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#the boy has been through a lot okay give him a break his love is so pure
cameronspecial · 3 days
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A New Kind Of Normal (Part 5)
Pairing: Dad!Rafe Cameron x Reader
Warnings: Relapse
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 3.5K
Summary: After a fight with his dad, Rafe makes another mistake that could cost him everything.
Masterlist
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Stella spots her dad easily in the crowd of parents and runs toward him. He picks her up, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “How was daycare, little witch?” Rafe asks. She moves in his arms to look at him, “Good. It was my turn to feed the fishy today.” For the past few weeks, Rafe has been picking up Stella at daycare and dropping her off at the diner. It was tiring at first to drive back and forward from the Outer Banks to the mainland every day, so he rented an apartment close to Y/N’s house to make the journey shorter. Ward wasn’t too pleased when Rafe started working remotely, but Sarah talked to Ward about it. “That’s sounds fun. Are you still mad at Sabrina?” he asks while buckling the little girl. She finds his eyes through the rearview mirror, “Yes, she stole my boyfriend.” “That’s okay, you’re too young to be dating anyway. Boys are yucky,” he laughs at the pouty face she gives him.
——
Y/N is refilling the sugar container when Rafe walks through the door. Her surprise is written on her face because Stella is at her grandparents’, so he doesn’t need to drop her off this evening. She sets the sugar down, “Hey, is everything okay?” “Yeah, just didn’t really know what to do with my time since I’m not dropping Stella off. I thought I’d keep you company,” he states, sitting down at the counter. She laughs, “I remember the first time my parents took her for the weekend. I had a lot of time on my hands and I didn’t know what to do, so I rearranged my spice cabinet three times.”
“That sounds fun. How did you arrange them?”
“By country of origin, and then by taste, and then by alphabetical order, which is how I already had it. So I’m glad to be your spice cabinet for this evening.” 
Harvey comes out from the kitchen and sees Rafe at the counter, “Hello, Rafe. I’ll be with you in just a moment.” “It’s okay, Harv. I’m going to the kitchen to get something to drink. I’ll put in his order in. You can head on your break once you serve your table,” she informs, putting the sugar back under the countertop. Patty receives his order and Y/N heads back out to stay with Rafe. “How has your day been?” she asks, sitting on the stool across from him still behind the counter. He looks up from his phone, “It was a little disappointing. Work was the same as ever and I didn’t get to see my little witch. Seeing you is the best part of my day. How about you?” Her heart flutters and she uses a cough as an excuse to hide the sparkly in her eye. “I like seeing you too,” she says, focusing on the countertop. He gives a little chuckle, “I was asking more about your day, but it’s good to know you appreciate my company.” 
He knows she turned him down for a date and it hurt at the time, but Rafe hasn’t given up hope. She said that she liked him and timing was the only issue. He just has to show her he can stay sober and be in a relationship with her. Her eyes shy away, “Now, I feel stupid. My day was not bad. Business is better than usual, which means more money for me.” “Don’t feel stupid, Buttercup. It’s a simple mistake. I’m glad that business is going well,” he comforts. 
The two engage in smile talk until Patty comes out to give Rafe his food. “Patty,  I could’ve brought out his food,” Y/N protests, moving out of the way so Patty can slide the plate directly in front of him. Patty gives him a warm smile, “I know, but I just love seeing this handsome face.” “Aww, Patty. I love seeing you too. If only I was a few years older,” he plays along. She shakes her head, “If only. I would never dream of taking you for Y/N/N though.” “Patty, he isn’t mine. He is free to do whatever he wants,” Y/N interjects, disappointing Rafe. He turns his attention to Y/N, “There isn’t anyone else that I want other than Stella.” She looks at him with shock, understanding the hidden meaning behind the look in his eyes. “Stella is one lucky daughter,” she states while breaking their eye contact. Harvey calls Y/N over to ask her a question and this ends their conversation. “You love her,” Patty remarks. Rafe nods his head, “I do, but she doesn’t love me.” “Just you wait. She’ll come around. You’re already on the right track. Stella is definitely the way to her heart,” Patty returns to the kitchen. 
——
With Stella away, Y/N decides to give Patty and Harvey the rest of the night off and she would close up shop for the day. What she didn’t anticipate was Rafe staying with her until she closed. He spent eight hours with her at the counter. About three hours in, he commandeered her laptop to keep himself busy as she took care of the customers. He would tell her random facts to catch her attention and tell her a joke to hear her melodic laugh. He would steal glances at her every so often. Unbeknownst to him, she would steal some right back. She told him multiple times that he didn’t need to stay, but he insisted he needed her company to fill the hole of Stella being gone. The last customer leaves the diner and Y/N locks up behind him.
She turns toward Rafe, who still hasn’t left, “Do you want something to eat? You have been here for eight hours.” “I could go for some fries, but only if you eat something too. You haven’t eaten since I got here,” he points out. Right on time, her stomach growls in a long low tone. She didn’t realize she skipped dinner and felt butterflies at the fact that Rafe was keeping an eye on her. “Okay, I’ll be right back.” 
Around fifteen minutes later, she returns with a place full of fries and a burger. She rounds the counter to sit beside Rafe and puts the plate between the two of them. “Do you want to watch a movie?” she questions, pulling her laptop to her to open Disney +.  His hand finds a fry, “Sure.” He lets her pick Ratatouille since it feels like fitting with them being in a restaurant and all. Y/N inspects the fries on the plate and before she can take the fry she decides on, Rafe mindlessly grabs the one she wants. The fry is near his mouth, but she grabs it out of his hand and shoves it in her mouth. “Hey! I was going to eat that, Buttercup,” he complains. She shrugs her shoulders, “I like the crunchy ones, Button. I’m sorry, but I couldn’t let you have this crunchy goodness.” 
“That’s awfully selfish of you. How are you going to make it up to me?”
The pair had unknowingly gotten closer to each other. Their faces are only about three inches away from each other. His breath finds her lips and it takes everything in him not to bring them to his. She stares into his eyes, trying to figure out what he wants her to say. “Well… I don’t have much, but how about I let Stella sleep over at your place next weekend? Does that make you feel better?” she genuinely offers. Upon seeing she is serious, his face turns to joy, “I would love to have her sleepover. I have to get the spare bedroom ready. Maybe get her a few toys and some-.” “Woah, slow down there, Button. She is only there for a night. You don’t need to do too much for her,” Y/N stops his tangent. 
“I know. I just want her to enjoy her weekend with me so she’ll want to come back. So I can prove that I am a good father.” 
“Rafe, no matter what you do, she will want to be with you. You are her father and that’s all she needs.” 
Her right hand finds the side of his face and she plays with the bottom of his earlobe. He leans into her touch, letting himself be comforted after he is a little vulnerable with her. Her eyes flicker down to his watch and she notices the time. “Damn, it’s late. I should probably start walking back home,” she worries, scrambling off the stool and cleaning up their late-night snack. He looks at his watch, “You are walking home? What happened to your car?” “Joshua asked to borrow it and since Stella is not with me, I said it was fine,” she notes as a matter of fact. He helps her clean up and takes out his car key, “I see. I’ll drive you home then.” “Rafe, you don’t have to. You know it isn’t that far for me to walk,” she tries to refuse. He shakes his head, “Y/N, I’m not letting the mother of my child walk alone close to midnight. So, don’t worry about it and let me drive you.” She stops arguing and gets to work quickly cleaning up.
Once she closes the diner, they walk side by side to his car. He notices the goosebumps running up her arm and shrugs off his grey North Face jacket, wrapping it around her shoulders. She whispers a thank you. They get into the car and make their way to her house. He walks her to the door with his fingertips itching to touch hers. At the door, they turn to each other, looking into each other’s eyes. He takes a tentative step forward and she doesn’t move back. He is about to take a chance and lean in for a kiss when the door flings open to reveal Benedict.   
“Finally, you’re back. You sure took your sweet time with closing. Hey, Rafe. Y/N, do you have any mayo? I feel like eating just straight-up mayo,” Benny interrupts, walking away from the door to the kitchen. She pulls away from Rafe and follows her brother inside, devastating Rafe. He slowly enters the house after a few seconds to see the siblings bickering about Benny eating only mayo. The domestic sight makes him feel left out, so he bids goodbye to the pair. He is almost to the door when Y/N catches up to him. “Button, wait,” she calls out, gently grabbing his arm above his elbow. “I wanted to say thank you for keeping me company tonight. And for taking me home. I know you didn’t have to stay and that part of the reason you did is because of me. So thank you.” He looks back at her with a soft smile, “No problem. I have to protect the woman I lo- I have to protect the woman who gave birth to my baby girl.” She caught what he was about to say, nails finding their way between her teeth. “Right, well… goodnight,” she mutters, stepping back into her house. He moves back towards the sidewalk, “Goodnight.” Y/N waits for Rafe to be out of sight before closing the door.
——
Rafe opens the door to his apartment to find Ward Cameron waiting with an annoyed look on his face. “What do you want?” Rafe grumbles, leaving the door open and walking away from it. Ward enters the room, “You can’t keep living here. You need to come back to the Outer Banks.” “No, I don’t. I’ve been keeping up with my work and going back when we had a meeting. So I don’t see a problem,” Rafe argues, going to the kitchen to pour himself some water. 
“When are you going to realize that you are just playing pretend? That you are eventually going to get tired of playing family. It’s better you realized that sooner rather than later.”
“You have no idea what you are talking about. I’m not going to leave my family. You always say that family comes first and that’s what I’m doing.”
“Listen, Rafe. I know you and the only thing that you can stay committed to is coke and the family business. So stop kidding yourself.”
Rafe shakes his head in frustration, “Well, I’ve changed. I want to give my daughter the support you never gave to me but you gave to Sarah.” “When you realize this is all a mistake, don’t come crying to me to fix this problem. I already told you to sign a paper saying you’d only give child support,” Ward warns, heading back out the door. Rafe yells in frustration, throwing a water bottle at the wall. He doesn’t understand the point of his father coming over just to tell him he is going to end up abandoning his family. It drives Rafe crazy that Ward thinks he knows everything about his son when Ward barely takes the time to talk to him. His feelings for his dad come cropping up and he needs something to relieve the stress. 
A knock on the door causes him to stop his tantrum. Shit, he forgot he is supposed to have Stella over for tonight. A second knock comes when he is splashing water on his face to calm down. At the third knock, he opens the door to see an excited Stella and a nervous Y/N. His daughter walks into the apartment as if she lives there while Y/N notices Rafe’s emotion. “Are you okay? She can sleep over next weekend if this is a bad time,” Y/N says. He doesn’t want to talk about it, “I’m fine. She can stay. I could use her company.” She isn’t sure if what he says is the entire truth, but she trusts him to know what he needs and if he needs his daughter, she won’t stop him. “Okay, well call me if you need anything. I’ll be at home all night,” she informs, heading inside to give Stella a kiss before she leaves. Rafe sighs once the door is locked, turning toward his daughter with a fake smile. “What do you want to do, little witch?” She gives him a massive grin and pulls something out from her bag, “Can I practice my face painting on you, Daddy? I can make you into a monster.” “Doesn’t that sound like a great idea? I would love to be your model.”
——
The evening he gets to spend with his daughter is the best he’s ever gotten to spend. They went on a Target run and got a variety of stuff. Toys. Clothes. Food. Board Games. Accessories. Anything she wanted found its way into their cart. He didn’t care about the looks he got for wearing skeleton makeup that Stella put on his face. It may be June, but it is never too early to celebrate the spooky season. They got back home after the shopping spree to make all the food and play all the board games they bought. He had just put her to bed when the bad thoughts started to creep back in. The doubts he is feeling about being a father start to seep through. So far, everything has been great. They always have so much fun. But what happens when the real struggles of parenting start to begin? When Stella won’t simply go to bed because he told her so. When she starts to resist his authority because the newest of having a dad is over. 
His hands are going crazy with fidgeting with his watch. The leg bouncing up and down is the only thing emitting a sound throughout the living room. He goes to call Diana and is sent to voicemail. He wants to call Y/N but thinks twice about it because he doesn’t want to worry her. He knows he shouldn’t but he needs to stop the voices in his head. The DVD case in the TV centre is calling to him. His feet lead him closer to what he shouldn’t be close to. He gets out the case and opens it up to find the little bag of powder. Before this day, he forgot he had stashed it there and that is why he hasn’t got rid of it yet. It’s okay if he has a little bit though, just a little. Maybe if he knows he should control himself, then it will be better than using more. He just needs a little something to stop his brain. 
He forms one line. One line should be enough. The relief he feels, once he snorts the line, begs him to do another. One more couldn’t hurt. He doesn’t realize he has gone through the whole bag until he can’t make any more lines. The energy he feels gets him up and moving. He cleans up the mess they made while cooking and organizes the board games they played. After a while he starts to crash, so he lies down on the couch to try and get some sleep but the coke isn’t letting him. He stares at the ceiling for hours until eventually, the mindlessness of sleep overcomes him, forgetting to clean up the evidence of what he did. 
——
Y/N taps the door as lightly as possible to hopefully not wake up Stella. She wants to help Rafe get breakfast ready for the little girl. The knock goes unanswered, so the next one that comes is a little harder. Rafe opens the door with a confused look that turns to panic when he sees who it is. “Hey, Button. Sorry to wake you up so early. But I thought I could help you make Stells some breakfast. I hope you have some eggs because I was thinking about making some eggs benedict,” she explains, heading toward the kitchen to place down the tote with the food she brought. Rafe scrambles to block her view of his coffee table, “Uh, yeah. The eggs are in the fridge.” He was too late. Her eyes are already narrowed at something in the living room and he knows she saw his last night late activities. 
She heads toward the table to make sure she is actually seeing what she thinks she is seeing. “You relapsed,” she mutters to herself in a calm and worrying tone. Rafe runs to her side, gently turning her to look at him, “Buttercup, I know I did. But I promised it wasn’t that much. I just needed something to stop my thoughts.” Her head starts to shake violently as she yanks her hand out of his hold and walks back slowly toward Stella’s room. The anger she feels is now showing, “If it wasn’t that much, then how come the bag is empty, Rafe? How much was in that bag? HOW MUCH COCAINE DID YOU DO WHILE MY DAUGHTER WAS UNDER YOUR CARE?” The blow comes in twofold. The first, she didn’t call him the playful nickname she always does. The second, she called Stella her daughter instead of theirs. 
“I know I screwed up, Buttercup. But I promise, she wasn’t awake.” 
“You don’t get to call me that right now. I don’t care if she is awake or not. I’m upset at the fact that you did drugs while she was in the house. That she could’ve woken up while you were sleeping and had access to the mess you left. Or worse, you died on the couch because you overdosed. ” 
“Of course, you are allowed to be upset. But it was a mistake. I’m sorry. It will never happen again. Y/N, please.”
“I can’t Rafe. I know that relapsing is sometimes a part of the journey to sobriety and I can forgive that. I can’t forgive putting Stella at risk.”
Y/N walks away in the direction of Stella’s room. All he can do is wait there as he hears the door open. “Stella. Baby, wake up. It’s time to go,” Y/N murmurs, kneeling beside the bed and running her fingers through Stella’s hair. The girl gently stirs, “Why, Mommy? I haven’t had breakfast yet.” “Because, Baby, Daddy needs to go somewhere so we have to go. We can make breakfast at home,” the mother explains, helping her daughter put of the bed. She knows Stella wants to debate more, but isn’t allowed to because Y/N is packing Stella’s stuff as fast as she can. 
Rafe is still standing there when Y/N comes back out with Stella in one arm and the little girl’s bag over the other shoulder. This makes him rush toward her, “Y/N, please. Don’t go. Please.” She ignores him and walks out the door, leaving the food she brought. He can hear Stella demanding to say bye to her Daddy and it rips his heart out as he hears Y/N firmly say no. He slams the door shut, screaming into the oblivion of his pain. 
Taglist: @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @drewstarkeyswifehoe @kisstaya @magicalyoura @mp-littlebit @loverfu55ii @dark1paradise @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @alyisdead @emeloyy @js-a-writer @kisstaya @optimisticsandwichgladiator
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charliemwrites · 4 months
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In this 1fur1 au….may I raise you wolf!price? The dog/man basically struts right into your home out of the woods and immediately takes his place as pack leader. It doesn’t matter that you’re supposed to be the one giving orders, price is in charge now.
You want to get off the couch and away from the mass of cuddles? Absolutely not. Price will be giving you a look so domineering you are sitting right back down no questions asked. He has you well trained ;)
The others don’t seem to mind the new addition either, making way for a new top dog. Price is quiet and doesn’t cause trouble, but if you’re late home be prepared to face his doggy wrath
Okay, so I love this concept, but I’m gonna raise you one - and write a new part for it.
(Don’t worry, Gaz is coming soon. This ask just really spoke to me lol).
This is also a part 1 — part 2 coming soon.
Three fuck-off sized wolf dogs is a lot. Like, a lot. There’s the fur, the food, the playtime. And then just the sheer clinginess. You’ve always thought of yourself as a dog person, that they just naturally are drawn to you because you tend to be quiet and respectful of boundaries.
Your boys though. They’re something else. Johnny was the easiest of the three to acclimate to your household. When it was just the two of you, bonding and learning him was easy. Whoever had him first had already done a lot of the work training him. And he naturally seems to like girls better so.
Ghost was more difficult. Clearly some trauma there, and a more wolfy-attitude towards humans. Primarily that he doesn’t seem to understand (or agree with) dumb pet things like harnesses, collars, and about 50% of the commands you give him unless you use your Serious Voice. He’s gotten less stingy with affection as time has gone on and his trust in you has grown.
Helped in part, you think, by learning his personality and behaviors. He’s a creature of strict habit. Likes his routines. Likes his space even more; you’ve always been respectful when he wanders off to another room, or when he climbs off the couch to lay nearby but not with you. You never mind, just call that you love him and leave him be.
Konig has been your biggest challenge so far. A lot of trauma there. And possibly a naturally shy personality; though it’s so hard to tell after everything he’s clearly been through. He’s been improving steadily each day, little by little. He’s sweet as can be, affectionate and snuggly when you manage to get him to join you and the others. The least aggressive with men when you take them for walks.
You’re lucky, the boys are so well-behaved — dislike of men notwithstanding. Scary dog privilege is a true blessing when you live alone, with no close neighbors, and right next to the woods. And they are so ridiculously sweet with you at least.
Still, they can be a lot. Any one of them is nearly the size of you, when all three of them decide to act up, it’s overwhelming.
Johnny will starting howling, pissed that Ghost has pinned him again. Ghost will start barking and grumbling - presumably trying to shut him up. And then Konig will insert himself, whining and tapping his feet, trying to break them up, you think.
Sometimes they’ll knock it off on their own, and Ghost will sneeze, shake off, and everyone will come to sit with you. But sometimes…
“Boys!”
You wade in between them, get a hold of Ghost’s scruff and push him off with your thigh against his muscular shoulder. Nearly trip over Johnny as he tries to scramble up and get at Ghost, crying and growling at the same time somehow. You curse as Konig bumps into you, nearly makes you fall over Ghost, who backs up with his nose scrunched up like he’s gonna bite.
Which is about the time you’ve had enough.
“Boys!” There’s a blessed beat of silence. “Outside, now!”
Johnny charges for the door, barking over his shoulder at ghost, who is quick to follow. Konig is slightly slower, head ducked like he knows he’s being part of the problem.
You groan with relief as they pile outside, all three immediately getting into another tussle. They’ve been keyed up the last three days no matter what you do and today seems to be the day it’s finally boiling over. You just wish it was on a day that the yard isn’t wet with mud.
Well then. You drop onto the porch steps and run your hands down your face, sighing. Best to let them stay out as long as possible — try to make bath time a little easier, at least.
You hear nails on the wood next to you, a little squeak, a snort. Figuring it’s one of the boys, you reach a hand without looking and tangle your fingers in their scruff. Pause because… that does not feel like any of your boys.
No way.
You pick your head up, turn slowly. And yup, there’s a dog you’ve never seen before. Another weird wolf one. Not as big as Konig at least. Closer to Ghost’s size — and actually similar in coloration. Cream and tan, with sharp blue eyes, a funny pattern along his cheeks and jaw that looks a bit like a beard.
“What in the…” you breathe, “is there some kind of doggy magnet on this house or something?”
You creep your fingers up his neck and around to his chin, give him a little scritch before he tilts his head to sniff at your wrist.
“Hi, handsome,” you coo, “oof.”
You hurry to prop yourself up as he shoves his muzzle into your stomach, nuzzling up under your shirt. You squeak at the cold, wet nose on your skin — and then again he licks at your ribs.
“Alright, alright,” you huff, shoving at his chest.
He backs up, though not far, ears perked forward and eyes bright. You stare back at him for a second, then sigh and do your due diligence, searching for a collar or microchip. He waits patiently until you’re done, then stands and shakes himself off.
You arch an eyebrow as he barks twice. All three of your boys stop, heads jerking up and turning to the two of you on the porch. Another bark and your little pack comes trotting back. When Johnny tries to nip at Ghost’s haunch, the new dog rumbles low in his chest. And to your shock, Johnny falls in line and slinks inside.
“Huh,” you say.
The mystery pup sneaks a kiss to your cheek before following the others inside. When you just sit there for a second, staring, he twists to look at your over his shoulder and gives you a little “boof.”
You laugh. “Bossy bastard.” And follow them in.
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awearywritersworld · 7 months
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"took you long enough"
gojo satoru x reader summary: when you ask your best friend to meet the guy you've been seeing, things don't go quite as planned. w/c: 3.2k tags/warnings: angst to smut with a fluffy ending. 18+. friends to lovers. jealous gojo. curse words. drinking. gojo shoves ur love interest. he's just kind of an ass to him in general. fem!reader. no use of y/n. a/n: i don't often write smut, but i kinda got carried away.. carpe diem, i say masterlist
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gojo is tired of hearing you ramble on about the new guy you've been seeing. he barely even glances at your phone screen when you try to show him a picture you took together.
"you're way out of his league," he states dryly.
"hardly," you scoff. "men don't exactly line up for me like women do for you."
it'd be a lie to claim you didn't have a thing for gojo at one point, but you learned a long time ago that he isn't interested in you that way. it wasn't hard to tell, given his parade of hookups and the occasional two week relationship. you've gotten over it though... for the most part, anyway.
he rolls his eyes. "i assure you that's only because you're shy, princess."
"okay, so you should be rejoicing that your best friend finally landed herself a boyfriend—"
"boyfriend?"
"well.. it's not official yet, but i think he's going to ask me soon!"
your apparent enthusiasm at the prospect leaves a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. of course, it's only because he wants the best for you and this guy certainly isn't it. "you've gone on like two dates."
"'toru, i've been seeing him for almost a month!" when he doesn't respond, you continue speaking. "so... that's why i was sort of hoping you'd come out with us tonight."
he looks at you increduously, "i am not third wheeling."
"you won't be!" you assure. "shoko and kento said they'd come. i just want you to meet him because you're really important to me and i actually think this could go somewhere—"
"alright, alright," he acquiesces, albeit begrudgingly. he's never been able to say no to you.
you squeal with excitement, throwing your arms around his neck in a brief hug. "i can't wait! we're all meeting at seven, i'll text you the address."
after a quick kiss to his cheek, you gather your things, all but running out the door. you weren't going to give him a chance to change his mind.
he stares after you wordlessly, running a hand through his hair while an unfamiliar tightness overcomes his chest.
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when gojo enters the bar, he spots you right away despite the sizable crowd. as he makes his way toward your group, he can't help but notice how pretty you look in your little dress. in fact, you'd look absolutely perfect if it weren't for the fact you have another man's arm around your waist.
wait, what?
your laugh rings out across the room and judging by the smirk on shoko's face, he can tell she's said something you find unreasonably funny. once you spot him, your face lights up and you pull away from your almost boyfriend to give gojo a hug, something that brings him a sense of satisfaction.
"hey, sweetheart," he greets loud enough that the other man can hear. "who's this?"
"satoru, this is shinya!" you're beaming at him expectantly, so gojo has no choice but to extend his hand.
"hey, man." shinya shakes it firmly. "it's great to meet you. my girl's told me a lot about you."
gojo's eye twitches and he decides almost immediately that he finds shinya utterly insufferable. his voice is grating and he's too short and didn't you say you prefer guys with lighter hair—
"nice to meet you, too," gojo responds cooly. "i'm always happy to meet one of her friends."
nanami and shoko share a knowing look, more than prepared to break out their hypothetical popcorn. and boy, is this as good an occasion as any.
the strongest sorcerer isn't one to indulge in liquor, but how can he refrain when he has to be in the same room as shinya? each time he touches you, looks in your direction, calls you some sickening pet name— whenever he breathes in your general vicinity, really— gojo brings his drink up to his lips.
everyone else seems to be getting along, but unfortunately, he grows increasingly snarky with each glass he empties.
shinya asks what you'd like when he goes up for another round and it's 'oh, you don't know her favorite drink? well, i guess you're not as close as we are.'
shinya pulls your chair out for you and it's 'wow, you really got yourself a gentleman, princess.'
shinya mentions that he's fairly well versed in martial arts and it's 'really? maybe we should go out back and spar. i think it'd be fun.'
nanami steps in then, not entirely convinced gojo would hesitate before laying him out. "you can put the measuring tape away, idiot."
shinya is being an impressively good sport, but your anxiety has you emptying glasses in a hasty manner, too. you have no idea what's going on with gojo. you understand that he can be abrasive at times and that communication definitely isn't his strong suit, but his behavior is just absurd. you force an awkward laugh at nanami's comment.
"not that i'm not having, um, a great time and all!" you hiccup before continuing. "but i'd really like to dance. c'mon shinya!"
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nanami and shoko wind up joining you both, which comes as a surprise. neither of them are exactly the partying type (not that you are either), but you're happy to see them having fun. honestly, you can't remember the last time either of them let loose.
you wonder if they also just wanted to escape gojo's snide remarks. now that they aren't ringing in your ear every other minute, your nerves have certainly calmed down a bit. well, until—
"so you do know that he's totally in love with you, right?"
"who?" you question, looking around as if it'd be obvious.
and it is, just not to you.
shinya chuckles. "gojo."
"what?" you bellow, completely dumfounded. "no way! i mean he's not— and i'm not— we're just friends."
"yeah?" he still sounds amused, nodding in gojo's direction. "is that why he looks like that?"
turning toward your table, even you have to admit he looks completely miserable. unbeknownst to you, he's spent the last half hour sending away every woman that approaches him asking to dance. he just isn't in the mood right now. at least, that's what he tells himself.
"er.. he just doesn't get out that much," you try your best to brush it off.
"whatever you say, baby."
you're relieved he doesn't seem terribly bothered by the idea, even if you find it completely implausible. it's true you spend a lot of time together and that you know one another like the back of your hands, but you'd given up any hope of it being more than friendship a long time ago. you'd moved on.
but if that's the case, why did shinya calling you baby suddenly feel so wrong? you convince yourself it must just be the alcohol.
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when the four of you finally stumble back to the table, you realize you've missed last call. though it's probably for the best, as the five of you are certainly in for a nasty hangover the following morning.
it's near closing time, but the crowd has hardly thinned out and the music is still beating loudly in your ears. you're going back to jujutsu tech with your friends rather than home with shinya, so you loudly exchange goodbyes over the music as he gets ready to leave.
"i had a really great time tonight," he tells you. "maybe we could go for dinner tomorrow? there's something i've been wanting to ask you."
"okay!" you agree eagerly, eyes shining. "i'll call you in the morning."
gojo feels his stomach drop, his jaw clenching bitterly. he tries to tell himself to relax because this is what you want, but he just can't seem to get his thoughts straight.
shinya leans down, his lips meeting yours sweetly, and it causes white hot anger to flood gojo's body. it all happens so fast, shinya's ripped away from you with astounding force and he staggers backward. you've been struggling to hear over the noise all night, though you make out each word that follows with striking clarity.
"get the fuck away from her!"
gojo stalks off before anyone has time to process what just happened. he's already half way across the room when you come to your senses.
"'toru!" you call out, taking a step in his direction when he doesn't respond. "satoru!"
you take another step but you're stopped when something pulls you back. you look down to find shinya's hand wrapped around your wrist before your gaze turns up to meet his eye. "look, i really like you, but if you go after him, don't bother calling tomorrow."
the ultimatum is simple, but so is your decision. "i'm sorry."
you run off before he can say anything else, shoving your way through the bar patrons, and follow gojo out the door into the cold air of night.
"satoru!" you shout once more, thankful that his pace is slow enough for you to catch up. he turns to face you when you tug on his sleeve.
you nearly shy away from him, his expression something fierce, but the liquor in your system gives you courage. "what the hell was that? you embarrassed me—"
"i don't fucking care," he spits.
he's never taken such a tone with you, so you throw your hands in the air and exhale impatiently. "what do you mean? you should care! you're my friend, aren't you?"
"that's exactly what i mean. you're supposed to be mine," he growls.
you're not sure how it happens, but the next thing you know, his lips are crashing into yours, your teeth knocking together with the force. his hands paw at your hips, pulling your body against his greedily.
"i can't believe," he mumbles against your lips, "you wasted your time," his hands find your hair, tugging your head back and revealing your neck, "with that fucking loser."
once he's finished speaking, his lips trail across your jaw, landing just below your ear. your eyes flutter open and you're suddenly very aware that you're standing in the middle of a public sidewalk.
"'toru," your voice is breathy, even though you're trying desperately to keep it together. "there are people—"
he pulls away heatedly, his eyes narrowed. "you didn't care when he kissed you in front of everyone."
"yeah, but that was just a peck," you reason, though if he keeps this up, you're worried you might lose your resolve.
"tch, i guess you're right." the familiar sensation of warping through space and time sweeps through your body for a few seconds before your feet meet solid ground again. you don't need to look around to know you're in his bedroom. "we're going to do a lot more than that tonight."
your stomach flips at his words, heat rushing to your core. his lips find your neck once more, leaving sloppy kisses along your skin. "that's what you want right? for me to show you who you belong to?"
you nod weakly, feeling as if you're in a daze.
"ah, ah. use your words, sweetheart."
"yes— ah—" he sucks on the spot just above your collarbone before nipping the delicate skin there. "yes, 'toru."
"then get on the bed," he orders lowly.
and who are you to disobey? you can't honestly say you haven't been dreaming of this for years. his blanket feels cool to the touch, making you realize suddenly how much your skin is already burning with desire.
he kneels beside the bed, wasting no time before pushing up your dress and pulling your legs apart. you see his shoulders fall as he exhales harshly at the sight. his eyes flutter shut when he presses a kiss to your core over the tiny cotton panties you decided to wear.
he's rudely reminded of the possibility that you may have put them on with another man in mind.
"did you let him fuck you?" he interrogates. his eyes don't leave yours as he begins placing open mouthed kisses on the inside of your thigh.
"n-no!" it's almost embarrassing how vehemently you deny it, but the man between your legs takes great pleasure in your response.
"mm, knew you were a good girl."
he hooks a finger beneath your panties, pulling them down excruciatingly slow. you buck your hips up once he throws them off to the side.
"feeling eager, princess?" he taunts, his breath fanning across your center.
you nod, your legs shaking with anticipation, before remembering what he said about using your words. "please, 'toru. need you so bad."
he can't possibly deny you, not when you beg for him so sweetly. he presses a soft kiss to your swollen bud before flattening his tongue against it, drawing circles there. he groans when your slickness coat his chin.
you whine when his eyes shift up to meet yours and push yourself against him even further. he chuckles against your skin, but truth be told, he's just as eager as you are. he slips one long finger inside of you, relishing in how easily you take it.
"oh—" you cry out as he adds another finger, his tongue pressing against you just a little harder.
his other hand is gripping your thigh roughly, the flesh spilling between his fingers. one of your arms is supporting your weight, but the other reaches out, your fingers threading through his hair.
you're panting now, tugging on his white locks in pleasure. he moans in response and the way your walls are clenching around him lets him know you're close. "c'mon baby, cum for me."
that's all it takes for you to unravel, his name falling from your lips over and over. he doesn't stop until he's sure you've come down from your high.
"you tasted so perfect," he tells you, unbuckling his pants in a hurry and shoving them down his legs.
his shirt and boxers follow quickly thereafter, so you pull your dress over your head. you can't tear your eyes away from his cock, it's long and thick and pretty.
he pushes you back against the bed and crawls on top of you, but then he just stares down at your face. just as you begin to wonder if something is wrong—
"you're so fucking beautiful. have i ever told you that?"
your mind reels for an answer, but you don't have to worry about it for long, as his lips capture yours. you can taste yourself on his tongue
"tell me what you want," he murmurs against your lips as he moves his cock along your slit, coating himself in your wetness.
"need you, 'toru. p-please, i need you to fuck me."
he smiles against your lips as he lines himself up with your entrance, pushing inside slowly. he leans back to find that your eyes are screwed shut and your lips are parted in bliss. he's determine to seer the image into his mind forever.
splitting you open is absolute ecstasy, the noises he's making are proof enough of that. "fuck, princess. fuck."
he nearly whimpers when he bottoms out. "god, you feel so perfect. i could stay in this pussy forever."
your legs wrap around his waist once he begins to pump in and out. "never felt so full, 'toru. it feels s'good."
he shudders at your words and laces his fingers with yours, sweat beading on his forehead as he picks up his pace. his head dips down, his teeth nipping the skin of your neck aggressively.
"p-people are gonna see—"
"i want them to," he rumbles. "want everyone to know how good i made this tight little pussy feel."
you can't argue with him, not when this is the best anyone's ever made you feel. his head shifts even lower, his tongue moving along your nipples in a way that has your back arching off the bed.
he uses the opportunity to snake an arm beneath your lower back, holding your body against himself firmly. the new angle has you mewling his name in the most sinful way.
"you're takin' me so well. like you were made for this cock."
your head's lolling to the side as you fall to pieces beneath him and he can feel himself getting close. "look at me when i fuck you, baby."
you do as he asks, his hips stuttering when he sees the tears of pleasure swimming in your eyes. "you're mine, aren't you? tell me you're mine."
your pussy clenches around his cock so tight it's almost painful. "i'm yours, 'toru. all yours."
"fuck, that's my good girl. gonna cum for me again, hm?"
you nod up at him meekly, too far gone for words, but he doesn't seem to mind this time.
"'i'm close too, sweetheart." his fingers reach down to rub circles on your clit, eliciting a throaty moan from you.
you feel your stomach tighten and you're nearly there, but you don't go over the edge until he begs, "can i fill you up? want to so bad."
you can't find the strength to respond, so you hope the way you tighten your legs around his waist and claw at his back is answer enough.
your head rolls to the side once more, your vision going fuzzy around the edges. he grips your chin between his thumb and forefinger, turning you to face him. "please, baby. wanna see you when i cum—"
he hums your name through a choked moan, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he reaches his own high. he collapses on top of you, laying there for a moment before pulling out and rolling onto his back beside you.
no words are shared, both of you trying to catch your breath and slow your heart rate. the silence gives your mind a chance to wander, which is never a good thing.
you consider the fact that gojo's never kept a girl around for more than a week or two— that this probably meant way more to you than it did to him. you sit up feeling stupid and wrap your arms around your chest.
you look around the room in search of your panties, his cum running down your thighs when you stand up to grab them. it's not until you pull them up your legs that he opens his eyes. he props himself up on his elbow, furrowing his eyebrows when you pick up your dress.
"what are you doing?" he asks curiously.
"well, i figured i should go back to my room—"
"what, are you crazy?" he gawks at you. "get your ass back in this bed."
you approach him shyly, your apprehension clear to him. "i mean, you can if you want, but why would you go back to your room?"
"i just didn't know if you... you know.."
"no, i don't know." if you knew him any less, you might think he was intent on torturing you, but it's clear to you that he's genuinely confused.
you sigh. "i just didn't know what this meant for us."
"baby, i didn't think i could make it any more clear." he sits up to grab you by the wrist, tugging you onto his lap and wrapping his arms around your waist. "i'm all yours, so you're stuck with me." he tries to mask the nervousness in his voice when he asks, "is that okay with you?"
you nod, hiding your face in his neck. "took you long enough."
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bangarangdarling · 11 months
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blame the “hitting on your mom as a punishment” tiktok i just saw that literally blew my brain up. established because they’re disgustingly in love and because i say so
Eddie would normally consider himself pretty immune to the roar of arguing teenagers. Chaos surrounds their little Party. They’re not a quiet bunch when all together. It’s all shoving and yelling, giggling and roughhousing. Carpet-burned battle scars from the floor of Steve’s living room.
Lord knows Eddie himself wasn’t an inside-voice kind of person. He was certainly wont to standing on coffee tables and screeching demands for the remote when it was unjustly stolen away by villainous hands.
Eddie loved these people to death, and they were a lot of fucking fun to hang out with, it’s just this...this was an unreal level of noise. A normal sleepover night turned a little too rowdy, the adolescents celebrating the start of Summer with a bang.
Steve had already asked them to keep it down four times this evening. Nothing seemed to calm them. Not requests. Not threats of being sent home. Usually their Dungeon Master threatening their characters’ souls did the trick, but no go. 
Getting teenagers to listen? A feat more impossible than defeating creatures from an alternate universe. 
Dustin and Erica were in a bitching match about the best D&D class. Lucas and Mike had been fighting over movie choices for the last half hour. Eddie’s money was on the VHS player breaking before that, the constant mishandling and shoving of tapes had the poor thing practically smoking.
Will, ever the diplomat, was trying to be an impartial party when asked his movie opinions. Which, of course, caused more yelling. 
Max and El had been the only ones being semi-quiet, but that quickly ended when they followed through on their surprise attack pillow fight, pummeling the boys senseless and causing the already unbearable volume to kick into overdrive. Eddie could practically feel Steve’s migraine building, even from where the dude had retreated to the kitchen. Dinner had been pizza. Quick. Easy. Clean. Or, it would have been if it hadn’t had been for the food fight. Steve was still in there scrubbing cheese out of his parents’ tiled backsplash. Dishes clattered in the distance when the cacophony hit its crescendo. 
It was the proverbial straw. 
“Alright, that’s it! Hey. Come on, guys. Knock it off,”
Nothing. 
“HEY!”
He maybe overdid it that time, but the absolute ear-splitting boom of a yell he let out stopped the ruckus dead. 
Silence rang for a beat.
Huh. Maybe Eddie should try out incorporating that into his music. He honestly hadn’t known he could get to that range. 
The teenagers in the room stared at him, not cowed in the slightest, but curious enough to know what the hell Eddie’s problem was. Max was the first one to quirk an eyebrow at him.  “Geez, need attention much?” 
Eddie folded his arms to show he meant business. “Steve has asked you guys to tone it down. You’re waking the fucking dead. Why don’t you guys, like, actually go be good human beings and help him clean up your mess you all made in the kitchen, huh?” 
Lucas snorted. “Yeah, okay, mom. Why don’t you go help him, you guys will probably just make out in there, anyway.” 
It was a teasing comment. Meant to jokingly rib before getting back to doing whatever the hell they wanted to do.
But, see. That just gave him an idea. 
Never let it be said Eddie couldn’t be creative with his punishments. He was a DM after all. 
“Alllllllright. New plan. Listen up or suffer, ankle biters,” 
He really didn’t appreciate the snickers that brought about when he was trying to be intimidating. Rude. 
“You going to send us to our room or something? I’m real scared,” Erica’s scathing, dry wit was unparalleled, truly. 
“Nope. Better. It’s a new rule: You little shitheads give me attitude and don’t listen, I hit on your babysitter.”
It was silent for a minute, brains audibly computing that statement and coming up ERROR. Will hesitantly spoke up. 
“Uh, Eddie, I really don’t think that’s--”
“Yeah, what the fuck?” Mike interrupted. “Why would you beating up Steve hurt us? I mean, like, I guess it would emotionally, but that’s fucked up, man.” 
Eddie rolled his eyes, still smirking wickedly as his plan solidified.  “Oh, I don’t mean that kind of hitting, young Wheeler. Though, it may yet get physical--Hey, Steve?” He called out. The sink in the kitchen shut off after a second.
“Yeah?” 
“Can you come here?” 
The kids shuffled around on the floor warily as the other man walked into the living room. The energy had obviously shifted, it was probably an odd vibe to walk in to, but Eddie cut Steve off before he could ask any questions.
“You tired?”
“Uh, no. I’m fine--”
“It’s just you just keep on runnin’ through my mind constantly. I figured you’d be exhausted, sweetheart,” Eddie purred, the words cloyingly sweet and full of exaggerated charm. 
There was a countdown, three, two, one...
A collective groan let out. A few uncomfortable laughs.  “Dude, what the hell?” 
“You guys agreed not to be gross in front of us!”
“Oh, my god, can I actually get sick from how cheesy that was?” 
Eddie had to work at keeping in character when his very first line had pulled the intended reaction. He was already reaching forward to curl an arm around Steve, pulling him in in a slow, sultry attempt at being smooth. 
“What? Can’t I be sweet on my guy? You all will understand when you’re in love one day. Right, sugar?” 
Fake gags and retching sounds, too dramatic to be real protests, but still indignant and annoyed. Eddie was pretty sure Dustin slapped a hand over his eyes.
“Uh...yes?” Steve, who had previously looked like a car accident had happened directly in front of him, was catching on to the play. He eyed the disgruntled floor-children with a growing grin and let Eddie snuggle up to him.
God, his baby was so clever. He always knew what Eddie was thinking. 
Too busy having a non-verbal conversation with Steve on how to best annoy the kids, Eddie didn’t see Mike turning his attention back to the tv. He did, however, hear him telling the others to “Just ignore them, they’ll get all gushy and leave us alone.” 
Oh, Michael, Michael. Wrong move. 
“How you doing, babygirl?” Steve flushed, deep and red and--huh. Okay. Revisiting that one in the future. “You good? You need anything? Your head hurting, sweet thing? I can kiss it better,”  Eddie ducked forward to kiss Steve’s cheek. It was chaste, a sweet little thing...that Eddie made infinitely worse by the smacking, obnoxious kissy sounds he emulated there. The chorus of groans and protests started up again. He didn’t even pull his face away to call over to them. 
“I’m sorry, is that attitude? Am I hearing more attitude?”
“Dude, Eddie, noooo!” 
“Jesus, it’s like watching your parents make out, oh my god.” 
“You guys, let’s just go already,” 
“Yeah, I’ll take washing dishes over this,” 
The grossed out teenagers whooshed past them. Grumbling and glaring--except Eleven, who smiled up at them sweetly--leaving Steve and Eddie standing in the living room, still wrapped up together. 
It was too tempting then, with the kids safely out of range, for Eddie to resist the temptation to drop his kisses a little lower down Steve’s neck. To let them get a little less chaste. Just a little.
What can he say? He’s a weak man. 
“That was evil,” Steve hummed. His shoulders dropped, though, relaxing into Eddie’s hold, the closest thing they’ve had to quiet all night settling in. 
“Hey, I accomplished two things. Got them to chill out and I get the perk of feeling you up in the middle of sleepover night. It’s a win-win.” 
A crash and a muffled argument broke out in the kitchen before Steve could respond to that. 
The audible scuffling was cut off by Eddie calling out “Your ass looks great in these jeans tonight, Harrington!” 
The fierce whispers and shushing were enough to get both of the older boys cackling loudly. 
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sunshinesteviee · 6 months
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quality time - s.h.
summary: steve has some quality time with his newborn wc: 1.1k warnings: descriptions of steve's scars, dad!steve & mom!reader a/n: so i'm pretty sure this was originally a request from an anon literally forever ago, but i cannot for the life of me find the ask, i'm so so sorry! it's been a while since i've posted, so just a lil something for y'all. hope you enjoy! <3
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“You wanna hold him again, love?” you ask your husband in a murmur, barely able to pull your gaze up from your newborn. He’s tiny and perfect, and you just can’t get enough of him, even after a couple of hours. 
Steve’s perched next to you on the bed, one strong arm around your body. His thumb traces short, gentle lines over the hill of your shoulder, nose pressing against your temple as he gazes down at your son, “Mhm, yeah, if—“
“You better not be saying ‘if it’s okay with me’, he’s your son, too, Steve. Here, you take him,” you elbow him gently, knowing exactly what he’s thinking. It’s adorable, but totally not necessary. 
His cheeks flame red as he carefully takes the bundle of blankets from you, sheepish as he mumbles, “That’s not what I was gonna say—“
“Save it, baby, I know you better than that.”
He huffs but doesn’t say anything, immediately drawn to his baby boy in his arms instead. He looks like a mini version of you, your nose and eyes that he loves so much; it makes his heart grow ten times bigger. He does have a full head of hair that’s definitely the Harrington gene, though. And maybe he has Steve’s lips, too. 
Steve pulls his arms up, pressing a kiss to his head gently before he moves towards the chair in the corner of the room that he’s claimed as his. Just as he’s about to settle into the chair, a nurse enters the room to check on everyone. She smiles at the sight of your baby boy in Steve’s arms and says, “You know, there’s a lot of benefits of doing skin-to-skin with your newborn. Especially for dad and baby. Helps to regulate baby, and is great for bonding with your baby. Wanna give it a try?”
You expect Steve to say no. Not that he doesn’t care or doesn’t want to, but you can count the number of times you’ve seen him with his shirt off in public on one hand. After his time in the upside down, he’s marred with scars. Deep ones that eat into his sides and pucker his skin, that are rough and not pleasant to look at. The first time he’d gotten up the courage to take off his shirt at the pool, scars still fresh and pink, he’d gotten incredulous looks and nasty stares. He’d quickly learned that it was better to keep his clothes on to keep the questions to a minimum. He wasn’t ashamed, it was just easier that way. The only times Steve took his shirt off in public was if it was around people who knew what had happened, and even then, sometimes he didn’t want to. The scars were a reminder of all the shit they’d been through, and sometimes it was easier to pretend they didn’t exist. 
So, to say you’re surprised when Steve immediately agrees is an understatement. You watch in shock — and admiration — as Steve hands your son back to you for a moment so he can pull his shirt over his head. In fact, you’re not sure you’ve ever seen him remove his shirt so quickly, even after all your years together. The bite-shaped scars, though not as prominent as they once were, are on full display, still slightly pink and raised against his tan skin. If the nurse notices, she doesn’t say anything; she only smiles, suppressing a laugh as Steve trades you his shirt for your son. 
He takes him carefully, as if your son is made of glass and could break at any moment. He handles him so delicately it makes your heart burst, and you cradle Steve’s shirt to your own chest. Steve finally sits down, placing his little boy in his lap so he can unwrap the blankets and get him out of his tiny onesie. It’s so small that it nearly makes you cry, even more so as you watch your husband lift your son back up and lay him against his chest once the onesie has been set aside. 
He pauses for a moment, not quite comfortable in the chair yet, eyes flicking to the nurse in the corner of the room as he asks, “It’s not— he’s not gonna be too cold, right?”
“Not at all! Skin to skin is actually great for regulating a baby’s body temperature. He’ll be just fine.”
Steve considers what she’s saying and then nods, finally leaning back into his chair, holding your boy to his chest, “Yeah. Okay, yeah, that’s good.” For someone who had been almost as terrified about being a dad as he was excited, he’s taking to it quickly, just like you knew he would. You knew his insecurities had more to do with his parents than his own ability to be a parent, and so far, he’s already proving himself wrong. 
The newborn scrunch is in full effect, your son’s tiny limbs tucked mostly underneath his body against Steve’s chest. He looks content, and you honestly can’t blame him — Steve’s chest is also one of your favorite places to be. Your husband looks just as content; one hand covering the entirety of your son’s back, fingers behind his head for support, the other hand on his small, diaper-covered bum to keep him in place. Steve’s eyes flutter closed after a few moments, settling back into the chair comfortably.
There’s a Polaroid camera sitting on the bedside table next to you, and you reach for it so you can take a picture. You want to remember this. Not only for the sweet moment, but also for Steve’s clear and immediate love for his little boy. The noise of the camera is a lot louder than you anticipated, and Steve cracks one eye open, sending you the best fake glare he can muster with just one eye. It’s ridiculous and it makes you laugh behind your hand, not wanting to wake your sleeping baby. You murmur a half-hearted apology as the picture prints, not really meaning it. 
Steve snorts his own laugh, his chest moving enough for your little boy to grunt quietly in protest, shifting his position against Steve. Quick to soothe, Steve pats at his tiny back gently, pressing a kiss to the top of his head, “I know, I know, I’m sorry, sweetheart. Mama’s interrupting our quality time, huh? She had nine whole months with you, and she just has to interrupt us.” 
“Steve,” you giggle, shaking your head as you hold up the now developed picture, “I was trying to capture the moment!”
“Shhh, we’re bonding!”
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exhaslo · 7 months
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Kinktober Day 11- Miguel x Reader (Size Kink)
        Everyone knows that Miguel was a hard working individual. He did his absolute best to keep everything up and running. As the leader of the Spider Society, Miguel did so much. Almost so that it felt like he never really took care of himself. Miguel always looked exhausted and frustrated. The stress was eating him alive. It was not hard to see why.
        You had wiggled yourself into his life by chance. It took a lot of work, but Miguel opened up to you and started a relationship. You were always there to ease his stress. To calm him down with just a simple hug. Sometimes, you wished for more. You felt like Miguel was afraid of having sex with you. Like he needed to hold himself back. You knew that it was not healthy for him. Hopefully, today you could finally help him break out of that mold.
        You and Miguel had been dating for about three months. You were a smart cookie and figured out that he was Spiderman. The embarrassment on his face when you confronted him was so cute. Hopefully, you will get a new kind of embarrassed face today. You were finally going to try and get Miguel to let loose. You were going to treat Miguel and give him the best sex of his life...and yours. This was a first for you, but it has been long enough.
"Hey, Miggy!" You chirped as he entered your apartment. You embraced him with a kiss, "I made dinner, why don't you wash up first?" You offered. 
        Miguel replied with a soft grunt, wanting to hold you a bit longer. It made you happy every time since he lifted you off your feet, literally. Miguel was huge. You felt so small beside him. You knew it was cliché, but you loved making jokes about his height. Asking about the weather, letting him know that ladders don't exist for him, all the dumb things. Miguel let you since he loved how happy it made you. You hummed happily as you prepped a big portion for Miguel. He was a big boy and worked hard, he needed to eat a lot.
"Huele bien, cariño. ¿Cuál es la ocasión? (Smells good, sweetheart. What's the occasion?)" Miguel asked as he wrapped his arms around your waist. You shivered at his breathe against the back of your neck,
"Just wanted to treat you. You need a break," You replied, feeling his wet hair drip against your shoulder, "Sit and eat. I'll dry your hair,"
"Se supone que debo tratarte como a una princesa y no al revés. (I'm supposed to treat you like a princess, not the other way around.)" He said with a chuckle.
        You felt your heart skip a beat as he laughed. Why did he have to be so charming? Hiding your face in a fresh towel, you stole glances of your boyfriend. Miguel always treated you right, now you had to return the favor. You took a moment to stare at his broad back. Oh how his shirt defined his muscles. Wiping the drool from your mouth, you wrapped the towel around his head and proceeded to dry him off. You can have your fantasies later.
"How's the food?" 
"Delicious as always." Miguel gave his thanks.
        He looked up at you, wanting a kiss, to which you gave him. You removed the towel, watching as Miguel took his empty plate to the sink. His butt so perfect in those sweatpants. Oh, tonight was defiantly going to be for Miguel...but also for you. Watching your boyfriend return to the couch, you hopped over and landed on his lap. Your legs spread over his legs, attempting to trap him in place while you wrapped your arms around his neck.
"Miguel, I'm going to treat you well tonight, okay?" You seemed hesitant now, worried for your performance. Miguel held your hips,
"Are you sure?"
You pressed your crotch against his, grinding your hips through the fabric, "I'm sure." You replied, feeling his bulge already rising. Miguel lifted you up and carried you to the bedroom,
"Sólo voy a advertirte que tengo esta pequeña cosa. (Just going to warn you, I do have this one little thing.)" He warned, towering over you on the bed.
"Nothing about you is little," You teased.
        Miguel grumbled lowly. He wanted to warn you, but it might be best for you to find out. You watched as Miguel took his clothes off, following suit. This was the first time you were going to see him naked and visa versa. Your eyes almost boggled out of your head as you saw his cock. He was covering his face with his hand. You could have sworn he was hiding a chuckle. Miguel was totally laughing at you for staring at his monster of a cock.
"Little my ass," You teased once more, approaching him.
        Miguel watched you with a gleam in his eyes. Yes, you were little compared to him. He had been itching to fucking your tiny pussy with his large cock. To hear you cry from overstimulation as he stuffed you full. There was a part of him that wanted to break you, but he loved you too much. Miguel was worried that his cock was not going to fit, that he might hurt you. He hadn't even prepped you yet. Miguel let out a soft groan as your tongue licked his shaft. Your soft lips on his tip,
"Cuidado, cariño, no te hagas daño. (Careful, baby, don't hurt yourself.) He groaned.
        You glanced up at Miguel, your tongue swirling against his tip. You were going to treat him. Miguel was too kind to you. Honestly, you had every right to be worried. His dick was larger than your biggest dildo. Just the thought of him ripping you in half was making you soak. Placing your lips against his cock again, you did a soft sucking motion. Miguel's groans were making your body tremble. Who knew he could make such noises?
        You had to balance yourself and hold onto Miguel as you sucked him. Your other hand fingering yourself. Tears were forming in the corner of your eyes as you tried to take him deeper. His dick was already hitting the back of your throat and you were only half way. You moan as Miguel placed his hand on your head, gently moving you.
"Joder, eso es correcto. Chúpame la polla con esa boquita sucia tuya. (Fuck, that's right. Suck my cock with that dirty little mouth of yours.)" He moaned lowly, sending shivers down you spine, "Mírate siendo una buena chica para mí. ¿Estás disfrutando de mi polla en esa boquita tuya? (Look at you being such a good girl for me. Are you enjoying my cock in that little mouth of yours?)"
        So this was his little issue. Miguel was such a dirty talker, but it made you even more horny. You gasped as Miguel removed you from his dick. The look in his eyes was fierce. Lust nearly consuming him as his pupils dilated. He tossed you on the bed, hovering over you. He took your lips in a rough kiss, his fingers removing yours. You whined in response, but Miguel quickly turned those into moans as he entered one finger. He took your hand in his mouth, licking your juices off your fingers.
"Hah....hah....Mig...Miguel...I'm..." You grinded your hips against his hand, feeling your orgasm arriving. Miguel smirked as he pumped his finger, curling it to draw your orgasm out,
"Impresionante, ¿mi dulce ángel tiene problemas para tomar mi dedo? Tengo que prepararte para la comida principal. Voy a estirar tu bonito coño con mi polla, cariño. (Awe, is my sweet angel having trouble taking my finger? Gotta get you prepared for the main meal. I'm going to stretch your pretty pussy with my dick, sweetheart.)"
        Those words alone made you cum. Miguel's pupils were blown as he watched you drench his hand. He chuckled as he watched your face twist with pleasure as he added another finger. Your moans getting louder as you opened your legs wider. Miguel inhaled at the sounds you were making. Your little cries, your sexy moans and of course your throbbing pussy squishing at his fingers. Oh, you were going to look so pretty taking his cock in full.
"You're doing so good, baby. Cum again for me. Doing so, so good." He whispered in your ear, curling his fingers right at that sweet spot.
        You arched your back once more, crying out his name as he drew another orgasm out of you. So much for treating him. Trying to catch your breathe since you felt like your heart was going to burst out of your chest, you gasped at Miguel. He towered over you once more, cock in hand. You had to admit that you were scared, but also excited. Watching Miguel pump his cock with his own hand made you spread your legs out for him.
"Let me know if it hurts," There was your loving boyfriend poking out of his lustful state.
        You could only nod. Miguel positioned himself and started to poke his tip inside you. You gripped the bedsheets below you. He was so big. His fingers were nothing compared to his cock. Biting your lower lip, you tried your best to not cry out. Miguel wrapped his arms around you, whispering in your ear as he kept pressing himself into you. Your hips buckled, shaking as Miguel stopped for a moment. He was letting you adjust before continuing his entry.
"Eso es cierto bebe. Eres tan apretado. Sí, lo estás haciendo muy bien. Joder, te sientes tan bien acogiéndome. (That's right, baby. You're so tight. Yes, you're doing so good. Fuck, you feel so good taking me in.)" He groaned.
        You whimpered, holding onto him as he stopped. He kissed all over your face before looking down at you. You could see the sparkles in his eyes as he watched his dick almost completely engulfed by you. You felt it too. He was hitting you so deep that you were seeing stars. The pain was subsiding and all you wanted was for Miguel to start moving. Your fear had disappeared as you tried to buckle your hips. Miguel gripped your hips,
"Look at how good you're doing," Miguel grunted as he pulled out before slamming inside you.
        You nearly yelled out a moan as you felt him hit you deeper than he just was. Your breathing grew heavy as your vision started to blur. With each rough thrust, you felt Miguel getting deeper and deeper. You heard him grunt, complaining about him being almost fully inside you. How good you felt around his cock. How your tight gummy walls were just sucking him in. Everything he was saying was making you explode with pleasure.
"S-Tan cerca. Lo estás haciendo muy bien. Mira, estoy completamente dentro de ti ahora. Joder, qué bien. Envuelto alrededor de mi polla. (S-So close. You're doing so good. Look, I'm fully inside you now. Fuck, so good. Wrapped around my cock.)" Miguel babbled lowly, feeling himself about to burst.
        You whimpered another moan, cumming once more. Miguel kept asking for more, watching you break from overstimulation. He licked your tears away, enjoying your blissed out face. The cute lil 'o' you made with your mouth every time he hit your cervix made him hard. Tightening his grip against your hips, Miguel grunted once more,
"Fuck, baby. Bebe, cariño. Déjame ver cómo tu lindo y pequeño coño se llena con mi semen. (Drink up, sweeheart. Let me watch your pretty little pussy fill with my cum.)" He moaned.
        You cried out, filling Miguel fill you. The small little bulge your stomach made as he finished filling you made him grunt. As much as he wanted to stay inside you, having you wrapped around his cock, he pulled out. Another groan escaped his lips as he heard a pop from your pussy as he pulled out. His cum dripping out. Miguel picked you up, carrying you to the bathroom,
"Told you it was a small issue," You kissed the top of your head. You muffled a groan, resting your head against his shoulder,
"There is...nothing small about you," You laughed weakly. Miguel stepped into the bathroom with you between his legs, 
"Tienes razón, pero hiciste muy bien al acogerme. No puedo esperar a volver a ser tu más alto. (You're right, but you did so good taking me in. I can't wait to tower over you again.)" Miguel nibbled against your ear.
"Easy, big boy. Let me rest first, then next time...I will try and treat you."
"Haha, can't wait."
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gottaluvharry · 8 months
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family
carlos sainz jr x pregnant!reader
summary: your son has a few questions about why his little sister is in your belly, and carlos is happy to explain
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Lazy mornings with your little family were your favorite. You smiled to yourself as you woke to the hushed whispers of your husband and your son. As you turn to face the other side of the bed, you’re met with 2 pairs of brown puppy dog eyes and 2 identical smiles.
“Buenos dias, mama!” good morning mom your son screeched, proud of himself for using Spanish. “Buenos dias baby” you say through a smile. He latches on to your neck and you feel Carlos’ hand rubbing patterns on your stomach. “Morning hermosa” beautiful he says going in for a kiss. “How is little girl?” he asks. “Sleeping I think. She must be tired after all the kicking she did last night” you groan, recalling the many hours you were woken due to the relentless kicking in your stomach. “lo lamento, se amable con mami” i’m sorry, be nice to mommy he says leaning to talk to his unborn daughter. You just laugh and shake your head at the pout he has on his face, guiding him up by his chin to give him another kiss.
“Papa,” your little boy starts, breaking you and Carlos apart. “How did baby get in mommy’s belly?” he asks as he puts his hand over Carlos’ on your stomach. “Well hijo” son Carlos starts. “Me and mommy love each other, and we made your sister together because we love each other” he says, hoping it’s enough to settle your sons curiosity. “Like when you and mommy make pancakes together?” he asks, now moving to sit in his fathers lap. “No, not like when we make pancakes” he laughs. “He is just made out of love, baby. When 2 people love each other so much and want a little baby like you, they will make one. That’s all I can tell you” he says, avoiding a heavier subject. “But mommy, did it hurt when baby went in your tummy?” he now turns to you with fear in his eyes over the thought of you hurting. “No buddy it didn’t hurt” you assure him, ruffling his hair; but you don’t miss the smirk Carlos sends your way remembering the night in question. “So why does baby stay in mommy’s belly for so long?” he asks, now turning to look at Carlos for the answer. “That’s just where they grow buddy. Babies need lots of space to grow and the only place there is enough room is in a mommy’s tummy” he responds. “Oh” he hums, taking in all the information he’s learning. “But how does baby come out?” he goes on, his eyes lighting up when he gets another question. “When he is ready to come out me and Mommy will go to the hospital and the doctors will help her come out” Carlos answers. “But does it hurt?” your son asks, once again scared of you being hurt. “Only a little bit” you say, “but it is worth it because then we get to hold your little sister”.
As your son continues asking questions and Carlos continues tracing patterns across your stomach, you can’t help but smile at the little life you’ve created. Who knew one bed could hold so much love on a random morning.
—————————————
hope you guys enjoyed this short little blurb:) sorry it’s been so long since i’ve posted, there was a lot going on and then i started school but in honor of Carlos’ birthday AND pole today i figured i’d post something!! might clear my drafts out and post some more in the next week or so<3
also my inbox is open, so request anything if you have any ideas! or if you just want to talk to someone, feel free!
okay last thing, thank you all for the support, it’s so special to me to have people with the same interests reading and liking my work, i want to give you all hugs<333
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greatooglymooglyyy · 2 months
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Driver's License (Matt Sturniolo)
request:
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a/n: anon i love you so much, both of your ideas were so good. i hope you love this. i cut off the second part to gatekeep it till it comes out 💕 also ik in the song, it is the boys fault but i've done a few of those so I wanted this one to be on the reader.
contains: angst, fluff, breakup to makeup, abandonment issues, happy ending, kissing, cussing, 1.3k words
Three Months Ago:
“Okay, whoa. Don’t hit the break that hard. Ease on to it.” Matt says quickly, leaning forward a bit. I roll my eyes at his dramatics. “I barely pressed it, Matt.” I continue circling the parking lot slowly since he refuses to let me go over 5 miles per hour.
When a car enters the parking lot near me, I tense up but Matt jumps in. “You got it. You’re fine. They’re just gonna pass you.” He says, calmly, his hand resting near the steering wheel, just in case he needs to grab it. The car passes me and I relax, smiling over at Matt. “See.” He says, giving me a small smile back but then gesturing back out the window. “Look at the road, babe. Not me.” I snap my eyes away and focus back in.
“Pull into this one right here.” He gestures at a spot a couple of feet away and I turn into it, barely in the lines, and put the car in park. I wince and glance over at him, expecting him to talk shit, but he just smiles. “Not bad, baby. You wanna try to get on the street?” My eyes widen and he laughs and takes off his seatbelt.
“It’s okay. Next time.” He leans over and presses two kisses to my lips before opening his door so we can trade back. He comes around the car and opens the driver’s door, leaning in. “You’re gonna be coming through to pick me up in a second. Just wait.”
*********
I look down at the floor of the DMV and shake my head, trying and failing to push down my thoughts of Matt. Today is probably the hardest day without him I've had since we first broke up two months ago. Two months since I made one of the biggest mistakes of my life and didn’t even have the strength to try and fix it. Every time I think about the look in Matt’s eyes when I told him we were done, I want to crumble. So instead, I try not to think about it at all.
The attendant calls my name sharply and it snaps me out of my impending pity party. I quickly scramble over and take my license from her, muttering a quiet thank you. As I head back to my car, I can’t take my eyes off it. I always thought this moment would be so much bigger but it just feels empty now.
When I get in my car, I drum my fingers on the steering wheel for a second trying to clear my head. I squeeze my eyes shut trying to muster up something resembling self-respect before my heart wins out and I pull out my phone. This is a bad idea. I know it and repeat it to myself as I type Matt’s name into my Instagram search bar.
This has been a hard limit I set with myself, alongside not texting him or his brothers. I don’t stalk his Instagram like some psycho ex. Except apparently, I do today. And god, he looks good. His hair is longer than the last time I saw him, the ends curling up slightly. In his most recent post, he’s got a slight smile as he looks up at the camera but it’s the glint of something around his neck that makes my breath hitch. I scroll to his next post and zoom in to confirm it’s what I think it is and my eyes begin to water. He’s still wearing the necklace I got him on our first Valentine’s Day.
I close my phone and pull down my sun visor, staring into the mirror. Does it mean he still loves me? Do I still have a chance? Or does he just really like that necklace? I shake my head and push the visor up, throwing the car into reverse. It doesn’t matter. If there’s even still a fraction of a chance, I have to try.
*********
This was a mistake. I’m an absolute freak. I’m a loser. Why would I drive to this man’s house like everything’s fine? I put my head in my hands and count to three trying to calm down. I’ve been sitting outside of the triplet’s house for two minutes trying to get my nerve back but with every passing second I feel stupider.
Okay, it’s fine. This is fine. Before I can talk myself out of it anymore, I get out of my car and march up to their door. I knock twice, deciding that if they don’t answer in ten seconds I can run back to my car and pretend this never happened. I get all the way to eight before Chris swings the door open. We stare at each other blankly for a couple of breaths before Chris turns and calls for Matt to come down. He turns back to me, hardening his eyes. But he must see something in my face that makes him take pity because he just sighs before leaning in and whispering a low, “Don’t fuck this up, kid.”
As soon as Matt starts down the stairs, Chris turns and rushes back up, tapping a hand on his brother’s shoulder when he passes him. When he sees me in the doorway, Matt freezes momentarily, recovering quickly and setting his jaw. I take an involuntary step backward at the icy look he gives me as he leans against the door frame.
“Can I help you?” He asks. His voice has way less steel than I expected but the question still guts me. It feels like I’m standing in front of a stranger and not the boy who used to hold me every night.
“I just-” I start, biting down on my bottom lip as I try not to cry. “I got my driver’s license today,” I say lamely. I cringe slightly and he furrows his brow in confusion.
“Okay?”
“I just wanted to tell you that, I guess.”
“Alright. Thanks for the headline.” He says sarcastically.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come here.” I say, turning to retreat.
“That’s what you’re sorry for?” He demands, clearly angry now. “You’re not sorry for leaving me out of nowhere? For never answering a single one of my messages? For breaking my fucking heart?”
I swallow thickly and nod, stepping closer. “Matt. I’m sorry for all of that. I’m so sorry I hurt you. I promise you that was never my intention. I was just scared.” He laughs bitterly at that and shakes his head.
“No. You don’t get to use that excuse. Everybody’s scared. I was scared. You don’t get to just run when shit gets real.” His voice cracks a bit at the end and he runs his hand over his face. I reach out tentatively and place my hand on his arm. He locks eyes with me at the touch but doesn’t immediately snatch away.
“I wish I could take it back. I wish every day that I had just talked to you. And I understand if you can’t forgive me for that, Matt. I don’t know if I would either. But, I promise if you can, I’ll spend the rest of our lives proving that I’m all in.” His eyes search mine desperately for truth and I hold my breath waiting for his response.
“Tell me that you love me.” He says, quietly.
My heart jumps as fear floods my body. I’ve never said it out loud before. I exhale deeply, letting my eyes trail over his face. “I love you, Matt.” My voice is a little wobbly but I pour as much honesty as I can into those words, hoping he hears what he needs.
He nods, his serious demeanor still in place, and sticks out his pinky finger. I laugh wryly and lock our pinkies, sealing the promise.
Matt pulls me inside of the house and takes my face in his hands, kissing me so intensely that my body leans sideways. He pulls away, pressing another one to my lips quickly and then drawing me into his arms. I wrap myself around his waist, feeling like the weight of the world has been lifted.
“I missed you so much.” Matt’s voice grates against my ear as he kisses behind it. I slip my hands under his shirt before I pull back to look at his face and grin.
“Enough to finally let me drive you on the interstate?” I say hopefully.
“Absolutely fucking not-”
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arachine · 8 months
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*slides a big fat twenty your way* uh how about a part two of that non traditional family dynamics with gojo
dinner and a disaster . . .
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synopsis :: when your oldest daughter is at that age where boys are starting to become the focal point of her universe, you bring out the big guns — which in this case, unfortunately happens to be her father (who is not exactly the best when it comes to disciplining his little girls).
or, in other words, you and gojo play good cop bad cop.
genre :: fluff
contents :: co-parent!gojo, mentions of alcohol, heavy dialogue, time skip (the girls are 14 and 12 respectively), gojo is in distress !!!!
note :: link to part 1 + link to part 3
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it's 10 pm when you text gojo about the latest happenings going on in your household.
it's also 10:01 pm when you answer his incoming face time call.
he's wrapped up in a fuzzy blanket, laying down on his bed with a pillow under his chin and a hand propped up to support his head—he's comfortable, to say the least, and 100% tuned in to hear about whatever it is that you just texted him.
"is this what you've been doing all day?" you query with a laugh. there's a brief look of confusion etched onto his face before he picks up on what you were implying. rolling his eyes, he scoffs.
"it was my day off," he pouts, "can't a man relax in his fuzzy blanket?"
you squint teasingly at the screen, then nod slowly before mouthing an 'uh-huh'.
"i didn't call you to get berated about my choice of blanket!"
"okay, okay! i'm sorry," you grab a napkin from your nightstand, waving it like a white flag of surrender. "such a baby..."
"says the one who could never take...you know what, i won't finish that."
"smart man," you smile. "i want to be mad at you sometimes but it's almost kinda impressive how easily you can change the atmosphere...i mean, wow! it's record-breaking, truly."
"ha...ha. alright. i overstepped my bounds, i get it. can we just...can we just get back to our daughter? i'm starting to regret calling you on my day off—which, by the way, was going so great."
"great, love that we're on the same page," you give him a thumbs up through the screen. before you can get into the nitty-gritty of the situation, you take a brief pause to prepare yourself for the dramatics about to ensue—because if you know anything about gojo satoru, you know he's definitely one for the dramatics.
"when i tell you this...i want you to stay calm, keep a level head, and most importantly, i want you not to scream," you say, opening your mouth again to emphasize the last part, "and it's important that you especially won't scream, okay?"
gojo mulls it over before committing, "i don't know...it depends on what you're gonna tell m-"
"just—just promise, gojo," you interrupt, clearly agitated.
"alright, i promise."
"okay, so there's a boy..."
you're mid-sentence when gojo's eye starts to twitch.
"and she's expressed to me that she wants to go on a date with him." when you finish, you're half expecting him to yell, and half expecting him to end the call. but he doesn't.
in fact, he's so still, you're almost convinced he's frozen, but then he begins to smile. slow at first, and then all at once. it's creepy, you think, something straight out of a horror film.
"i know this was a lot of information to process, are you...okay?"
"pfttt, what? of course, why wouldn't i be?"
"well, you look scary. maybe i shouldn't have told yo-"
"SHE WANTS TO WHAT?"
and there it is. gojo satoru, king of dramatics.
"my little girl, my baby, my princess. she's only 10!-"
"she's 14."
"same thing, how could you let this happen?!"
"what happened to not yelling?! you promised!"
"oh be serious, i made a vow to you 14 years ago and look where we are now," he whisper-yells, trying (and failing) to contain his voice.
"dammit, you're right...well, at least we're on the same page! we both don't want this date to happen." when you take another glance at the screen, gojo's no longer laying down on his bed, but up and pacing around his room like a mad man.
you watch him for awhile, and when he doesn't seem to be coming back any time you soon, you call his name, "satoru."
"what?!" he turns to the phone. glaring at him, you wait for him to check his tone. "sorry, what?"
"i was thinking tomorrow you could come over for dinner? it'd give us a chance to talk to her about it...so that it's not just me telling her no."
"so, what i'm hearing is that you want her to hate me too?"
"no, i'm saying i want us to be a team. so, can you come over tomorrow? can you do that?" you ask, raising a brow.
"yeah, i'll be there."
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at the same time the oven alarm goes off, gojo arrives. you can see his car pull into the drive way from where you are in the kitchen, and you mentally curse yourself for not getting ready sooner.
"fuck, uh okay," you throw your oven mitts, "hon, can you get the door for your dad? i need to go upstairs and get changed."
the youngest gets up from her place on the couch, "sure, wait...dad's staying for dinner? what's the occasion?"
you're halfway up the stairs before you stop, "enough questions, please. just open the door, thank youuuu."
ambling from the living room to the foyer, she opens the front door. gojo smiles, and immediately lifts her up into a bone-crushing hug that only a dad could give.
"hey bug, missed you," he squeezes her, much to her behest.
"ugh, dadddd, put me down," she drawls, pawing at his chest. gojo frowns and puts her down, putting a hand over his heart as if he were shot.
"you used to love that, you know."
"yeah, when i was like five."
"are you not?" he teases, but she's not amused. he nudges her arm annoyingly until she begins to smile. "there we go, punk. now can i have a real hug? you're hurting my feelings."
like a true pre-teen, she rolls her eyes and reluctantly trudges over to him, then opens her arms up for a hug. at this stage, you've noticed that hugs are okay, but only when it's on their own terms—and you especially can't initiate them when their friends are around (you learned that the hard way).
when they pull away, gojo takes his shoes off and wanders through the house. "where's the other brat at?"
"upstairs."
gojo nods, "uh-huh...where's your mom at?"
"right here." gojo hears you before he sees you, and then he lifts his head up to see you at the top of the stairs standing behind the banister. before you make your way downstairs, you waltz over to your daughter's room and knock on the door.
"hey, dinner's ready. come on downstairs. somebody's here to see you." as you begin turning around, the door flies open and out comes your moody teenage daughter.
"who is it?" she queries, following behind you like a duckling.
from where he stands at the bottom of the staircase, gojo raises a hand and waves.
"hey, scrub."
"dad? what are you doing here?" your oldest questions, but still goes in for a hug.
"your mom invited me over for dinner, that cool with you?"
she nods, then turns to her sister. they exchange a knowing look that, if translated, would be: something's definitely up. they wait for you and gojo to head to the kitchen before having a quick debrief.
"you definitely did something," the youngest side eyes.
"wha-why would you think i did something? you're the one failing a class," she rebuttals.
"ok well...this isn't about me! they only get together when one of us does something. don't you see? they're teaming up...this is an intervention."
the oldest pinches the space between her brows, "i can see why you're failing english now, because the way you just jumped to conclusions like that is actually insane."
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dinner goes by without a hitch. for majority of it, you spend the time talking about work, school (which seems like a sensitive subject because the youngest wouldn't look either of you in the eye), and the plot of this hbo show with adult kids who're trying to take over their father's company.
gojo brings it up, of course, and jokingly says that the show was written with him in mind. he asks the girls if they'll fight over who'll inherit the company when he dies, and it turns into a i'm the better daughter debate.
when it gets a little too rowdy, you have to remind them that this is all hypothetical and that their father is a menace who likes to cause chaos whenever possible. gojo pouts and says you're no fun, but quickly fixes his face when he sees your pointed glare.
"come help me with the dishes," you say, and then disappear into the kitchen.
the two of you fall back into old habits. you wash the dishes, he dries and sets them on the rack. it feels like it did in the beginning, only this time, he'll be leaving when the two of you set out to do what you originally intended.
"dinner was nice," he says after about 10 minutes of comfortable silence. he doesn't look up, doesn't even make a joke about your cooking (which, you were totally expecting him to do). instead, he just continues drying the plate you handed to him.
"you know, you're welcomed to come again. you don't always have to be away in that apartment all by yourself," you start, choosing your words carefully, gently. "the girls like eating with their dad."
"i like eating with them too. i guess i'll start coming by more often then."
you almost miss it but there's a smile on his face, and it's genuine. instead of pointing it out, you savor the moment.
your reasoning for his coming here was to talk to your daughter, but it was also to get him out of the apartment. see, you were sneaky like him too, and what he didn't know wouldn't kill him. to you, this was just hitting two birds with one stone.
when you finish up, the two of you discuss the plan over for what seems like the 100th time.
"so, we're gonna go in there and be cool about it, okay? we won't hound her. we're just gonna tell her like it is, and then let her down gently. got it?"
"got it."
"after you," gojo extends his arm.
"wha-ugh, fine."
as you lead the way, gojo has to keep a hand on your back to keep you from turning back around. so far, you've attempted to retreat five times—you're two feet away from the kitchen entrance.
"will you just go?" there's irritation laced in his tone.
"okay, just stop pushing me."
"no promises, keep walking."
you sigh, but heed his request. with a hand still on your back, he guides you all the way to the living room. the girls are watching tv but quickly avert their focus when they notice you standing next to the couch with a freakish smile plastered on your face. gojo whispers in your ear to be cool and you immediately gather your wits.
"mom...your face...dad what's wrong with her face she's scaring me," the youngest pauses the tv.
"sweetie, will you go upstairs for a minute? your dad and i have to talk to your sister."
seeming to be catching on, she gets up from the couch and says a 'told you' to her sister before running upstairs. you and gojo share a look.
"what's up?" she asks, still weirded out.
"you see, well...we've been talking and..." you start, "your father has something he wants to tell you!"
gojo snaps his head towards you, gasping in the same motion. "hey, what the hell happened to being cool?"
"no promises, remember?"
"oh, you litt-"
"dad."
"sorry, uh, shit. i wasn't prepared for this. this wasn't the plan," he begins, "so, i heard there's a boy...and...you're at that age where boys are cute..."
she looks at the two of you in abhor and groans. gojo pauses briefly, but you encourage him to continue.
"and i've come to understand that you're interested in one and want to go on a date?"
"yeah."
"oh...okay well, i—we just don't think that's a good idea. you're 14, in school, and honey, you're so young...you have your whole life to be interested in boys."
"wait, what do you mean 'we'?"
"your mom and i talked about it and-"
"mom said she was fine with it."
gojo smiles in shock and then blinks, once, twice, three times.
"we'll be back," he announces, pulling you by the arm to the kitchen.
when you get to the kitchen, he releases your arm and pinches the skin between his brows. it takes all of about five seconds before he erupts.
"'we're a team, satoru', 'we're in this together', bullshit! you wanted me to be the bad cop, didn't you?"
"not initial-"
"didn't you!"
"okay, sorry! i may have...gave in when she asked, but i figured you'd be able to tell her no!"
"why would you think that!? she's my little girl!"
"she's my little girl too!"
gojo walks over to the cabinet and pulls out a glass. "i can't right now, i need a drink. what do you have?"
opening another cabinet, you pull out a bottle of pink whitney. gojo sucks his teeth. it was such a girl drink, but it was all you had so beggars couldn't be choosers. shrugging, he raises his glass for you to pour the drink into.
grabbing another glass, you sit down and join him.
"we've been had, huh?"
"how is that?"
"because we both can't say no to her."
gojo raises his glass to his lips and swallows it all down in a few gulps.
your daughter goes on a date the following week, and gojo starts looking into trackers.
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© arachine 2023
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kingtomura · 21 days
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Cat and mouse
synopsis: Your ex boyfriend has some nerve texting you at three in the morning — an entire week after the disaster breakup you had. You should really go over there and give him a piece of your mind. Well, you know what they say about famous last words.  wc: 6.1k | crossposted to ao3 content: tomura shigaraki x female reader, no quirks au, toxic tomura, reader is kinda toxic too tbh, unhealthy relationships, breaking up and making up, vaginal fingering, overstim, breeding kink, piv, dubcon creampie, degredation, threats of baby trapping, hurt/comfort, sweet at the end idc
You’ve told your friends time and time again to stay out of your business. They never listen. 
“Oh my god, Kirishima? Is he even twenty yet?” You drag as you watch your friend flip through several pictures of the redheaded boy like he was a member of the bachelor. 
She smiles, scrolling her phone for more options, “no, but he will be in a couple of months!”
“No!” Your words are sharp. You love Mina but god, you don’t want her to play matchmaker with you. It’s not like you’re a charity case or something. 
She gasps and you swear you could see the lightbulb go off above her head. “What about Denki? He’s fun!” 
You groan, falling back onto the bed and covering your eyes with your arm. “Mina.” 
“Hey, just give her a break okay? It’s only been about a week.” Your saving grace Yaoyorozu speaks up and it’s nice to finally have someone on your side. 
“Thank you.”
“Seriously? So we’re just going to sit around and watch you mope about all day?” Mina questions, irritation clear in her voice and it grates your ears.  
“Preferably, yes! Just let me be.” You roll over, face officially shoved into your pillow. It’s been a rough couple of days and you haven’t gotten a single call or text from Tomura. Not that you should be expecting one. You broke up with him after all. 
It’s just.. this time feels different. Usually there’s more arguing and he’s fighting for you to stay around, but this time there was nothing. No quips, no insults, just “fine, get out then.”
That hurt the most. 
You had no idea what he was up to. 
Maybe he was as depressed as you were. 
Maybe he’s found someone else. 
The thought makes you stop in your tracks. The idea of Tomura, your tomura with someone else is enough to make you nauseous. 
You jump to your feet and rush to the bathroom, locking yourself in and falling to your knees. 
God, what if that was why it was so easy?
You pull out your phone, the device lighting up and unlocking with your facial id. 
Tomura doesn’t use social media much but you could still check to see if he’d blocked you. 
To your surprise, he hadn’t. 
He hasn't posted anything either and there’s no new person in his followers. 
You feel yourself exhale a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding. No change is a good thing. 
There’s knocking on the door and you thank the stars you locked it. Your friends would judge you so hard if they saw you lurking through your ex’s social media. 
“Hey, are you okay in there?” It’s your saving grace Yaoyorozu again and you almost feel bad for shutting her out. 
“Yeah, I’m sorry if it feels like I pressured you! I’ll give you some space.” Mina's regretful voice calls and it makes your heart clench. You know she means well but she just doesn’t understand. None of them do. 
Whether you want to admit it or not, you love Tomura. 
Yes, you argue and yes, you fight, but he just gets you. He’s so cynical, but so caring — in his own special way. Too bad he was such an asshole. The argument wasn’t even supposed to go that far. 
There are tears beginning to blur your vision and you wipe them away, willing the feelings down and standing to your feet. 
If he wanted you to stay away, then fine. You could do that. 
You splash cool water onto your face and take a breath, steeling yourself and getting ready to face your friend once more. It was Saturday and they were convinced you needed a fun girl’s night.
It takes a lot to refrain from cringing at the phrase, but you believe they held some truth with the idea. You definitely didn’t want to be alone right now.
You unlock the bathroom door, meeting Mina and Yaoyorozu’s worried expressions with a smile. 
“We should probably get ready now, huh?”
Mina’s eyes light up, smile blinding and excitement contagious.
“Yes! Jirou and the others are here now.” She starts to clap, excitement buzzing around her, “Girl’s night is going to be amazing!” 
—-
Girl’s night was a bust.
The moment everyone arrived the apartment quickly filled with chaos. Noisy and busy, it was all giving you a headache. Until someone decided it would be a good idea to pregame before going out.
In preparation for the night your friend’s insisted that you get dolled up, hair makeup and skimpy clothes you wouldn’t look twice at on any normal day. 
You had to admit it made you a little more excited to get out and at least feel like your world isn't crashing around you. It was supposed to be a fun little night out. Somehow one drink turned into two, which turned into three which turned into Mina swearing she could beat everyone in a dance battle. 
The group only got more riled up as everyone indulged in this silly challenge. 
One challenge leads to another, which leads to more drinking, which then ends in everyone being too drunk to function and knocking out — all laid out in odd places around your living room floor and couch. 
The groggy feeling came first, your arms radiating in dull pain as you vaguely recalled trying to beat Mina in a contest of who could do the most push ups. It sure as hell wasn't you, but the drunk version of you thought it was possible to move mountains. 
You blink a few times, trying to will your eyes to rapidly adjust to the darkness of the room and find out what this odd buzzing noise beside you had been. Turning over, you find your phone, squinting as the too bright screen lights up your face and you see that it is three a.m.
You had fallen asleep with everyone else.
The phone buzzes again, lighting up and you have to squint further to read the contact name.
Tomura. 
Your eyes widen as you scan over the three texts he’s sent you. 
Wasting no time, you rush to your feet and into the bathroom so you can look at your phone without the chance of prying eyes overlooking your shoulder. Even though they were probably going to be out until late morning.
Tomura’s messages were short, no paragraphs, no essays but three different messages sent in succession. 
When are you coming to get your shit?
I’m tired of waiting.
And I’m deleting our farm btw. 
The first two messages don’t get much of a reaction from you, especially since it’s three a.m and he knows you’re usually asleep around this time. 
But the third message…
Your Stardew Valley farm that you’ve had and worked on together for almost two years being put on the line and threatened? What the fuck was his problem?
This farm was a constant in your relationship. Throughout the ups and downs and back and forths. You were sure that hell would freeze over before you both would give up that progress. But here he is, threatening you while you would have been asleep. What an asshole.
Your feet are moving before your brain can stop them and you make your way to the front door. Since your friends were all passed out it would be easy to sneak over to Shigaraki’s place, give him a piece of your mind and then sneak back. In and out, quick and easy. 
Your decision is made and you grab your coat, deciding to just go over there as you are. You hadn’t changed out of your outfit that was supposed to be for the night out, but it didn’t matter. You only needed to get over there and get there fast.
Once you arrive at Tomura’s doorstep you waste no time knocking. It’s around three in the morning so he should still very much be awake. 
There's a chill in the air as you wait for his answer and you wrap your jacket closer to your body. A rumble of thunder caught your attention and it's then you notice the rain clouds rolling in. You knew it would only be a matter of time before the bottom of the sky falls out and rain drenches everything. You were on borrowed time if you wanted to make it back before then.
After what feels like forever the door finally opens, revealing a very cozy pajama-clad Tomura, who seemed a little too pleased for his own good — if that sly smile he was doing a bad job at hiding was anything to go by. 
You don't give him a chance to greet you or say anything for that matter, stopping his words in their tracks as you cut him off. “What do you want?”
He doesn’t bother hiding his smirk now, the expression making your fists clench and your anger boil. “What do I want? You’re at my door, in front of my apartment.” He scoffs, clearly getting the exact reaction he had wanted from you, “I should be asking what do you want?” 
Caught like a deer in headlights. Whatever, you don't let that stop you as you pull out your phone to show him his text. “You sent this, I know you’re bluffing. What do you want?”
Tomura shrugs, leaning against his door frame and giving you a pleased look. Expression relaxed and content. Not a care in the world. “To talk.”
“Well, I'm here now, so let’s talk.” You spit, crossing your arms and waiting for whatever else he would throw at you. 
“Sure, but you should come in first.” He starts, looking up towards the darkened sky, confirming his assessment. “It’s gonna rain soon, you know.”
Of course you knew that. 
You just didn’t want to give him more time than you had. But you agree and go in, ignoring the fighting feeling in the back of your mind screaming at you to turn away and hightail it out of there. 
Tomura’s home is the exact way it was the day you left, give or take a few more containers of takeout littered around the place. You have half a mind to scold him about it, but quickly remember that it isn’t your place to do that anymore. 
So instead you stay quiet, following him into the apartment and into the living room. Opting to stand as he sat, and resisted the urge to get comfortable. 
“So, what do you want to talk about?” You try, done watching him pick up a controller and boot up a video game. Seriously? 
Your patience was wearing thin now as you watched him ignore you to play some stupid game. You try calling to him again, knowing this was probably a waste of your time and groans.
“I was in the middle of something before you got here. Let me finish and we’ll talk.” It's flippant the way he waves you off and continues the game. The lack of care only hurting your feelings further and making you realize this may have all been a big mistake on your part.
You shouldn’t be at your ex boyfriend’s house being ignored. You should be at your house getting drunk and hanging out with your best friends. There was no reason to stay somewhere you’re obviously not valued.
It’s a simple choice when you put it into perspective. 
But things are always easier said than done. 
You sigh, the air puffing out your cheeks, a bad habit you had when angry, and walk right in front of Tomura’s TV. There was more satisfaction in making him lose the game and then announcing your departure than just leaving quietly. 
He cranes his neck to see around you, but it doesn’t work, finally giving up as his character inevitably dies. “What!?”
“I’m leaving!” You announced, turning on your heel and heading towards the front door.
“You had to make me lose first? I said I was almost done!” He spat back, rising from the couch to follow you.
You shrug, “I don’t care. Why invite me in if you’re just going to ignore me?”
“Didn’t think you had the patience of a child.'' Tomura stands in front of you, cutting through your path and stopping you in your tracks.
It's almost comical the way he insults you. “Okay pot, meet kettle.” You try to brush past him, but he side steps with you. 
“What are you dressed like that for anyway? Did you go out tonight or something?”
“No!” You deny, a little louder than intended and then pause. “But it’s none of your business what I do anyway.”
Tomura hums at this, taking the words in and running them through his mind as he gives you a once over, eyes scanning from the too-tight shirt you wore — showing a generous amount of cleavage, down to your mini skirt that left little to the imagination. 
“Could've fooled me.”
“What do you mean by that?” You hate when he gives you cryptic answers, like it’s impossible to pry into his mind to see what he was thinking at the moment. 
“You knew you were coming to see me so I dont get why you're wearing that skimpy shit. Unless you wanted me to check you out.”
“Not everything is about you, Tomura. Maybe I just wanted to dress up and look nice.”
“Bullshit—”
“God, Tomura you always fucking do this!” You yell, walking right up into his face. The excitement in his scarlet eyes sends a chill up your spin, but you can’t back down. 
He gets closer, matching your tone and you can still see the grin he’s trying to hide. It makes you see red. “Do what? Tell you the truth? You know I’m not wrong.”
“Yeah, you think you know everything, but you don’t. I’m dressed up because I want to be, not because of you.” You’re insisting at this point, frustration threatening to tip over and spill out into the form of another pointless argument. Why did you think you could actually come over and have a decent conversation with him?
Tomura is a master at getting under your skin and hitting where it hurts. In all of your arguments he’s never really pulled out the big shots but you wouldn’t put it past him to do so now. 
“Oh, so you come over to my place dressed like a slut and you expect me to believe you don’t have some hidden motive?”
And there it is.
Your last straw. He could be so egotistical and mean — you’ve had it. 
You regret it the moment you do it, but your body moves before your brain can process your actions. You push Tomura. Hard. 
He doesn’t fall back far but you know it’s enough to piss him off. And he’s never been one to hold anything back, so he shoves you back and your back hits the wall. 
Tomura has you pinned before you know it and there’s a thrill that runs through your body in a way you know you shouldn’t be feeling. Your knees feel weak for reasons that are not related to fear and your panties were gradually becoming more wet. 
His voice is low and his eyes are narrowed as he pins you against the wall, pressing your cheeks together with his other hand. “You’re really starting to piss me off.”
You have to bite back a smile, knowing this has taken a turn and you aren’t strong enough to stop where it’s going. Not that you would want to. 
“Oh yeah? If I piss you off so badly then why are you hard?”
He doesn’t look down. He can feel his own arousal just as well as you can while it’s pressed against your abdomen. 
Tomura pushes off of you — maintaining some distance as he turns away. 
“You’re fucking annoying.”
“Sure am.” You supply, chipper and certain as you trail behind him. 
He’s walking further into the apartment, and you follow. Legs moving on their own accord as you go further into the lion's den, exchanging quips and insults. You jab your finger into his shoulder, bothered by the way he continues to ignore you, it's a pathetic attempt at catching his attention and it works. Kind of. 
The only response being him slapping your hand away with a glare and muttering a soft fuck off as he walked on. 
You both went back and forth. Like the sun and moon, you just can’t stay away from each other.  
It was how these things usually went between you and Tomura. He would start up, make a petty argument and you would never back down. Tomura is someone who was used to getting his way and others simply did what he said with no objections. 
But that was not how you were.
And he loved it.
You knew by the way he would get that devious glimmer in his eye when you would challenge a point, starting up a debate. Sometimes they were heated enough to make you both break up. It never lasted more than a few days. A week being the longest.
Push and pull. 
Tomura made his way past you again, ignoring your calls about how you hate being ignored. At this point you’re sure he’s doing it on purpose to rile you up more but you can’t help but take the bait. You grab his shoulder, forcing him to turn around and face you as you point a finger in his face. 
“Stop walking away from me!” 
He grabs your wrist and pulls you closer, making you stumble on your feet and almost lose balance. You were so close you could feel the heat from his body and smell the fresh linen scent of his shirt. “Don’t tell me what to do.” 
You snatch your wrist away from him, tension between you two growing hotter by the second as the space between you got thinner. 
“What are you going to do about it?” 
The narrowing of his eyes only made your grin grow wider as you watched the gears turn in his head as he thought about just how many things he would do about it. All of it enticed you, so you beat him to the punch. 
You reach forward again, fully intending to shove his shoulder again for another reaction, another glare, maybe even more words, but he stops you. It was fast, the way you both tumbled through the hallway as Tomura crashed his lips to yours. The relief of finally feeling his lips again meshed with the excitement of how rough he was with you. 
You lose yourself in the kiss, welcoming him in with open arms as you vaguely register the dark walls of his room and posters plastered along the walls in your scuffle.
It was exciting, probably the best part of breaking up and making up. At this point you think the whole point of falling apart is coming back together again. An endless cycle where the reward is worth the punishment. 
Cat and mouse. 
You end up on top of him, straddling his hips while your smug smile beams down at him. Tomura gives you an unamused look in return, yet the way his hands rested on your thighs gave away the ill hidden interest. It was all the encouragement you needed as you leaned down, hovering above him with both hands on his chest. 
“Not so tough now, are you?”
It’s bait. You know it’s bait, he knows it’s bait, but he takes it anyway — the way you knew he would. 
Tomura wastes no time flipping the both of you over, quickly reversing your positions as he settled himself between your legs. It’s dangerous the way his actions riled you up further, and you have to bite your lip to keep the smile from betraying your false anger. You couldn’t let him know how excited you were to be back in his bed. 
He presses your cheeks together and rocks your head left to right, tone mocking and eyes wild with fever, “Oh, look who’s become a firecracker all of the sudden. Where did that flame come from, huh?”
You want to respond, but Tomura beats you to it, releasing your cheeks and pointing a nimble finger against your forehead, “Don’t be dumb.”
His eyes trail from yours and then down to your lips, then finally down to your exposed cleavage. The movement was swift as he cupped one of your breasts in his hand and dipped down, claiming your lips again. It was softer than the first time but not by much, especially not when he matched his pace by grinding his clothed erection into you, making you moan at the contact. 
Your skirt was so short and it made you feel even more exposed than you already were. Tomura had easy access to you and the thin fabric of your panties made everything feel so much closer. 
You moan at the contact, swiping your tongue against Tomura’s bottom lip and wasting no time deepening the kiss as you pull him closer. You needed more and you needed it as soon as possible. 
Tomura pulled the low cut front of your shirt down, easily exposing your breasts from the confines of the shirt and massaged them, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles against your nipples and making you cry out from the sensitivity. 
He pulls away from you, eyes gazing into yours and you swore in that moment he put you in a trance. Tomura’s ruby red gaze always left you mesmerized and you can’t help the whimper that leaves your lips, brows furrowed and eyes wanting, “Please.”
“Please what?” And he’s not taunting you, he’s not mocking you. His eyes are soft as he brings a hand to your cheek. “Tell me what you want.”
“You.” Fuck, you’ve missed him. “I just want you.”
There’s a hint of a smile on his face as he strokes your cheek, soft look in his eyes making your heart flutter, and then it’s gone. Replaced by a hardened gaze as he moves to remove your shirt and bra, fully exposing you to his hungry eyes, and then moves to remove your short skirt. 
His hands hover there for a moment, debating whether or not he should keep it on and fuck you in it, but then decides against the idea and pulls it off, taking your soaked panties down with it as well. 
The air in the room feels cool against your skin as you shiver in anticipation. 
“Fuck,” Tomura whispers, now eye level with your cunt. You gasp as he runs two fingers between your wet folds and holds the digits up to show you. Syrupy clear slick clung to them, slowly trailing down as Tomura rose back up, eye level with you once more. 
“You’re so wet…” He murmured, bringing the digits to your mouth and you opened, taking them into your mouth and tasting yourself. You kept eye contact as you watched his eyes widen in delight — Tomura loved it when you put on a show for him.
There’s another moment of Tomura pressing against your tongue with his fingers and then he pulls them out, opting for a kiss in exchange, his tongue dipping into your mouth and groaning  as he could taste what’s left of your slick on you as well.
The pleasant feeling and linguid action of your movements made your shoulders relax as you practically melted into his soft bed, the feeling of his body above yours bringing you mountains of comfort. It was a distraction, of course. 
You felt the same two of Tomura’s fingers prod at your slick entrance before pressing in fully and all the way down to the knuckle. The stretch was intense but the pressure was euphoric, making you squeeze your eyes shut and grip him closer. 
He didn’t make you wait long as he pumped his fingers, quickly finding that sensitive spot so deep inside of you that only he could pinpoint and brushing against it over and over. 
The feeling was so good it made you pull away from the kiss to breathe, thighs twitching and toes curling in pleasure. You wouldn’t last long like this.
“Tomura, fuck..!” You moaned, drowning in ecstasy as he continued his abuse of your spot, never letting up or slowing down, aiming to make you cum as quickly as he could. It was obvious he wanted you to come undone as soon as possible by the way he watched your every expression. 
The way your brows furrowed to the way you bit your lip. Tomura eagerly drank every expression and gave it back to you in the form of pleasure. 
“What?” He started, unphased by your dilemma, “Gonna cum?”
It took a lot of focus and effort, but you nod — done with fighting for the night and accepting the fact that you will come apart quickly. So you give in to the pleasure. 
Tomura smiles, a devious grin splitting his features as he curls his fingers, hitting the spot one more time for good measure and you lose composure, your climax crashing into you like a tidal wave. There was nothing you could do besides ride the feeling while holding on to Tomura tight — like you would get swept away if you didn’t. 
He fucks you through it with his fingers, eyes never leaving your face as you come down from your high. 
“Pent up, huh?” He questions, and this time there is that little hint of teasing. It brings you back to reality. 
Yes, you have been pent up. You haven’t been able to get off to anything since you’ve broken up and it’s been hell. 
You have no time for the games, you just want him and you want him now. 
So, you take Tomura’s face in your hands, making him look you in the eyes. The flecks of black in his carmine eyes always makes you remember why you come back. Every single time. 
“Fuck me, please, Tomura.” It's soft and filled with desire that you cannot be bothered to hide, and Tomura has never been one to deny you.
He quickly discards his own clothes, making sure to not stay away from you for long. His cock is hard and leaking precum from the head as he strokes it in preparation. You feel giddy at the thought and watch as he slides the head of his cock between your folds, coating it with your slick, and rubbing against your clit. The action makes your hips twitch up towards him. 
He loves to tease and make you wait, but today he doesn’t make you wait long. Tomura leans down after lining himself up with your entrance and places his free hand behind your head, right above the nape of your neck. His hands were warm and the feeling of those hands cradling your head felt so comforting in the space of his familiar dark bedroom. 
You bring a hand to his hair, tangling your fingers in his ashen locks as he pushes forward. The stretch makes you whimper and Tomura captures your lips in a kiss again, swallowing the noises and releasing a groan of his own as your walls tighten around his cock. 
There's something about the way Tomura drags his hips, the way he starts off at a slow pace, winding you up as he steadily increases his speed and force. It happens so gradually that you don't realize you’re screaming his name until he tells you to shut up — threatening to cover your mouth because he didn't want his neighbors to hear how much of a slut you were.
It drove you mad the way he said it all with a smile and fucked you harder. Almost daring you to be louder so he can punish you with a hand over your mouth.
Tomura knew how rough you liked it and he always delivered, giving you back arching pleasure as he pounded into you. It leaves you gasping and struggling to keep your voice down. Your hands find the surface of his back, trying to hold on as much as you could with building pleasure on the horizon. 
“Tomu— Tomura..! Please,” you cry and he doesn’t miss a beat, driving his cock so deep against your sweet spot it makes you see stars. “Fuck..!” 
“Yeah, that’s it.” Tomura cooed, eyes filled with mischief as he brought you closer to the edge. “Cry for me.”
And you do, your body feeling euphoric as the feeling buzzed up your spine and filled your brain with the fuzz of ecstasy. 
“What are you gonna do, huh?” He starts, his hips grinding against you, the closeness of his pelvis rubs against your clit, making you cry out again, “What are you gonna do when I breed this pretty cunt and make sure you’re stuck with me forever?”
He’s bluffing, you know Tomura doesn’t want kids. He’s just trying to gauge your reaction. Your dedication. 
“Tomura…” You only moan, breath catching as he hits that spot inside you that he knows so well. 
Tomura is smiling, wild and devious, as you look up at him with glossy eyes, so close to crying from the feelings, “I’m gonna do it. I’ll make you mine forever and you can’t do anything about it.” 
“Ah!” You should stop him, tell him to calm down but he has your eyes rolling to the back of your head and your back arching off of the bed. Everything is blurring together and you can only slur words as the drool from your earlier kiss trails down your cheek. 
You are completely at his mercy like this and you know your friends would be beyond disappointed.  
It just feels so good the way his cock drags in and out of your body pulling moans and whines from your throat. He was relentless in the way he pounded into you — beyond the point of being soft and slow because he knows that’s exactly you like it. 
“Say you want it.” The command comes with the slowing of his hips and you whine, high and needy as Tomura slows to a near stop.
“Tomura, I—“
“Say you want it or I swear to god I’ll stop right now.” It’s a threat and you don’t want to find out if he’ll go through with it. Tomura never goes back on his word. 
“No, please, don’t— I want it!” you pant, frustrated and aching for more movement.
“I want you to,” you stammer, desperate to have your release. “I don’t care if you cum in me. I need you so bad.”
“That’s my girl,” He coos, dipping his head down onto your shoulder, “Fuck.. love you s’much”
You stop — you’ve never heard him say that. Ever. You doubted he would ever say it since it’s been so long. 
He doesn’t give you a chance to ruminate on it because he's picking up the pace again and giving you the friction you were so deeply in need of. The feelings are swimming in your head as your cries reach new heights. Tomura is too far gone to stop you or care and you’re thankful. You couldn’t stop yourself if you tried. 
The build of your orgasm crashes down and sends you with it, making your thighs quiver in pleasure and your eyes squeeze shut. Tomura’s mouth meets yours before you could cry out, the warmth of his tongue guiding you as he fucked you through it. 
He didn’t last long after, the way your walls tightened around him with the force of your orgasm has Tomura’s pace erratic as he chased his own high. 
The bed shook as Tomura finally finished, hips stuttered as he released inside of you, hot seed coating your insides and making heat rise to your cheeks. He really did it.
You watch as he slows to a stop above you, his eyes closed as he enjoys the feeling of release. Tomura’s breathing was heavy and you couldn’t stop yourself from bringing him down into another kiss, traveling from his lips to his cheeks and then back again. 
It was intimate and you were worried it may have been too much, given the reason you were both in this situation was because of a stupid breakup. 
Tomura’s pulls out of you, making you wince and taking the feeling of being so full away from you. He doesn’t go far, opting to stay on top of you and rest his head on your shoulder, wanting to keep you as close as possible. 
“You really piss me off.” He mumbles into your shoulder, out of breath and tired. “God, why can’t you just stay with me.”
“Tomura…” Your hands run through his hair, the sweat is making it stick to his forehead as you wait for him to keep talking. 
“Stop leaving me.” His voice is firm, unwavering.
“You told me to go.” 
“I didn’t think you fucking would. I would never actually want you to.”
“I can’t read between the lines Tomura, I’m not in your head.” You make him look at you this time, pulling his hair a little to get him to raise his head. “Did you mean it?”
“I just said I didn’t—“
“No, the other thing you said.” He gives you a look of pure confusion and you lose a little bit of hope, “when you said you loved me?” 
You stare into his carmine eyes, hoping, praying it wasn’t just pillow talk from the heat of the moment. 
He looks at you for a long time, frustration still wearing on his features. If you didn’t know any better you would say he was pouting. “Of course I meant it. I’ve always felt like that.”
“But you’ve never said it!”
“I show it!”
“How?” This is getting frustrating and going in circles. 
He groans, sitting up and taking his warmth with him. “I’m not going to sit here and list everything I’ve ever done for you. I don’t think it works like that.”
You open your mouth to counter, irritation on your tongue because that’s not what you meant, but Tomura stops you again. 
“I don’t know how to explain it, okay?” He shakes his head and sighs, laying next to you on the bed and looking up at his ceiling. “It’s weird. I have these strong feelings, but it’s not hate, it's not anger. It's the opposite of that.”
You stare at him as he focuses ahead, keeping his eyes trained on the uninteresting ceiling above.
“Father said it’s a weakness and I should feel that way but,” There’s a pause as he looks away from the ceiling, meeting your eyes finally, “if it’s so weak of me, then why are the feelings so strong?” 
Your heart aches. It's clear that he’s torn, and with the strange way he was raised you know that he can’t help the way he is. 
“Tomura…” 
“And it won’t go away. I can’t fight them down or push them away like I can with everything else. It eats me up and I… guess I lash out because of it.” He shakes his head and for the first time Tomura looks defeated. You’ve never seen him this way — he’s always been filled with confidence and self assured. “I just don’t know what to do.”
You bring a hand to his cheek as you press your forehead against his. It kills you that this is what’s been on his mind and you aren’t sure what you could do to fix it. Maybe there was nothing you could do, physically, but you would do your best to be there for him emotionally.
“Sometimes,” you try to be careful with your words, knowing how much Tomura looks up to his foster father even though the man has been nothing but strange to him. “People say things that aren’t true because they don’t know how to live with it.”
Tomura’s guardian cannot live with love nor the idea of it. 
“That doesn't mean you have to live that way.” 
And it’s the truth. 
Tomura doesn’t say anything, just watches you with heavy lidded eyes, ruby red nearly glowing in the low light of the room. He was so much more than what people thought they knew of him and you didn’t care if it took time for others to see that.
He leans in, closing his eyes and you meet him halfway into a kiss. 
It's warm and it's soft and you know that even when your phone is buzzing from dozens of missed calls and texts from your friends, it will be fine. 
You and Tomura would take things one day at a time.
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probably-writing-x · 8 months
Text
Missing Piece.
Summary: can you do conklin!reader x conrad where since she’s the oldest sibling, laurel had so much expectations for her and she held a lot of responsibility to the point where she couldn’t even enjoy being a kid. this is gonna sound sad but let’s say conrad chose belly over her but he was really just confused about what he wants which was reader but since her and belly are so similar, he chose belly and the reader had a big argument that led to her being the bad guy and all the stress caused her to just leave cousins and cut contact with everyone. Flash forward like 2 years ( reader is in college and everyone else is beginning college soon ) reader comes back to cousins and everyone is shocked to see she has a son 😭 it doesn’t have to be conrad’s i was thinking it could be like an ex boyfriends or one night stand’s BUT yeah she comes back with a whole kid and she’s so grown now. ( you can add a lil stepdad conrad if you want 😮‍💨 )
Warnings: Discussions of toxic family relations, mentions of unplanned pregnancy
Author’s Note: I’m sorry this is so long but I took this idea and RAN with it! Hope y’all enjoy plz plz plz let me know what you think
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You always knew how your little sister Belly had felt about Conrad when you were all growing up. For as long as you could remember, she’d been head over heels for him. She laughed a little harder at his jokes, remembered a little more about everything he said. She loved him.
You weren’t exactly sure when your feelings for Conrad had started, however. He’d always just been a friend. The boy you spent every summer with as the two of you were responsible for babysitting the rest. He’d always just been Conrad. But lately that had felt like it was changing.
The worst part about it all? You couldn’t even tell him how you felt. For the fear of breaking your little sisters heart was worse than letting your own break right in front of you.
“Are you even listening to me (y/l/n)?” Conrad stretches out a leg to kick you from where he sat on the other end of the couch and you look up from your book to see him.
“Um,” You clear your throat, “No, I didn’t hear a word you said.”
He rolls his eyes at you, “I asked if you were coming to the party tonight.”
“Oh, yeah, I hadn’t thought about it,” You shrug, “Is everyone going?”
He shrugs his shoulders, “I haven’t asked everyone. I’ve asked you.”
You smile in return, “Yeah, sure, I’ll come.”
He stretches forward and grabs the book from your hands, “What are you reading?”
“Con!” You exclaim, reaching over his legs to try to grab the book from his hands, “Give it back.”
He laughs and holds it high over his head, away from your reach as you fall forward, hand catching yourself on his chest.
You look up to his eyes and he’s looking down at you with a smirk on his lips.
“Can you please give me my book back?”
“I could,” He returns, the pages still tight between his grip.
“Okay, will you?”
“What’s in it for me?”
There’s something about the way he says the words. Hoarse in his throat, almost catching on his tongue, foreign tone to hear from his lips. You feel the heat increasing in your cheeks and try to ignore it.
“Nothing, just give it back,” You groan, stretching far up enough that your fingertips brush the pages and he eventually releases the book from his grip.
You compose yourself and return to your side of the couch, trying to ignore the deep heat coursing through your cheeks.
“Hey!” Belly’s voice sounds from the doorway as she comes in, “I’m not interrupting am I?”
“No, no, of course not,” Conrad stands up quickly from the couch, “Are you ready to go?”
Belly nods, “Yeah, sure. Are you coming (y/n)?”
You force a small smile in their direction, “I’ll be there in a bit.”
“(Y/n) I really need your help tonight,” Your Mom, Laurel walks into the room in their absence, “We’ve got so much to set up for tomorrow so I’ll need your help with it all.”
You set your book down and look up at her, “Actually I think there’s a party tonight that everyone’s going to so I sort of had plans.”
She brushes you off, busy looking at something on her phone, “Well just cancel your plans.”
“It’s a party, Mom, everyone’s going,” You roll your eyes, “Can’t I just help tomorrow morning?”
“Can you please not make this more difficult than it needs to be?” She shakes her head at you, “You’re eighteen now, aren’t you too old for those kinds of things?”
“Right, yeah, eighteen is the cut off point for having fun,” You stand up from the couch.
“(Y/n) wait!” She calls after you, “I need you to go to-“
“The store, yeah, I just got the list,” You wave your phone in your hand, “(Y/n) Conklin at your service.”
Your relationship with Laurel has never been ideal. You were the oldest of the three of you and so her expectations for you seemed far beyond what she wanted from the others. She was more patient with them, more understanding. You didn’t get that. They got a childhood and you got the responsibility of looking after them. They went to the fair? You had to make sure they all came back in one piece. They went to a party? You had to be the designated driver and make sure neither of them drank too much. Something important going on? They got to be kids whilst you dealt with it like an adult. You grew up too fast and she was to blame for that - her expectations tainting any form of childhood you could’ve held onto.
You step outside and start walking towards your car, pausing when you hear the sound of laughter from the others. Conrad has Belly in his arms, lifting her up from the ground as the other boys try to grab her legs. He’s holding her tight, a bright smile on his face when he looks at her. They’d had that tradition for years. Since you were first coming to Cousins. But you were never a part of it. Because whilst they grabbed Belly and ran her to the pool, you had to help your Mom carry in the luggage and set up everyone’s rooms. Traditions, right?
“(Y/n)!” Jeremiah yells over to you when he catches sight of you, “Are you coming later? We thought we could go to the store and get some drinks before we go.”
He walks over to you and the other boys follow behind.
“Um,” You drag a hand through your hair, glancing at the house, “I can’t come tonight, I’ve got stuff to help my Mom with here.”
“Oh come on, you’re so boring,” Steven groans, “You never come to parties.”
Right, because I’m too busy picking up the slack for you and Belly.
“Yeah, sorry, Laurel’s orders,” You shrug, “Maybe next time.”
“Can you at least stop at the store and use your fake? Thank youuuuu,” Steven yells back as he heads back towards the pool.
You roll your eyes, forcing a smile to the Fisher brothers, “I’ll see you guys later.”
Conrad frowns a little at you, “You sure you’re not coming?”
You shrug your shoulders, “I’ll be designated driver, you can just call me when you need picking up.”
He smiles faintly and watches as you head towards your car, your shoulders dropping as you let out a sigh. Laurel’s orders.
———
You spend the night helping your Mom and Susannah set up for their charity event before you eventually get a text from Steven asking you to come get them.
You drive across the town to the other end and pull up in front of the house, texting them to say you’re outside.
Only Jeremiah and Steven step out though.
“Thanks for coming,” Jere smiles, sitting in the back seat, “You’re a lifesaver.”
You frown at the two of them, “Where’s the rest?”
Steven laughs, “Don’t get us started.”
“What’s going on?” You ask, glancing back in the mirror to catch Jeremiah’s face, watching as his jaw clenches.
“Conrad and Belly disappeared together,” Steven explains, “They were all over each other, and then the next minute we couldn’t find either of them.”
“So-“ You clear your throat, words seemingly catching on your tongue, “So you don’t know where they are?”
“They’re together, they’re fine,” Steven shrugs, “But god I’m dreading hearing that story tomorrow.”
You swallow the lump in your throat and lock eyes with Jeremiah who just shrugs his shoulders at you. He was your counterpart in this. Him in love with Belly despite his brother. You in love with Conrad despite your sister.
“Can we go?” Steven nudges you, “I’m starving.”
The three of you drive back in relative silence apart from Steven hiccuping every five seconds, until you reach the house and you pull up on the driveway. You make sure to shut the door quietly behind you so that Laurel wouldn’t complain in the morning and the two boys disappear into the kitchen.
“(Y/n) can I eat some of your-“ Steven calls out loudly.
You stick your head around the doorframe of the kitchen and shush him, whispering back, “Eat whatever you want as long as it’s not the food for tomorrow.”
He salutes in your direction and you roll your eyes, walking through into the lounge and collapsing down onto one of the couches. Your Mom would kill you if Belly didn’t come home tonight, and especially if you didn’t have any clue where she was.
So whilst the boys eat and reside to their bedrooms, you wait.
-
It’s around three am when you hear the door open again and two hushed voices coming through into the silent house.
“Is everyone asleep?” You hear Belly whisper and you glance up from the couch.
That’s when you see it. His hand intertwined with hers, his flannel shirt around her shoulders, both of their eyes alight.
“I think so,” Conrad hisses in return as the two of them walk towards the stairs.
She steps up ahead of him but he pauses on the bottom step, glancing into the lounge where his eyes lock with yours. You don’t look away and neither does he, so you watch as he swallows the lump in his throat, his hand dropping from its grip on Belly’s.
You look away then, turning over on the couch so that your back faces them. It’s such a quick response isn’t it? Five seconds and now your throat feels like it can’t breathe air, and your eyes are pricked with tears threatening to spill. You let out a shaky breath and grip firmly onto the cushion beneath your head, your chest feeling tighter and tighter.
———
The following morning you wake up to the sound of voices in the kitchen and you groan at the sudden realisation of how uncomfortable the couch really is.
When you walk through, it’s your brother and sister.
“She’s alive!” Steven laughs, “What happened to you last night?”
You drag a hand over your face, “I-“ Your eyes shift to Belly who’s stood with the faintest smile over her face as she sips her coffee, the look of a girl in love, “I was going to stay awake to make sure Belly got back safe but I must’ve… I don’t know, I must’ve fallen asleep before she got back.”
“Oh, yeah, sorry, we were pretty late,” She clears her throat, “I mean, I was- we weren’t-“
“Come on Bels everyone saw you and Conrad together,” Steven scoffs, “You didn’t exactly make it discrete.”
“Well, I-“ Belly laughs a little, “We just-“
“I don’t think I want to hear this,” Steven groans, “Please spare me the details.”
He takes a cup of coffee from the counter and walks out, his shoulders hanging low.
You take a deep breath and turn back to your sister, pausing for a second. Something about her seems so different - like she’s a whole new person. One piece of her life fallen into place and she was… happy. You swallow the lump in your throat.
“So, you and Conrad,” You mention, your back turned to her as you pull out a pancake mix from the cupboard.
“I don’t even know how it happened,” She shakes her head, “I mean, you all know I’ve had a crush on him since I could remember and then he told me he wanted us to be together and I-“
“He wants you to be together?” You half-choke out the words, your hands feeling weak, your heart numb.
“That’s what he said,” She nods, “We still need to talk about things but yesterday seemed pretty official.”
You blink a couple of times and take a deep breath, pulling your shoulders back a little, “That’s great, Bels, I’m happy for you.”
Before you can say anything more, Conrad walks through into the kitchen, pausing when he sees the two of you.
“Oh, um, morning,” He offers a small smile, letting out a breath.
You nod in greeting, “I’m going to leave you two to it.”
“(Y/n)…” Conrad speaks quietly as you go to leave, his hand reaching out towards you.
You look up at him and there’s a shift in his eyes, a difference in the way he looks at you. Like he knows everything and nothing about what he’s done.
“Never mind,” He shakes his head.
And you’re gone.
———
You don’t see them for the rest of the day. In fact, you don’t see anyone. You go down to the beach at some point in the afternoon and swim in the flat waves and return to the house hours later with damp hair. Your Mom makes a comment about how you need to look presentable for this evening.
You’ve showered and are sat on your bed wrapped in a baggy hoodie and shorts straightening your hair when there’s a knock on your door.
“(Y/n) can I come in?”
It’s Jeremiah.
“Yeah, of course,” You shift on your seat and he steps inside.
“I just wanted to see how you were,” He perches himself on the edge of the bed, looking at you through the mirror.
“I’m okay, this event should be good,” You lie through a smile, fixing the hair around your face.
“(Y/n)…” He frowns at you, “You don’t have to lie.”
“Wh-“
“He broke your heart,” He confirms for you, “And she broke mine.”
You laugh a little, “Well that makes us sound sad, Jere.”
He smiles gently, softly, “It’s okay for you to be upset about it. You don’t have to put on that facade like you normally do.”
“I just-“ You shake your head, “I can’t be upset. I’m happy for Belly, she’s loved him since forever.”
“(Y/n),” Jeremiah waits until you turn around to face him, “You’ve spent your life being happy for Belly, it’s okay for you to let yourself once wish that you were happy for you.”
You look down at the ground and back up, shaking your head a little as tears pool at your eyes, “I just really thought it would be me.”
Instantly, Jere jumps from the bed and hurries over to you, engulfing you in his arms as you bury your head into his chest.
“I did too,” He mumbles as he runs a hand up and down your back.
“God, I’m so stupid,” You laugh, dragging your hands under your eyes, “I need to stop this before tonight.”
He pulls back and holds both of your shoulders, “You’re going to get dressed into your best dress, and you’re going to look beautiful, and we’re going to drink, and drink some more, and we’re both going to forget all about last night. How does that sound?”
You nod your head, “Okay.”
“Okay,” Jeremiah grins, “Now cheer up before you make me cry too.”
You laugh softly, watching him disappear before you let out a shaky breath, turning back to yourself in the mirror and setting your shoulders back to fix your posture.
You could do this.
———
By the time you come downstairs, the house is flooded with people all in attendance for the event. The garden doors are open and people have spilled outside, all mingling between each other as Susannah goes around to greet everyone that she can.
You take a glass of champagne from the tray in the kitchen and tip it back until the liquid empties down your throat, and you grimace a little at the taste.
“Woah, take it easy Conklin,” Steven raises his brows at you as you refill your glass, “You never drink.”
“Yeah, well, it’s a party isn’t it?” You shrug your shoulders, tipping back another glass.
“Who are you and what have you done with my sister?” Steven laughs.
You go to respond but your eyes fall on the pair just across the room. The girl’s fingers fixing the bow tie around the boy’s neck, her hands settling onto his chest soon after, a smile on her face. Belly and Conrad.
“They seem pretty-“
“Yeah, I know,” You respond quickly, “Made for each other.”
“I was going to say full-on,” Steven grimaces, “It’s weird.”
You shrug, “Maybe they’re happy.”
You swallow the lump in your throat and try to ignore the tightening in your chest, sure that you could leave at that sight alone.
How could you do this? How could you be normal with them when it was like this? How could you spend every day with them?
“I can’t be here,” You shake your head, “I need some air.”
You grab a bottle of tequila from the liquor display and take it with you outside, sipping from it before you’ve even got to the garden.
It’s colder as the sun is already setting but another sip of tequila seems to take the edge off just a little, and its already going to your head.
You start making your way around the perimeter of the pool, your steps a little off balance as you teeter across the edge.
“(Y/n)?” Belly’s voice calls from the doorway of the house, “What are you doing out here?”
Your foot spins you to face her and you catch sight of her at the door, a black jacket wrapped around her shoulders. The sight makes your heart sink into your stomach, churning your insides.
“Come on, Mom wants you to mingle wit-“
“I don’t care what Mom wants,” You reply harshly, swigging back the tequila once again.
“Wh- what are you talking about?”
“I’ve done my bit, okay? I’ve done more than my bit. She can leave me alone for one night,” You roll your eyes, “Just one fucking night.”
“What’s going on with you (y/n)? This isn’t like you,” She wraps her arms around herself, the jacket tightening across her shoulders.
“Is that… is that his jacket?”
The rational part of you is unsure as to why you even ask it. But the tequila is almost a third gone now, and you’re not sure the rational is what’s in control anymore.
“We- yeah, he gave it to me to come outside,” Belly confirms, “What’s that got to do with-“
“Did you know I liked him?” You interrupt.
“(Y/n) what-“
“Answer the question,” Your words are harsh, too harsh probably, “When you kissed him last night, when he told you he wanted to be with you, did you know that I liked him?”
“Come on, you know how I’ve felt about Conrad, how I feel about him,” Belly shakes her head, “This isn’t ab-“
“About me? Right, of course it’s not,” You scoff, stepping towards her, “Because god forbid things don’t work out the way Belly wants them to, right? God forbid we’re not all making sure that you’re happy and that things are going your way. God forbid anyone else get a fucking happy ending!”
You know you’re raising your voice, you can tell from the way she flinches as you speak. But that doesn’t seem to matter anymore either.
“You wanted him and so you got him. And me and Jere? We don’t matter, do we? We’re just thrown to the curb so that you can be fucking happy,” You half laugh, “I gave up everything for you, Belly. For you and for Steven, I gave up my whole fucking childhood. I couldn’t be a child because you two needed to be them instead. So I grew up, I stopped going out so I could do chores for Mom, chores that you missed because you were too busy with Taylor or at volleyball or failing your fucking classes. I did it all! I gave up everything. And the one thing it felt like I had was… him.”
You choke out the last word and feel the tears prick at your eyes.
“Conrad was the only one that understood, the only one who knew what it was like to feel responsible for your asses,” You scoff, “And… I gave that up too.”
“You didn’t give him up, (y/n), Conrad chose to be with me!” Belly defends, her voice breaking.
By now, the small crowd in the garden has started to increase to hear what was going on, people slowly starting to trail out of the door until you see the familiar faces.
“Girls, can we try doing this somewhere else?” Susannah steps outside, trying to smile for the guests gathering around.
“(Y/n)!” Laurel hisses, hurrying down to where the two of you stood, “Can you control yourself please? There are guests here!”
You look at her and let out a scoff, “My fault, of course.”
“You should know better,” She mutters to you, faking a polite smile for the people watching.
“Yeah, maybe I should, Mom,” You nod, fighting back your tears, “Excuse me.”
You step away from her and Belly and push your way across the garden, towards the side of the house, past the outdoor shower.
“(Y/n)!” Conrad’s voice approaches from behind you.
You keep walking in your direction, refusing to be interrupted until you feel the grip of his arm around your wrist, turning you around.
“Get off me, Conrad,” You pull away from him but his grip remains.
“Talk to me (Y/n)!” He exclaims, “Talk to me, tell me what’s going on.”
“Tell you what’s going on?” You laugh, “Like you don’t fucking know!”
“l do- What do you want me to say?” He looks frantically between your eyes, dropping his hand from your arm.
“I want you to tell me that it’s Belly you want,” You snap, “I want you to tell me that you feel the same way about her as she feels about you.”
“It’s- I mean… it’s complicated.”
“It fucking shouldn’t be!” You yell back, “You chose her, you should know how you feel about her.”
“Chose her? What… you…”
“Yeah, you fucking chose her!” You push his chest, “I was right fucking here Conrad! I was right here! I’ve always been here,” Your voice cracks and tears spill over your cheeks.
Conrad holds your hands over his chest, like he wants to hold onto a piece of you, “(Y/n) I didn’t know.”
“You didn’t know,” You step back, sniffing, “Of course you didn’t.”
“(Y/n)…” His voice trails off as he sees you, the broken version of you that he seemed to cause.
“It’s always been her, hasn’t it? She was Laurel’s favourite daughter, she was the more popular one at school, she’s Susannah’s favourite, she’s… she’s yours. And I was there to just… drive her home, cook her dinner, let her cry, buy her shit to make her feel better. I was just… there.”
He doesn’t speak, watching the way you seem to shrink into yourself at the words.
“I’m never going to be good enough, am I? For Laurel, for this family… for you?”
“(Y/n) please…”
“I’m sorry, I just… I need to…” You clear your throat, dragging a hand through your hair before you hurry inside.
———
You don’t get much sleep that night, instead running over a thousand options in your head before settling on the only one that makes any sense - that you need to go.
By five, you’ve packed up your things into a bag, checked over everything twice to make sure nothing was left behind, and grabbed your keys to head downstairs. The house is silent, and littered with the fancy aftermath of the party. You glance behind you once more and step outside, fleeing towards your car.
“(Y/n)!” Even the sound of your name rings through a trauma from the night before.
You turn around against the bright morning light to see Conrad jogging towards you.
“What are you doing?” He asks you, a frown on his face.
“I’m…” You clear your throat, “I’m just heading out.”
He looks down at the bag in your hand and his shoulders drop, “You’re leaving.”
You take a deep breath, “I… I have to Con.”
“(Y/n) please,” He reaches forward and takes one of your hands into his, “I need you to know, I- I didn’t mean to hurt you. I never wanted that.”
You pull your hand from his grip and cup the side of his face, your thumb brushing his cheek, “Con, I know you didn’t. But, I can’t stay here like this. I can’t be here. Okay?”
He looks away from you momentarily and back up to your eyes, his seemingly losing their hope.
You brush away the strands of hair around his forehead, “I’ll see you around, Fisher.”
—— 2 Years Later ——
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Carmen asks you, perched on the edge of your bed, “I mean, seriously, how long has it been?”
“Two years,” You confirm, folding up another top to put into your bag, “And I think it’s a terrible idea, but I’ve got to bite the bullet eventually.”
“How do you think they’re going to react?” He persists, “Do you think they’ll be mad?”
“Um,” You take a deep breath, “Maybe. I think it’ll be a shock more than anything. I just, I want them to see me, you know? And, look, Jere never did anything wrong. He’s reached out to be a thousand times and I want to be there for him today - that’s all I care about.”
“And who can be mad at a little face like this?” Carmen looks down at the small bundle wrapped in his crib, peacefully asleep for now.
Your son had been born two months ago. You and Carmen had been dating through your first year of college before you fell pregnant. You’d split up only a few weeks before you found out you were expecting, but the two of you had managed to successfully co-parent so far. He came to all of your appointments, asked far too many questions, slept on the spare room in your dorm when he was worried about you, and had held your hand all through the delivery. Since then, you’d managed to both fit your schedules around taking care of your baby. He worked weekends and you worked evenings, he stayed in your dorm when he knew you needed to sleep and you both avoided a fair bit of socialising so that you could be there for your son. It worked. And, more than anything, you were the happiest you’d been.
“Alright little man, be good for Mommy okay?” Carmen lifts up your son, Kylo, from his bed, “I’ll see you soon.”
He sets the baby into his car seat and fixes the straps around his chest.
“I’ll help you get him in the car,” Carmen encourages, following behind you as the two of you leave the dorm and head down towards the parking lot.
He fixes the car seat into its slot in the car, checking it twice before he steps back.
“Alright, I’ll let you know if it’s a disaster and I’ll be driving back tonight,” You laugh a little, “And if you get an SOS text from me please put your foot down and get there as soon as you can.”
Carmen chuckles, squeezing your arm, “It’s going to be fine, okay? They love you and they miss you.”
You nod, “Let’s hope so.”
“Drive safe,” He steps back, letting you get into the drivers seat.
“Wish me luck,” You smile, waving goodbye as you reverse out of the parking spot.
It had been two years since you’d seen the Fishers, and even your own family. You’d left that day at the beach house and not returned. There were countless calls from your Mom, and Steven, and Susannah and Jere. But nothing from Conrad and Belly. You’d moved your things out of your home shortly after and moved into college as early as you could. It has been good for you.
The first big milestone was when you didn’t go home for thanksgiving. All of the family would be at Cousins and you told your Mom you couldn’t make it. The same again at Christmas. Eventually, a few months after, Laurel had stopped trying. She knew you needed your space, as much as she resented you for it. You’d kept in touch with Steven, and Jeremiah still spoke to you as much as he could. But none of them knew about Kylo. You weren’t ready for that yet. This was your son, you’d done it without them then and you could still do it without them. But he deserved to have them in his life. So, when Jeremiah had invited you to his graduation, you’d agreed.
It couldn’t be as bad as it was two years ago, right?
———
As soon as you arrive in Cousins, you stop at the hotel room that you’d booked for the two of you. Sure, you were okay with being here, but that didn’t mean you wanted to stay at the house.
You shoot Jeremiah a text to tell him you’re near and he tells you he’ll be waiting outside. You text Carmen to tell him you’re already considering turning back.
There was just something so strange about seeing these streets again, these houses, these places that held so many memories. And, as you near the water, the house that held more memories for you than anywhere in the world.
True to his word, as you pull up into the driveway, Jeremiah is waiting on the steps for you.
He hurries straight over to the car before you’ve even stepped out.
“Oh my god it’s so good to see you!” He grins, wrapping his arms around you tightly.
“You too Jere, I’ve missed you,” You squeeze him in return, “Thanks for inviting me.”
“Wh-“ His face drops a little when he catches sight of the seats in the back of your car, “Why do you have a-“
“Um, yeah,” You laugh a little, “I might’ve forgot to mention I was bringing a plus one.”
You open the side door to the back seats and unclamp the car seat from the chair, lifting it out.
“Jere, this is Kylo,” You let out a shaky breath, “My son.”
Jeremiah’s face drops, dumbfounded, “Oh m- I mean I- Congratulations! He looks exactly like you.”
You chuckle, “I’m sorry I didn’t mention him, I just didn’t know how to say it over a text.”
Jeremiah shakes his head, “Don’t apologise. Come on, nobody’s home, you can come inside.”
He takes your baby bag from you as you carry Kylo into the empty house, a flood of memories hitting you as you do. Nothing had changed here and yet everything had changed with you.
“Do you feel like you’re ready to see everyone?” Jeremiah asks, sitting down beside you on the couch.
“Not in the slightest,” You shake your head, “But I can’t wait any longer.”
“You’re right,” Jeremiah nods, “From what I’ve heard, they’re all just ready for you to come home.”
You smile, lifting Kylo out of his seat, “I’m ready for him to have a family too.”
Jeremiah wraps an arm around your shoulder and squeezes.
“Oh shit, I think that might be their-“ He stops himself, “Yeah, that’s them. Are you okay?”
You take a deep breath and shift your position on the couch, “I’m okay.”
You were far from it. You were sure your mind was racing a million miles a minute, and every muscle in your body was tense. You were sure Kylo could feel it too, whinging in your arms. Part of you wanted to run, but you’d done enough of that two years ago. Not anymore.
“Hey, Jere, who the hell is parked in the-“ It’s Steven’s voice first, “Oh my fucking god!”
He runs into the lounge and freezes instantly, his eyes widening, his mouth agape.
“Hey Steven,” You smile, standing up from the couch.
“You- uh- you…”
Your Mom, Belly and Susannah walk in shortly after, all of them stopping just as your brother had.
“(Y/n)…” Belly looks at you like you’re a piece she’s been missing, “It’s so good to see you.”
“Is this…” Laurel looks down at the boy in your arms.
“This is Kylo, my son,” You look up at her, “Your grandson.”
Her face both lifts and falls at the same time, unsure of what to say.
“Can I?” Laurel asks you, looking down at him, and back to you.
“Of course,” You hand him over, fixing his head into her arms.
Laurel gasps at the contact, smiling gently down at the boy as her eyes fill with tears.
“I’m-“ You clear your throat, no apologies, “I know it’s been a while. But a lot has changed, and I want you to be a part of his life. I want him to have his family.”
Belly steps forward and stretches her arms out to you, stepping once more to engulf you in her arms, her head burying on your shoulder.
“I’m so glad you’re back,” She whispers, sobbing a little into your neck as she tightens her grip.
You smile and hug her just as tightly back, “Me too. I’ve missed you.”
“Alright alright don’t leave me out,” Steven groans, squashing both of you in a hug of his own, towering taller than both of you now.
Belly pulls back and sniffs and you lift your hands to her cheeks, wiping her eyes.
“We’re okay, okay?” You nod at her, the same phrase you used to tell her when the two of you ever argued as kids.
Belly nods, squeezing your hands, “Okay.”
“Oh honey,” Laurel passes Kylo to Susannah who takes him with a bright smile, before your Mom turns to you, “I don’t even know what to say. I had no idea that you… I mean I didn’t even… I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.”
You shake your head, “It was me too. We both needed the space, right? We all did.”
She shakes her head too, “I’m just so sorry, I should’ve been there.”
You smile, “You’re here now.”
She steps forward and hugs you too, feeling so much smaller against you than she ever did before, perhaps you just feeling taller.
“You’re a Mom,” Her voice breaks against you, “I’m a Grandma.”
You chuckle and step back from her, “So much to catch you up on.”
Susannah hands Kylo over to Belly as he gets passed around to the waiting arms and she wraps you in a hug of your own, whispering something about how this family had missed you and it hadn’t been the same without you there.
But there was still one piece missing.
You sit down on the couch and Laurel and Susannah sit on either side of you. Belly, Jere and Steven all sit on the coffee table across from you as if they can’t possibly be too far away from you.
“I can’t believe you’re back in Cousins,” Belly smiles, “This is surreal.”
You chuckle, “Yeah, it’s weird. I just couldn’t miss watching Jere graduate.”
He grins, “I’m just glad you accepted the offer.”
Belly passes Kylo over to Steven who holds him as if he’s the most fragile object in the world.
You laugh a little at the sight, pulling out your phone and snapping a photo of the pair. You’d send it to Carmen later - a little sign of ‘hey, my family haven’t completely disowned me’.
“Okay, I have to ask the questions,” Laurel squeezes your arm, “How did this happen?”
“Well, Kylo was born about two months ago. I was dating a boy called Carmen in my first year of college, possibly the nicest guy ever but we realised we were better as friends. And a bit later I found out I was pregnant. He was there the whole time, don’t worry, and we’re surprisingly really good at co-parenting,” You explain, “I know it’s not conventional but, god, I think I was made to be a Mom.”
Steven laughs, “Yeah you got that from raising us three idiots,” He glances to Jere and Belly.
You grin. You’d never considered that when you were growing up. That mothering those three, losing so much of your childhood. It was setting you up for this. For mothering your own child, for bringing him up in your own way.
“He’s a pretty chill baby too,” You comment, “Like sleeps through the night, only wakes up once for a bottle. He even sits into some of my classes.”
“You’re still carrying on with college?” Laurel looks at you slightly shocked.
“Of course, I’ll just graduate with a toddler on my hip,” You beam down at your son in Steven’s arms, “I don’t need to lose my life because I’m taking care of him.”
Laurel looks at you with tears in her eyes before dropping her head to rest on your shoulder, like she’s trying to keep as close to you as she can. You don’t tense under her touch.
———
Later in the day, Jere, Belly and Steven have gone to the store for supplies and Susannah is setting up some bits for Jere’s graduation.
“Hey, do you need any help with anything?” You ask Laurel as she walks into the kitchen, “Kylo’s just had his bottle so I’m free if you need me to help.”
He’s strapped in a wrap to your chest napping against you.
“Oh god no you relax, we don’t need you to help,” Laurel encourages, “Sit down or something.”
“Come on Mom, I can help. What do you want me to do?”
She looks at you and sighs, “I think I spent 18 years asking you to do far too much, maybe I need to be making up for that.”
You clear your throat, “I don’t think that’s how it works.”
“I know, I know it’s not,” She shakes her head, “I just… I don’t even feel like you’re my daughter anymore. You’re so grown up, it’s like… you’re too much of an adult to be mine.”
You nod, “Yeah, well, a lot changed.”
“I hate that things got to the point where you felt you had to leave. I mean, I know everything happened with Belly and Conrad but I was just as much to blame, wasn’t I?”
You run your hand over the wrap across your chest where Kylo lay, “I never got a chance to be a kid, Mom. Not properly. It felt like my whole life Id been running one step ahead of them all so that I could catch them before they fell, shaping my whole life around making sure that they were in line and okay and that I was doing enough for you and for them but also making sure my whole life was perfect so that you weren’t disappointed and… it was draining.”
Laurel looks at you with a pained expression, her shoulders dropping with the weight of realisation.
“I went to college to get away from every shitty feeling that all of that gave me. I got away to finally be my own person, for once in my life just think about me,” You smile, “And it was good for me. I healed. I went to a therapist, I cried, I figured out my shit. I’m a different person now but I’ll always be your daughter. And I want Kylo to have his grandma.”
“I want that too,” Laurel beams, “(Y/n) I… I know I never know how to say these things but I’m so proud of you, honestly.”
Before you can respond, the front door clicks open and your head whips around quickly, expectant of who could be walking through.
“He’s at work,” Laurel comforts you, “He’ll be back tonight.”
“I-“
“I’m still your Mom, I know these things.”
You laugh in response as the other three all come into the kitchen, carrying bags of groceries.
“Oooh here Kylo I got you a present,” Steven rummages through the bags to find what he was looking for and eventually pulls out a small brown teddy bear, “Just securing my spot as favourite uncle.”
You grin, taking the bear, “Thank you Uncle Steven.”
“Oooh, we’ve got the beer in the trunk,” Jeremiah reminds him.
“Shit, yeah, we’ll be right back!” Steven says and both of them hurry back out.
“Beer?” You raise your brows at Belly.
She laughs, looking down at the bags, “Yeah, Steven managed to get a fake.”
“Of course he did,” You shake your head, “Want some help unpacking?”
“No, no, I got it,” She encourages, “You’ve got your hands full.”
You wiggle both of your hands in front of her, “The perks of this thing is that both of my hands are free, Bels. Don’t tread on eggshells around me, honestly.”
“Okay, this one is light,” She pushes one bag towards you.
Both of you potter about in silence putting away their food and it’s as if neither of you wants to break the comfortable quiet. This was the most time you’d spent together in two years, and you felt like strangers to each other.
“So, how’s everything going with you?” You ask her, turning back to the kitchen island.
“I’m good,” She nods, “I’m not…” Belly clears her throat, “I’m not seeing anyone.”
You laugh, “Did you not know how to tell me?”
She smiles and hits your arm, “It’s awkward, okay?”
You chuckle at your sister, somehow catching such a glimpse of yourself in her expression.
“We actually… me and Conrad… we ended things not long after you left,” Belly clears her throat, “It was for the best.”
“Bels I didn’t…”
“Don’t worry, it wasn’t because of you. I just think Conrad never really knew what he wanted, and maybe I didn’t either. I thought I was in love with that boy since I could remember, but I don’t think that was love. It was just the idea of him.”
You nod, “Well, younger Belly would probably thank you for figuring that out. But, tell me, is there anyone new on the scene?”
Before she can respond, the boys come tumbling in the front door again and you watch her eyes follow Jeremiah as he moves towards you both. There’s a brightness in them, one you’d only seen in your own when you were with Conrad. That was the feeling she was looking for.
“Jeremiah?!” You mouth to her and Belly widens her eyes at you in warning to not say anything more.
You raise your hands in surrender but give her a somewhat approving look, one that makes her cheeks ignite.
This was a pocket of home that you’d missed. One you didn’t realise you needed. Your siblings, this house, your family. It would always be important to you. And something about it felt even more magical now that you got to experience it with Kylo.
———
You find yourself focused on the sound of the door as if you can wish it to come sooner. Though you’re not sure why. You want to see him but you have no idea what to say to him. You have so much to tell him but you’re not even sure he’ll want to see you. Did he still hate you? Had he ever hated you? Would he hate you for not being here, for leaving?
You busy yourself with fixing the blanket in Kylo’s car seat. Jere and Steven had just gone to collect your stuff from the hotel - you’d agreed to stay at the house now.
And then it goes.
The sound of keys in the door, the door closing behind a familiar pair of feet. Rushed steps up the stairs, a left turn until they’re coming towards you.
And then your bedroom door opens, and a single figure stands in the doorway, slightly breathless.
“I saw your car on the drive.”
You stop in your tracks, the car seat behind your legs.
“I saw your car in the drive and I-“ Conrad begins again, “You’re home.”
You don’t have a chance to respond as he strides over and hugs you as if you’re a lifeline. His head buries into you and his arms around you as if he’s been needing you for years. His eyes are closed against you and you feel him inhale as if your presence had knocked every breath from his lungs.
And for a moment you’re frozen.
Until your arms kick into gear and they throw themselves around him too, holding him just as tight like you’re the only things holding each other up.
You feel him shift against you, that sort of shocked pause.
“(Y/n)…” His voice is quiet as he pulls away from you, “Is this…”
You step to the side to let him go past you as Conrad crouches down to the floor, his whole body cautious.
“This is Kylo.”
“Kylo,” Conrad grins, “You always said that’s the name you wanted for a boy. Do you remember? When we went to the boardwalk and there was that name on the-“
“The leaderboard for the go karts,” You grin, “I can’t believe you remembered that.”
“I can’t believe you did too, you stuck to your word,” He smiles, talking softly as if he doesn’t want to disturb the tiny bundle looking up at him.
Conrad’s fingers are at either side of the car seat and Kylo reaches up to grip onto his thumb. Con laughs like a sort of gasp, as if it is choked in his throat.
“I’m so happy you’re here,” He half-whispers the words and you’re not sure at first if it’s to you or to the boy in front of him.
But you settle on it being both.
Conrad looks back at you and breaks into an even wider grin, standing back up, “Can you just… tell me everything.”
He sits himself down on your bed and you sit down beside him. And this is it. This the final bit of home you were waiting on.
You and Conrad. Him and you. The piece you’d been waiting for.
———
The following morning, you’re up early with Kylo. You carry him downstairs and go about fixing up a bottle for him, the two of you resting on the couch whilst he drinks.
There’s a text from Carmen on your phone.
Hope they don’t hate you too much x
You shoot back a quick response of reassurance and send him a photo of Kylo smiling at you from last night.
Just as Kylo finishes his bottle, there’s a sound from the stairs creaking as someone comes down.
“Morning,” It’s Conrad, dragging a hand over his eyes as he does.
“Hey,” You return softly, “Why are you up so early?”
“Couldn’t sleep,” He grumbles, still in a half asleep state.
He drops down onto the couch next to you and smiles at Kylo, reaching out a finger to tickle his chest.
“Hey, could you do me a favor?” You ask him, “I need to change his diaper but the bag’s upstairs.”
“Yeah sure, what’s it look like?”
“It’s a black one, not the one with the handle but with the straps, and it’s like-“ You pause as you notice him watching you more and more confused, blinking at your explanation, “Okay, I’ll get the bag. Can you just watch him for a second?”
“That’s much easier,” Conrad grins and shifts on the couch so that he can hold the baby in his arms.
You stand up and head towards the door, hurrying upstairs to find the bag.
When you come back down, Conrad has Kylo stretched across his legs, his little feet hitting Conrad’s stomach and his head resting against his knees. He’s smiling down at him and Kylo grins tiredly up, giggling when Conrad tickles under his arms.
“You’re a natural,” You grin, coming down to sit beside him.
He looks up at you and raises his brows, “You think?”
“Well, he seems to like you,” You point out, not wanting to disturb the moment between them.
Conrad wiggles his hands beneath Kylo’s head and lifts him up, looking at you, “Where do you want me to put him?”
You snap back into reality, “Oh, right, yeah I’ve got a mat.”
He lowers the baby down onto it and then looks at you like he’s awaiting further instruction, “Come on, tell me what to do.”
“You want to change his diaper?” You laugh, “I can do it.”
“I’ve never done one before. I want to learn.”
“Alright, here,” You hand him over the wipes and a fresh diaper.
He’s far too slow when he starts and Kylo starts to wriggle on the mat, impatient of course.
“Does this thing not stay still?” Conrad grumbles, tongue between his lips as he concentrates on the task, his face grimacing just a little at the state of the dirty diaper.
“Put that one in here,” You hold out a diaper bag for him to dispose of it, “Alright, now wipe and new diaper. But make sure he’s covered - he’s a boy so that stuff can go everywhere.”
Conrad’s eyes widen as he takes your instruction, fixing the new diaper on - just a little wonky.
“There we go, fresh as a daisy,” He grins proudly at his accomplishment, “I think I could be pretty good at this.”
“Well that’s task two - making him laugh being task one,” You nod, “Not bad, Fisher.”
He lifts him back up onto the couch and lays him down beside you, Conrad sitting on the floor just in front of him like he’s already prepared to catch him.
He lets Kylo grab at the end of his hoodie, laughing at him before he turns to you.
“So, how does it all work? Are you… with someone?”
You shake your head, “We split up before I found out I was pregnant. But we’re really good friends, so it works. He helps out a lot.”
Conrad nods, “Well that sounds healthy.”
“What can I say? I’m mature now,” You joke.
“I think you always were,” He scoffs, “Especially compared to the rest of us.”
Both of you fall silent again and Kylo fills the space by gargling in some form of baby talk.
“What about you?” You clear your throat, drawing your legs to your chest on the couch, “Are you seeing anyone Mr Stanford?”
He scoffs, looking down at his hands, “No, no, I think I needed to stay away from all that for a little while. Clear my head.”
“And did you find anything in that clarity?” You taunt, yearning for the same connection the two of you had so long ago.
He looks at you for a second and pauses, “I guess I finally figured out what I want.”
For a brief moment you’re drawn to him, something in those eyes and that voice. But you tear yourself away.
“Well I’m glad the break was worth it,” You smile, looking away from him, “Sometimes that’s all that you need.”
You look down at your son and feel the same swell of pride you had when they first handed him to you in the delivery room. The same realisation that this was it now - this was everything.
“You know this place changed when you left,” Conrad comments, “And it’s changed again now you’re back.”
“Yeah, well, I always had that effect,” You wiggle your brows jokingly, lifting Kylo up from the couch to rest him on your lap.
Conrad pushes himself up to sit on the couch beside you and both of you fall silent in the seemingly empty house. He watches you with Kylo and is sure for a second that he’s looking at someone else. But it’s you. The one that was always made for this.
“I’m sorry if I-“
“I’m sorry if I-“
You both speak at the same time and look at each other with hints of smiles.
“You first,” Conrad encourages.
You take a deep breath, “I’m sorry if I made you feel like you couldn’t be with Belly. She told me you guys ended things not long after and I just hate thinking that I was… I don’t know, that I ruined things,” You shake your head, “I know it was forever ago.”
“You didnt ruin anything. Me and Belly… we… I think I always knew that she liked me. And I just, I hated the thought of breaking her heart. Like it would be my fault if I didn’t feel the same. And that night, I don’t know what it was, I just convinced myself that I could feel the same as she did,” He takes a deep breath too, like both of you are fighting for air against tightened chests, “But we’re must better as friends, we both know that. And I’d never… I never did… feel that way about her. I was just confused.”
You nod, “Now you go.”
“I’n sorry if I ever made you feel like you weren’t good enough,” Conrad exhales, “Because I know that’s how you felt, and I never ever wanted you to think like that.”
“Con…”
“Im serious (Y/n),” He shifts in his seat so that he’s facing you properly, “I was younger and naive and I knew that I liked you and I just… suppressed it. Because I knew if I started anything with you then I’d want that to be it, and I wasn’t ready for you to break my heart.”
You laugh a little, your eyes pricking just slightly with tears, “You think I’m a heartbreaker, Fisher?”
Conrad smiles, his cheeks flushed a little, his muscles visibly relaxed from what they were. He’d missed this. You, the way you knew him, the way you read him. He’d missed it all.
———
“We’ll watch him, you can go and shower,” Belly assures you, “And I’ll make sure Steven doesn’t do anything stupid.”
You’d spent the day in and around the pool with Belly, Steven and Jeremiah whilst Conrad had gone to work. They’d bought a float for Kylo at the store and were all impatient to use it - taking a thousand photos of him with his hat on laying back in the float.
“Alright, well just shout me if there’s anything,” You encourage, “I’ll just use-“
“(Y/n),” Steven says in a calm tone, “Relax, we’ve got him, I promise.”
You nod and step off of the lounger you’d been on, walking around the side of the house to where the outdoor shower still stood.
This place. It held memories you’d wanted to forget.
Before you step in, your phone starts ringing and you glance down to see Carmen’s contact on your screen, you accept the call and press the speaker button on your phone.
“Hey (y/l/n), how’s it going?” He says as soon as you pick up.
“It’s going well, yeah,” You turn back around to the garden where Belly was holding Kylo in her arms, “They’re all so excited to meet him.”
“Do they know about his super cool, super helpful, super present Dad yet?” Carmen taunts.
“They do,” You chuckle into the microphone, “They’re glad I haven’t been doing it on my own.”
“Yeah, well, they would’ve known that if they tried-“
“Carmen,” You sigh, “Less hating them, yeah? It’s going well.”
“Okay, you’re right, but I’m still not their biggest fans,” He comments, “What about the long lost love of your life?”
“Oh my god will you stop?” You widen your eyes at his words.
“Come on, I know that’s who you were most nervous to see,” He returns, “How’s it been? Do you still… you know, feel that way about him?”
“I-“ You glance down at the exact spot you’d been stood in two years ago, when you’d told Conrad the truth, “It’s Conrad, you know? He makes me laugh and he listens to me and he feels like… it feels like the piece of me that I’ve been missing.”
Carmen laughs, “And I’m guessing you haven’t told him that.”
“I already ruined things with that boy once, I can’t do it again.”
“Ruin things? (Y/l/n) I think you’d be telling him what he’s been waiting to hear for two years.”
Before you can say anything, the sound of a twig snapping behind you makes you jump from your thoughts and you turn around to see Conrad stood just metres from you.
“Um, Carmen, I have to go,” You stumble over your words into the microphone, “I’ll talk to you later.”
“Wear protection!” He yells down the phone before you hang up, your cheeks flushing bright red as you look back at Conrad.
“Sorry I didn’t mean to-“ Conrad mumbles, scratching at the back of his neck, “I just got back from work.”
“Right, yeah, of course, how- how was it?”
“Good,” Conrad nods, stuffing his hands into his pockets, “I didn’t mean to listen in, or anything. I just… I don’t even normally walk this way, I don’t know why I did but I thought I could hear people and so I thought maybe you were outside, not that I was looking for you, but well I was-“
“Con,” You interrupt, “It’s okay.”
He smiles, taking a second to breathe, “That was Carmen?”
You look down at your phone in your hand, “Yeah, just calling to check how I’m getting on. It’s the first time he’s been away from Kylo too.”
Conrad nods in understanding, “Yeah, of course, I bet that’s weird for him.”
“Yeah I don’t think I could ever leave Ky now, it’s a parent thing, I guess,” You scratch at a patch on your arm as the nerves seem to overtake you, “I should probably… you know, I need to shower before tonight and I-“
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll let you get on,” Conrad raises his hands and goes to step past you as you step into the booth of the shower.
You don’t make any move after that, thinking of every single thing you could’ve just said to him. How two years ago every word came to you all at once and, now, you can’t find a single right word to say. You feel your bottom lip tremble just slightly at the thought of everything you could’ve just told him but you shake it off.
“Hey, (Y/n),” Conrad’s voice speaks from the exact spot you’d just left him in, “What did he want you to tell me?”
You feel every bone in your body freeze at those words, practically sending a shiver down your spine. Your hands go numb, your eyes glazing over, your throat seemingly closing off any words.
As you turn around back to the entrance of the shower, there he is. Stood on the path with a look of hope in his eyes that you thought you’d never see again from Conrad.
“What did he want you to say?” He persists, eyes burning into you.
You exhale deeply, the tension in your shoulders dropping as if you’ve lost hope, “That I never should’ve walked away from you that night. And I hate myself every day for not fighting for you more, for not standing there and telling you that I’d wait for you. I’d wait for you in every life if that’s what it took for you to realise that you loved me. And I know I shouldn’t and I know it’s different now because I have a son and that’s complicated and you don’t have to want that or feel like you have to-“
He strides forward then, his hands coming up to cup either side of your face, his lips crashing into yours as if they’re returning home for the first time in forever. It’s messy and rushed and heated but neither of you care, both relaxing into a feeling you never thought you’d feel. Your hands grip at the material of his t-shirt like you’re convincing yourself that he’s real. And he is. It’s all real.
Your lips pull away first, rushing to catch every ounce of breath that had just been knocked from your lungs.
“I’d wait for you, (y/n). In this life, the next and the next after that, I’d wait for you too,” Conrad confirms, his eyes searching in both of yours, “This is it, okay? This is what I want, it’s what I’ve always wanted.”
You let out a laugh, somewhere verging on a sob as every emotion of every missed day seems to come out of you, “We’ve waited long enough, don’t you think?”
Conrad smiles, his hand moving to your chin to pull you into his lips once more.
“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that,” He mumbles just millimetres from your lips.
“I think I have some idea,” You return with a smile, kissing him quickly.
This was it. In this life, the next one and the one after that - this was where you could be truly happy.
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onlyjaeyun · 3 months
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𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 – 𝟗
𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄: 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐰
⤥ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
⤥ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬!𝐀𝐔
⤥ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟖.𝟕𝐤
⤥ 𝐜𝐰: 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐞𝐜𝐡, 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐞𝐬, 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐚 𝐋𝐎𝐓 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤, 𝐥��𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠/𝐦𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐨𝐧𝐞 (𝟏) 𝐬𝐥𝐮𝐭, 𝐧𝐨 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥 (𝐟. 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠), 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐭 (𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐯𝐬𝐬𝐲), 𝐞𝐱𝐡𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐦, 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐮𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲, 𝐧𝐨 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞, 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐝𝐮𝐛-𝐜𝐨𝐧 (𝐛𝐜 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐬)
⤥ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: 𝐀 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐚𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞, 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬. 𝐀 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐧 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐲'𝐬 𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐤.
(A/N: I had to add a little note here because I gotta clarify that even if Y/N never outright denies his advances, I still thought I'd add the dub-con warning because it's hate sex after all and I hope you guys know it's followed by angst. anyway, enjoy babies!)
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"Alright, I think that's everything for today. Thank you guys so much for coming in on a Saturday", trainer seo's calm voice echoes through the qiet office and with a soft smile you shoot him a quick nod and get up from your seat.
"Of course, Sir, anytime", Sunghoon replies just as calmly and the urge to roll your eyes at the sound of his faux politeness seems overwhelming after almost two hours of having to listen to him.
You're surprised to say that the tension in your muscles isn't even necessarily because of his presence but rather because you're mentally and physically exhausted.
The past two weeks feel like the burden of a whole year on your shoulders, your chest feels tight and you simply can't seem to get rid of the weird feeling in your stomach. You hate how much this break up is effecting you, it's not like you had genuinely loved Jaemin in the first place but the humiliation his disloyalty comes with has been weighing a lot heavier on you than you could have ever prepared yourself for.
After such emotionally draining days you'd much rather spend your Saturday afternoon getting tipsy on your best friend's home made cocktails while getting things for Seung's party ready than having to sit next to your least favorite person for a total of three hours.
However, you're just as relieved as you are tense that the meeting has finally come to an end and despite the fact that you'll have to drive home with Sunghoon, you're more than just excited to finally join the boys and get the party started.
"I know this is a lot to ask for, especially after I've held you two captive here for hours but could you give the storage room a quick clean up? The boys love to just throw their stuff in there and finding the things we need gets harder each time."
You try not to let your lack of enthusiasm show in your facial expression because no matter how badly you want to get home, Sunghoon would never deny his precious trainer a request like that and just as you're about to respond, he jumps in and approves your expectations.
"Sure", he says casually, not even bothering to check if you're just as okay with it as he is, "we'll do it roughly now and then I'll have the boys clean it up properly next week."
All you can do is press your lips into a tight lipped smile as you nod along to his words and voice your farewells to the rest of the staff members, only for your eyes to finally roll into the back of your head with an annoyed scoff.
"Say what you've got to say or shut the fuck up", Sunghoon is quick to shoot back in response to your non-verbal comment and with your brows furrowed in annoyance you scan his face.
"We could have just left this for another day", you hiss and run a hand through your hair, "since – you know – we actually have to be somewhere, you teacher's pet."
"Can you just keep it down for once, for fuck's sake", Hoon's quick to match your energy and for some reason his reaction triggers all the emotions you've been suppressing for the past few days.
"You act like I'm not telling the fucking truth", you spit back at him and turn around to grab your bag and get this shit over with. All you can think about is to finally put some physical distance between the two of you after spending way too much time in such close proximity with him.
"Look, I don't give a fuck about whatever you say. If you wanted to leave so badly you should have spoken the fuck up. It's not like you're usually one to hold back, so don't blame this on me", Hoon presses through gritted teeth and you hate the way you can't stop your gaze from dropping to his stupidly plump lips, "plus, if you want to leave, you're very welcome to do just that."
"I'm not gonna spend money on an uber when we agreed to drive home together in the first place", you say and raise your hands in confusion, quickly averting your gaze from his face to stop any more weird thoughts to enter your head.
The last thing you need right now is to let your mind wander to places which will only ruin you further. Places which include Park Sunghoon and his annoyingly attractive features.
"Then shut the fuck up and let's get this done so we can leave and I can finally pretend like you don't exist anymore."
Hoon's tone is cold, it's raw and it's harsh. But just as usual, it doesn't hurt you. Nothing he says to or throws in your face actually gets to you anymore. After years and years of constant back and forth you've grown immune to his hateful behavior.
But, different than you usually would, you decide to just let out a soft sigh and follow him out of the office and to the front of the ice rink, loving the way the cold hits your heated skin and calms your nerves.
For a moment you forget about Sunghoon's agitating presence and allow yourself to take in the sight of your former safe place.
One might have expected for you to get used to the sight of the huge ice rink after working as the hockey team's manager for the past six weeks, but somehow it hasn't gotten any easier. You don't feel the need to just fall to your knees and mourn the biggest loss of your life anymore but there's definitely this little sting in your heart whenever you remember how only a decade ago this exact place would have put you at complete ease. Whereas now you find yourself dreading every single second you have to spend there.
To your surprise, Sunghoon doesn't take this moment away from you but just quietly starts working his way through the messy storage room. For a moment you actually consider not helping him since he was the one to make the decision for you both but you know you'll leave faster if you give him a hand, so with yet another sigh of annoyance you place your bag onto the benches and join to help him.
None of you says a single word for the first twenty minutes and you can't believe that you're actually grateful for Sunghoon to opt with silence rather than another stupid argument.
You can't lie and say you haven't noticed the fact that he's been holding back on you a little more than usual, regardless if your brother is present or not and for some reason you can't help but wonder what the reason might be.
However, you don't get enough time to actually overthink your enemy's behavior as your phone suddenly starts buzzing in the back pocket of your jeans.
"Is it one of the boys? I texted Jaeyun but they might not be with him right now. Tell them it'll take us another thirty minutes", Sunghoon says and doesn't look up from the corner he's currently picking up the broken pucks from and despite the fact he usually prefers your lack of verbal response, he feels irritation bubble up in his stomach once he realises you haven't answered him yet.
However, your facial expression of discomfort and annoyance quickly tell him that the name on your screen does not belong to any of your friends.
"I'll be back in a minute", is the only thing you say once you've processed the fact taht you're currently looking at a name you'd much rather not deal with in that particular moment.
For the first in over a decade you're actually grateful for the fact that Sunghoon doesn't give a single shit about you or your life because if it was one of the other boys, you would have had to explain why you're about to pick up a call from your ex-boyfriend's best friend.
Without saying another word and anxiety boiling in your stomach, you make your way into the lockers room but not necessarily bothering to close the door behind you since you're more than just sure Sunghoon wasn't going to look for or check up on you anyway.
It takes you another row of vibrations to regain your compose and finally pick up the call. You could have just ignored it but for some reason you feel like you owe your own conscience this phone call.
"Hello? Y/N? Are you there?"
And just as you had subconsciously expected, it's the sound of your former lover's voice which makes its way to you and with your heart skipping a beat you let out anloud sigh of annoyance.
"What the fuck do you want, Jaemin?"
It doesn't take much for the blood in your veins to start boiling, anger and wrath coming together in the worst way possible and before you can even realise it, the back of your head is pulsating in agonising pain.
Talking to him over text was enough for your mental stability to spiral in a way you haven't experienced in months and hearing his voice now seems like the worst decision ever.
"Can you stop being so fucking aggressive for once? Don't worry, I'm not calling because I want to but because I have to", your ex boyfriend hisses and every single one of his words pushes you deeper into your state of irritation and anger.
"Stop fucking yapping and get to the point", you reply and pinch the bridge of your nose between your fingertips and if it wasn't for the possibility of Sunghoon hearing your conversation, you would have lost it on him already.
But in no way does your ego allow you to give him the satisfaction of hearing you in a state so vulnerable.
"You still have a few of my hoodies and I remembered that I forgot my laptop at your place", Jaemin sighs and you can hear the way he so obviously tries to calm himself down, his attempts easily hitting your conscience.
"I'll bring them to the café and have Tsuki give them to you, I don't want to see you."
You don't bother telling him about how you're afraid you'll actually punch him in the face and get arrested again if you ever had to look at his face again, since you know how paranoid he tends to be. You'd rather not worry about him ruining your record so close to your graduation.
"You can't be serious", Jaemin suddenly scoffs, wrath and pettiness wavering in his voice, "grow up and stop acting so immature. I'm gonna come by in an hour and take what belongs to me."
"Do that and I'll have Jongseong go batshit on you", you don't even hesitate with your threat, knowing oh too well just how intimidated he's always been by your best friend's rather cold demeanor.
"Why are you making this so difficult for me, Y/N? I never hurt you."
Maybe it's the lack of sleep and rest or the emotional exhaustion but something snaps inside of you as soon as your brain registers his words.
"You cheated on me, you ugly fuck", the volume of your voice has actually risen to the point where it echoes in the emptiness of the lockers room, easily gaining Sunghoon's attention.
For a moment he finds himself moving closer to the door to actually listen to what you've got to say to that stupid ex boyfriend of yours, but as a wave of rage overwhelms him, he decides to keep his distance for his own sake.
"Stop making me the bad guy in this, Jaemin. I gave you my everything. Every time I tried to put my boys and my life first, you guilt tripped me into thinking I never gave you the attention you needed or asked for but at the end of the day I had to beg you for a date night for four months."
Silence erupts on the side of the phone, followed by another sigh and now you can't help but wish you could actually look at him. Your heart craves the sight of his mask crumbling because you've finally given up on the relationship.
"Whatever lets you sleep at night", Jaemins says nonchalantly, "at the end of the day you still never trusted me enough to let me cum inside of you, so I guess we're even."
"You never earned yourself the privilege to fuck me raw, you stupid loser. So fucking loud and bold for someone who doesn't even eat pussy", you don't care about how loud you're being or the chance of Sunghoon hearing way too intimate details about your sex life, the accusing tone and words of your ex boyfriend are simply enough for your brain to go into overdrive.
"It's disgusting and I won't let you make me feel bad about it, not anymore", Jaemin's voice is filled with hatted and disgust, the instant waves of shame and embarrassment following his words are overwhelming.
"Go cry to your fucking mother about this, maybe she gives a fuck about your fragile masculinity", you say casually, knowing exactly just how much he hates being referred to as a so called "mama's boy".
"You fucking b–", "I wouldn't finish that sentence if I were you. A black eye and broken ribs are literally just a phone call away."
A beat of silence follows your threat and you know you won this round, yet again. At the end of the day Na Jaemin remains a gutless coward who loves to bark and yap, but never really has the spine to stand by what he says.
"You know, it's baffling to me how you've always had such high expectations of me when not even your own father can stand you and your annoying personality."
And for the first time the two years you've known him, Jaemin has actually managed to leave you speechless. The feeling of betrayal and pain is too intense, too strong for your body; a verbal response seems like a challenge.
"Come on, don't stop", you scoff, knowing what kind of response he wants and you're determined to do everything in your power to make sure he won't get that satisfaction, "I'm my father's least favorite child, my step-mother hates my guts, they disowned and threw me out when I turned eighteen. How about you go ahead and mention my dead mother too, hm? Since you wanna step that low. Don't hesitate now, big guy."
You can feel the knot in your throat doubling in its size at the thought of Jaemin throwing everything you've trusted him with in your face like he's just been waiting for the right moment.
But this is exactly what you're used to, so despite the ache in your chest you calmly wait for his response to your words.
You're so caught up in your argument with Jaemin, that you don't even notice Sunghoon's tall figure casually standing in the doorway, shamelessly listening to everything you've been saying for the past five minutes since he physically couldn't stop himself from eavesdropping once you had responded to your boyfriend's lack of privilege regarding unprotected intimacy.
He simply can't explain why the thought of your ex boyfriend denying you the sweet pleasure of oral sex was the last straw for him, but regardless of the reason behind it, Sunghoon has not stopped thinking about burying his face in your cunt ever since you had exposed your former lover.
At this point the young male would be lying if he said he has never thought about you in a sexual way, but he'd never, ever admit this to anyone but his own self.
He hates you. He's always hated you and he can't even think of a day where he won't look at you and not feel the urge to skin himself, yet at the same time he also can't deny just how badly he wants to fuck your brains out.
Every now and then Sunghoon caught himself imagining the sweet sight of your pretty eyes filled with tears, begging him to just please fuck you the way you've always needed to. And while he definitely didn't enjoy those thoughts and mental images at first, he's come to the conclusion that he's taken quite the liking in the want to fuck that annoying attitude out of your system.
Maybe being in your presence would be a little more bearable if you got fucked properly, since Sunghoon is pretty sure none of your previous lovers or boyfriends have ever managed to give you exactly what you need. Then on the other hand – who knows if he has what it takes to handle a girl with an attitude like that, right?
"Yeah, your stammering is just wasting my time", you suddenly say and pull Sunghoon back into reality, his eyes attentively roaming the way your outfit seems to hug every single curve of your body in the most perfect way possible.
Sunghoon despises you for being so god damn attractive and annoying at the same time. If you only ever managed to shut the fuck up, he'd actually have the nerve to be in your presence for longer than twenty minutes.
But usually it doesn't take you too long to open those pretty lips and say the most agitating, annoying and useless things and irritate every single bone in his body. What a perfect sight you'd make with your mouth stuffed and nothing but gags and muffled whimpers rolling off your busy tongue.
"I'll drop your shit off again Tsuki's café and will make sure she gets your ugly ass arrested if you end up being dumb enough to wait for me there."
Sunghoon watches the way you run a hand through your hair and just as he's about to let his gaze drop to the sight of your soft thighs, you suddenly decide to turn around and before he can even realise it, he's looking into your eyes. 
A wave of shock and panic overwhelms your body and your brain is suddenly flooded with worries about just how much he's heard already and how you'll ever recover from this.
You don't even bother saying any farewells to your ex boyfriend as you try your best to hide just how flustered and ashamed you are. Not knowing for how long he's been listening in on your conversation makes the anxiety in your lower stomach go crazy.
You never, ever wanted him, of all people, to know the disappointment your intimate life actully is and yet here you are.
"I always knew your taste in men is bad but this?"
Different than he had expected from himself, Sunghoon doesn't quite hold back with his response, knowing he has to say something or you might notice the way he's been devouring you for the past few minutes.
"Yeah, thanks for nothing", you sigh and roll your eyes, consciously ignoring the way Sunghoon's eyes seem to linger on the exposed skin of thighs for longer than necessary, "how about you just shut the fuck up and mind your own business? If I ever wanna talk about my choice in men I'll go to a therapist and not to your mommy issued ass."
And there is the Y/N Sunghoon knows and hates with the coldest parts of his heart.
But for some reason, your words seem to trigger a completely different reaction this time, because where usually he'd feel the anger boiling in his blood, now the way you're looking at him with furrowed brows and your pretty lips pressed into a thin line do nothing but push him deeper into his naughty fantasies.
"Nah, you know me", Sunghoon chuckles bitterly and casually approaches you, completely unbothered by your words, "I have to throw this in your face just for the fun of it."
"Go get fucked, Cunthoon", you spit back and don't hesitate to get on your feet, knowing you have no choice but to physically stand your ground since he's basically towering over you with his height.
"With or without the privilege?"
It takes you a short moment to realise what exactly he's referring to and as soon as you do, your eyes roll into the back of your head followed by a loud sigh.
You're trying very hard to mainatin your cold composure, but the second your brain processes just how close Sunghoon is standing to you, everything seems to become even more difficult.
You're not ready to admit just how badly you want him to touch you, not to yourself let alone to Sunghoon himself. No matter how much the thought of his hands on your body have your head spinning, you're ready to take this to the grave with you.
Sunghoon's the reason for so much of your past pain and heartache, the reason you promised your twelve year old self to never, ever let him back into your life and up until this particular moment you've managed to maintain your emotional and physical distance to him, so why the fuck has it suddenly turned into a challenge?
"It's honestly so sad to see how you're always so loud about knowing what you want and how you wanna be treated when you can't even find yourself a man who's actually attracted to you", Hoon's words hit the center of your fragile self worth and for the first time in the past few days, you actually feel the tears pricking at the corner of your eyes.
After all the things Jaemin has thrown your way, you're pretty sure you're not quite strong enough to take another hit from Sunghoon, especially considering how much more merciless and brutal he tends to be.
But maybe you need this. Maybe you just need to hear and feel Sunghoon's hatred in this particular moment just to remember who the fuck you actually are.
"Hm, that's all you've got?"
Sunghoon takes another step closer to you, his dark eyes attentively roaming your face as he nods and refuses to respond verbally.
You hate how much the fire in his gaze is burning your skin and how it's nothing but fuel to the flames in between your legs.
There's absolutely no reason for you to feel this turned on by Park Sunghoon, of all people.
"What's wrong, snowflake? You seem so lost in your thoughts", Sunghoon suddenly whsipers and the sound of the nickname he's given you exactly eleven years ago slices through your chest like a knife, triggering you in a way only he could.
"Get the fuck out of my face", you spit and press your hands flat against his strong chest, hating the way the hair on your neck literally stands up at the feeling of his muscles underneath your touch, "and don't ever call me that again."
You don't exactly know what you expected his reaction to be but nothing could have prepared you for the feeling of Sunghoon wapping his fingers around your wrist just to turn your body around and press you against the wall with your hand now firmly pressed into your lower back.
For a moment you can't help but wonder if this is actually real. Sunghoon hasn't touched you in over a decade. He's barely ever looked at you and yet now he seems more than just comfortable pressing his chest into your back.
"Or what, snowflake? What are you going to do? Curse me out and hurt my ego? Tell me about how my parents won't ever be proud of me or how they'll always choose their golden child over me, hm?"
You hear his words, yet the fact he's whispering them into your ear makes it impossible for you to actually understand what he's saying.
"What the fuck are you doing? Let me fucking go", you hiss and gulp harshly, not even realising how much you've been pressing your thighs together but Sunghoon is more attentive than you are and the only thing he's been focusing on is the way your chest is rising and falling uncontrollably.
"Let me guess what that loser told you", he suddenly sighs and reaches for your other hand just to hold both of them in one of his own, his cold touch sending chills down your legs and a jolt of hot arousal straight into your cunt.
"He talked about how your big mouth and that bratty attitude of yours were the reason he cheated in the first place", Sunghoon sighs and lets his unoccupied hand find its way around your waist before he places it flat against your lower stomach and for some reason, you don't feel the need to push him away anymore.
You can feel the blood thrumming in your ears, your heart quite brutally hammering against your rib cage and if it wasn't for the fact that he's got you firmly pressed against a wall, you're pretty sure your knees would have given out.
"Sunghoon, what the fuck–", "Don't make me find other ways to keep that mouth of yours shut, snowflake", Hoon quickly interrupts your protest and the anger finally finds its way into your veins, joining the disgusting arousal that's been clouding your brain.
You want to push him away. You want him to let go of you. But most importantly: you want him to just finally fuck you so you can get him out if your system.
Sunghoon might hate you with every fiber of his being, but at the end of the day his feelings for you won't change the fact just how easy it is for him to read your body language.
You might not have noticed for just how long you've been pushing your pretty ass up against his raging hard on, but he has and there's absolutely no way he's going to feel ashamed about it.
He hates his boys for being right but he knows neither one of you will ever say a word about this to anyone, which is probably why it's so easy for him to push his hand over your skirt and take ahold of your thigh.
At this point you can feel his rapid heartbeat against your back and the urge to move a little more against the pretty impressive bulge in his slacks has slowly become overwhelming.
"He's right, I can't lie", Sunghoon suddenly whispers, his plump lips touching the back of your ear with each word, resulting in your brain taking a lot longer to process the contentbof his comment, "that fucking attitude of yours is what makes you so unbearable. Always talking back. Always saying whatever you want, whenever you want, just like the entitled little girl you've always been and forever will be."
He's being brutally honest and you know it. Hoon doesn't have a reason to lie to you, not even when he's slowly pushing his hand underneath your skirt, all the way up your thigh until he's only a single motion away from grazing your clothed cunt with his knuckles.
And despite the fact that his words push you into the sweetest bliss of pleasure and wrath you've ever experienced, you physically can't get yourself to move in his grip. You want him to touch you and he knows it. Everything that fucker does is on purpose.
"Look at you", he suddenly chuckles and pushes his finger against your inner thigh just to nudge his hand in between your legs and casually press his palm against the entirety of your pussy, "you're boiling with anger because of the things I say but have still made a mess of your panties like a needy slut."
"Fuck you", is the only thing you manage to spit back, your head spinning as the feeling of his strong hands holding yours and his chest firmly pressed into your back leaves you completely breathless.
"You're so close to do just that, snowflake", Hoon doesn't even try to hide the amusement in his voice and you hate him for it but can't hide just how badly you want him to move his hand between your legs.
"Cut that cocky shit show and put your money where your mouth is, you fucking loser", you hiss and push your ass further into his crotch, only for your body to betray you and a desperate whimper escaping throat in response to his hard cock.
"There it is, that attitude I was talking about", he chuckles and suddenly lets go of your hands as he pushes his own underneath your skirt, his fingers casually toying with the string of your thong on both sides of your hips, "but no matter how much you hate me, your body will always betray you."
Sunghoon calmly pushes your underwear down your thighs, the lack of fabric against your sensitive cunt rips a guttural moan from your throat.
"Don't feel so special", you try to keep your voice as stead as possible, "I haven't gotten laid in weeks, you're just a convenience."
"Really?" As soon as that tiny little word slips past his lips, Sunghoon pushes his hand back in between your legs and this time you physically can't stop yourself from bucking your hips into his touch.
The feeling of his cold fingers geazing the hot, wet flesh of your cunt sends you deeper intot he sweet haze of your arousal and in combination with the anger lingering in your veins, you feel like you're about to explode.
"Now, the wetness of your little cunt is telling a completely different story, snowflake", he chuckles and runs the tip of his middle finger through your sensitive folds, only grazing the tip of your hard clit before he moves back to circle your clenching hole and drive you into actual insanity.
"Stop fucking teasing me, you bitch", you spit and wrap your fingers around his wrist to push your cunt against his palm, "just fuck me already."
"Hm, that sense of entitlement you have gets on my last fucking nerves, snowflake", Sunghoon hisses, his words drenched in venom whereas his thumb rubbing gentle circles into your sensitive clit displays the complete opposite.
"F-Fuck you", your voice breaks at the end of your two word sentence and with a soft, breathy whimper you press your forehead against the cool wall, hoping to get rid of some of the heat overwhelming your body.
"Different than your boyfriends, Baby, I'm not one to do just that without any foreplay", he chuckles and suddenly takes away the warmth of his body from yours as he pulls away but doesn't give you enough time to react as he drops to his knees and pushes your skirt a little further up your hips, exposing your drenched cunt to his hungry eyes.
In that particular moment Sunghoon feels grateful for his choice of position because the fact your pussy is the prettiest he's ever laid his eyes on is an ego-boost he would have never forgiven himself for giving you.
Maybe it's the fact he hasn't eaten anyone out in momths despite his favor for it, or maybe it's because he's subconsciously been hoping to get a taste of the most untouchable treat he's ever had to deal with in his life, regardless of the reaosn he can't get himself to actually care about it anymore.
"What the fuck are you doing?" Your voice sounds panicked but the way you move your body further into hsi touch tells him everything he needs to know.
"What does it look like, snowflake? I'm going to do what that loser boyfriend of yours denied you."
His words have a hint of possession to them and easily elicit a guttural moan from your throat as the thought of Sunghoon's pretty lips on your needy cunt leave you completely lightheaded.
"You fucking bastard", you hiss through gritted teeth only to choke on your words as soon as Sunghoon licks a long stripe over the entirety of your cunt, savoring every drop landing on his tongue like it's the sweetest meal he's ever tasted.
"F-Fuck", he grunts and digs his fingers deeper into the skin of your ass cheeks, hating himself for losing his composure but to his luck you're way too fucked out already to take notice of his little outburst.
"Let's see if I can tongue-fuck that little attitude problem out of you, hm, snowflake?"
Yet again, Hoon doesn't give you enough time to respond to his teasing promise by sucking your clit into his mouth, applying just enough pressure on your sensitive clit with his tongue to have you gasping for air.
You've only ever received head a couple of times in your life but never once has it felt so fucking good and you can't help but allow yourself to savor the pleasure he's bringing you, ignoring his identity for the sake of saving your own dignity.
Sunghoon is relentless, careless and sloppy. Loud slurping noises match the actions of his mouth as he swallows your sweet juices, not a single word leaving his lips as he's too busy making sure not one drop goes to waste of the sweetest cunt he's ever had the chance to eat.
For a moment the young man feels his composure slipping through his fingers as he pushes his face deeper and deeper into your cunt, too eager to care about you, too selfish to think about possible consequences.
It doesn't take long for you to tip toe around the edge as Sunghoon switches between thrusting his tongue into your tight hole and drawing circles into your needy bundle of nerves with the hardened tip of his muscle.
You've long lost control of yourself as moan after moan follows each breathless gasp for air and high pitched whimper of his name.
Sunghoon feels anger bubbling in the lower part of hsis tomach at the thought of your moans being so fucking sensual they're actual music to his ears.
With each movement of his tongue, he feels your hole tightening a little more, the urge to have you fall apart from his tongue alone overwhelming him and when he realises that it's because he wants you to know that there won't ever be anyone like him making you feel like this again, he chooses to push that thought all the way to the back of his head.
This isn't about you. This is about him. He eats pussy because it gets him off and that's why he forces himself to simply ignore your moans and whines and focus on the throbbing of his cock underneath all the layers of clothing.
"C-Close", you suddenly whisper, approving his thoughts and it's then that Sunghoon realises that he's had his eyes closed the whole time, like some pussy drunk freak.
"Will you look at that", he suddenly chuckles, and lands a quick spank on the sensitive skin of your ass, "little miss attitude has gone all quiet. Where's that big mouth of yours now, Baby?"
"Shut t-the fuck up", you whimper and throw your head back in ecstasy, too close to actually give a fuck about his comments but too stubborn to give him the satisfaction of your silence.
"Now now, don't get rude now", Sunghoon grunts and guides his hand to the front of your body knowing your eyes are firmly focused on the way his fingers start toying with your hardened clit.
"S-Sunghoon", you whimper and can't believe that an actual veil of tears has blurred your vision, "please, I need to cum. Don't take this away from me."
You try to swallow your pride as soon as Sunghoon's laughter echoes in the empty space of the lockers room but the second he goes back to pushing his tongue into your tight hole, you feel a wave of relief hit your nerves and before you can even process what's happening, your actul arch enemy applies just the right amount of pressure on your sensitive clit and easily pushes you over the edge with just those few movements.
Your ears start ringing as the coil in your lower tummy finally snaps and you find yourself heading head first into your sweet relief. You're physically and mentally not able to keep you'r noises down and you can't even be mad about it because never once in your life has anyone ever made you cum this hard.
The fact he managed to do it with his mouth only is what sends the aftermaths of your orgasm down your spine and for a moment you're pretty sure you're going to lose your consciousness.
You don't know how much time passes until you regain your composure but it's the sound of Sunghoon unbuckling his belt which pulls you back into reality.
"Looks like you can actually be a good girl, snowflake", he grunts as the relief of his hard cock finally being freed from the tightness of his jeans sends chills down his back, "if you told me that it took nothing but a good tongue-fuck to keep that big mouth of yours shut I would have done this years ago."
"Don't be so full of yourself, you bastard", you hiss and hate yourself for being so openly desperately as you turn your head the side just enough to catch a glimpse of his cock, "I told you I haven't gotten fucked in weeks. This was nothing but pent up frustration."
"Yeah, if that's what you'll tell yourself to essentially your conscience", Sunghoon scoffs and casually spits into his palm before he wraps his big hand around his thick cock and gives it a few good pumps, subconsciously enjoying the sight of your widened eyes.
"Turn around", you oblige to his demand without an ounce of hesitation and know you're going to hate yourself for this but can't get yourself to care the least.
"Look, it's not so hard to shut the fuck up when you want something, is it now?"
"How about you–", but Sunghoon's too fast. His hand is quick to grab your face and pull you closer to his body, his dark eyes roaming your features, his expression dripping in the deadly combination of hatred and lust.
"Open up", is the first thing he says, not even bothering to verbally respond to your back talk attempt, "come on now, snowflake. Open that pretty mouth and stick your tongue out for me."
For some reason you find yourself obeying him yet again, despite your brains firm protests you do as you're told and before you can question the decisions of your body, Sunghoon tilts your head back just enough to let a thick drop of his spit fall onto the back of your tongue.
"Aren't you one obedient little brat", he praises yet the words are filled with mockery, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth yet not able to take away the effects of his saliva coating your tastebuds has on you.
"Face the wall again", he suddenly lets go of your face and takes a step back to give you enough space to follow his order and for the third time in a row you find yourself doing just what he wanted you to.
"I know you're too fucked out already but I have a condom", Sunghoon says and allows himself the freedom of letting his eyes roll into the back of his head the second he starts pumping his cock again.
"Oh", you say and gulp harshly, hating how right he is, "good."
"It's gonna be a tight fit", Sunghoon grunts and slides the condom over his rock hard length before lining the tip up with your clenching entrance, "so tell me if you need me to take it easy. And relax. Stop tensing up so much."
All you can do is nod as the feeling of his cock so close to where you need him the most takes over the last bits of your rational thinking. Park Sunghoon is doing soemthing to your body you've never experienced before and at this point you don't even know what to feel or think.
He doesn't say another word and the next thing you know is the feeling of his tip finally entering you, stretching your sensitive cunt out just enough to send tiny jolts of pain through your body and for a moment you actually choke on your own spit.
"Fuck", Sunghoon curses and tightens his grip on your hips, slowly pushing more and more of his length into the warm embrace of your sweet cunt and with every single inch he loses himself a little bit more in the raw pleasure.
"What the fuck", you breathe out once he's halfway through, your cunt involuntarily clenching around his cock as his impressive size is a lot more to take than you could have mentally prepared yourself for.
"Just a little bit more, don't disappoint me now", Sunghoon hisses into your ear and wraps one of his delicate hands around your exposed throat, his grip not too tight yet essily knocking the breath out of your lungs, "be a good girl for once and take what I give you."
And it's this particular line which reminds you who exactly is currently about to fuck you into oblivion, the realisation sending you into a heated fir of rage and before giving him another chance to say anything, you push back and take the remaining bits of his length.
"Just fuck me already", you whisper, the sudden feeling of being filled to the brim overwhelming you and all you can do is hope that he's too caught up to notice.
"You fucking brat", Sunghoon hisses and tightens his grip around throat, thrusting his cock just a little deeper inside of you to make sure you know exactly who the fuck is in charge.
It doesn't take him too long to find the perfect rhythm, pulling his cock all the way out of your tight cunt just to thrust himself back inside of you with sharp movements of his hips.
The empty space of the lockers room is filled with a mixture of your high pitched moans and his deep grunts, yet not a single coherent word leaving either one of you.
It feels like Sunghoon is hitting every single one of your sweetest spots, the tip of his cock grazing the entrance to your womb with every single one of his movements and you feel the hate for your your body's physical response to his doing boiling in your tummy alongside another orgasm.
Every now and then Sunghoon let's out a row of choked profanities, his body not quite able to handle the inner battle between his brain and his cock because there's no fucking reason for you to feel this good.
You shouldn't feel like this. Your pussy isn't supposed to make his head spin and his ears ring, neither is it supposed to push him so close to the edge in such a short time.
Sunghoon has always taken great pride in his stamina. The disappointment of his orgasm slowly climbing down his spine faster than usual almost as present as the sweetness of pleasure rushing through his veins.
This time, however, he doesn't even check in on you as your pussy gives away just how close you are, so without saying another word, Sunghoon pushes his hand between your body and the wall and starts rubbing another set of harsh circles into your clit, knowing he'd hate himself even more if he didn't make you cum before him.
To his luck you've been so lost in the hate of your own pleasure, it takes exactly a minute and the combination of his merciless thrusts with just the right clit stinulation for you to cum all over his cock.
This time your orgasm feels even more intense, so intense your vission actually darkens for a solid second before turning blurry. Wave after wave comes crashing down on you and if it wasn't for his tight grip on your hips you would have lost your balance already.
You're so caught up in the sweetness of your own relief, you barely notice the way Sunghoon's thrusts start growing sloppy and uncoordinated and without giving it another thought, you lazily reach back to grab a fistful of his hair and pull at the thick strands and just as expected is the pain in his scalp enough to elicit a deep, gutturual moan from him as he cums inside the condom yet never once stops moving.
Heavy breathing is the only sound to fill the lockers room for the following few minutes and as the fog of pleasure slowly starts disappearing, instant regret hits your guts.
This should have never happened.
Not with Park Sunghoon, of all people.
"Stop panicking", he suddenly hisses and pulls his now soft cock out of your sensitive cunt, his expression as cold as his voice as you turn around to face him with mascara staining your cheeks and your panties around your ankles.
"As soon as I put my pants back on, I'm going to act like this never happened because it didn't. I had to get this out of my system and that's it. You still mean nothing to me and I'm pretty sure you feel the same, so let's not make a big deal about this."
Maybe it's the post-orgasm state of your still slightly fogged up brain or maybe it's because you're actually struggling to process if this actually just happened or not but as soon as his words find their way into your ear, your heart drops into your stomach in a way you've never experienced it before.
However, as someone who's had her heart broken and soul crushed just one too many times already, it only takes you a minute to regain your composure.
So without even bothering to give him a verbal response, you bend down to pull your panties up your legs again before you lift your head to meet his ice cold gaze.
"I'll give you a minute to get your shit together and wait for you in the car. Don't take too long, we're late already. And don't bother coming up with an excuse, just let me do the talking. For our both's sake."
Sunghoon says nonchalantly and runs a hand through his bleached hair before he simply turns around and walks away, leaving you alone just as he had announced it to you, with your self hatred and yet another reason to despise him.
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The drive to your apartment building passes by in a complete blur since neither one of you says a single word and as soon as you walk through the door to your own home, you're met with the sight of the triplets checking their outfits in the big hallway mirror.
"Hold on", Riki says and furrows his brows in confusion, his suspecting tone sending chills down your body and for a moment you feel the fear of being caught bubbling up your throat.
"I thought you got ready and went to the staff meeting so you could just join us at Seung's place", he says and eyes your outfit, the one you initially had planned on wearing to the party but have now decided to rip apart and never, ever wear again.
You let out a soft sigh and just shrug, "I sweated a lot while cleaning the storage room so I'm gonna hop into the shower really quick and get ready properly. You guys go and get the party started. I'll text Tsuki and let her know I'm gonna be late so please tell the boys about this for me, yeah?"
"Are you okay, my love?" Sunoo asks with worry shimmering in his pretty eyes and you curse him for reading your body language so easily. If it wasn't for your abolity to turn off your emotions in an instant you would have bursted into tears already.
But all you can feel is regret and indifference. There's not a single thought left in your head and you find yourself returning to the sweet comfort of feeling empty.
"Super exhausted but just as ready to get wasted with my favorite boys", you smile and caress Sunoo's cheeks with your palm, "don't worry about me. I'll be with you guys in no time."
"Alright then", Jungwon exclaims and gives you a quick side hug, the smell of alcohol surrounding him already and the fact he hasn't noticed his best friends' look of concern despite your reassuring attempts tells you just how tipsy he is already.
"I've left the kittens some food but I'm pretty sure they'll just sleep through the night", Riki says once the other two have walked through the door of your shared apartment, "don't rush yourself. Seung's wasted already, so he has no sense of time anyway."
After giving your brother a quick yet tight hug, you force yourself to take the shower you had announced to the boys and it's only when your skin starts burning that you realise just how harshly you've been scrubbing yourself.
By the time you finally get to your hair, you choose to just straighten it and focus on your make up, the urge to look pretty enough to receive compliments and deceive your insecurities too intense to ignore.
It doesn't take you longer than an hour to get ready and just as you swing your front door open, you're met with the sight of your best friend.
And just as usual she manages to take your breath away. You've never seen anyone like Fukutomi Tsuki. It's like the pureness of her soul has reflected itself in her appearance and with big eyes you take in her angel like face.
"You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen", she suddenly says and covers her mouth with her pretty hands, her fresh set of nails catching their attention and as you process her words, you enjoy the warmth spreading in your chest.
"I was just about to say the same, my love", you pout and oull her into your arms, the hug a little too tight, too long and too heartfelt for a greeting, yet completely normal for the two of you, "you're so beautiful, Baby. You look like an angel."
As the two of you make your way down the stairs to Jay's and Heeseung's shared appartment, you feel anxiety pooling in the lower bit of your stomach, yet you vehemently refuse to allow your brain to acknowledge the reason behind it.
And as soon as you step into your best friends' apartment, you're met with loud music, the smell of smoke and cologne, alcohol and laughter.
"There she is, my favorite human being to ever exist!", Jaeyun suddenly yells from across the room, the honesty in his words taking away every single bad thought in your brain and before you can even break into a smile, a blushy Heeseung has already opened his arms to welcome you with a bear hug.
Once you've spent a good five minutes just in the birthday boy's embrace, the other two have finally made their way to you, not asking why you're late or where you've been. All they do is hand you a shot and a freshly made cocktail before they pull you into the living room and start introducing you to the people from their workplaces.
And as the alcohol slowly starts finding its way into your system, you finally manage to get rid of every doubt, every worry and every single self hating thought. Right now what matters is to have a good time with your best friends and not your former figure skating partner and the little trophy doll he's got glued to his hips.
You might have given into your desires for once but you'd be dammed if you gave him the satisfaction of seeing you crumble.
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← 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 — 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 — 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 →
(A/N2: here it finally is....not gonna lie i'm SUPER nervous about this and genuinely hope you guys like it. I deffo had a lot more fun writing it than I had initially expected. i also randomly decided not to write too muxh about the party bc we have already reached 8.7k words and yeah..no need to overdo it lol 😗🤞🏼 anyway, thank you guys so, so much for all the love and support. i cant wait for your reactions and am sending everyone the biggest kiss ever. ☁️🫧)
TAGLIST CLOSED: @soonigiri @en-happiness @lhsvibez @dammit-jjk @heerinnie @primroselover @jungwon-xo @szkstay @lostwonderwall @hoonieluv @certifiedmoa @doodlelibrary @ikeuizm @kpoprhia @sleeping-demons @jongszn @imtoanonymousforyou @lalalovejay @ineedsomezzz @xrr-s4sha @ariadores @viagumi @electrobutterfly @mimikittysblog @blurryriki @heelcvr @wonkifangirl @joonzseoulmate @kwiwin @hoondiors @seuomo @zerasari @love-you-twice @aloverga @marz-mars @velvtcherie @niniissus @abrazosolorcereza @ddazed-lhs @acphengene @skz-streamer @kshoshi @tya0 @yizhoutv @jebetwo @myheelody @seokgyuu @blockbusterhee @l0vee-l3tters @luvkpopp
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togrowoldinv · 10 months
Text
First Date
Milf!Wanda Maximoff x Female Reader
You pick Wanda up at her home for a date and learn a lot about the woman by the time she goes back inside that night
Warnings: Smut! 18+ please! Kissing, cursing, mommy kink (oops), thigh riding, oral (R receiving), Wanda’s first time with a woman
Note: Milf!Wanda, am I right? Y’all enjoy this one!
Wanda Maximoff Masterlist, Main Masterlist
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You take a deep breath and knock on Wanda’s front door. You fiddle with the flowers you bought her as you anxiously await for her to open the door.
The woman had agreed to go out with you after you met her in the coffee shop you work at. You weren’t usually one to ask customers out, but you felt drawn to her in some way. And she seemed to have felt it too.
The door opens and there’s a young child standing there.
“Hi,” he says to you. “Who are you?”
“Oh, I’m y/n. Is this Wanda’s house or?” You are asking the question when the woman finally makes her appearance.
“Tommy! What did I tell you about opening her door?” Wanda scolds him lightly.
“Not to do it,” the little boy says, his eyes avoid Wanda’s gaze. “I’m sorry, Mom.”
Mom. That’s not a piece of information you knew about the woman.
“That’s alright, sweetheart. Try to remember, okay?”
“I will!” The boy promises. Wanda kisses his head and he runs off inside the house.
Wanda finally can turn her attention to you.
“Hi y/n,” she says. “Sorry about that.”
“No worries,” you reply. “These are for you.”
You hand her the flowers and she holds them to her heart in awe.
“Come on in and I’ll put these in a vase before we go,” Wanda says.
“I’m assuming that’s your son?” You make small talk as you follow her inside.
“Oh, yes. That’s Tommy. He’s my rambunctious one. Billy is much more calm.”
“Right. Okay, so two kids then?”
“Yes. Twin boys. Is that a dealbreaker?” Wanda asks, her voice only half indicating she might be joking.
“Of course not. I love kids,” you say. She breathes a sigh of relief. “Plus, that means I’m dating a total milf.”
Wanda laughs so hard at that comment that she can barely breathe. You smile at how beautiful she is even when she’s cackling.
“I needed that laugh,” Wanda says as she finally gets her breathing back to normal. “I just need to tell the boys goodbye and I’ll be back, okay?”
“Perfect,” you say.
You give the woman the space to go and tell her sons goodbye. You can’t hear much through the walls but you hear a chorus of I love yous as Wanda leaves the hall and finds you again.
She follows you to your car and you open the door for her. The car ride goes quickly and you’re at the restaurant and seated in record time.
The talk between you and Wanda flows easily and it’s like you’ve known each other for a long time. Dinner is a delight and on any normal date you’d want to take her home that night, but you don’t want to rush things.
Still, you park back in Wanda’s driveway and neither one of you necessarily want this night to end.
“Wanda, I had an amazing time tonight,” you say. You look over at her in the passenger seat. She’s absolutely glowing in the moonlight.
“Me too, y/n.”
Wanda leans in just a few inches closer to you, but she stops.
“You’re going to have to kiss me because I’m too scared to kiss you,” she admits, her eyes gazing into yours.
“You don’t need to be scared, baby. How long has it been?” You ask. She knows what you mean.
“Far too long.”
“Let’s fix that.”
You take Wanda’s face into your hands and kiss her. You put everything you have into the kiss and Wanda melts into a puddle from the feeling. Your hands and your lips and your tongue make Wanda feel like a brand new woman.
“Is it always that good?” She asks once you break for air.
“No ma’am it is not,” you reply.
“I really want you,” Wanda says. She gasps at her own bluntness. “Sorry, I just- that was amazing, but I don’t expect anything else.”
“Wanda, I really like you,” you assure her. “If you want me right now, you can have me.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Come here,” you say, moving your seat back and tapping on your lap.
Wanda moves to your lap and her skirt slips further up her legs. Creamy thighs reveal themselves to you.
“Wanda, you’re so beautiful,” you tell her. You run a hand through her hair and she shivers. Pulling her down for a kiss, you’re sure to let your other hand wander over her.
It slips under her shirt and up her abdomen to her chest. Wanda moans into the kiss when you fondle her breast under her shirt.
She pulls away and lets you pull her shirt over her head. You go for her neck this time, kissing and leaving bites that make her let out delicious sounds.
You notice the woman is desperate to relieve the feeling between her legs.
“Wanda, baby, ride my thigh,” you instruct her.
“Are you sure?” She asks.
“Definitely. Let me help,” you say.
You pull her skirt further up her hips to reveal her lacy underwear. You slip your fingers across the wet material and pull them to the side.
Wanda gasps at the sensation of her naked pussy rubbing against your pants for the first time. Once she gets a rhythm, she feels better than she has in years.
“I love seeing you like this, Wanda,” you encourage her. “You’re doing so well.”
“Fuck,” Wanda moans. “Feels so good.”
“Yeah I know it does, mommy,” the word slips out, but the way Wanda has to grip your shirt harder to keep herself from falling over with pleasure tells you that it’s okay. Even that she likes it.
“I’m going to come,” Wanda says, her words mixing with moans of pleasure.
“Come for me, Mommy,” you say.
Wanda comes hard against your thigh. Her legs shake as she leans against you.
“Fuck that was so good,” Wanda says. She grabs your face and kisses you passionately. It almost feels like a thank you kiss.
Wanda smiles at you when she pulls away. You swear you’ve never seen such a beautiful woman.
“Can I- do you need to-“ Wanda stumbles over the words.
“Only if you want to,” you say to her. “I’m more than happy to just please you.”
“No. No, I just haven’t- with a woman before,” Wanda admits.
“Oh, well you just did pretty damn amazing. You’ve got this,” you say.
Wanda chuckles and she situates herself on her knees in front of you.
“May I?” She asks, gesturing to your pants.
“Please,” you say.
Her deft fingers work to pull your pants down your legs with your underwear as well. Wanda hesitates, so you guide her to your center. She licks through your folds slowly, but once she gets comfortable she picks up the pace.
“Just like that Wanda, fuck,” you say as she keeps going. She gets the hang of what makes you feel good quickly.
When she uses her thumb to brush against your clit while her mouth is still at work, you grip her hair tight.
“Are you going to come for Mommy?” Wanda pulls her mouth away just enough to speak.
“Yes ma’am,” you reply.
She grins devilishly and puts her mouth on you again. She’s successful in just a few more minutes.
You ride out your high and Wanda climbs back up into your lap.
“Thank you for tonight,” Wanda says. “I haven’t felt this good in- well maybe ever.”
You kiss her lips softly. A reminder that you really like her.
“I feel good too, babe. Can I see you again?”
“Is tomorrow night too soon?” She asks.
“Tomorrow night sounds perfect.”
Wanda moves back to the passenger seat and you two get dressed again. With one more goodnight kiss Wanda goes inside her house, and you drive home with a smile on your face.
Best first date ever.
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entitled-fangirl · 2 months
Text
Two idiots in love. (P5)
Joel Miller x anemic!reader
Summary: Henry and Sam interrupt the trio's plan. And Joel says something that will either make or break what he has with the reader.
Warning: blood, guns, Infected, fighting, cursing
Masterlist
Part 1 and 6
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Joel was on his knees behind Y/N, digging through her hair, checking the injury on the back of her head. "Well, good news. Just a little scrape. Head bleeds more than the rest of the body, so it only looks like it's bad."
She hummed before looking over her shoulder at him. When she felt him staring at her, she completely swiveled on the ground to face him. His eyes were studying her closely.
She sighed, "…why do you do that?"
His eyebrows furrowed, "Do what?"
She wasn't sure how to even explain her thoughts, so she dropped it, "Just… nothing."
Joel didn't want to push her anymore than she already had been today, so he dropped it, too. "Go lay down, Darlin."
She smiled, standing up, "…There's that accent again."
He scoffed under his breath, standing too. 
This seemed to be the longest Ellie had been quiet. So, she took it upon herself to break the moment, "How long are we gonna be here?"
Joel sighed, "We'll survey the roof in the morning."
Then he started scattering glass around the door, leading all the way to their makeshift beds, which consisted of old couch cushions. 
The sound of glass falling was killing their ears, and finally, Ellie yelled out, "Joel!"
He stopped, "What?"
"What are you doing?"
"I don't want someone sneaking' up on us while we're sleepin'."
"Oh! I get it. Crunch, crunch, crunch." She got a smirk, "Are you sure you're gonna hear it?"
"Of course, I'll hear it. That's the damn point."
Joel woke up to the sound of Y/N's panicked voice. "Joel…?"
"JOEL!"
His eyes opened.
Ellie was held at gunpoint by a man in his twenties.
Y/N was still seated on the ground with her hands up in surrender.
Joel turned.
A young boy held a gun to Joel's head.
The man spoke up quickly, "Eyes on me."
Joel simply stared at him, determining his next move.
The man continued, "You don't have to worry about what to say. We don't wanna hurt you. We wanna help you."
Joel's voice was strained, "Okay…"
"Okay… um… I don't know what the next step is with something like this, but… if I lower my gun… We didn't hurt you, so you don't hurt us, right?"
Joel's eyes never left the man. "That's right."
The man tilted his head in panic, "That's a weird fucking tone, man."
Ellie spoke up, "That's just the way he sounds. He has an asshole voice. Joel, tell him he's okay."
"Everything is great."
Y/N looked over her shoulder. "Joel…"
The man was confused, "Fuck. Okay. I'm gonna trust you."
He began to sign to the boy. They communicated back and forth a few times before he spoke up again, "Okay. But if you guys try anything… yeah?"
Silence ensued before the man motioned for the boy to step back. 
Joel's jaw clenched when they didn't pull their guns away, "Can I sit up?"
"…Yeah. Slow. Get up slow."
Joel did so, keeping his hands raised, "Who are you?"
"My name's Henry. That's my brother, Sam."
The five sat in the building around a lantern, eating rations.
"Where did you get these?" Henry asked.
"From Bill," Ellie answered. "He's dead."
Joel reached out, giving the rest of his portion to Sam, who took it happily. He motioned to Henry.
Henry spoke up again, "He says thank you. I'm guessing you don't have much, so, this means a lot."
Ellie smiled, "How old is he?"
"He's eight."
"Cool. I'm Ellie."
Henry's eyes moved to Y/N, waiting for an introduction. 
She felt his gaze, "Oh. Uh. Y/N."
When Joel didn't answer, Ellie slapped his leg.
He grunted. "I'm Joel. Look, you ate, we didn't kill each other, let's call this a win-win and move on."
Henry nodded, "Well, I'm betting that y'all came up here to get a view of the city and plan a way out. And when the sun's up… I'll show you one."
"Highways. Downtown. Us." Henry pointed out on his makeshift map. "This whole are belongs to Kathleen."
Y/N spoke up, "She's in charge?"
Joel wrapped his arm around her waist slowly and unknowingly, as if instinct. She in turn, leaned against his side.
Henry nodded, "Leader of the resistance. So. How do we get across?" He signed to Sam.
Sam wrote on his paper tablet the word tunnels.
Joel scowled, "Kansas City has a subway?"
"No, maintenance tunnels."
"Alright. Great plan. So what do you need me for?"
Henry sighed, "You noticed anything strange about this city?"
Ellie hummed, "No infected?"
"Oh, there's infected."
Y/N connected the dots, "But not on the surface…"
Henry nodded, "Exactly."
Joel was growing angry, "So you want US going in a tunnel?"
"Everyone thinks that it's full of Infected, but I know it's not. They cleared it out like… three years ago."
Joel scoffed.
"Okay, so maybe there's one or two. That's why you're here."
"And what if there's more?"
"Like those ones that see like a bat?" Ellie asked.
Henry stepped back, "Wait. You ran into a clicker?"
Ellie smiled, "Two of 'em."
"And you're still alive. See? If it gets bad, we turn around."
Joel's scowl never left, "So THAT'S your plan?"
Y/N grabbed Joel's hand. "Joel…? Can we..?"
He leaned down, "Yeah, uh. Give us a minute"
The two walked out of the room into the hallway.
Joel sighed, "I don't know about this, sweetheart."
"Me neither."
He stared at her, "Tell me what's going on in that little head of yours."
"It's dicey but… it's all we have, isn't it? And that would make four people dependent on you."
He nodded, "How do you know we can trust this guy?"
She smiled, "Look at him, Joel. He wouldn't hurt a fucking fly. The guy is harmless."
"What if he harms you?"
She stopped. "Is that what you're worried about?"
Joel sighed, "I'm always worried. About you," he stops, trying to cover the meaning of his words, "…and Ellie. You and Ellie."
"Well," she continued, "Trust me about this one thing. When have I steered you wrong?"
Joel stepped back in thought, "That one time when-"
"-Yeah. Okay. I heard enough." She walked past him into the room. "Henry, we'll do it."
Joel was so blindly in love with her. 
Here they sat in a safe room in the tunnel, waiting for daylight to end.
Y/N still hadn't recovered from yesterday's events, so Joel was insistent that she rest.
But when she tired to lay on the ground, he held her up, dragging her over to the table as he sat in a chair.
He pulled her into his lap, "Floor's too cold. You'll get sick."
That's how she ended up asleep in his lap, her head tucked in the crook of his neck as she slumbered.
"You know," Henry said, "I didn't take you as the… caring type."
Joel scoffed, "What?"
"With your… your wife," he pointed to Y/N in his lap, "and your daughter," pointing to Ellie.
Joel's voice hardened, "This isn't my family."
Henry stepped back from the chair, "Sorry, man. I… I just thought-"
"-well, you thought wrong."
He thought Y/N was asleep, but she wasn't. 
And she heard every word.
The group exited the tunnels, beyond happy that their plan was working.
Ellie smiled, "So, cross the river, and then what? Where are you guys gonna go?"
"Don't know yet," Henry thought, "Probably gonna head toward-"
Gunshot.
They all ducked.
Joel grabbed at each person, "Move. Move! GO!"
They hid behind a car.
Henry was panicked, "Where is that coming from?"
Joel turned, "Shut up."
He turned to Ellie and Y/N, "You don't move, and he's not gonna hit you. I'm gonna go around, try to get in the house through the back."
"But if you go out there, he's gonna kill you." Ellie protested.
"It's dark and he has shit aim. No one is gonna kill me." He leaned towards her, "Do you trust me?"
She nodded.
He turned to Y/N, "You'll be alright."
She leaned in towards him, "Just… be careful."
He reached forward, taking a strand of her hair in between his fingers and studying it, as if it will be his last chance to. "I will be."
Joel's voice was heard from their hiding place, "RUN!"
Y/N's head perked up, "Ellie. We gotta go."
Headlights.
And soon, a snow plough began clearing out the cars leading up to the four.
They ran as fast as they could, hearing Joel firing at the car from his place in the house.
He managed to hit the driver, making the vehicle crash into the house.
It caused an explosion.
Joel watched carefully trying to locate Y/N and Ellie through the smoke.
Kathleen exited her vehicle, soldiers following suit.
And the four were hiding behind a car.
Henry spoke up, "I'll come out! Just… let the others go."
Kathleen smiled, "No. Sorry. The girls are with the man who killed Bryan. And Sam… well… Sam is with you."
"You don't understand!"
The snow plough suddenly fell through the building and into the tunnel, causing a massive hole to show.
And the sound of Infected.
The four began to run as Infected ran out from the tunnels.
In the chaos, Y/N had lost Ellie. 
She made it to the tree line, looking back for her.
When Ellie was nowhere, she grumbled, taking out her gun from her pack, and going back out.
She dodged Infecting, shooting at some as she went.
When one grabbed at her arm, a bullet moved straight through its head.
Joel.
She looked up to the house in gratitude before continuing.
She finally found Ellie stabbing at Infected that were trying to attack Henry and Sam. She ran as fast as she could to them, helping Ellie finish the job. "C'mon."
Y/N led them all back to the tree line. They were only feet away when Kathleen stopped them, her gun aimed carefully. "Stop."
They watched an Infected jump at her and begin to rip at her face. 
They were all frozen.
Joel grabbed at Y/N from behind. "This way. Now. Move!"
She jumped, turning around as they others began to run, "Thank you."
He nodded "Let's go."
"Think they'll be okay?" Henry asked.
They all sat in an abandoned house, the kids in the bedroom reading a comic book, the adults in the living room.
"Yeah. It's easier when you're a kid anyway."
Y/N stood on shaky legs, "I need fresh air."
Joel's eyes watched her carefully, "Hey. Don't wander, alright?"
She turns back with a defiant look, "Not like you'd care."
And she shut the door behind her.
Joel stepped outside a little while later. 
Y/N was sitting on the porch steps, staring out at the stars.
He stood behind her, "You alright?"
She turned as far as she could towards him, "I'm fine."
Joel didn't like that answer.
He sighed, moving to sit next to her. When she didn't look at him, he grabbed her jaw gently, pulling it towards him. His voice was soft, as it always was with her, "Hey. You're obviously not fine. And what the hell was that back there? Tell me what's going on."
She stared into his eyes, trying to decide what to say to him.
He tried to make her sit in the silence, but even he couldn't handle it. "How am I supposed to fix what's wrong if I don't know what it is, sweet girl?"
She scoffed, "I just wish you'd stop doing that."
"Doing what?"
She turned her head away from his hand, "Quit looking at me… like… like that."
Joel looked confused, "I don't get it."
She sighed deeply, "You look at me and you talk to me like… like I mean something to you, Joel. It's frustrating."
He leaned back in shock. "You… you think I… I don't care about you?"
She laughed slightly, standing up and walking out into the yard slightly, "You've made that much clear, Joel. You said it yourself."
How could she think that? Joel began to ponder anything and everything he's ever said to her. It was angering him, "I've never said those words to you. I care about you."
"Only because I'm Tess's sister."
"Watch. Your. Mouth."
She paused, watching Joel stand on the stairs. Her tone dropped to a quiet mumble, "I think I've been on this journey long enough. I should just go."
Joel stepped down one of the stairs, "I've already said it before. You're not going anywhere. I want you here."
"Don't fucking lie to me, Joel!" She yelled, "You don't even consider me family!"
Oh. 
She heard that.
He sighed, trying to control his tone, "No one wants you to leave. I need you on this trip… and Ellie. She needs you."
"I just want you to be honest."
"What do you want from me, baby?"
They just stared at each other.
"I want you to tell me what you want from me, Joel."
He stood in thought, before descending the stairs. "There are no wants in this world now, sweet girl. You and I both know that."
"You don't need me to be around. I'm extra weight."
"LISTEN TO ME WHEN I TELL YOU YOU'RE FUCKING NOT!"
Her eyes hardened at his loud tone. "Don't try to spare my feelings. You don't want me around and I see it. Just…" her eyes saddened at his look, "…stop looking at me like that. Please."
She moved past him, going back up the porch stairs.
"Darlin', wait."
She sighed, turning around.
But she was thrown off by the sudden feeling of his lips on hers. 
One hand wrapped around her waist, the other across her back, pulling her closer.
He pulled away.
"There are no wants in this world, but I do. I want you."
Her eyes scanned his face inquisitively, checking for the truth.
"You can look all day, sweet girl. I'll always tell you the truth. Please, stay."
She nodded, pulling away from his arms. "Okay. I'll… I'll stay."
His shoulders slumped slightly. "Uh...good."
He moved past her to go inside, but she gently tugged at his sleeve.
He turned to her.
And she kissed him back.
He hummed into the kiss, pulling her to him once again.
He had always wondered how soft her lips were. 
And now he knew. 
She pulled away this time, "Let's go inside. I'm fucking cold."
Joel chuckled. He shrugged off his jacket, placing around her shoulders. "I think I like it out here more." He gently kissed her lips again. "I'll keep you warm."
She smiled, "I love when you look at me like that."
.....................................................
Part 6
Tag list: @lover-of-books-and-tea, @pedropascalfan221, @lottieellz101, @bambisweethearts, @hiroikegawa
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reiding-writing · 4 months
Note
Hi i am absolutely in love with your writing. If you want to, could you write Reid having one of his migraines and reader just comforts him, yk massaging his scalp and forehead and whatnot while he lay in her lap. Idk man i just wanna see my boy get some relief from his headaches because in the show he just suffers through them ☹️
migraine massages [ s.r ]
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Summary:
Migraines are the worst. They hurt and they stop you from doing absolutely everything. Spencer was silently pleading for relief from his own body, and you plan to fulfil those needs.
WARNINGS: details of migraines, vomit mentions, mentions of spencer’s addiction, mentions of relapse
pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader
genre: ANGST, hurt/comfort
wc: 2.7k
masterlist!!
a/n: can’t have hurt/comfort without the hurt. from a personal perspective, migraines suck bro. they suck so bad.
i’m also mildly disappointed that they didn’t expand the migraine thing after they dropped the original tumour reason, like they could’ve done so much with it-
thanks for the request! <33
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Spencer felt like his skull was being hammered from the inside out. Like his brain was silently vying to escape it’s confines and break out of the bone. He felt like every nerve of his body was working against him to make sure he had the most miserable day humanly possible.
He felt like if he moved an inch from his position that the coffee and croissant that he had for breakfast this morning in an attempt to make himself feel better was going to force it’s way up out of his stomach and paint his desk in a sea of vomit.
The tinnitus ringing in his ears didn’t help, nor did the agitatingly bright while florescent lights of the office that he’d never seemed to take much notice of before.
His shoulders ached as he rested his head in his hands, his thumbs negligibly working against his temples to attempt to relieve some of the aching pressure that sent waves through his head and made him want to curl up into ball under his bed covers and never wake up.
“Spence? Are you okay?” Your voice is deliberately quiet as you approach his desk on your return from the kitchenette, steaming mug of coffee cupped in your hands and concern written all over your face.
You can almost hear the sigh of relief as he realises it’s just you and not Hotch asking him for the fourth time today for the file he’d been trying to finish for the last almost three hours.
He doesn’t look up at you yet, merely replying a weak “hi…yeah…just a headache”
You can see him try to suppress a grimace as his own voice overloads his eardrums and sends another wave of pain through his head.
You knew what a headache looked like. And what he was experiencing looked nothing like ‘just a headache’.
“A headache? You look like you’re in a lot of pain, have you-” You begin to question his pain relief, but catch yourself before asking about painkillers. As much as they definitely shouldn’t be, opioids are the most common form of pain relief prescribed for migranes, and you knew that if he had gone to the doctors for the pain, he would’ve turned them down.
At least you hope so anyway.
“Have you… had it for long?”
There’s a pause, before an almost imperceptible nod comes from him. “Three hours… three hours and eighteen minutes…. I thought it was gonna pass but… it’s getting worse….” he swallows before forcing out the next part “…I feel sick….”
You give him a small nod and a pursed expression, becoming increasingly concerned as he continues his explanation, and you can just barely catch how pale his face has gone underneath his hands.
“You should go home Spence…”
He looks up from his desk at that suggestion. As he’s trying to answer he gets cut off by a blinding pain that explodes behind his eyes. He gasps and clutches his head, dropping back into his chair before closing his eyes. “Agh….”
“Spencer…” You can’t help but wince slightly at Spencer’s clear display of pain. “Let me drive you home, you’re not fit to work right now,”
He wants to argue but his mouth is dry. The pain is just too much for him to focus on anything else, including having an opinion, so instead he simply nods.
“Give me two seconds okay? I’m going to go and tell Hotch and then we can go,”
That seems to be a satisfactory answer for now, because he just nods again. He’s not quite ready for the onslaught of light and sounds that will be the outside world just yet. He simply leans his head back and closes his eyes, trying to relax and focus on his breathing.
It takes you a little under two minutes to return, and the first thing you do is take both of your messenger bags onto your shoulder and dispose of your coffee mug on your desk.
You hold out a hand tentatively to him to help him up from his chair. “Here, let’s get you home,”
He takes your hand, slowly getting on his feet as his change in positioning sends another wave of pain shooting through the front of his head. He’s leaning on you for balance as you lead him out of the BAU office. His vision is still blurry, but at least having someone to lean on stops him from having to risk tripping over.
You have to help him into your car once your reach the parking lot, reclining the passenger’s seat as far back as it’ll go so that he’s not forced to sit upright for the whole ten minute drive.
You make an effort to keep the vehicle smooth as you pull out of the office, checking periodically over at your side to make sure that Spencer is alright. Or as alright as he can be anyway.
Once you reach Spencer’s apartment complex, you shut off the car and collect both of your belongings, getting out yourself and then walking around to assist Spencer in getting up.
It’s clear from his expression that he wouldn’t’ve managed the task on his own. He leans on you in a combination of gratitude, comfort and convenience, and he continues to use you as a crutch through the front entrance to the elevator and all the way up to his apartment door, where he struggles to insert his key in the lock through his shaking hands.
“You got it?”
He gives a weak “mhm” as he fumbles with the keys in the lock for a few seconds more, but eventually manages to unlock the door and step inside with you.
“Take a seat Spence,” You lead him carefully over to his couch and sit him down before walking across the room to pull his curtains shut and dump your bags on his reading chair.
As you pull the curtains shut and turn around again, you notice the room being a little messier than usual. Books and papers have been scattered over the room, and there were several mugs and glasses dotted around.
Clearly this wasn’t his first migrane.
Spencer is increasingly grateful the room isn’t too bright as the shade covers the room, allowing him to relax into the cushions of the sofa as you kneel to help him remove his shoes before removing your own.
He doesn’t resist your assistance. The pain still hasn’t subsided enough for him to be in the mood to resist anything. He keeps his eyes closed the whole time you unlace his shoes, just grateful for any relief he can get.
“l’m going to get you some water okay?” Spencer nods at this suggestion. At this point he’s too tired and nauseous to try and fight you, so as you leave the room, he lays his head over the back of the couch and just waits for you to come back with the water.
You return with both a glass of water and a small holding a few ice cubes, handing Spencer the glass and leaving the towel on the coffee table to chill under the presence of the ice. “Drink,”
He takes the glass from you, before slowly leaning forward and sipping the water. Your presence seems to bring him a lot of comfort, much more than he probably realises.
He continues drinking until the glass is empty, seemingly more dehydrated than he realised.
You take a seat next to Spencer has he finishes the glass, and you take it from him gently and place it down on his coffee table.
He takes a deep breath in, and out, leaning back into the couch once more.
He’s trying so hard to focus on something other than his pain, but it’s difficult. So instead he focuses on one of the only other things he can feel, which is the warmth you radiate as you sit next to him. “Here, lie down Spence,”
You put a hand on his shoulder to help try and ease him down slowly so he doesn’t put himself in any more pain. “But there’s no space..”
“You can put your head in my lap it’s okay,” You lean over to grab the now cold towel, leaving the ice in the empty glass before patting your thighs as an indication for him to lie down. “Let me see if I can relive some of that lingering tension,”
If he were of his right mind right now he would’ve been somewhat embarrassed in such a scenario, but right now he’s just too tired and in pain to do anything else but submit to the situation.
He lays his head into your lap slowly, his face relaxing as he looks up at you with grateful eyes.
You chuckle softly as he blinks up at you, leaning down over him slightly to brush some hair off of his forehead. “Close your eyes Spence,”
You can see a slight pinkness in his cheeks as he closes his eyes. His expression is the perfect combination of relaxed and sleepy, although you can still see the traces of the pain he’s feeling through the knit in his eyebrows and the tension in his shoulders.
Just hearing the sound of your voice fills his head with warmth and relaxation; Even if his head is still pounding he feels a lot better just being able to listen to you.
As his eyelids flutter closed, you place the damp cold towel over them, raking your fingers gently through his hair to ensure that nothing gets caught underneath the fabric ans slowly detangling it in the process.
For a moment your touch sends him into heaven, and he can actually feel the tension and pain receding from his body.
As he relaxes, his body slowly begins to respond to the touch with warm and fuzzy feelings. He wants to savour every second of this, to commit the sensation to memory, to never forget the feeling of your warm and gentle touch.
“How long have you been having migraines for Spencer?” You make an effort to keep your tone as soft as possible, moving your attention from running your hands through his hair to kneading your fingers against his temples.
“they’re a fairly recent thing… been having them on and off for a few weeks now….” As your hands work on his temples the pain once again starts to recede significantly. It’s still there, it probably will be for a long time, but it’s no longer all pervading. “…they can be a little debilitating some days….”
“Have you…” you trail off your question, unsure if your right to ask him it. “Never mind-“
He pulls the fabric of the towel from his eyes and blinks them up at you. The dark circles under his eyes are still clearly evident, but it’s not really surprising considering all that’s been happening to him. “…you were gonna ask if i’ve been using again weren’t you?”
“…i’m just worried about you…”
You continue to gently massage at his temples as he sees right through your apprehension.
He can’t help but sigh softly as you indirectly admit to him being right in his assumption of your question. Your concern is appreciated, albeit unnecessary. “…I’m not using anymore… I quit… I’m serious…”
He plasters a small smile on his face as a form of reassurance, though it’s pretty weak considering the fatigue his headache was providing him. “Just having a bad bout of migraines this week… that’s all….”
“Can I just- see your arms? Please?” Your fingers halt their movements as you ask the question, fully focused on receiving an answer. “I just want to make sure…”
His body tenses up a little bit as the request is made, but he complies nonetheless. He slowly raises his arms and hikes up his shirt sleeves, exposing the flesh of his forearms to your view.
There’s no marks on them, no dark scars and no signs of track marks.
He’s clean, and you can tell from his body language alone that he’s telling the truth.
You can feel your shoulders physically relax as your eyes examine his skin, and your expression softens as you look down at him. “thank you…”
“I told you, I’m serious about staying clean….” He lowers his arms, closing his eyes again. He’s back where he was a few minutes ago, a man almost fully at peace despite the fact that he’s still in pain.
“I know Spence..” You scratch gently at his scalp, feeling a little guilty about unofficially accusing him of a potential relapse. But you had to know. You had to know that he was alright.
“I just care about you… I want you to be okay..”
As your fingers brush the base of his scalp he shivers slightly. The feeling is incredibly relaxing, more so than even the previous massage. He smiles softly at the fact that the pain has at least become bearable for now. “Thanks for looking after me…”
“Always,” The pad of your thumb brushes lightly against his cheekbone as you move to tuck a stand of hair behind his ear, knocked loose by him pulling on the hand towel that now laid crumpled on the floor.
Spencer’s eyes flicker slightly. The movement of your fingers across his cheeks is soothing, but also makes him feel something else entirely. It’s hard to describe.
He can’t deny the sensation that rises up from his stomach at these small gestures of affection. A part of him is enjoying it more than is probably okay, given the situation and how tired he is. All it amounts to are butterflies, but that’s enough to make his cheeks flush slightly. “you should take a nap Spencer,”
“mhm…” He nods in agreement. “but can I ask you a small favour first…?”
You mirror his nod with one of your own, your fingers returning to scratching gentle lines against his scalp. “Of course you can,”
There’s a small moment of silence before he speaks again, his eyes flickering between you and the ceiling.
“can you stay with me?”
His question is more of a request, and you swear that you melt from the innocent pleading in his tone.
With you around it’s almost like he doesn’t notice the pain at all. When he closes his eyes it feels like the world is completely at peace, like there’s no need to worry about anything else at this moment in time.
“…please…?” the last word is almost a whisper.
You don’t hesitate in your answer, giving him a soft smile. “of course i will..”
You let out a small breath of air alongside your words, your eyes entranced with the relaxed expression on Spencer’s face, mixed with relief at your willingness to spend a few more hours with him.
Spencer feels a small smile form on his lips as you respond. His hands raise slightly and clutch at your thighs, gently gripping at them almost compulsively.
Now that he knows you’ll be sticking around for a while, all he wants to do is fall asleep in your company.
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munson-blurbs · 4 months
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Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries
Day 12 of TUI-Mas
Warnings: pregnancy, allusion to smut, contractions, water breaking, labor and delivery, and Eddie wasn't there, epidural, medical emergency, lots of fluff
WC: 4.3k
A/N: I could not have written this piece without @the-unforgivenn 💚 everything accurate in this fic is because of her, and everything inaccurate is because of me. I love you, Annie. Thank you for asking my random birth-related questions at all hours.
Divider credit to @saradika
November 4, 1999
At nine months pregnant, everything hurts.
Perhaps that’s why when you wake up for work with an extra pinch in your back, you cast off any worries. Or maybe it’s because you still have over a week until you’re due, and first babies tend to take their time arriving, so there’s no possible way that today is the day.
You shrug on a sweater and your most comfortable pair of maternity jeans, your body heavy with pregnancy and fatigue. Your movements are sluggish, even more so than usual, and Eddie notices as he stands out the counter, shoveling a spoonful of Honey Nut Cheerios into his mouth.
“You okay, Sweetheart?” he asks, tongue darting out to swipe a drip of milk from his lower lip.
Nodding, you massage just above your tailbone in a meager attempt to ease the pain. “Mhm,” you lie, grabbing two granola bars from the pantry. You unwrap one and take a big bite, letting the chocolate chips melt in your mouth. “Just ready to have this baby.” Another lie, or possibly a half truth; while you’re eager to have your body to yourself again, the prospect of labor and delivery terrifies you.
Eddie presses a kiss to your forehead, his palms gently rubbing your bump. “Eleven more days and then we’ll be a family of four.”
“Baby Brother is taking forever to get here,” Harris laments from his seat at the table, spearing a banana slice with his fork. He glances at your stomach with impatient eyes. “Can’t you do something to hurry him up?”
You cough as your husband’s cheeks flush pink; he rakes a ringed hand through his curls. No doubt he’s remembering last night when he’d innocently lifted your belly to relieve some of the pressure, only to find himself hard as a rock as his fingers lightly dug into your skin. I’ll go slow so I don’t send you into early labor, he’d remarked with a teasing wink. 
“Gotta be patient,” Eddie says now, seemingly having recovered from the brief flashback. He slurps the remaining milk from the bowl and stifles a belch, reaching for his jacket and keys. “Have a great day at work,” he kisses you, smiling against your lips, “and school.” He ruffles Harris’s hair, and just like that, he’s out the door. 
Harris finishes his breakfast, placing his empty plate in the sink and scampering to the door to put on his sneakers. You watch enviously as he ties them with ease; you’ve been relegated to slip-on shoes until your feet are no longer swollen. 
“Come on, Mommy,” he says, slinging his backpack over his shoulders. “I don’t wanna miss the bus.”
You silently pray that the short walk to the bus stop will ease your muscle tension, taking careful steps as you trail behind the far-too-energetic-for-8 AM little boy. 
Eleven more days. Only eleven more days, you tell yourself. The reminder has tears prickling along your lash line in a double-edged sword. You don’t think you can handle eleven more days of this discomfort, but will you truly be ready to have a newborn baby in less than two weeks? Once you give birth, you can no longer shield your baby from the world’s dangers and cruelties. Will your love be enough? Will you be enough? And how can you possibly figure it all out in just eleven days?
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Your mantra of eleven more days turns out to be just six hours. Since Will became a teacher two years ago, the two of you have made it a habit to spend time together after the students’ dismissal. You’re preparing art materials for tomorrow’s class when you feel it—a trickle of liquid sliding down your leg. 
Your eyes widen, heat crawling up your neck and into your face. I peed myself at work. It had happened once last month, but it was preceded by a sneeze, and you were already in the parking lot about to go home. When you’d told Eddie that evening, the two of you laughed so hard that you’d wet yourself again. 
But this feels…different. 
“Oh, no.” There’s another small stream, but it isn’t accompanied by any relief on your bladder. Your worried murmur gets Will’s attention, and he looks at you with concern. “I think my water broke, but I don’t know…it might just be pee…” Your voice trails off before you can speak in circles. 
Will leaps to his feet. “Okay, what do you need me to do?” The pair of scissors he’s been using to cut out paper stars clatter to the table as he rushes to your side. 
“Call Eddie,” you mumble, gripping your bump as a cramp—most likely a contraction, you realize—squeezes at your pelvis. “Tell him to—shit—to get my bag from the apartment and bring it to the hospital.” You bite your lip to stifle a groan. “I’ll call Wayne and ask him to get Harris from the bus.”  
He nods, dialing from the classroom phone as you rattle off the record store’s number. You pull your own Nokia cell phone—a purchase Eddie had insisted upon after you got pregnant, wanting to make sure you and Baby Munson stayed safe. 
“So, um,” Will hesitates after you’ve hung up with Wayne, ending the conversation with a promise to let him know as soon as the baby is born, “Eddie was in the middle of a guitar lesson, so I left a message with one of his employees—”
Please don’t say Ev, you wordlessly plead. Anyone but the stoner who can barely remember to show up to work on time. 
“Ev, I think?”
Shit. 
Will hooks his arm with yours, providing you with the stability to stand up. “Let’s get you to the hospital, all right? Maybe it’s a false alarm or something.”
You nod, but deep down, you know that this baby is on his way. Call it mother’s intuition, you muse wryly. 
After a quick stop in Principal Sinclair’s office to explain the situation, Will helps you into his Chevy Impala, grimacing along with you when another contraction hits. “Should we be timing those?”
You grit your teeth. “Shit, y-yeah. I completely forgot.” All those birthing books you’d read cover to cover to prepare for this moment, and you hadn’t even remembered to time your own damn contractions. “We need to track how long they last and the amount of time between them.”
Will remains unfazed. “We’ll just start now,” he says simply, flicking his wrist to check his watch. “It’s 2:32. Let me know when you get another one.” He turns the key in the ignition, taking your hand before putting the gear shift into drive. “It’ll be okay. Eddie’s gonna get the message, and he’ll be here soon.”
It’s as though he can read your mind, and you exhale a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. He’s right; if you are in labor, it’s still early enough that Eddie won’t miss the birth. 
You hope. 
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Your contractions are one minute long and twelve minutes apart by the time you reach Hawkins General Hospital, growing slightly stronger with each wave. Will relays the information to the receptionist, his voice wavering with nerves and excitement despite his best efforts to remain calm. 
Before you know it, you’re being wheeled into a room, a laminated bracelet with your personal details dangling from your wrist. The clock on the wall indicates that it’s just past 3 PM, which means that Eddie should be here in a few minutes. 
As if on cue, the cell phone in your purse chirps its familiar ringtone. Harris had insisted that you change it from the standard option, choosing one that sounds like birds chirping. It normally reminds you of springtime mornings; right now, you’re ready to throw it through the window. 
Will passes it to you, and you punch the answer button with an impatient, “hello?”
“Hey, Sweetheart,” Eddie’s carefree demeanor wafts through the speaker, “just wanted to check in and see if you’re feeling any better. Did you want me to pick up something from the store on my way—?”
Dammit, Ev. “Eddie, my water broke at work. Will called earlier and left a message,” you manage, maneuvering around the heart rate monitor to brace for another contraction. “I’m—ughhh, shit—I’m at the hospital.”
“What?!” You can hear his sudden shift to panic; the phone drops from his grasp and clatters on the counter before he retrieves it, uttering a slew of swear words. “Okay, I’ll be right there. Your bag’s at home, right? Oh, and Harris! Shit, let me—”
“Wayne’s on it,” you tell him, hopefully putting an end to his mile-a-minute thoughts. “I just need my bag and my husband.” 
There’s a relieved sigh on the other end of the line. “I can provide both.” His humor peeks through his fear in subtle reassurance. “Be there ay-sap. I love you so fucking much.” 
“Love you, too.” A soft click tells you that he’s on his way, probably simultaneously scrambling for his keys and shouting at his employee. 
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Nearly an hour later, there’s still no sign of Eddie. Will blots the perspiration on your forehead with a cloth; out of the corner of your eye, you can see that he’s watching the clock as well. “He’ll be here,” he says as though reading your mind. Or maybe he’s scared that he’ll have to stand in for Eddie throughout the entire process. “In the meantime, I’ll flag down a nurse so we can get you that epidural.” His words are even, but his smile is uneasy, both of you well-aware that he is out of his element. Though he’ll deny it vehemently, you know you owe him. Big-time.
“Why don’t you grab yourself some food from the cafeteria?” You’d heard his stomach growling just before, and he can certainly use a break. 
Will nods, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Do you want anything?” he asks out of habit, cheeks tinged pink as you shake your dismal cup of ice chips. “Oh, right. Sorry.” He ducks out of the room as a nurse walks in. 
“Are we considering an epidural, Mrs. Munson?” she asks. Her bright smile is one you’ll be unable to return until after the pain medication takes effect. 
“Y-Yeah, please.” You shift uncomfortably while she examines you and announces that your cervix is four centimeters dilated. Part of you is relieved that labor is progressing at a pace where Eddie should arrive in time for the delivery; another part just wants this baby out of you, now. 
The nurse makes a note on your chart. “I’ll let the anesthesiologist know.” Another unreciprocated grin and she’s gone, off to poke and prod the next patient. 
Alone for a moment, you relish the quiet, save for the soft beeps of the machines you’re connected to. With great care, you caress the swell of your stomach where your son has developed from a microscopic speck to a full-term baby. 
“Your daddy will get here soon,” you murmur to your sensor-covered belly, “hopefully before you do.” You laugh for a second until another contraction squeezes you from the inside, shifting your expression from amused to pained. 
The anesthesiologist and Will arrive at the same time, the former pausing to let your impromptu birth partner enter first. He walks with more enthusiasm now that he’s eaten, though his meal threatens to reappear when he sees the doctor pull out the comically oversized needle. 
“Just lean forward,” she says to you, “you’ll feel some pressure, but once the medication kicks in, it’ll be worth it.” She offers you a kind smile before turning to Will and explaining, “you may need to help her.”
“Mhm. Sure.” Will mumbles, avoiding looking at the needle. You clasp your hand in his so you can sit up. The cool air raises goosebumps on the sliver of flesh no longer covered by the gown, but the chill is quickly replaced by a stinging sensation that has you gripping Will’s palm. You don’t realize the strength of your grasp until you hear him mutter, “ow,” but you don’t let go until the burning ceases. 
“Sorry,” you say sheepishly, watching him shake out his hand. “About all of this. I’m sure this isn’t how you wanted to spend your afternoon.”
He shakes his head and guides you back against the pillow. “Maybe not, but I’m glad I can be here for you.” Now that the threat of broken fingers has passed, he truly means it. 
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5:46 PM. 
You’ve been in the hospital for nearly three hours, and there’s still no sign of Eddie. Will’s casually flipping through a copy of People magazine that’s so outdated, Nick Nolte was just crowned the Sexiest Man Alive. He’s visibly more relaxed now that the medication has eased your pain, chattering teeth a welcome replacement for your anguished moans.
Your concern that Eddie will miss the baby’s birth has hardened into pure fear that something has happened to him. What if he lost focus while driving and got into an accident? The weather was overcast when you’d arrived at Hawkins General; it could have started raining since then and created slippery roads, perfect for hydroplaning. The thought of him hurt while you’re unable to help him has your insides churning, and for the first time, you’re grateful for an empty stomach.
Maybe you should call Wayne and find out if he had heard from his nephew. But if he hadn’t, then both of you would be stuck worrying and answerless; even worse, if he had and didn’t want to relay bad news while you’re in such a vulnerable state–
“I’m here!” 
Relief surges through your veins, Eddie’s panting voice music to your ears. You roll from your side onto your back to see your husband standing by your bedside. Sweat drips down his temples and pools under his arms with the pungency of someone who’d just completed a marathon. His chest heaves as he catches his breath, a jacket haphazardly tossed over his shoulder and your bag clutched in his hand.
He swoops down and places his lips on yours in a series of frantic kisses, his free palm cupping your cheek as though ensuring that the moment is real. He only pulls back when you do, getting a glimpse of your face.
“Where were you?” Not an accusation, but a question threaded with genuine care. 
His nose nudges yours as he sneaks in another peck. “Did you know that Chief Hopper retired?” Your brows furrow in confusion at his non-answer to your question. “Well, he did, and the sheriff’s department decided to throw him a parade. Today. Closed off a bunch of the side streets and backed up traffic on the main ones.” He coughs out a terse laugh. “Glad I quit smoking, or my lungs would’ve given up before I hit a half-mile.”
You mull over his response for a moment before it finally clicks. “Wait…did you run here?”
He tugs at his shirt fabric in an attempt to create a breeze that will cool him down. “It was more like a walk-run combo, but…yeah.” He shrugs, no big deal. “Parked my car in a random lot and just…booked it.” His shoulder gently sag as the adrenaline from his adventure wears away. “I gotta sit.”
It’s then that he notices Will, rising from the chair and placing the gossip rag on the table beside him. “Byers, holy shit,” Eddie looks at him incredulously, “have you been here with her the whole time?”
“He has,” you answer for him, managing a grateful smile in your friend’s direction. “And I can’t thank him enough.” Will returns the gesture and pulls Eddie in for a hug, wishing you both luck before slipping out the door.
Eddie brings his full attention back to you, lacing his fingers with yours. His thumb brushes the side of your hand, bringing small but strong comfort with each gentle touch. “Sweetheart, I am so, so sorry–”
“Eds,” you interrupt before he can continue his apology, “you’re here now.”
“Yeah.” Soft, distracted, overthinking. You can practically see the gears in head spinning, His second child and the second time he’d nearly missed the birth. He clears his throat and shakes away the thought with a toss of his hair, swiping his tongue over his lower lip. “How are you feeling?” He takes in the sight of you, his wife, the most beautiful being his cynical eyes have ever seen. “You look pretty damn good for someone about to have a baby.”
You laugh. “That epidural is a miracle from above.” You’ll gladly take the chattering teeth and the itchiness over the sensation of your pelvis imploding. Eddie doesn’t share in your amusement, still focused on his own shortcomings. “Hey,” you say quietly, pulling him out of his mind with just one word. “Don’t think about the missed message or the traffic. We’re having our baby today.” You bring his hand to the apex of your stomach in the final few hours that it houses the life you two created together.
“I love you.” 
His eyes shine with emotion. He’s here, not only in this moment, but throughout the entire pregnancy. He didn’t bury himself in music or booze or other arbitrary distractions. He’d read What to Expect When You’re Expecting cover to cover, had gone to all of the doctor’s appointments, made sure to keep the kitchen stocked with your cravings and free of your aversions. He’d picked up the household chores (and delegated some to Harris) to ease your workload and wiped your tears when you’d cried while watching two squirrels play in a tree. 
You never asked him to do any of it; you never needed to. 
“I love you, too.”
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It all happened so quickly. 
One minute, Eddie’s watching the monitor spike with a contraction, utterly bewildered by the power of pain medication. 
“You really can’t feel that?”
“Just some pressure, but nothing like earlier. I told you; it’s a godsend.”
After hours of strategic breathing, a plethora of ice chips, and a steady outpouring of love between you two, you’re about to tell him that you feel the urge to push. 
And then a nurse rushes in. 
“Mr. and Mrs. Munson,” he begins, urgency evident even through his calm exterior, “your baby is experiencing late heart rate deceleration. We need to begin delivery immediately.” He glances at Eddie, then at you. “I’m going to check your dilation to see if we’ll try a vaginal delivery or prepare for a cesarean birth.”
 The blood drains from Eddie’s face as he processes the information, the lighthearted energy completely zapped from the room. “Is…is she…are they…”
The nurse finishes the examination, removing his rubber glove. “Ten centimeters,” he announces. “I’ll page the doctor.”
It’s a whirlwind, with almost no time for panic to set in. The doctor and the other nurses arrive immediately, and when Eddie takes your hand, you can feel him trembling. 
He takes a deep breath, willing himself to be strong for you. Your face says it all: you’re terrified, and you need him to be your rock.
“You’ve got this, Sweetheart,” he whispers fiercely, pushing past the lump in his throat. “You’re the strongest fucking person I know, and I’m so lucky that you’re having my baby.” He kisses your forehead; out of the corner of his eye, he sees the medical staff preparing for delivery. His heart skips a beat, and the realization hits that he’s about to be a father of two.
You’re exhausted, a salty mixture of sweat and tears decorating your face. Gritting your teeth, you push while Eddie coaches you, reminding you to breathe and allowing you to swear at him without even batting an eyelash. It’s mostly a blur, with all of your energy concentrated on getting this baby out, but you vaguely recall telling him that he’s not allowed to even think about touching you again.
“Almost there,” he cheers, flashing an awestruck smile so wide that his cheeks ache. “C’mon, you can do it! Oh, my god, you’re a goddamn superhero.” 
Three giant pushes later, you hear the telltale newborn wail as a nurse coos, “Happy birthday, little man! Here’s your mama!” She gently places your tiny baby on your chest, quickly wiping off the vernix covering his body. 
“He’s here!” you manage through simultaneous laughter and cries. You carefully hold him against you, kissing the wisps of curls on his scalp. “Hi, baby boy!” Turning to Eddie, you blink away the mist coating your eyes. “We have another son,” you choke out.
He just nods, relishing in the wonder of becoming a father again. His pointer finger grazes the baby’s little half-closed fist, only looking away when the nurse asks him if he’d like to cut the umbilical cord. “Y-Yeah. Please,” he awkwardly adds, doing exactly as he’s instructed. 
As the baby is lifted from your torso to be assessed and measured, Eddie kisses you with a passion you’ve never felt before, even from him. You can see that he’s crying, too, and he wipes his cheeks haphazardly.  
“I’m so proud of you,” he says, punctuating the statement with another kiss. “I couldn’t have asked for a better mother for my kids.” His nose rubs yours tenderly. 
You smile at him. “Do you want to call Wayne? I won’t be up for visitors until the morning,” you add, “but I just want to let him know that the baby’s here, happy and healthy.”
“In a bit,” he murmurs, watching the nurse carefully swaddle his newborn son in a hospital blanket. “I just wanna hold him first.”
Eddie takes your baby from the nurse, shifting to support his head. “Hey, buddy. I’m your dad.” His body slowly sways as he rocks back and forth. “You gave us quite the scare just now. I see you’re following in your big brother’s mischievous footsteps.” He swears his heart melts when the infant opens his mouth to yawn. “Yeah, you’ve had a busy day. Same here. But it was worth it, huh?”
He wears fatherhood so naturally, so perfectly. You wish you could capture this feeling in a jar and save it forever. For now, you settle for watching him fawn over his newest son, your eyelids heavy with exhaustion. The last thing you hear before you fall asleep is Eddie murmuring, “and let me tell you: you have the best mommy a kid could ever ask for.”
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Morning arrives after a restless sleep. You know the nurses are just following protocol when they examine you every hour, but that doesn’t mean you have to be happy about it. 
But the next knock on the door is one that you welcome willingly. Harris and Wayne stand there, waiting for permission to enter. You smile when you notice Harris shuffling his feet and shaking his hands in an attempt to expel some excess energy. 
“Come on in,” Eddie whispers, beaming, “there’s someone very special we’d like to introduce you to.”
Harris rushes to your bedside, peering at the bundle in your arms. “My baby brother!” he squeals, jumping up and down. 
Eddie puts a finger to his lips. “He’s sleeping, so we have to be quiet, okay?” He ruffles Harris’s hair as the boy nods. “Do you wanna hold him?”
“Yeah! I mean, yeah,” Harris lowers his voice, sitting down on the bed. You scoot over, careful not to move too quickly, and he melds into your side. He’s always been small to you, but compared to his baby brother, he seems so grown up. 
“Okay, hold out your arms like this,” Eddie instructs, demonstrating the correct position, “and you’re gonna make sure to keep his head nice and safe, because he can’t hold it up on his own yet.”
Harris sports a look of concentration as you and Eddie work in tandem to place the baby in his arms. “He’s got the teeniest nose I’ve ever seen.”
Wayne laughs at this, watching his older grandson snuggle his youngest. “Does this little fella have a name yet?”
“Oh, right.” Eddie chuckles. “Gentlemen, this is Hendrix William Munson. ‘Hendrix’ after one of the most talented guitarists to grace this planet, and ‘William’ after an amazing friend and substitute birth partner.”
“Hendrix,” Harris repeats incredulously, never taking his eyes off of his brother. “I’m Harris. I talked to you when you were in Mommy’s tummy, remember?” Hendrix lets out a long exhale, like he’s acknowledging the question. “I know you’re still too little right now, but when you get big, we’re gonna play together all the time. Except when I’m at school.” He looks over at you expectantly. “Can I bring him to school with me? Like for show and tell?”
“Maybe when he’s older,” you say, lacking the bandwidth to point out the logistics of his request. 
Harris wrinkles his nose, but his expression quickly softens. “Yeah, you’re right. He can’t even do any tricks yet.”
It’s quiet for a moment, everyone focused on the two Munson boys. Surprisingly, Wayne is the one who breaks the silence. 
“You two have one beautiful family,” he muses, an arthritic finger grazing Hendrix’s blanket. “Y’should be proud of yourselves.”
Eddie gives his uncle’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Couldn’t have done it without ya, Old Man.”
Wayne knows this, accepting the compliment with a bashful grin but saying nothing further. 
Peacefulness surrounds the five of you, soft conversation seamlessly weaving its way into the calm. You can’t kid yourself; most days will be pure chaos, balancing spit-up and school plays, field trips and feeding schedules. And once Hendrix starts walking—and running—you’ll need all cylinders firing. 
But today, right now, you soak in the serenity. Just you and your boys. Your family. 
--
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