductee the same year as TGWDLM (2018).

Alice and one of her parents (maybe Bill) were also raised in purity culture because we know the Woodwards and the Chastitys go to the same church. The Woodwards probably take it with a grain of salt though (Alice has expressed dislike over Grace’s prudishness)- either that or one of her parents (probably her mom) wasn’t originally from said church and also raised Alice with “this is what you’re learning here, but here’s also what I learned at my church at your age.” Bill was likely the one raised in purity culture because he does NOT LIKE DEB and thinks that if she HAS TO date a girl, she should date someone like Grace Chastity, implying she’s an exemplary teen girl. Ms. Woodward lets Deb sleep over and probably knows she smokes and likes her anyways; three points for Alice’s mom not being the puritanical one.

Ted reads romance novels. He’s a former geek turned sleazeball- you know he reads the smuttiest novels ever and calls them “his research”. He refuses to read any book with the friends to lovers trope because it’s too upsetting to think about. (Side note Time Bastard gave us a definite date that timelines don’t branch/reset before depending on whichever theory you believe because the homeless man is in every timeline, meaning that Jenny’s death is fixed in time and never changes: October 7th 2004, so the timelines change anywhere between October 8th 2004 and 2018.)

In whatever timeline Emma finally gets to have her weed farm, she meets Paul when he tells her he was prescribed that marajamij for his anxiety and he was too scared to try Xanax. She thinks he’s kind of cute for a wet cat of a corporate slave. “Fuck the patriarchy? Yes please.” (Side note Paul seems so uptight and unfuckable like bro gotta be blank down there like a Ken doll and has no discernible kinks from what I remember while Emma is laid back and chill asf and like… normal in comparison so yeah sure Paulkins canonically fucks but does Emma enjoy it?? Like dude even Pete’s more fuckable than him come on.)

Pete and Steph don’t kiss when they admit their feelings for eachother even though one of them would die before ever getting to kiss each other because they both think it’ll only make it that much harder to go through with sacrificing the other. One of the reasons Pete also chooses to be the one to take the bullet because he doesn’t think he even COULD pull the trigger on her. Like it’d be physically impossible for him, in his mind.

TGWDLM was originally meant to be an allegory for the institution brainwashing us. Show Me Your Hands and America’s Great Again: examples of people in power working for and fulfilling the evil wishes of some almighty, otherworldly, inhuman THING (be it aliens, be it those in power). It’s clearly meant to satirize the way that power corrupts and tries to convince you its way is better. Even Hidgens, THE FUCKING TEACHER, tries to teach his student that it will be better for everyone to join in that corruption and give in to the hive mind. This reminds me of how the school system in America tries to paint our history as something glamorous; manifest destiny instead of genocide of the indigenous populations. The people in power convincing those under them that the deaths of countless lives is a good thing and it will pave the way to a better future. Cool motive, still murder. Which is why Emma “Fuck the Patriarchy” Perkins is the last one to be infected. She was incapable of being brainwashed , and even when she was the last one left, she saw that the people watching didn’t care, and the all-consuming threat of corrupted power closes in on her until the very last moment.

The Lords in Black were going to try to convince whoever sacrificed their most treasured something to do more work for them, but Grace required very little convincing. Like Wiggly spoke into her mind like “Gracy-Wace! You forgot my booky-wook! Look in it, see any thing you like? Wanna kill all the pervy-wervys?” And she’s like “holy cow I can kill all the pervy-wervys with this book?” Pete would have needed the most convincing because he’s just lost the only girl who will ever love him (in his mind) and so he’d think these things took away his one chance at true love and NEVER want to deal with them again. Even if they offered him a way to get her back, he’s too smart to know that won’t come without an even bigger price AND too paranoid to think she won’t come back wrong like Max did.

If the Green-Foster family ever did get to move to California and Lex got to be an actress, her interview attitude would be a lot like Reneé Rapp and if she ever got asked about why she’ll openly shit talk people in an interview, she’s like “I used to work retail I learned pretty fast that nothing gets done if you keep your mouth shut.”

#starkid #hatchetfield #tgwdlm #black friday musical #nightmare time #npmd #alice woodward #max jagerman #grace chasity #bill woodward #stephanie lauter #peter spankoffski #ted spankoffski #paulkins #paul matthews #emma perkins #lautski #ruth fleming #becky barnes #lex foster #jenny starkid #lords in black #wiggog y'wrath

[kiwanopie]

Biggest Fan

boyfriend!kiyoomi part VI! one (1) instance of suggestion tooth rotting fluff. 1.3k

Belatedly, he realizes his request to have you move in with him may have been a little redundant.

You two traded keys within the twelve month mark in your relationship, by a year and a half were you coming back from your respective jobs to find the other somewhere cozied up in your respective flats. Fights didn’t really change much to the routine. Maybe a passive aggressive comment to clean your kitchen when he was too miffed at you to do it himself, a high protein lunch “Not!! made with love >:(!” But nothing could ever come between him and having his arms wrapped around you by nightfall. By year two, you were giving your clients the number to the fax at his place. Since ‘Why buy a new one when I’ve got a perfectly good one (that I just bought) at my apartment?”

Now, at year three - Full home office set up in his quaint little penthouse apartment, tenant parking spot, and a front office that signs his alerts with “To the recipients of…” He can’t really wrap his head around why you’re still paying rent at your old apartment? He knows you visit sometimes but hardly enough to keep paying for it. And even as he pads his socked feet around your modest living room, he finds it mostly bare save for a thrifted coffee table and a suede couch he’s fucked you on way too many times to count.

You push another box to him from the threshold of the hallway, another one that sounds a little glassy when he picks it up. “Seriously, what's in these?”

“Just two more of those, baby.” He hears you wheeze. “Then we’ll drop the keys off at the front desk.”

“Do you need any help?”

“Nu-uh.” You punctuate with a grunt.

Kiyoomi knits his brows at the box but turns his heel for the balcony anyway.

Although, maybe the decision to have you move in just yet was a little asinine. He’s been thinking of buying a house. One with a nice view of the stars and the city lights - right on the cusp of the rural area but not a full on road trip to the city; with a big lawn and grassy hedges, white picket fence, open windows, and a mailbox with your names on it.

Or name.

Kiyoomi almost drops the box when those October winds start to nip through his jacket. The falling sky promises something much colder as he tips his reddened nose to the clouds, and watches as they darken with rumbling rain.

It doesn’t take him but a few long strides to get back to the second level where you are, strenuously pushing the next much bigger box into the living room.

“Do you have a coat? It’s gonna start to rain soon.”

You sigh a little tiredly to yourself. “I’m already pretty heated up from all this moving, a little rain won’t hurt.”

“No, you’ll get sick.” Kiyoomi parries. “I’ll put you in my jacket then. I can just run to the car.”

“Nu-uh. I don’t want you to over exert yourself, Omi. You’ve got a game coming up, remember? If anyone shouldn’t be getting sick it’s you.”

You follow his movements as he bends for one of the boxes, avoiding the second much lighter one as you nudge it in his view. “Besides, I doubt it’ll start raining before we can drive back to Tokyo. Forecast says the storm will just miss us.”

Kiyoomi shorts you a glance that’s mostly concerned with the loaded box in front of him. “I- Angel, I still don’t want you to get sick. I can handle a little overwork. You, I very much doubt.”

“Ok, wow. What’s that supposed to- Oh wait, baby that one’s really heavy-“

He lifts it up like it’s nothing.

“Oh…” You gawp. “Right. Pro-athlete.”

Kiyoomi scoffs in favor of letting your astonished gape boost his ego. Though his eyes do catch on the little sliver of polished oak peeking through the box in his hands.

He tilts his head. “What’s this?”

- You break out in a full sweat.

“Uh- W-Wait, wait, baby don’t-“

He’s already swerving to the side to dodge you. Long muscled limbs suddenly too lithe to catch as he turns his shoulder to duck your attempts to stop him, and missing the way you moue at the realization that Christ, you forgot this guy was still somebody’s little brother.

Which means beside his usual indifferent candor, he evades your efforts to stop him from peaking inside with the kind of goading of someone used to slinking away with something he shouldn’t have. Even as you whine he half taunts at the way you try to get a hold of him. “What? What is-“

Kiyoomi nudges open the seal a little more. “Are these posters?”

“Omi-“

“Are these my posters?”

“Stop-“

“Have you been-“ He almost wants to laugh. You’re jumping. “Have you been collecting my posters? All this time?”

“Can you just-“

“Oh, you framed them too.”

“S-Stop it!”

Kiyoomi actually does laugh this time. Like, he actually laughs. And you know it’s supposed to be mean but it flutters out with such genuine mirth that it gives you butterflies. It makes you feel hot to the apples of your cheeks and punches you in the gut with the kind of love struck ardor that should’ve worn off over three years ago - but hasn’t. ~ He cards his eyes through the box. You watch him. But instead of horror or disgust, or worse the realization that his girlfriend might be a little lamer than he originally thought;

It’s pride. Honest to god delight that raises his lips over his teeth and turns his cheeks a little chubby. Zeal, and glee, and that kind of love struck ardor that should’ve worn off over three years ago -

But hasn’t. “Why have you been hiding these? We could’ve kept these next to all your stuff I keep.”

“All my…?”

“Your diploma, your board certificate, your license,” Kiyoomi absently taps his fingers against the box. Which as he does you all but stiffen at the realization. You figured he encouraged you to make copies because it was safer having a backup, and when you found them framed in his hallway later on you thought nothing of it. I mean, he has a lot of frames in his hallway. Family pictures, the Photo Booth reel from your first date, some miscellaneous pictures of his two siblings,

Your graduation picture, your first anniversary photo, the picture he made you take before your first day as a therapist-

Oh.

Kiyoomi gestures you forward as he starts the motion of walking to his car. “With the way you iced me out before we started dating I was worried you didn’t even like volleyball.”

“Of course I like volleyball?” If the little fan trinkets in the box you’re carrying should mean anything. “I’ve been to like all of your games?”

“Yeah, I know that now,”

He makes the motion of shimming his jacket down his shoulders as he carefully sits the box where the others are, easily lifting the final one out of your grasp as he passes it over; and the way his biceps pop out of his t-shirt makes you shudder when he lifts his arms to close the trunk.

His jacket is warm, it smells just like him. “But you were sure playing coy when we first got together.”

- You, again, break into a sweat.

The way your nose crinkles up in embarrassment is honestly enough to have him suppressing a smirk when he turns to you again. Albeit poorly. Seriously, this guy seems intent on teasing you into the mud today.

“Well!” You stammer. “Because-“

“Well, because!” Kiyoomi kisses you on the forehead as you gasp at the way he openly mocks you. “Shut up. You’re so cute it’s stupid.”

He pinches your cheeks when you rightfully pout at him. “And fix your face. It’ll get stuck like that.”

“When did you become such a bully?!”

“Somewhere between “Can you be my girlfriend?” and “I love you too.””

He titters a little as you grumble your way into the car.

#this one’s gotta be my favorite #boyfriend!kiyoomi #sakusa kiyoomi #hq sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu!! #haikyuu x reader #sakusa fluff #haikyuu sakusa #sakusa x reader #sakusa scenarios #sakusa fic #sakusa imagines #sakusa x y/n #sakusa drabble #sakusa fanfiction #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu imagines

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Chapter 15- She Shoots, She Scores

Summary: You and Javi go to visit your family in Chicago. Javi gets his first chance to see snow, the two of you are tasked with unexpected baby sitting duty, and your family is... well, your family.

Word Count: 13.3K (I mean like... Could be worse?)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (don't be a fool, wrap your tool), creampie, praise kink, big ole breeding kink (you watch Javi hold a baby, what do you expect), talks of building a family, grief/loss of a family member, trying to talk about death/loss with a child (UGH sweet little Olivia), mentions of eating, mentions of drinking/being hungover (your dad had a rough night out with his besties), there is literally so much future dad!Javi content in this chapter and I am not sorry about it at all

A/N: Okay I am not gonna lie, the self indulgent part of me was SO excited to get our girl out on the ice in some hockey skates and kick ass 🤪 There are so many things that make me smile about this chapter besides that- the fact that Javi has probably never seen snow before this trip, Javi and Osita babysitting together and being the cutest future parents (please excuse me while I SCREAM into a pillow) and Osita's family just being who they are. Nothing really holiday themed about this chapter at all, just some good, old fashioned midwest winter fun!

Series Masterlist Next Chapter Previous Chapter

“Baby, I’m telling you, you’re gonna wanna pack warmer stuff than that. I don’t think you understand how cold Chicago is this time of year.” You laughed to yourself as you peeked over at Javi’s suitcase, sitting on top of yours to try and cram as many sweaters and sweatshirts in as possible to brace yourself for the reality you knew was winter in the midwest. 

After spending the first half of your winter break together in Laredo, you and Javi had agreed to make your way out to your family to spend the second part of the holidays with them. As much as you had grown to love everything about life in Laredo, there was something about Chicago at Christmas time that filled you with a warmth and happiness you couldn’t wait to share together with Javi. The only problem was, Javi had never once experienced weather colder than your last trip to Chicago in October, let alone the brutal Illinois winter he was in for tomorrow when your flight landed, and the temperature was about to drop 40 degrees. 

“Osita, I find it hard to believe that it’s that fucking cold. I have plenty of stuff packed that I’m sure will be fine.” Javi smirked, now laughing at you, wrestling with the zipper you had barely managed to close from your overflowing outfit choices. 

“Javi. It’s Chicago. In December. It’s fucking cold. But who am I to say anything? I’ve only spent every winter in Chicago since birth, so what would I know?” You groaned, overdramatically rolling your eyes at Javi, who you had spent the past few days trying to prepare for the bitter cold and snow that he was drastically unaware of. “Will you please put like, a few more sweatshirts in there? I promise I’m not trying to be overbearing, I just know you have literally spent your entire life in the sun and if you thought 50 degrees was cold in October, you’re about to be in for a rude awakening, mister.” You snickered, plopping yourself down on the bed next to Javi’s suitcase he found himself hovering over before looking at you, shaking his head. 

“Fine, I will put a few more in there.” He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss on your head before heading back over to his drawer to throw a few more sweatshirts and long sleeved shirts in with the rest of his clothes. “I am actually really excited for the snow.” Javi smirked, a boyish grin growing across his face. 

“God, it’s so weird to me that you’ve never seen snow before. It’ll get old fast, believe me. Especially when you have to spend all morning shoveling it out of the driveway before you can go anywhere, or when I kick your ass in a snowball fight.” You reached over, giving him a playful punch before squealing as Javi lunged on top of you, making you bounce on the bed as he peppered ticklish kisses across your neck and chest, leaving you giggling and swatting beneath him. 

“Yeah, really? You’re gonna kick my ass? How the fuck do you kick someone’s ass at a snowball fight, hmmm?” He questioned between pecks of his lips against your skin before finally pulling away, letting you catch your breath from your laughter. 

“You’ll find out once you have a big ole snowball in your face, won’t you?” Leaning back against the headboard of the bed, you crossed your arms over your chest, raising an eyebrow at Javi, giving him a little shrug. “Don’t think I’m taking it easy on you because you have no snowball making experience. This will be an all out war, Peña.” 

“I don’t think I’d ever expect anything less from you, Osita.” 

Javi was just as thankful as you that this trip to Chicago seemed to be less nerve wracking than your first one a few months ago- for the sake of your own sanity and the bones in his hand, considering your only slightly eased death grip around it on the 3 hour flight leaving Laredo. The O’Hare International Airport was buzzing with the hustle and bustle of holiday travelers, people dashing through the terminals, crowding at gates, and fighting for taxis. You couldn’t believe how busy it still was after Christmas had passed, considering the fight it had been to try and hail a cab to get to your parents house. 

The drive to your childhood home from the airport had felt starkly different than the one you and Javi had taken in October, a sense of comfort and relief washing over you in having ripped off the band aid that was your first trip back home since Patrick’s death, which was approaching almost exactly a year ago. To be honest, there was a part of you that was expecting this trip to somehow be more painful- having to face your first Christmas without your brother- your last one being only days before he had passed away, getting dumped by your ex, and running half way across the country to try and forget anything and everything you could about the life that had crumbled at the seams beneath you. But as you ran your thumb gently over your ring finger, pressing against the delicate gold band that had made its home there since Thanksgiving, staring at your future husband, excitedly looking out the window at the thick flakes of snow falling from the sky, you couldn’t help but smile at just how lucky you were. You also couldn’t help but think how happy your brother would have been for you, too- to know his death hadn’t meant that your life had ended either. Truth be told, it was only just beginning. 

“What do you think?” You asked, biting down on your lip as you gave Javi’s hand a little squeeze, taking in the cuteness that was watching him watch the snowflakes gently drift through the winter breeze before landing in the already massive piles lining the streets below. His eyes lit up with a childlike glow, trying his best to contain his giddiness as he looked out the window before looking back over at you. 

“It’s… Fuck, it’s beautiful.” Even though you knew he was talking about the soft, white flakes falling behind you, the way his eyes never left yours as the words fell from his lips made your cheeks warm in a way that would have melted any snowflakes that would have landed there. “I’m so glad that our kids will be able to grow up knowing what it’s like to have snow.” 

“It is a lot prettier when you know you only have to be in it for a week, and not multiple months.” You laughed as you shook your head, admiring the snow covered suburbia outside your window. It made your smile just a little bit wider as you watched kids playing outside in their front yards, rolling giant snowballs for snowmen or, digging holes in the snow plowed piles along their driveways to make forts, knowing that one day, your children would get to do the same with you and Javi. “Yeah, it is nice that they’ll get to have both. Unless they inherit your warm weather genes, and complain every time it’s colder than 70 degrees out. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to teach them well so we can gang up on you for all the snowball fights.” Javi looked over at you, smirking to himself as he reached across the backseat to grab your hand, intertwining it with yours. 

“I wouldn’t want it any other way.” 

The rest of your drive was spent quietly, hand in hand, as you admired the snowfall from your windows, gently music playing softly from the car radio as Javi’s thumb rubbed against the soft skin of your knuckles, taking an extra few moments to touch the beautiful ring forever wrapped around your finger, excited for the winters ahead he got to spend with you.  

“Listen… I’m not trying to say I told you so but-” 

“Yeah, it’s fucking cold, okay? You win, Osita.” You tried your best to keep from bursting out into laughter as you could see Javi visibly shivering, pulling out your suitcases out of the back of the cab, trying his best not to drop them in the slush covered streets of your neighborhood. The beautiful facade of the winter wonderland Javi had been admiring through the window of the taxi quickly faded as he stepped outside to face the reality of a true Chicago December. Grabbing your own bag, you hoisted it up over the pile of snow on either side of the walkway up to your house, making sure to take an extra big step over the mound at the edge of the curb you had learned over the years that your dad was too lazy to shovel to avoid ending up with a shoe full of snow.

 “Oh fuck me…” Javi sighed, now ankle deep in the pile you had forgotten to warm him about, frantically shaking his foot to try and get the snow off his foot. 

“Like I said, I’m not trying to say I told you so…” You grimaced, looking down at Javi’s snow soaked foot before looking back up at him, giving him a sarcastically sympathetic shrug. 

“Pendejo. Can we please go inside before we fucking freeze out here?” 

“But I thought it was so beautiful? Have you changed your mind, you warm weathered, sun spoiled baby?” You teasted, giggling to yourself at the annoyed look on Javi’s face before turning back around to head towards the house. 

Almost to the door, you practically froze in your tracks, your jaw hanging open in shock as a cold, hard thump hit the back of your jacket, whipping your head back around the see Javi pulling his hands out of the snow, wiping them on his jeans before glancing down to see the little white blob that had slid down your back, landing by your feet. “Did you just throw a fucking snowball at me?!” You yelled, a devilish smirk spreading ear to ear across Javi’s face as you stared at him in disbelief. 

“It was just so beautiful, I couldn’t help it.” He mocked, raising an eyebrow at you before finishing the rest of the journey up the pathway to your door, giving you a playful nudge as he passed you. 

“You’re the worst, I hope you know that.” 

“You’re the one who said yes.” He smirked, gesturing down at the ring on your finger before placing a quick kiss on your rosy cheek, opening up the front door. 

“Hey you guys we’re-” 

“Oh thank God you’re here.” Charlie sighed, frantically shoving an oversized diaper bag in your arms as he ran down the stairs next to the entryway of your parents house. 

“Good to see you too, Charlie? Thanks for the diaper bag? Where’s everyone else?” You questioned, a puzzled look growing across your face, as Charlie rapidly ran back up the stairs, only hearing his voice shout down the hallway. 

“Natalie! They’re here!” You looked up at Javi, the two of you stumped as to what was happening before Charlie was speeding back down the steps, the sound of little feet following behind him. 

“Auntie Bear, Auntie Bear, Auntie Bear!” Olivia squealed, her tiny feet pattering down the hallway, outstretching her arms to be picked up for a hug. Quickly setting down the diaper bag you had been handed to avoid getting run over by your niece, your arms mirrored hers, scooping her up, giving her a big hug. 

“Hi, cutie pie!” You grinned, giving her a big kiss on the cheek before setting her back down, Olivia then swiftly making her way over to Javi. 

“Hi Uncle Javi!” She beamed, wrapping her little arms around his waist, hugging his hip. 

“Hey, Olivia!” Javi smiled widely at his new title, rubbing his hand against her head, ruffling her hair. 

“Hi Awnt Bawwwww!!.” A little voice screeched, Brianna waving her tiny hand at you as she tumbled down the stairwell, following her sister. 

“Hi Lil Miss! C’mere, sweetie!” You giggled, picking up your other niece and hosting her on your hip, planting little kisses across her face, making her squeal, before gently placing her back on the ground. You were so focused on your adorable niece’s hugs and greetings, that you hadn’t been paying attention to Charlie scurrying through the living room, cleaning and gathering items that had been scattered around your parents house by his daughters. Swiftly making her way down the stairs with the newest addition to your family, your new nephew Lucas, Charlie’s wife Natalie was already handing him off to you as she fixed the earring she was trying to place before helping Charlie in the living room.  

“You wanna tell us what’s going on?” You questioned, laughing at your brother and his wife frantically running around the house as you carefully held up Lucas, melting at his sweet, rosy cheeks and messy blonde tufts of hair, finally getting to see him in person for the first time. “Oh my God, aren’t you the sweetest thing? Hi, little Lucas! What are your crazy mom and dad up to, huh? What’s happening that’s got them running around like psychopaths?” You giggled, talking to him in a high pitched voice as he babbled, resting his tiny head against your chest. 

“Can you guys babysit?!” Charlie paused, shoving a few more items into Lucas’s diaper bag sitting by your feet, a pathetic and guilty look growing across his face. 

“Wait, babysit? Where are you two going? Aren’t mom and dad-” 

“Well David was supposed to, but he got called into work today because they were short staffed. Natalie’s work Christmas party is tonight. Our idiot brother told Mom and Dad that you guys weren’t coming until tomorrow, so they planned dinner with the Kolawski’s tonight, and our babysitter is out of town for the holidays so we don’t have anyone to watch the kids.” Charlie grunted as he shoved the last of his shoe on his foot, standing up and looking at you with pleading eyes. “Mom and Dad were watching while we were at work and when we found out you guys were actually coming in today, we stayed hoping that you could watch them, too. Please Cubby?” 

“Well, I think your first mistake was trusting David to relay any accurate information at any point in time.” You rolled your eyes, readjusting Lucas, cradling the back of his head. 

“If you could, it would mean so much. I’ve been looking forward to finally going back to see everyone at work for this party. I know it’s so last minute. I’m so sorry you guys, if you can’t it’s okay, we don’t have to go.” Natalie smiled sympathetically, leaning down to give Olivia a quick kiss on the head as she wrapped her arms around her mom’s leg. 

“Please Auntie Bear? Please, please, please, please?” Olivia begged, looking up at you with big puppy dog eyes. 

“I don’t see why we can’t? Is that okay with you, Jav?” You shrugged at Charlie before looking over at Javi, eyes wide as he stared at you bouncing Lucas in your arms, your words seeming to go in one ear and out the other watching you hold your nephew. 

“Hmmm? Oh yeah. Yeah! Yeah, of course we can babysit.” Javi visibly shook his head to snap himself out of whatever daydream he was having as he looked at you, bringing himself back to reality. 

“Yay! Auntie Bear and Uncle Javi are gonna babysit!” Olivia squealed, squeezing Brianna in excitement, the two of them giggling and bouncing up and down before running off into the living room, heading back to whatever toys they were playing with before your arrival.

“Oh my God, thank you so much, Cubby. We owe you big time.” Charlie reached over, giving you a quick side hug before reaching for his and Natalie’s coats behind you, hanging by the front door. 

“It’s not a big deal at all, Charlie, we’re more than happy to. Anything special we need to know with this lil cutie? The other two I’ve got down pat.” You leaned over, kissing Lucas’s soft, feathery hair as you held him. 

“Keep him alive? I don’t know, Cubby, he’s a baby, it’s not that hard. Feed him and put him to bed when he falls asleep.” Charlie raised an eyebrow at you, shrugging as he put his coat on. 

“You’re not the one that question was directed towards, idiot.” You rolled your eyes, looking over at Natalie, laughing to herself as she shimmied her coat over her arms. 

“I just fed him an hour ago, so you can feed him at 8, diaper bag has everything he needs in there, his pack-n-play is set up in the spare room, and if he’s fussy, put him in the baby rocker and he’ll fall right asleep. You can call Charlie’s cell if you need anything, and I’ll answer.” 

“Thank you for that helpful information, Natalie. Crazy that I’d wanna know those kinds of things before having a 3 month old baby dropped in my care.” You jabbed at Charlie, oblivious to your remark as he was already opening the front door. 

“Yeah, sure, whatever. Thank you Cubby, we’ll be back at like, 10? Okay, bye you guys, be good for Auntie Bear and Javi, love you!” Charlie half shouted as he booked it out the door, Natalie following behind him. 

“Thank you guys, so much. I’d apologize for Charlie being the way that he is, but…you already know. Bye girls! I love you both, Daddy and I will see you later, okay? Have lots of fun!” Natalie gave you a quick hug before waving goodbye, following Charlie out the door, leaving Olivia, Brianna, Lucas, in your care for an unexpected night in on babysitting duty. 

“Is this okay? I’m really sorry, I know we just got here, I wasn’t gonna say no, but I-” 

“Hermosa. Of course it’s okay.” Javi smiled, cutting you off as he placed his hand on the small of your back, his thumb tracing soft circles along your jacket you still had yet to take off from your arrival.

“Okay. You sure? You were giving me a weird look when I asked you at first.” You questioned, raising an eyebrow at him before pressing a soft kiss onto Lucas’s head as he cooed. Javi looked back at you, letting out a sigh, biting down on his lip and he leaned down to give you what you thought was going to be a kiss on your cheek, before he stopped at your ear. 

“Maybe it’s because watching you hold that baby is making me wanna put one in you right now.” His words sent a shiver down your spine, his breath hot and heavy against your neck as he pulled away, giving you a quick wink while your eyes just about popped out of your head from his unwarranted comment. 

“Jesus Christ, Javier Jesús Peña. You cannot just be saying things like that to me, or I’m gonna throw my fucking birth control out the window and spontaneously combust.” You sighed, jabbing his side as the two of you laughed to yourselves. 

“Auntie Bearrrrrrrr! Me and Bri Bri are hungry! We want dino nuggies, pleaseeeee!” Olivia shouted from across the room, waving one of her many stuffed animals at you to get your attention.

“Okay, cuties! Let’s go in the kitchen and we can make some dinner, alright?” You called back, thankful for your niece’s impeccable timing before you melted into a puddle from Javi’s suggestion. “You’re a menace, you know that right? This is about to be the most challenging night of babysitting ever because of you. You haven’t even held Lucas yet, and just the thought of it is making me want to do unspeakable things to you.” You sighed, making your way towards the kitchen, trying your best to not even look at Javi before you completely fell apart. 

“Is that a threat, or a promise?” Javi smirked as he followed behind you, making you whip your head around, giving him a stern look for the sake of your sanity. 

“A menace, I swear.” 

Olivia and Brianna had somehow charmed you and Javi into convincing the both of you that they needed not only dinosaur chicken nuggets, but also mac and cheese, compromising with carrots as the required vegetable to go with their meal if they wanted the hot chocolate they had also requested for after dinner. 

“Uncle Javi, will you play reindeer with us while Auntie Bear finishes cooking?” Olivia asked, dangling her legs off the counter where Javi had put her after her request to help with placing the chicken nuggets on the baking sheet before they went in the oven. You smirked at Javi, holding Brianna on your hip as she fumbled with a noodle you had given her to play with while you stirred the mac and cheese. 

“Reindeer?” He asked, leaning against the counter next to Olivia, hand on his hip as he began to intently listen to her explanation. 

“Before Mommy and Daddy left, Bri Bri and I were reindeer and Daddy was Santa and he had to chase us back to help get ready for next Christmas!” Olivia stated, matter of factly, as if everyone should have already been aware of how to play. 

“Yeah, you dotta wun weeeellyyy fast!” Brianna chimed in, finally plopping the stray noodle into her mouth, chewing loudly in your ear. 

“What, are you saying I’m not fast enough, Missy?” You smiled at Olivia, making her giggle as you set Brianna down before giving her sides a tickle and picking her up off of the counter and placing her on the ground next to her sister. 

“No, it’s because Uncle Javi has to be Santa and you have to be Mrs. Claus so you can watch the baby elf.” She told you, pointing over at Lucas, sound asleep in his rocker, a mischievous grin on her face. “So Uncle Javi has to chase us or else we won’t be playing it right. Please Uncle Javi, will you play reindeer with us? Pleaseeeee?” Olivia pleaded, looking up at Javi, pouting her bottom lip, quickly joined by Brianna, stomping her feet in excitement. 

“Do we have enough time to play reindeer?” Javi grinned, raising an eyebrow at you as you stirred the pot simmering on the stove, looking over at your timer. 

“You guys have 6 minutes before dinner is done, got it?” You smiled at the girls as they began to squeal in delight. “But… Reindeer are extra fast if they eat carrots, so one carrot for each of you before you play okay?” You grabbed two carrot sticks from the bag on the counter, holding them out to the girls who gladly agreed at their newly promised speed. 

“Okay!” They chomped, Olivia stopping mid-bite, pointing towards Javi. “Doesn’t Uncle Javi have to eat a carrot, too?” She questioned, now debating the fairness of your carrot trick. 

“I thought Santa just got to eat cookies…” Javi grumbled, trying to get out of paying your carrot toll. 

“Oh, that is a good point, Olivia! Santa should have to eat some carrots, it’d be good for him.” You snickered, holding out a carrot stick for Javi, grimacing as he crossed his arms over his chest, refusing to take it from you, knowing that you were well aware of his disdain for this particular vegetable. 

“Last time I checked, Santa doesn’t like carrots.” 

“Last time I checked, Santa was a good role model for his reindeer who ate his carrots and didn’t complain about it.” You shoved the carrot in Javi’s face, laughing to yourself as he rolled his eyes, painfully taking it out of your hand, looking at it with regret before taking a bite. Javi tried his best to hide the disgusted look on his face as he chewed, letting out a gulp as he swallowed, trying to play off how much he had hated every second of what he had just done. 

“Wow, SO good.” Javi glared at you as the two girls took off running out of the kitchen, screaming and screeching for Javi to come catch them while you looked back at him with a smug smile, shrugging playfully. “You make me eat another carrot and I’m on the next flight home to Texas.” 

“UNCLE JAVI YOU HAVE TO COME CATCH US NOW!” Olivia yelled from the next room over, you and Javi peeking out from the kitchen to see her and Brianna doing laps around the living room. 

“You are such a baby. A 3 and 6 year old complained less than you did. Now go, you have some very fast reindeer to catch, Santa. Don’t make me give you another carrot.” You giggled as you pressed up on to your tiptoes, cupping Javi’s cheek as you gave him a quick kiss, Javi wrapping his hand around the back of your head to hold you there a moment longer, his voice low and hushed as his lips barely parted from yours. 

“Careful what you ask for, baby. Can’t give you my North Pole later if I’m all the way back in Laredo cause you made me eat another fucking carrot.” With a wink and another quick peck on your cheek, Javi pulled away, making his way towards the girls in the living room as you gave him the most over dramatic roll of your eyes you could conjure. 

“JAVIER PEÑA. You are the most ridiculous person I have ever met, I swear to God.” 

You had most definitely let more than your promised 6 minutes go by as you stood in the entrance to the living room, watching Javi chase Olivia and Brianna in circles around the couch, the 3 of them laughing and smiling as he would purposely let them pass him, only to grab them both a few moments later, tossing them onto the cushions before the girls crawled over the sides of the sofa to escape again.

 It was a good thing you hadn’t watched him hold Lucas yet, because the sight of him playing with your nieces alone was enough to have you weak in the knees, thinking about how goddamn sweet he was with them, and much sweeter it would be once it was your own kids, not just Olivia and Brianna. 

You were so in love with this man, it physically hurt. 

The four of you chatted away at dinner, listening to Olivia talk about her class party at school, what gifts they had gotten for Christmas, and what toys they were most excited to show you from Santa. Your reindeer trick had worked wonders to get them to eat the rest of their carrots, along with their nuggets and macaroni, the girls both very adamantly reminding you that they could get their hot chocolate now that they had finished all of their dinner. 

You and Javi had agreed there had been plenty of reindeer chasing for the night, and with it starting to get late, that you all could pick a movie to watch while drinking your coco as the last activity before getting the girls to bed. You helped Olivia and Brianna get changed into their pajamas and put Lucas down for bed while Javi finished cleaning up the rest of dinner and starting the hot chocolate. 

As the girls paraded back out into the living room in their matching snowman pajamas, they shrieked in delight to see that Javi had somehow managed to find every spare pillow and blanket in your parent’s house, making a giant, cozy nest in front of the couch, complete with the glow of your parent’s Christmas tree in the background, and mugs of hot chocolate resting on the TV stand waiting for them. A few minutes later after putting Lucas down to bed, you followed behind, hearing their giggles and squeals as they nestled into the comfy pile on the ground, Javi sitting on the sofa waiting for you. 

“Auntie Bear, look! Uncle Javi made us a blanket pile! And he put extra whipped cream in our hot chocolate!” Olivia beamed, whipped cream smeared across her face as he smiled at you. 

“Da hot chocwate is weelllyyy yummy!” Brianna joined in, her whipped cream mustache almost as thick as Javi’s real one. 

“If they’re up at midnight, I’m telling Charlie and Natalie it was your fault.” You whispered to Javi as you sat down next to him, Javi automatically wrapping his arm around your shoulder as you curled up in the broadness of his grasp. 

“You’re the one who promised them hot chocolate, Osita.” He whispered back, giving you a little nudge and a wink. 

“Not hot chocolate and half a can of whipped cream on top.” 

You rolled your eyes at him, laughing to yourself as you watched the girls chug the rest of their drinks, passing Javi the remote to the TV. “The girls voted for Rudolph The Rednosed Reindeer.  I told them I met some really cool reindeer earlier, but they kept trying to run away from Santa. I wonder if they’re in this movie too.“ 

“Oh my goodness, Olivia and Brianna are my favorite reindeer that pull Santa’s sleigh, you saw them earlier? I’m so sad I missed them!” You and Javi smiled as Olivia and Brianna broke out in hysterical giggles. 

“No Uncle Javi and Auntie Bear, that was us! We’re not really reindeer, Uncle Javi was just being silly.” Olivia laughed, her cheeks turning pink and rosy from her grin. 

“He is very silly, isn’t he? You ready for the movie, my favorite little reindeers?” 

It wasn’t long before the giggles and sing-alongs of Rudoplh had quickly turned to soft, sleepy snores from Olivia and Brianna, curled up in their blankets and snuggled up with their stuffed animals long before the film had finished. 

“I think you wore these reindeer out, Jav.” You smiled, looking down at the girls sound asleep, tucked away in the piles of pillows around them. 

“I think those reindeer wore me out. Jesus, I gotta stretch before I do that next time or I’m gonna throw out my back.” The two of you quietly laughed to yourselves, Javi resting his hand on your thigh, squeezing it gently. The two of you turned your heads as you heard a muffled cry coming from the baby monitor you had set on the end table near the couch, realizing that Lucas was awake, and needed something. 

“You wanna come with me to check on him?” You grunted, pushing yourself to stand from the couch, carefully stepping over your nieces, tucked away in the sea of pillows and blankets at your feet. 

“You sure they’re okay out here by themselves?” Javi gestured over to the girls, both sound asleep. 

“Jav, I’m pretty sure a tornado could blow through this house right now and they’d sleep through it. C’mon.” 

Sneaking quietly down the hallway into the guest room, you gently pushed open the door to the sounds of a wailing Lucas, writhing in his pack-n-play, tiny fists shaking in the air. “Oh c’mere, handsome.” You cooed, reaching down to pick up Lucas, hugging him against your chest as you bounced him up and down. “What’s the matter, bub?” You continued rocking, giving him a little kiss on the head as you held him. “Well, it’s not his diaper, and I just changed it after the girls put on their pajamas.” You shrugged, talking to yourself, tilting your head down to sniff near his tiny bottom, free of any suspicious scents. “I fed him then too. The little guy was out cold after that. What’s goin’ on, sweetie? Maybe you need to be burped again, ya little gassy monster. Here, Jav, can you hold him while I go get the burp cloths from the diaper bag?” 

The way you had picked Lucas up, you had your back to Javi, talking to your little nephew without even looking over at your fiancé. You figured he probably just hadn’t heard you, and had mistaken your question for him with the babbling you had been doing with Lucas. “Jav?” You asked again, this time turning around to face him, greeted by the awestruck look on Javi’s face, eyes wide and jaw slack as he stared you up and down. 

“Hmmmm?” He asked, shaking his head, letting out a loud gulp as the Adam's apple of his throat bobbed in his neck. 

“Can you hold Lucas while I go get something from his diaper bag?” You smirked, raising an  eyebrow at him, dying to know the thoughts swirling in his brain that had his face looking as dumbfounded as it did right now. 

“I uh, yeah- um, yeah, I can.” Javi responded, now looking flustered and nervous as you outstretched Lucas towards him. “Do you trust me to hold him?” He asked, reaching his hands out to take Lucas from you, his question quiet and sheepish. You cocked your head in confusion as you stared back at him. 

“Baby, of course I do? Do you not wanna hold him? You don’t have to if-” 

“No, I do, I just- He’s- I don’t wanna hurt him or anything- I don’t- I don’t think I’ve ever held a baby this small.” 

Javier Peña was a man who had faced many dangerous things in life- the cartel, violence, drugs, literal life or death decisions- Things that would make the average person tremble in fear, that Javi had learned to deal without a second thought. Yet, the prospect of holding a tiny, 3 month old baby in front of his future wife had Javi more nervous than he could remember being in the past decade. 8 months ago, he had no plans of ever finding someone, let alone plans to get married, or to have children of his own. Now, he wanted nothing more to give you a family- fuck, he’d give you all the kids you want, but that meant the reality of this future prospect was finally starting to sink in with Javi. 

He was terrified to be a dad. 

Not because he didn’t love you. Not because he didn’t want to be (because fuck, did he want to be), but because the idea that the tired, worn, and damaged man he’d written himself off to be was supposed to raise, protect, and nurture the tiny, little person the two of you would someday bring into the world scared the shit out of him. And all it took was you outstretching your crying newborn nephew in front of him for that earth shattering reality to sink in. 

“Javi…” You sighed, almost laughing to yourself with how worried your sweet fiancé was about being so careful with Lucas. “Baby, it’s okay. Here, why don’t you go sit down on the chair that’s over there and I’ll hand him over to you. We can take standing out of the equation if it makes you feel better.” Javi nodded, quickly sitting himself down on the oversized, cushioned chair in the corner of the guest bedroom. Bouncing Lucas a few more times to try and ease some of his tears before handing him over to Javi, you passed him off to his outstretched arms, carefully cradling him along his chest and shoulder. “You got ‘em?” You smiled, watching Javi’s eyes light up as he held Lucas, his tension visibly starting to ease once he was in his grasp. “I’ll be right back, okay?” 

You had no choice but to hightail it out of the guest room without looking at Javi for too long, knowing you would very much need to brace yourself for the image of Javi holding a baby before returning, considering you were going to absolutely crumble like a piece of paper the moment you really got a good look at him. 

As soon as Lucas was settled in Javi’s arms, his crying immediately began to ease, Javi gently rocking him in hopes that it would help to settle him down more. “Shhhhhh, hey, it’s okay, big guy.” Javi whispered, grinning to himself as he gazed down at Lucas’s bright eyes and rosy cheeks. “Fuck, you are cute. Sorry, I probably shouldn’t swear in front of you. Well, I don’t know, you’re a baby, you can’t understand anything I’m saying, can you?” Chuckling to himself, Javi leaned further back into the chair, pressing Lucas’s weight against his chest, resting the width of his large palm over his tiny head and back. “You think your Aunt’s gonna let me give her one of you soon? I sure hope so.” 

Turning the corner down the hallway back into the guest bedroom, you were 100% correct in realizing that there was no amount of mental preparation you could have done to brace yourself for the sight that was your future husband, snuggling and smiling with your nephew, who on top of everything else, had also gotten him to somehow stop crying. 

Jesus Christ, you were so fucked and needed him to give you 14 children today.  

“Wow, I leave for 30 seconds and you get him to stop crying?” You smirked, biting down on your lip as Javi looked over at you leaning in the doorway, holding your stack of brightly colored cloths from Lucas’s bag. “I didn’t know you were a baby whisperer, too.” 

“I didn’t think I did anything, I just held him and he stopped. He’s been fine since you left.” Javi shrugged, gently combing his fingers through the wild, sleepy ends of Lucas’s hair. 

“Alright, message received loud and clear, Baby Lucas, you like Uncle Javi better than me. A little rude, but alright.” You giggled, making your way next to Javi, standing beside him as you leaned down to press a kiss onto Lucas’s forehead before doing the same to Javi. “Well, I guess whatever was wrong, he’s fine now. He must have just needed you to hold him. Which, I really can’t complain about.” 

You should have felt at least a little guilty for subjecting your infant nephew to the now palpable tension flooding the guest room, completely lost in your own world as you soaked in every ounce of watching Javi cradle Lucas in his broad grasp, using all your self restraint to keep from pouncing on him. You were so lost in your fantasy, that you hadn’t even heard Charlie and Natalie make their way back through the front door, down the hallway and into the guest room. 

“You babysat and knocked both the gremlins on their asses out cold? Man, I really do owe you two.” Charlie’s voice startled you, making you gasp as you whipped your head around to see him standing in the doorway. “She’s got you on baby duty too, Jav? Goddamn, I owe you a beer, man. Honestly something stronger than that. Here, I’ll take him.” Charlie laughed, reaching out to grab his son as Javi slowly stood, carefully holding Lucas as he rose out of his seat, passing him off to your brother. “Thanks, man. You lookin’ to throw down tomorrow? David’s got the day off, and since dad’s retired, he has put every ounce of time and effort into the ice rink since the weather has gotten below freezing. I think he’s hoping the NHL will come and scout him for his backyard rink building skills.”

“Uh, yeah- yeah, for sure. We’re up for whatever.” You replied, still distracted by the sight of Javi, not even holding your nephew anymore, but the image still fresh and burning in your brain. “Hey, uh, did Mom and Dad say when they were gonna be home?” Watching Charlie collect Lucas’s things from the guest room in his free arm, you shot Javi a desperate look, filled with need and want, biting down on your lip to see his gaze match yours. 

Unaware of yours and Javi’s silent exchange, Charlie picked up Lucas’s bag, shuffling it on his shoulder as he responded. “Uh shit, I don’t know. I mean, they’re going out with Gary and Marcella, which means at this point, that Gary’s got dad 6 Irish Car Bombs deep and Mom and Marcella are probably asleep on the bar, my guess is not for a while.” He chuckled, giving you a suspicious look as you nodded in agreement, Charlie looking back and forth between you and Javi, now picking up on the undeniable tension. “Just don’t fuck in my old room, okay?” 

“Fuck off, Charlie. Your room still probably reeks of all your old hockey gear you refused to wash anyways.” You sighed, grimacing at him, trying to keep your face from turning any brighter red than it already was. 

“Night lovebirds. Thanks again for watching the gremlins. See you tomorrow?” He smirked, winking at you and Javi before slipping out the door, leaving you two standing alone in the guest room. 

“Good night, you guys! Thank you again!” Natalie shouted from down the hallway, you and Javi still standing frozen in place as you heard the front door open and close, locking behind your family traveling out of it. 

From the moment you knew the door was closed, you practically pounced on Javi, grabbing fistfulls of his shirt as your mouth met his with an electric intensity. Your lips crashed together as Javi ran his hands down your body, grabbing you under your thighs as your legs wrapped around the small of his back, hands tugging at the dark curls of his hair. “I need you so bad.” You moaned, your words barely escaping your lips above a whisper. 

“You sure your parents are gonna be home soon?” Javi groaned, making his way out of the guest room before carrying you down the hallway, your kisses still rushed and frantic as he made his way up the stairs towards your room. 

“What are we, 15? Charlie’s right, they’re both drunk off their asses so they won’t be back for hours, and even if they weren’t, I wouldn’t care. Fuck, watching you hold that baby did things to me.” Using his back to push open your bedroom door, Javi threw you down onto your bed, already shedding his shirt as you bounced on the mattress, a hungry look in his eyes as he reached down to practically rip your clothes off your body, tossing them in a heap on the floor. 

  “Yeah?” He smirked, hovering over you, trapping your body under his as he planted his hands into the mattress on either side of your head. He dipped his head down, slowly kissing his way up your body, his lips hot and heavy on your skin as they traveled up your stomach towards your breasts, swirling each pebbled nipple with his tongue, releasing with a wet pop, taking his sweet time as he worked his way up the exposed skin of your collarbone. “You like that? The thought of me putting a baby in you? Making me a dad?” You could feel his devilish grin pressed against your neck between his nips at your pulse point, basking in the power he knew his words had to make you lose your mind before even laying a finger on you. 

“Holy fuck…” You whimpered, already writhing beneath him, the ache building between your legs desperate to be filled even before Javi had begun whispering sweet nothings against your skin. “Javi, please, Jesus Christ.” You could feel yourself growing impatient as he toyed with you, working you up to the point of becoming unbearably needy before his hands had even met your body, getting you exactly where he wanted you. 

“Please what, Osita? Don’t think I heard you answer my question yet.” Javi mewled, a smug grin spreading across his face as he began to trail his kisses back down your body, finally bringing his hands to knead at the soft flesh of your breasts, rolling your nipples between his fingers, making you gasp, now only finding it harder to find the words for a coherent sentence. 

“Yes. Fuck. Fuck, I want you to put a baby in me so bad. Jesus, I’ll have as many of your babies as you want.” You paused, lifting your head up to watch Javi, sinking down to his knees at the end of the bed, nudging your legs open as he draped them over his shoulders, now satisfied with your answer. He looked up at you, noticing the equally big smirk on your face as you bit down on your lip. “You really want me to make you a daddy, huh?” 

Two could play at this game. 

As much as you joked about it, that one sent the blood flow straight to his cock, now painfully straining against the denim of his jeans, making him have to bite his tongue to keep from audibly groaning. “Fuckk meee.” He whispered, shaking his head before locking his arms over your legs, scooting you closer to him, now coming face to face with the worked up and dripping mess you had already become. “Seems like the answer to that question is already between your legs, baby. Pretty fucking pussy’s soaked and I haven’t even touched you yet.” 

“Javi, Jesus Christ, pleaseeeee.” You moaned, nearly bucking your hips at him in your desperate state. 

“Please, who?” Javi smirked, darting his eyes up at you, making you tremble as you felt the strong arch of his nose bump against your clit. 

“Seriously?” You huffed, rolling your eyes at Javi 1- for making you wait any damn longer, and 2- knowing the answer to his question, even if you only used it jokingly with him. Javi raised an eyebrow at you, letting out a little shrug that lifted your legs draped over his shoulders, waiting for your response. 

“Please, daddy.” 

“There ya go, baby.” 

“Asshole.” 

“Wasn’t planning on venturing there today, but can if you want me to.” 

“Jesus Christ… Javi, for the love of God, please, just fuck me. I am dying up here.” You sighed, laughing to yourself to ward off the impatient mess Javi had turned you into with his antics. 

“Wow, someone’s needy, hmmm? You want me to fuck you, sweet girl? Sure you don’t need me to-” 

“I need you so bad, Javi.” Sitting up on your elbows, you reached in front of you, trying to bend over the edge of the bed to prompt him to stand up so you could tug at the waistband of his jeans and unbutton his pants. Following your request, Javi rose up, now almost as frantic as you as he began to push his pants and his boxers down his legs, letting them pool around his ankles before stepping out of them, cupping his his hands around your cheeks, pressing his mouth against yours as his tongue swiped along your bottom lip. Just like that, his cool and collected facade had faded, leaving him just as worked up and wanting as you, his hands roaming every inch of your body before gently pushing you down to lay with your back on the mattress, prompting you to bring your knees to your chest as he stood at the edge of the bed. Reaching down to stroke himself, Javi lined his cock up with your dripping heat, collecting your arousal as his tip slid through your folds before pressing into you, the sweet stretch making you whimper. With how worked up you’d been, Javi slid in easily, flushing his hips against yours, his tip brushing along your cervix, pausing for a moment, buried deep inside of you. 

Before you could say anything, he pulled back out, setting a pounding pace as he thrusted in and out of you, his fingertips gripping at the meat of your thighs as they pressed against your chest. The fullness of his cock ramming into had you whining, your jaw going slack as stared up at Javi’s broad body hovering over you, the muscles of his arms flexing as he leaned further into you, snaking one of his hands between your legs to circle at your clit. “This what you wanted, Hermosa? Fuck you like the good girl you are? Fuck you like I’m gonna fuck a baby into you?” 

You nodded frantically, your mind going blank with each push and pull of his length sliding from your heat and rub of his fingers against your throbbing bundle of nerves, relishing in the sweet sound of Javi’s thighs slapping against yours, over and over. “Yes- fuck- oh my god, yes. Fuck, you feel so good, Javi. I want more. Baby, please, fuck me harder.” 

Your request had Javi’s eyes going wide, letting out a low groan through gritted teeth, his pace still relentless as he gazed down at you, watching you nod your head in silent reassurance. “Fuck. Turn around, Osita.” He hissed as he pulled out, watching you flip over as your chest laid on the mattress and stuck your ass out, Javi instinctively gripping his fingers into the soft flesh of your hips as he guided himself back into your cunt, the both of you moaning as he filled you with the delicious sting of his cock. He began snapping his hips against your ass, feeling you press yourself back deeper onto him with each thrust, knowing he was buried well within the spot that would have you teetering on the brink of coming undone. The lewd noises between your bodies fill the room- your hungry moans, the slapping of your skin, the wetness of your throbbing cunt as Javi pounded into you repeatedly, the filthy words falling from his mouth as he dug his fingers deeper into your hips.

“Fuck Javi, oh my god. Fuck, don’t stop. Don’t stop baby. Fuckkkk.” You whimpered, feeling the delicious tingle beginning to build at the base of your spine and your pussy starting to flutter. Javi wasn’t sure what it was- maybe it was the fact that you had practically begging him to fuck you, then give you more. Maybe it was watching you all fucked out and moaning beneath him. Maybe, it was the fact that watching you hold that baby made him want to give you your own. Whatever it was, something feral, almost primal ignited in him, reaching his arm underneath you to pull you up, pressing your back against his chest, wrapping his hands around your body, like he needed you as close as he could have you. One hand grasped at your breast, squeezing the plush skin between his fingers while the other draped across your waist, the heel of his palm rubbing against your throbbing clit as he feverishly fucked into you.  

 “I’m not gonna stop, Osita. Not gonna stop until you cum around my cock and I fuck myself so deep inside of you, I’m dripping out of you for days. Fuck myself so deep inside of you, maybe’ll fucking beat your birth control, huh? You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” 

You could feel your body beginning to tremble as the coil in your belly snapped, your orgasm ripping through you with an intensity that made your back arch against Javi’s chest, and legs shake, screaming his name as your cunt clenched tighter and tighter around his cock as the pleasure washed over you. It was only a few more thrusts before Javi was chasing his own high, ramblings of incoherent Spanish and English falling from his lips as he spilled deep inside of you, milking himself of every last drop with one final pump, feeling the mixture of your spend dripping down your thighs as your chests rose and fell in sync, the two of you trying to catch your breath as you hunched over against the bed. 

“Holy fuck…” You whispered, quietly laughing to yourself, laying face down on the bed as Javi grabbed the box of tissues from your dresser, unfamiliar where anything else was to help clean the two of you up, gently wiping the mess between your legs before throwing the wad of kleenex into the trash can. You crawled under the covers, smirking at Javi and biting down on the tip of your thumb as he made his way back to you. 

“What’s that look for?” He asked, chuckling to himself, sneaking under the covers next to you, squeezing his way into the cramped space that was your full-sized childhood bed. You draped your arm across his waist, resting your head on the bare skin of his chest, tracing gentle circles on his side as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you in tighter. 

“Holding that baby really did something to ya, huh?” You giggled, giving him a little playful shake in your grasp. 

“Did something to me? Says the one who was literally begging me to fuck her from the moment your brother picked up the kids and left.” Javi chuckled, gently stroking the messy ends of your hair through his fingers, nudging you back. 

“Okay, but can you blame me? Have you seen yourself hold a baby? Jesus Christ, Jav.” The both of you laughed, laying together for a moment before you felt Javi take a deep breath, your face rising and falling with the exhale of his chest. 

“Do you- Do you ever worry that I’m not gonna be a good dad?” Javi mumbled, his shaky voice barely above a whisper as he fidgeted with his fingers, his thumb carefully running over his knuckles. You paused for a second, almost wondering if you had misheard him, tilting your head up at him, shocked by the genuine concern pooling in his dark brown eyes. You pushed up on your elbows, resting your hand on his cheek to force his gaze onto yours. 

“Javi… Baby, are you serious?” You couldn’t help but almost laugh at the question, wondering how in the world Javi could be asking it with sincerity. He sat silent for a moment, his eyes darting away from yours, a small frown drawn between his lips. “Javi. Of course I think you’re gonna be a good dad. Why- Jav, why would you think that?” You brought your other hand to his face, drawing his attention back to you, trying to reassure him with your soft and sweet voice. 

Javi let out another sigh, anxiously chewing on his lip. “I just- I don’t know. I’ve done a lot of fucked up things. Things I’m not proud of. Holding that baby today made me realize how goddamn terrified I am that I’m gonna do something to fuck up. I’d do anything for you or our family, I just- fuck. What if it isn’t enough? What if I’m not good enough?” 

You could almost feel your heart shatter from the dismay of Javi’s words, immediately wrapping your arms around him and squeezing him as tightly as you could to comfort him, resting your head in the crook of his neck. “Javier Jesús Peña. Look at me.” You grabbed his face again, forcing him to let out a little laugh at your sarcastically stern tone. “Javi, there is no one else on the face of this earth I want to be the father of my children more than you. And not just because you’re gonna be the hottest dilf I’ve ever seen.” 

“Dilf?” Javi raised an eyebrow at you in confusion. 

“Dad I’d like to fuck. Jav, you are the sweetest, most thoughtful man I have ever met. You are so good with Olivia and Bri and Lucas, the Murphy girls, even my class of buffoons you were so patient and kind to. The fact that you even care enough to worry about these kinds of things tells me you’re gonna be the most amazing dad. I love you, Javi.” You smiled softly, pressing a tender kiss onto his lips, twisting your fingers through the dark curls at the nape of his neck. 

“I love you too, Osita. God, you’re gonna be the best mom. Our kids are gonna be so fucking lucky.” Javi grinned, gently brushing a strand of hair out of your face, the tension beginning to release from his body. 

“Oh believe me, I worry all the time that I’m not gonna be a good mom either. Knowing what a little menace I was as a kid, plus all the crazy little demons I’ve worked with throughout teaching… I’ve learned a lot of ways to not be a good parent, but I still always worry that I’m gonna end up raising a little Miguel who tries to hot glue his hands together or shove crayons up his nose and makes his teacher wanna cry everyday.” The two of you laughed, shaking your heads thinking of some of the many horror stories Javi had heard and you had witnessed over the years from children you were very glad were only your responsibility for one school year. 

“I hope our kids are like you.” 

“Really? You want our kids to be sarcastic, stubborn pains in our asses?” You teased, giving Javi a little nudge. “They better get your good looks if they’re gonna have my personality.” 

“Shut up, you dork.” He sighed, prodding you back, gently tickling your ribcage, making you giggle and squirm before wrapping his arms back around you, pulling you tightly against his chest. “Sometimes I still can’t fucking believe it.” 

“Believe what, ya goof?” 

“This. You. That I’m gonna fucking marry you. That you wanna give me a family and spend the rest of your life with me. That you fucking love me. I’d thought I’d given up on all this shit a long time ago. I’m really glad I didn’t have to.” 

“I’m really glad you didn’t have to either.” 

“Jesus Christ, could you not be so loud?!” Your dad whined, scrunching his brow in pain as he rubbed his temples with the worn callouses of his fingers as you and Javi made your way down the stairs, meandering into the kitchen. 

“Good morning to you too.” You laughed, reaching up to grab coffee mugs for you and Javi, as he leaned down, patting your dad on the back to greet him. 

“Hey, good to see you Mr.-” 

“For fucks sake, please- Jav, buddy, I love ya, I swear to God, if you keep talking so loud, I’m gonna sock you in the face.” A dramatic wince spread across your dad’s brow, pinching the bridge of his nose, holding up his free hand to stop Javi from speaking any further. 

“Fun night last night?” You snickered, setting down a warm cup of coffee for you and Javi as the two of you pulled up chairs at the kitchen table where your dad was sulking. 

“Well someone seems to think that every time he goes out drinking with Gary, he’s 21 again and isn’t going to suffer the consequences of endless Irish Car Bombs the next day.” Stumbling into the kitchen to join you, your mom grumbled as she wrapped her robe tighter around her chest, her look equally as disheveled as your dad’s. “Good to see you two, but what your dad said, not so loud, please.” Your mom sat down next to you, letting out a loud groan, reaching over to steal a swig of Javi’s coffee. “Sorry honey, you’re family now, and I’m hungover as shit.” 

“The coffee’s all yours.” Javi chuckled, pushing the mug over to your mom. 

“So what are all you idiots up to today?” Greg mumbled, taking a sip of his own coffee, trying his best to be interested in your presence, despite his pounding headache. 

“About to put that ice rink of yours to good use, old man.” David laughed, hands outstretched for high fives from you and Javi as he burst through the front door towards the kitchen. 

“Will you keep it down, you motherfucker? You won’t be alive to make it to the backyard if you keep screaming like that.” You could feel the annoyance radiating from your dad as he buried his face in his hands.

“Love you too, dad.” David snickered, giving your dad a hearty slap on the back, playing into his post-drinking pain. 

“Do you guys actually have an ice rink in your backyard?” Javi asked, trying to peer out the window over the kitchen sink to see if this was just your family trying to pull one over on him. 

“Yes, actually. Since we have such a big backyard, my dad decided to build one when Charlie first started skating, and it’s been there every winter ever since. I’m pretty sure Dad loves that rink more than he loves his own kids.” You laughed, rolling your eyes as Charlie slapped your dad, making him let out a long, exasperated sigh. 

“Honey, that is not true, your dad loves you very much!” 

“Right now I love the rink more than them. You know why? Because the rink is silent. It’s not yelling in my goddamn ear. She’s a beauty this year. Best it’s ever looked.” Your dad nodded, a slight grin building under the pain of his hangover. 

“I’ll believe it when I see it, Gregory.” Standing up out of his chair, David grabbed your dad by the shoulders, giving him another hardy slap on the back before heading back to the front door, returning with his skates, hockey gloves, and stick. “You guys ready? Charlie and Olivia should be here soon too.” 

“Only if you’re ready for me to kick your ass.” You smirked, joining David as you stood, leaving Javi still sitting in his chair, looking utterly terrified. “C’mon!” Outstretching your arm towards Javi, encouraging him to stand up with you and your brother, he slowly pushed himself out of his chair, wearily looking back and forth between the both of you. 

“I don’t uh- I don’t have any skates?” Javi grimaced, trying to think of an excuse for the inevitable embarrassment he knew he would be subjected to if anything other than shoes were on his feet. 

“Don’t worry, you’re not getting out of this one so easily, Jav. If there is one thing my parents will never get rid of, it’s skates, and I’m pretty sure we have at least one pair in every size known to man in the basement. You two go change, I’ll grab the gear.” David snickered, sneaking his way between you two towards the basement stairs, loudly pounding down each step. 

“Not so loud David, Jesus! Your feet are made of fucking cement!” Greg sighed, laying face down into the table, you and Javi trying to contain your laughter as you headed back upstairs to change. 

The forecast for today called for sunny skies and just below freezing- the type of day that was made for outdoor fun in the snow that came few and far between in Chicago’s cold and cloudy winters. Shuffling through your bag, you pulled out your thickest pair of leggings, along with a heavy heather gray hoodie, topped with one of the 3 Blackhawks jerseys still stashed at home in your childhood bedroom and your favorite Blackhawks beanie that had gone untouched since you had moved to Texas, not feeling the need to bring warm weather accessories with you. 

“Do you put the coat on over the jersey?” Javi asked, shuffling through his suitcase, looking for another layer to add over his long sleeved shirt, trying to brace himself for more than 30 seconds out in the cold. 

“Nope, no coat. It’s a balmy 29 today, Jav, that’s no jacket weather. Welcome to a midwest winter, babe.” You laughed, pressing up on your tiptoes to give him a quick kiss as you readjusted your hat on your head, making your way out the door, letting out a squeal as Javi brought his hand down to your ass, giving it a playful slap. 

“You look fucking hot in that jersey.” Javi bit down on his lip as he looked you up and down, raising an eyebrow at you as you whipped your head back around. 

“If you think trying to butter me up with compliments is gonna get you out of putting skates on, you are sadly mistaken, Mr. Peña.” You giggled as Javi pulled you back in, wrapping his arms around your hips, planting another soft kiss on your lips, his hand cupping your face. 

“A man can try, can’t he?” 

“C’mon, goofball, it’s hockey time.” 

“Auntie Bear, Auntie Bear! Watch me do my backwards skating! Watch, watch! I’m getting so good!” Olivia squealed as she watched you and Javi make your way out to the backyard through the path that had been plowed from the house to the homemade ice rink, which, all credit to your dad, looked better than any year you could remember it before. You and Javi clapped and cheered as you watched Olivia clumsily glide backwards across the ice, making it about halfway before plopping on her bottom and falling. “Oops! Okay, Auntie Bear, pretend you didn’t see that part!” 

“Nice job, Missy! You’re gonna be skating faster than me soon!” You grinned, sitting yourself down on the worn picnic table that had been your family’s skate tying station for more than 2 decades, pulling out your skates, gloves and stick, along with the pair David had picked out for Javi. You kicked off your boots, slipping on your skates and yanking the laces, the familiar squeeze of your foot inside for the first time in over a year bringing a childlike grin to your face. “You want any help?” You asked, looking over at Javi, unconfidently lacing up the rest of his skates. 

“I can help you, Uncle Javi! I’m helping Bri Bri learn how to skate since she doesn’t know how to either!” Olivia shouted from the other side of the rink, waving her arms at the two of you. 

“Just need help not getting my pride bruised by a 6 year old who can skate better than I can.” Javi sighed, pressing his hands on his thighs as he stood up, trying his best not to wobble at the lack of stability. “You have to promise not to laugh at me…” Taking another step towards the rink, Javi mumbled under his breath, looking over at you. 

“I promise… To only laugh a little.” You smirked, speeding off across the ice, using your stick to grab one of the pucks from the pile that had formed along the edges of the snowbank walls. Dragging it along the frozen surface, you weaved it between Charlie’s legs without him even noticing, speeding past him before he even had a chance to stop you. David, who could now see you coming, put himself in the way of your path, holding his stick out to try and snatch your puck for the rest of your lap. Cradling it in your stick, you shuffled the black rubber back and forth, giving it a backhanded nudge, spinning around and taking the puck with you as you flew past your brother. Making your way around the last curve of the rink, you swooped around, facing yourself towards the net, drew your stick back and slapped the puck into the goal. 

“She shoots, she scores! Go Auntie Bear!” Olivia squealed, pumping her fists in the air as you skated back around to grab her, hoisting her up off the ice, giving her a little shake before gently setting her down and making your way back to Javi. 

“Showoff…” Javi laughed, trying his best to roll his eyes despite his genuine admiration for how impressed he was with what he had just watched you do. 

“Sorry, I’m done now. Gotta put everyone back in their place now that I’m home.” You smirked, giving Javi a little shrug as you nodded towards the rink. “C’mon-I promise I won’t laugh at you, I swear. At least for the first part.” 

You weren’t sure if it was Javi trying to muster every ounce of athletic talent that he had in his body, or simply the fact that he was just as stubborn as you (even if he wouldn’t admit it), but after only a few wipeouts (and some helpful tips from Olivia), Javi making his way around on skates well enough to not be completely embarrassed for his first time on the ice. It didn’t take long for skating to turn into grabbing fist fulls of snow from the edge of the rink, pressing them into snowballs and hurling them at one another, all of you slipping and sliding across the ice in laughter and hysterics from your battle. After a quick break inside for hot chocolate, Olivia had somehow roped you and Javi back outside to build a snowman before she went home, insisting that her Uncle Javi needed to learn how to make one since he never had before.  

3 hefty balls of snow and several carefully selected sticks later, your snowman was nearly complete, You, Javi and Olivia taking a step back to admire your work, assessing what final touches needed to be added before you could call your project completed. “Alright, cutie pie. What else does our snowman need so we can finish?” You asked, shaking Olivia’s shoulders as she took her mitten covered hands to scratch her head, deep in thought as she analyzed your creation. 

“Hmmmmm. It still needs eyes… and a nose… and a name!” Olivia beamed, looking up at you and Javi. 

“Well, I think we can find some rocks for eyes, and I bet you can ask Grandma and Grandpa for an extra reindeer carrot for the nose, and we’ll let you decide on the name, Little Miss!” You smiled as Javi draped his arm over your shoulder, pulling you in closer to press a little kiss onto your beanie while Olivia had turned back around to gaze at her snowman. 

“I think… I think that his name should be Uncle Patrick! So that way he can still be here because I bet he misses playing hockey, and he’s really close to the ice rink. Do you think he misses us, Auntie Bear?” 

Over the past year, you had learned to deal with the comments and questions about your brother with less pain and suffering and more acceptance and forgiveness. Unfortunately, there was nothing from the past year that could have prepared you for the sucker punch that was your sweet, 6 year old niece, who didn’t even fully grasp the concept of death, let alone the reason why he was gone, to ask if your dead brother missed her. You took a shaky breath, trying to compose yourself before you spoke, fighting back the tears that had instantly begun welling in your eyes and pit growing in your stomach. 

“I uh- yeah, um. Yeah. I do think he misses us, Olivia.” You mustered everything you could to spread somewhat of a smile as Olivia turned back around towards you and Javi, a puzzled, sad look growing across her little face. 

“Then why did he have to leave if he misses us? Did he not love us?” 

You weren’t quite sure how a tiny voice had left such a big hole in your heart. You tried to find any words to answer her innocent question, racking your brain for ways to provide any explanation that you could rationalize to her, or yourself. 

“Well, um…” You paused, taking a moment to get down on her level, almost as if to try and find a way to buy yourself more time to formulate your response. “Um- Olivia- Your Uncle Patrick… he was really sick. Not in a way that you get sick when you have a cold, or the flu, but sick in a way that makes your brain and your heart really sad. He did love us. He loved us a lot. But sometimes- sometimes when people are sick like how Uncle Patrick was- It… it doesn’t matter how much they love you, or you love them. Their heart hurts so much that they can’t see it. It- it hurt his heart less to leave than to stay.” 

A bitter silence hung in the air, the wetness from your eyes cold against your cheeks from the sting of the December breeze. You could feel the weight in your heart tugging towards the pit of your stomach from your painful admittance. You took a shaky breath, waiting for someone to say something, anything, before the hurt in your own heart built enough for you to lose your composure and burst into tears. You could almost hear the gears in Olivia’s little brain turning, her head gently tilted to the side, leaving you holding your breath as you waited for her response. She let out a little sigh, staring at the ground before staring back up at you. 

“I miss him, Auntie Bear.” 

“I miss him too, Olivia.” 

Reaching her arms up, Oliva wrapped herself around your waist, tightly hugging your hip, pressing her face into your jacket. The two of you stood there for a moment, tears welling in your eyes as you engulfed your niece in your grasp.

“Olivia! Time to go, munchkin! Momma’s gonna be mad if we’re late for dinner!” Charlie yelled, peeking his head out of the doorwall to the back porch, the glow of the house gently shining into the snow against the slowly darkening sky. 

“Okay, Daddy!” Olivia called back, lifting her head up from against your coat where her face had been resting. “Bye Auntie Bear! Love you!” 

“Uh-yeah, yeah, bye Cutie. Love you, too.” You stammered, choking back your tears, staring at the unfinished snowman in front of you. 

“Olivia, why don’t uh, why don't I take you inside, okay?” Javi chimed in, gently wrapping his arm around Olivia’s shoulder, ushering her towards the house, shooting you a sympathetic smile, trying to find a way to give you a moment to yourself. The two of them made their way back to the house, stomping through the snow as you were left alone, silent sobs heaving from your chest. The longer you looked at the three snowballs piled on top of each other, the wetter your face became, the unfinished piles of snow, just as unfinished as the life Patrick could have had ahead of him. So caught up in your grief and tears, you hadn’t heard Javi trudge his way back, immediately wrapping his arms around you as soon as he could reach you, holding you tightly as you sobbed into his coat. 

“Why’d he have to go? Why did it have to be him? It’s not fair. It’s not fucking fair. I miss him so much, Javi.” 

“I know, baby. I know.” Javi sighed, pulling you in closer, pressing you against his chest, letting you soak his jacket with your tears until you didn’t have any left, your breaths becoming slow and deep as you finally looked back up at him with your red, wet eyes. 

“Does it ever get easier? Does it ever stop hurting so much?” Your voice trembled, sniffing between each word, trying to pull yourself together. Javi paused for a moment, letting out a long exhale, his hot breath fogging against the cold December air. 

“It’ll- it’ll always hurt. I don’t know if it ever gets easier, but you learn how to live with it. But if there’s anything I’ve learned, it’s that being mad about it only makes it hurt more.” 

“Well I am mad at him, ‘cause he’s a fucking idiot.” You managed to let a small huff of laughter out between your tears, bringing your hand up to wipe your face, cheeks red and wet from your crying and the cold. “Sorry, I just… Olivia hasn’t talked about him a lot since he died, it- I was trying really hard not to think about it. Tomorrow will be one year since he’s been gone. It kinda all just hit me at once. Stupid fucking snowman.” 

 “Osita, you don’t have to apologize. It’s okay, baby. And hey, I think whoever made those snowballs did pretty good fucking job.” He smirked, giving you a little shake in his grasp, as the two of you looked back at the snowman.

“Yeah, he did alright.” You let out a little laugh, poking fun at Javi’s work before turning as you heard David’s footsteps clunking his way through the snow, making his way towards you. 

“Olivia make you cry about the stupid snowman, too?” David sighed, gesturing at your messy wet face before nodding back at the snowman, the 3 of you silently laughing to yourselves. “God, I miss that stupid motherfucker.” 

“Yeah. Me too.” 

“You missed out on the best rink Dad’s ever made, shithead. Your loss. You’re lucky your niece is nice enough to still want to include you. Serves you right she left you with skinny ass twig arms and an unfinished face.” David huffed, playfully kicking a pile of snow at the snowman, crossing his arms over his chest. “Jesus, I can’t believe I’m shit talking my dead brother beyond the grave through a fucking pile of snow.” 

“Like he wouldn’t do the same for you?” You smirked, giving David a punch on the arm as he rolled his eyes at you, shoving you back with enough force to make you stumble, toppling you over into a laughing heap in the snow. Sitting up, you looked over at the hockey rink, shimmering in the overcast of the porch lights, covered in the pucks and sticks that had been left from earlier. You smiled, pushing yourself out of the snow, making your way over to the ice and picking up one of the hockey sticks, dragging it back with you before propping it up against the frame of the snowman to make it look like he was holding it. “Can’t say we didn’t at least try to include you, jackass.” 

You let out a long exhale, nodding to yourself, a small smile drawn between your lips as you looked back at David and Javi, giving them a reassuring grin before turning around to head towards the house. Giving their own silent nod to the snowman, David and Javi followed behind, the 3 of you trudging through the white, fluffy snow, crunching under your boots.

The rest of your time at home, you couldn’t help but find yourself peeking out the back porch window, a silent smile creeping across your cheeks as you watched gentle white flakes fall on the snowman sitting in your yard, hockey stick resting in its twig hand as it sat next to your rink. It was a sight that somehow hurt and healed you at the same time. It pained you to know that a half-assed snowman in your backyard would be the closest you’d ever get to having your brother around again- that just like him, one day, as the weather turned, your snowman would start to fade away, melt into the earth, and disappear, never to be seen again.

But, just as seasons come and go, bringing change with each new month, you couldn’t help but feel your heart grow warm as you looked out at the rounded piles of snow stacked on one another- Patrick’s passing had forced you to change, to grow, to become a stronger person than you were a year ago. Change that had started off as fear and heartache, that somehow turned into the best thing that could have ever happened to you. Change that helped you find the love of your life when you least expected it. While Javi could never replace Patrick, his presence in your life, and your family’s life, had filled a void that all of you didn’t know you needed until he was in it. And while you’d never stop wishing you could have changed the end to your brother’s story, you knew he’d be smiling looking down on you, knowing the end of his story helped to change yours for the better.

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[mrsmarinara]

haunted house with quinn

49. “If you get scared, don’t come crying to me.”

October was the best part of the year in your opinion. Autumn was amazing but it was only around Halloween that certain activities were available. Last year you and Quinn went to a corn maze, bobbed for apples, and even went to a fright fest. You had to leave the last one early because as much as you enjoyed the spooky atmosphere you might have been a little too frightened to finish it.

Earlier in the month you had gone to a pumpkin patch and picked apples and you had even gotten Quinn to wear matching costumes with you.

It had taken you months to figure out how you could possibly top last year's fun and when you finally thought you had found it you brought the idea to your boyfriend.

“You want to do a haunted house?” Quinn looked at you quizzically.

You pushed your phone into his space a bit more as if he couldn’t see the information clearly enough.

“Yeah, it’ll be tons of fun.” You said, excitedly. “Afterwards they have a scary movie marathon starting with Child’s play and ending with Nightmare on Elm’s street. They even have another corn maze that we can do if we go early enough.”

“It took us forever to get through the one last year.”

“Yeah, but this one has people in costume chasing you through it,” you pointed to the screen and finally he took your phone to scroll through the website you had up.

“Don’t you think this might be too scary for you?” He asked as he handed the phone back to you.

You frowned at him and crossed your arms over your chest.

“I’m a big girl, Quinny, I can handle it.”

He only raised one of his dark eyebrows at you and said, “I’ll go but if you get scared don’t come crying to me.”

A large smile split across your face as you jumped in excitement. You kissed his cheek and when you pulled back you nodded your head enthusiastically, “Deal!”

-

You had made it through the corn maze successfully, beating last year's time by two minutes. Quinn claimed it was the man dressed as an evil clown chasing them but that didn’t matter to you because you still beat your personal record.

You were practically bouncing as the two of you waited in line for your turn to enter the haunted house. Lights were strobing and loud scary noises were playing and it only made you more excited. You didn’t miss the exasperated but fond looks Quinn was giving you and when it was finally your turn to enter you grabbed his hand and tugged him behind you.

You refused to admit that Quinn was right. You lasted all of two minutes before you were too scared and were let out of a side entrance. The people working there were understanding and despite Quinn’s claim that you couldn’t come crying to him, you were wrapped up in his arms as tears fell down your face and you got your breathing to even out.

“I really thought I could do it this year,” you mumbled into his chest.

Quinn ran his hand through your hair and sun circles into your back as you shook.

“Maybe we can go home and watch Halloweentown or something. That always puts you in a good mood.”

You perked up at the mention of one of your favorite childhood Halloween movies. Pulling away slightly to look up into your boyfriend's eyes you smiled slightly. “We could even have hot chocolate?”

“Of course,” he said simply as he wiped the remaining tears from your face.

It wasn’t until the two of you were back in his car that you finally said what you had been thinking about since exiting the haunted house.

“Maybe next year will be the year that I finally make it through that place.”

Quinn looked at you in surprise before finally shaking his head and chuckling. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with you.”

#quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes #nhl imagine #my writing

[eagerbby]

Linger | Part 1

pairing| Eddie Munson x older!female reader

synopsis| A unknowing game of cat and mouse with your younger neighbor, who can't seem to hold on to his house key, leads to feelings you don't want to admit and actions you can't take back. Not that you'd want to, anyway.

an| admittedly I've been working on this far too long, since October to be exact. I wasn't seeing a lot of older!reader fics and as a 26 year old I wanted to explore a dynamic between Eddie and someone older. I hope you enjoy and be ready for part 2 which will be even more filthy than this!

warnings| 7k, eddie is 20-21, female masterbation, eddie is persistent as fuck, stubborn!R, drug use (weed), reader is kinda bitchy but eddie likes it. MDI

“Eddie?” 

“Hey, princess. It’s fucking freezing out here.” He smiles at you as a cold gust of wind blows past him and straight into your bones. Behind him the sun is setting into a tangerine colored, cotton candy sky. 

“Lose your key again?” You ask, shivering in only a shirt and shorts, huddled behind the screen door with your arms wrapped tight across your chest. 

Eddie shrugs sheepishly from the other side of the screen door, but his crooked grin tells you everything you need to know. 

"Yeah," he rubs the back of his neck as he peers up at you through his lashes with puppy dog eyes. "I think I forgot it at The Hideout last night."

With a sigh and a halfhearted roll of your eyes you motion him in, smiling to yourself as you walk back to the sudsy dish water you had been wrist deep in when he'd first knocked.

"Starting to think maybe you should tie that key of yours around your neck." You quip as he settles himself at the little dinner table tucked into the corner of your kitchen. 

It’s not a very big kitchen, smaller than your bedroom even, which means the ‘corner of the kitchen’ is only five feet from the L shaped counter. If you took two steps backwards you’d be in his lap. The thought has your stomach fluttering.

"Uncle Wayne said the same thing." He chuckles. "Says I'm costing him a fortune in key making." 

"This is a common occurrence for you, huh?"

"No, not common... maybe like the sixth time…this year." 

"Jesus Christ, Eddie." You laugh, wiping your hands off on the dish towel as you turn towards him. "Remind me not to ever hand you my keys." 

He smiles at you with this cheesy grin that makes your stomach flutter like a teenage girls, heat rushing to your face when you notice the way he's sitting. 

He’s leaned back in the walnut stained wooden chair, legs spread wide. His already tight black jeans stretched taut over his thick thighs and his worn Black Sabbath shirt has ridden up against the pale skin of his stomach, the dark line of his happy trail catching your eyes. It takes everything in you to look away, to not allow your eyes to stay glued to that sexy tuff of dark hair. 

You turn back to drain the sink, willing the heat in your face away. 

"Guess who's graduating this year?" He sounds jovial and you just can't help but tease him- just a little. Maybe it’ll ease the tension settling in the air of your kitchen. 

"Hello, Eddie. I'm fine, how are you?" You say while you begin wiping the counters down, stepping over his long outstretched legs. 

"Come on! Guess!" He urges, leaning forward to bump your elbow with his knuckles. You clench the rag in your hands tighter as you wipe down the stove. 

"Well, I don't know any high school boys, other than you, so I'm gonna need a list of names to run through first." 

"You're so mean to me." He says with high dramatics, taking the leather jacket he'd left here a couple days ago and tossing it over the back of a different chair.  

"Eddie, I let you hang out, smoke you up, and I feed your gangly ass. God, I'm such a horrible, evil person." Your voice runs an edge of seriousness as you tease him, throwing a look over your shoulder in the process. 

And, God, maybe you shouldn’t have looked back at him because he’s sitting there with his legs spread wide looking at you with that heavy simmer of his that you've started to notice and ignore. He's become a temptation, one you just can not fold to. It'd be wrong. You're older than him and he's still in high school, anything more than hanging out would leave you feeling dirty.

Unfortunately, you're not quite sure if it's a good kind of dirty or a bad kind. 

"You're the worst." He drawls, fiddling with his trusty zippo. "You devilish woman, you." 

The way he says it makes your spine tingle, makes you clench your thighs a little and hope he doesn't see. 

"You hungry, kid?" Maybe a change in subject will evaporate the building tension in your small kitchen. You dig through the fridge as he sits silently behind you. 

"You know I hate it when you call me that." His words mumbled when he finally speaks, sad almost, but he knows what you're doing. It wasn't like he couldn't feel the tension that was building between the two of you.

It starts off innocent enough. Three in the morning, dressed in only your silk robe and a pair of rain boots you'd found by your front door, you had trudged across the small gravel driveway between the two trailers and banged banged banged at the blue painted door. You didn't know your neighbor. You’d only lived in Hawkins a couple months at the time, but you did know that every night from 9 to 11 the sound of a wailing guitar was bound to rattle the fake crystal chandelier hung in your living room. Usually you could manage, put your tape deck on -drown it out- but that night the tinny punch didn't stop when the clock struck eleven or even at midnight. In fact it seemed to get even louder, like the person had turned the amp up, and you were fuming mad. 

The door swung open so hard and fast it startled you and before you could chastise the person for making such an unnecessary ruckus, they were already apologizing.

"I'm so sorry, I-I didn't realize how late it was." 

"You've been playing for hours, kid. Some of us have to work in the morning." 

That anger you had as you stomped over dissipated quickly as you looked at his frazzled expression. He was young, obviously a metal head considering the long hair and all black attire, but his big chocolate brown eyes begged for forgiveness as they blinked back at you.

"I really am sorry, Miss. I'm learning a new song and… I guess I just got carried away." God, poor kid looked like he was about to get cuffed and loaded into the back of a cop car.

"S'fine, just go back to your normal hours. That I can deal with." You start to step down the rickety porch steps before you turn quickly and point your manicured finger at him. His eyes widened. "And don't fucking call me Miss, my name's y/n."

After that he seemed to make it his mission to run into you whenever you weren't locked inside your trailer. From meeting at the mailbox, to offering to mow your grass -which you really didn't have much of- to sitting next to you as you tended to your garden. It wasn't until a stormy cold evening that you invited him in. He said he lost his key and his uncle worked at the plant all night and into the morning. You made him dinner, watched a movie, and set him up on the couch for the night. 

“Only this one time.” You'd said. “What do I look like letting a high schooler into my home?” 

Eddie loathes when you do that to him, even now, level him down to simply a high schooler. 

“I'm twenty.” He'd corrected, going as far as to show you his license. Sure enough he was, but you knew you couldn't let it go past a friendship. The town would think you'd corrupted him, they'd surely run you out with torches and pitchforks. Shit, they'd probably burn you at the stake. 

But something was starting to grow between you two. You thought at one point it was merely fondness for the strange kid who spoke in codes half the time and made a show out of everything he did. It didn't take you much longer after that, though, to realize what was really growing. Sprouting the weeds in your chest.

You wanted him.

God, did you feel horrible about that one.

It didn't matter that he was twenty, legal, an adult, there was such innocence inside him. Heart on his sleeve, kindness in his smile. Anything other than friendship was a no go. You'd ruin this kid, you just knew it. You didn't have the best track record with men and the last thing you wanted was to take this young man and break his heart before he could even experience what young love could feel like. 

Wasn't happening. It's what you kept telling yourself. It's why you'd call him kid, which he hated passionately and made sure to let you know. Why you wouldn't let him hug you like he begged and begged to do. Shit, it'd probably be easier to put on a chastity belt and call it a day. Every time you pushed him away, he'd barrel back head first. He was incredibly determined. 

You were playing a losing battle. 

"Sorry, bub. Forget sometimes." You toss halved tomatoes in a bowl of chopped lettuce, moving to place the cutting board and knife in the sink before going back to the fridge. 

You could feel his eyes boring into your ass as you bent to look through the crisper, hair standing up on end as you tried your hardest not to look back at him. You know what you'd see if you did and the last time you'd caught him staring the tarry blackness of his wide pupils almost knocked you to your knees. 

"Are you hungry, though?" You ask again, clearing your throat as you straighten your back and shut the fridge door. You make it a point not to look at him as you head back to the counter, an onion in one hand and a small pack of steaks in the other.

"Steak? Okay, I take back what I said before. You're an angel sent from heaven to save me." 

"Ha, maybe in your dreams." You try to joke back but you can feel his body heat again as he squats down beside you to grab the cast iron skillet from the cabinet. He puts it on the stove and smiles up at you. You hadn’t even heard him stand from the chair.

"Always in my dreams, sugar." 

His words send that sickly sweet rush of heat down into the pit of your belly. Your body so starved for a release it actually hurts. 

Why does he have to make this so hard? 

"So you're gonna graduate this year, huh?" Change the subject. Ignore the stupid fucking glint in his pretty brown eyes. It's starting to become a routine, really.

"I got a C in Mrs. O'Donnell's class, which isn't great I know, but it's enough for me to walk the stage." He raises back to his full height, looking down at you with that little smirk of his, watches as you peel the pale skin of the onion. "Will you come to graduation?"

You can't hide how his question surprises you, hands freezing against the clean cutting board, eyebrows furrowing together. 

"I really want you to." He adds, closing in on you. 

"Won't your uncle think it's weird some stranger is coming to watch his kid cross the stage?" 

"He knows about you." 

You drop the onion onto the board and it rolls off the counter when you turn to him.

"He knows about me? What's that mean?"

Eddie shrugs, so much closer than you expected him to be. You can smell the hint of smoke on his denim vest, see the deep vines of brown swirling his eyes. "I told him where I was that night I lost my key. He has this weird thing about me sleeping in my van, he hates it for some reason, so when he asked I just told him the truth."

"And?"

"And nothing." He laughs. "Why are you worried about what my uncle thinks?" 

"Uh, because he's your guardian and I don't want him to think I'm taking advantage or-or corrupting you."

Eddie bursts out in laughter, head falling forward into your shoulder before he's leaning back and wiping under his eye as if there's a tear. 

"God, sweetheart, you should be worried about the opposite. You haven't heard?" He leans in and narrows his eyes menacingly. His breath wafts over your cheek as he speaks. "I'm the town pariah. The town freak. Nobody is worried about ‘The Corruption of Eddie Munson’." 

“That’s not true.” Your voice is a hush whisper as you answer back, trying your hardest not to choke on your own damn tongue. You’re locked onto his unwavering gaze, his body unyielding as he steps closer somehow. Fuck, he’s so close, if you just lean up a couple inches your lips could capture his. 

No. Nope. Not happening. 

You lean away as his hand comes up to brush a stray hair behind your ear and the simple touch -the simple intimacy of the gesture- sends shivers across your hot skin. 

“Eddie.” You warn softly and he grins sheepishly. 

“Sorry, I can’t help myself.” His breathing is still a little shallow.

“Eddie.” 

“I’m sorry.” He takes a step back, far enough that he’s not almost pressed against you anymore but still close enough to feel the heat radiate off his body. 

“Can you rinse the onion for me?” 

With a nod he ducks to pluck the runaway vegetable from the floor before heading for the sink. He flips the tap on with a long finger and the hum of running water does nothing to drown the racing of your brain.

After a quiet dinner you find yourself sitting next to him on the couch, a rerun of Murder, She Wrote playing on the TV. Your brain is fuzzy from the weed he’d brought to share with you and you find yourself leaning against the backrest of the couch, eyes glued to him as he takes a big bong rip.

“You really want me to come?” You ask, voice soft and airy, and Eddie hacks as his head whips toward you. He looks like a cartoon bull with the way the smoke shoots from his nostrils.

“Huh?” He manages as he splutters, clutching the neckline of his shirt as if that would fill his lungs with air. 

“Do you really want me to come to graduation?” You ask again, handing your drink over to him and patting his back. He chugs the whole glass of Coca Cola, panting when he’s done. 

“Fuck, I hit that too hard.” 

“You’re about to be comatose off that hit.” You laugh, taking the glass as he hands it back to you. He settles back into the cushions with a lopsided grin on his face. 

“Just what I wanted.” He chimes, his black lashes fluttering against his cheeks as his eyes close. “What’d you ask me?” 

You go to repeat yourself before noticing just how soft his features have become, sleep inevitably pulling at him. You’ll talk to him tomorrow, you think as you stand from the couch.

“Go to sleep, Ed.” You whisper into the dim lit room, covering him with the blanket that had become balled up in his lap. 

“M’kay, nightie night.” He tucks his knees to his chest, nuzzling his face into the fabric of the couch and then he’s out, soft snores fluttering the stray string clinging to the blanket. 

Sleep doesn’t come easy, like most nights. You spend hours laying there in the dark, watching the way the moon light reflects off your crystal window chime and sends arcs of purple candescent rays across your walls and ceiling. The tossing and turning comes next, an hour spent tracing the rays with your eyes has become boring and the lack of sleep makes your eyes heavy. Of course they aren’t heavy enough to allow you to succumb to the sleep you desperately long for.

Usually you’d reach for your little friend tucked away in your bedside drawer but with Eddie just down the very short hall, you don’t want to chance your noisy little friend waking up the meddlesome boy sleeping on your couch. 

Eddie. The reminder of him shoots through you like an arrow, mind hastily rewinding to the way he all but cornered you in the kitchen earlier. The way your heart stuttered in your chest and your fingers ached to pull him by the collar of that stupid ripped Black Sabbath shirt until his lips were pressed against yours.

Okay. Stop.

You can’t think about him this way. He’s young, a good couple years younger in fact, there was no way you could allow these thoughts. 

But if they are only thoughts, who do they really hurt? You won’t act on them, you know better than that. Know you can’t get wrapped up with the twenty year old super senior, not when you came here to specifically get away from the drama of your past. No. You have to be good. Have to resist his infallible charm. You need to turn over, close your eyes, and be good. 

Yet your hand still wanders past the hem of your panties, down across the silky skin that lays underneath them. Your fingertip finds your clit immediately and your body jerks at the sensitivity of that little bundle of nerves, a surprised gasp leaving your lips in a rush. 

Down the hall, bundled on the couch, Eddie coughs. 

In your bed you lay frozen, heart pounding and ears listening intently. There’s no way you woke him up, not with just a gasp. You continue to listen for any other noise for a minute or two, heart steadily thumping and your fingers twitching at the anticipation of what you’re about to do because let's be real here. If you don’t come soon, you might actually implode.  

Feeling safe to move forward in your little quest, you guide your fingers back down, teasing a trail through your wet folds. 

His fingers would feel so much better. It’s not a helpful thought, not when you’re trying to think of anyone but him.

Fuck, okay. 

Patrick Swayze in that tight black shirt in The Outsiders. No. Scratch that. Matt Dillion as Dallas in The Outsiders, all rough and tumble. Just what you like in a man. A little rough around the edges but a good soul.

You press tight circles on your aching bud, arch your chest into your hand as it slips under your loose nightie, pulling at your pebbled nipple. You can’t help the soft moan that floats out, can’t help the rut of your hips into your palm as you slip two fingers into your heat. You imagine Matt Dillon laying you down on the bed, burying his face between your thighs.

Oh, fuck, that’s so good. This isn’t a marathon; it’s a sprint.

Your body so pint up and begging for some sort of release you’re on the precipice in no time at all. Your body is on fire, hips canting wildly, you think maybe your bed is squeaking but you don’t care. Fuck, you can’t care. Not when you’re so close. Just a little closer. 

Your imaginary scenario shifts suddenly and unexpectedly in your mind. Sexy Matt Dillion erased as Eddie’s face engulfs your vision completely. His beautiful face, those big strong hands of his, the tattoos, that little strip of black hair that leads down down down into his pants. 

You come with a cry, shocking and loud, and you clamp your hand across your mouth as your eyes screw tightly, brow pinching together almost painfully. 

His words from earlier replay as your body rocks through your orgasm in one vicious wave after another. 

"You devilish women, you.” 

Your thighs, trembling and slick, clamp around your own hand when you’ve had too much. Body relaxes into your silk sheets as you breathe slowly. But you’re filled with this zing like pins and needles from your fingertips to your toes and your mind is racing, and why the fuck did your brain betray you like that? 

You feel it then, the soft call of sleep. The flutter of your eyes as you fight to keep them open. The trailer is silent besides the rough Illinois winds as they beat a lone branch against the roof. You roll over in your bed, nuzzle deep into the blankets. You’ll deal with whatever that was tomorrow or the next day. Or never. You take one last peek at your room, still a soft lavender hue, purple moonlight, before sleep takes over. 

You don’t even notice the fact that your bedroom door had been left open just a crack. 

Eddie is gone when you wake up the next morning, the sun casting its early morning rays into your windows. The only proof he was even there is the blanket he slept with the night before sloppily folded on the arm of the couch. You don’t think much of his earlier departure. He’s a busy guy running full steam ahead towards his graduation. So you go about your day as normal. Coffee made, a small breakfast of yogurt and some berries you wished you’d grown on your own. You tidy up from the night before, washing the dinner dishes and making a list you shove into the depths of your purse. You need to stop by the store after work, get dinner for the next couple nights. 

The day goes on like so; slow and laborious. You try your hardest not to think about Eddie, try to place him at the back of your mind. You go through work at the Hawkins Journal mindlessly. Walk the colorful aisles of the grocery store with glazed eyes.

By the time you get home, you’re exhausted. It’s late, nearing seven, and the place where Eddie’s van calls home is empty. You assume he’s off doing ‘Eddie Things’ as you called his extracurricular activities that were not of the legal kind. 

You decide to start dinner instead, talking to your friend from back home as you cook. 

“Any new love interests?” She asks at one point, voice giddy with hope. It’d been a year or so since you broke up with your toxic ex and about nine months since you’d arrived in Hawkins with no interesting suitors. 

“Nope, not one.” You rattle off as you stir your boiling water and pasta.

“Bullshit.” She says under her breath before she repeats herself, louder this time. More accusatory. “That’s bullshit. Nine months and not one guy you’re interested in? Did moving to that Podunk town automatically make you a nun?” 

You laugh at this, rolling your eyes as if she could see. 

“No, it didn't make me a nun. But most of these guys are married. Or boring. Or married and boring. Or..” 

“Or?” She catches your avoidance, the tone you held as you trailed off from your former sentence. 

“Or… nothing.” You avoid it as you strain your pasta. 

“Babe.” She says sternly. 

“Fuck. Or they're too young.” You plop the strained pasta unceremoniously in the pasta sauce and throw the white plastic strainer into the sink.

“Young? How young are we talking?” Her voice is fully scandalized and you can only imagine the bright smile she's wearing. 

“20.” You sigh, leaning your hip against the counter as you stir with one hand and hold the phone against your ear with the other. “My neighbor. He’s…. He’s trouble.” 

“Oh, so he’s your type, is what you’re telling me.” She chimes and you roll your eyes once again.

“No. He’s trouble for me. He’s a good guy. Kid. Person.” Another sigh from you as your friend chuckles. 

“Oh, you are so bad off.” A giggle, then, “He’s legal, just go for it. You know, the world would be better if you got laid. You’d be less tense.” 

“No. He hasn’t even graduated high school yet.” You say. 

“He’s 20 and he hasn’t graduated high school?” 

“He’s not stupid.” 

“I didn’t say he was.” Her tone makes your skin crawl. She can tell -over the phone, miles away- just how defensive her question made you. 

“He’s just a kid.” You say again, mostly to yourself. 

“Babe, he’s twenty.” 

“So what, I should just fuck him?” Your voice is getting higher, temper is starting to build. There’s no reason to get so worked up, you know your friend means well, but you know you can’t go there with Eddie. You’d just ruin him. You weren’t good at relationships. 

“Calm down. I’m just saying. If you want it and he wants it and you are both legal consenting adults, what's the issue?”  

“It feels wrong. Like I’m taking advantage of him.” You mutter, abandoning your bubbling pasta to look out your window towards Eddie’s trailer. The van is still gone but now his uncle Wayne’s truck sits out front. 

“Jesus, babe. You’re clinging on to this warped moral high ground you have with your pinkies. Just let go. Live for once. I thought that's why you moved out there anyway. To live your own life however you want.” 

“It is.”

“Then fucking live it.” 

Your friends' words worm their way into your brain, spreading like a disease. You get high to quiet the voice but that doesn’t work like you want. You end the night curled up on the couch with your book, not even reading the words on the page. No. All you can do is think about Eddie and those four damned words. 

Then fucking live it

The days fade into even colder nights. You don’t see Eddie as much as you normally do, but he comes over every now and then to catch you up on how busy he’s been. He’s looking at you differently now, eyes lingering for too long. You don’t notice it at first, his constant heavy stare, more intense then his usual playful one and always on you. 

He’s touching you more. Something your brain noticed after the fifth time the back of his hand grazed across your arm or hip or thigh. It made your whole body light up like a fucking Christmas tree. 

His birthday whirls around. 21. He gets so drunk you find him laid out on his porch on your trip to the mailbox the next morning. His uncle sits on the steps smoking a cigarette, a fond smile on his face. 

He’s back to losing his key and hanging around your trailer by the time graduation comes around. You watch him walk the stage in his green cap and gown, sitting right next to his uncle who sheds a silent tear. Eddie flips his principle the bird after snatching his diploma from his hands. A group of kids cheers rowdily to the left of you, whooping and hollering, and Eddie stands at the edge of the stage with his arms spread wide soaking it all in. 

You don’t expect to see him that night, figured he’d be too busy partying with his friends, so it comes as a shock when there's a knock at your door quarter past eleven. 

“Hey, princess.” He says when you answer the door. He’s leaning against your porch railing with a distinct smile on his face. It reads trouble and you are absolutely smitten. 

“Hey, you. What’s up?” The screen door between you two does nothing to block the early spring breeze from invading your trailer.

“Lost my key.” He says simply. 

“Oh, you did, huh?” You bite back the smile that wants to break across your face. You can tell he’s lying. Can see the little twinkle in his chocolate buttons eyes. 

“Misplaced the damn thing again.”

“You have a problem, Ed.” 

“I need your help, Miss.”

It nearly knocks you off your feet, the tremor in his voice, the desperate pleading cut with a playfulness that short circuits your brain. Eddie smirks, hand reaching towards the door handle. You beat him to it, locking the screen door as he goes to pull it open.

“What do you want, Eddie? I’m about to go to bed.” The tension is too much. If you let him in… 

If you let him in, nothing will be able to stop you. 

“You’re just gonna let me freeze out here?” He whines, dramatically shivering in his leather jacket, vest, and red flannel. 

“Nice try.” You step back, starting to close the inner door when his hand slaps against the aluminum siding of your trailer, trying his hardest to catch your attention before you fully shut him out. 

“I'm starving. I-I’ll sleep in my van but can I just borrow some bread, and peanut butter, and maybe some jelly?” 

And just like that, you finally feel some semblance of control over this boy who makes it his goal to drag the desire out of its dark hidey hole deep within your chest.

Except, it’s not that deeply hidden. Not now. Not after all this time fighting to not feel this way for him. You know you shouldn’t let him in. He’s in a mood, you could tell the second you saw him, and you’re so pent up and horny you're destined to snap. To give in to this unholy feeling that's slowly suffocating you.

But he’s hungry and he’s pouting and giving you those lost puppy eyes…

You unlock the screen door and walk to the kitchen, knowing he’ll trail behind. He always does. 

“Thank you, sweetheart. I thought my stomach was gonna eat itself.” 

You slam through your cabinets and fridge as he stands in the center of your small kitchen. You carry your small load to the kitchen table, dropping the food into a messy pile. Bread, lunch meat, lettuce and tomato, a jar of mayonnaise and a bottle of mustard. 

“You can make it yourself, ya?” You ask and Eddie nods happily. 

“So much better than a PB&J.” He says excitedly, sitting down at the table. You hand him a plate and a knife and decide now would be a good time to finish washing your dinner dishes. 

Time passes quietly. The steady voices from the TV, Eddie’s soft groaning as if this sandwich is the best thing he’s ever eaten. It’s not as difficult to control yourself as you thought it was. But of course, you two aren’t speaking. The mood changes when Eddie opens his mouth. 

“Can I have a drink?” He asks hesitantly, mouth half full and a piece of lettuce hanging out the corner of his mouth as he chews. 

You pop open the fridge and grab one of the sodas you’d bought for him a couple weeks ago. You set it in front of him with a gentle smile. 

“Thanks.” 

It’s a quiet dance, the way his hand somehow brushes your bare leg as you walk back towards the sink. You know he hears the way your breath hitches. Know he has his eyes on you even with your back turned.

He’s cleaned up his mess by the time you’re done with the dishes, wiping your hands off on a dish towel when he makes his way back from the bathroom. You can faintly smell your mouth wash on his breath as he leans next to you to place his plate in the sink.

“I’ll wash it.” He says, looking down at you with a brazen look. The control you felt earlier instantly dissipates. 

“Okay.” 

“You look nice.” 

You roll your eyes at this, partially because it didn’t take him very long to fall back into his flirting but also because these little words really do something for you. All bets are off. If he pushes again there's no doubt you’ll give.

“Just a shirt and shorts.” You say back as he rinses the plate off. 

“Still,” When he’s down he collapses in the kitchen chair with a grunt, digging for his cigarettes he knows he can’t smoke in your house. “I think you look beautiful. Always.” 

“Are you full?” You decide to change the subject. 

“Very. Thank you.” He's quiet for a minute, flicking the wheel on his Zippo as he stares at you. And then, “I’d make you feel better than anyone ever has.” 

You hoist yourself up onto the counter, bare feet kicking against the pale yellow cabinet door, eyes lingering on him from where he sits. His legs are splayed wide, the muscles in his thighs straining against the overly washed black denim. 

“Getting ahead of yourself there, bud.” 

“Am I?” He asks as he sits up slowly, moves as lithe as a snake sizing up its prey. In an instant his whole demeanor has changed. He settles his elbows on his knees, levels you with a pensive look. His dark eyes narrow, but his grin widens and the contrast between the two makes you shiver. 

“You are.” 

“I’m not a virgin.” He says back quickly, a bite to his voice that doesn’t go amiss and you chuckle. He doesn’t like that, you can see it in the way his eyebrows wrinkle at the bridge of his nose. 

“Never said you were. You’re just young, Eddie, and I’m not a high school girl who doesn’t know any better.” Okay, so maybe you weren’t going to allow yourself to give in so easily. Where’s the fun in that?

He chuckles dryly as he raises from his seat. He steps in front of you, not touching, but his hands fist at his sides like he wants to. Like he longs for it. 

“Bold of you to assume I even mess with those high school girls.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry, the groupies that hang out at The Hideout? Wait at the stage to tell you how good you are with your fingers?” There’s more bite to your words than you intend but if it fazes him he doesn’t seem to show it. His hot rough palms find the chilly hills of your kneecaps, his eyes flickering down to the exposed skin as he smooths his thumb there, before he’s locked back onto your withering gaze. 

“You sound jealous, Sweetheart.” 

And you laugh at this, a quick belly laugh that has your head falling back against the cabinet behind you. You laugh because you are fucking jealous and you hate yourself for it. You shouldn't be jealous of your freshly twenty-one year old neighbor burying his cock into a pussy that isn't yours. But fuck, it sears through you like a hot knife, made even worse as he eclipses the space that's left between you two. 

“I’m not jealous.” You scoff while your body is ravaged with the flames of his touch. “I’m sure you’ve fucked any girl that let you put your hands up her skirt. But I’m not some easy little girl.” 

“A woman.” His voice is entirely mocking as he ignores the hateful crassness in your words. 

“Yeah, a woman, and it takes more than some sloppy head and eager dick to make me come.” 

He settles himself between your legs, hands sliding up the expanse of your thighs until his fingertips dig into the flesh right below the hem of your little sleep shorts. He leans in, the smell of the weed he must have smoked before he came over lingering on his clothes and hair; the smell strong enough to have you feeling intoxicated. 

Or, maybe that was all him. 

“You have no idea what I’m capable of, sweetheart.” You want to wipe that smug grin away, slap him across his pretty face so he stops this before it goes too far, but one quick intrusive thought sends your mind into a tizzy. 

He’d like it. Little fucking masochist. 

“I’m not some innocent little kid, baby, I’d fuck you so good you wouldn’t remember your name.” 

As sexy as he sounds, as good as it sounds, you roll your eyes at his self assuredness. This sweet boy, the same boy that's confided in you about his past with tear filled eyes and spent hours blabbing about his DnD campaigns, saying he’d fuck you like an animal just feels so absurd. Yet it arouses you just as much, has your panties damp and sticking to your slick folds.

“You say that to all the girls you fuck?” 

“See; jealous.” He hisses back, eyes so dark and blown wide you can barely see their beautiful umber color.  

“Not jealous.” You shake your head, eyes begging to look away from his intense stare down, but you can’t. You’re trapped in his hypnotic slow blink as his eyes flash to your pursed lips. 

“I think you’re lying.” He argues, a harsh whisper as his head tips against yours. Your breath leaves in a choked rush when he nuzzles his nose into the side of your head, teeth nipping your earlobe. 

“Eddie.” You warn weakly, your hand splayed against his firm chest as you go to push him away, but Eddie has other ideas. He snatches your wrist up in a tight grip, guiding your hand slowly down his stomach until you're cupping his hard bulge. He’s hot under your touch and you both gasp in unison when he squeezes your hand against the heavy ridge of him under his denim. 

“Eddie…” You try again halfheartedly, head knocking against his as his cock twitches at the breathy whimper of his name. 

“Do you see what you do to me? You make me so hard." He rolls his hips up, drags his hard cock over your palm. His moan rumbles like thunder in his chest. “Want you so bad, I know you want me too.” 

“It’s not gonna happen, Eddie.” You whisper back, try with all your might to steel yourself, to make your words sound steady and sure. You want to. Fuck, you really really want to. But there's still that part of you attempting to resist the burning flames of desire. “You’re a kid.” 

“I’m not a fucking kid.” He growls, grips the underside of your knees to drag you further into him. You can feel him against the inside of your thigh, hot and pulsing and begging to be touched. 

“It’s wrong, Eddie, please.” Your hands are braced against the counter as he presses his forehead to yours, pushes against you until your back is arched. Your core presses against his cock in the most agonizing way in this new position, stealing the breath from your lungs as he hovers his lips over yours. 

“But it feels so good. Stop pushing me away. I’m a grown ass man, sweetheart.” His teeth drag quickly against your bottom lip and as he pulls away you chase after unconsciously, needing his touch -his taste- as much as he needs yours. 

“Fuck, you’re not making this easy for me. I have morals, you know.” You’re whining, head rolling to the side as he slowly starts to grind his hips into yours. 

“Oh, your poor morals.” His hand is gripping your jaw in an instant, fingertips digging almost too roughly into the soft hollow of your cheeks. “You’re so sure you’re gonna corrupt me, which is laughable. Don’t you see, baby?” Eddie soothes his thumb across your bottom lip, drags it down till it bounces gently back in place. 

“I want you to corrupt me. Use me. Teach me everything you know, everything you want, so you’ll never need anyone but me.” 

His words hit you square in the chest but he doesn’t give you a second to interrupt. He has a point to prove and nothing will stop him now. 

“I know you feel it, this thing between us that I felt the moment I saw you in that sexy little robe and your muddy rain boots. That night changed everything for me. You’re the only person who really sees me. I know it. Just like I know how hard it’s been for you. Resisting me, telling yourself how wrong it is and then moaning my name when you touch yourself in the dark of your room while I’m right down the hall. You can’t deny the cold hard truth, Sweetheart.” 

Your eyes widen as you pull away from him. He lets you create space, lets you digest the bomb he just dropped on you. He’d heard you that night. You’d been so careful, so quiet. At least you thought you had. 

“Tell me you want me. Let me make you feel good, baby. I know you need it. It’s been so long, hasn’t it? Since someone has touched you; since someone made you come.” He’s so sure of himself. So sure that he’s hit the proverbial nail on the head. That he’s got you all figured out. You’re torn between giving him credit for being so observant and being pissed that he’s using it against you. But he’s not wrong. It’s been so long since you’ve allowed yourself to be swept off your feet by someone. So long since you’ve felt a touch other than your own and here he was offering himself up on a silver platter with the promise of rocking your world. 

What was the use in fighting something that you both equally wanted? Two consenting adults giving in to the burning flames of desire. 

“Eddie-” He cuts you off quickly, his hips still against you, his hands digging into your fleshy hips. 

“Please, give me a chance.” His voice begs, thick with need and worry. He doesn’t want to go back to being alone if you say no. He’s well aware that the words leaving his mouth and the grip he has on you changes everything. 

“Eddie.” You grab him by the tattered collar of his flannel, pull him in until your lips brush his. “Shut up and kiss me already.”

He wastes no time slamming his lips to yours in an eager sloppy kiss. You kiss him back, waiting for him to slow his pace, to calm down a little, but he just presses himself closer and grips the back of your neck in a shaky hold. The blunt crescent of his fingernails digs into the sensitive skin of your neck. His other hand leaves its bruising grip on your hip to hold you tight to him, chest to chest, hearts pounding in tandem against one another. 

You let him lead, let him find his groove. Sloppy wet kisses turn slow and true, his nose bumping yours, his tongue licking into your mouth tantalizingly. The first time he does it you whimper, sure that if you had been standing you would have been weak in the knees. But you’re still locked onto the counter top, thighs clenched tightly around his waist, the heel of your foot digging into the backs of his thighs. You fought this for so long. One taste and now you’re not sure if you can let him go. 

But that’s something to think about another time and not when Eddie has a handful of your breast, thumb rolling tight circles around your pebbled nipple that pokes through the fabric of your shirt. 

“I knew you fucking wanted me.” He teases once he pulls away, a string of spit collected against kiss swollen lips. His breathing is heavy and his cheeks are ruddy and he looks so god damn beautiful in the soft lighting of your kitchen. 

You know there's no stopping you now. No going back. You were always just preventing the inevitable. You want him, you always have, and here he is serving himself up on a silver platter.

"Shut up and fuck me already, you punk."

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson angst #stranger things smut #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #stranger things

[mind-empty-just-fictional-people]

Our Own Holiday

masterlist

summary: tom can’t celebrate valentine’s day, you can’t celebrate halloween

paring: tom hanniger x female reader

rating: R for language

word count: 0.7k

warnings: trauma (not specified) surrounding halloween, language, no spoilers

timeline: set before or after the movie, up to you

author’s note: happy halloween! 🎃👻 (this fic was queued so i’m still not active on tumblr. i’ll be back on my main to celebrate the fifth of november but i don’t think i’ll be uploading any fics until later in the month 💞)

October 31st was the one day a year you absolutely hated. You loved horror movies, autumn weather, and the general aesthetic that surrounded the whole month, but Halloween hadn’t been fun for you in years.

You were currently huddled up on your living room couch and watching Child’s Play when a knock came from your back door. There had been noise coming from your front door all night (understandably so) but the fact someone had climbed your fence was a little unsettling.

You walked through the kitchen and to your back door, smiling when you saw who was there.

“Tom? Oh my god!” you giggled a little after unlocking the door and letting him in.

“I know this night is tough for you so I figured you’d want some company.” He smiled, somewhat sadly, and held up a large bag of candy. “I would’ve been here about two hours ago but I had to find non-Halloween-themed candy and the Target around the corner was out. I had to go to the one on Washington Road.”

“Thank you, Tom,” you said, a smile now on your lips.

“How’re you feeling?” he asked. “Have you gotten many trick-or-treaters?”

“I’ve had a few knocks but I haven’t answered the door,” you said. He put his hands on your shoulders before he pulled you into a hug. “I feel like absolute shit,” you admitted.

“You wanna talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“That’s okay. How ‘bout this; I’ll go put a bowl out for the trick-or-treaters and a sign that says not to knock or ring the bell, we can cuddle on the couch and watch movies. It’ll be like… Well, not Valentine’s Day cause I hate that. It’ll be our own holiday that we celebrate twice a year while the rest of the world is celebrating stupid Halloween or Valentine’s Day.”

“My god, what did I do to deserve you, Tom?” You looked up at him as you both pulled back from the hug and he shrugged a little.

“Well, last Valentine’s you did stay with me for the whole day and kept me distracted so I wouldn’t think about it.”

“So…is this the second time we’re celebrating this new holiday of ours, then?”

“You’re right! We need a name for it,” he said as you both walked to the couch before sitting down. You snuggled into his side as he put an arm around your shoulders.

“The Hanniger Holiday,” you suggested.

“Hmm,” he hummed beside you, as if in thought. “I was gonna say ‘we need to have your name in there somewhere’ but I guess Hanniger will be your name someday.”

“You really think?”

“No question, sweetheart.” He kissed your cheek. “I love you, Y/n Hanniger.”

“I love you so much, Tom,” you mumbled, turning to place a kiss on his full lips.

“Love you more.” He smiled against your lips, moving his hand to your cheek as yours went into his hair.

“Not fuckin’ possible,” you said directly into his mouth.

“Definitely possible,” he retorted, “because it’s fuckin’ true.”

“Just shut up and kiss me some more,” you sighed.

A knock at the door and the faint sound of a few kids shouting “Trick-or-treat,” pulled you both out of the happy trance you’d been in.

“I’ll go shut ‘em up,” Tom said before kissing your cheek and standing up. “You stay here, maybe find us a different movie, and I’ll be back before you can say ‘Mr and Mrs Tom Hanniger’ three times fast.”

“But I love this movie,” you pouted, he rolled his eyes playfully before leaving to take care of the people at the door.

He handed out some candy (from another bag he’d bought, this one Halloween themed) before the kids all left. He then set the bag up on the front porch and quickly scribbled a ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign that he then taped to the door.

He was back beside you within a couple minutes and, per his request, you’d set up a new movie for the two of you.

“Oh fuck yeah!” Tom exclaimed as the movie started.

#tom hanniger x reader #tom hanniger #my bloody valentine #my bloody valentine 2009 #jensen ackles #jackles character #by mind empty just fictional people #by jean

[jut-and-dae-enthusiast]

Spoiling the Birthday Boy

Bangchan x gn!reader (I think?)

Also, this is late IM SORRY but I had to write something for our baby best leader Channie Hyung <3 enjoy my delusion love u so much

Warning: slightly suggestive there for a sec.

“What do you want for your birthday, Channie?” You asked softly as the two of you were snuggled up together on the couch in the late hours of the night.

“Hmm… Maybe for you to just forget about it?” He asked and flashed you his cutie pie smile, hands gently kneading your waste. You made your expression deadpan and frowned. “Baby, you know how I feel about all of it.” He sighed and pulled you close, kissing the top of your head gently.

“Okay, then we won’t celebrate my birthday either.” You state matter-o-factly, patting his arm gently. He sits back dramatically, eyes wide.

“Uh, no. That’s my favorite day of the year. You can’t take that from me.” He pouted his lip and shook his head.

“That’s how I feel about your birthday, love.” You said softly, a hand resting on his cheek with a thumb caressing it gently. “Just let me do something nice. It’ll be lowkey I promise.” He sighs and you can see his resolve dropping.

“Alright, fine. Just- no party please. Only me and you, yeah?”

The evening of October 2nd, you had tasked Changbin with making sure Chan came home at a decent hour (a feat in itself) and Minho with snatching Chan’s phone so no one could bother him the entire night or morning.

You were putting the final touches on the first of his birthday surprises when you heard the door open. Trying to contain your excitement, you quickly make your way over to greet him with a smile.

“Hey birthday boy.” You giggled and wrapped your arms around his torso.

“I mean, it’s technically not even my birthday yet-“ you cut him off with a shake of your head, a finger to his lips.

“Ah, not allowed. Just relax and trust me.” You kiss him softly, holding him close. “Did you eat yet?” You ask softly, pulling away from the kiss. He nodded.

“Yeah, the boys took me out for dinner.” You already knew that, but he didn’t know that you knew.

“Okay, good. Then we can get in to the first surprise.” You grab his hand and pull him into the bathroom where you have a hot bath ready to go with soft candle lighting and the gentle sound of his favorite songs playing. You feel his arms wrap around you, face nuzzling into your neck.

“Is this for me, hm?” You can hear his smile, his hug squeezing a bit tighter for emphasis.

“Should we get in?” You ask, turning to look at his face with a smile.

Once you both are within the warmth of the tub, you facing him in his lap, you reach for some shampoo right behind his shoulder. He looks at you lovingly, his hands mindlessly grazing your skin with a small smile resting on his face. As you massage the shampoo into his hair, scratching his scalp gently as you work it in, a small groan escapes his lips. His hands begin to wander, grasping at the flesh on your thighs while biting his lip.

“Ah, be good.” You gently reprimand, a small smirk on your face. “There will be plenty of time for that later.” You lean in and kiss his neck softly before resuming washing his hair.

“Alright alright.” He concedes, bracing his hands on either side of the tub.

After the bath was face masks, painting each others nails (something Chan loved doing but would never admit to anyone but you), and finally snuggling up in bed.

“That wasn’t so bad now, was it?” You hum against his jawline, looking up at him.

“I would say no but I know for a fact you have more planned for tomorrow.” He giggles and shakes his head. “I do really appreciate it though, baby. I needed a relaxing night.”

“And my next gift is that you can sleep as late as you want tomorrow.” You smile and kiss his cheek. He thinks for a second before looking at you with furrowed brows.

“Are you the reason my phone has suddenly disappeared?” You sit in silence, hoping that if you’re quiet long enough, he’ll just forget. He does not. In fact, his fingers dig into your ribs, causing squeals and giggles to fill the once quiet room.

Happy birthday best leader, Channie. October 3rd is the best day because it’s the day the world received you. What a happy occasion. <3

#stray kids #skz fluff #skz #stray kids fluff #skz drabbles #skz bangchan #bang chan #bang chan drabbles #happy birthday channie #best leader bang chan #christopher bang #bang christopher chan #hbd channie #channie <3 #skz channie

[seijorhi]

Means to an End

Miya Atsumu x female reader x Miya Osamu

w.c 7.3k

tw: dub/non-con elements, yandere, drugged reader, cheating, toxic relationships, implied abuse

“Ame, I really don’t think this is a good idea.”

The blonde pouts, lovely, long eyelashes fluttering, “It’s one weekend, for my birthday. Please? Don’t make me beg.”

Biting back a heavy sigh, you take her proffered phone, glancing down at the images of the picturesque onsen retreat flashing on the screen. And it does look amazing; traditional Japanese architecture, steam rolling across the natural springs and lush mountain views. Of course, Ame’s birthday is early-October, and by then the mountains and surrounding valleys will be awash in vibrant hues of red, orange and gold. 

The whole thing oozes a calm, relaxing tranquillity and you can only imagine how lovely it’ll be if you do decide to go. The where has never been the issue. “It’s not that I don’t want to go, you know that,” you begin. “I’m… I don’t know if I’m all that comfortable spending a whole weekend with either one of them.” Especially not trapped in such close, cosy quarters for days on end. “I don’t want to ruin your birthday by making things all weird and tense.”

“You won’t ruin it at all, not if you come,” she hurries to reassure you. “Look, I’m not saying they’re angels or that how they treated you back then was in any way okay, but high school was years ago, and they’ve both grown up a lot since. They’re not the same assholes who used to pick on you, I promise. They’ll be on their best behaviour.”

“Ame–”

“Please,” she says as you set her phone back on the coffee table that separates the two of you. “Atsumu’s changed, Osamu too. I’m not saying let bygones be bygones, but… can’t you give them a chance? For me?”

She makes it sound like they went around pulling on your pigtails and calling you names, tripping you up in the hallways between classes. Not her fault, you suppose; Ame didn’t know the twins back then, nor you for that matter.

You, she met during your first year together at university, Atsumu (and by extension his brother) eight months ago when her company transferred her from Tokyo to Osaka.

No, it’s not her fault. She knew the vague bits and pieces you’d shared over the years, but you’re the one who swallowed the truth down the day she called to gush over her new stupidly hot, talented, Olympic volleyball playing boyfriend.

“I’ll… I’ll think about it,” you concede quietly. 

Ame beams at you, “You won’t regret it!”

—

“You know you didn’t have to drive, right? Osamu’s jeep would’ve fit all of us perfectly fine,” Ame calls out in lieu of a greeting, walking down the ryokan’s steps.

You shrug, “I like driving.” That, and it makes you feel the teeniest bit better knowing you have an escape route if this whole thing goes sideways. 

There’s a knowing twinkle in her eyes as she comes in for a hug that tells you she doesn’t quite buy it. She embraces you tightly in spite of it, “I’m really glad you’re here.”

If she were anyone else, you think, you wouldn’t be. For Ame, you’ll suffer through this weekend with a smile – or as close to one as you can manage. “This place is beautiful,” you comment, changing the subject as she helps you with your bags. 

“You should see inside, the pictures really didn’t do it justice,” she gushes. “Oh, and the onsen – we have two, it’s amazing! I’ve been waiting forever for this trip and now that we’re here it’s literally so perfect! Did I tell you that Atsumu hired a private chef for us?” Happily chattering away, she takes no notice, perhaps deliberately so, of the deep, steadying breath you draw in before you reach the door. 

The last time you’d laid eyes on either one of them was the night of (morning after?) graduation, and considering how that ended… is it any wonder your heart’s lodged firmly in your throat? That you feel that same pit in your stomach that you used to have every morning walking through the school gates?

Yet Ame… Ame’s positive that they’ve changed. And maybe you don’t have any faith in the Miya’s twins and the possibility of leopards changing their spots, but you have faith in her, don’t you?

She’s a good person. She wouldn’t be with someone who, who–

Without so much as looking over her shoulder, Ame reaches back, fingers entwining with yours. Another breath in, and you follow when she steps inside. “Tsumu and I’ve got the room on the left, and Osamu’s in the one down the other end” she tells you, pointing towards the respective bedrooms. “Which leaves you in the one next to ours.”

You’re barely nodding along however, because with one leaning over the kitchen bench and the other seated on the sofa near the crackling fireplace, the realisation that you’re once again face to face with the Miya twins is kind of taking all of your focus.

And they’re staring; matching unreadable expressions boring into you like a bug under a magnifying glass. It’s an effort for you not to fidget as the silence seems to stretch.

You’ve seen Atsumu plastered throughout Ame’s social media feeds, and the odd glimpse of his twin, yet now that they’re both right here in front of you, you’re struck by how little they’ve changed in the years since you saw them last.

They’re bigger than they were back then, both in height and their sheer physical size, though that shouldn’t come as a surprise. Especially not in Atsumu’s case, what with him being some big shot professional athlete now. Osamu’s hair’s a bit darker, Atsumu’s a little blonder. They both have it cropped shorter, too, you notice. All superficial things, probably no different to the small changes in your own appearance. 

And it isn't that you expected some big, dramatic change, only that seeing them here, now… it’s whiplash. As if you could blink, and you’d be right back there again; shoved back against their lockers, the two of them looming over you.

Ame, ever your saviour, is the one to break the silence, gently dropping off your bag before flitting to her boyfriend’s side. “Tsumu, baby, you remember–”

“Nah, not really,” The blond tilts his chin, appraising you even as he lifts his arm for Ame to slip under, “Ame says you went to Inarizaki High, in the same year as us or somethin’?”

Osamu snorts, “She was in our class for three years, dumbass.”

His brother shrugs, “So? Am I s’posed to remember every scrub we went to school with?”

While the bickering between the pair is nothing new, Atsumu’s sudden lapse in memory strikes a chord of surprise – and you don’t buy it for a second.

He’s certainly arrogant enough, self absorbed enough, talented enough to purge all but the few people deemed important from his past – friends and rivals mostly. If all you’d been was another girl in the crowd, it wouldn’t have mattered how smart you were, how close you sat, or how loudly you clamoured for attention, leaving a lasting impression on the great Miya Atsumu would’ve been an uphill battle. 

You’d seen it in action; the revolving door of girlfriends shoved out of mind the moment he grew tired of fucking them.

And through it all, you were a constant. A puppy to torment when the mood struck. They hounded you through the hallways of Inarizaki, isolated you, hurt you. 

Took and took and took ‘til they were satisfied.

So no, you don’t believe that either one of the twins has forgotten you. For Ame’s benefit, though, you force yourself to smile pleasantly, “It’s fine,” you say, addressing none of them in particular. “We weren’t exactly friends.”

From his position behind her, Atsumu smirks.

—

Dinner swings around quicker than you’d like.

While the chef they hired moves throughout the kitchen with a single minded focus, Ame ushers the three of you to the beautifully crafted, oak table in the centre of the living space. Osamu, for his part, swipes a bottle of expensive looking sake from the counter on his way through, and wastes no time at all in dropping down into the seat to your left and cracking it open.

“You want one?” he asks, grey eyes shifting towards you. He’s already pouring it though, sliding the glass your way before you can answer.

‘We’re celebratin’, aren’t we? One drink won’t kill ya.’

Clearing your throat, you push it back, “I’m good, thanks.” 

“Aw, c’mon,” Atsumu chimes in. “I brought this ‘specially for tonight, ain’t a proper party without good booze.” 

‘Y’know it’s rude to refuse the hosts.’

Slowly – deliberately – he pushes the sake back towards you. “Try some, you’ll like it.”

A little belatedly, you realise something in his earlier comment doesn’t sit right. “… What do you mean you bought it for tonight? Ame’s birthday isn’t ‘til tomorrow,” you remind him, frowning a touch. 

You’re well aware that Atsumu’s of the belief that the world revolves around him, but surely even he can’t have mixed that one up. At least, you hope not for Ame’s sake. 

Atsumu gives you an odd look, like you’re a complete moron. “Yeah, I know that, I’m not…” he trails off, his gaze shifting from you to the blonde in question, who’s suddenly extremely interested in the edge of her place setting. Beside you, Osamu snickers, Atsumu opting for a wide grin as the pieces fall together in his head. “Ah, she didn’t tell ya, did she?”

You frown, “Tell me what?”

Steadfastly refusing to meet your eye, Ame’s cheeks turn a dusky pink as she fiddles with her chopsticks. “I um, I told you today’s the twins’ birthday, didn’t I?”

No, and she knows that full well. Just as she knows that you never would’ve let her talk you into this trip at all if you’d had so much as an inkling that it wasn’t solely about celebrating her birthday, but theirs too. 

At least it makes sense now why Osamu’s here, why Atsumu bothered shelling out for this fancy villa and the expensive alcohol, the private chef diligently working away in the kitchen, pretending not to overhear a word of this. 

A sick feeling settles in your gut. 

Back then, you used to dread it. The twins were insufferable enough on an average day, their sense of entitlement over you only ever skyrocketing whenever their birthday rolled around. It never mattered what else was going on; exams, qualifiers, girlfriends, Osamu and Atsumu always found time to collect – whether you were willing to give or not.

And now you’re faced with a deeply uncomfortable thought; were you invited here this weekend for your best friend’s sake, or the twins’?

Ame was adamant that they’d changed, and despite your own reservations about that, you’d nevertheless assumed that they’d grown out of whatever… interest they’d had in you. The idea that you’re both wrong isn’t one that you want to entertain. Not when Ame’s happy, not when you’ve worked so, so hard to put all of those awful memories behind you.

It’s only one weekend, you remind yourself. One weekend, for her sake. 

“Nope,” you murmur, feigning a light laugh. “Must have slipped your mind.”

She knew and lied to you anyway, and while there’s some small sense of vindication at the guilty look she sends you, it does little to ease the bitter sting in your heart.

You push back the sake one last time. “Anyway, I don’t drink.”

Another lie. This time, mercifully, Ame keeps her mouth shut, reaching across the table to take the drink herself. “More for me,” she says with a weak grin, and proceeds to knock it back in only a few mouthfuls, much to her boyfriend’s amusement. 

Nothing more’s said on the topic, because at that moment the chef appears at the table, the entrée course in hand. 

You could honestly kiss him. 

—

Sleep is evasive.

Not for lack of trying. Despite the unfamiliarity of your room, the bed and the pillows are perfect; soft and warm, you could close your eyes and sink into blissful oblivion–

If not for the moans, the gasps and unmistakable sounds of loud, drunken sex seeping in through the thin walls.

And you have to give them credit, they’ve been going at it for a while, and judging from the sounds of things, enjoying themselves plenty. An hour ago, it was uncomfortable, now you’re simply tired and frustrated, and honestly a little thirsty.

And the longer you lie there, listening to your best friend moan her way through yet another orgasm and regretting your decision to leave your headphones at home – your decision to come at all – the more that it eats away at you.

Surely they know you can hear them? You’re beginning to suspect that Osamu opted for the room on the opposite side of the villa for this very reason, and you wonder what it’d take to get him to swap you for it tomorrow.

Knowing Osamu, likely more than you’d be willing to give.

Another grunt, deep and guttural echoes through the room, and you squeeze your eyes shut, silently counting backwards from ten. Impressive pro-athlete stamina or not, eventually they’re going to wear themselves out, right? They have to, for the sake of your sanity if nothing else.

Instead of blissful quiet, you’re met with the muffled sounds of Ame’s giggling, the rustle of sheets and after a beat or two, the slapping of skin against skin begins anew. Your stomach churns, and with a huff, you kick back your covers and reach blindly for the thick, fluffy robe to ward off the cold, cocooning yourself in it. 

The soft pad of your slippers is muted against the wooden floorboards as you slip from your room, easing the door closed and tip-toeing back into the living area. If you’re lucky, the fire will still be burning away. You can make yourself a cup of tea, curl up on the couch and read a book on your phone, or scroll aimlessly  – anything to distract yourself until Ame and Atsumu tire themselves out. 

You get half your wish. The logs in the fireplace are smouldering away, casting the room in a warm, golden glow – enough to keep the temperature toasty without bordering on stuffy. In spite of that, any hope you had of temporary peace and quiet goes up in smoke at the sight of the other Miya twin in the kitchen, watching you with that same inscrutable expression.

It shifts into a small smirk, however, when you falter, drawing up short on the opposite side of the island counter.  

“Fuckin’ animals, aren’t they?” Osamu comments drily, jerking his chin towards the direction you'd emerged from, where the faint sounds of Atsumu and Ame going at it are still drifting out. 

You swallow, saying nothing. 

He’s dressed in sweatpants and an old tee-shirt that clings to his well built frame – which admittedly is less than you’re wearing, yet your fingers itch to tug at your robe and pull it tighter around yourself, despite knowing you’re covered. Osamu’s always had that effect on you though, those dark, grey eyes never failing to make you feel like you’re stripped bare before him. A butterfly pinned back beneath his heavy stare. 

A shiver rolls down your spine.

With Ame around, you don’t have any choice but to keep your mouth shut and pretend that everything’s okay. Which is doable, only because you know that they also have to be on their best behaviour whilst she’s in earshot. One on one, without that safety net, facing Osamu fills you with a new kind of apprehension. 

Ever since you arrived, he’s been treating you with this bizarre kind of … cursory friendliness. As if you really are nothing more than a friend of his brother’s girlfriend. An old classmate he vaguely recalls. 

There’s no need for either one of you to keep up that charade, now that he has you alone.

If he’s bothered by your silence and wary stance, Osamu gives no indication. “Ya want some tea?” he asks you instead. “Freshly brewed.”

You eye the steaming pot in front of him, the cup innocuously set to the side. And despite the tiny voice in the back of your mind that tells you it’s only tea, you shake your head. “I’m fine.”

The corner of his lips twitch, amusement glittering in his eyes, but Osamu only shrugs, “Your loss,” and pours a cup for himself. 

With Atsumu and Ame showing no signs of slowing down for the night, going back to your room to listen to them screwing each others’ brains out for another hour or two is hardly an appealing thought. On the other hand, staying out here with Osamu, walking on eggshells as he pushes and prods you under the guise of small talk fills you with a distinctly unpleasant sense of trepidation. 

And the longer you hesitate, caught halfway between your bedroom and the kitchen, Osamu watching every microexpression flit across your face with near predatory focus while he sips at his tea, the more awkward the atmosphere becomes. 

Not for the first time, you find yourself wishing you’d had the guts to tell Ame no in the first place.

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, “I came out for some water.” Which isn’t a lie, per se. You are thirsty, and once you have your glass of water, you can go and take it somewhere else to drink. Anywhere else. The open courtyard that lies between the living room and the indoor onsen, or the terrace that skirts around the western side of the villa. There’s a thick, knitted blanket thrown over the couch, you can grab that on your way through to keep yourself warm if worse comes to worst.  

You’d rather brave the mid-autumn iciness than stay in here with him. 

Whether or not he believes the hastily concocted excuse, Osamu doesn’t give an indication, merely stepping back to allow you enough room to awkwardly slip past him. 

“Y’know,” he begins in a conversational tone as you start opening up various cupboards in search of a fresh glass, “I‘m glad you’re here. S’good seeing you again.”

Pointedly, you ignore him.

Back when you were teenagers, Atsumu was always the more temperamental of the pair. He’d lash out over the tiniest things – a practice that hadn’t gone well, Osamu getting a better grade on a test, you, for making him trek all the way across campus in order to track you down.

At the end of the day, it usually didn’t matter what trivial thing had set him off, he’d inevitably find a way to make his frustrations your problem. And yet for all Atsumu’s irritability, you can’t forget that Osamu was no saint either – or that neither one of them appreciated it when you didn’t pay them the attention they felt they were owed. 

Caught between him and the countertop, there’s no room for you to escape when he decides to close that gap once more, calloused hands finding their home on your hips, his broad chest at your back.

Slowly, he inhales, fingers digging harshly into the soft flesh – paying no mind to your pitiful struggles. 

“I missed ya.”

The scent of his body wash, that fresh, woodsy musk, tickles at your nose, you can feel the heat permeating from his skin as he presses himself closer. Grinds himself against you, simply because he can. You squeeze your eyes shut, heart pounding so loudly against your ribs that you’re sure he has to be able to hear it too. This can’t be happening again, it can’t, it can’t, it can’t–

“I hate you.” The words slip out before you can stop them; a trembling whisper, almost lost to the crackling fire, the sound of wind rustling through the trees outside. 

Almost, but not quite. 

Osamu hums, “Yeah? S’that why ya ran off on us after graduation?”

Your stomach flips. “I-I don’t–”

His mouth now at your ear, Osamu continues, his voice a deep rumble, “We took care of ya, didn’t we? Made ya feel good? You were beggin’ for it by the end.” You tremble in his gasp, teeth sinking into your bottom lip to keep yourself from crying out, from begging as he turns his attention to the knot at the front of your robe, “At least, I sure thought we had a good time, ‘til we woke up to find you’d up and disappeared on us.”

He sounds angry now, all of that faux affability bleeding away into something decidedly colder. 

And with every word that leaves his lips, the nausea churning away inside of you only grows. You’ve worked hard to forget that morning, the pure panic you’d felt waking up naked between them, your head fuzzy and throbbing, your body a wreck of foreign aches and finger shaped bruises. 

Nimble fingers succeed in untying the knot, Osamu impatiently tugging the fabric aside. You should be putting up a fight, clawing at his arms, kicking out, screaming like a wild thing. Ame’s only in the next room, there’s no chance she wouldn’t hear, wouldn’t come running to investigate, wouldn’t stop this, but–

A silent tear spills down your cheek.

You’ve never told a soul what happened at that party – the little you remember of it anyway – just shoved it down, buried it deep in some untouchable recess of your mind. 

Easier to pretend it never happened than agonise over the doubt that festers whenever you prod too close.

You don’t remember, you don’t remember, you don’t remember, you don’t remember how much you had to drink that night–

Ignoring the small, distressed whine that escapes you, Osamu slides a hand beneath your top, a muscular arm curling around your middle. His thumb strokes along your bare skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake, a pool of shame that deepens with every possessive touch. 

There’s no mistaking the thick, hard outline of his cock pressing up against your ass as he idly toys with the waistband of your pajama shorts. 

“Y’know, Ame told us your news.” Teeth graze at your earlobe, hot breath sweeping along your neck, “You’re finally comin’ home, huh?”

The admission has you flinching, buckling in on yourself as much as Osamu’ll allow – which admittedly isn’t much. The thought that your best friend would even consider telling the twins hadn’t occurred to you, too excited when you’d rang her with the good news to stop and think about things like consequences. 

A new job as an editor; better paying, closer to your family, to her. At the time, it’d seemed too good to be true. Only now it feels like some kind of cosmic joke, and all you want to do is curl up into a ball and disappear entirely. 

Osamu isn’t like his brother, who’d take pleasure in your obvious dismay, even mock you for it, but there’s still something unmistakably cruel about the way he kisses your hair, and tells you, “Guess the three of us are gonna have to have a little welcome back party for ya.”

And you’re sure in that moment that he’s going to yank down the shorts he’s been toying with, bend you over the counter and fuck you right there and then. Or maybe push you down to your knees like they used to back behind the locker rooms at school, so it takes you by surprise when out of nowhere, he simply squeezes your waist once more and withdraws, trudging back to his room without another word.

Leaving you shaken and alone, a hand clamped over your mouth to stifle the sound of ragged, terrified sobs. 

—

You can’t stay here.

Stacked neatly by the door to your room are your bags, packed in the early hours of the morning after you finally gave up on fitful sleep. But despite the strong urge to slip away at dawn, you still haven’t left yet.

You can’t bring yourself to, at least, not until you’ve talked to Ame. Had the chance to explain why you’re all but running out on her.

Not the full truth, of course – you’re not sure you’ll ever be able to give her that – but some variation of it, maybe. And you’ll simply have to pray that she’ll take it at face value, that she won’t pry too deep or hold it against you.

That you won’t lose your best friend over this when all’s said and done, because you can’t lie to her either.

By the time you finally venture out from your bedroom, you find the chef already working on breakfast in the kitchen, Ame and Atsumu settled at the table, the latter’s arm casually slung over the back of her chair as she sips her morning coffee. 

She brightens at the sight of you, a wide, beaming grin that somehow makes her look even lovelier than usual. 

One smile, and you falter, that steely determination of yours withers away, crumbling like ash in your mouth. 

“Morning!” she greets cheerfully. “Are you hungry? I don’t think breakfast’s too far off, but there’s tea and coffee if you want it.”

One smile, and you’re reminded of the girl you met back at university, bright eyed and bubbly, who’d sat down next to you on the first day of semester and told you point blank that you and her were gonna be friends, because there was no way in hell she was gonna make it through this class alone. 

She looks happy, glowing almost, nestled into her boyfriend’s side. Yet there’s something different about it, an easy contentment you’ve never seen before – at least, not in any of her previous relationships. 

And it hits you; Ame isn’t merely happy, she’s in love with him. 

Before her, before high school, before the Miya’s, you’d had other friends. Ones you thought would stick by your side through thick and thin. Inevitably, though, as you entered high school together, caught the twins’ attention, those friends were forced to make a choice.

You, or staying in the twins’ good graces. 

In the end, whether it took days or weeks, a whole semester in one case, they all came to the same conclusion. Between being your friend and standing up to the wonder twins, there never seemed to be much competition.

As your eyes flicker between the couple, Atsumu’s fingertips grazing along her arm, the lazy, watchful eyes that bore into you, Ame, perfectly at peace around him, still smiling at you in spite of your very obvious hesitation, your heart sinks once more.

‘I’m not complaining, but... I just don’t understand why you want me there, wouldn’t it be better if it was only the two of you; a big, romantic couples getaway or whatever?”’

‘Because I wanna celebrate with both of my favourite people. You’re my best friend, and I’ve missed you… Is it so awful that I want you guys to have a second chance?’

History has a funny way of repeating itself, you suppose. 

Swallowing down the bitter lump in your throat, you plaster what you hope is a genuine looking smile across your face and lean over the table to hug her – awkwardly trying to avoid Atsumu in the process, “Happy Birthday.”

Coward.

“Thanks,” she replies. “Tsumu gave me the prettiest earrings this morning, look,” sweeping back her thick, blonde locks, she shows off the new, sparkling diamond drops as you sit. “Aren’t they stunning?”

“They’re gorgeous,” you agree. Expensive looking, too – exactly the sort of showy, ostentatious gift you’d expect from Atsumu. 

Lips parted, she looks on the verge of continuing when Atsumu – unusually quiet up until this point – decides to drawl, “You’re lookin’ rough this morning, didja sleep alright?”

If anyone else had asked, you could be forgiven for mistaking the query for a well meaning – albeit poorly worded – expression of genuine concern. Atsumu’s incapable of such sentiments, though, and even if he weren’t, the half lidded smirk he sends your way puts any lingering doubts of sincerity to bed. 

“How could she?” another voice answers; Osamu, emerging from his room, hair still damp from his morning shower. 

Sparing you only a cursory glance, he slots himself into the chair beside yours and reaches for the pot of tea. “You two were fuckin’ loud enough to wake half the damn mountain,” he continues, narrowing his eyes at his brother who scowls in return. 

In a way, you almost feel sorry for the chef. Amidst the bickering and sniping of the twins, Ame’s flustered, blushing apologies, no one seems to really pay attention to the breakfast spread he lays upon the table, plates laden with everything from fruit to freshly baked pastries and omelettes to miso and rice. More food than the four of you could ever hope to eat in a single sitting. 

You’re sure that he’s talented, that the plates of food he’s painstakingly plated this morning are as delicious as they are lovely to look at – last night’s certainly were. 

The few mouthfuls you manage to swallow down taste like ash. 

—

Your day does not improve from there.

Whilst the twins are left to their own devices, Ame drags you along with her to the ryokan’s day spa for a morning of pampering, which isn’t terrible in and of itself. The masseuse works wonders with deft hands, and your skin feels impossibly soft and smooth after she’s finished.

You should feel relaxed. You should be enjoying yourself – especially now that it’s back to being just the two of you. After breakfast, though, you can’t escape the feeling that something’s shifted, perhaps irrevocably. 

In all the time you’ve been friends with Ame, you’ve never felt distance like this before. She’s only a few feet away, the two of you left alone to relax as the treatments work their magic, yet there may as well be a mountain between you. 

You can’t reach her.

Lighthearted small talk lapses into nothing, and you catch yourself wondering whether Ame senses it too. If she has any inkling that the silence that settles between you isn’t the comfortable sort, but the fraying of a tether. A loss of something that once came as naturally as breathing. 

A secret that stretches between you like a wide, yawning chasm, leaving you miles apart on either side.

You nearly tell her a few times. You want to tell her; about Osamu cornering you yesterday, all the awful things they put you through back at Inarizaki, the night of graduation. All of it.

But the words don’t come. 

—

“Why are you wearing that?”

“It’s… a swimsuit?” you reply, somewhat self consciously. The one-piece you’d slipped on for the hot springs was modest, sure, but you hadn’t thought it was awful or anything. “What’s wrong with it?” 

Ame, herself clad in a soft, pink robe, just giggles, “It’s an onsen, silly. We’re not wearing swimsuits.”

What else would you–

Realisation hits you like a freight train. “Naked?!” you splutter. 

She laughs again, “Yes, naked. Why are you so surprised, it’s not like we haven’t done this before.”

“Yeah, when we were alone!” 

“Oh, don’t be like that, it’s totally normal – they’re just bodies.” And yours is nothing they haven’t seen before, that cruel voice in your head whispers. 

The sick feeling from this morning returns with a vengeance. 

Ame’s not wrong, but it’s not that simple. 

You know that being naked isn’t inherently a sexual thing, that people have for hundreds of years, thousands even, bathed in springs like this one all over the country bare as they day they were born and no one makes a fuss over it. You know that the twins’ have seen you in far more compromising positions, and that with Ame right there beside you, the chances of either one of them acting up in any way is practically non-existent.

You know all of that, and it doesn’t change a thing. 

The thought of stepping into those steaming baths without so much as a stitch to protect your dignity, of trying to relax with the twins – equally undressed – less than a foot away–

A weight slung heavy over your waist, prying open sluggish eyes to find your pillow isn’t a pillow at all, but a chest.

– it’s too much. Dredges up memories of things better left alone.

“Actually, um,” you tell her, “my head’s been killing me all morning… I don’t think stewing in hot water’s such a great idea right now. Might go and lie down for a bit instead, see if that helps.”

Ame studies you for a long moment. “They’re not gonna say or do anything to make you feel uncomfortable, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Reaching over, she takes your hand in hers and squeezes it, offering you a small, reassuring smile, “They’re not those guys anymore.”

Your heart tugs painfully. 

“No, I know. It’s not that, I promise.”

From the doubtful, almost wounded expression on her face, it’s clear she doesn’t believe you. “Okay, well… If you change your mind you’re more than welcome to join us. It won’t be as much fun without you.”

You nod, letting your hand fall limply back to your side as she turns to leave. 

At the door, though, she hesitates, and when she glances back to you there’s a furrow in her brow. “Hey, we’re… we’re good right?” she asks, and for the first time all weekend, you think you hear a note of worry in her voice. 

None of this is her fault, you know that. You force yourself to smile, to nod again.

“Yeah, we’re good.”

—

When a knock sounds at your door a few hours later, you’re expecting it to be Ame, coming to check in on you. 

Instead, the door slides open to reveal her boyfriend. 

Atsumu leans against the doorframe, arms folded, and gives you – lying back against the pillows, flicking through an old book you’d found in one of the drawers – a slow once over.

The soft sound of music filters in behind him.

“We missed ya earlier,” is all he says.

As it’s not technically a question, you don’t offer him a response. 

“Ame said you had to go lie down, but you’re lookin’ fine to me,” he continues, and from the tone of his voice you can tell he doesn’t buy the excuse for a second. That, or he simply doesn’t give a shit. “Anyway, we’re having some drinks. You coming, or are ya planning on hidin’ away in here for the rest of the night?”

Your eyes narrow, but you bite back any retort in favour of a short nod. 

Sure enough, when the two of you emerge from your room, Ame and Osamu are chatting over a bowl of snacks, the blonde sporting a pink-ish cocktail, a beer for Osamu. 

There’s another glass lying on the island countertop, which Atsumu grabs on his way through. “Don’t worry, it’s a virgin,” he smirks, pressing it into your hand before you can refuse him. “Sleepin’ beauty here finally decided to join us,” he announces a little louder, dropping a kiss to Ame’s cheek as he slots into place beside her. “Can we drink now?”

Sighing with a fond sort of exasperation, Ame ignores the comment. “How’re you feeling?” 

“Yeah, much better.”

She smiles at you, warm and lovely, and raises her glass, “Yes, Tsumu, now we can drink.”

You follow suit as the twins do the same; one sip for a toast won’t do any harm. You don’t have the energy – or a good enough excuse – to make a big deal out of it. 

Especially not when things with Ame still feel so precarious. 

Atsumu shifts, turning slightly to better face her. “Ame, I love ya more ‘n more every day. Bein’ with you…” he smiles. Not a smirk, but a genuine, honest to god smile. “You’ve given me more than you’ll ever know. Happy Birthday, baby.” 

Coaxing her chin up, you’re subjected to a tongue-heavy but mercifully brief kiss between the pair. 

“Cheers,” Osamu finishes in his stead, the three of you echoing the toast with a knock of your drinks. 

The first sip of the pink concoction hits with a wave of saccharine sweetness; strawberry, peach, mint, a weird sort of aftertaste that lingers even after you swallow the mouthful down – syrup, maybe? – but when all’s said and done, it’s not… awful. You’ve had worse.

Ame, for her part, has already downed most of her cocktail, her cheeks and nose flushing a delicate pink in the wake of the alcohol. 

“So tell us about this fancy new job of yours. When‘re ya moving back?” Atsumu asks, eyeing you over the neck of his beer as his girlfriend snuggles happily into his side.

“Um, not for another three weeks or so.” You shrug, “And there’s really not much to tell… It’s a job.” And you don’t want them anywhere near it. 

“She’s being modest,” Ame chimes in, voice carrying a little louder than necessary. “They’re making her editor, it’s a huge deal! She’s worked her ass off for this.”

You’d said as much to her the day they made you the offer, called her before you’d even thought to call your parents. 

From her place by Atsumu’s side, she gives you a tiny, encouraging nod.

Any other time, with anybody else, you’d beam, taking the opportunity presented to gush over the new title and your excitement over finally making it after years of hard work. But with the twins, every little piece you offer up, however small, however unwittingly, feels like handing them the knife and showing where to slice. 

This job is everything you’ve worked for, dreamed of.

Fingers tightening around your glass, you remind yourself that Ame means well, that she’s just excited on your behalf. Proud of you, even. “It’s really nothing.” 

And simply because you can’t stand the way that they’re all staring at you, you take another sip – barely holding back a grimace at the punch of artificial sweetness.

The older twin mirrors you, throat bobbing as he slowly downs the rest of his beer, but it’s Osamu, cold, grey eyes drinking down your discomfort, who clicks his tongue dismissively and shakes his head. “Nah, don’t sell yourself short. It’s impressive, ‘n ya should be proud.”

“Oh, uh… Thanks, I guess.” 

You risk a glance at the empty kitchen, a tug of disappointment filling you when you notice Atsumu’s chef has yet to make an appearance. Not because you’re hungry – no, with the knots your stomach has twisted itself into, food is the furthest thing from your mind – only that with dinner comes the chance of a much needed reprieve, and at this point, you’re beginning to grow desperate.

“Yeah,” his brother agrees, setting the now empty bottle down. “Samu’s right, look at’cha.” He whistles lowly, “Who’da thought our cocksuckin’ little whore’d be out here making editor.” 

Reeling back like you’ve been physically slapped, your breath leaves you in a sharp gust. “W-what?”

Ame mumbles something – his name, maybe – your attention is wholly fixed on her boyfriend, though, and if either of the twins pick up on it, they elect to ignore it. 

He shrugs, the casual nonchalance of the gesture spoiled by the sheer delight that gleams in his expression. “I’m just surprised s’all. I never knew ya had it in ya, but I guess anythin’s possible when ya get on your knees quick enough.”

“Tsu…Tsumu–”

The sound of glass shattering rips through the tense atmosphere, pulling your focus from the twins. Ame, brow furrowed, eyes glassy and unfocused, stares at her boyfriend, mouth softly agape. 

At her feet lies her cocktail, or what’s left of it – dregs of alcohol clinging to broken shards of crystal.

Something’s wrong, though, because she isn’t cuddling up to Atsumu as you’d originally assumed. No, Ame’s clinging to him now, fingers clawing at his clothes for purchase, her legs shaky and weak, struggling to keep her upright. 

“I- I don’ feel s’good,” she slurs.

Your heart stutters. 

“Ame–”

Without thinking you leap towards her, but Osamu’s there quicker, grabbing you and hauling you back against his chest, thick arms curling around your waist before you can shove him away. 

His chin comes to a rest atop your head. “Nah, let her be,” he tells you,“ Tsumu’s got her.” 

And his brother might be the olympic athlete, but broad and strong, Osamu’s equally as immovable as you wrench yourself against him. “Let me go! Ame– Ame!”

Her legs give out entirely a moment later, leaving Atsumu to catch her in the split seconds before she hits the glass studded floor. 

“Y’all right, baby?” he asks mockingly, reaching down to heft her up into his arms. Tiny as she is, he manages it without so much as a grunt. “Gettin’ a little sloppy there.”

You shout for her again, voice hoarse and desperate. 

She tries – fails – to lift her head, and the icy terror that grips at your heart sinks its claws in deep as you watch your best friend’s eyes roll back into her skull, her body slumping like dead weight into Atsumu’s hold. 

This– this has to be a nightmare. 

Your gaze darts from Ame, now hanging limply in his grip, to Atsumu, who meets your stare with a slowly widening smirk, and from a leaden tongue in a dry mouth, you manage to choke out a single syllable; “Don’t–”

Don’t touch her. Don’t hurt her. 

Please. 

It falls to Osamu, hand now rubbing slow, soothing circles against your hip, to reassure you. “Not her ya need to be worried ‘bout, babe.”

The comment sends a fresh wave of panic surging through you. You whine, weakly renewing your effort to tug yourself free of his grasp, making him chuckle. 

He relents his grip enough to turn you around, and you’re spared the sight of Atsumu dumping Ame onto the couch as he grasps your jaw. The brunet studies you, a thumb tracing along quivering lips. 

A lone tear slips from your lashes, and with a tenderness that breaks something inside of you, he brushes that away, too.

“Gonna be good for us, yeah?” he murmurs, dark eyes searching your face. You’re vaguely aware of Atsumu closing in on your other side.

And it doesn’t matter that the words get stuck in your throat, that tears start falling quicker, because his twins scoffs, “Course she is.” 

Your car’s parked out front, the keys in your purse – which is lying somewhere on the floor of your bedroom. As Osamu’s lips curl in satisfaction and descend upon yours, there’s a tiny voice in the back of your head that tells you in no uncertain terms to run. 

You can almost picture it; shoving him off and ducking under Atsumu’s outstretched arms. You’ve never held any delusions about being strong enough to physically fight them, but you can be quick on your feet when you need to be. 

Forget Ame, it whispers – you’d race for your room, snatching up your purse on your way through and slipping out onto the terrace balcony through the sliding door. The railing with its thick wooden beams would be easy enough to clamber over, and the drop to the grass below only a few feet. You could make it, if you were fast enough.

You doubt they’d follow you out into the grounds – too much of a risk, too many prying eyes – and once you were safe inside your car, you’d drive and drive and drive, until the twins and this awful place were nothing but a lone speck in the distance…

Hands impatiently yank at the hem of your sweater, Osamu parting from your lips just long enough to allow the fabric to be yanked over your head.

A belt buckle clinks behind you, and that tiny voice falls silent. 

#yandere haikyuu #yandere atsumu x reader #yandere miya atsumu x reader #yandere osamu x reader #yandere miya osamu x reader #yandere osamu #yandere atsumu #tw: noncon #tw:dubcon #you ever just wanna throw a fic across the room?? #:))

[ofmermaidstories]

okay while i have been rolling around in bed sick i have had plenty of time to think and ponder priorities in regards to my WIPs so i think in order we’re gonna go:

📝 motivating the marquess, my leg in the regency fic [posted in its entirety]

📝 chapter one of still (falling for you), Shouto’s fic and the third and final part of the Big 3 series

📝 the first one-shot in this love (is ours), the Bakugou/Weeds collection that dovetails the Big 3 series.

and then way way way later, in october—

📝 帰省, the halloween/ghost one-shot.

these are my guaranteed projects for this year! i was going to post 帰省 (homecoming), the halloween one-shot whenever i finished it, but to be honest the heat of summer has kind of ruined the mood of writing it for me LMAO. 💀 it’s too sticky to care about being haunted. 😩 i’ve been disappointed with myself for not delivering that in time for last halloween—immensely, actually, because i dearly love all these silly little celebrations we have for ourselves and i wanted to play and also tbh i just wanted to do something different. 🥺 but there’s no point in beating ourselves up!!! it’s boring. 😌 so we will just have to make sure it’s ready for this year. 😌🙏🏽

the sun god’s bride isn’t on the list mostly bc i work on it randomly. 💀 i’m thinking of like, getting at least the next two chapters of it done though before i start posting again. 🧐 or maybe just going flat out on it after the shouto fic is established, and finishing it? 🧐🧐 will revise.

i wanna post motivating first for two reasons: it’ll be completed in its entirety, and then it gets it outta the way for our bigger, more long-distance projects. 🥹 still + this love will be posted roughly around the same time, with still coming first.

everything else—random drabbles here or any spontaneous WIPs—will just have to fill in the gaps! but these ones make up my concrete goals for this year. ✨💪🏽🥹 anything else will be a fun bonus lmaooo. but thank-you, as always, for bearing with me. 🥺 let’s make 2024 a year of stories. 📖✨

#housekeeping 🧺🌷🌿

[farahsamboolents]

stranger things major dates:

(this is actually part of a much larger post i plan on making, with a loooot of background bullshit that nobody cares about, but this is just the dates :P please note that it took me a while to get the hang of this note taking thing so it’ll get more accurate as the seasons progress, feel free to fact check me)

(other thing to notes: I'm assuming that all of these dates are one after the other or even simultaneously, but according to wikis online, the timeline is much more stretched out, implying that there are other days we don't see.)

S1

Will went missing on November 6th, 1983. There were search parties November 6th and 7th; on November 7th there was the big storm and it was called off.

Steve’s party was on a Tuesday . Steve broke Jonathan’s camera the next day, which was the day of the funeral, as well as the day Will was rescued .

[UPDATE: i missed a day in here, because Steve breaking the camera was a catalyst for Nancy seeing the photos, which led to Nancy and Jonathan going monster hunting, and they spent the night together before Will was rescued. Sorry for the goof!]

Other dates mentioned:

Joyce has worked at Melvalds for ten years

According to Hop, the last missing person was summer of 23, last suicide in 61.

Seven years prior (1976) there was a drowning in the quarry

S2

The season starts on October 30th

Mike says into the walkie that it’s day 352

el tells hop on November 1st that it’s day 326 (since she moved in with Hop). She runs away on day 327.

Wills birthday is March 22nd.

The time skip is implied to be late November/early December (okay honestly i don’t remember how i came to this conclusion, it’s just in my notes. I think the title card must’ve said “one month later” or something.)

^ this is when Hawkins lab gets raided by govt vehicles with Murray watching, as well as Hop getting El’s forged birth certificate. The Snow Ball is around this time as well.

Other dates mentioned:

“Last month a coworker of Ted Wheeler’s” discussed El. Not sure how he blabbed after almost an entire year.

Steve was aiming for early application into college, which was closing soon.

Steve and Nancy were working on their Halloween costumes for “a stupid amount of time”.

At some point between S1 & 2, they took Will to a doctor in Chicago.

Nancy says she waited. Jonathan says only a month.

S3

The only actual date on the timeline I noted was the fourth of July. Sorry. I'd have to count backwards for the rest of the plot points and I guarantee I will count wrong.

There is a time skip for three months later, which would now be October 1985.

Other dates mentioned:

El watches Miami Vice on Fridays. It starts at 10.

The Hawkins Post tagline says "Courage in Journalism since 1947".

The Journal Tribune publishes an article headlined "SCANDAL ROCKS SMALL TOWN" about Starcourt on July 11th, 1985

The Indianapolis Gazette publishes an article headlined "THIRTY DEAD", and the subheader reads "Hero Chief Dies in Fire" on July 15th, 1985

The Journal Tribune publishes an article headlined "MAYOR UNDER FIRE", and above it there is text that reads "Hawkins makes headlines around the nation" on July 12th, 1985

After the three month time skip, a news special on Channel 4 WCPK-TV links Satanism and D&D for the first time within the show

The Byers are packing up after the time skip. Jonathan says, "Seventeen years of my life. Packed up in one day." (kind of impressive tbh)

Mike initially planned on visiting the Byers for Thanksgiving, and El is supposed to come back for Christmas (this obviously does not happen).

S4

The massacre at Hawkins Lab was September 8th, 1979.

(apparently I neglected to take note of any actual Date Dates after this)

The season starts on the Friday before Spring break.

Mike arrives in Lenora on Saturday morning.

El is arrested on Sunday.

Joyce and Murray are told to meet Yuri in two days on a Saturday, which means that episode takes place on a Monday.

The original Creel murders happened in 1959.

When Erica yells at Jason, she says she's been covering for Lucas for two days.

The faux reference latter that Nancy has for Director Hatch is dated March 29th, 1986

Lucas and Max agree to a movie date the following Friday

The death toll two days later is 22

Other dates mentioned:

Max sees Miss Kelly on Thursdays

The Indianapolis Gazette published an article headlined "3 Dead as Police Probe Grisly Scene" about Creel on Thursday, March 18, 1959 (the text on the date is super blurry, I'm mostly confident I got Thursday and March right but I can only mostly tell the date is two digits, and the first digit is a 1)

Victor Creel was back from war for 14 years when he bought the house in Hawkins

Billy was born March 29, 1967

The Nina Project was named after the opera Nina by Nicolas Dalayrac in 1786

Dustin's birthday is in two months, three days, and five hours (from when they reach Suzie)

The dates on Brenner's tapes:

Dustin's shirt says "Craftsbury Banjo Contest" with the year 1986 on it

The Hawkins Presbyterian Church was constructed in 1897

#Stranger Things #Stranger Things timeline #Stranger Things fanfic #Stranger Things Fanfiction #Hawkins #i would like to thank ios for letting me copy text directly from images for saving my ass on that alt text #amboolents originals #amboolents idea