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#like I'll be reminded of these things by her stories every now and then
astrophileous · 8 months
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Every Single Day
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader
Synopsis: When his daughter demands him to tell the story of how the two of you met, Spencer can't help but oblige.
Warning(s): dad spencer🥰, established relationship (eventually), parent-child relationships, alcohol consumption, brief interaction with a douchebag, made-up astronomy facts, made-up places, idk if there's any cursing but I'll throw it in here to be safe, implications of sex and nsfw themes (minors be advised), pregnancy, mentions of illness, mentions and/or implications of character death, topics of loss and grief, angst and fluff because I love the best of both worlds👍 (pls lmk if I missed anything)
Word Count: 7700-ish
Author's Note: hi 👋 I'm back again with another dad!spencer fic bc apparently I'm a sucker for him. I got a lil carried away with this one lol but anyways, I'm also writing this for the meet cute challenge hosted by the amazing and talented @imagining-in-the-margins so pls go head to her profile and show some love cause she's a peach ❤️ don't forget to leave a LIKE+COMMENT+REBLOG
Criminal Minds Masterlist
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The air smelled of freshly brewed coffee. Against the wind, shades of crimson and orange swayed on the trees. Fallen leaves crunched underneath his feet to the cadence of his leisured steps.
Two deep breaths, in and out. Spencer Reid greeted autumn with the deep longing of an old friend.
Next to him walked a source of light bigger than the sun, jumping and bouncing excitedly on the sidewalk. Her tiny fingers emitted warmth inside of his hand. There was a skip to her step that reminded him of the innocence he had long lost. The innocence she now possessed.
Spencer loved this little girl beyond everything he had ever known.
"Puddle, Dee."
The tiny bundle of joy jumped to escape the small pool of water, grinning up at her father, who then began ruffling her hair until she evaded his onslaught with a shriek.
"Daddy?"
"Yes, Pumpkin?"
"You never told me how you met Mommy."
Spencer glanced down at the 6-year-old, dressed gorgeously in her favorite floral dress, complete with a sweater that had entailed a hearty discussion about humans' perception of cold. It was only after he bribed her with the promise of a chocolate cupcake from Wakey Bakey did Spencer finally convince her to wear the woolen piece of clothing.
His daughter stared at him with a radiant smile peeking out behind a curtain of hair. A smile which Spencer always argued had belonged to you, even though the rest of Diana Aurora Reid was the splitting image of her beloved father.
"Surely I've told you before, Dee."
"Nuh-uh."
"Of course I have."
"No, Daddy. You haven't."
"Pumpkin, you know I don't forget stuff ever," Spencer said, looking at the little girl who was swaying along to the rhythm of her footsteps. "I used to tell you that story all the time. Back when you were still a baby."
Just as predicted, Diana let out a dramatic gasp as if Spencer had uttered the most offensive thing known to mankind; like claiming the earth was actually flat, for example. Spencer couldn't contain his grin upon seeing her reaction.
"But Daddy, that was so long ago!"
"Do you not remember, Dee?"
Diana shook her head.
"Fine. But Mommy must've told you the story already, right?"
"She has, but--"
"But?"
"But I wanna hear it from you."
Little Diana knew that her father could never resist her puppy dog eyes, especially garnished with that adorable pout on top. Once upon a time, you declared it sickeningly cute and annoying whenever Spencer would pull the same trick on you. When Dee started doing the same to him, you had simply laughed and kissed his cheek, letting him get a sweet taste of his own medicine.
Spencer smiled at the young girl next to him, squeezing her nose and relishing in the gleeful squeal that echoed from her chest.
"What do you wanna hear, Pumpkin?"
Diana held her chin, seemingly deep in contemplation before deciding, "Everything, Dad! I wanna hear it from the start."
"The start, huh?" Spencer hummed thoughtfully, his mind already reeling back to the first moment he ever laid eyes on you.
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The story began on yet another ordinary Friday night.
Luck was on the BAU's side when the team managed to wrap the case they had been working all week just before Friday afternoon. By the time the sun was setting, their jet was already high up in the sky, en route from the state of Delaware to Quantico, Virginia. Spencer was looking forward to going home at a reasonable hour for once--maybe catching up on the four reading materials he had promptly pushed aside after his team was called to Delaware to work on the latest case--but that plan dissipated when Derek Morgan suddenly appeared by his side.
"Drinks. Tonight. Everyone's coming, and I'm not taking no for an answer," Derek said before dragging a reluctant Spencer away with him, ignoring the protests that the younger man kept grumbling under his breath all the way to the team's favorite bar.
Spencer just hadn't known it yet, but later down the road, he would spend the rest of eternity thanking Derek Morgan for dragging him along that night.
The Friday night crowd at Shaw's was borderline brutal, but fortunately for the team, a booth in the corner became vacant the moment they stepped into the threshold.
Two hours later, Spencer's fellow teammates weren't even close to calling it a night. The last chorus of "I Wanna Dance with Somebody" by Whitney Houston had just finished blasting from the speakers when Derek sauntered back to the booth, twirling a flushed Penelope Garcia in front of him. Spencer slipped out of the booth to allow them in--preferring to stay on the most outer seat instead of crammed between his tipsy friends' bodies--before sitting down once more.
"Hey, Genius," Penelope called, waving her empty beer glass in front of Spencer's face. "Be a darling and get me a refill, will you?"
"Garcia--" Spencer quickly snatched the glass from her hand before she could send it smashing against someone's head, "--are you sure you want a refill?"
Penelope scrunched her nose. "Why do you ask?"
"Because I think you're plenty drunk already."
"I'm not that drunk," Penelope denied, giggling when an unexpected hiccup interrupted her slurred words. "Derek, tell the beautiful Doctor I'm not that drunk."
"She's not that drunk, Reid." Derek grinned. "While you're at it..."
Spencer could only sigh when Derek slid his own empty glass across the table.
It was past 10 o'clock at night, and the crowd of people in the establishment seemed to have doubled in the couple of hours that the team had been there. Spencer had to squeeze himself through the ocean of patrons flooding the bar, barely able to move his limbs without other people's arms or elbows bumping against his ribcage.
Spencer was waiting for the bartender to complete his order when he happened to glance towards his right, catching sight of the concealed panic that triggered every profiler bone in his body.
Any other person would have taken one look at your face and presumed that everything was alright, but Spencer knew better. He recognized the frantic movement of your eyes, the tight press of your lips, and the impatient knocking of your fingertips on the counter. He only caught the tail end of your voice before discreetly listening to what the man you were talking to had to say.
"--so, unfortunately, I can't."
"I told you, Baby. My Veyron runs at over 260 miles per hour. We can go to Red Clover Hill and get you back home safely by twelve. It's simple math," the guy slurred smugly.
"Actually, that's not true."
The drunken man turned around at Spencer's interruption.
"Excuse me?"
"The Red Clover Hill State Park is approximately 229 miles away from here. Though theoretically, you could drive your Veyron at its maximum velocity, which is around 268 miles per hour, it's very unlikely you'll be able to maintain that speed for the entirety of the ride, considering the terrain you would have to go through between here and there. The fastest you can probably get to the park is in 60 minutes, give or take, and that's being generous. You would have to drive back to D.C. as soon as you arrive at the park if you wish to be back by twelve. It's just realistically impossible."
The man in front of him couldn't be less impressed by Spencer's lengthy rant.
"And who the hell are you?" the drunken guy said, pinning Spencer with a stare that was clearly supposed to be intimidating.
Spencer didn't even flinch. "No one. Just a guy who happens to know a lot about... simple math."
Your loud cough tore Spencer's attention away from the drunk man and towards you, who looked ready to burst from the laughter you were holding underneath. Even under the terrible lighting of the bar, Spencer could still pinpoint the hint of unspoken amusement glimmering inside your eyes.
"Sorry, Bill," you said to the man. "I really do need to be back home by twelve tonight. Maybe some other time?"
Bill didn't need to be told twice. He received the message loud and clear.
Spencer watched the other man scurry away, tail between his legs, before your charming smile enraptured him once more.
"Thank you for that. I was beginning to think he might never leave."
"Happy to help." Spencer smiled thinly, scratching the back of his neck even though the spot wasn't itchy. "What did, uh, why did he want to take you to Red Clover Hill, of all places?"
"Oh. That was... partially my fault." You grinned innocently. "I didn't know he was gonna be an insufferable drunk when he came over, and I was in the middle of watching this."
You pulled out a silver tablet from your lap. Spencer took a peek at the screen, seeing what looked like a live feed of the night sky--over North Carolina, judging by the visible constellations on the vast scene--stamped with the day's date at the bottom of the footage.
"You're watching the Roux-Nell?" Spencer deduced after gathering the facts: the live feed of North Carolina sky, the mention of Red Clover Hill State Park that harbored one of the highest grounds in North Carolina, including a collection of some of the most sophisticated telescopes in the country; you must have been planning to view that night's sighting of the Roux-Nell comet, its first time since the last one in 1927, and only its third one in history.
"Yes! How did you... don't tell me. You're an avid astronomy fan, too?"
Spencer's responding smile only made you beam even brighter.
"Anyway, that guy earlier, Bill, he approached me and asked what I was watching. So, I started talking about the Roux-Nell and about how I wish I was at Red Clover Hill right now since everyone keeps saying it's one of the best spots to view tonight's sighting. I thought he was genuinely interested until he started talking about his Veyron this, his Veyron that. I didn't even realize until a whole five minutes later that he was talking about his car!"
When you finally finished explaining, your eyes locked with Spencer's hazel ones before you seemed to cower shyly.
"Sorry. I can get a little excited when I'm talking sometimes."
"No! Don't be, it was--" Spencer stopped himself before he could complete his sentence.
What was he about to say?
Insightful? Entertaining?
Endearing?
Eventually, Spencer opted to settle for something safe and simple. "I get that way too, sometimes. A lot of the times, actually. So you don't have to apologize."
The fire flickered back inside your gaze following Spencer's admission. It burned brilliantly beneath the kindness you radiated, forged by the sharp intelligence he could see shining out of your eyes.
"So--" Spencer cleared his throat, attempting to shift the conversation in order to distract his racing mind, "--why did you tell him you needed to be back home by twelve?"
"Oh, that? I told him I'm donating blood tomorrow morning, so I need to at least get seven hours of sleep for the night."
"That's a clever lie."
You tilted your head slightly at his statement. "What makes you think it's a lie?"
"Because you're here. Nobody drinks alcohol before they're supposed to donate blood."
Your eyes flashed with surprise. "Not bad, Mister. You're very perceptive."
Spencer shrugged, trying not to appear too flustered by your casual compliment. "It's what I do."
You raised an inquisitive eyebrow at his reply.
"I'm a profiler."
"Profiler?"
"With the FBI."
"FBI, huh?" You hummed, something akin to intrigue swirling in your eyes. "So, you study criminals? Trying to decipher their way of thinking, why they do what they do. Dissect their past history for any related trauma, maybe even pinpoint a psychological stressor that could trigger a criminal behavior, that kind of stuff?"
Upon hearing your response, it was Spencer's turn to be intrigued. "Exactly that kind of stuff. How did you...?"
Grinning sheepishly, you pulled a professional badge out of your pocket, holding it up in front of Spencer so he could see the emblem covering its surface.
"Edgewater Psychology Center," Spencer read the words aloud, understanding dawning on him as he found your eyes once more. "You're a psychologist."
"Guilty as charged."
Spencer couldn't fight off his amused smile. "That explains it, then."
"You know," you began, leaning further against the bar counter to shorten the distance between you and Spencer, "I've never met a profiler in person before. Most of my colleagues, they have consulted on a federal case at least once in the past few years, but the bureau hasn't yet contacted me so far."
"Really?" Spencer took a step forward, closing the distance by a mere inch. "Sounds like a big loss for us. We're idiots."
You bit down on your bottom lip to suppress a smile, your gaze flicking between Spencer's own lips and eyes. For the shortest of minutes, nothing else existed in Spencer's world but you; your smile, your scent, and your kind eyes. You were a magnet carved out of his wildest dreams, and Spencer, well, he might as well have been made out of the purest of irons.
But before Spencer could get lost deeper in your relentless gaze, a shout of his name slashed through the air from across the bar. Back at the booth, Derek was waving his hand frantically in the air, stopping only when Spencer signaled him to sit back down and that he was returning in a minute.
"I have to go." He smiled tentatively, apologetically.
"Oh?"
Spencer tried not to revel too much over the small dip of disappointment at the edge of your voice.
"My friends. They, uh--"
"Oh, no, it's alright. You don't have to explain," you told him gently. "See you around, Mr. Profiler. Hope you have a great night."
With that said, you went back to watching the live feed on your tablet while Spencer, begrudgingly, trudged across the room with two refilled beer glasses in his hands, back to where his friends--minus Rossi and Hotch who were conversing among themselves at one of the standing tables--were waiting.
"Finally," Derek groaned once Spencer slammed the glasses down on the table.
"Who was that?" Emily asked as he slipped into the booth.
"Huh?" Spencer followed Emily's gaze, finding you perched up at the very end of it. "No one."
"No one?" Emily's eyebrows rose. "She didn't seem like no one from where I was sitting."
Spencer took an insanely large sip of his leftover beer.
"Holy shit, you like her, " Derek muttered. "He likes her. Pretty boy's got a crush."
"No, I don't."
"Yeah? Tell that to those red cheeks of yours." JJ chuckled.
Instinctively, Spencer touched his own cheeks as if he could physically feel the change of colors on his skin.
"I'm just tipsy," he tried to reason.
A collective scoff reverberated through the entire booth.
"What's her name, Spence?" JJ asked.
When a full minute ticked by without so much as a grunt of acknowledgment from Spencer, Penelope reached out and slapped the man right across his shoulder.
"Ow!"
"You didn't ask for her name?!" Penelope exclaimed.
"It didn't come up!"
"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard you say, Reid," Emily noted before sipping her margarita.
"Nope. I'm not having this. Not tonight. Look at me, Sunshine." Penelope grabbed Spencer's face in her hands, forcing him to stare directly into her glasses-rimmed eyes. "I'm not letting you spend the rest of the night like this. You will get your cute little tushy out there and talk to that girl. You will get her name and also her number, maybe even ask the nice pretty lady out while you're at it. Now, have I made myself clear?"
Spencer barely managed to swallow his nerves before he offered Penelope two tiny nods.
"Good. I don't wanna see your face back here if you're not at least pocketing her phone number. Now shoo."
Penelope sent Spencer flying across the bar with a dramatic stumble. By the time he reached your side, Spencer was nothing less than a stuttering mess and a thundering heart.
"Hi," Spencer breathed out once he found your welcoming eyes.
"Um, hi?"
"I'm Spencer."
"Okay... Spencer?"
"Reid. Spencer Reid." He cleared his throat. "Sorry, it's just... I realized while I was sitting over there--well, my friends actually made me realize--that I, uh, never got your name. Which, you know, of course I never got it because I didn't ask. So, I was coming here, wondering if maybe you'd like to give it... to me?"
You blinked once. Twice.
By the third blink, Spencer wished the earth would open up and devour him whole.
"You want my name?"
Spencer nodded.
"What are you planning to do with it?"
"Call you?" At your bemused expression, Spencer quickly elaborated, "Not call like call. I meant referring. Yep. That's it. Although, maybe if you want to, I would love to call you as well. Sometime. And perhaps, you know, ask you out... on a date?"
Spencer swallowed the lump of nervousness in his throat. In front of him, you were pretty, even with the conspicuous scrutiny in your eyes as they assessed Spencer as if he was some sort of an enigma. Embarrassment burned hotter through his veins with every second that passed by. He was merely two exhales of breath away from dashing out of the door when you finally spoke up.
"Okay."
"Okay?"
Smiling, you produced an old receipt seemingly out of thin air and asked the bartender to lend you a pen, scribbling something down as soon as you had it between your fingers. When the tiny piece of paper emigrated to Spencer's hand, the Cheshire cat in him jumped out once he noticed the ten digit numbers written neatly underneath a name he could only assume as yours.
"Will that be enough, Spencer Reid?"
"For now," Spencer replied before grabbing his wallet and shoving the paper containing your name inside. "I'll call you."
"You better."
After Spencer's departure, you returned your attention back to the tablet in front of you. Barely five minutes later, though, your serene watching session was once again interrupted. Only this time, it was by the ringing of your phone.
"Hello?"
"Hi, this is Spencer."*
Surprised, you swiveled your head left and right, stopping once you spotted Spencer standing on the other side of the room. His eyes were trained towards you, and behind him, a booth of four people seemed to have directed their attention at you as well.
"Spencer?"
"I know this is very untoward," he began, "but would you like to go out with me?"
"Boy, you certainly don't waste any time at all, do you?"
"I believe it's called being efficient," he countered, making you laugh. "So, what do you say?"
"Sure," you answered, enjoying the way Spencer beam at you from across the room. "I would love to, Spencer."
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A breeze blew gently against Spencer's face, caressing the tendrils of curly hair that had fallen over his forehead. Diana's little fingers started to grip his tighter as the wind strengthened.
"Did you take Mommy on that date, Daddy?"
"Of course," Spencer replied, reminiscing the exact day when he had picked you up in your apartment, sweat glistening on his palm as he clutched the bouquet of flowers in his right hand. "We went to see a Mark Rothko exhibition at the National Gallery of Art, and before I took her home, we stopped by Wakey Bakey to buy some lemon tarts."
Diana gasped. "Wakey Bakey?!"
The little girl's reaction compelled a chuckle from Spencer's chest. "Yes, Pumpkin. Wakey Bakey."
"What happened after that, Daddy?"
"What do you think happened after that, Dee?"
"Um--" Diana pursed her lips, deeply lost in thought, "--did you become girlfriend and boyfriend?"
"Yes, we did."
"And you got married?!"
Spencer laughed at Diana's apparent excitement over the prospect of her parents getting married. "We did, yeah, eventually. After I proposed to her."
"Oh! Oh! The proposal!" Diana exclaimed, jumping up and down in the middle of the sidewalk without a care in the world. Spencer had to tug her back towards him before she could harm herself or the other pedestrians. "Tell me! Tell me! Tell me about the proposal, Daddy!"
"You wanna hear the story about how I proposed to your mother?"
"Yes, please!"
Chuckling to himself, Spencer mumbled a quick fine before his gears had started turning towards a specific memory in his mind. Spencer was sure, even without his eidetic ability, there was no way he could have ever forgotten about the day in question.
The day you agreed to have him as your forever.
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Spencer had fallen in love with you during the first date, right around the time of yet another one of his animated ramblings, where instead of shaming him to shut the hell up, you had simply stared at him in awe and said, "You're pretty when you talk."
The young agent was sure he couldn't get rid of the blush adorning his cheeks for at least an entire week.
By the time the fifth date rolled around, Spencer was absolutely certain that you were the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. It wasn't a surprise, then, that a few weeks before your first anniversary came up, Spencer had pocketed a diamond ring with a promise of forever on the tip of his tongue.
Combing the courage to take this historical leap was easy. Difficult was trying to conjure up the perfect proposal plan that he would deem worthy enough for someone like you. There were no rooms for mistakes. Spencer wanted everything to be perfect because he believed you deserved nothing less.
Which was why, in moments of desperation, Spencer ended up turning to his fellow teammates in the FBI for help.
"I don't know if I'm the right person to ask about this, Spence. Will only ever proposed to me after finding out about Henry, and we only got married after I thought he was gonna die on the field," JJ explained. "It was never the most ideal of situations, but I would never change a thing even if I could."
Unsatisfied with JJ's answer, Spencer proceeded to find the BAU's tech genius in her bat cave.
"Go big or go home, my friend," Penelope said following a 10-minute hysteria she erupted into upon learning about Spencer's intent to propose. "Splash out on the bottle. Don't hold back on the grandeur. Spend all of your savings if you have to."
"Garcia--"
"Fine, maybe not all of your savings. You should leave some for the wedding."
Spencer spent weeks mulling over Penelope's advice.
Working as an FBI agent didn't pay as well as most people thought it would, and Spencer's tendency to collect first edition books wasn't exactly an affordable hobby. It meant that as much as Spencer wanted a proposal filled with the greatest grandeur--just as Penelope had suggested--he didn't have a fat enough balance in his bank account to make his ideal proposal concept a reality.
And Spencer probably would have spent the limited fund in his savings down to its very last cent, had it not been for Derek catching him browsing through the internet for the cost of a hot air balloon ride.
"I just want to give her the perfect proposal," Spencer admitted after he finished revealing everything.
"Kid, it doesn't matter," Derek said. "Don't you see? She doesn't care about hot air balloons or any kind of grandeur. She only cares about you. There's no such thing as a perfect proposal. You're just using it as an excuse to put off asking her 'cause you're scared of what she's gonna say. But you don't need to. You two are so devastatingly in love, it's disgusting."
In the end, grandeur wasn't even present in the room when Spencer decided to pop the question.
On that particular night, Spencer arrived in his apartment just a few minutes before midnight. His aching muscles were calling for sleep as he toed his shoes off, but his footsteps soon ceased when he caught sight of his dimly lit living room.
You were fast asleep on the couch, face illuminated by the television light. Spencer's movements were careful as he knelt in front of you, studying the soft and hard edges of your features like historians would an ancient scripture. He couldn't help it when his fingers reached out on their own accord, brushing the softest of touches against the high point of your cheekbone. Inside its cage, Spencer's heart started to stir.
You were so beautiful.
Even after one year of being together, Spencer was often still taken back by how lovely you were. He adored every detail of your being, most fervently the scars that littered your skin in a constellation of stars. All of the places in your body where your scrutiny had wandered in a fleet of insecurity were the same places that Spencer wanted to worship for the rest of his life. In his eyes, you were eternally magnificent, and this thought clouded Spencer's mind as he went to shake your shoulder gently.
"Spencer?" Your groggy voice sounded meek in the comfort of Spencer's apartment, the same one he had been sharing with you since you moved in three months prior. Your lips tilted with the tiniest hint of a smile at the sight of him, and Spencer thought he would melt when your fingers instinctively reached for his face. "You're back."
"I'm back," he confirmed, leaving a trail of kisses on your palm. "Why aren't you in bed, my love?"
"I was waiting for you," you admitted. "I have something to say."
"Really? Me too."
"Hm?" Curiosity flared in the center of your eyes. "You first."
Smiling, Spencer leaned down to steal a quick kiss before saying, "Marry me."
Your breath hitched.
After a few seconds of silence, your nervous laughter filled his ears. "Right. That's a nice one, Spencer. Very funny."
"I'm not joking, sweetheart."
Spencer reached into the inside pocket of his satchel, pulling out the velvet box that had weighed down his bag by several grams for the past few weeks. Any remnant of sleep you still had in your eyes was instantly washed away the moment he opened the box to reveal a pretty ring sitting inside.
"I've had this for a while now," Spencer admitted. "I kept putting off asking you because I believed I wanted everything to be perfect, until Derek knocked some sense into my head and made me realize that I was just afraid of taking the leap. He's right, as always, but don't tell him I said that."
Spencer paused at your teary laugh, relishing in the melodic sound that made his heart nearly burst in two. "My love, I don't need the perfect proposal when you're the promise of a perfect life. Any life with you is the one I want to live for the rest of my time, and I want to start living that life from this point onward. What do you say, sweetheart? Will you marry me?"
Spencer never thought the word yes could sound so incredibly spectacular.
The celebration had started right away, commemorated by the shedding of clothes from each other's bodies, finalized by panting breaths and entangled limbs beneath rumpled sheets. You lay on the bed with your palm on Spencer's chest, his own hand tracing invisible patterns on the vast canvass of your skin.
Spencer watched as you stared at the ring circling your finger. "Do you like it? We can exchange it for a new one if--"
"Spencer Reid, don't you dare."
"Apologies, ma'am." He grinned, continuing the random patterns he was drawing on your skin before he spoke again, "By the way, you said you also have something to tell me."
You looked up at him with a blinding smile before scooting out of Spencer's arm and reaching for the nightstand. When Spencer saw what you had rummaged out of the bedside drawer, Spencer thought his heart had forgotten how to beat.
"Is that--"
"Surprise," you murmured giddily, handing over the object in your hand into Spencer's awaiting palm. "I found out yesterday, but I wanted to tell you in person."
Spencer sat up on the bed, staring with disbelief at the small item in his hand. He only realized he had started to cry when a drop of tears fell down, blurring the two tiny pink lines in his vision.
"This is... you're..."
"I'm pregnant, Spencer," you professed.
Just an hour earlier, Spencer thought the word yes was the best thing he could ever hear falling from your mouth. But as he held you in his arms, his lips catching yours once more in a heated kiss, Spencer realized that you had many more surprising admissions waiting to be said out loud.
And Spencer couldn't wait to spend the rest of his life listening to every single one of them.
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"Daddy, are you saying I was already in Mommy's belly when you proposed to her?"
"Yes, you were, Pumpkin," Spencer said, smiling at the blatant curiosity in Little Dee's eyes. "You were a surprise we didn't see coming."
Diana's responding smile was a picture of satisfaction. The father-daughter pair continued to walk down the street until Dee's voice tore through the silence once again, "Daddy?"
"Hm?"
"I thought you said a man and a woman can only make babies after they're married."
Spencer's footsteps halted on the pavement.
The silence must have stretched for only a partial of a minute, but the expectant stare Dee was nailing against his face, along with the internal panic that had short-circuited Spencer's brain made it seem as if the world had skidded into a standstill. Frantic eyes darted everywhere for a chance at rectification, and Spencer couldn't stop the words from tumbling off his lips when he saw the worn-down sign of a florist up ahead.
"Dee, would you like to buy some flowers for Mommy?"
The little girl squealed an excited yes before skipping the few steps left towards the flower shop. Spencer let out a relieved breath at having narrowly escaped such a harrowing crisis.
Once Spencer stepped into the shop, a multitude of fragrances immediately enveloped his surroundings. Diana was lingering back and forth around the vibrant displays when Spencer approached, her tiny eyebrows frowning in the most adorable way as she assessed the rows of flowers in front of her.
"Have you decided yet, Pumpkin?"
"Can we get some of Mommy's favorites, Dad?" Diana requested, pointing her tiny finger at the display of flowers she knew to be your favorites. "And then we can add some of these daisies, too!"
Spencer couldn't fight the smile blossoming on his face as he asked the florist to assemble a bouquet made out of daisies--Dee's favorite type of flowers, the same one printed all over the dress she was wearing--along with your favorite flowers in the center. Diana stared in awe at the deft work administered by the florist, her mouth forming an "O" once the bouquet was wrapped and ready to go.
"Do you think Mommy will like them, Daddy?"
"I know she will, Pumpkin," Spencer answered earnestly, his memory replaying that first time he had come home bringing the same arrangement of flowers in his hand.
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Spencer came home to the apartment in utter disarray, and yet, it still was the best view that he had ever witnessed in his entire life.
Ever since his office was transformed into a nursery, the books he previously kept in there had to be relocated to the living area. Most of them had gone by now--some donated, and some others sold at second-hand bookstores--but piles of them still littered in various corners of the room.
Apart from his mountainous collection of books, small trinkets also covered every available surface of the place. From the empty nursing bottles in the kitchen sink to the breast pump on the counter, and the tiny socks on the coffee table to the pacifier jammed between the sofa cushions; every single one of them contributed to the mess that his apartment had become. Yet as he paused to inspect every inch of the place, Spencer couldn't find any other emotion besides warmth flooding his chest.
Muffled footsteps padded towards the living room before you appeared from the hallway with a freshly bathed Diana in your arms. As soon as your eyes locked with his, the crease between your eyebrows automatically vanished.
"You're home."
"I'm home." Spencer grinned before welcoming you into his embrace.
He stole a quick kiss from your lips before bending down to smother a 7-month-old Diana who yelped in glee when Spencer began attacking her with kisses all over her face.
"She's been fussy since yesterday," you told him. "I think she missed you."
"Did you, baby? Did you miss Daddy?" Spencer cooed. "I can take her for a few while you rest. You look tired. Are you feeling okay?"
"Gee, Spence. What a way to a girl's heart."
"You know what I meant, sweetheart."
"It's fine, Spencer. I just got a headache, but it's all better now that you're here."
Spencer smiled as he kissed your free knuckles. "If it's any consolation, you're still the most heavenly creature that I've ever laid eyes upon."
A sneaky laughter rumbled past your chest. "Fine. I'll let you go just this once," you said before letting Spencer take a yawning Diana into his arms.
As Spencer carried Dee towards the couch, you noticed a bouquet of flowers lying next to the kitchen sink in the corner of your eye. You glanced at the young genius with a discreet smile before aptly transferring the flowers into a vase.
"These are pretty," you commented, joining your family in the living room. You put the vase in the middle of the coffee table amidst the books and various baby clutters before dropping yourself against Spencer's side.
"They're your favorites."
"I know. As usual." You smiled affectionately. "And daisies. You've never bought me daisies before."
Spencer's eyes gleamed. "I bought the daisies for Dee."
"Oh?"
"I think daisies are gonna be her favorite."
"You do, huh?"
"One hundred percent."
Spencer's eyes looked up from Diana to you then, whose own gaze had been kept intently on your husband and daughter. Darkness embellished the area underneath your eyes, and Spencer couldn't help but count the lines of fatigue that seemed to have multiplied on the contours of your face. Even then, Spencer thought you had never looked more stunning than you did at that moment; as his wife, the mother of his child, and the woman who owned the sole reign of his heart.
Confusion wandered into your eyes when you noticed Spencer's stubborn stare. A surprised squawk escaped your lips as Spencer unexpectedly captured them in a rather long kiss. When he pulled back, Spencer looked the very image of a man who was drunk on love.
"I love you. You know that, right?" Spencer confessed as he squeezed your hand twice in his palm.
"Spencer, what's going on with you?"
"Nothing. I just--" he paused for a chuckle, seemingly trying to find the right words to say before he could continue, "--I owe my life to you, sweetheart. For all of the times you have pulled me out of the darkness, to the light you've brought into my life. You and Dee are the reason I keep on breathing. Without the two of you, I'm nothing."
"Spencer," you breathed out. "Where did all of this come from?"
"I don't know." He shook his head. "I just wanted you to know how grateful I am to have you in my life and that you've brought Dee into ours. Everything worth fighting for about me is because of you."
The telltale signs of tears began to cast a shadow over your eyes. You pressed your hand to Spencer's cheek, feeling the rugged sensation of his newly shaved stubble stroking your skin. Spencer melted into the warmth of your touch.
"You're giving me far too much credit here, Spencer," you whispered. "Everything you are has always been your own doing rather than mine. All I ever did was cheer you on from the sideline. You would still have become the person that you are today even if I weren't in your life."
Spencer physically shuddered at your last statement. "Don't say that. I can't even begin to imagine a life without you in it."
"Well, even if such day does come, when I won't be a part of your life anymore, I know you're gonna be just fine. Because you'll have Dee with you--" you stroked Diana's head lovingly, "--and I know that the two of you will give each other enough love and strength that you won't even notice I'm not around anymore."
The frown on Spencer's face deepened.
"You're not allowed to leave me. Ever," Spencer decided childishly.
"Fine. I won't. But you have to remember--" you brought your palm towards Spencer's chest, feeling each rhythmic thrum of his heart which seemed to flutter ever so slightly underneath your fingers, "--I'll be right here if you need me. Always."
Spencer's own hand landed on top of your hand, entwining your fingers together without ever tearing his fierce gaze away from yours.
"Always."
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The sun was shining down in flimsy rays when Spencer and Dee finally walked past the familiar gate. Glimmers of gold sneaked past the reddish leaves on branches before falling upon the ground.
Next to him, Diana was humming a melody that Spencer recognized from one of your specially curated playlists. Her little hands struggled to carry the gigantic bouquet that she couldn't wait to present to you. It didn't matter that the bouquet itself was nearly as tall as she was, Diana still refused to let Spencer assist her.
"I wanna give Mommy the flowers myself," she had told Spencer in a manner that reminded him too much of your own stubbornness.
After a couple more minutes of walking, Spencer's reverie was soon broken by the excited squeal coming from the little girl beside him.
"Mommy! Mommy!"
Diana dashed into a sprint before words of warning could fall from Spencer's lips. He watched intensely as Diana's little feet moved upon the ocean of fallen leaves on the ground. Her tight grip around the bouquet never wavered even when she ran up the grassed hill, all the way towards the destination in her mind.
All the way towards the headstone with your name written on it.
When Spencer finally got there, Diana was kneeling next to your grave with panting breaths, but the smile stretched on her lips was the biggest one that Spencer had ever seen.
"Hi, Mommy. I'm back with Daddy," Diana announced. "Daddy, go say hi to Mommy."
"Hello, my love." Spencer smiled before taking a seat next to his daughter.
"We brought flowers, Mommy! They're your favorites. I added daisies to make them prettier." Diana beamed before putting the bouquet against your headstone. "You're not gonna believe what happened in class yesterday!"
As Diana animatedly began to recount the funny incident in her classroom--somehow involving a boy named Patrick and a cup of slushie--Spencer watched over her with a permanent smile on his lips. The little girl loved to talk--a trait she obviously acquired from both of her parents--and Spencer knew just how much you used to adore listening to Dee's rambling at any time of day.
It must have been at least ten minutes later when Diana's story eventually whirled to an end. Her attention instantly shifted to the family who was paying their own respect just two headstones over, a small squeak of puppy tumbled from Dee's lips before she dashed towards the boy with a golden retriever pup beside his legs.
Spencer shook his head affectionately at his daughter's antics.
"I know we were just here a couple of weeks ago, but Dee wanted to tell you about the slushie incident herself," he said. "And, well, I can never deny the chance to visit you, love."
A loud laughter boomed a few feet away. Spencer watched as Diana ran around jubilantly with the little boy and his dog. The boy's father waved at Spencer from the distance, which he replied with an acknowledging nod.
"She's getting so big, sweetheart. Sometimes, I just wanna stop time and keep her as my little girl forever. I wish you were around to see how much she's grown." Spencer smiled ruefully. "I can't believe that it's been more than a year since you were gone."
Spencer thought back to the last few moments you spent on this earth. How just a few months prior, the doctor had advised you to stop the treatment and take a rest at home instead.
The chemo isn't working, was what the doctor was really saying. You should be spending as much time as you can with your family.
So, that was exactly what you ended up doing.
Spencer had quit his job at the FBI shortly after you were diagnosed, opting to take a full-time job of teaching where the hours were more humane and reasonable. The day you were discharged from the hospital, Spencer made a vow to himself to make every day as memorable as he could, and he was keeping true to it. Those last few months were filled with countless road trips, an unforgettable weekend at Disneyland, and visits to various museums across the states. Spencer made sure that each day was charged with love and laughter, a perfect day culminated by an equally perfect night, with you falling asleep in the safety of his arms.
Until one morning, when Spencer woke up to your cold and lifeless body lying by his side.
"Do you remember what you told me once? About how Dee and I would never notice you were gone because we would have each other?" Spencer recalled. "You were wrong about that, sweetheart. Your absence is the first thing I notice every time I start my day. The moment I open my eyes, I notice that you aren't lying next to me on the bed like you're supposed to be. I notice the cold imprints on the sheets where your warmth used to linger. I notice you in every corner of our home, but most importantly, I notice you in Dee."
Spencer glanced at his little girl, playing and running around a pile of fallen leaves with her newfound friend and his pet dog. His heart floundered at the scene.
"Everyone keeps saying that she's an exact copy of me, but I see glimpses of you in her more and more every single day," Spencer admitted. "She's the only anchor I have left now, my love. Without her, I'm lost. I try constantly, with whatever strength still resides in me, to give her everything she would ever need. Shower her with every ounce of love I have left in my heart."
A lone tear cascaded down Spencer's cheek. He quickly erased it away with a wry chuckle.
"What I would do to have a minute with you again, my love. I hope you know I'd give my heart and soul to have those extra sixty seconds just to stare at your beautiful face. To hold you in my arms one last time. I try my best to fill the void that you left for Dee's sake. Some days are difficult, and I keep thinking about how much better it would be--how much better off she would be--if it were you here with her instead of me. I'd trade places with you if I could. I fear that all of me would never be enough for her, because she needs you. We both do."
Spencer inhaled a breath, forcing the imminent wave of tears from breaking the dam he had masterfully crafted since the moment you were gone. He promised a long time ago never to allow the grief to consume him.
He still had his daughter to think about.
"I'm beginning to think people are wrong when they say time makes everything better. The pain never lessens. It just becomes bearable with time. Dee makes it bearable," Spencer confessed. "I can only hope I'm doing the same for her."
"Daddy! Daddy!"
Spencer hurriedly wiped away any sign of tears from his face before he caught Diana in his arms. Her innocent laughter was a balm to the gaping wound in his chest, and Spencer allowed himself to bask in the bliss that his little girl brought to his life.
"What is it, Pumpkin?"
"Look what Brian's mom gave me!"
Spencer looked at her tiny hand to see a plastic daisy ring gracing one of her fingers. He looked up towards the family in the distance, mouthing a thank you to the mother who waved him off with a smile.
"It's very pretty, Dee."
"Like me?"
The young dad chuckled. "Yes, very much like you."
"Like Mommy, too?"
Spencer's smile softened. "Very much like Mommy, too. Yes."
The exhilarated smile Diana rewarded him could probably light up the entire state of Virginia at night.
Five minutes later, Spencer found himself bidding you a goodbye, with Diana promising to visit again very soon to give you an update over the slushie incident that supposedly got Patrick in a lot of trouble at school. The air was getting even chillier as the two walked the path they had taken after arriving at the cemetery. Spencer tugged Diana closer to his side once he saw the familiar gate lurking a few feet ahead, keeping her safe while simultaneously seeking her warmth.
"Daddy?" Dee's voice arose shyly once the pair had reached the main street.
"Yes, Pumpkin?"
"I miss Mommy," she admitted quietly.
Spencer's fingers instinctively tightened for a split second around his daughter's hand. "I know you do, Pumpkin. You just need to remember, even if she's not physically with us anymore, that she's always watching over you and keeping you safe."
Diana nodded her head understandingly. "Do you miss her, too, Daddy?"
"Every day, Dee." Spencer smiled, glancing back towards the gate of the cemetery behind him. "Every single day."
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mrsnancywheeler · 3 months
Text
let me down easy // finnick odair x f. reader
based off this blurb
summary: finnick pushed himself away, isolated himself, and you're slipping through his fingers like sand.
masterlist
3.8k words
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warnings: angst, a tiny bit of fluff at the end, a little smutty but also very brief, mental illness, insecurity, paranoia, allusions to cheating (no one is actually cheating), slightly mean!finnick, self destructive behavior on all sides, more insecurities, arguments, feeling isolated, slight blood and injury, female rage things, male masturbation, unedited, no use of y/n, brief mentions of vomiting, girls girls all around, annie cresta my beloved being a girl girl, people pleaser reader
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
Once every day had felt like it was full of sunlight, even if there were ups and downs you always had each other by the end of it. Now you weren't even sure if you had yourself, let alone Finnick. Worst of all you had no idea what you'd done wrong, at first you chalked it up to how he'd just returned from the Capitol. But usually his isolation was a day at the most before he'd succumb to your comfort. Instead it had been nearly a month of radio silence.
He stopped the way he'd pepper your face with kisses to wake you up and bring you to the kitchen where he'd have made breakfast, telling you mindless stories about his morning swim. Now if he did anything for you it felt robotic, out of necessity, there was no helping you with your hair, having fun picking out your outfits, he was barely around. Never would you have thought you could be such an outcast in your own home, your own relationship.
At first you'd thought you just weren't doing enough, that he needed some extra love to help him open up. Reluctantly you'd fully wake yourself up when you felt him rise for his swim, take up the position of making him breakfast instead. Busying yourself with his favorites until he returned and you put on your best smile when he did, hopeful it would be somewhat successful.
“Good morning!” You greeted and were met with a confused look, a nod. You'd always hated getting up this early yet here you were and he did nothing.
“I have to take a shower." He muttered and was up the stairs. It was a disappointing resolution, but then your hopes had still been high. So you kept making his favorites throughout the next few days, scattering gifts for him throughout the house, writing notes to hide where he might find them, desperate to show him how much you loved him.
“Where are you going?" Your voice startled him and he slowly turned his head towards you.
Finnick's voice was so dry, rigid, “Fishing."
“Oh, let me get my shoes on, I'll come with!" Bright smiles, you reminded yourself when it felt like wavering.
“I'd rather go alone."
“Right." It wanted to falter so bad, “How long are you gonna be gone? I could make you lunch to go or something."
“I'm okay."
You fidgeted with your fingers, “Yeah, okay, well, um, have fun." Then he was gone, without a kiss, even a hug goodbye. Come to think of it there hadn't been any at all for a while, not even in the morning which is something he'd always do. So after a few days failing with those attempts you'd convinced yourself of a different reason.
“Annie, be honest with me, do you think I'm pretty?" The two of you had been out in the garden of Victors Village and she seemed taken aback.
“Honey, of course you're pretty. You're beautiful, what brought this on?" She dropped what she was doing to look at you.
You darted around the specifics, “What about the way I dress, is it too frumpy?"
“No! There's nothing wrong with anything about you." Her voice was so soft and she felt like the only person you could talk to now that Finnick had pushed himself away from you. “What's going on?"
You felt yourself finally crying all the held back tears you'd hid for the moments alone, “What if he's found someone prettier and more exciting?” You sobbed out and Annie hugged you.
"Finnick worships the ground you walk on, he'd never do that.”
"He barely even talks to me anymore, Annie. It's like I don't exist.”
“He's just going through a rough patch, it's not your fault."
Regardless of what Annie said, you disagreed. He must have had someone else, but you couldn't confront him about it. No, if you did then it would become real and he'd leave you for them. There had to be someone else taking on his hardships and loving him the way he'd once let you. So you bought new makeup, new lingerie, new clothes, tried to feel more attractive, more desirable. Yet it didn't seem like he even noticed.
You'd waited for his return all day, he'd left so early you hadn't even seen him. You made dinner praying that he'd see the effort you made, and find you irresistible once again. Of course, this effort seemed to be in vain.
“Welcome home, Finn!" You greeted when he walked through the front door, pained by the sound of your own faux bubbly voice. You put a plate down in front of his usual seat.
“Thanks." He mumbled and you smiled cheerfully. Perhaps you'd been too solemn and he'd prefer someone who exuded more sunshine-like behavior. “How was your day?" His voice was sharp, curt, but it was a conversation nonetheless. Always better than nothing.
“It was good!" You lied through your teeth, there hadn't been a single moment where your brain hadn't been infested with the thought of him pushing you away, him with someone else. It was something you desiped, you preferred to be in the moment. When you had been confident in yours and Finnick's relationship you could immerse yourself in the company of others, enjoy menial tasks with humming and daydreams, but now the isolation haunted your mind. “Annie and I planted some new flowers and cut some that recently finished blooming. I finally changed our vases out." He didn't even glance around, just kept eating. Your Finnick had always made an effort to look around, praise you for anything you did, he took pride in you, now the only thing he took pride in was being able to avoid you.
He curtly nodded his head in response and you felt like you might snap. Especially as the silence persisted, nothing except the sounds of the house and his fork clinking on the plate. You chewed at your bottom lip, leg bouncing up and down waiting for the smallest bit of conversation, but nothing came. Eventually you shot out of your seat, grabbed your plate, which you were sure you wouldn't be able to stomach, and began cleaning up dinner. Hands gripping each dish so hard as if to contain all the rage you'd been repressing.
“I can clean up." Finnick murmured as he rose.
Being lazy was another thing you thought could be a reason. He did so much for you and whatever you had to offer must not have been enough. Yes, he'd always insisted that you should just be his pretty girl that he could look at when he did the tasks, but in secret he must have just wanted you to resist and do more. So you vehemently shook your head, “No, I've got it!" Your voice was strained and several pitches too high to sound natural.
“It's fine, I can do it.” How dare he have the gall to sound annoyed with you.
“I've got it Finnick, just go to bed!" Or whatever the fuck else is he does to be away from you. You regretted how snappy you were, he wanted someone easy going, not how uptight you were being. But god, hate that man for how he looked like a wounded puppy dog. “Sorry." You muttered, only partially genuine. Harshly grabbing a glass to clean, hands gripping around it, so harshly it seemed that when you went to put it to dry, it shattered in your hand. Your reaction was delayed as you stood there in disbelief, you hated your life, “Fuck.”
Then his hand was on your back and you involuntarily jerked at the contact you hadn't felt for so long. “You're bleeding." How the hell was his voice still so stony, a mystery you'd never know the answer too. It sent tingles up your spine the way his hand was on your back, you missed his touch. He led you to the bathroom where he carefully tended to the cuts in your hand. Carefully taking out the pieces of glass and although you occasionally winced, it was like your brain couldn't comprehend the pain over the buzzing about his hand touching yours. But once he bandaged it up the touch was gone and so was he with a, “I'll clean up."
Fuck him, fuck him, fuck him, fuck him. But you hated being angry with him when he was probably going through something, he'd struggled so much and just needed help. Was it really excusable though when it was tearing you apart to be in all of this. You got up and without a second thought walked straight out the front door. Feet guiding you to the comfort of the beach. Of course it invoked memories of all the better times spent with Finnick, but out here at least you had the ocean. It has started to rain and you didn't care. Walking out into the sea, as far as you could touch, and letting the freedom of the waves surround you. And you screamed, at the sky, at the waters, into the night. Trying so desperately to let go of the aggression, so you could keep trying. Inhaling the salt air before you walked back inside, you could do this. Every relationship had trials and tribulations, but you could be stronger, stick together.
As you were walking back, Finnick was jogging towards you, “Are you okay?" There was actual emotion in his voice, you longed to be privileged to it more often.
“Yeah."
“I thought I… " He trailed off, hand running through his hair. The way he looked like he might cry sparked guilt in you, but also a sick pleasure that he actually cared. “You're gonna get sick." Just as quickly his tone returned to being straight-laced.
You didn't care, if you were sick maybe he would take care of you. So you walked inside and he said nothing. You showered and changed, you'd gotten a new nightgown that left little to the imagination. Maybe you could get a rise out of him, get him to touch you more. But he seemed to be fast asleep by the time you left the bathroom, so you slipped into bed beside him. In the past he'd always sleep with his arms around you, but now you slept beside each other rather than with one another. It left you cold, despite the blankets, which were barely there as he'd always been a blanket hog, which you used to tease him for, but was fine because you were attached to him. Now you laid there and felt yourself crying. You cursed yourself for it, not right now, but you couldn't stop. So you covered your mouth with a hand as you sobbed into it.
The next morning you felt him wake, but there was no energy to make breakfast. You were exhausted and it hadn't made him love you again anyways. So you drifted back off until the sound of floorboards creaking when he returned woke you up. You sat up in bed as he entered the bedroom. “Morning, Finn." The smile you worked hard to maintain was back.
“Morning." He mumbled and then his eyes faltered on you. That's when you remembered the nightgown, it was a relief for something to keep his eyes on you. ‘Love me, even if it's just for my body, love me in some way.’ Your brain begged to no avail. “Shower." He slowly said even though he'd very obviously grown hard.
You felt humiliated, completely embarrassed to be dressed the way you were and him to still not want you. It made you want to cry again, but you had to persist. Rising to get dressed until you heard your name. It took you a second to process that he was moaning it, you were right there and he was getting himself off to the thought of you when he could've just had the actual you. That had to be a new type of low. You hadn't even dared to touch yourself no matter how badly you wanted him because you knew nothing you did could match the things he'd made you feel. Yet here he was, so easily jerking off. There was nothing you could do except seethe as you got ready for your day. At least it was your name and not some other girls.
You were in the kitchen when he walked downstairs, “Going to the market." He announced and you got up from your chair.
“I'm coming too." It wasn't a question.
"No, it's okay. I've just got a couple things to grab.”
"So do I, so I'll just come along to grab them. You don't even have to stick by me, I'm just going.” You were exasperated. Honestly you hadn't left the confines of Victors Village for a while, besides when you tried to recall your look, and this would be a good opportunity to see if he was being honest. There was nothing you really had to get, but at least you'd somewhat had his company.
He said nothing but waited as you put on your sandals and then the two of you set off. The silence was deafening as you two walked, your Finnick would always hold your hand, would've taken you from booth to booth and ramble on endlessly, buy anything you glanced at with interest, but now he stood too far away for your hands to even brush by each other. The bustling of the market was a relief and for the first time in a long time you naturally smiled. Although it was jarring how quickly Finnick put on a smile, made conversation with all these people when he hadn't blessed you with the same thing. In fact, it instantly dampened your mood.
“Haven't seen you in so long, missed seeing that pretty smile!" All your favorite vendors gushed and you'd smile, make small talk. Even if everything made you think of Finnick. When was the last time he'd called you pretty? When was the last time he kissed you?
“You look a little sad, are you alright?" And you'd insist you were just feeling a little under the weather. You'd somewhat kept your distance from Finnick until you saw him laughing with a girl in the market. When was the last time he'd laughed with you? Is this what he did, found pretty girls in the market, charmed them, and went back home with them?
You'd slowly approached and showed fake interest in one of her necklaces. “They're real pearls." She said. She was so pretty, stunning. What did she have that you didn't? You hummed, smiling and without a word, Finnick was handing you money.
‘I don't want your money, I want you to pay attention to me.’ You thought and shook your head, “I don't need your money, Finn." The only thing you'd want from him was something he'd pick out because he wanted to give it to you, something he'd always done if you hadn't been there with him. Showing up at home with little treasures to show off to you. He looked at you quizzically, it wasn't like you had any money of your own on you.
“Is this your girlfriend?" The woman asked, her voice was sweet like sugar, you were too gruff, that's what you were missing.
Right now though, your voice was breathy, anxious. “Yeah." The woman must have been able to sense something off because she looked at you with pity. Finnick left the money on the counter by you regardless of what you said and walked off. You sighed.
“I'm sorry, I didn't know."
You gave a sad smile, “It's okay, not your fault." You picked the money up, ready to go find him.
“He's just a guy, even if he's Finnick Odair, don't let him dim your spark." It should've been encouraging, except you knew you loved him too much to ever leave him.
You found him, chatting and smiling as he bought produce. You missed his smile. “Here." You said quietly, handing him his money.
“Where's the necklace?"
“Didn't need it." You didn't care about needing it, you care that he would rather have you buy things for yourself then make you feel valued.
He huffed, like you were frustrating him, annoying him. “Okay, use it to find something else then. You said you weren't going to stick around me." You couldn't stop yourself from physically recoiling from his venom.
“I just came to tell you I was going home." You said weakly, staring at the ground. “Have fun." Your voice cracked slightly and you didn't even bother looking up as you walked home. Immediately settling yourself into bed where you refused to move. Eventually he came home, something clicked onto the dresser table, the sun went down and you stayed put. When he crawled into bed the most movement you made was flipping onto your side to have the protection of your back facing him.
For days it was a cycle of laying in bed, only rising once he left, usually to stand under the burning hot water in the shower until your skin felt raw. Then immediately returning back to bed. He'd return, put something on the dresser, and you'd stay still. Eventually one night he'd come home and sat at your feet, mattress dipping. “We need to talk."
Your hands clamped over your ears, this was it, he was done with you, all that effort for nothing. The anxiety knotted in your stomach, “I'm gonna be sick." You forced yourself up and found yourself throwing up in the toilet, Finnick holding your hair back.
“Hey, it's okay. It's okay, sweet girl." When you were done you said nothing as you brushed your teeth, praying he would leave and forget whatever bad news he was surely bearing. But he didn't, he waited and sat on the bed, waiting for you. Who exited, arms crossed, trying not to cry.
“Please don't break up with me." It was pathetic to beg for but he stood up, looking bewildered.
“No, no, no, I'm not gonna break up with you, sweet girl. I wouldn't even think of it." His hands cradled your face and you melted into them.
Finally you let the tears fall, "Then what are we talking about?”
"I've been so terrible to you, a terrible partner, a terrible person. I…” He took a deep breath in, "I had a rough time in the Capitol, I always do, especially last time though. And I knew you would be able to tell and try to help, but it was easier for me to just block you out so I didn't have to deal with it. Because it hurts to think about." He was crying and it made your heart ache. "And I took you for granted. I didn't try to be there for you, I was selfish and I can't make up for it enough. I will spend the rest of my life making up for it.”
You were both sobbing and he pressed his forehead to yours. His hands were so warm, his touch was so perfect. "I want to help you.”
"I know.” He pulled his forehead away, putting his hands on your shoulders. "I need you to tell me how you felt. Not the sweet way you usually explain things, be honest, so honest.
You shook your head, “No, it's okay. It was just miscommunication."
“No, I think I nearly broke you and everybody else noticed before I did. I need to know your raw feelings, so I can attempt to make it up to you.” He let go of your shoulders and sat down on the edge of the bed.
"I thought you were cheating on me.” You said quietly, anxiously playing with your fingers. He already looked hurt, "Like you found someone else because I wasn't, I don't know, fun enough, pretty enough, hardworking enough. And you didn't want me to do anything with you ever or notice anything I did for you." You took a deep breath, you could feel yourself getting angrily worked up and he could tell.
“If you're angry, be angry." He said and you obeyed.
“And I bought new clothes for you, changed my makeup routine, smiled more, made all your favorites, woke up earlier, tried to take on burdens and you said nothing. Do you know how lonely I was? How bad that made me feel about myself? One day you weren't letting me lift a finger, telling me you loved me, now pretty I was, and the next I thought I'd never hear any of that again, let alone have you touch me. No kisses, or hugs, you didn't even hold me when we slept! And you were so closed off and sometimes mean on top of that and all I wanted was your attention. Until finally I gave up because at least even if you weren't really with me, I still had you, and I didn't want you to leave me just because I found out there was someone else, which is so fucked. And then I thought, maybe at the very least, he’ll have me for my body, I had new lingerie, I tried and you didn't give a fuck. No, you got yourself off in the goddamn bathroom and I was right here!” Your voice had risen and your inhales were sharp between the ranting, "And everytime I hated what you were doing to me, I'd feel bad because what you've been through is so much worse and I should still try to be there for you. So I tried and then you'd be annoyed with me and it was like torture. And I swear to god, if you ever do that again, I'll leave.” A weight lifted off of your chest and he hugged you.
“I'm so sorry, I won't ever do it again, I love you so much, you're so pretty and kind and I need you in my life." You held onto him like he would slip away, kissing away your tears that were falling even though he was also crying. He held you until the sobbing had mostly subsided, “You know I bought you all these stupid gifts when you were laying there, thinking it would make you feel better, but I don't even think you noticed." He chuckled and you turned your head, not wanting to tear away from him. All you could see was the necklace from where you were standing. “Not that it would've done anything after all the time I spent letting the castle crumble around us.
"Thank you.” It was muttered and then he tried to pull out of the hug which made you whine. Trying to cling on forever.
His hand tilted your chin towards him, “You wanna put one of those sets on that you got for me so I can show you how pretty you are and how sorry I am for neglecting my sweet girl?"
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
sorry y'all angst is my default settings. thank you for reading, comments, likes, reblogs, feedbacks is all super appreciated. asks and requests are open, love you all, sorry again 💋
taglist: @wowzabowza69
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thesirencult · 5 months
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Pick A Card Reading: Your Soulmate's Letter To Santa About You 💌
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PILE 1
Dear Santa,
I want to thank you for my gift from last year, lol. She is amazing.
She makes me happy and puts a smile on my face. Sometimes I smile so hard my cheeks burn.
I've never felt happier in my life.
The way she talks, the way she moves, the way her eyes brighten up when she looks at a puppy or a piece of chocolate pie, they all drive me wild.
I want to be there for her, this Christmas and every other Christmas after this one. I want to buy her a house as a gift and a ring to go with it, maybe even a car? She doesn't like to drive that much but my baby has to have everything she wants.
What she wants she will get. I love her. I adore her. She owns my heart and soul. I'm proudly whipped.
Thank you Santa, I'll take care of her heart ❤️
~ Your soulmate is a provider. They must be a "golden retriever" type of person. I'm hearing "here comes the boy!". When you first meet them you won't expect to fall so hard for them. They have a compatible sense of humour with you.
PILE 2
Hey Santa Baby,
Am I in the naughty list? Great!
This year I put up with no bs and I said "bye" to everything that held me back. I let go of the old stories and left the world behind.
Well, not the whole world, because I met that special someone and they are amazing. I'm writing down my goals for next year and I want one of them to be to deepen my relationship with my soulmate.
I know that they are special, I'm not crazy! I consciously make the choice to commit to them. I feel like we are twin flames and can not wait to explore they way their mind works.
I want to help them unlock their potential. They are a force to be reckoned with and they don't even know it.
Bye, for now!
~ Your FS (yup, they are) is someone who could very well be a motivational speaker or a content creator in that space. They love doing challenges like 75 hard and lighting up other people's fire. They could also be an athlete or ex athlete. You will love this person's practical nature and approach in life. This person is also very spiritual and they probably have heard of Ayahuasca and other popular terms etc. They remind me of a Tech Founder in silicon valley who is I'm woowoo stuff (no worries, I'm the woo woo stuff).
PILE 3
Santa,
I'm ready to move on from this year. My faith is stronger than ever before.
I've wished for so many things in the last few years. Many of them manifested into my life but one thing still hasn't showed up yet and I'm very bumped because of that.
Don't get me wrong. I'm grateful for the life I live and lead. I have almost everything I've wished for but that almost is killing me.
I know she is out there. I've felt her energy before. Since I was a child, whenever I looked up to the stars, I felt this overwhelming connection with someone. This invisible string tagging at my heart at all times. No one has ever made me feel this way and I know that it is unfair to say that for my previous partners but I miss her. I miss someone I've never met. Can you please bring her to me this year? I don't want anything else but my love to come back to me in this lifetime.
I know that the time to meet her is coming. I can feel it, but make it as fast as you can. Please.
I have a lot of goals for the year, especially financial ones. I'll try to focus on them until she comes. Where is she? Where is my love?
I will know she is here when I lay my eyes on her. My heart will speed up and the world as I know it will shutter. Shutter my world darling. I don't care. I made that world by myself and it is time we build our own world together.
P.S. Send loving energy to my soulmate, they need it. Tell them I will buy them their gift myself next year, but for now... This, sadly, has to do.
~ Awww your soulmate is very sweet and... depressed! They don't show it to anyone though but when they are alone at night they drink a glass of wine and think about you. They would want you to be there.
This person is very, stoic and "protected". That give me "military" vibes even if they have nothing to do with the military. This inability to outwardly express their feelings. You will baby them a lot and it is going to look comical but they will love it. Your FS might be older and taller than you and people will laugh when they see how much of a baby they become around your presence. They are very tired of being lonely. Don't get me wrong, this is not someone mopping around, they are just a "closeted" romantic. They hide their true feelings and you will know they love you because they will do acts of service for you or you will catch micro expressions. As soon as you enter in an official relationship they won't be able to keep their hands away from you.
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auteurdelabre · 5 months
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Something to Fight For (Epilogue) Dad!Joel x f!Reader
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Something to Fight For: Epilogue
Warnings: Tooth-rottingly sweet epilogue.
Words: 5.3
a/n: I dragged y’all through angsty hell and I PROMISED I would deliver a happy ending and imo it don’t get much happier than this! Now, if you're sad this is over I understand. Nice thing is, I got vignettes happening featuring the characters in this story. Some of 'em sweet, some spicy, some funny. I can't say goodbye to these characters or this world quite yet. So I'm not gonna. And if you want, you're always welcome to request a scene you'd like to see in the comments! I love hearing what you want to see! And I got heaps of other writing, but if you like this sweeter sort I recommend: “Bravo! Take a Bow” and “Losing our Minds Together”
I thank every single one of you out there that read this story and left a review because it really feels like we built a community here in the comment section. I'm gonna miss seein' y'all here. Hopefully you stick around while I keep writing, but if not I am so glad we could share this online moment together. Thank you for making this fanfic author a happy gal. I'm gettin' choked up here so I'll stop and we can get on to seeing our sweet idiots in love.
Oh and please review, reblog, etc cuz it makes me smile.
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You walk into life on Rancher Street as naturally as if you've always been a fixture there. You think this is borne from a routine the three of you slipped into without thinking.
Mornings are coffee and cereal (Joel's banana pancakes on the weekends), then it's getting ready, brushing Sarah's hair, packing leftovers into cartoon lunch bags (for Sarah) and brown paper bags (for you and Joel). 
You're dropped off first; your work is on the way to the school. Its kisses for both of their sweet smiling faces and then you're thrust into the world of animal rescue. Joel drives Sarah to school next, holding her hand until they reach her classroom where he kisses her forehead and tells her to "learn lots" before handing her off to her new first grade teacher. 
He drives to Tommy at whatever site they're working at. The days are long, but punctuated with texts from you. Most are funny, some sweet. Occasionally Joel tries to write back but when he really wants to interact with you he just excuses himself and calls you. Hearing your voice always makes him smile in that dreamy, crooked way that has Tommy giving him shit the rest of the day.
At five promptly Joel returns to pick you up with Sarah buckled in her car seat smiling up at you. His heart jumps every time you come through the door, eyes bright and smiling as you jog over. He holds back the urge to kiss you senseless, restraining you both to a quick peck and then drives his girls home. 
Dinner is done by Joel unless you've offered (which you rarely do because cooking is a drag). Instead you help Sarah set the table and the meal is spent listening to Sarah talk about her day and the animals that you’ve helped to rescue. 
After dinner Sarah goes to play with her toys or watch a DVD while you tidy up. Joel sits with his coffee in his favorite green mug at the counter, eyes on you and chatting as you do the dishes. He always tries to help at first but you always remind him that he did the cooking and that you want to keep things fair. 
This is when you both talk about everything and anything. Work, movies you want to see, plans for the weekend, philosophical questions (you've both decided that you'd rather fight one horse sized duck versus a thousand duck sized horses, for example). Joel is hard to get information out of. He isn't used to talking about himself, but you urge him to do so. He thinks his job is boring but you're fascinated by controlling clients and his keen mind when problem solving an issue at a job site. 
Sometimes Sarah turns the volume of  the TV up really high during these times and Joel has to yell over the noise at her to turn it down, smiling and shaking his head. It's one of your favorite parts about being here. There's always noise in the background, either a television or laughter. Your home had been so quiet, so empty, you'd just never realized
The other favorite part is how Joel always finds ways to touch you. Subtle things like a hand trailing over your lower back as you wash the dishes, nestling his shoulder against yours as you watch television together, laughing and hip checking you gently as he passes you in the hallway. 
The only thing not perfect (at least for Joel) is the odd evening when you leave to go back to Maria's basement suite. He doesn't call the old suite your home because as far as he's concerned this is your home. 
His stomach always drops when he sees you've gathered your purse in your hands, ready to leave. Joel usually walks you to your car, but some nights he stops you both at the front door, bringing you into his arms and kissing you deeply. 
"I should go Joel," you tell him as he holds you, his mouth moving from your lips to your jaw, kissing that spot behind your ear that has you whimpering and your legs buckling. "Still have stuff there."
"Please stay," Joel murmurs against your mouth, hands wrapped around your waist as he presses into you against the wall. "Just a little longer."
Sometimes (often) this works. Your resolve breaks under his sweet mouth and hands and on these nights you wrap your legs around his waist and allow him to carry you back to the bedroom. 
These nights he spends hours making love to you until you're too exhausted to leave. These nights Joel likes best because you linger in his arms and in his bed until the morning, the scent of your perfume on his pillow and sheets until you return that evening. 
"Love having you here," Joel sleepily murmurs into your hair, kissing you awake one morning. "When are you just gonna move in?" 
Still half asleep in his bed you stretch, snuggling up against him and sighing into the crook of his neck. "Whenever you want, baby."
Joel wants you there all the time. He wants Sarah to know that you're there; he doesn't want to hide you. But you're tentative, nervous that this all feels too good too fast. You ask that Sarah not know that you're spending the night, not just yet. She knows that you’re daddy’s girlfriend, but that’s all you want her to know right now.
You pretend to arrive in the mornings, making a show of ringing the doorbell and smirking as Joel welcomes you in, his eyes amused. 
Despite the occasional seduction, Joel understands and he lets you go at your own pace. He agrees to what makes you feel comfortable. 
But he loves when you arrive with a new cardboard box of your stuff from Maria's. He sees the blush across your cheek as he excitedly takes it from you, asking where this one will go. Most of its clothes and those boxes are promptly brought to the bedroom and unpacked into the closet. Seeing your blouses hung next to his button ups makes him feel good.
Week by week more of your things are brought over until one day there's nothing left for you at Maria's except for your bed, dresser and sofa. You tell him as much over a late night snack of chocolate pudding after Sarah has been put to bed. 
"Pretty much everything I need is here."
Joel makes note of this, his heart hammering in his chest as he reaches into one of the drawers and pulls out the key he got cut.
“You’ll need this, then.”
He slides it across the counter with his forefinger, his eyes not leaving your face as he does.  He sees the surprise there, the widening of your eyes.
"You have a lot of keys to your house just lying around?" You joke, feeling your heart race.
"Nah, got this one cut the day after the wedding," Joel murmurs. "Thought you'd need it sooner or later." 
He loves seeing you blush, especially when you do that shy smile of yours.
When you look uncertain later that night in bed next to him, fingers twisting together anxiously Joel notices, lowering his book to glance at you. 
"What's wrong?"
"Are you really okay with me moving in here?" You ask with a furrowed brow. "It's not too soon?"
Joel's mouth over yours is all the answer you need. But he's so delighted by your potential move in that he'd already launched into an outline of what to do with your furniture. 
"We could sell your sofa and bed. I know a guy who needs a sofa. Only 'cuz my stuff is bigger and already here, but I don't want you feelin' like this isn't your house too so maybe we should-"
Kissing is the second best way to stop Joel Miller from rambling. The first is climbing on top of him and urging him inside of you, languidly bringing you both to orgasm.
You do both just to be safe. 
The things left at Paul's had been clothing and a few personal items. You considered leaving it, but decide in the end that you shouldn't have to. 
Your small pile of cardboard boxes are left outside his old apartment. He's sure not to be in said apartment when Joel goes with you to retrieve them.  
You'd ridden over in Joel's truck, the day punctuated by an unexpected silence with Joel's protective hand over your knee. He'd loaded the boxes alongside you, his face tight. With every box retrieved from Paul's place Joel grew more and more miserable. 
He hadn't responded to your gentle teasing as you both worked, had turned down your idea of going out for lunch, and had been all over a grumpy bastard. 
When you'd loaded everything and were driving home Joel's hand had flown back to your knee, grip just as tight as before.  When you finally questioned him about his bizarre behavior his dark eyes had been hard. 
"The boxes and Paul," Joel winces, eyes fixed on the road. "Just reminded me how close I was to losin' you."
You make him pull over right then and there so you can crawl into his lap and kiss him senseless. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you so tightly to him you feel breathless. 
"You'll never lose me, Joel," you whisper against his neck. "Never." 
When you make love that evening your fingers linger on his cheeks as you stare into his eyes and the words you whisper as he fills you are of the love you have for him, the longing for this life you held for so long within you. 
As you both begin to drift off, tangled together under the sheets you press a kiss to that patch in his beard that doesn't quite grow. 
"I'm not going anywhere, Joel. I'm done running."
///
You miss having an office space like your studio had. A little area for just you to organize your thoughts and work. But it's a small price to pay because you like existing on Rancher Street. You've enjoyed every day of the last three months.
It feels like home when you're there and not because of the structure but the two figures inside. Home isn't a place, you've come to realize, its people. Joel and Sarah.
Evening rituals are the same as when you babysat. Picking out books as Sarah slips into bed smelling of toothpaste and the hair cream Joel massages into the curls under her favorite purple bonnet. You smiling at her while she snuggles down under the covers, propping toad up next to her so he can see the pictures in the books.
"Okay we're ready."
The only difference is that Joel is there too, bending down to kiss his daughter's cheek and murmuring a low "G'night babygirl. Sweet dreams. Love you." 
She gives him a sweet 'I love you' back, kissing his lightly bearded cheek. If Joel takes too long to leave, getting distracted by the sight of you gathering books or just wanting to linger, Sarah is prone to shooting him a silent look that communicates: okay, I love you dad, now please leave.
He always does. Because reading before bed is your special time, just the two of you. Joel used to do it on the nights you weren't there, but now you are there every single night his services are no longer necessary. 
Joel's qualities are better served in the kitchen, you and Sarah decide as you watch her drawing on the sidewalk with the chalk you've just bought. 
"Daddy's a better cook than you."
She says it thoughtfully and without malice as she draws a lopsided flower. 
"Yes," you agree with a nod, making a star pattern nearby. "Much better. I think he puts love in his food. I just use salt."
But the ever empathetic Sarah is quick to point out your many virtues as well. The main one of course being your stellar reading ability and your stories in general. 
So every single night Joel stands there outside Sarah's room, arms folded and shoulder tilted against the hallway wall, his cheek facing the half closed door of his daughter. 
There he listens to the two of you giggling or you reading the book Sarah has picked from your pile (Sarah's right, you're very good at doing the voices), the gentle murmurs of 'I love you" thrown back between you two and those sounds wind around Joel's heart in a way he never knew just sounds could. 
He's so fucking happy. 
And when you finally creep out, quietly closing the door behind you and shooting him a pleased smile, Joel is always there to grip you by the hand and drag you to your shared bedroom down the hall. 
Rarely do the two of you make it to the bed with all your clothes on because Joel has many virtues outside of the kitchen as well. 
///
Joel watches you give a frustrated sigh, frowning at the laptop on the kitchen table before putting your face in your hands. 
"Everything okay?"
"Just this fu- darn sanctuary project," you self correct, remembering a listening Sarah sitting across from you. 
Sarah has a piece of paper she has drawn to look like a laptop and she pretends to clack away on it when you do on yours. Joel sits next to you, his knee brushing yours as you complain. 
"Alex's contact said she could get the supplies at cost and he was supposed to get back to me but he hasn't and now the landscaping guy is saying -" you pause, realizing Joel's eyes have taken on a dreamy, faraway look. “-And you're not even listening to me, are you Miller?"
He gives you a guilty look. "Nope."
You give a sharp laugh at his honesty, leaning over and shoving his shoulder with yours affectionately.
"Hey, I really wanna show you somethin'," Joel says with a hint of excitement in his dark brown eyes, a window into the boy he must have been. "C'mon. Both of you." 
You follow him down the steps to the basement, to Tommy's old place, your hand wrapped around Sarah's. You both follow him towards the large door separating the areas, watching his broad shouldered walk, the excitement in his rapid footsteps. 
At the door there he spins with a small anticipatory smile on his handsome face. 
"I thought this would be a good place to have for an office," Joel explains shyly pointing to the door behind him. 
You smile up at him, delighted that he thought of you needing one. He pushes open the door for you, his eyes on your face as he does. 
Balloons. 
Hundreds of colorful balloons take up almost the entire main room of the basement.  
Sarah doesn't wait for you, she runs in headfirst giggling and shrieking, her arms open wide. 
You walk into the basement in a daze, your eyes owlish as you take in this prism of color, feeling the balloons brush your skin, the awe-inspiring sensation of being surrounded in a rainbow. You laugh, it bursts from you.
You can see that the space beyond the balloons has been transformed into an office, complete with built in bookcases and a custom desk under the window. You trace a hand along the desk before being swept up in the color of the balloons and Sarah's contagious laughter.
Joel is standing there just outside the door, his eyes bright as he watches the two loves of his life laughing and tossing up the colorful balloons.  
Sarah kicks at them with vigor, her head thrown back in laughter at the squeaks they emit when knocked about.  
Joel looks to you, expecting the same behavior and pausing when he sees how you're now standing there looking at him with damp eyes. The balloons float between you, falling to block his eyes as you approach. 
"Joel."
"Mmm?"
"Get in here," you order gently, your finger curling around his collar as you gently tug him in encouragement. You can't move him of course, but he grins widely, nodding and stepping into the color with you. 
For a moment neither of you speaks. All you can see is Joel and the balloons that seem to surround you on all sides, the colors framing his beautiful face. You can hear Sarah's distant laughter.
Then Joel smiles in that sweet, open way of his. You look down when you feel his hand taking yours and see a diamond ring being slipped onto your fourth finger. You stare at it in amazement before your gaze meets his. In his deep brown eyes you see a future so beautiful you never could have imagined it. What you don’t know is that when Joel looks into your eyes he sees exactly the same.  
"Will you ma-"
"Yes," you breathe without letting him finish, your hands coming to either side of his jaw. He pulls you into his arms grinning before his mouth is on yours, gentle and sweet. You know that your eyes are wet and you know that on your deathbed this will be one of those moments that comes to you, comforting you. 
You pull back and look around at all the balloons, the color and you smile broadly through the tears. 
"Couldn't wait for your birthday," Joel murmurs against your cheek. "Hope that's okay."
"Yeah," you say curling your arms around his neck. "It's okay." 
You don't mind at all.
///
"Shit, did you feed the cat?"
"Daddy you said sh-"
"I know babygirl," Joel says rubbing the back of his neck as Sarah looks to him with a chastised look. "Was wrong of me. Daddy just doesn't want to find another hairball in his shoe. "
Jam, your orange tabby kitten is not really yours at all. Despite being brought home for you, Jam quickly decided that Sarah with her warm bed and shirts covered in food crumbs was a much better companion than you. You don't mind though, seeing how much Sarah loves the cat is enough for you. 
"I fed him," you say giggling as the three of you make your way up the drive. The whole gang has been invited to Frank and Bill's for a Sunday lunch. You see them quite often despite living on Rancher Street full time. 
They often encourage you to bring Sarah and you do without hesitation. She loves Bill and Frank just as much as you do. She loves painting with Uncle Frank and baking with Uncle Bill. She loves that their house smells like cinnamon in the winter and fresh flowers in the summer. 
Despite living right next door, Maria and Tommy arrive late with cornbread and lemonade, but are given a reprieve when Maria shares that she took so long getting ready because "morning sickness makes it hard to feel cute."
Joel had hugged Tommy so tightly you were sure you heard bones cracking. You had just cried, throwing your arms around Maria, careful not to squeeze. Sarah asked to feel the baby and Maria told her it was a bit too early to feel much, but she still let her niece gently stroke her swelling belly. 
"I think it's gonna be a boy," Maria told you sagely over lemonade at the table. "A mother knows."
You smile, thinking of a little mix of Maria and Tommy in the vision of a little baby boy. Your eyes sail over to Joel, watching as he chats with Jackson and Tommy. You wonder what it would be like if you had a kid. Who would it take after? 
You’re distracted by this idea when Sarah and Bill bring out the dessert, followed by Frank with the coffee. The cupcakes are decorated to resemble beautiful flowers and you all wait as Sarah picks the perfect one for each of you. A daisy for Sarah, a lily each for Auntie Maria and Uncle Tommy,  a purple rose for Daddy, a peony for Frank and a forget-me-not for Bill and finally Sarah smiles at the pink carnation she labored the longest over with Bill. Sarah immediately cites that this one belongs to you. 
"That one," Sarah says pointing, watching as Bill pushes the plated cupcake in your direction. "Do you like that one, Mama?"
Joel's hand that's been absently rubbing along your spine stills when he hears that. His attention goes to your face, seeing the way your eyes have gotten wide. Mama.
You feel your breath catch in your chest as she calls you this, her tiny face turned up and smiling at you. You don't want to embarrass her, don't want to draw attention to the fact that she's called you Mama.
She did it so casually, so naturally that a part of you is worried she didn't even realize she'd done it. If you draw attention to it you're scared there's a chance that she'll take it back. 
"I love it," you whisper, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "Thank you, bug." 
You kiss her again, feeling tears prick your eyes when Joel's hand skates to the small of your back, squeezing softly. Maria and Tommy are wet-eyed, and share a soft smile before turning their attention to their cupcakes. Frank sniffles, pretending he’s just about to sneeze. You catch Bill’s eyes across the table and when you see them glossy and that’s what makes the tears spill over your lash line.
"Why are you crying?" Sarah asks, her head cocked to the side. She can’t understand why everyone suddenly got so quiet.  
"I'm not," you insist. "Just allergies."
Sarah is satisfied or maybe just relieved with this answer and she and clamors onto the chair next to you, ready to dig into her own cupcake. She leans companionably against you, starting to tell Auntie Maria and Uncle Tommy about the class hamster.  
You feel Joel's kiss on your temple and you turn to see his eyes damp like yours. 
"Mama," you whisper to him. "I'm Mama."
////////
3 years later
Joel is at your side, whispering how strong you are, how beautiful, but all you want to do is punch him.
Hard.
"You did this to me!" You say through clenched teeth as a wave of painful cramping goes through you. Your head falls back onto the damp hospital pillow. 
"If I recall it was a very mutual decision," Joel insists with a wry smile. His mouth goes to your ear and his voice drops to a deliciously low timbre only you can hear. "The words 'fuck me pregnant' were a direct quote by you, were they not?"
You don't answer him on that. Not just because he's right, but because a stab of pain is going through your pelvis that takes your breath away. 
St. David's is a very fine hospital with very fine people but at this moment everything is not fucking fine. You feel like you've been split in half by a fucking axe. 
"Doing so good, baby," Joel croons, wiping the damp hair from your forehead and temples as he watches the doctor and nurses at your feet. "Keep going, keep going." 
For a delirious moment you think that it was Joel saying these exact words that got you pregnant in the first place and you let out a high pitched laugh as Joel looks to you in concern. 
"Push," the doctor says, breaking into your foggy brain. And so you do. As you have been doing for the last three fucking hours.
You grit your teeth, feeling Joel's mouth on your temple whispering words of encouragement and you push. You push with everything you have and then...
There is a pause and then the loud braying sound of a newborn's cry. The doctor's voice behind the mask rings out. 
"It's a girl!"
A sister for Sarah, just like she'd wanted.
A second daughter for you and Joel. 
You look over to see Joel's dark eyes shimmering with tears and you feel you've never been so in love with him as you are in this moment. You burst into tears, your face wet as Joel kisses you. 
"You're amazing," Joel whispers against your mouth. "Fucking amazing." 
The nurse brings over a pink faced infant with a shock of dark brown hair. She is pink all over and her little face is scrunched up as she wails. You take her into your arms, marveling at how you and Joel made the little creature you're now holding. She's so warm and she smells so good. 
You glance over at Joel, recalling all the nights spent with his hand curving over your belly, murmuring soft sweet things to your daughter as she grew there. You think of when you both sang together, your hand carding through his hair and his eyes on you. You remember how on the days she felt really jumpy, all it would take is Joel singing a few bars from a song and she would quiet right down.
Now Joel's finger goes to trace the slope of her tiny nose and you smile as she quiets down, grunting. Seems he has a soothing effect on her outside the womb as well.
"She's so fucking perfect."
"Hopefully she doesn't swear as much as her parents," Joel says as he presses his lips to your temple.
You giggle at that, pulling her back so you can see your daughter's sweet face. The wailing has subsided and she gives little grunts as she tries to open her eyes.  
"Hi Ellie," you coo. "We're your parents."
/////
Four years after your first meeting, Joel Miller sits across from you in the very booth you had your disastrous blind date on. It's become a sort of tongue in cheek tradition, to have you all back to where it began. 
Only this booth is far more crowded than it ever was then. A very pregnant Maria slides in next to you, looking every bit the beautiful goddess she always does. Tommy and their son slip into the opposite side beside Joel, saying their hellos. 
"They're so cute," Maria coos as she watches Sarah give Ellie a toy to play with before going back to her puzzle book.  
"Sarah loves being a big sister," you smile softly. 
"Tell that to Jackson would you?" Maria says rolling her eyes at her eldest child who is obsessed with his game boy. "He seems to think that this new baby means the beginning of the end." 
"He's been an only child for so long he doesn't want to share you," you insist. But you can't help but feel secretly lucky that your daughter's had an immediate connection. 
Even when pregnant, Sarah had talked to the baby in your belly, she'd even helped pick out her sisters name. At this moment Sarah is curled up next to you on her seat, pencil in hand and her eyes focused on her latest obsession. 
Toad has been replaced by puzzle books (though you still find him under her pillow most nights) and her new favorite color is green. She's wearing green head to toe tonight including the green barrettes in her hair. She's like a slender blade of grass with wild hair and big, hazel eyes.
And while much about Sarah has changed, she still smiles when you and her father kiss, she still wows you with knowledge beyond her years and she still plays with the ends of your hair when she's anxious or distracted. Oh and she still loves you to death. 
You sling an arm around her, your eyes on the menu before traveling up to watch Joel across from you. He's looking at Ellie in her booster seat next to him, babbling incoherently as most toddlers do. 
Ellie is a daddy's girl though and through, obsessed with Joel the minute she laid eyes on him. It's now to the point where if she starts crying most mornings you simply glance his way. He always gives a grumpy frown before you see the smile peeking through as he goes to retrieve her from her crib.
He's smiling broadly at her now, his finger tracing down her nose as she gurgles. Something he’s done since she was born. There's something about seeing Joel Miller, all broad shoulders and inherent masculinity, being so soft that makes you love him harder.
Sometimes when you're watching him play with your daughters or watching him cook you all dinner, you feel this overwhelming love for Joel that's almost incapacitating. 
He seems to sense your gaze because his eyes travel over to you. He gives you a playful wink. 
"You look great tonight," Joel says with eyes that linger on your décolletage.
"Thanks," you say taking an equally appreciative look at your husband. "You clean up pretty well yourself."
More than pretty well. Joel Miller is, as Frank had once told you, sex on legs, and you have to agree with the assessment. His linen shirt is rolled to the elbows, showing off his muscled forearms. His hair is brushed back from his face and he's wearing his glasses as he reads the menu. (Something he only does when desperate as you’d found out when living with him). 
Joel wets his lower lip without thinking, his eyes drifting back down the front of your dress. Maria and Tommy are helping Jackson decide on what to order for dinner, distracted from your end of the table.  
"You keep looking at me like that, Miller and we're gonna wind up with another kid," you murmur with a smirk, knowing Sarah's not paying attention.
"I'm not opposed to that," Joel says, his gaze heated. 
"That's because you don't have to carry or pop them out," you reply with a good-natured roll of your eyes. "Just get to do the fun part."
Joel grins as you tilt over the table to fix the bow in Ellie's hair that your mother sent you. Ellie gurgles happily at you, smacking her tiny fists on the table. Joel takes this as an opportunity to not very covertly ogle your chest. 
"Joel," you hiss, even though a smile is breaking out over your features. Joel tries to look innocently up at you, brows raised.
“Yeah baby?”
You want to be irritated, but he knows very well you love it.  
"I don't know this one, Mama," Sarah says pointing to something on the page in her puzzle book. She's normally very independent so you know she must be really stuck.  You glance over at the crossword clue.
"A six lettered spore producer," you read aloud and think for a moment. "Fungus?"
"That fits," Sarah enthuses, her pencil writing hurriedly. 
"Speaking of which, I'll have the mushroom ravioli," you say as your server comes to take your order. Joel orders his chicken penne and Sarah's spaghetti and then his hand comes to fall on yours as the server takes the rest of the orders for the table. 
His hand is heavy and warm, but that's nothing compared to the warmth of his eyes. It's the kind of look you associate with deep thinking, his "dreamy stare" as you've coined it. 
"What are you thinking about, Miller?'
"Just that I never thought I'd be married to the same woman who screamed at me in the parking lot of this very restaurant."
You giggle behind your wineglass, watching Joel's eyes go soft.  
"Or how happy I'd be."
He brings your hand up to his mouth, kissing gently. He holds you there, watching as you stare back at him with eyes so full of love you're shocked Cupid himself hasn't come to give you his job. 
You begin to smirk when Joel's dark eyes drop to your chest and then dart back to your face. 
"I was also thinking about how three is a very nice number. . ."
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bunnyluvs-blog · 8 months
Text
txt reactions: bf!txt when you wear their shirt (smut)
tags ! Suggestive/smut ,, Somnophila ,, thigh riding ,, blindfoldeds ,, degrading ,, semi public sex ,, eating out (will make a full smut on one member if requested)
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Soobin: You always wait for soobin to come home from work. No matter what. However this time, you spent all day hard at work you could barely keep your eyes open on the drive home. You took a quick shower and just threw on whatever you grabbed firsts. Snuggle into the bed, hell it wasn't even your side of the bed. You fell asleep hoping soobin would understand. Well once soobin came home and saw you in his shirt, he was done for. Slowly lifting up his shirt on you, he left small marks and hickeys all over your chest. He knew you had a thing for Somnophilia. And it was one of his major turn ons so why not test it out on his pretty little bunny <3
Yeonjun: While he was in the kitchen making coffee for you guys. You were getting ready for the day. You decided to wear one of your many shirts that you stole from your boyfriend. This one he wore to the ama 2022 award show however. it was too long to be worn as a normal shirt. So you threw on some small shorts and a belt to make it a semi-dress. Without the shorts- if ur raised ur arms ur ass and everything else could be seen. You made your way to your boyfriend, wrapping your arms around him. A soft "hi baby" leaves his mouth as he turns around to face you. Only to see the opening of ur chest pushed up against him. You're ass peaking out since you were on ur tippy toes ? Did he forget to mention how pretty you look in his shirt with your cum running down his leg ? He will just have to show you then.
Beomgyu: God fuck how were you this perfect? Blind fold covering your face as he fucked you in his shirt. The soft fabric didn't even cover much since well- he unbuttoned the whole thing after he got you where you are now. You're moans filling the room as the shirt sleeves slide off of you. "Aww look at you, you're so small my shirt can't even stay on you" he said in a mocking tone as he fucked you harder. He was always one to talk down on you when you were just so submissive too him. He didn't even have to fight u to get the blindfold on. You just listened to him like the dumb pup you are.
Taehyun: "What are you some kinda fucking whore?" God was he pissed off. You looked so damn good while you guys went to the park for your date. A short skirt, Knee socks, and his damn shirt unbuttoned almost to where you could see your chest. Well now the shirt is well off of you. The Starbucks restroom door locked as teahyun bends you over the skin. "Showing over everything damn thing you have, and in your own boyfriends shirt." He hasn't even touched you where u need him most. Hes just been hitting ur ass over and over and over again, you're sure your screams can be heard from the people outside. He pulled your head back by ur hair. "You. Car. Now. You're gonna sit and not whine or beg until we're home. And if you do I'm not gonna let you fucking cum at all." Oh boy did your plan work
Huening kai: you were snuggled up on the couch with hyuka just watching a movie. You've felt as if your plan to make him fuck you failed. And you were just so fed up. You wore his shirt after hearing what your friends bf did to her after she wore his. And damnit you wanted that treatment too. Little did you know hyuka wasn't doing any better then you were. Every 2 minutes you had to pull the shirt back up from falling off. Your damn chest being flashed to him so much. This last time tho, he couldn't take it. Flipping you onto ur back and pulling your panties down to your ankle. Hyuka was done with waiting. "Huen ? What are you doing..?" You ask as if you had no clue. "Im gonna take you let me eat you please..pleaseee you look so good in my shirt I can't hold back" You didn't even get s chance to answer when he licked your clit slowly <3
Reminder !! If a story is requested from one of these I'll probably do it !!
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flowercrowngods · 1 year
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@steddie-week
part 1 (bc this is one big 7 part story)
day 02: bittersweet & angst
1 new message
eddie The Problem munson: engagement party on saturday babyyyy 🥳🥸🕺
Steve’s been staring at the message for two days now. It's sitting in his notifications, staring at him like a painful reminder of what happened exactly seven days ago. A week. It's only been a week, and Steve somehow it feels like it was both only one day or seven months ago.
It's an almost liminal experience, walking through life without texting Eddie every second of the day – because texting him would mean opening his message. It would make this real.
And that's the last thing Steve wants.
"I'm not going," Robin declares as they're cuddling on the couch, wallowing in their misery as Mayday Parade's Oh Well, Oh Well is playing for the eighth time on repeat. "Tell me you're not going, Stevie."
"Robbie," he sighs, squeezing her tighter as she tries to wriggle out of his arms to glare at him.
"Steve."
"I can't not go."
"Yes you can." She pokes him in the ribs, but he doesn't budge. She pokes him again. "Not going to things is literally the easiest thing in the world. It's a hundred times easier than going to things. You should try it sometime, trust me. You go to too many things, and–"
"Bee," he hums to get her out of the rambling spiral before she can get lost in it.
"What I'm saying," he interrupts herself dramatically, "is that you can't do this to yourself. They're engaged. They're getting married. We're going to keep our distance until our brains and hearts and the traitorous little chemicals in our bodies catch up to reality, and then we get over them, and then we can go back and see them ever again. That's the logical thing to do, Steve. But you can't... You can't just go and get your heart broken and talk yourself into thinking it's the right thing to do. It's not."
Steve sighs into her hair and buries his face in her neck. He knows that. Technically, logically, he does.
But not going feels wrong. Wronger than anything else that's been hollowing out his chest and leaving nothing but emptiness and the ghosts of every smile, every touch, every baby, love, sweetheart, sunshine. Every imaginary future, every scenario where Eddie meant it. Meant those words, meant those smiles, meant it when he took Steve's hand to hold it.
But Eddie did mean it. Every time, he meant it; because he calls Argyle and Jeff and Gareth baby and sunshine and sweetheart, too. He takes their hands, too, leans in to kiss their cheeks and just holds them when he needs to. That's just the kind of person Eddie is. Always has been.
To go and assume he never meant it would be unfair.
To go and hope it could ever mean more when Chrissy has always been right there would just be stupid.
Well, good thing Steve has that kind of reputation with a few people anyway, so it's not even a statistical outlier, that one. It's not even worth a side note.
"I know," he rasps, his eyes beginning to sting as the next lyrics are carved into the empty space of where his heart used to be.
Oh well, oh well I can't live with myself As I'm climbing in your window to get to your bed.
And I'll be what you need, You can call me anything. Just as long as we're still friends.
Tears prickle in his eyes and he doesn't bother to hold them back. Not now, not with Robin. They've both been crying on and off all week, even though Robin took it better than him.
"I know," he sobs, wrapping his arms around her even tighter as she lets herself be held because she knows that's what he needs. "I know, I know, I know. But I have to. I can't just... I can't just stop, Bee."
"I know," she sighs, climbing out of his hold eventually to wrap her arms around him in return as he cries into her shoulder.
The world (read: his Spotify playlist) makes it worse by playing Sum 41's With Me next, ripping out even the newly carved words.
Robin holds him for the rest of the night, even as he finally opens Eddie's message and types out a reply.
—I'll come!
And especially when there's a new message immediately.
—hot 🥵❤️
He leaves Eddie on read after that.
~*~
Saturday rolls around in a haze, and suddenly Steve finds himself looking at the front door of the little house Chrissy inherited after her mother passed a few years ago. It's a nice little house. Quaint. Perfect. Everything Steve could ever dream of, actually. And she deserves it. All of this and more.
There's noise coming from the garden, where people are laughing and having a great time. A happy time, celebrating their friends and all the good things in life that come with a love well placed.
God, what is he doing here? He can't do this. There is no way.
He's just about to pull out his phone and call Robin, tell her he's coming home, or ask her to tell him everything's gonna be alright, when–
"Steve!" Chrissy hurries towards him, throwing her arms around him in a tight, warm, perfect hug. God, he loves her so much. He melts right into the embrace, wrapping his arms around her middle to spin her around with a grin.
She giggles in delight and tells him to let her down again, which only makes him spin for another round, his grin turning into a genuine laugh.
"No, I hate you!" she laughs, but still doesn't step away from him when he puts her down again. Instead, she leans up and brushes a kiss to his cheek. "Hi, asshole."
"Hi."
He grins and takes her hands in his, just smiling at her for another moment before his eyes trail down to a ring he's never seen her wear before. Ah. Right.
"Oh shit! That it?"
"That's it," Chrissy says, looking down at her hand to look at the ring with a fond, happy little smile, her cheeks flushing red. It breaks Steve a little, but it also fixes something inside him to see her so truly, genuinely happy. "Pretty huh?"
"Very," Steve breathes, hiding the lump in his throat with a sound of awe.
Chrissy hugs him again for good measure and then takes his hand to drag him into the backyard the same way she just came out front, through a little gate off to the side instead of through the house.
Steve loves their backyard because it's always covered in sheerly endless colourful strings of light that are wrapped around decorative arches or poles, framing the back doors and the canopy swing set on the lawn, and just give it the most homey and comfortable atmosphere.
"Stevie!" Eddie exclaims immediately and jumps off from his chair, interrupting a conversation he's apparently been having with Argyle and Nancy to run up to him with such a giddy expression that Steve wants to cry. His heart leaps in his chest, coming back to life and saying one last goodbye at the same time.
"Hi," he says, hugging Eddie close before he can so much as think about what he's doing. But no matter how hurt he is, there will never be a world in which he won't want to hug Eddie Munson. "Sorry I'm late."
"No sorries, it's fine," Eddie murmurs into his neck, staying in the embrace endlessly, and Steve takes the chance to breathe him in. He smells so good. So, so good. It clogs his lungs and renders him unable to speak.
But who needs to speak when they have Eddie in their arms? Who needs to speak when all they have to do is never let go?
Eddie squeezes him a little tighter, and Steve wants to cry. He slowly, gently pushes away from the hug and turns towards the other guests, greeting them with a grin, a hug, or a handshake if they're not familiar.
When he gets to Wayne, the man eyes him with a look that Steve doesn't want to read too much, and his embrace is just a little longer, just a little stronger than usual.
“You look tired, son,” he says by way of greeting, and Steve can’t help but snort and shake his head a little.
“Good to see you again, too, old man.”
Wayne eyes him for one moment longer, then breaks into a small smile and pats Steve’s shoulder before stepping around him to go grab another drink.
After that, the night passes in a blur of talking to his friends, trying to understand what the hell it is that has Nancy and Argyle arguing so profusely, but with smiles on their faces. He fails. But it’s good to see them again, so he just basks in it for a while.
Or, he tries, because every second that he’s not talking or listening to someone, his eyes flick back to Eddie. Eddie, who’s lifting Chrissy from behind and smacking a loud, wet kiss to her neck, her jaw and her cheek, accompanied by her delighted squeals and laughter.
Eddie, who’s looking larger than life, a happy grin permanently plastered on his face as he reminds their guests that Chrissy was his bisexual awakening.
“I swear, she just swept me off my feet after years of thinking I was only into dudes. Knew I had to marry her, but man, I don’t know why she said yes.”
“I’m settling, honey,” Chrissy calls from the other end of the table they’re sitting around. “Only in it for that rockstar money and all.”
The whole table laughs at that.
“Hear, hear,” Eddie snorts, lifting his glass in a toast. Steve and the others lift theirs, too, even though Steve’s hand and arm and whole body feels numb and he’s not entirely sure he’s breathing.
A while later, he grabs a drink and retreats to the canopy swing, illuminated in the soft pink flow of the fairy lights wrapped around it. Eddie’s eyes land on him for a second and Steve thinks that he’ll come over and join him — but then one of Chrissy’s friends says something that distracts him and seemingly makes him fall into a monologue of sorts.
Steve watches, feeling only loss and longing as he does. Eddie is a force of nature. A spectacle. Something beautiful, something powerful, something secret that only a select few get to witness. To know. To appreciate.
Staring as he is, blind to the rest of the world, he startles a little when the swing jostles with another weight settling on it. He didn’t see Wayne coming to join him, and he’s not quite sure whether he should be grateful for the company or apprehensive of what the man who’s like a father to him might have to say.
“How are you doing, son?”
He frowns. “I’m alright.”
Wayne only hums, and Steve’s frown deepens. There’s a nagging feeling in the back of his mind that tells him Wayne knows something. That he knows.
“Y’know,” he continues after a while, not looking at Steve but rather at his nephew and his fiancée. “I always figured it would be you.”
Steve crumbles. Yeah, me too, he wants to say, but that would be a lie. Watching the way Chrissy sits on Eddie’s lap with his arms around her, his chin on her shoulder as he tells her something that makes her laugh that cute, pretty, adorable laugh that Eddie then can’t help but join — that’s just something Steve would never compare to. Nothing he’d ever want to come in between.
Eddie and Chrissy are perfect. They’re happy. They fit, they match, they work. They worked so hard and treat each other so right.
They look giddy and serene at the same time, and it makes Steve’s eyes sting. Because he can never make Eddie look like that. He can never make Eddie look at him like that.
I always figured it would be you.
But he couldn’t. That bubbly kind of love, the sunshine kind of love. He knows that’s not for him. Steve’s too much for that. He would never be enough for Eddie — even if without Eddie, there’s nothing left of him.
“Don’t get me wrong,” Wayne continues, unaware of Steve’s thought spiral. “I love that girl, I do. Always will. I think she’s too good for Eddie. Don’t tell him I said that,” he adds hastily, and Steve smiles through the tears that threaten to fall again.
“They’re perfect,” he rasps, laughing wetly as Chrissy starts chasing Eddie, who’s hiding behind a very distressed Argyle, who just wants his brochachos to chill!
Maybe it’s a laugh, maybe it’s a sob. He doesn’t have it in him to find out or care.
“They are. Doesn’t mean they’re right, son.”
Steve sighs and tears his eyes away from Eddie. “Wayne.”
“I know, I know.” He lifts his hands in defence. “Shutting up.” After a long pause of holding Steve’s eyes, he asks, “Will you be okay?”
No, he thinks immediately, the lump in his throat too big to say anything. So he just shrugs and swallows. “Sure.”
Maybe. Hardly. Probably not. Definitely not.
"No matter what happens, you'll always be a son to me. You’ll always have a home with an open door with me, you hear me?"
"I’m not going anywhere, wayne," Steve says, though for the first time ever he doesn't really believe that. Maybe he needs to leave. To leave Eddie behind. Get over him. Cut out his heart and leave it here, run away to heal somewhere else, come back as a new person, or just stay away forever.
The thought makes a tear spill as an empty kind of desperation spreads it’s ugly wings inside his chest, and he's too frozen to wipe it away.
"You hear me?" Wayne repeats, gentler this time, but no less urgent for it.
"Yeah," steve rasps. "Thanks."
Another tear falls as Eddie gently pulls Chrissy closer to him and kisses her in the soft glow of the fairy lights above and around them. Their friends cheer. Steve wants to cry his heart out again.
“I—“ he swallows, wiping at his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. I can’t do this, he wants to say. For the first time, that’s what he wants to say. “I think I’m gonna head home soon.”
“You bring your car?”
He shakes his head, feeling foggy and dazed and empty and endlessly, endlessly sad. “Was gonna, uh—“
“Let me drive you.” There’s no room for debate or argument there, and Steve wants to crumble again, but still he shakes his head.
“Wayne, no—“
“I’m taking you, son. Make sure you get home safe, or I won’t be able to sleep tonight. Don’t wanna keep your old man up all night, do ya?”
Steve concedes with a fond eye roll and a grateful smile. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“That’s what I thought.”
They sit like that for another ten minutes — and if Steve leans into Wayne’s side a little, then that’s nobody’s business but theirs.
The car ride is quiet, but it feels weighted even as Wayne pretends not to see the way Steve keeps wiping at his cheeks as the silent tears keep falling, leaving him powerless to stop them.
I can’t do this, he keeps thinking over and over again.
“Just a little warning,” Wayne speaks up again as he pulls up to Steve’s building. “I think he’s going to ask you to be his best man, Stevie. Don’t do anything you’re not ready for, okay?”
I can’t do this.
He nods, numb again.
“I’ll do anything for him,” he breathes.
“That’s what I’m afraid of, yeah.”
He gets out of the car before he can find out what exactly Wayne means by that. The car stays where it is until the front door closes behind him, until he’s up in his bedroom and finds Robin already asleep.
Ten minutes later, he cuddles close to her and tries hard not to cry, but tonight’s memories have burned themselves into his mind. And he shouldn’t have gone. He knows. He knows.
I’ll do anything. I can’t do this. I’ll do anything. I can’t do this.
He can’t breathe, and Robin holds him through it, whispering sleepily to him as he cries himself to sleep, wishing for a world where he’s not absolutely and utterly in love with Eddie Munson, but failing to imagine one.
I’ll do anything. Anything but this.
tagging: @sexymothmanincarnate @mcneen come back tomorrow for idk which prompt | read part 3 here
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springwitch26 · 6 months
Note
Hey you're writing is so beautiful and *cough cough* incredibly hot, would you be down to write a Melissa brat tamer oneshot 😅
No pressure ofc!
-anon
tear you apart (melissa schemmenti x fem!reader)
summary: you're feeling bratty and melissa is all too happy to punish you.
warnings: smut (18+), brat taming, punishment, degradation, spanking, humiliation, overstim, voyeurism? basically unhinged content + agatha harkness obsession disease 💜
notes: thank you anon for your kind words and this request! hope this is worth the wait. melissa is such a brat tamer and i'm reminded of that every time she makes a biting comment or threatens to fight someone. she needs a girl who can take it and then give it right back.
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all you ever wanted was to make melissa feel good.
you knew from the start of your relationship that she was a top. but at first, you weren't sure what she liked: did she want you to be her good girl? or did she enjoy a challenge?
within a few weeks, you had pieced together the answer: it depended on the day. on bad days, all she wanted was her sweet, obedient angel.
one night she came home deflated, having fought with barbara over a teacher appreciation gift from the district. she pulled you into her and didn't let go, holding you close through hours of gentle sex. you were so soft, so comforting, so good.
"come sit on my lap, babydoll," she had said, patting her legs where she sat on the sofa. you obliged.
"are you okay?" you asked, searching her eyes for frustration and regret.
"i am now," she whispered as she caressed up your thighs, smiling as you nuzzled into her neck to hide your whimper. "just do what i say 'n make your pretty noises, and i'll be just fine."
good days were a different story. competition and conflict excited melissa. she felt most like herself when she was telling somebody off or winning some game. so, when things were quiet at work or when she was feeling playful, you were more than happy to give her the challenge she craved. your attitude drove her insane, and putting you in your place was always exhilarating.
tonight was a good night. you could tell from the moment she walked in the door, carrying that massive read-a-thon belt. she was on top of the world after her victory, and now she needed another conquest.
you twirled around the kitchen as you cooked dinner in your thin sleep shirt and little shorts. melissa loved seeing you like this: comfy, happy, and best of all, lightly clothed.
you smirked to yourself as you hatched a plan. instead of greeting her like usual, you pretended not to see her come in. then you held up your phone and took a selfie that just happened to provide a view down your shirt. melissa saw it all.
"whatcha doin', hon?" melissa raised an eyebrow at you, still smiling from a great day at work.
"oh, nothing. just texting ava," you replied coyly. melissa's jaw clenched ever so subtly.
you had been friends with ava since back when you were still working at abbott. melissa wasn't jealous of your friendship with ava. no, what irritated her was how shamelessly ava would check you out and hit on you. ava's advances were never serious, she knew that. but melissa also knew that ava hit on you at least as much as she did gregory, and that was a problem in her book.
you smiled at her and went back to your cooking like it was nothing. you were in for a fight tonight.
...
when you sat down in the living room to binge-watch wandavision after dinner, melissa attempted to stroke up your thighs several times. you refused her and innocently cuddled into her side.
all was going according to plan until you heard agatha say "good girl" on the television. you shuddered and pressed your legs together, and it did not go unnoticed by melissa.
"aw, hon. does that make you feel needy?"
she had the upper hand. but you could still salvage this.
"yes, agatha drives me crazy," you said, meeting her gaze and giving her a sultry smug look.
"i thought you liked wanda..." she grumbled, her jaw clenched. it was working.
"mmm no, agatha is more my type," you drawled. you remembered melissa dressed as the scarlet witch. that sinfully sexy costume. she had done it for you.
the fact that you were switching up on her now made her livid. your type? she wasn't your type?
"god, kathryn hahn..." you whispered when the camera focused in on agatha's magical fingers, absolutely selling that you were turned on. it pushed melissa over the edge.
in one swift move, she shut the tv off and crawled on top of you, pushing you into the couch by your sternum. the look in her eyes was dark, fiery, dangerous.
"take your clothes off," melissa growled, fire bubbling behind her eyes.
she pulled herself off of you and sat looking you over from the other end of the couch, an expectant look on her face.
"yes, ma'am," you scrambled to comply with her instructions, stripping eagerly in front of her.
"leave the panties on," melissa stopped you before you could drag your thong down your legs. "on the bed."
the two of you rushed up the stairs and over to the bedroom, her grabbing at your waist the entire time. melissa sat back against the pillows, her legs spread for you. she gestured between her legs and you knew what she wanted.
you squealed and quickly adjusted yourself to straddle her, your legs on either side of hers as you unbuttoned her shirt. she sat upright against the pillows, her messy hair framing her heated face.
once you had removed her shirt and bra, she fisted her hands in your hair and pushed your head downward. you quietly whimpered at the manhandling. she took the initiative to swiftly pull her pants and panties down to her ankles, giving you just one firm command: "be a good girl."
you parted her legs gently and dove in, licking wide stripes up her folds but avoiding her clit to tease her. it wasn't long before you felt a fist in your hair, pulling you off of her to meet her frustrated gaze.
"unless you want red handprints all over your ass, don't fuckin' tease," she sneered.
you were torn: you wanted that punishment, but you also wanted to be a good girl for her. you chose to be good for now, attaching your lips to her clit and making her groan in satisfaction. you could always push her buttons later.
"that's it, honey, right there," she choked out as you swirled your tongue around her clit. she wouldn't last long, already worked up from seeing you strip for her.
you lapped at her and sucked on her bundle of nerves, enjoying the chorus of good girl and don't stop until you felt her legs start to tremble around you. at that point, you pulled back, leaving her bucking up into nothing.
you gave her a mischievous grin and started to trace your lips with your thumb absentmindedly. you watched her seethe in anger, never taking her eyes off of you.
"oh, sorry, i think i smudged my lipstick. give me a second," you could hardly contain your giddiness at how angry she looked. you needed her to lose control.
without missing a beat, she grabbed your hair and forcefully pushed you back between her legs. all of her gentleness was gone.
"such a dumb fucking slut. can't even follow simple instructions," she scolded. "finish me off, whore, and then we'll work on your behavior."
you felt yourself get soaked again at the manhandling, her seething words and her promise to punish you. eager to make up for your misbehavior, you ate her out with reckless abandon. she reached her high within minutes, whispering filthy things to you the whole time.
"fuck, that's good. lookin' up at me like that with your big doe eyes. i'm gonna come all over that pretty, smart mouth."
she came with a low groan, coating your lips in her wetness. the sight was pornographic: you looked at her with hooded eyes and wet lips, slightly fearful of her next move. it was exhilarating.
when she had recovered, she sat up and stared you down, a twisted smirk on her face. you swore you knew what she would say before the words left her mouth.
"bend over my lap, beautiful." her tone was dark, but you could hear the excitement behind her words.
you scrambled to obey, laying face-down on her lap with your ass up, wiggling gently in front of her. enticing her.
for a minute, there was silence. she just watched in amusement as you squirmed in her lap, desperate for any kind of attention from her. from where she sat, she could see your arousal glistening on your thighs. she was drunk on the power.
"a little desperate, hmmm?" she teased. you nodded frantically. she started to trace light patterns on your ass with her fingernail. "let me tell you what's gonna happen now. i'm gonna spank your cute little ass until you're crying and begging me to stop. then, i'm gonna fuck you until you're so sensitive that you can't stand to be touched any more. sound good?"
while she was nonchalant, you were almost at your breaking point from her words alone. you were completely at her mercy. you managed a "yes" and nodded intently for her to continue with her plan, desperate to see it through to the end.
it was hardly a second later when she slapped your ass, hard. you should have seen it coming, but you still yelped in surprise. you felt throbbing between your legs as the pain spread through you.
this went on for a while, and eventually you lost count of how many times she'd hit your backside. tears rolled down your cheeks, and you hardly felt them. and you were soaking her lap with your arousal. melissa whispered filthy things to you the entire time.
"my pretty, little, brat," she emphasized each word with a harder slap.
when it finally stopped, she started to caress you all over and praise you for taking your punishment so well. her soft touch brought you back to reality, and she guided you to sit up.
"wow, sweetheart. you really made a mess," melissa said, gesturing to her legs which were sticky with your wetness. you hid your face in your hands.
"stop it, you know i wanna see you. in fact..." she trailed off with a smirk and reached to grab her phone off the nightstand. "touch yourself."
your mouth fell open at the command, and she gave you a challenging look. not wanting to push her any farther tonight, you did as she asked and tried to find a comfortable position.
"spread 'em wide, princess," she said, smiling down at her phone like she wasn't watching your every move.
a burning heat ran through you at her words. you leaned back and started to gently circle your clit through your panties, anxiously awaiting her next move. you were a whimpering, blushing mess when she finally looked up at you with a grin.
"stay just like that," she said while bringing her phone up to point it at you. you heard the clicking noise of the iphone camera and your eyes widened. melissa had never done anything like this before.
"w-what are you doing?" you barely managed the sentence as your fingers worked you up, making you gasp.
"oh, just givin' myself a little treat for later," she replied coyly. "and maybe next time you act up, i'll show ya these. make ya remember your place."
you shifted uncomfortably, feeling hot all over from your fingers and the humiliation. melissa noticed and put her phone aside to look in your eyes.
"color?" she whispered.
"pink..." you replied shyly. that meant she could keep going. she smiled and cupped your face in her hands, kissing you softly.
her hand traveled down to remove yours from between your legs. she finally laid you down on the bed, running her hands up your thighs. your legs fell open for her and she leaned in to inspect your swollen folds.
she hummed as she trailed two fingers through your wetness, earning her a pitiful noise. when she pulled away and mosied over to the dresser drawer, you knew what she was going to do.
"i think you're wet enough for the strap, don't you?" she pulled out a bright red one that you had never seen before. she watched your eyes as you reacted to its size.
"i bought this as a surprise for you knowin' you'd go crazy over it," she mused as she adjusted the harness and attached the dildo to it.
"mel, it's... big," you said, looking up at her with wide eyes as she positioned herself above you.
"yeah, hon, that's why i bought it," she teased, smirking as if it was the most obvious reply in the world. you breathed a sigh of relief as she covered the strap in a thick layer of lube.
she took the cock in one hand and maneuvered it through your folds, pressing on your clit and making you cry out. you shuddered when she positioned it at your entrance.
"you ready for me?" melissa trailed a finger under your chin and forced you to meet her eyes.
"pink," you breathed, and she pushed the tip in. you felt the stretch immediately, and melissa used her free hand to rub your abdomen soothingly.
she continued to work her way into you, her hand never stopping its comforting motions. when she bottomed out, you felt so full you could hardly breathe. it was a thrill.
you nodded at her to signal she could move, and she started to fuck you slow and hard. the size of the strap-on allowed her to hit places that you'd never felt before, and you couldn't hold back your moans.
her thrusts became rougher very quickly, and she dug her thumbs into your hips to balance herself. you knew there would be marks there tomorrow. her pace and the low groans she let out suggested that she was still hanging on to some frustration in need of release.
she hit your g-spot and you screamed, overwhelmed with the feeling of her. she noticed the telltale signs of your orgasm approaching: shaking legs, parted lips, strangled moans. in response, melissa reached down to rub your bundle of nerves roughly, and that sent you over the edge.
"good girl, so good," she coaxed you through your high. you thought she would stop after one. oh how naive you were. you were trembling and squirming away from her, and she just continued to rub your clit, rocking gently inside you.
"come on, honey, give me another, i know you can," she encouraged you, peppering you with sweet kisses. you nodded and she started to fuck you again in earnest.
every nerve ending in your body was buzzing, and all you could feel was melissa. she thrusted into you like her life depended on it, and you admired her face as she worked you. her red hair hung around her face, which had also become red from the exertion. it felt amazing—hell, it felt insane—to feel her hitting all the most sensitive spots inside you. but it felt even more amazing to have the sexiest woman on the planet on top of you, working your body like it was her life's mission.
when your second orgasm washed over you, it was more intense than the first. it drained all the power from your body and you surrendered yourself to your fiery lover. she again whispered sweet nothings in your ear to help you along. when you had stopped shuddering, she pulled out.
you caught your breath and watched her rise to her feet, humming as she took off the strap. you could see a devious glint in her expression that told you you weren't done quite yet.
after that small taste of relief, melissa stalked over to you and spread your legs once more. you whined in discomfort, too sensitive to take any more.
"shhhh, baby, lemme clean you," she soothed before beginning to lap at you, savoring your taste. she tried to avoid your clit but her nose brushed against it, bringing a pained noise from you. she hummed into you and kept going, stroking your legs to relax you.
after you had gotten comfortable with the feeling of her tongue she drifted up to your clit, circling it but avoiding direct contact. you gasped and bucked up into her mouth despite your best efforts. even the smallest touch felt like an electric shock.
when your whines turned to quiet moans, melissa wrapped her mouth around your clit and started to suck, rolling her tongue over it. the pressure was white-hot and deadly, and it sent you over the edge in seconds.
"my sweet angel, i love you, you did so well for me..." she comforted you through the comedown. she stroked your sides and you relaxed into her touch, your heartbeat finally slowing. she placed a fond kiss on your forehead, then got up to get a washcloth and some water for you.
...
"i won the read-a-thon today..." she said while she cleaned you.
"i noticed," you giggled, smiling up at her. the love in her eyes made the green irises sparkle and swim with possibility. "i'm so proud of you."
"you coulda said that earlier!" she joked, recalling your misbehavior. there was a comfortable silence before she spoke again. "actually, i think i like it when you fight me a little."
you gazed at her fondly and laughed again, feeling warm and cared for. "i noticed."
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no-nameno-face · 1 year
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Taken Care Of Audio (read story first)
TAKEN CARE OF (WITH AUDIO)
Pairing: Reader x Ellie Williams
Summary: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, minors do not interact. You will be blocked. Ellies had a long, hard day on patrol, and after stitching her up she requests some TLC. 
Warnings: Smut heavy, sub!reader, dom!ellie, face riding (E!receiving), oral (E!receiving), masturbation (R!), cum eating (kinda)? Praise kink, minor blood kink, pain kink, stitches, boob play (E!receiving), first time smut writing, did not proof read (but probably should have...)
Author's Notes: Soooo I've never written smut before, lmfao. I made the audio first, for my thirsty Ellie girls on tiktok but this audio got a bit… out of hand (wayyy too graphic) so I didn't want to post it on there. I had a whole scenario in mind with the audio so I figured I might as well write it down and share it here. I am also very obsessed with Ellie receiving so I subconsciously brought that to life while editing the audio. I know it's not great, but it was very fun to make and write soo.. Please be nice to me, I'm sensitive. Lol. (I put in the story when the audio clip applies, the story starts with context) I’d like to improve my writing cause this was a good time so any advice would be appreciated!!
I hear the door downstairs creak open and shut, a bit louder than normal. I can track the footsteps marching to the stairs and I listen with a small smile as the thuds make their way up. I hear soft profanities getting closer. Ellie is home. 
Sitting on our bed I turn my head right in time to see the door open, grinning at her as she walks in. She has that crease in her brow that I recognize as her tell-tell sign that she had a shit day. She shoots me a sly glance before looking away to take her flannel off leaving her in a white tank, dirty and disheveled she pulls it over her head. 
My eyes trace down her back, scarred and bruised. Muscular, and toned. Heart flutters, and a familiar heat builds. It's crazy how after all these years just seeing her still triggers these primal feelings. She just does something to me. She always has. My eyes stop wondering when I see a deep fresh cut following the curve of her hip. 
“Shit els? What happened” I get up and pace towards her keeping my eyes on the wound. 
She bends over pulling her shoes off, losing her balance a bit and mumbling a frustrated “fuck” under her breath. Now behind her, I prod at the gash and she swears again. I can feel her flinch. 
“I'll go get the stitches, sit down.” I say pulling her to the bed. She hits the bed with a thud and leans her elbows onto her knees.Shaking her head “it's not that bad babe, im fine.” She looks up at me and gives a half-hearted smile.
“I know you're fine,” I say, giving her a gentle look “I just don't want it to get infected, okay?” 
“Anything you say doc” she says with a smirk before turning to address the cut herself. She touches it lightly and winces when her fingers make contact. I head to the bathroom across the hall from our room and grab the small white kit from the medicine cabinet, and make my way back to our room. She's still sitting at the end of the bed, now rolling her neck side to side. 
I plop on the bed behind her, “okay, are you gonna tell me what happened now?” trying to distract her as I begin stitching the gash closed. Her back flexes and I hear her sharp intake of breath. Heart flutters. 
“Fucking stalkers. I hate those things” she says, shaking her head and looking up to the ceiling. “I was on patrol,”
“With Jesse right?”
“Don't remind me,” she says with a scoff that is cut off by another huff as I add a new stitch. Damn. Every breath in sync with the sutures releases a morbid butterfly into the pit of my stomach.  “Yeah, I was on patrol with jesse. We were checking out that one restaurant by the lodge, and I found an entrance to the attic. That place has been cleared out for like forever, so I went up on my own and got jumped by a stalker.” she shrugged her shoulders. “Fucking thing nailed me into an old piece of plywood. Piece of shit.” I tie her last stitch off, and give her a gentle pat to tell her she was finished. I got up and made my way to the bathroom to put the kit back.
I turned in the doorway on my way out, “Maybe you should’ve been more careful.” She swings her head at me with squinted eyes. I shrug and turn, heading to the bathroom “just saying!” 
“Fuck off” she calls back, I lightly laugh.
Back in the bedroom, she's lying on her stomach, head resting on her hands. “And then of course Jesse had to give me a fucking lecture about not going anywhere on my own, team communication! All that bullshit.” She turns onto her side propping herself up with one arm, “I’m just so fucking over it.” she looked absolutely exasperated. Oh how I love her dramatics. I sit facing her and her free hand falls to my hip. She looks at her hand, then up to me. Those green eyes, familiar and warm. Home. I smile at her. 
“That sucks. I'm sorry. I mean Jesse should know by now, there's no getting through that thick skull of yours. What's a lecture gonna do?” I smirk at her.
“Ouch.” she sneers at me, one brow up. She lets out a quiet laugh, and looks back down to her hand on my waist. “Thanks for stitching me up babe.”
“You know I don't mind.” I say casually. She smiles, an inside joke painting a picture on the walls of her thoughts. 
“So weird that you're into that.” she chuckles
“I'm not into that.. I just..” her eyes darted to mine. My heart pounded in my ears. She's right, but it was just so blunt. “There's just something about a strong woman who needs my help.” I say fawning innocent eyes, partially joking, but subconsciously egging her on. She sees right through me.  
She raises her eyebrows, taking her hand from my hip and pushing herself up so she's sitting opposite of me. She smiles, “so stupid.” her eyes drift down to my lips, then back to me. I feel red flush my cheeks. Her gaze darkens slightly, noticing. She tilts her head looking at me. “I mean it's okay that you are, i'm not kink shaming” Her hand meets my thigh, electric, and she gives me a sideways smile. I gape at her, trying to make light of the tension building between us.
“So you like taking care of strong women? Yeah?” she says quietly with a smile in her voice as her eyes trace down my body to her hand. Her thumb started circling the sensitive skin of my inner thigh. “Funny, you're normally the one that begs to be'' she looks up at me teasingly “taken care of.” Fuck. I feel heat pool in my belly. My knees squeeze together by their own volition. She feels it and her teasing gaze turns to something else as her eyes shift to them. She bites her lip subtly. This woman. 
Her hand moves to the button of her pants, “well i did have a hard day,” she undoes it and glances at me with an evil smile. “And since you enjoy taking care of strong women” she pulled on her zipper. “Mind doing me a favor?”
Jesus Christ.
“What do you have in mind?” I say, wide eyed. I try to sound cool but my voice comes out hungry. Starved. I watch the switch flip in Ellie's eyes at my words. 
“Take your shirt off.” she demanded with raised brows, and before I could think I was pulling her baggy shirt I was lounging in over my head. I'm left sitting there topless, with nothing but my black underwear on. She rolled famished eyes over my bare skin for what seemed like an eternity. Her eyes settled back on mine. I fidgeted my hands in my lap, feeling suddenly too vulnerable. She leans in slowly without breaking eye contact and my breath catches. Inches from me she whispers “Take off my pants.” 
Immediately I am in her service, at her beck and call. She knows all she has to do is ask. I'll do anything for her. She leans back onto her hands and lifts her hips slightly as I peel her jeans down the soft, yet lean, curves of her hips. Down her thighs, over her knees, and then calves, my eyes tracing every line of her legs. I toss them on the floor, and look back up to her awaiting further instruction. Her eyes are smiling with a dark inflection. 
“Lay down.” I looked at her confused, thinking I was the one taking care of her. Her tone was not a question however, so I obliged. I centered myself on the bed and pulled the nearest pillow under my head, keeping my eyes on her as she stood up and took her white boxers off. My breath caught in my throat at the sight of her. Pretty, untamed. My knees squeeze, I don't try to hide it. She looks at them, and scans back up to my eyes. She stares into me as she walks around the bed to my side. I bite at my nail anxiously. 
“I want you to take care of me, make me feel good m’kay? Can you do that for me?” she asks with a small smile. I nod.
She looks over me once again (START OF AUDIO) “fuck, you look so pretty.” She climbs onto the bed, looking at me like prey to a predator. “Be a good girl for me” she whispers, as she swings one of her legs over my head. Shit, I get it now. Her pussy meets my lips and she lets out a soft “fuck” at my eager mouth. My arms wrap around her thighs, hands gripping soft flesh. She starts to move, pleasuring herself on my tongue. She moans softly, “needed this” she says desperately as her eyes drift close and her head drifts to the ceiling. Her taste envelopes me, her wetness growing by the second with the addition of my saliva wetting her folds. 
“Okay,” she moans, picking up her pace, grinding against my face. She looks down at me, before her eyes dart shut “There!”  I feel her body pulse at the peak of her thrusts and I know she's found her spot. Her bud flicking roughly over my tongue. “Oh shit.. There. There we go” she continues at her pace for a moment. Her pulsing getting stronger. Her eyes snap open and peer at me “Jesus, you feel so good.” she says as her head rolls back and her eyes closed again. She continues her rhythm as I pull my arm from under her leg and skim my hand up her body “okay” she says lost in the sensation. My palm cups her right breast and I squeeze impatiently, then rub a loving thumb over her nipple, circling it. “Damn… yeah” she sighs then her hand meets mine and squeezes the sensitive flesh with me “Baby just like that.” she bites her lip with a whispered “fuck” as she rides my face. 
Her moans and the graphic sound of her wetness fill the room. I reach my other hand down into my underwear and begin circling my own clit firmly, unable to avoid the tension building within my own body. “Fuck me.” she whines into the air, before looking down to me with adoring eyes, “that's my good girl.” her eyes tighten, “lets go” she whispers as she begins to grind harder and faster into my mouth. “Come on.” My hand on my core meets her pace. “Good. There. Okay. There we go” I love how she talks mindlessly when we fuck. Her voice is enough to bring me closer to my own apex. I begin moaning beneath her, unable to contain my own pleasure. She looks down at me “shhhh shh shh shh” she hushes as she pulls my hand from my aching clit before I can reach my undoing. I whimper in disappointment as she pulls my arm from beneath her leg and takes my other one from her chest before pinning them above my head in her strong hands, deepening her weight into my face. “Shut up” she corrects. 
Her rhythm continues and I can tell the new pressure she's added is building her quickly. “God damn.” she says as her eyes squeeze shut. “Okay” That same wrinkle between her eyes deepens again, this time out of pleasure. She rides harder pushing the back of my head further into the pillow. Her moans grow louder, more animalistic. her hands on my wrists tighten to the point that I am sure that there will be a mark. “Holy fuck” she gasps. She pushes hard against me and I can feel the pulse intensify, her sounds grow and grow until suddenly her hands let go of my wrists and bury deep into my hair, pushing me even further into her just at the right time when her head falls back in quiet breathy moans, she rides out her high on my mouth. Her legs shaking and clit pounding as I suck against it,  encouraging her. Tasting her. Worshiping her. She lets out a whimpering breath at the end of her climax and looks down at me beneath her. “Oh my god babe.” She slowly lifts off of my face and I see her flinch slightly at the air touching her sensitivity. She takes a breath before looking at me with a lazy smile.
 “All right. Your turn.”
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chlorinecake · 8 months
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“I cherish you” | N.RK ff ༄
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༄ Last year’s Valentine’s Day marked the day you and your boyfriend Riki first starting dating. Ever since then, he spoils you on the 14th day of every month in honor of your love story…
🍒 pairing bf!nishimura riki x fem!reader genre romance, fluff 🍒
༄ wc 1.1k ~ written with black reader in mind ~ requested !
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You found your boyfriend in your shared apartment bathroom doing his typical morning routine. You walked up behind him, snaking your hands beneath his shirt to pull him closer. Pressing your cheek against his back, you could smell a new body wash he must’ve used. Or maybe it was cologne?
“Morning,” Riki mumbled through a mouthful of minty foam, wiping his mouth before turning to kiss the top of your head.
“Good morning,” you returned warmly.
He ran a clawed hand through your hair before his fingers got caught in your curls. You winced at the sudden tug before giggling at the worried expression that waved over Riki’s face.
“Sorry, baby! Did I hurt you?”
“No, Riki, but you did remind me that I need to comb my hair,” you smiled, freeing him from your clingy grasp.
You searched through the bathroom drawer for a few products to style your hair. In the meantime, your boyfriend was busy lathering his face with shaving cream.
“Uh,” you started confused, “what’re you doing?”
“Prepping to shave my beard.”
You snorted, “Your what?”
“I’m not as young as I was when we first met, y’know? This is what men do.”
“Mhm, and who told you that?”
“Heeseung-hyung. He’s one of the best people I can go to for advice. Especially with girls.”
“Oh, so you’re a man and I’m just a girl?”
“For now, yes. Though, maybe in a few years I’ll make you my woman if you stick around long enough,” he winked, making you cringe but in a loving way.
“Hey, I wanna try,” you chirped, snatching the razor from his hand.
“Woah, ____! Did you forget there’s a sharp blade on that thing?”
“Oh, c’mon! You’re a man now, remember? Don’t tell me you’re scared of your girlfriend.”
He shook his head at your teasing, “only when she’s on her period… that’s when she get's really crazy.”
You nudged him in the shoulder, making him giggle.
“Okay, now hold still,” you said, guiding him by his chin as you slid the razor against his face, checking after each stroke for any access hair. “Riki, there’s nothing on here!”
“Gimme that,” he said, taking the razor from your hand to examine it for himself. And to no one’s surprise, there wasn’t any hair on it.
“Ugh, this is useless,” he whined, wiping his face before leaving the bathroom.
You followed after him, “Riki, is everything okay? Why’re you putting so much stress into getting ready today?”
He looked at you with offended eyes, “Don’t tell me you forgot today marks our 14th month anniversary.”
Suddenly, everything started to make sense.
“Riki, you don’t have to try and impress me. I love you just the way you are like I always have,” you smiled, holding his hands in yours.
“I love you too, ____, but that doesn’t mean I’m not gonna spoil you on our anniversary.”
Riki was never one to consider gift-giving to be one of his love languages. Not until he asked you to be his girlfriend on Valentine's Day over a year ago.
The day started with him showering you with gifts and praise as an attempt to earn your love which he already had. These days, your romantic boyfriend can't help but to celebrate the day he won you, even though his friends call him a simp for it.
And in perfect cliche fashion, your anniversary happens to fall on the 14th day of every month, which is what brings you here today.
“Spoil me, huh?” You grinned, “so what do you have planned? I mean, sometimes I feel like we’ve done everything already.”
“You know I'll always think of something new. But for now, it's a surprise. You’ll find out after we finished getting ready.”
You and your boyfriend shared the bathroom for the next 25 minutes as you two got dressed together, wearing the cutest matching red outfits that he picked out a whole week prior to today.
“You look absolutely stunning, ____,” he marveled, taking in your frame like a work of art.
Your stomach fluttered at his remark, “Oh please, you’re just proud of your work.”
“Maybe,” he smirked, pulling a large bouquet of red roses from behind his back.
“Riki,” you began before he took your hand, interlacing your fingers around the flower stems.
“I wanna get a picture of you like this,” he smiled, counting down from three before snapping a quick picture, “Don’t worry, I won’t post it anywhere,” he said, noticing that you seemed a bit awkward.
You walked outside with his arm linked in yours, still holding the rose bouquet. You two made your way past the familiar shops that lined the city streets beyond your apartment, taking in the beautiful early morning scenery.
That’s when you two spotted a band of instrumentalists, harmonizing to a romantic tune. You looked up at Riki with playful eyes, communicating to him that you wanted to dance.
Knowing your boyfriend, he would happily oblige to any opportunity to dance, especially with the love of his life.
“May I,” he asked cornily, bowing before you.
“Yes, Riki, you may.”
He took the bouquet from your grasp, placing it on a nearby coffee table before tucking a rose behind your ear.
“And for you,” you smiled, placing one of the roses between his teeth.
He took your hand in his, pulling you close before guiding you across the floor along with the music, bracing your lower back.
Your hands sat at his shoulders before getting lost in his hair, staring into his piercing eyes as the heart-warming melody came to a sudden stop.
It was starting to rain.
The band busied themselves with packing up their instruments before fleeing the moist environment.
"Welp, that was fun while it lasted," Riki chimed, grabbing the bouquet before walking back in the direction of your apartment.
"Hey, I thought we were gonna spend the day out," you pouted confused.
"I know, but I had a picnic date planned in the park, which I doubt would be much fun in this weather."
He held the flowers over your two heads as a way to shield yourselves from the down pour.
"Sooo, what do we do, now?"
"Hmm," he hummed in thought, "we could always just run around the city and hope we don't get struck by lightening. Orrrrr, we could have a dance off in the rain! First one to slip loses."
"Riki!"
"What? That's better than me sulking over how a few grey clouds ruined our anniversary."
You looked at his face which fell from its original enthusiasm, trying to think of something to cheer him up.
You smacked the bouquet out of his hand, running ahead of him.
"Yah, ____! I paid good money for these!"
"Last one to the apartment's a rotten egg," you giggled, hardly getting far with your high heels against the rain.
Riki counted from five, giving you a few more seconds to get ahead before sprinting ahead of you, laughing as you pouted in defeat.
Fin.
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🌹 Special thanks to @microwvdstrawb3rri3s for requesting this piece! This was my first time writing an established relationship fic so I hope you guys enjoyed it!
🌹 Taglist (open) — @fanficfactoryfoxxx @ashgonedash @yourmomscuntis2tighy @kaykay11sworld @rickysblkgf @4imhry @yngwife @bambangan @microwvdstrawb3rri3s @nikipedia07 @naddii @beomgyusonlywife @rickysblkgf @nikiiitties @03sunoos
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sunflower-lilac42 · 2 months
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✧ 𝐍𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐄𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 | connor bedard ♔
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summary: after falling short of a hat trick once again, connor feels the need to blame everything on himself and question why he's here in the first place.
warnings: connor not thinking he's good enough, sad connor, feelings of not being good enough, crying, writing errors bc i didn't proofread that well
published: 3/25/24
notes: this is my monthly fic so i hope you enjoy it, jkjkjkjk I'll try to be as active as i can on here this next week especially with me being in a car for eight hours tomorrow. (woohoo) anyway story notes -> this takes place after the arizona game, i was going to make this longer with them after the ducks game but i got too lazy to write it, so let me know if you want a part two to this fic. there are four things hopefully coming this week that aren't fics and maybe two or so fics also on my agenda so yeah | add yourself to the taglist ➺ taglist!
nhl masterlist | main masterlist
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He knew he shouldn’t be upset. He played so well, got a three-point game tonight, but at the same time, this was his fourth time having a two-goal game and every time he came up short. It was hard to be the face of the franchise or to at least feel like it. He was supposed to be the savior of the Blackhawks, their golden boy, and lift them back up. How much pressure could you put on an 18-year-old?
He watched as Colin hit the puck into the empty net, the slightest bit of jealousy going through his eyes. He was telling himself not to think about it, the thought of him getting a hat trick shouldn’t have been a thought, he should be playing to win not to get his hat trick. But, the thought haunted him in the back of his mind, three failed attempts and he had to show everyone what he was capable of. 
Though, as the final minute ticked down and he had been on the ice he knew his chances were nonexistent. He knew he wouldn’t be getting an opportunity to get that goal. He was proud of Colin and always proud of his teammates, but how happy could he be for others if he wasn’t happy with himself?
She was watching from her dorm room, her hands gripped tightly onto the arms of her chair as she kept her eyes glued to the TV screen. She knew they had a chance of winning this game, they beat them 5-2 just a few days ago so why couldn’t they now? Despite the Coyotes having two goals a couple of minutes into the second period, she kept her hopes up. When Connor scored not only once but twice before the end of the period she was elated.
She kept her prayers in her mind as she watched the last 20 minutes of the game, hoping that he would get his first career hat trick alongside Colin. He needed this so much, especially after the few games he had had. He needed to be reminded of how good he was and how the outcome of the game shouldn’t be reliant on him. 
However, as soon as the clock ran out and it was game over, she felt horrible. She could see it in his face as he skated out as second star of the game. He deserved to and Colin deserved the first. But she knew he was taking it harder on himself. 
She was kept updated on post-game through post-game live and the tweets she was getting. Her heart broke once she saw the one Mario tweeted, “If I was any good I would have put it in.”
She swore to himself, immediately going to make him some food and laying out some clothes for him to wear when he arrived. He was using humor to cover up how he felt, it was a defense mechanism that he used so often with not only the public but with her. She couldn’t count the number of times they were in the middle of a fight or he had come home after a game or the days that he would come back after practice after he got hurt he would throw a sarcastic comment or start laughing. 
She sent him a quick text, telling him she would be waiting for him when he returned. She made sure things looked perfect in the sense that it didn’t look planned and everything was meticulously placed. The clothes she picked out were thrown in the bathroom and so was his towel, she made her dorm look a little more messy than she would like it but still clean.
When she heard the door unlock, she didn’t make a move from her room. She lived in one of the apartments with a couple of her friends. She didn’t complain when the older students took her in, just going with the flow. She heard footsteps come up the stairs and a quiet but prominent knock on her door and then the door clicked open. She looked up and smiled, placing her laptop to the side of her and getting up from the bed.
She walked over to him and opened her arms, allowing him to walk into them as he dropped his beg and let his head fall to her shoulder. She placed her left hand on the back of his head and her right hand wrapped around his torso. Her fingers scratched the base of his hair, slightly combing through his hair that he had grown out and the fingers on her right hand rubbed circles against his back. It was silent besides the soft sighs of Connor both from the long night and from the motions she was doing. 
He turned his head so his nose was now stuck in the crook of her neck before leaving small kisses there. She smiled a little as he did it, knowing that he was slowly going back to his usual ways. He pulled away soon after and rested his forehead on hers before she spoke, “You wanna go take a shower?”
He only nodded and made his way to the bathroom. She went back downstairs to finish up dinner, reheating a few things and then bringing them back up. She set the plates on her desk and crawled into her bed and tried to find something to watch that they would both like. She decided on A New Hope, it was the first thing that popped up when she went onto Disney, 
Connor came in around a couple minutes later and laid eyes on her as soon as he entered. This was one of his favorite things about coming to Chicago, was the fact that she came with him. The fact that her celebrating after winning still happened, the fact that she was comforting him after a loss still happened, the fact that she still gave him silly little gifts every once in a while still happened. It was the best feeling in the world.
He threw his clothes to the side, not particularly caring where they landed. He pulled himself up onto her bed and curled into her side, wrapping his arms around her waist and leaning his head into her shoulder. She smiled down at him, lifting her free arm to run her fingers through his hair. The motion made him close his eyes and sigh, becoming more and more tired.
“You gotta eat, baby.”
He only shook his head in response. He didn’t feel like eating nor did he think he deserved to have one of her meals after the performance he had tonight. Her smile turned into a frown and turned her attention to the TV as her hand slowly came to a halt, still tangled in his hair. When her actions stopped, Connor pulled away and looked up at her, “Are you okay?” 
Her eyes were dazed, “What? Yeah, why?”
“Because you became quiet all of a sudden.”
“I- you know how proud of you I am right?”
His eyebrows furrowed, “Where is this coming from, y/n/n?”
“I know you Connor, you always want to be the best. You always want to do everything you can. You always want to take the burden of not doing enough, take the burden of the loss.”
Connor looked ashamed, he wasn’t expecting this to happen tonight. He felt like he was being scolded by his mom at that moment. He looked up at her with his eyes but kept his head down. There was another beat of silence before y/n spoke again, “You’re eighteen. This franchise, this team, should not be putting this much pressure on you because everyone thinks you’re the next Wayne Gretzky. You should be allowed to be a kid, baby.”
He always knew how much he was grateful for y/n, she had been there with him through everything. But it was these moments that he was most grateful for, these moments that reminded him more than any others. The moments in which she made him feel like himself again, the ones where she reminded him that he was allowed to be a kid, that he doesn’t have to have all this pressure on him. 
Without saying anything, he buried his head back into her chest as he practically clinged onto her like she would disappear at any moment. This time he allowed his tears to fall and they dampened her, his shirt. Her fingers resumed their motion, running through his hair. She didn’t know what to say anymore and truthfully Connor didn’t want her to say anything. He just wanted to be held by her and listen to whatever she had put on in the background.
After a few minutes she pulled away to cusp his face in her hands, “Foods getting cold sweetheart. You gotta eat.”
As much as he didn’t want to, he reluctantly nodded and allowed her to get up to reheat the food that had gone cold. When she came back Connor looked more like himself, he was sitting up right on the bed, his clothes were straightened out, his hair was flattened, and his face and eyes were rid of any evidence of tiredness and previous crying that he had done. 
She gave him a soft smile before placing the plate in his lap and plopping herself down on the bed, “What do you want to watch?”
“I don’t care.”
She glared at him playfully, “Dude, I can never pick a movie you know this.”
“Do not call me dude.”
She could tell that her efforts of making Connor feel better were working, the smile that she loved ever so dearly was on his face and his eyes were lit up in the way that they did when he talked about hockey. She stretched her arm out and poked his stomach, “And why is that?”
“Because I am your boyfriend and you always call me baby or sweetheart.”
“Someone’s picky.” She turned away to face the tv and continued to look for something to watch.” 
Connor discarded his plate onto her desk and pulled her into his lap, his arms wrapping around her waist. She let out a loud laugh and looked at him, “I love you.”
Connor smiled and kissed her forehead and then her lips. “I love you too. Thank you for being here.”
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𝑪𝑯𝑰𝑪𝑨𝑮𝑶 𝑩𝑳𝑨𝑪𝑲𝑯𝑨𝑾𝑲𝑺 𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻 ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
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redtsundere-writes · 2 months
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Jinx | Sukuna Ryomen
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mma fighter!sukuna ryomen x femalecoach!reader
Part 7. Help Me To Help You
Beginning. ← Previous | Next →
Spynosis: Sukuna is a world champion with anger issues. It's believed by many that he is untrainable. Yeah, you can't train him, but you can dominate him. Contents: Fighting. Sukuna being Sukuna. female reader being dom. Jinx AU (the BL, not the character from lol) Reader is a baddie. Warnings: MDNI. +18. Cursed words. I only read it once, lmao. Smut. Raw sex. Vaginal. Oral. Humiliation. Reader is dom. Sukuna is sub. Word count: 4149 words. A/N: We are finally in the middle of this story. Thanks for all the support and the comments! Hope you like this chapter.
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Less than 48 hours left until fight night. This time, the championship night would take place in Tokyo, it was always good to fight at home so we didn’t have to worry about traveling and having jet lag. Sukuna and Naoya had gone through the judges and referees for the official weigh-in at the official UFC facility. Luckily, Naoya threw me some flirtatious glances and didn't say a word to me during the brief encounter. If Sukuna found out that I betted my position as a coach, he would kill me without hesitation. 
The band was moving under my feet. I couldn’t give up. The outcome of this fight rested on my attitude to the circumstances. My arms swayed with every step I took. I had to secure Sukuna's luck no matter what. I was losing my breath due to fatigue. Sukuna won the last fight against Toji Fushiguro thanks to me. My feet were moving on their own. Should I fuck him again? 
“Hey!” Sukuna shouted in my ear, waking me up from my thoughts. 
My feet stopped dead in their tracks on the treadmill, causing me to lose my balance and stumble. The band pushed me off the platform, sending me rolling to the ground. My head was spinning, so I lay down on the ground to recover. It's a lousy idea to get up suddenly after a serious fall, that's how you pass out. 
“What the fuck is wrong with you today? You're acting weird lately,” Sukuna asked me, annoyed. 
“Shut up,” I mumbled with a frown. 
“Are you worried about the fight tomorrow?” he asked, irritated.
“Of course I'm worried! If you don't win tomorrow, I'll have to go back to the Zenins!”, I thought, but I couldn't tell him that. I had gotten myself into this mess on my own, I was willing to get out of it alone and teach that jerk Naoya Zenin a lesson. 
“A little, but it will be all right. I trust your good luck ritual will work, by the way, do you have someone to fuck already?” I asked, trying not to sound too obvious. 
“Keep your fucking voice down!” Sukuna scolded me between whispers, kneeling down next to me to look me in the face. “Only Yuuji should know, but he opened his mouth and now you and Gojo know,” he whispered, after making sure no one around us was paying attention.
“Megumi knows about it too.” 
“That nosy little shit,” he grumbled.
I didn't think he was embarrassed by his lucky ritual. Yes, it was unconventional, but I didn't know it was a big open secret. Usually male athletes are not embarrassed about fucking multiple women, they even flex about it by bringing a different woman to their matches. I thought Sukuna would be like them, I was surprised he wasn’t. 
“Get up now, you look stupid,” He said as he offered his hand to help me.
“Good thing I caught you resting, Sukuna,” Nanami announced his presence as he approached us. “Hey, weren't you supposed to leave 10 minutes ago?” he asked me directly. I looked at my watch, it was 2:10 pm. I had to leave soon if I wanted to get to my appointment on time. 
“That's right! Thanks for reminding me,” I thanked Nanami before rushing to the lockers to change. 
“Where the hell do you think you’re going? Tomorrow is the fight night!” Sukuna shouted angrily as he grabbed my arm to stop me from running away. 
“It’s going to help you win! I promise!” I exclaimed to get him to let me go. 
“Are you going to let her go just like that?” Sukuna asked Nanami as if he was my dad. 
“She asked to leave early a month ago, she told me it was important. It's in her rights,” Nanami explained calmly. 
I abruptly let go of Sukuna, and he grumbled in contempt. He knew Nanami was right. If he didn't let me leave, I could file a complaint against him with HR. I assured him he would thank me later, and he just death glared me. That was so him. 
At the lockers, I took off my stinky clothes from training sweat. I opened my gym bag and took out the denim skirt I had packed. The last time I wore a denim mini skirt was on my first date with Naoya, a special event. “I can't believe I'm going to wear this again,” I thought as I saw how short it was, it barely covered my butt. I had to wear it, this would be a special day too. 
2 hours on a train ride later, I arrived at my not so exciting destination, The Golden Pot, a Chinese restaurant on the outskirts of Kyoto, known for having the best wonton soup in town. I never thought I would return to this place. It brought back bittersweet memories of my relationship with Naoya, as I had the best dates of my life with him here. It was amazing how the person I once grew to love more than myself became my #1 enemy. 
Naoya has a less troublesome luck ritual than Sukuna. Before every fight, he must eat a bowl of wonton soup to secure his stomach and his victory. He always did this in the evenings after the official weigh-in. When he travels out of the country, he usually eats it before taking the plane. Since he was fighting in Tokyo, I knew he would be at the restaurant. I zipped up my Team Black jacket and walked confidently into the place. 
I spotted him at the table where he always used to sit. A table in a booth with red cushions and an intimate atmosphere. He was alone and undercover as if he were a spy, wearing a leather jacket and sunglasses despite being indoors. I really didn't want to approach him, but I had to be brave. I had traveled all the way from Tokyo to confront him and put him out of his comfort zone, I couldn't afford to chicken out now. 
“Is it good?” I greeted him reluctantly. Naoya looked up from his bowl and took off his glasses to make sure his mind wasn't playing tricks on him. Taking his time to run down my bare legs, getting used to the idea that I was standing before him. 
“Well, well… What brings you all the way to Kyoto?” He asked me with a smile. 
“Since you came to visit me at the gym and my house, I thought it would be nice to visit you at your favorite place,” I replied as I sat down across from him.
“You are so cute,” he commented before eating a wonton. 
A waitress came to our table quickly to take my order. She tried giving me a menu, but I already knew what I was going to order. 
“I'm not going to stay long, I'll just have a wonton soup to go and an iced tea for here,” I asked. 
“Are you in a hurry?” Naoya asked me disappointed, once the waitress left. 
“A little, I have to go back to Tokyo early to continue training Sukuna,” I answered. 
“Do you care about him?” He asked me seriously. 
“Of course I do, it's my job.”
“No, I mean, do you really care about him?” He corrected the question.  
I frowned in response. It was true that Sukuna was on my mind 80% of the day, but that's because he is my job. I have to make sure he eats right, does the exercises correctly and is in his best mental state before every fight. I have seen him progress in the last four months that I have been training him, and I was proud of my work, but where was I going with that kind of question? Naoya sighed when he didn't get an answer. 
“Do you like him?” he asked confident that he knew the answer already. 
“No,” I answered coldly, before he makes up weird ideas on his head. 
I couldn't imagine jumping from one idiot to another. Sukuna could be an amazing athlete, an extremely attractive man and a good protector, but he was still a traitor, a rude champion and someone who uses women to his advantage. We had grown up together these past few months, but I was not to be confused, he was still Sukuna Ryomen. 
“This brings back so many memories. This is where we had our first kiss. We were so young and immature,”. Naoya sighed as he imagined the scene.
“We are still young and immature, especially you. You still cling to the past and want to pull me with you,” I mumbled. 
“What's wrong with wanting to take back what's mine?” he wondered, annoyed that I had broken his illusion. 
“That I am not your property nor Zenin’s,” I answered. 
“We'll see about that tomorrow,” Naoya self-assured. 
The waitress arrived with my order carefully wrapped in a plastic bag and the tea in the typical yellowish plastic cup of this kind of restaurant. I smiled as I saw the full glass in front of me, “This is what I came for,” I thought as I took a sip. 
“You're right, let’s not to argue now,” I thought out loud as I got up from my seat, ready to leave. “We'll see about that tomorrow,” I said with a confident smile. 
I poured the iced tea over Naoya's half-eaten wonton soup. His eyes widened at the reckless act I was pulling. I was ruining his good luck ritual before his eyes. I slammed the glass down on the table in front of him to grab his attention back. 
“You'd better keep your part of the bet,” I threatened him in a low voice so that he was the only one listening to me. 
“I hope you too, cutie,” he glared at me, this time he had stopped smiling to restrain himself from hitting a woman in a public place. 
I left the place with my food and sighed relieved that the conversation had not escalated any further. I checked the time. It was almost 6pm, I had to get to the train station if I wanted to make it to the next part of my plan on time. 
SUKUNA POV 
A sharp pain invaded my neck as I moved my shoulder again. A grunt of pain escaped from my lips as I moved it in circles as Shoko recommended. The hot water from the shower helped dull the pain. I should be embarrassed. I couldn't let such a superficial injury stop me. I had to give my 110% in tomorrow's fight as always. My honor and my title were on the line again. I shouldn't be worried though, no one knows that my shoulder is injured, and I have y/n, who has been teaching me all of Naoya's moves. My chances of winning were still pretty high. 
I let the hot water run over my body some more. I didn't want to get out of the shower, but I had to get ready to greet the prostitute I had hired in advance for tonight's ritual. I wrapped myself in my shower robe and went on to dry my hair, so I would have it ready for tomorrow. I was in my best possible shape, but aesthetics are also important for sponsors. 
The doorbell echoed through the penthouse, letting me know that someone was waiting at the door. I frowned at the time. It was barely 8 o'clock, the hooker was arriving at 9. "Who the fuck is it this late?", I asked myself annoyed. I walked over to the door to see who it was. 
It was a rather pleasant surprise to see y/n through the peephole. She was waiting patiently outside the door with a plastic bag in her hands. I was going to open the door, but I saw her take off the black gym jacket. My cheeks flushed slightly at the sight of her in something other than workout clothes. She was wearing the shortest denim skirt I had ever seen in my life and a pink shirt that allowed me to see her cleavage thanks to the height difference. I had seen her wear things that revealed her stunning body, but this was the first time I had seen something that made her look like a girl and not like someone who can kick my ass. 
She started to lose her patience. She rang the doorbell again, bringing me back to reality. I was a weak man if just looking at her made me blush. “Fuck,” I thought, annoyed with myself, before opening the door. 
“What the fuck are you doing here?” I scolded her. “Who the fuck gave you my address?” 
“What a nice way to greet your coach,” she joked, sarcastically. “Nanami gave me your address. I came all the way from Kyoto to bring you a good luck wonton soup,” she explained as she handed me the plastic bag.
As soon as she moved his jacket from one arm to the other, I noticed something about her outfit that I hadn't seen through the peephole before. It was a detail I shouldn't have minded in the least, but my eyes hyper-fixated on it anyway. The pink rim of her thong protruded above her skirt, gently draped over her hip. The fact that I even noticed it surprised me. I'd seen that on thousands of models at parties, why did it matter to me so much in y/n? Had she done it on purpose? It was hard to tell, since I only know her in working hours. This was the first time we had met outside the work environment. 
“Are you going to let me in?” she wondered. 
“Did you really go all the way to Kyoto to bring me a measly wonton soup?” I asked as I inspected the contents. Y/n slapped my arm at the rejection of her gift. 
“It's the best soup in the world!” she scolded me, offended. “Also, I went to ruin Naoya's lucky ritual,” she confessed, embarrassed. 
“Are you fucking stupid!? That's why you left training early?!” I yelled in annoyance. 
“Hey! You should be thankful that I'm taking every precaution to ensure my victory!” she finished off by raising her voice to reach my volume. She always has a stupid answer for everything. 
“Your victory…” I tasted the phrase in my mouth. “Are you only doing this just for yourself?”
“My victory is that you remain as the champion,” she clarified. 
“Well, you did what you had to do,” I told her, ready to close the door. 
“You didn't answer the question I asked you earlier,” she reminded me, it was as if she didn't want the conversation to end. 
“What are you talking about?” As soon as I blurted out the question, she blushed and avoided my gaze. 
“Do you already have someone for your lucky ritual?” She asked, still avoiding my gaze. 
“Yes, she's coming in an hour. You can go home now,” I said, tired of explaining myself to her. I tried to close the door, but she pulled her body into the penthouse to avoid it. 
“Are you sure she will satisfy you?” She asked me, almost desperate. 
“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” I yelled, opening the door again. “You've been so weird since we made the strategy! Is there something you want to tell me?”
“I just want to make sure that your ritual goes well...” she whispered in embarrassment. That sounded like a damn lie. 
“Y/n!” I scolded her. She was startled by the scream and then sighed in surrender. 
She told me all about her history with Naoya in a low voice. From how they met to how he continues to stalk her to this day. She told me how she came to his house out of nowhere and betted on her freedom to get rid of him once and for all. “Are you such a dumb bitch! How could you even think of doing that!”, are things I wanted to scream at her until her ears bled from her stupidity, but I couldn't do it seeing her so emotionally drained. No wonder she was so desperate, this was the only way she has to be able to get rid of him. What a mess she was in. 
“Help me out, Sukuna,” Her eyes begged me for mercy, I couldn't say “no” to that. 
“Come in, it better be as good as in Dubai,” I threatened her as soon as I let her in. 
“I will do my best,” she promised. 
Despite being shorter than me by a head and looking so tender in that outfit that left almost nothing to the imagination, this little shit pushed me against the bed with all her might. In my own house! She had already seen me naked and knew how I behaved during sex. So it was easy for her to undo the knot of my shower gown and unwrap me as if I were her birthday gift to find my hard cock. She didn't hesitate to take it all the way into her mouth. Each suck and lick felt desperate. I knew I wanted to make her come, so she could secure tomorrow's victory, but sometimes the idea that she was really desperate to have my cock inside her for simple pleasure tickled my brain. 
“You really want to impress me, don't you?” I asked her as I took off my robe completely. 
I pushed her towards my crotch, hugging her by the shoulders with my leg to show her how flexible I had become since she had taught me floor techniques. The splashes coming from her wet lips, her eyes watering from having my monstrosity in her little mouth and her hands holding my thighs to keep my balance were a sublime image. I could come just seeing her in that state. 
I pulled her to me with one tug to do what I had wanted to do to her since I saw her through the peephole. I ripped off her thin pink shirt to reveal the pink lace bra that matched her thong. “She came prepared,” I thought with a satisfied smile. I usually like to remove the bra because it gets in the way, but I decided to leave this one on because it was cute. The little flowers looked so pretty over her beautiful breasts. I yanked down her skirt and reached into her slutty cave. She clung to my body as she moaned my name as praise. My fingertips rubbed her sensitive clit as they bathed in the natural lube. Y/n struggled against her own body to maintain her composure.
She took possession of my body as soon as she climbed into my lap. I thought the fun was finally going to begin, but she decided to keep playing with my senses. She took possession of my cock to rub the tip against her clit in slow circles. I bit my lower lip to keep from moaning like a bitch in heat. 
“Don't be shy, I want to hear you,” she asked before gently twisting my nipple. 
My eyes popped open as I felt his fingers against my sensitive spots. I think it's the first time I've ever been touched like that. She smiled as she realized the same thing I did. She approached me slowly to kiss my nipples gently. We had only slept together once, and she already knew my body better than I did. Oh Naoya, was this what he missed because of his stupid shit? Poor bastard. She flicked her tongue and gently sucked on my erect nipples from the cold of the night. I closed my eyes to enjoy the tickling that ran mercilessly through my body as I moaned for her.
“How cute. Your cheeks match your hair and my underwear,” she whispered in my ear as she saw the blush that covered my face. 
She shoved my cock in her all at once, bringing back memories of Dubai. This time, my back was no longer suffering from being pushed against a small wooden table. She rode my cock like a pro, making sure the tip had the biggest impact point. Her breasts bounced in my face, her moans were music to my ears and her hips were moving to the beat of a forbidden song. I wrapped my arms around her waist to hold her close to me and made sure my cock went all the way in to her cervix. 
She kissed me passionately without ceasing to impact her hips against me. It was wild, rushed, and powerful. She pressed my body against hers like a snake mercilessly choking its prey. I had no intention of fighting her, I could die in between her thighs and I would be so fucking happy.
I wasn't going to last any longer if we kept going like this. My mind kept repeating the national anthem to last longer in heaven, but it wasn't working. Y/n knew what she was doing, and she was doing a great fucking job. My cock was high and wet in her pussy, I wanted more, I needed more of her. My hips were moving on automatic to penetrate her fully. Her tits bouncing in my face was the best sight I have ever witnessed in my life. Y/n felt so tight and delicious, I was about to explode. Before I could help it, I came in her. My cock was slowly pumping her full. 
“Are you done?” She smirked. 
“Shut up,” I sighed tiredly. She pulled away from me to go to the bathroom to clean herself. I grabbed her arm and pulled her back to the bed. “I'm not done with you yet.” 
”Huh?” She asked, confused. 
“I may be satisfied, but you're not,” I told her before spreading her legs apart.
I wasn't used to eating pussy from hookers, they just made me cum and left, but seeing my coach's face all flushed and surprised made my night. She really didn't expect me to go deep into her body to finish what I had started. I dipped my head into her crotch to part her lips with my tongue. She stifled a moan and closed her legs at the tickle that ran down her back. She pressed her thighs against my face, drowning me in her delicious pussy. Y/n arched her back to bring her clit closer to my nose and thrust my tongue deeper inside her. 
It was sour and sweet at the same time, I didn’t like the taste much, but I was a fan of the texture. I looked like a fucking junkie once I got used to the slimy sensation on my tongue. She pulled me by the hair to suck on her clit. I opened my mouth wide to eat the food God blessed me tonight. Y/n looked like a hot mess and I loved it. She moaned, writhed and called my name with lust. 
“Just like that!” she moaned as she pushed my face, a sign that I was doing a good job. 
I kept doing exactly what she asked until she squirted on my face. I jerked away confused as to what had happened. I wiped my face to see Y/n lying there like a happy starfish, arms, and legs spread across the bed tired. 
“Good job,” She moaned in satisfaction. 
I was going to answer her, but the doorbell grabbed my attention. It must be the prostitute. I wrapped my robe around me again and grabbed my wallet from the nightstand. I didn't want to waste time with her, I wanted to go to sleep soon so I could be well rested for the fight. I opened the door to find a blonde girl who reminded me of a bitch I know. 
“Hi, handsome. It's nice to meet you, I always see you on the sports channel and…” 
“Look, thanks for coming, but lets canceled. Someone already emptied my balls, take 100 dollars and leave,” I said, throwing the bill at her and slamming the door in his face. 
I went back to the room only to find y/n completely asleep under the covers. She looked exhausted, I shouldn't wake her up. I sat next to her on the bed and sighed tiredly. My horniness was decreasing, and I questioned whether I should let her sleep or ask her to go home. I looked at her again. She looked very comfortable and content tucked into me in the wet covers from our fluids. 
“Looks like I'll be sleeping in the guest room,” I thought out loud
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thankskenpenders · 10 months
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Sonic Prime: "Season 2"
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Eight more episodes of Sonic Prime are out! They're labeled as "season 2" despite just being the next eight episodes of the first (and presumably only) season, allowing Netflix to market it as multiple seasons without having to give the cast and crew raises. They love doing that shit to their original cartoons. Ugh.
Anyway! Last time, I gave the show some leeway because it was still finding its legs. This time, though? We're now two thirds of the way through the series, and sadly, I think it's time to accept the truth:
While there are parts I like, a lot of this show... kinda sucks?
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This multiverse sucks and Rouge was robbed
Previously, I noted the pattern of each universe spotlighting a different friend of Sonic's (Tails in New Yolk City, Amy in the jungle world, Knuckles in the pirate world) and predicted that, hopefully, Rouge would get her time to shine next. And with 16 episodes left, surely there's time to explore new worlds that are more interesting than the jungle and pirate worlds. Those were just the warm up act. Right?
...Right?
Nope! That's it! There are no more worlds.
This multiverse show where anything is possible really is just about another Eggman-controlled dystopia world, a jungle world, and a pirate world. That's all they came up with! Just those three, and two dead worlds that don't really count - one a featureless wasteland, the other a ghostly echo of the original Green Hill dubbed "Ghost Hill." (Sonic's friends appear here as holograms stuck repeating a single line each. It gets old immediately.)
The jungle and pirate worlds and their inhabitants being so overwhelmingly generic becomes unforgivable the moment you realize this is all we're gonna get. It just leaves me wishing they'd thrown this whole concept out and finally made a normal Sonic cartoon with no twist in its premise. A few of the new takes here are good, particularly Nine as a darker riff on Tails, but so many of them don't feel anything like the fun characters they're supposed to be. They're stock cartoon characters wearing the Sonic casts' skins.
I'll admit my bias is showing, but god, Rouge is REALLY done dirty by this setup. The normal Rouge we see in the first episode is so fun for how briefly she appears, but then in all the other worlds she's reduced to a generic action girl with zero personality. What's her purpose, exactly, when every AU version of Amy is ALSO a straightforward action girl? It drives me absolutely insane that they gave us a PIRATE ROUGE and she doesn't care about treasure. They do nothing with this! How!!!!!!!! She's just never gonna get her turn. It's so obvious that Rouge is only in this show so that they can have another girl, but you could swap her out with another character like Blaze and it'd make no difference.
Speaking of the pirates, though...
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The way things play out in the pirate world is so stupid
Previously, with the Paradox Prism shard within reach, Captain Dread Knux was regressing into his old obsessive personality. I'm fine with this. Sonic and Dread both want the shard, they're gonna fight over it. Obvious stuff. But the actual impact it has on the story is maybe the stupidest bit of writing in this entire show so far.
Basically, while fighting a couple of the Eggmen and their robots at sea, Sonic has to briefly run over to the enemy ship to fight them and grab the Paradox Prism shard while Dread and his crew remain back on their ship. Dread goes "Oh my god, look! Sonic's abandoning us! Traitor!" While Sonic is... like 200 feet away. Still in clear view. Fighting the guys who are trying to kill them. Retrieving Dread's beloved treasure for him.
And yet, Dread's crew buys this! And when Sonic runs right back over with the shard in hand, they're all like "HOW DARE YOU BETRAY US" and turn on him.
It's just. What?!
This isn't a huge part of the "season," but I highlight it as maybe the worst moment of the show's character writing. I'm reminded of Thorn Rose's backstory from last time, where she was depicted as suddenly snapping one day when she saw her friends pick one too many berries in the jungle. Sometimes a character just needs to pivot for the story to work, and they aren't really interested in getting there smoothly.
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The Chaos Council fucking sucks
I tried so hard to like these guys, but they drag the show down so much.
The choice to have a team of five different Eggmen really just means that Eggman has been split into five one-note characters. Four of them revolve entirely around the most trite, predictable, boomer-ass jokes based on their ages. The teenage one is whiny and just wants to play video games. The young adult one is a vegan hipster who does yoga. The old one is cranky about all the whippersnappers and has a bad back. The baby is a baby. These are jokes that would've been tired if this show aired 20 years ago.
The odd man out is Mister Doctor Eggman, the middle-aged one with a toupee who's the stand-in for regular Eggman. But even he kinda sucks. The other four all being one-note joke characters means that he has to be the straight man of the group, so he's just very dry and serious and plot-focused without any of Eggman's fun eccentricities. He's neither particularly funny nor particularly sinister, which is just about the worst place for an Eggman to be.
He doesn't even have any incompetent robot lackeys to bounce off of, because the unfunny alternate age Eggmen fill the quota for bumbling secondary villains. But also, like... Orbot and Cubot are in this show! They were in the first episode! Where are they? God, I never thought I'd miss them so much...
But, okay. It's not ALL bad.
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The highlights
There's a recurring theme here, which is that the best episodes are the ones where Sonic is pitted against a foe who can match his speed and they just let the animation carry it.
The first of the new episodes is mostly about Sonic fighting Shadow, and BOY is their fight fun to watch. Said fight happens because Shadow blames Sonic for shattering the universe and doesn't trust him to fix things. Shadow wants to restore their world, but he refuses to see the various AU counterparts as the same people Sonic once knew, and he doesn't really care what happens to them. Ultimately, though, he begrudgingly accepts that Sonic really is the only one who can hop between dimensions for Plot Reasons, and therefore lets him go try to do things the nice way. He sadly spends most of his time waiting around in the void between worlds, but in the last episode of the batch he and Sonic get to team up against the Chaos Council's forces and it's very cool.
As far as recent interpretations of Shadow go, this is a good one. He's a great foil for Sonic, which just makes me wish he could travel with Sonic to the different worlds. He's cynical and overly pragmatic in his approach, but his points aren't entirely wrong. His anger feels justified. They even let him have some snark! And Ian Hanlin is really great in the role - definitely a contender for Shadow's best voice ever. He just sounds so natural.
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The other speedster Sonic fights is Chaos Sonic, the Chaos Council's take on Metal.
He can talk! Deven is basically doing a Jaleel impersonation for him? People are very mixed on this.
The idea behind Chaos Sonic is to turn Sonic's obnoxious smack talk and zingers back around on him, and I don't hate this idea, even if a lot of fans find him annoying compared to Metal Sonic. (Some comparisons have been made to Archie's Shard, but I assume this is a coincidence.) Like the rest of the script, his dialogue certainly isn't anything to write home about, but the fights he gets into with Sonic and co. are so damn fun and dynamic that I have to like him. I also like how expressive his eyes are on his dome screen face, and the animators have a ton of fun with the fact that his torso and head can rotate 360 degrees.
Unfortunately, he's destroyed at the end of his debut episode. I'm praying he gets rebuilt, because this show desperately needs better villains than the Chaos Council.
Again, the animation in Prime is maybe the best animation in any official Sonic media, period. I just wished I liked the characters and worlds enough to be invested in more of the fights. It's hard to care about the dozenth group battle against the generic Eggforcer bots and the baby in his Fisher-Price mech.
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The note we end on
After fighting a giant glowing replica of the normal Eggman for... some reason? Episode 16 ends with Sonic and Nine getting into an argument over what to do with the Paradox Prism shards. Sonic wants to restore his original world, but Nine still wants to create a new, better world out of the one that's just an empty wasteland, believing he doesn't belong anywhere else. Nine angrily runs off with the shards, and Sonic is distraught as he realizes that Shadow was seemingly right about how he shouldn't trust Nine.
I kind of like this conflict, mostly because Nine is the standout character of this show. But my main problem is that we don't know what will happen when everything is fixed.
The logical assumption is that the alternate worlds will just... stop existing, right? That must be the idea if Sonic and Nine are treating restoring the original world and creating a new one in the Shatterverse as mutually exclusive options, right? If the Shatterverse disappears, will Nine and the rest all stop existing, too? The show seems unwilling to discuss this possibility, so I'm left not really knowing what the stakes are in this conflict. Nine becomes a whole lot more sympathetic and Sonic becomes a whole lot more monstrous if restoring the world will erase most of this show's cast from existence, but the thought that this could even happen doesn't seem to have crossed Sonic's mind. Sonic seems to want to take his AU friends back to the regular Green Hill - he at least wants to introduce Nine to his normal friends - but like... he can't really do that, can he? They're not gonna have four Tailses running around.
I don't really know what direction this is all headed in. I guess we just have to keep watching, even if I'm past the point of accepting that this show is mostly very mid.
It's just frustrating that everyone else working on this show is clearly giving it their all while the writers at Man of Action phone it in for so much of its runtime. The scripts drag this show down so, so hard. There are moments and episodes I like, but you have to slog through so much mediocrity to get there.
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demonmarker · 2 months
Text
Beautiful with you Ch.3
So I'm going to have to post this in two parts cause apparently there's a character limit for each post so I'll link the second part under the fic. Thank you everyone for the likes and reblogs I love how much you guys are liking this story. Hope you enjoy
Trigger warnings: Mention of death, scars and lots of smut
Ch.1 Ch.2
You let out an exhausted sigh as you open the door for Nina, Regina and tail-wagging Alexander. Nina walks in, holding gently onto Alexander’s collar; she wasn’t too much taller than him so when she was down or exhausted he would aid her in just getting to her destination. You hold out your arm gesturing for Regina to go first, “Such a gentleman,” smiling that smile that only Regina George can. “With what you date, it’s not hard”….And the smile was gone from her face and now on yours as she glared at you. Your home was just that, a home, it wasn’t fancy or that big but you put pride in making it a safe, loving environment for Nina to grow up in. While most of the students at North Shore had their TikTok feeds show them the latest music and popular trends, yours was full of storage DIY tips and tricks, mum hacks for keeping the little ones happy, and the occasional sketchbook tour from artists with styles you like. “Well this is… cosy” Regina commented standing in the middle of the lounge room which opened up into the kitchen. You hook Nina’s bag up on the back of the front door, looking Regina’s way “Expecting a mansion like your own?” you walk past her to Nina. You could practically feel the mocking face she was making behind your back as you were bending down to Nina, and Nina’s precious giggles while looking behind you confirmed it, you rolled your eyes but kept a closed smile on your face so Nina knew you guys were joking… kind of. “How about you go put on your comfy clothes Princess and I’ll make you a snack?” As an answer Nina takes off running, one arm up in the air like a flying superhero while just announcing “FOOD!” in what you could only call her food goblin voice. “And let Alexander outside for a potty break please,” from down the hall you hear “Urgh fine,” in a tone like you were asking the world of her. You stand back up to your full height and give Regina a dirty look, “She’s known you for barely more than an hour and I’m already getting attitude.” Regina scrunched up her nose with a proud smile, “We have a bond.” Trying to rub it in your face. All you could do was shake your head and start making snacks.
Three episodes of Bluey and a PB&J later and little Nina was sound asleep on Regina’s lap. Regina motioned to the TV with an open palm, while you gathered the small unconscious body into your arms, “This show is just downright amazing! Bingo is so cute she reminds me so much of me” spoken proudly by the blond. You scoff, “Oh please, you are Muffin through-and-through. Spoilt and cranky.” You acted like you didn’t take notice of Regina’s dropped jaw, but inside you were pissing yourself laughing. You tuck a still comatose Nina into her bed and ever so gently brush the hair from her closed eyes, leaning down to lightly kiss her forehead, Alexander splayed out down at the end of the little one’s bed like he does every day and night. You pat his head which he nuzzles into “Come get me when she wakes up, okay Bud?” Turning to leave you see Regina leaning against the doorframe witnessing the whole thing, she didn’t say anything as she moved out of the way as you slowly close Nina’s door, leaving it slightly ajar. You both walk back out into the kitchen in silence, you do as to not wake Nina, Regina however because of the question she wanted to ask. You start tidying up the small mess left from the snack eating when Regina spoke up, “Hey, can I ask you something?”
You knew what it was going to be. Letting out a large sigh you signal Regina to follow you. In for a penny, in for pound they say, and Regina was in for a heavy load. You lead her into your room and close the door behind you, there wasn’t a large chance of Nina waking but you can’t take any risks with this, she’s been through enough. You motion for Regina to take a seat on your Queen-sized bed, which she does and you sit next to her, taking and releasing one last large breath you let Regina in on everything. “We don’t have parents. Well at least not anymore.” You reach under the bed and pull out a large cardboard box and hand it to Regina who slowly opens it. She pulls out a yellowed newspaper dated back over three years ago, the main story, ‘Drunk driver crashes into family of 4 - kills 2 critically injured 1’, Regina’s hand covers her mouth in devastation while looking over the large picture of what was your family’s car turned into a scrap heap, crumpled into half its normal size. “I can’t remember the accident, I can’t remember the year leading up to it either.” Regina turns over the page and whimpers and her eyes land on a picture of a younger you with a purposefully blurred-out large piece of shrapnel sticking out of your right rib, little Nina can be seen screaming with a bloodied up head. Regina’s eyes scrunched as she saw the position you were pinned in, her head turning this way and that, trying to make sense of it, her face going pale, expression dropping as it clicked. “You shielded Nina.” She whispered looking at you, but you couldn’t do the same as the tears started falling silently from your eyes, you stare up at the ceiling trying to blink them away.
“I-.” your voice gets caught in your throat “I get flashes of the lights coming towards my side of the car, I still can hear my Mum’s scream before the impact but that’s it. That’s all I can remember.” You let out a sob you were trying so hard to hold back “I can’t remember being told I had a little sister for the first time, it’s just gone.” Regina sets aside the newspaper and gets down on her knees in front of you “May I?” her eyes go to the affected rib. With a sniffle, you nod silently, not able to meet her eyes. She reaches for the hem of your black long sleeve and slowly pushes it up, you help her by just taking the whole shirt off in the end. Her eyes went wide with shock as she sees the scarred flesh take up half of your toned stomach and stretch all the way round to the other side of your back. Without thinking Regina leans in, kissing all around the old wound, a soft moan leaving your lips as your hand instinctively tangles into her long blond hair, whispering her name. When she hears her name on your lips she lifted her head from your midsection to push hers against yours, her lips so soft against your own you subconsciously hoped that you’d be able to spend the rest of your life kissing these lips. The kissing was heating up and you found yourself reaching to lift Regina on top of your lap straddling you. You both continue to kiss once more, Regina starting to slowly grind herself on your thighs, reaching up to release your long dark hair from the hairband that held it up, twirling your long strands around her fingers, tugging your head back to expose your neck for her to feast on with her lips, licking from your collar bone all the way up to your jaw line, releasing a moan from your throat Regina pulls back “You know the colour system right?”, It took you a little bit to register what she was talking about since you were out of it from the arousal she stirred up inside you, but you eventually nodded “Of course,” “Good” Without warning you were pushed back onto the bed, Regina moving off you to start unbuttoning your jeans “Colour?”
Pt2
@dark-hunter16 @natashamaximoff-69
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xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 4 months
Note
ma’am, could we pretty please have some more gaslamp!au? 🥺🥺
"Wildflower," Jason said smirking, jumping over the railing, "don't tell me you're ready for bed?"
"Jason what-"
"Marry me?" he said pulling the ring out of his pocket and kneeling. His heart in his throat, "Run away with me. Tonight. We can be in New York before the morning-"
Lips collide with his and there's a soft warm body in his arms. Reflexively he pulls you closer and strokes your hair. He'd like to leave you breathless and reeling. To show you what's waiting for you- kisses that tempt. That promise. But when he can taste tears- it reminds him that he's still got to be gentle. He can teach you how to play those kinds of games later.
"Yes," you tell him, "But-"
"But nothing," he rumbled, claiming one of your left hand to press a kiss against your palm before siding the ring onto your finger. Relieved that the fit is perfect. "Whatever happened to you-" he broke off and shook his head, "it didn't change my feelings for you. I thought I lost you. And when I found you- Alive- and that man was dead my only regret was that you had to be the one to do it." He wiped the tears off your cheeks with his thumbs and kissed your forehead. "But. I won't lose any sleep over what you did. And no- even if you weren't still a virgin, it wouldn't have changed anything."
"That's just all I had left to offer and I just-"
Jason kissed you quiet quickly and smiled a little, "A razor wit, medical knowledge, and the ability to appreciate the beauty of literature is infinitely more important," he said. "And that's just a short list of things that are more important to me than your virginity."
He can feel you heating with embarrassment and he snuggled you closer. "We'll wake up the whole house if we don't leave soon," he murmured. You wouldn't. Half of them were in Bruce's study waiting and holding their breath he'd swear to it. The other half were keeping watch out a window or from a rooftop to see the lamps on the carriage race down the drive. Champagne would be had. And, if he knew Stephanie and Dick, bets would be made about the birthdate of your first child.
"How will we get out I mean- I can't climb down in a dress."
Jason grinned, "What kind of prince charming would I be if I didn't rescue my princess from her tower?" he teased.
"I'm not exactly a captive in rags," you snort, "Everyone's been very sweet-"
"Just put your arms around my neck and hold on," he chuckled. "Mind, don't look down-"
"It's four stories!"
"And I've been sneaking out the 5th since I was 10," he said grinning, "Just hold on. And please don't slap me. Or faint."
"I don't want to spend my wedding night with a broken neck," you squeak.
"Don't tell me my fearless, tree-climbing, horse-riding wildflower is afraid I'll drop her," he taunted, chucking you under the chin.
"I'm heavy," you remind.
"Hardly," Jason snorted. That he'd address later. He'd write sonnets about your breasts, hips, and belly. Spend hours lavishing kisses on every inch of you he could reach. But now- as he pulled you into his arms and got to his feet; leaving you no choice but to put your arms around his neck. As he savored your little yelp of surprise when he grabbed your bottom to support you against his side- all he wanted was to be well underway. To have you to himself. And for the rattle of the carriage to drown out the sound of all the rakish things he was going to do to you on the way to the wedding.
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choccy-milky · 6 months
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hey! They already asked you but I don't know if you forgot hehe, what are the mbti of Clora and Sebastian? 😸
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OK, I FINALLY HAVE AN ANSWER!! took me a hot minute to figure out sebs, but after reading all the pages and comparing, i do think entp fits him the best. also i saw this picture on pinterest about a relationship between isfj and entp and its so true, esp the "do not listen to each other's advice, still get each other out of trouble" LMFAO. also the 'protecting isfj at all costs' 🥺🥺🥺im soft. (ALSO DONT COME AT ME I KNOW I SPELLED KNOWLEDGEABLE WRONG IM TOO LAZY TO FIX IT😭) OKAY!! and its been a while so i'll be using this ask to reply to a buncha others🙏🙏
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my fanfic does follow the plot of the game, but with sebastian added to every sidequest/story mission. and then from around the third (niamh's) trial, it starts to branch more into (mostly all) original stuff!^^
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yes actually LMAO, clora's lawley-slap wasn't even planned. but as i was writing it i started to get so offended on her behalf i was like GIRL, SLAP THIS BITCH🤬 so she did😇😇 id say its normal, yeah! even tho i stick to my outlines, a lot of what happens just kinda happens without my prior planning as i begin to write bahaha, especially dialogue scenes.
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aw, im glad u like my blog so much and that it can help u even in the smallest of ways 😭thank u!!💖💖
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BAHAHA AWW TYY IM GLAD U LIKE IT SO MUCH!! i saw u re-reading it recently on wattpad and ur comments always have me dying. also im just gonna address your other ask here in this one, but as u know seb has now met mr.clemons, and you 10000% nailed the dynamic between seb and clora's dad LMFAOO, they will absolutely bond over disagreeing with how careless she is and wanting to protect her/stressing over her LOOL. ty again for all ur messages, i love seeing how much u love my art/fic😭💖
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OMG u are so right i need to draw this
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also god idk....following the sebinis example, i guess they'd be...sebora?? reminds me of sephora LMAO. ive also had someone call them "alliteration shipping" which i think is so cute BAHAHA. HONESTLY PPL CAN JUST SAY WHATEVER THEY WANT, i aint picky.
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oh god its been too long since ive read the books (tho i do really wanna re-read them esp in the winter) but my fav movie is half blood prince, just because i love all the ron/hermione moments and the highschool drama BAHAHA. what do u mean harry potter isnt a romcom??? ok and last but DEFS not least
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THE UNHINGED ENERGY OF THIS ASK CRACKED ME UP SO MUCH WHEN U SENT IT BAHAHAH, couldnt even fit the whole thing in my screenshot. IM GLAD U LIKED/HATED THE CHAP, and also your pfp just makes everything you say funnier, i love it LMAOOO. ty🙏🙏
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berrieluv · 1 year
Text
Meet me in the afterglow. 
just a little something with spencer reid about that story when taylor swift tried to break up with joe alwyn and he just simply told her no.
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Spencer's breath was steady, calm, his exterior completely eating up the amount of rage feelings he had inside. He seemed so well it was almost impossible to believe.
"What did you just said?" You repeated again, not believing his words, not believing his physical language.
And it wasn't like you were profiling your own boyfriend, you wouldn't know how to do that. You weren't a member of the BAU but you've been next to Spencer far too many years to know him enough.
"I said I wanted you to get out" His hands were shaking and he was unbelievable good at hiding the small hints of nervousness his body gave out. But you knew better, you knew him a few years since he started working for the FBI, he wasn't older than twenty three, and now your boy was twenty seven years old. "I don't wanna be with you anymore"
You frowned, not knowing where all this came from, his hair falling ridiculously cute on his forehead and his cardigan making him look like softer than he is.
"Alright" you said, calmly. "You don't wanna be with me... in which way?"
He scoffs, tired of this conversation going nowhere "I don't want to be with you in any way! Not sexual, not romantic! I don't see us in a future"
You hummed, your face showing a frown and biting back your smirk. Lately, you were clueless about was going on at Spencer's job. The case after the last one did something on him, you knew, but he wouldn't talk about it, and you respected Spencer's limits and boundaries, you were sure he would talk to you when he felt ready to do such thing.
"I'll go then"
Your voice reminded calm even if he was raising his, you took your bag from the couch and put on your shoes to walk through the door without saying goodbye to him.
You heard Spencer's sob before you were completely out the door, and it hurt you to let him like this, but you knew he liked it this way.
The following day was hell to Spencer, he got too caught up in his books he forgot to sleep, and he forgot he had to go to work, because you usually reminded him of those things.
You usually covered him with a blanket and drove him to bed against all his will, promising him the book would be there next morning but his sleep hours wouldn't come back. You usually reminded him when he had to get out of the department so he would arrive to work on time, you woke him up or drove him there.
Today he didn't sleep, he was late, and he didn't have breakfast. A coffee cup with a lot of sugar now seemed too... unsatisfactory. What before was considered a good breakfast for him now was ruined, because there was no way you would allow him to eat just that. He had to eat at least to times a day, and that was a rule.
"Is there something wrong, pretty boy?" Morgan asked, concerned at the way Spencer's eyes were fixated on the cup "Something interesting happening in the coffee?"
Morgan chuckled at his own joke but Spencer didn't even realized he was talking to him.
He was sad, how was he supposed to arrive home if you weren't there. How was he supposed to receive the cold welcoming his department would give him instead of the coziest one you created.
But it was for the best. It had to be, because Spencer thought, he knew, you deserved better at least someone who wasn't on the line of death every time he had to work.
"Reid?" Morgan tried again and touched Spencer's arm, making his eyes go from the cup to him, a forced sided smile on his face and a head movement asking Derek to continue "Are you alright?"
Spencer nodded, seeing how the clock hits three o'clock meaning it's lunch time. Meaning his lunch box was empty. Meaning you weren't there, which meant he drove you away.
Morgan was about to say something before Spencer loaded himself into his self-pity again when you walked through the door, happily talking to Emily, Spencer didn't noticed you but Morgan did, so he slowly walked away, knowing that if there was something bad with Spencer who better than you to fix it.
You greet everyone and walk to Spencer, placing his lunch box in top of his desk and that's when he rises his eyes to look at you.
"What're you doing here?" He asks defensively.
"I see you still have that attitude" You let out and chuckle. "I came here so I could bring you lunch, since I know you surely had nothing for breakfast. Was that cup of coffee the only thing you had today?" He looks at you dead serious but doesn't answer any of your questions. "God, Spencie. You can't do this to yourself again, we were getting on track with your food habits, why do you do this, my love?"
"I broke up with you"
He says when you start taking out all the food.
"Yeah, I know" You simply answer, not paying any further attention to the case that it really needed. Spencer was impulsive "That was yesterday, tho. Today's a new day"
You saw Spencer cute frown forming on his forehead, placing his hand in your arm so you would stop "That's not how a breakup works. I told you I didn't want to be with you anymore"
"Yeah, well. You told me that but... No" You smirk and continue serving his food in a Cocomelon plate that he hated so much "I don't want to"
"But that's not how a breakup works"
"For someone's first relationship you sure know a lot about breakups, don't you?" Spencer's about to talk when you interrupt him again "Look, you're stubborn, I know, and you're impulsive. I know you, and you breaking up with me it's just... ridiculous. Ask anyone, no one would believe you or think you're in your right mind"
He gasps, offended "I'm capable of making my own decisions"
"I know, baby boo" You say with a sweet voice, taking a napkin and cleaning his face and hands before he started eating "You're the smartest person I know, the most capable of doing something as well... You're just, not good at relationships"
"But I..."
"You're thinking about it too much. Didn't we agree that I would make every important decision of our romantic life?" He nods "And I know you don't want me gone. God, just look at how you were minutes ago, you looked like hell"
"I missed you" He smiles softly, tired. "My days are not the same without you around"
"I know, sugar plum" He chuckles at the nickname "That's why I don't know why would you do such thing as break up with me. That was crazy and extreme"
"Thought it was better if you were... away from me. I'm just a burden"
"You are" You say, smiling "In the best possible way. "You're a burden that doesn't even weight, if that makes sense somehow. You're easy to take care of, Spencer. You need me to take care of you, you couldn't do it on your own"
"M'not a baby" He mumbles, pouting.
"I know, honey" You take his face on your hands "But no one ever taught you how to take care of yourself. You don't know how a healthy human being is supposed to live. If it wasn't because of me you would go days without eating! That's unacceptable, Spencer" You kiss his lips "I think you'll look gorgeous with a few extra pounds"
"If you keep spoiling me like this I may have then very soon"
"I'm still yours Spencer" You say, looking directly at his eyes "I will be forever as long as you don't disrespect me, because I'm sorry, I love you so much, like Lord knows I've never love anyone. But my love is not unconditional"
"I would never disrespect you"
"We'll be just fine, you know right?" He nods "Even when you go all crazy because your brain may just explode of all the information you retain there"
"You know that doesn't happens, right?"
You chuckle and nod "All of this, this is not your fault, baby"
"It's not what I meant. I'm sorry that I hurt you"
"We'll be alright..."
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