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#^ one of my childhood job prospects.
absentmoon · 10 months
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i still want to be a writer
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supportmyfamily1 · 9 days
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Suffering of my family ... please give us your attention
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All my family members are currently in Gaza: my brothers Ahmed, Osama, Moatasim, and Mohammed, along with their families, and my elderly parents. Ahmed's family includes three children: Qusay, Lyan, and Ayda. Osama's family also has three children: Yahya, Sewar, and Yamen. Moatasim’s family consists of two children: Maria and Aysha. Mohammed is 22 years old.
They once lived in safety and peace, each having their own home which provided them with happiness, warmth, and love. Ahmed and Osama worked as dental technicians, Moatasim was a delivery driver, and Mohammed was training to become a dental technician with the dream of opening his own practice.
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Before the war, they led normal lives—visiting one another, going on trips, and sharing laughs and smiles. But everything changed on October 7, 2023, when war broke out in Gaza. This horrific conflict destroyed their lives, taking away their homes, jobs, safety, and dreams, and tragically claiming many of our relatives.
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Two weeks into the war, my family was forced to flee their home in Tel Alhawa, escaping south to the Deir Albalah area to save their lives. Now, they live in tents with no access to water, electricity, sanitation, or food. These dire conditions have led to numerous health issues, especially for the children, including skin diseases and Hepatitis B infections.
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Every day, my family struggles to survive in these appalling conditions. This has become a nightmarish reality. The funds raised by this campaign will be used to:
Provide Medical Care and Treatment: My parents urgently need medical support. My father has undergone heart catheterization due to blocked arteries, while my mother suffers from high blood pressure and heart problems. They require both medical attention and nutritious food.
Offer Health Treatment for Qusay, four-year child, who recently had a difficult throat operation, needs ongoing healthcare and speech therapy. His condition has left him struggling with speech difficulties, and he requires urgent speech therapy, healthy nutrition and Phycological treatment.
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Supply Essential Living Needs: My family is without any means of income and is unable to afford basic necessities such as food, water, childhood needs, medicine, and cleaning products.
Rent a House Before Winter: Currently living in tents, my family faces the prospect of enduring harsh winter conditions without proper shelter. Renting a house before winter sets in is crucial to their survival and well-being.
Your donation and sharing my family campaign can make a significant difference during this devastating time. Thank you for your attention and generosity.
vetted by @moayesh , info here
And also vetted by @bilal_salah0, info here
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prettyboykatsuki · 5 months
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BLOOD FEUDS, ANCIENT AND MODERN | RYOMEN SUKUNA.
✮ tags ; no curses au, blood incest, use of honorifics (oji-san) abuse (mostly verbal / emotional), classism, grooming / generally predatory behavior, large age gaps (20+ yrs), blood feuds, imbalanced power dynamics, white collar crime, afab + fem!niece!reader, uncle sukuna, the word rape used in text, non/dubcon (not noncon necessarily), fingering, petnames (little one, kid, little lamb), thigh-fucking, and other things, very horrible and gross sukuna behavior 18+
this is very dark and it deals BRIEFLY with sukuna being very predatory to reader when she's UNDERAGE / young. nothing explicit happens WHILE she is underage, but sukuna does leer at reader and it is mentioned. please proceed with caution !!!
PLEASE HEED THE TAGS BEFORE YOU PROCEED!!!
✮ wc ; 10.3k (???????????)
✮ a/n ; thank you vic @saintshigaraki for always indulging my nonsense and also tomfoolery. kissing you.
i'll be honest lads this one got away from me BAD jksdfhjs. i think its interesting at least.I KNOW THE TAGS ARE WICKED but i promise its like. kind of sexy at least.
also yes the title is from the rdr2 soundtrack shhh
✮ synopsis ; blood is thicker than water. resentment, you think, is thicker than both.
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Bastard.
An intimately familiar title, lacking tooth and effect. It's meaning eroded with time and usage - and a moniker you've wielded proudly for as long as you can remember. You don't recall much of your life before it became part of you.
The daughter born of wedlock. Bastard daughter. The only remaining stain to your family's reputation aside from your late father.
Your mother often tells you that you were her hardest child to birth. When you were littler it was a story relayed to you with affection, and but now it's with such bitter hatred you can feel it lodged in your throat.
The most important element is the predestination in it. You came into the world kicking and screaming, throat hoarse and violent. From birth, you knew you were half-forged with bad blood and came into the world trying to be absolved of it. It's shaped your life, your relationships, everything about you.
The other half of your DNA, the good half, is from your father. Before you were a bastard, you were your parents' only child. Your father was a good man. The best you know. An average, humble man. From a generation of other working class men with a tough job in construction. Your best memories come from when he was still alive.
A quiet life, untainted by the residual bitterness of your mothers heritage. You lived away from it, outside of it. The mother in your memories from back then seem like a dream now, some mirage from long ago - disinterested in anything but you and your father. Your mama and papa. Your father took good care of you both, and your mother loved him madly.
You lived as a normal family in a small apartment just outside of Gifu for the first seven years of your life. You attended a small local school and had friends with crooked teeth and messy hair.
Your childhood was mostly happy if you break it up into pieces like that. Blissfully uneventful.
There's a concise break of change of what your life was versus what became of it. Your fathers death the splinter in the wood, separating the two halves.
The worst of your childhood, of course, came in your fathers passing. Not just because of the loss, but what it made of your life. His funeral welcomed people of all walks of life with the most notable absence of your elusive mothers side of the family.
Another old memory you have with your mother is looking at her face during your fathers wake. The deep darkness of her eyes, sunken in and hollow. The first time you ever found her terrifying instead of comforting. While the world mourned your father, your mother—you think—mourned her life.
Forced into single motherhood with no prospects and no career, your mother decided it was best for the both of you to return home.
You think the worst of your life started there.
Your mother's side of the family has never welcomed you with open arms. You wouldn't come to know why until much later. You were a child then. There's no way you could've known about feuds that deep.
The only thing you knew was that you were hated vehemently, and nothing could change that.
Your grandmother's estate was always frightening to you in your childhood. You've yet to grow out of that feeling despite living there for the last fifteen years. It's remained unchanged since you moved in and the lights in the hall never seems bright enough. Jade green painted walls and white tile floors. Some rooms have classically Japanese flooring and heirloom paintings from the Heian era. Others modernized with sterile whites and grays and house plants that add no life to it at all. Stretched wide with tens of rooms, and easy for a child to get lost in.
A sinking abyss. A terrible place. A dark labyrinth. Anxiety inducing to even think about now. No place for a child your size or your age.
The best way to describe your childhood after your father died was cold. Removed from your life in the suburbs and placed among other rich kids, you became overtly self-conscious of the differences between you and them. Them being anyone who grew up wealthy and your other extended family. You were constantly reminded of your place as the bastard child. Later learning how your mother left her fiance many years ago for your father, your poor and worthless father.
(You theorize any warmth that your mother had for you was buried in your dead dads casket. Living there, among them, made sure she'd never find it again.)
Your mother is the most complicated part of your life. You don't have a time for when she gave up on raising you. There was a year when she tried, you think. For the most part, you lived in that house utterly alone. 
At first that abandonment was miserable (as it would be to any child, certainly) but a time came where you were glad you saw so little of her.
Your mother, who you had once loved and thought highly of, became a pitiful prey animal in the four walls of your grandmother's house. Small and anxious and utterly hateful. A bunny born with some cosmic knowledge and horrific understanding that its destiny is to become food for a wolf. Viciousness between her siblings, no doubt fostered by your grandparents and their establishment, tore apart the aspects of her your father mended and ruined her. You were too little to stop it. 
Blood feuds that ran bone-chillingly deep plagued most of the interactions with your extended family for as long as you've been a part of them. Your mother has exactly four siblings. Two sisters between her with her as the middle daughter, and two brothers. One of which is estranged so completely you don't know his name.
And the other being your Uncle Sukuna.
Your hatred for your aunts and their children came to you rather naturally. For every gala and ball and charity fund your worthless bloodline ever raised, came catty arguments and verbal abuse from the shallow mouths of your beloved cousins. You had nothing to prove to anyone in that house. You were detested since your birth and your grandparents made no small effort to show you through as much neglect and verbal lashing as they could get away with.
Rotten girl. Cursed daughter. You're the reason your mother is like this. You're the reason she is miserable. You should've been buried with your father.
Compared to the experience of your grandfather ripping into you at age ten for simply being alive, your cousin's commentary on you was remarkably uninteresting. You resented them for being nuisances, though, with the exception of maybe one who bucked it out of that place as soon as they could. Just like you planned too.
For a long time, Sukuna wasn't around enough to have a real presence in your consciousness. You tried not to think of your extended family more than you had too. You got used to not knowing about your relatives living there, but there was no one so elusive as him.
It was as if, increasingly, you heard whispers of his name at everything you were forced to attend.
The first time you ever meet your Uncle, you're freshly sixteen. It's the birthday party your mother throws for you each year in an effort to show how close the two of you are to the rest of your relatives.
The first time you see Sukuna in person, the only thing on your mind is how much he stands out from the rest of your relatives. He's a head taller than the tallest person there, and he's...bigger. He's not clean or neat, scruff lining his chin. Old, dark eyes. Visible tattoos that reek of disgraced son and hardly of prodigy.
At sixteen, you understood intimately what your family considered to be gold standard. Your uncle was antithetical to it. His very existence a paradox to the ideas you've had been hammered into you for years. Dyed hair, piercings, tattoos - his suit jacket undone to expose his chest. Lacking respect and formality and dignity. 
He was a lot like you. You got that impression, somehow.
When your eyes met with your uncles for the first time, you had your second fully formed thought about him.
Dangerous. Like an alarm. Like a ringing bell, throbbing through your skull and pulsing through your teeth. Some part of you just knew that he was a very dangerous man. Not just a wealthy one.
The first conversation you ever had with your uncle proves to be the most significant. Brief, yet - tonal in all ways. The gold standard for how he viewed you. How he would view you.
How he would treat you.
("So you're the new brat,"
Your uncle is an imposing man. You are sixteen and slightly tipsy, which is the least horrible thing you could be since your other cousin is coked out in the bathroom upstairs. You sway, staring at him. You think that's disrespectful.
He's the kind of man who might kill you for that. Might hit you. But you don't find it in yourself to challenge your defiance when you're far from sober and even father form happy. You lean your weight to one side and hum.
"New bastard," You correct him, and take another sip of the flute of champagne in your hand. "My worthless fathers, worthless daughter."
Sukuna pauses, his eyes widening before his lips break out into a grin. You wonder if it's because you're drunk. You think he's staring at you. Your eyes are too blurry to tell but you think he's gazing down the low dip of your top. At the curve of your chest. Leering at the body you've yet to even grow into.
"Tenacious," Your uncle says, and takes a long drink of his sake. You stare at the edge of his glass, carmine eyes gazing so deeply at you - you think you'll throw up. "You're your mothers daughter. Through and through.")
The night of your sixteenth birthday, your uncle announced he'd be opening a business venture in Tokyo. All this time he'd been doing work overseas, but seeing family helped finalized his decision. You remember the look on his face when he announced it. Remembered his eyes searching on you through the crowd as he held the mic up to his lips. How he named you the main reason, one conversation and he grew so fond of his little niece. That you were a clever girl, and that even though he hadn't known you long - he was sure you'd go so far.
Happy Birthday to you, little lamb.
You remember best the feeling afterwards. How the crowd went nearly silent. Hundreds of eyes darting your way in seas of strangers. All the attention people hadn’t paid suddenly mattering, all the congratulations. You remember how they crowded you and how your uncle came to your rescue with a cheeky grin and air of nonchalance.
You remember feeling sick. You remember the chill creeping up your spine, bile in your throat - all wet eyes and nausea.
Your uncle is a dangerous man. And you, the uninteresting bastard daughter, had caught his full attention.
The next four years of your life would pass so slowly, you often wondered during them, if you died that night and you'd live through these days as punishment for the crime of existing.
A little after your birthday, your uncle moved back to Japan permanently - in a residence not far from your grandmother's estate. He became a permanent fixture in your life. Many things came with that reality, none of them being especially pleasant.
You learn three things in the four years you spend with your uncle in your life.
The first is that your uncle is more powerful than you can really understand.
Through conversations at your kitchen table about his escapades abroad, you learn nothing of the work he actually does. Only what it involves, who it involves - foreign governments and people much more powerful than your family. Your uncle has ties to the Gojo family, and the Zenins'. Your time here teaches you that they make up two halves of private militarized arms and they work domestically and internationally. The only thing you need to know about them is they are filthy rich, richer than your own family and twice as corrupt.
And Sukuna works with them. Knows them rather intimately, from the pictures you've seen of Sukuna and Gojo Satoru drinking together - two prodigal sons with silver spoons and unsettling demeanors.
The second thing you learn is that your uncle's power and influence extend past all borders and include your grandparents and relatives. In the years he'd been away from home, he's garnered a formidable reputation. You never cared to notice it before, but it's all you can see now. Every arrogant, vapid relative you have the displeasure of calling family sees your uncle as some sort of king. The golden ticket to grandparents approval. A wishing well for all their hopes and dreams - so long as they appease him.
They fawn over him. Sukuna knows it. But they're all so busy trying to get on his good side they never catch his subtleties. Never seem to notice the cold sarcasm and biting edge to his questions. They pander and peacock to him constantly, but not one of them has sense enough to understand him a little deeper. Except you, incidentally. That's part of your problem
The third thing you learn about your uncle is that he takes pleasure in your cleverness no one in your life has since.... who knows? Since your father died, you think.
And you are clever. A head smarter than the rest of your family and a try-hard in all aspects. You graduated highschool top of your class and got scholarships into better schools. It was never about proving your worth of course, but about survival. You wanted away from this place, and the only way to cut your ties completely is to carve a life for yourself. Academia, education, using your name to make connections - you've been working silently on it since you were in middle school.
The only person who'd ever noticed your accomplishments was Sukuna. In between his work, he'd visit you in your room. You grew close in one sense of the word. It was a secret kept between you - but Sukuna often reminded you of it. That he saw you for who you were when no one else did. That his interest in you exceeds your own understanding, and it'd be in your best interest to remember that.
Some half-way between threats and affection, for four years - your uncle remained at your side. Uneasy as you were, he'd never try to advance on you while you were still in highschool. Some part of you knew he wasn't above it. Rather his interest hinged on getting to know you.
Your uncle is above all things manipulative.
Rather he preferred to keep you on your toes during the duration of your time together. To get close but not too close. To get to know each other openly. Your uncle made sure everyone in your family knew of his fondness for you. He'd keep you close to his side or follow you around, always in public places with a million eyes. He'd whisper to you, laughed and asked questions.
You hated being the center of attention, so Sukuna turned it on you any chance he got. It made it hard for you to refuse him, but mostly it made it hard to go under the radar without his protection. It made it hard for your relatives to insult and berate you.
You hated it. You hated accepting his kindness, because you know your uncle well enough to know that everything in the world came with a cost. And that this protection is little more than luxury, promised to you as long as you played nice.
And you always did play nice. But you were cautious. Never alone too long in the same room. Never somewhere too late. Never drunk, never high. Always within distance of a door. Sukuna was a dangerous man, and you may be a bastard but you're no fool.
It'd work for years. You evaded any real alone time with him for years. Years.
Until earlier this year where your mother had made arrangements for you to spend the summer with your dear old Uncle - in his villa, far from the safety of Japan's main island.
In the years of your uncle's favoritism towards you, no one has been more pleased than your mother. You've come to hate her for it. Your relationship hasn't been good in years and for her to suddenly attempt to be your mother again felt like a mockery.
(It mostly felt like a betrayal. You didn't think she could betray you a second time after she all but abandoned you the minute she stepped foot in that house.
Like something possessing the corpse of the mama in your dreams, your seething hatred towards her started then you think.)
You'd spent years indifferent to her, but it was this change that made you hate her down to your bones. You were furious about the decision. Furious she didn't bother asking, furious about all of it.
About everything.
An entire summer alone with the man you know to be most dangerous to you. You wouldn't put it past Sukuna, to plan this around you - but it didn't make it any less frustrating.
("You'll be going with your uncle," Your mother says, hardly listening to you. There's a baby on her hip, your half-brother and a vacant look in her eyes. You feel your jaw tighten. "We've already made plans. Your stepfather,"
"Your husband." You correct. Your mother gives you a tight-lipped smile.
"We are going on a family vacation. Your grandparents wouldn't tolerate you here alone , so you're going and that's final."
"I don't need to live with you," You seethe, fighting the urge to grab her and punch her. You've never been violent. Your mother makes you homicidal. "I can find my own fucking place, I'm twenty I don't need-"
She slams something. Your half-brother makes watery eyes. She stares at you distantly, righteously angry. Whether she's earned that anger or not, it makes your mood worse. .
"This is the least you could for me. For us." She hisses, turning around. You think of killing her. "For all the shit you put me through."
"What I put you through? Fuck you," You admit, your throat burning like a star falling through the atmosphere. Then, through a shaky breath"There's something off about him, mom. Do you understand what I'm fucking saying? Where you're sending me?
Three expressions pass over her face. The ghost of grief, some kind of solace and then more vacancy. She swallows, turns around to keep folding baby clothes. Her voice trembles. She knows she's sending you to your doom. Knows what waits for you as soon as you go.
"You're going. We need this." She says, and still doesn't turn to look at you. Her voice is so frigid it doesn't sound like hers anymore. "That's final."
You shouldn't be shocked by it anymore, but it doesn't make it easier.
You slam the door on your wait out. You hope their plane crashes on the way there.)
You tried your best to worm your way out of the situation before the semester closed out. But Sukuna, three steps ahead of you at all times, made sure that wasn't possible. Your uncle owned a villa out on an island, private - and the bags had already been packed. You'll like it there, he assured you so many times, it's comfortable. There's a good view and the kids in the place will remind you of the kids you grew up with.
(It's hard not to notice the ways in which Sukuna tempts you into wanting to go. Though there's nothing, truly, that could make the experience a pleasant one - it's posed to appeal to you. A place to remind you of your childhood. You try not to think about it.)
Despite your protests, despite your vehement frustration - there was nothing you could do but go. If you didn't go with Sukuna, it'd be enduring 3 months alone with your grandparents. You could try to crash with friends but the friends you've made so far wouldn't dream of being so polite and you dare not think of burdening your childhood friends with your family problems. They deal with enough as is.
The last option was running away. You're desperate enough to entertain it. You do, several times - considering what the worst outcome could be. All scenarios end with Sukuna coming to find you, because he's crazy and connected like that. Even if he's deliberate in not displaying those parts of himself, you know his apathy to be a facade.
You know him well. He knows you well. It feels like a competition to see who can outsmart the other that you were forced into with no say.
So, come the end of your third year of college - a driver picks you up right as your finals are finished to take you to the airport. A private jet, a nauseating display of wealth just for your uncle to torment you with you're sure.
On the plane ride to a small island on the coast of Japan, you think to yourself that all gods in the world must've abandoned you before you were ever born.
__
The first few weeks of your stay in the island of Nii-jima prove to be uneventful.
For a small island, it's still governed through something related to Tokyo. It's not the city or even the country, some quiet and relaxing in between. There are people here who've lived for generations and others who are only touring. Your uncle's villa though, is far from all life - and a few miles out from a beach.
You can hardly understand what a single man needs such a big house for. There's staff there too, though less than at your grandparents place which you're grateful for. You've met six of eight, two of them people who take care of the yards and garden.
Sato-san is the woman you see most often. The one cook Sukuna has and the woman who's been working longest. She is kindhearted and sturdy, often bringing her grandchildren with her. She's quiet and motherly - and so warm you're unsure of how to behave around her. Your uncle is seemingly fond of her which is saying a lot. She speaks highly of him. 
It's been so long since you've experienced something like maternal warmth, you're awkward around her. You try to not be too attached, try not to be fond of anything in this house because you know something horrible and dormant lies within it and you do not want to stay. Don't even want to entertain the idea of staying.
But Sato-san is good to you, with wrinkles and sunspots and a bright laugh. Her grandchildren are so well-behaved you wonder about how they were raised. A girl about seven and a boy about four, always quiet and inattentive. You've grown fond of them too, despite how bad you normally are with children. They're easy to be around.
You're frustrated mainly because you don't hate being here. The people are kind and welcoming and everyone locally is pleasant and good. You've been in the city too long, with insane people too long, and everything feels refreshing. The bus here is free and you can be at the beach whenever you like. You've made friends here - organically, with no strings attached. .
For the first time in your twenty years of living, you even have a guy you think is cute. It seems small, but back home everyone knows who you are. You've never had a relationship work out for one reason or another, but here? Here no one knows you, and the boy you meet at the beach with his friends is just a boy.
You don't want to like being here, but you do - and you don't want Sukuna to come back and he will. Nothing ever works out for you.
The worst of your luck you think builds on the edge of that thought.
You come home tonight doing a lot of things you would not normally. 
For one, you've gotten yourself drunk. The reason being the cute boy aforementioned invited you down to the beach with his friend. You justified going thinking if you were going to be miserable all summer - a single good memory wouldn't kill you.
You had fun. Your swimsuit is underneath your short skimpy clothes, and you sat in his lap and made-out with him all evening. Got to pretend you were a normal girl and you got to kiss for the first time. You still reek of alcohol and his cheap cologne. Blissfully uneventful. 
When you stumble into the foyer of the house with blurry vision and hear the T.V. playing, you know it instinctively that peace is going to be short-lived. You know that your uncle is home, and that he was waiting for you.
All the hairs on your neck raise. A shift in the atmosphere makes it hard to think clearly. Your lungs barely get enough oxygen in them to keep you upright. You think of leaving. You think of running up marble stairs to your room in hopes he won't catch you.
"Brat," Is yelled from the living room. Right, as if you'd ever get so lucky. You jump in your skin. "You home?"
Your stomach churns. You feel sick.
"Come to the living room."
You go obediently when Sukuna calls you, trying not to stumble over your two feet.You don’t think there’s more options than fearful compliance. 
Your uncle is watching Scarface on the big flatscreen on the TV. The subtitles are on in Japanese though you don't think he needs them. He only barely turns his head to look at you, his interest piqued when he sees what you're wearing.
You feel sixteen again, self-conscious of your body and womanhood. He hides it even less than he did the first time - the leering. He notices your skimpy shorts and top, the bottom of your bikini. And he grins, and stares but doesn't say anything.
"Oh?" He says, calm and casual, glancing back at the T.V. "Finally went and had some fun did you? Thought all that studying turned you into a bookish little shut-in permanently."
You don't say anything, arm clutching your other self-consciously.
"Did you need something?"
He snickers, low and predatory. "Come on. You're here to spend time with me so let's spend time together."
You don’t bother asking where he’s been for the last few weeks.  Your gut churns, feet heavy as they drag you to the far end of the couch. Sukuna stares as you sit hesitantly. You have no doubt he's going to make you move, but he's kind enough to leave you alone for now.
"Have fun on your..." He gives you another knowing look then laughs. "Outing?"
You aren't sure how to respond. "Just drank with some friends."
"Friends," He mimics, feeling the words out in his mouth. "The kind of friends that smudge the lipstick off your mouth, huh brat?"
You flush suddenly, embarrassed - and Sukuna barks a laugh. You don't know what he's expecting you to say there so you opt for nothing.
"Sorry," Is the only thing you can manage. Placating. He lets out a puff of air through his nose and relaxes further. There's an air to him, of nonchalance, that unsettles you more than if he was angry or unpleasant. Your throat bobs.
"You're a big girl now," He comments - sleazy and indignant. His indecency towards you, about you glints like a star. A sharp canine and piercing red eyes examine you from his peripherals. "Now that you're showing off it's only natural boys flock to you, hm?"
You can't explain the way this comment makes you feel. So much said with so little. The gap between is and has always been miles wide except sometimes it's not. Your uncle is unusual. Cold-blooded, manipulative, ruthless. There's no warmth in him in a comfortable, loving way. 
There's even less of a normal relationship between you.
But you both exist in this space with... similar awareness. Of the world. Of yourselves. There's a conscious intelligence to him that's reflected in you - that you are both fractured parts of your grandparents bloodline in two separate bodies. That self-awareness affords him a presence. In your mind. In your fear.
You are undoubtedly related. Sukuna revels in that.
It’s rare to see that kind of awareness in your family. You’ve never felt threatened by people dumber than you, even if they had more power or money. Vapid and shallow and useless - there’d never been anything that could win you on. It might sound cocky, but it’s true. It’s been true. 
It’s why Sukuna frightens you. He has everything, but above all - he’s smart. And hard for you to read. 
You swallow, shakily - your eyes looking down at your hands. In a profoundly long beat of silence, the movie plays. A fair bit of gunshots echo through the loud speaker and they startle you.
"You scared? Come sit closer, then." He tells you, less than asks you.
You stand and sit next to him, still a distance away. Sukuna remains unmoving. You don't know what to do with yourself.The silence seems to stretch for miles and minutes. Sukuna just watches the T.V. and stares at his phone - occasionally answering messages. You stay like that for a long time. 
"Need a smoke," He says, and it's not really directed at you. "Maybe later. Wouldn't wanna make you sick."
"People smoke around me all the time."
"Do you smoke?"
You shake your head, too tipsy to lie. He laughs at that. "Not even weed?"
You don't bother mentioning legality, you both know it doesn't matter between your lineage.
"Don't like the taste."
"How interesting. What a straight-edge kid. Most I've seen you get is drunk and this is the drunkest I've ever seen you. Still sober enough to talk clearly though."
"I just drink socially,"
"Ohh," He says, and then grins a little sharper. "A little shot of courage to fuck that little college boy then?"
This makes you jolt. "We didn't fuck—"
"No?" He looks genuinely surprised at this, though it's mild. "Poor kid must've wanted too if you came around him wearing that. Unless he came in his pants soon as you sat on him. Boys that age do stuff like that,"
The comment about his age reminds you of how old your uncle really is, and something in your chest flares hot.
"It wasn't that either—I've never-"
He cuts you off. "You're a virgin?"
You flush, stopping yourself from answering and he laughs.
"Ohhh, that's good. Very good," He grins, so genuinely pleased it makes you shiver. "I like virgins. Easy to please."
"That's—It wasn't for you."
For the first time in your relationship, Sukuna bridges the gap between you. He sits up and forward, his hand finding the bare skin of your knee. He rests it there, his thumb circling the flesh.
"Don't touch me," You hiss. Sukuna tightens his grip, but not threateningly. He turns to look at you that time, and you can't help but look back.
There's something in his degeneracy that horrifies you. It's fondness, you think. Genuine fondness.
"You sure?" He licks his teeth in a way that reminds you of a wolf. But not one that's starving. There's no desperation in his actions, but a self-assurance. Wolves don't often survive alone, but Sukuna has. And he hungers with the confidence of a predator who has killed all that stand before him. That's never been told no to what he wants to eat.
Your heart stops. Your voice a low whisper. "Stop,"
"You say that but you came in the house looking all desperate for sex and approval. You always look like that. Have for a little longer than what's normal for a girl your age,"
"I don't look like that!"
"You would've fucked that little college twerp if you stayed wouldn't you? Nothing wrong with honesty, brat."
Before you have a chance to understand what goes on around you, Sukuna changes position. You've never gotten a chance to feel and experience how strong he is - not like the way he's manhandling you now. You gasp at the arm around your waist and back. He pins you to the couch in a swift motion, not sure how he's done it, the alcohol making you dizzy.
Sukuna has never crossed the boundary with you like this before. Your heart is thumping loud, beating against your ribs. The source of it eludes you. If it's fear or discomfort or some other thing entirely causing such noice. 
There's a certain blase in his attitude that makes you forget momentarily about the taboo and gives way just to the tension between you. You feel it for the first time with his body pressed against you, all hot and heavy. He smells of cologne, but it lacks the acidity cheap ones tend to have. There’s strong hints of cigarettes and aftershave accompanying it. Appearance wise, he has lines in his face like a man in his forties. 
You don't know what's wrong with you. With a relationship so fucked up from the start, you thought crossing this line would feel different. You think you want to throw up, but you're completely calm. 
You want to be disgusted. You want to thrash and kick and scream and fight. You squirm away from him, the threads of what's left of your moral conscience urging you to do so. Like a last ditch effort to keep you sane. 
But there's just. Something. Something so inevitable about it that your heart doesn't beat at all. The panic itself feels hollow in nature. You are a rotted log and Sukuna has ripped the soft wood out of you with relative ease. But you’ve been that way for a long time, and nothing hurts. Not really.  
It's relieving in the worst way. 
"Get away from me,” You whisper again with noticeably less fight. Sukuna looks at you bright-eyed.
"You're a good kid," He says. The genuine praise knocks the air out of your lungs. That disgusts you more than anything else happening between you so far. "Interesting. A lot brighter than the other kids in our family."
Our family. You wince. .
"Stop, this is—" You don't know what word to use. He's your uncle and you're his niece and he's been gazing at you like this for god knows how fucking long. "Stop."
"You've got something going on behind your eyes at least, even if you're still just a wet-nosed and angry little housecat," He says, staring down at you. He's so imposing. His facial hair and his various tattoos. Everything about him, down to his bones. "But I can't tear my eyes away from you at the same time. You know that?."
You do know that. You cast your gaze away.
"I applaud how cautious you've been. But it didn't make a difference in the end. You know that too, right?"
You don't say anything.
"Clever little lamb you are, indeed. I like that about you." He hums, leaning down closer to you. His face is inches from yours. "You should be smart enough to know how this ends. But you know, you've been so entertaining to me this whole time I feel like I should at least be a little nice. So I'll offer you something. A deal of sorts, we can even write it on paper."
This catches your interest and he knows it does. He knows. You’re cut from the same cloth. And this place has made you lose your character, just like it always does. So if it means your survival and sanity or your morals, one comes before the other.
He grins at you.
"Come stay with me. Here in Nii-jima and back at my estate at home. I'll take care of your expenses and whatever else. I have better connections than the old hag," He says, leaning down even closer to you. You can smell him. He's intoxicating "You can be away from everything. I'll even let you have boyfriends and girlfriends over. You can throw sleepovers. I don't care. You can do whatever you want."
"What's in it for you?"
You can feel his knee press up against your cunt through your shorts and you gasp, hand going up to his shoulder. "This. Been thinking about this tight little cunt for a while now. You'd have to be at my beck and call. We'd be the closest uncle and niece in all of Japan," He snickers.
You wince at the reminder. You hate yourself for considering it. "Why me? There are plenty of women who are dying to fuck you."
He scoffs a little. 
"Once we get you a little farther from the trenches kid, you might start to understand me. Wealth, fortune, fame - all of it's fucking boring. I came back to Japan prepared to leave again but you made me stay. Not much more to it than that."
"You're fucking your blood-niece out of curiosity? Your sister's daughter?"
"My sister never did anything good with her life except marrying your father and making you." Sukuna says, and laughs lightly. You hate how validated it makes you feel. Your skin crawls. "I'll have to thank her for it. She'll be pleased.
You make a face at him, uncertainty. Apprehension. Fear. Frustration. Everything you’ve been compartmentalizing comes bubbling to the surface and making your head feel weighted with lead. You want to kill everyone and everything including him. You want to run away from this place. You want to go home, though you don’t know where that would be anymore. They demolished your old apartment years ago. 
You think spending a few years getting fucked and used might be less miserable than the suffocation of living with your mother and your baby brother and your grandparents. How much abuse you’ve endured already vs. what awaits you when their true heir starts to walk and talk horrifies you. 
You look at him. 
“You’re horrible.” 
“Tell me something new.” 
“I hate you. I don’t…want this. Any of this. I want to go home.” 
You’re just venting. Really. You’ve made the choice already. 
“Has there ever been a time where it’s been about what you want? I doubt it. But if you stay with me, appease my wishes for a while, well,” He laughs confidently. “You’ll get something, at least. Better than what you have.” 
“The contract. Are you serious about that?” 
He laughs at you. “Sure. If it makes you feel better, you can draft it and I’ll just have my lawyer sign. Bring your defenses. Whatever. Don’t really care as long as I get what I want.” 
“And that’s me?” 
“Seems like it,” 
You purse your lips. It seems like a rash decision to make in the moment, but truthfully your heads never felt so clear. Even with the alcohol. 
“...Fine.” 
Sukuna hums when you agree. It feels anti-climatic somehow. Not that he’s not expecting your yes but that you’ve come to accept it so easily. It’s not like this takes away from the coercion, from the awful feeling of being violated. Sukuna was going to rape you whether you liked it or not. This way, at least, you get something out of it. This way it’s something you choose. Something tangible results from your inevitable doom - the fate your mother damned you to. 
It affords you some plausible deniability too. In truth, you’re afraid for yourself. You’re afraid of what will happen when he finally does cross the line completely. You’re afraid you’re going to accept it, that it’s going to feel pleasurable, that years of repressing yourself will come back to make sure you never return to normalcy. 
What will become of you when Sukuna has his way with you? Will you become a more apathetic version of yourself? Is it possible? Will you sober and feel like scrubbing your skin clean in the shower? 
The worst outcome, you think, is nothing so horrible happening. The worst outcome is knowing you’ve fallen far enough for none of it matters at all. 
Sukuna grins down at you. “What a well-behaved niece I have. Good girl. You’ll do well living with me.” 
You make a displeased face at him, but your breath catches in your lungs soon after. Your uncle leans in to kiss you and you close your eyes trying to get away from it. But it’s true that your body has been burning up from the inside since you came back home - a dull throbbing between your legs turning you all kinds of stupid. 
When Sukuna kisses you - your first thought is that he’s unexpectedly gentle. 
You didn’t think he’d care about kissing to begin with. In your head you thought he’d tug off your shorts brutishly and fuck you without any prep. You were readying yourself for tears and pain, for screaming and crying - the sharp sobs of your own voice piercing your ears. 
A gentle press of lips startles you from your drunk haze. You can feel the scruff of Sukuna’s face on your own, your arms wrapping around his neck instinctively. The taste of cigarettes and something else mildly smokey fill your mouth and make you dizzy. Sukuna tastes like kissing a man - or what you might’ve imagined that to be like. Not a boy, but a man. You feel his strength, your hands splaying at the base of his neck and feeling the faded undercut of his neck, the texture of his dyed hair. His weight shadows you, his strength making you feel fluttery. 
He doesn’t tease you all during the kiss like you’re expecting. Nothing goes the way you expect. He kisses you in slow, short pecks and escalates to his tongue dipping against your lips - a little added element to his deep kisses. He kisses like he’s been doing it for longer than you have, with experience and finesse. You’re all but too conscious of everything little thing. About the sounds you make, about knowing when to breathe, about trying not to get wrapped up in the pleasant euphoria. 
All you can think about is how good he is at it. Effortlessly good. You think part of you latches onto it to avoid thinking about what’s happening. Denial feels pleasurable at least. 
You kiss like that for so long, your lips have swollen - sticky with spit and saliva. Sukuna has a self-satisfied smirk on his face when he pulls away from you, laughing at the flush in your expression. 
You hit him lightly, looking away from his face. 
“It’s a wonder you’ve kept your virginity,” He says, chuckling. “A kiss and a dirty old man like me could’ve taken it from you.” 
“Shut up,” Your reply is weak. He laughs against your mouth, and you can’t get over the intimacy of it. You hope you’re deluding yourself but then he kisses the corner of your mouth. Hot, warm air tickles against your jaw and neck when he presses his lips there too and suddenly it occurs to you how real it is. 
You don’t think your uncle is capable of warmth or love or anything that doesn’t come from coercion. But fondness. Maybe fondness. 
He spends more time doing that than what’s comfortable. Relishes the feeling of you in his arms, his bulge grinding against your clothed cunt but not forcefully. Just with enough pressure to make you gasp once in a while when you don’t have a mind to fight it. 
“I won’t take your virginity tonight,” He says declaratively. It surprises you. “You’ve got three months with me. It’d be boring. I’ll give you something else.” He looks at you then, then grins impishly. “What do you want?” 
Your eyes widen, suddenly unsure of yourself. You push away, brought back to reality by the questions. 
“How would I know?” 
He blinks at you. “I know you said you were a virgin, but did you really mean in everything?” 
You pout at him all of a sudden. “So what. I didn’t have that kind of time.” 
Sukuna barks a laugh. 
“Huh. I thought you were a goody two-shoes out of necessity but you really don’t do a damn thing in that house. Not even a boyfriend to do hand stuff with?” 
“Ugh. No, alright? I don’t have time for that kind of thing like I just said.” 
He laughs a little breathless, sitting up for a minute. You’re wondering what it means for you. Sukuna pulls you up along with him. He sits down again with his legs spread before looking at you. He pulls you into his lap with relative ease, until you’re half-way pressed into him with your legs over his thighs. You stare at him, feeling more exposed in this position. You get a closer view of his neck tattoo, realizing how far down his back it must go. You go to ask him what he’s doing - but he’s undressing you before you can. 
Confident, large hands trapeze down your back as he finds the end of your overwear and pulls it off - leaving you in the microkini you wore to the beach. It barely covers your nipples. You made the choice to wear it, yet seeing Sukuna examine it so closely leaves you wallowing and regretful. Still, he’s silent as he does something similar with your jean-shorts. A hand lifting your legs up enough to roll the cheap, denim shorts and discard them right on the marble floors. 
You’re still half-way over his lap - sitting on his thighs but you’re naked now.
You feel yourself growing self-conscious. Never mind that it’s the first time anyone’s seen you this naked, who exactly you’re showing it to makes you want to throw up. He stares for so long you wonder what he’s thinking, a lazy grin splitting his face. A hand nudges your thighs apart, moving your leg to give Sukuna more access to you. With an arm around your waist, his hand cups your cunt, rubbing it softly. You shift nervously. His thumb moves then, rests at the hood of your clit, pulling up to look closer at it. You hold back any noise as he examines you, bent pointer of the opposite hand brushing over the hair on your skin with a laugh. 
“Unexpectedly, it’s pretty,” He says and your eyes shoot wide open. “Good job brat.” 
“What are you,” You pant, your breath hitching as you close your eyes.”staring so much for it?” 
“It’s mine to stare at.”
You don’t think of your uncle as particularly possessive. It’s more like he believes in that so much, so unshakingly nothing else could be true. You wonder if there’s more to it. He didn’t seem angry even after you told him about seeing a boy. 
But comparing the two, Sukuna outclasses him in all ways that it should matter. He must be confident about that. 
He spreads your thighs a little further. You’re half tucked into his side now - an arm around the back of his neck and shoulders. Sukuna ducks down a little, nudging his nose against your neck and scraping his teeth lightly against your throat. He doesn’t do much other than… touch you. Not directly. His other hand, the one not secured around your waist, rubs at your pussy but not in an attempt to pleasure you. It’s exploratory and intimate. He’s just touching you in a way that’s making you restless. And the angle he’s bent down, the proximity gives you a better view of him. From the side where you sit in his lap, you can see the tattoo again. 
You shudder then, pussy suddenly clenching in a way that leaves you ashamed. Your uncle notices, though he doesn’t look up. 
“Thought of something, brat?” 
“No.” You deny, vehemently. He spanks your pussy but not hard. You jolt in reply, a shock traveling up your spine. 
“C’mon now,” He hums, predatory. “Don’t lie. That’s not fun.” 
“Y-your tattoo,” You say, suddenly feeling the influence of alcohol in a way you hadn’t all evening. “It’s…big.”
“Into bad boys or something, kid?” 
You frown. “You look like a yakuza.” 
This makes him laugh, more genuinely than you’ve ever seen him laugh. “Getting warmer, I guess.” 
You don’t say anything to that. Instead spurred by the sudden confidence. “Why aren’t you…touching me?” 
He looks at you surprised then tilts his head. “Is that what you want? 
“I don’t want any of this but it,” You squirm again. “Feels weird.”
“Sounds like you want something, at least. Go on, tell your oji-san what you want.” 
You scrunch your nose up at him, a familiar feeling of disgusting flitting through you. It fades as quickly as it comes.
“I’ve never put a-anything inside,” You admit, suddenly feeling self-conscious. 
“That so,” He hums. His middle finger slides down the wet seam of your cunt as you tell him this. You nod but you don’t think he’s really listening. His hand is warm, and big - and his fingers are thicker than yours. One of yours may as well make two of his, no end to how imposing he is. You don’t protest as he starts to touch you. You simply take a deep breath, holding onto him a little tighter. 
With your head turned towards him, Sukuna leans in again to kiss you. It’s deep from the beginning this time, and a little rougher. He bites lightly on your lower lips as his middle finger dips down towards your sex. Your insides are throbbing, hot and wet as you feel some friction. It’s the first time anyone else has ever held you in your life, every touched you directly like this. Against your will, your body is sensitive to the stimulus. Everywhere he touches you goes alight, and the kiss makes your tummy flutter. A tender feeling of want spreads you open, tears you apart right in front of him. 
With parted lips and a heavy head, you kiss him as his middle finger dips down low enough to penetrate you. A soft gasp pulls from your throat. 
It doesn’t feel unpleasant.
“I thought it was going to hurt more.” You admit, feeling him inside of you. It’s a new sensation but it’s not bad. 
“It shouldn’t hurt if you’re aroused enough. And wet enough. You seem to be both.” 
You frown at him, face pinching. It’s washed away quickly by the sensation of him pushing deeper. It’s hard to describe it as anything other than feeling something inside of you. Deep in a place you didn’t think it could go. You shake a little, trying to get adjusted. Sukuna does it carefully, slowly - thrusting in even strokes and keeping you focused on kissing so you’re not too conscious of it. 
He’s not thoughtful, not really - but you can tell that he’s going slower for your sake and that makes your heart stammer uncomfortably. The last word you’d ever use for him is kind but he’s not being horrible and it’s unsettling you. 
Once one finger goes in and out smoothly, your uncle starts to add another. You feel it that time, the stretch of it - gasping hard at the sudden sensation. Your breath catches in your lungs, hand clutching at his shoulder for purchase. He pulls away from your mouth, his breath near your ear. 
“Easy, little one. Give it a minute.” 
“It feels different. It’s,” You can’t form the words as two fingers penetrate you in full, slowly being eased inside of you until Sukuna is knuckle deep. Your breath hitches. “Not like it hurts.” 
“It’ll feel good in a second.” He says assuredly, voice smooth and raspy against your ear. You feel combative at his confidence, but then a minute passes of him rubbing along your insides and something strikes against you like lightning. You pause, blinking confused as Sukuna laughs. “There it is,” 
“There what is?” 
“C’mon kid, I know you’re too busy with school but you don’t know something so basic about your own body?” 
“What is it, oh.” 
His other hand toys with your clit, rubbing it in slow circular motions as he gauges your reaction to the touch. You jolt from the sudden pleasure, getting used to it slowly. You didn’t realize how badly it was throbbing to be touched until he does it in full. Your mouth dries up immediately. Little shocks of electricity spark up through you as his hands go full in on your body. The combined pleasure starts to uptick, something building slowly but surely. It goes from not feeling like much to feeling like something. Feeling physical. 
Your mouth drops open in sudden shock, eyes lidded as you moan unabashedly - unable to keep the sound at bay. You own a vibrator, use to cum quick and hard just to curb the feeling. You’ve had orgasms on your own but nothing has ever felt like this before. It’s undeniably satiating, mimics the feeling of eating something and nearly making yourself sick on it. You go slack-jawed, your nerves on fire. 
Two fingers curled against your silken walls and another two toying at the sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs leaves little room in your brain to think. The only thing your body seems to remember is how to moan and whine - make these pathetic little noises you’ve never heard in your life. You didn’t even know you could make. Oddly enough, Sukuna is quiet through it. He makes grunts and little affirmatives but he’s mostly silent. You mostly hear the sound of your own voice. 
The sound of your own wetness. You can feel the sticky sensation of your arousal but you can hear it even better. It’s lewd to listen too, wet smacks mixing with the pathetic bleats of your voice make you feel hot all over. Skin prickling with heat and sensation. 
“I knew you were sensitive but haah. If I would’ve fucked you today, you would have cried.” 
The thought drifts idly by about his cock and your whole lower half reacts to it by going weak. It aches just thinking about anything bigger or longer entering you than his fingers. 
“Figure an insolent little kid like you isn’t much of a crybaby. I’m sure I can make you one.” 
You don’t even think about asking what he means. 
“Feels,” You make a gasping noise, body suddenly going tense. “Hngh, fuck. Feels so good, holy fuck.” 
He groans a little. “I’m being too nice to you. I really should be balls deep in your cunt already and I’m not. You gonna cum for me, huh brat?” 
You nod your head dumbly, unable to retort. To think of anything but the sensation washing over you.”Go on. Do it. Cum for your perverted oji-san.”  
Something about the depravity of it sets your mind numb. Your body goes tight, every nerve firing off at once as you grip onto his shoulder and let the feeling of euphoria wash over you. Your whole body is so stimulated it’s numbing. The feeling of pleasure crashes into you, leaves your spine arching - mouth dropped open and nearly screaming. Your sanity melts, fades off completely and your brain feels like it’s gone empty. You close your eyes so hard little splashes of white show up in your vision, like you’re seeing T.V. static. 
You think you scream. You don’t know. You just know that you’re cumming, hard, just from his hands and you’re terrified of what else he’s good at. You don’t think it boils down to sensitivity as the waves of your first orgasm ripple through your body. 
You lay in his arms, sweaty and limp. Your vision is blurry with tears as you open them to look at him. Sukuna is rubbing your side, taking his fingers into his mouth. You look at him surprised as he does. He grins. 
“Tastes good, kid.”
You flush. “Shut up.” 
“Don’t think I’m done with you quite yet.”
Sukuna guides your hand to his pants, over his bulge. You gasp a little at it. His size through clothes is astounding to you. 
“I’m not so generous to leave with nothing, you know.” He pats your thigh, moving you from his lap. “I’ve got a better idea than trying to teach you anything today, so try to hold still.” 
You don’t know what he’s talking about until he guides you on the floor. You’re confused until you feel him position you  - facing towards the couch with your knees spread on the floor. In doggy, you realize a little too late, your upper-half supported by the couch cushion. You feel more confused than you felt a moment ago. 
Sukuna positions himself behind you. You can’t see him, but you can hear the soft rustle of his clothes moving as he stands on his knees behind you. More than that, you can feel his cock resting on your bare ass. You gasp, feeling the weight and size slide against your curves. Sukuna does a breathy little laugh at your reaction. He’s huge. 
“Don’t cry kid. I told you I wasn’t gonna put it in tonight and I meant that,” He hums. His hands come to your hips, all of a sudden pushing them together. “Push your thighs together as tight as you can.” 
You listen to him. You can do it with some effort despite how weak your body feels. You lean forward on the couch for support, bringing your knees together and pressing your thighs. You don’t understand what it’s for until something hard pressing along your spine moves down the curve of your ass. You gasp aloud as his thick cock pushes between your thighs, tip catching against your swollen clit. Your whole body is covered in goosebumps. Sukuna moans low in his throat, resting his head on your shoulder. 
“Fuck, that’s it.” He hums, sounding pleased. “Keep them tight for me, alright girl? Try to at least.” 
Sukuna is wordless as he grips your hips, your flesh dimpling under his bruising grip. You're silent, your voice threatening to spill again as you try your best to listen to him. You keep yourself tight and firm, your hands gripping the couch cushions as Sukuna pushes his cock between the fat of your thighs and starts a pace.
The angle makes you gasp, body feeling weak at the way it touches your clit with each bump. Sukuna doesn’t hold back at all. You’re not being penetrated but the weight behind each of his thrusts makes you feel like you’re being fucked. The bruising sensation of skin against skin - the hard muscles of his own legs smacking against the softness of your thighs. 
Most embarrassing is the way the position makes you conscious of your uncle's cock. You knew he was huge before, but the way he’s thrusting. Where it reaches when he does thrust makes your throat feel nearly tight. You can’t stop thinking about the fact it’ll be inside you. You can’t imagine taking it in your hands - the girth and length of it fucking impossible. And he wants to fuck you with it? Take your virginity? 
He’ll stretch you so open if he does. You can barely think of it fitting in you. When you do, your whole body shudders in a horrible and pathetic way - a new wave of arousal striking a strange chord. As he bumps and ruts against your clit and your mind fills with such lewd images, a new wave of lust starts to pour through you. 
It’s unhelped by the feeling of Sukuna’s cock - getting so close. The throbbing with each thrust and the low, throaty groans he keeps vocalizing against your ear. All of it proves to be too much for you. It shocks you when you feel yourself grow hot all over again. Not even being touched directly and so soon after your first - a mere few minutes. 
And you find yourself with all your muscles tight, your hand reaching back for Sukuna as you plant your face against the cushions and let him fuck hard between your thighs. You feel incoherent, stupid and so fucking horny. You’ve never experienced it. You can’t think of what to moan, so you choose his name. 
This makes him laugh as he bends over you, his teeth biting your shoulder blades. 
“Gonna cum again from this brat? Aren’t you fucking easy? Come on, cum with me. Just like that, take it. Fuck, that’s it. Good. Good girl.” 
It’s the last bit of tension that pushes you over the edge, whether you care to admit it. Your voice breaks as a second orgasm washes through you - more intense but much shorter than the first and you nearly fall limp. You only barely manage to hold yourself up as your uncle keeps thrusting relentlessly. 
You can feel him twitch hard between your thighs when his orgasm finally hits. You shake as you feel him squish the tip between your thighs - hot ropes of cum spurting against the swollen mound of your cunt and dripping down your thighs as he finishes. He smacks your ass as he finishes, making you yelp. Your whole body is rife with exhaustion, finally coming down from high-highs and low-lows. 
“We’re gonna have a lot of fun together for the next few months kid,” He says, almost affection in his words. You’re too exhausted to reply, looking at him over your shoulder. “Let’s get along and do our best.” 
“You’re a sick-fuck, oji-san.” 
“And you’re a whole lot like me, aren’t you kid?.” 
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theblue6ook · 7 months
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Out of My League [Ongoing Fic]
*ages are listed
B.B. [Before officially meeting Bruce]
“The Young Years” Bruce and Y/N are both dealing with loss and change at a young age. (a/n: "The Young Years" are essentially anecdotes from Y/N and Bruce's childhoods that make them who they are.) B (8) & Y/N (6) B (10) & Y/N (8)
“The Young Years” PT 2 Bruce & Y/N are struggling with some major daddy issues in this one. B (14) & Y/N (12)
“The Young Years” PT 3 Teenage trauma comes in many forms. Sometimes, it’s your dad kicking you out of the house… and sometimes, it’s running off to train in the League of Assassins. What can you do? B (19) & Y/N (17)
“Shit Interview” Y/N bombs her interview at Wayne Enterprises and has no idea what she's going to do now. B (23) & Y/N (21)
“Shit Interview” PT 2 Interestingly, Y/N meets Alfred Pennyworth, and he offers her a new interview for a different assistant position? She's hesitant but decides to take the opportunity. Little did she know who she'd be working for. B (23) & Y/N (21)
“Our Stupid Smart Kids” Alfred and John talk about their prospective problem children who are not really children anymore. Takes place during "A Shit Interview."
A.B. [After officially meeting Bruce]
"Shit Interview" PT 3 Y/N knew this assistant's job would come with different challenges, but getting her boss to show up to work was not something she thought would be on her to-do list. B (23) & Y/N (21)
"Shit Interview" PT 4 After two weeks of Bruce Wayne playing hooky, Y/N is finally putting her foot down. B (23) & Y/N (21)
"Shit Interview" PT 5 The day Bruce Wayne is finally supposed to work in office... and he's late. B (23) & Y/N (21)
“Shit Interview” PT 6 Bruce was only doing this to humor Alfred. It was just a way to show him he gave his new assistant a shot and it just didn’t work out… or at least that was what he was trying to tell himself. B (23) & Y/N (21)
"Other Lovers" Y/N just wants to spend her birthday with her fiance, but when he drops the ball, will Bruce pick it up?! (A continuation of "Shit Interview") B (23) & Y/N (22)
"Other Lovers" PT 2 Bruce is trying his best to make Y/N's birthday an experience to remember. B (23) & Y/N (22)
"Other Lovers" PT 3 Y/N realizes the end of her relationship with Russ is near. Bruce is realizing he might like Y/N more than he leads on. B (23) & Y/N (22)
"Other Lovers" PT 4 Going through a breakup is hard. Good thing Bruce is there to help. B (23) & Y/N (22)
“A Mundane Day” Is it ever really mundane office life as Bruce Wayne’s assistant? B (23) & Y/N (22)
“A Quiet Day” Bruce does not like celebrating his birthday. All of the pomp and circumstance was very “Bruce Wayne Bachelor,” but it wasn’t him. He wants quiet, he wants easy, he wants focus. So Y/N gives him that. B (24) & Y/N (22)
“A Sick Day” It’s not a cold. It’s not. It’s just… allergies or something. Y/N definitely does not need to stay home. Bruce disagrees. B (24) & Y/N (22)
coming soon...
(just to give you a sneak peek at what's coming next ;) )
“A Shit Day” Y/N gets kidnapped. Who else comes to save her besides Batman... he looks familiar. B (24) & Y/N (22)
“Mommy Monster” Y/N’s mother is back after YEARS and is she something. B (24) & Y/N (22)
“Bruce has friends?” Y/N meets the Justice League. B (24) & Y/N (22)
“Bombs and Ball Gowns” Y/N makes a choice at the gala. It almost costs her everything and now Bruce knows her secrets. (24) & Y/N (22)
“Out of My League” The justice league has some major shit going down, but now the team is suspected. How can Y/N get them out of this one… B (24) & Y/N (22)
392 notes · View notes
warping-realities · 23 days
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New Coach
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Colton Andrews was worried about his first day as a high school teacher. He knew he shouldn't worry; he had been a diligent student and graduated with honors. One of his professors had even told him at his graduation that he saw in him a natural talent for teaching. Still, facing a bunch of teenagers ready to judge him for any slip-up was a daunting prospect, especially knowing that he was only a few years older than his students, which could lead to some level of disrespect for his authority. In an attempt to differentiate himself from his pupils, Colton dressed in dress pants, a button-down shirt, and a tie, hoping the clothes would give him an air of maturity.
These were idle concerns, for just as his college professor had told him, Colton had a natural talent. The students attentively followed the meticulously dressed young man’s explanations. However, as he spoke about the best way for students to organize their studies for that year, Colton couldn’t help but notice that a handsome blond boy, extremely muscular, followed him with an interest above the ordinary, and he could have sworn that there was a smile playing at the corners of the boy’s mouth.
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“Nonsense,” Colton thought to himself and concluded his lecture. However, shortly after releasing the students, the boy approached Colton’s desk, smiling. He had removed his sweatshirt, exposing his impressive arms. Colton admired the boy’s musculature, amazed—how was it possible for a 17-year-old boy to achieve such a size?
“Hey professor, I’m Rod, can we talk for a minute?”
“Rod? Rod? Ahhh, Roderik Thomas?”
“Rod, nobody calls me Roderik except my mother, and only when she’s mad at me.” Besides, Rod is a much more fitting name, if you know what I mean? concluded the boy with a wink.
“So, Roderik? What can I do for you?” Colton asked, pretending not to understand the student’s comment and deciding to maintain the image of authority he was trying to create.
“Rod, sir. I just wanted to say that I’m looking forward to seeing you in the field; all this talk about organization has shown me that you’re going to know how to do a good job.”
“I beg your pardon. Field? I don’t understand.”
“You’re Colton Andrews, aren’t you? Colton Andrews is the name of the new assistant football coach. Coach Colt, funny, haha.”
Colton looked at the young giant in front of him, appalled by the lad’s shallow sense of humor, but mostly because nothing he was saying made the slightest bit of sense.
“Sorry, Roderik, but I’m sure you’re wrong; I’ve never set foot on a football field in my life, and I can assure you I’m not a coach. You are certainly mistaking me for someone else.”
“Rod, coach. And what are the chances that there are two teachers with the exact same name at the same school? You’re a prankster, Coach. Cool, I’m sure you’ll get along great with the guys.”
“I am not a trainer, Roderik,” Colton replied, irritated.
“And I am not a Roderik, coach,” said the young man, a smile on his face as he left the room, ignoring the older man’s irritation.
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“What the hell was that?” Colton blurted out now that the room was empty.
…..
Colton spent the rest of the day avoiding thinking about the strange encounter. However, that night, sitting on his sofa with the sleeves of his shirt rolled up, absently reading a book, he found himself thinking about the strangeness of the situation. Was this the young man’s idea of a joke? Well, that could be, because Colton wasn’t lying; he had barely watched a few football games on television at home with his father during his childhood, and even he soon gave up trying to pique young Colton’s interest in the game. So the very idea of him walking onto a football field was bizarre; what about training young people for the sport? Absolutely ridiculous!
Still, he couldn’t stop thinking about Roderik’s huge arms. It made a lot of sense that a boy that size would play football. Colton pitied the opponent who got in that kid’s way. Football… it was funny, wasn’t it? The way so many people paid so much attention to a bunch of men fighting each other on a field; it was nothing more than a modern Coliseum. Taking off his glasses and putting the book aside, he followed this train of thought, imagining himself the size of Roderik, being on that modern battlefield, adrenaline coursing through his body, the anticipation of the move, the thud when blocking an opponent, the rumble of his feet on the field, the strength of his powerful muscles… Suddenly, Colton woke from his daydreams, his body feeling tired, as if he had actually done everything he had imagined. Feeling his throat suddenly dry, he headed for the kitchen, thinking of making himself a mug of tea to sip while reading.
Sitting in his kitchen, waiting for the tea to cool before drinking it, Colton again thought about Roderik’s arms, comparing them to his, though it wasn’t a fair comparison. Of course, his toned arms nicely filled out the sleeves of the polo shirt he’d chosen to wear that day; after all, he was no stranger to physical exercise. However, they were far from the gigantic size of his student’s arms. And he didn’t even want arms that big, obviously; imagine the impracticality of having two tree trunks dangling beside his body… yeah, imagine something like that.
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….
Still holding the mug with the hot beverage, Colton sat in front of the television, and while he sipped his tea, he randomly switched channels, one after the other, but nothing seemed to hold his attention. Until a sports channel broadcasting a college football game caught his eye. Colton absently followed the heavy bodies bumping into each other, trying to understand the names of the plays and the moves made. Of course, he wasn’t a total novice to the subject; he knew who Patrick Mahomes was and had followed Brock Purdy’s Underdog conquest story with interest the previous year, but the information he had was as basic as it could be. However, he found himself following the match with increasing interest, even cheering and screaming when the team he was rooting for got a play right.
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At halftime, Colton stretched, his arms straining at the seams of his T-shirt… dude, he liked that feeling, he thought as he took a swig of his beer. He knew that alcohol on a weekday was not a good idea, but he deserved to celebrate the success of his first day at work, even more so while watching his old college team play. Since he was a little boy, he had been a big fan of the sport, following all the games diligently, even if, to his father’s disappointment, he never showed interest in taking his passion to the field. No, Colton might have been a big guy with hard muscles, but he was still an intellectual by definition, although his relaxed attitude raised some disapproving looks during his college education. But Colton didn’t care about that; he could be an academic and still enjoy sports, working out, and of course, having a drink here and there.
As the game resumed, Colt relaxed even further, sprawled across the couch, but not letting up on play after play, cheering and cursing. Although the sofa was large, Colt suddenly felt confined, as if he had suddenly doubled in size.
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“I need to buy a bigger one,” Colt thought. In fact, he couldn’t remember why he’d bought something that didn’t fit him. Colt had always been a big kid, towering over his peers since kindergarten. This, added to an agility not compatible with his size, made him stand out in all types of sports. But football had always been his passion; he would follow the games with his father since before he learned to speak, and when he was old enough, he soon began to practice, going through all the categories of Pop Warner until he reached high school, where he joined the team in his freshman year, assuming the starting position in his sophomore year. Alternating in defensive player positions and due to his size and skill, the joke among his peers was that they were looking at a third Bosa brother. Yet, to everyone’s surprise, Colt went to college not on a sports scholarship, but on academic achievement. He loved football, but there was so much more to life than the game. During college, he faced some difficulties; his professors did not seem to take his aspirations seriously, due to his monstrous size, his language full of slang, and also his partying habits. Even though he was not part of any fraternity, that was the first impression anyone had of him.
“Dickheads. I showed them, didn’t I? I’m a fucking teacher!” Colt thought as he got up to go to the bathroom and take a piss.
“Dude, all that beer had to come out at some point; I’m pissing like a horse, especially with a dick like that… haha,” he said as he swung his huge pole, missing the toilet bowl by a few inches.
“Fuck, tomorrow I’ll clean this up; I can’t miss the end of the game.” Still, he had time to admire himself in front of the bathroom mirror. His broad chest shining with sweat, his gigantic arms were on display, mountain-sized biceps and triceps like a horseshoe. His monstrous legs were hidden by his sweatpants, but if there was anything more that resembled a horse on his body, it would be his huge thighs. Looking at his square face, framed by his blond curls, he remembered his mother telling him that he looked like a little cherub as a baby, but no one today would think of him as angelic. After all, he exuded masculinity from every pore. And small? Never! Colt was big in everything—big feet, big muscles, big dick!
“Fuck, I’m so swole,” he said, staring at the mirror.
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Returning to the huge sofa, Colt relaxed in front of the gigantic television in his living room. His powerful muscles comfortably positioned. His huge arms, his greatest pride, laid out at his sides like two big cannons. “Bro, he loved that feeling,” he thought before giving himself completely to the game transmitted in front of him, analyzing each move with the experienced eye of a professional in search of new techniques. After all, that was exactly what he was. Colt had been a promising player in high school, going to college on a full athletic scholarship, with the absolute certainty that only young people possess that he would be a professional player one day. His grades were miserable and his academic performance was poor, but that wasn’t important; he was a machine, a modern gladiator, and one day he would be playing in the great NFL coliseums. His college professors looked down on him and didn’t think he had any teaching skills, but they never said that in front of the behemoth that was Colt.
“A bunch of pussies,” he thought with a sneer. Colt didn’t need the appreciation of a bunch of emasculated old men; he had the football field, he had the crowd, he had his father’s eyes cheering him on every game… and unfortunately, an injury at the end of senior year had kept his biggest dream from coming true. Colt clearly remembered the look of defeat in his father’s eyes when their world had suddenly collapsed. How pleased those academic worms must have been to see Colt’s bright future disappearing. Still, he couldn’t help thinking about the sour faces that bunch of weaklings would make if they knew he was now a teacher too. Not that he cared much about the classes he had to teach. He just accepted the work because through it he managed to get the position of assistant coach of the football team and thus help a new generation to pursue their dreams since he had not been able to. He remembered at that moment the conversation he had with Rod.
“Damn, that kid has what it takes to win,” he thought. Colt had been amazed at how much the boy looked like himself at his age—same blond hair, same giant muscles, those huge arms. If he hadn’t known he wasn’t old enough to father the boy, he would have worried to find out if he had fucked his mother at some point.
“Ha, imagine being a father to a fucking boy, a Mini Colt, teaching him everything, taking him up to the professional ranks.”
After the end of the game and still daydreaming about the future, Colt went to his room. He nearly had to rip his tank top off to get it off. He took the moment to take another look at his body. He was giant, chest formed by two slabs of muscle, abs made of eight defined blocks, monstrous arms, thighs like tree trunks, calves the shape of a giant diamond, and huge size 15 feet, perfect for running on the field. All this accompanied by a square face, with high cheekbones, bright blue eyes, shallow in intellect but full of mischief, framed by his shiny blond curls. Tattooed on his gigantic arms were his varsity team crest and the letters of his fraternity.
After one last admiring glance at his perfect physique, Colt threw himself into the huge king-size bed and slept, dreams of football filling his night.
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…..
The next morning, Colt woke up fully energized; today was the day his real work began.
“I’m a fucking football coach,” he crooned in his bovine voice as he picked up his sweatpants off the floor and sniffed one of the T-shirts strewn around the room.
“Fuck, I’m going to have to use this one… Dude, I’m such a pig… Fuck it, I’m going to the field!”
He then took a long shower, jerking off and thinking about the hot math teacher. With water running down his body, he went over the training plans for the day; proper organization was the mark of a good trainer and he would be the best. Even though the whole time he hadn’t stopped playing with his abs like they were guitar strings.
After a breakfast with enough food to feed a baby rhino, he put on his clothes, admired himself again in the mirror, and went to work.
Arriving in the locker room, the first person he found was Rod, with a big smile on his face, showing the dimples that gave a certain cuteness to a face that otherwise exudede masculinity, further accentuating the similarity between the two men. But Colt didn’t mind that; he would hate it if the guys saw him as a boring old man, like his college professors were. After all, he was still one of the guys; respect would come when they saw how awesome Colt was.
“What’s up, Mr. Andrews?” asked the boy with a sly smile.
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“What the fuck? Mr. Andrews? Did you eat shit, Rod, my man? I’m no Mister. I’m a fucking coach. You can call me Coach, Coach Colt,” Colt replied with a laugh; that alliteration always got that reaction from him, not that he knew what a fucking alliteration was.
“Sweet, coach. We can’t wait to see the legend on the field.”
“That’s right little bro; it’s time to play football,” he replied with an excited smile. After all, he had spent more time in his life playing football than in a classroom, and he wouldn’t trade that for anything.
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mrchiipchrome · 1 year
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Parents
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W.C. - 3 k
“Fuck!”
“Language” Lucy replies.
Joining Barcelona at the age of 14 last season had changed your life for the better, sure the balancing of schoolwork and professional football was difficult to say the least but you had the most amazing women around you helping. You moved from a small club in the south of Spain to the giants during the summer transfer window, over the moon as soon as you got the call that they wanted to sign you. Your parents gave you the ‘okay’ for the move, though their jobs were too important to leave so you would get placed with a teammate as a solution.
So when you had packed up what little you needed from your childhood bedroom in your backpack, you set off for the train. One tearful goodbye with your parents later and you stepped foot on the train taking you to the city of dreams.
When you arrived, you got picked up by a member of staff and directly to the training grounds where you would meet the team for the first time and sign the paperwork. It felt like it took 1000 years to sign all the papers but when you were finally done, you could feel the excitement coursing through your veins. 
Meeting your teammates was a success and the prospect of living with any of them had you excited. You instantly got the hint that you would live with the two English women when they were asked to stay after practice. Not making too much of a fuss when they realized they had a teen to take care of was good for you, the two of them already having known that you would join their residence for a couple weeks. And so you moved in, creating an unbreakable bond by the end of the first week with the two women.
“Can we go out for ice cream after training? I finished all my assignments.” No one could ever resist your puppy dog eyes, infamously adorable, so when you threw them into the mix you were sure that you would get your sought after ice cream. Lucy slings her strong arm around your shoulder, walking a little faster than she normally would to be able to keep the pace of your long lanky legs. Keira slips her arm around your waist at your other side, the two older women sandwiching you between them as they ‘think’ about your offer.
“Sure, but only if you promise to brush your teeth extra carefully tonight. Wouldn’t want you to get cavities-” Your cheers cut her off as you suddenly take off in the direction of some of the younger players, happy that you would get your sweet treat. 
The two women left walking look at each other with a certain softness expressed through their eyes. They hadn’t been expecting to be thrown into ‘parenthood’ so suddenly but life works how it does for a reason, and to be fair Keira did have a bit of experience, dealing with Georgia and all.
Later that day, Lucy’s followers are blessed with a picture of you sitting across from them at the ice cream parlor eating your ice cream before a picture of her and Keira doing the same. It was a sweet moment between the small family, you had really found your true parents in the two women.
Trekking around with a knife and an apple was not an uncommon feat at the Walsh-Bronze household, especially not recently. Keira had banned you from using knives after you had accidentally cut off the tip of your pinky while cooking and had to go to the hospital to have it reattached to the rest of your finger. So now you were stuck with the ugly bandage on your hand and another reason for Keira to not let you do something, but you’re sure that she’s been looking for a reason to ban your use of knives for a while now.
You had already looked everywhere for the midfielder, Lucy had gone out to grocery shop so Keira was the only choice but you had exactly no idea where she was. Just as you’re about to break the hard imposed rule she had set and cut the apple yourself, you hear talking from the living room.
Walking into the room, you immediately spot Keira sitting on the couch talking to someone. At first, you don’t know who’s on the other line, but that is before you hear the heavily accented raspy voice of Keira’s best friend. Leah Williamson.
Both Keira and Lucy think your obvious crush on the defender is hilarious, always teasing you and speaking about introducing the two of you. Yet you had always been able to escape the premises before Keira had ever pressed the button under Leah’s name, going over to Vicky’s or in dire cases your captain’s house.
Your eyes widen drastically, but with Keira not noticing your obvious presence you slowly start to back away and out of the room. You see how Keira’s head snaps up in your direction as you accidentally step on one of Narla’s squeaky toys, producing a sound akin to that of a dying pig. Looking down at your feet and the offending device, the only thing you can think about is how the next few minutes are going to be pure hell and embarrassment for you. The next time you look up at the redhead she’s staring back at you with a teasing look in her eyes and a smile full of mirth, and you just know she’s thinking of ways to torture you.
“Y/n, just the person I was looking for! Come say hi to the people” Her eager movements indicating she wanted you to come closer simply don’t give you another choice, especially now that they know it’s you who entered the room. Walking over to the couch which she sits at, you’re careful with the knife still in your hand as you flop down beside her.
“Need help with my apple, please.” Without even responding, she hands you her phone while taking the things from your hands in a swapping gesture. The first thing you notice is how Leah's face only takes up half of the screen instead of the whole screen, clueing you in on what Keira meant by ‘the people’, it wasn’t a facetime call but an instagram live.
“Hi Y/n, I've heard a lot about you, all good things I promise” The wink she throws you isn’t a flirting one by any means, it’s one of those you throw out haphazardly at the end of one of those sentences like the one that just fell from her lips. And like anyone would in your situation, you stutter out a reply all while a blush overtakes your face.
“H-hey Leah” You pair with a wave as you hear Keira sigh beside you at your obvious awkwardness around people you thought of as attractive. “Keira talks about you all the time, so I’ve heard a lot about you too.”
“Keira was just telling me about her new habit of banning things around the house-“
“I have nothing to do with that-“ Keira cuts you off before you can continue lying about your clear involvement in doing things that you later get banned from.
“Excuse me, wasn’t it you who just had to spend nearly two hours in the ER to reattach the tip of your pinky after an accident in the kitchen? Wasn’t it that whole ordeal that made me ban your use of knives in the first place?” Her exposing you had the blush on your face turning a deeper shade of red as you relent, holding up your non-dominant hand covered in bandages from your wrist up to the tips of your pinky and ring finger. 
“To be fair, it wouldn’t have happened if Luce hadn’t distracted me in the first place. She’s too good at that.” If Lucy hadn’t made you look up by calling your name, then you wouldn’t have sliced through your finger instead of the cucumber and Keira wouldn’t have needed to pick up the bloody piece of flesh to put on ice while the distractor herself wrapped your finger tightly in a kitchen towel.
“What about the time before that, huh? The oven incident? Who’s fault was that?” She speaks as she hands you the now cut up apple and takes her phone from your unsteady hand, the phone displaying Leah’s clearly amused expression at the bickering happening in Spain.
“Gracias Kie” You cut yourself off as you take a bite of the juicy apple you’ve waited for so long before continuing what you were about to say. “That was mostly my fault, but how was I supposed to know that the baking sheet had been in the oven when there were no indications of it being hot” Keira just rolls her eyes at that, having told you multiple times before you picked up the metal that it was hot.
“As clumsy as Alessia then, are you?” Leah reminds you of her presence with the rapidly strung together sentence, and while you just look on confused as you hadn’t ever met any of Keira and Lucy’s national teammates she understands exactly what the blonde means.
“No, Alessia’s more clumsy clumsy while this one” She points at you with her thumb, “is dangerous clumsy. Less trips and falls over her feet casually, this one is barely allowed to use the butterknife ‘cause she might accidentally cut herself. Yeah, them two together would be chaotic. We would need double the manpower to keep them from injuring themself.”
Just as you’re about to retort, you hear the front door open and Lucy calling out for you. Sighing, you begrudgingly say goodbye before taking your leave to help Lucy with the groceries. You hear Keira say a quiet “She has the biggest crush on you” to Leah, but you simply can’t be bothered to react.
“Lucy, Luce, Roberta, wake up damnit” 
Being shaken awake by a frantic 15 year old is not something many do, usually at that age you’re more sophisticated and careful as you wake people if you do at all. And yet, Lucy finds herself in the predicament of having to decide whether to wake up or not, but as she hears the fast breathing and feels the hands on her still she decides to wake up.
“Hey, hey, calm down. I can’t help you if you don’t calm down, you know.” Now sitting up and more alert, Lucy pulls your shaking form down onto the bed she shares with the other English woman who has miraculously managed to stay asleep through all the ruckus. Holding you in her arms, she feels you calming down little by little until you’re completely still in her hold. She’s nearly convinced that you’ve managed to fall asleep as your steady breaths puff against her neck, but as you speak her assumptions are proven wrong.
“Had a bad dream, I wanted to make sure you and Kie were alright. If it’s not too much to ask for, could you tell me the story of the moon and the sun again?” Lucy had to hold back from letting the exclamation of adoration out at you immediately looking for her and Kiera after experiencing a nightmare. She remembers telling you the story her own mother had told her when she was a kid.
"Of course I can, it’s no problem” She waits for you to stop shifting around so much and to find a more comfortable position in between her and her girlfriend. When you finally still, she starts retelling the story she’s heard so many times before.
“Before there was anything, before me and you and everyone else on this planet existed there was a moon and a sun. Every night right before the moon would go to bed, it would notice the sun lighting up the sky with its incredible glow. As the moon woke up, the sun would go to sleep and its shine would be gone, the moon would miss the very thing it so longed for. So the moon devised a plan, a plan to not miss the bright light of its long lost love, a plan of great excellence and intrigue. And so the night of the plan came, the moon waiting for the rays of sunshine to overtake the dark of the sky it had been so used to. As the sky lit up with soft rays of orangey yellow, the moon couldn’t think of anything other than how much more beautiful everything was when it was lit up by the sun.” 
Lucy felt the way you had slumped against her halfway through the story, now sure about your unconscious state.
“You’re good with her” Keira speaks from the other side of your body and Lucy smiles at the sound of her voice.
 “Thank you”
When you heard that team bonding would take place at the zoo, you couldn’t have been more excited. On the contrary, both of your team moms were less than happy about the choice of location for the activity knowing they were going to have a hyperactive Y/n on their hands. But as luck would have it, the kiddie leash they had ordered for these occasions had come in the week prior. It was one of those backpacks with the leash attached to the back of it that you would see parents with unruly children use. 
After a bit of bribing, they got past the initial protests of you not being a child and got you to put on the dinosaur backpack, they tightened it to make sure it wouldn’t fall off before walking out of the house together.
They made sure to use the backpack function as well, stuffing it with your drinks and snacks. You’re nearly at the zoo when they realize the absence of the memory of you taking your medication that morning, and at that moment they are incredibly thankful for making you wear the backpack.
Watching as you flip Mapi off for making fun of your new accessory, they don’t have the heart to tell you off for the obscene gesture. Not when it was their fault you were getting made fun of in the first place. 
Like always, you gravitate towards the younger members of the team while Keira does the older ones. This leaves Lucy to go with you to your friends and Keira to walk over to hers. 
“Vicky look at my backpack, isn’t it cool?” You skip over to her, clutching onto the fabric hanging over your shoulders as Lucy tries to keep up with your overly energetic self.
“It’s really cool Y/n” Vicky’s words mean a lot to you, her becoming a close friend and a sisterly figure for you with her being so close in age. 
When everyone is rounded up, they buy their tickets one by one and wait on the other side of the gates for the rest. Once inside, you’re rushing around buzzing to see all the animals that you can’t see normally. Like the saying goes, time goes faster when you’re having fun, you soon find yourself eating lunch with half the day being spent with different animals. You and Lucy are throwing teasing comments at each other like usual when an innocent comment starts an onslaught of funny statements.
“Y/n when I was your age-” She doesn’t get to finish her sentence before you start.
“Luce, when you were my age I wasn’t even born yet. In fact you made your senior debut for Sunderland a year before I was born.” That shut her up, not knowing that you had done your research on her. 
The rest of the day goes off without a hitch and as you walk home, you can’t help but wonder why life has been so good to you lately. But you don’t think for too long, instead being happy with the course your life has taken.
But everything everyone can talk about when the pictures of the day are released is how you had to wear the kiddie leash. 
Lately you’ve been using TikTok a bit more often, not much more than before but there was a difference. This meant that you had discovered new trends and edits of your teammates, you had even followed a couple of accounts making videos of your teammates to show them later. 
But when you saw the video on your recommended page, you just knew it would be perfect for you to use with Lucy and Kiera. The perfect opportunity to strike comes up when they ask you to join them for a walk with Narla later that day, to which you agree. 
You let them walk in front of you as you slow down, TikTok open on your phone ready to record the interaction. You hold your thumb on the red button as you start by recording yourself mouthing the words before turning it to them and recording them in time with the sound.
Slipping your phone back into your pocket, you decide to edit the clip later and enjoy the walk you currently were on. 
Arriving home, you go to your room and type out the in video caption of ‘when they take you out on walks with their dog’. Before posting the video you type the usual caption, ‘walks with Robert and shaKeira (narla was there too)’.
An hour later the two victims barge into your room and unexpectedly hug you, expecting them to be ‘annoyed’ at you but that wasn’t the case.
“You think of us as your parents?” You see Lucy discreetly wipe a tear from her eye, but you pretend not to notice it.
“Well yeah, you guys have been more like my parents these last few months than my biological ones have been all 14 years they had me around.” The two just embrace you harder at that, and you can feel their love seeping through their actions.
“So I take it you like my mama y papa video then?” The two of them just press a kiss to either side of your face, and you feel truly happy for the family you have gotten since you moved to Barcelona.
Nearly took longer to post this, my hand is burnt. Hope you enjoyed, this was a pretty shit one. Promise the next one is Lessi
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Chapter 6: Dinosaurs, Dates and Diners, Oh My!
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Summary: After a long last week, Javi takes you out to celebrate the end of the school year. Even when things don't go according to his plans, you're convinced you've never been on a better date.
Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected P in V sex (wrap it up, y'all), phone sex, oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, creampie, masturbation (m and f), mentions of panic/anxiety, mentions of food/eating, subpar Spanish (my 4 years of high school Spanish don't take up a lot of space in my brain, I apologize) Javi being our consent king, Javi caring so much about you it physically hurts me
Word Count: 14.1K (I didn't realize how long this was until I finished)
A/N: YOU GUYS. When I started doing this, I just wanted to write for fun and posted thinking that no one would read this, let alone be invested in it 🥺 Y'all are so sweet, thank you so much!! This was another fun chapter to write, I'm thinking I have some good ideas about what these two are up to next!!
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Javier Peña had always been a light sleeper. Even as a kid, he would wake up to the sound of a stray footstep wandering through his home, or the wind rustling the tree outside his bedroom window. Once he got to Colombia, it was like he never slept at all. Since coming home, his dreams were plagued with the violent images of his past, causing him to thrash and toss in his sleep, waking up sweaty and breathless. But last night, he slept next to you. Your warmth and presence draped over him provided a sense of comfort he hadn’t felt in years. For the first time he could remember since coming back, Javi actually slept. When he woke up Monday morning to the sound of his alarm, he so desperately wished to have rolled over and found you, to wrap himself around you and ground himself. To smell the warm and fruity scent of your hair, to kiss your soft skin, to take in every detail about how your body seemed to impossibly take up every corner of the bed, despite your small stature. This morning, Javi had to settle for the emptiness of his childhood bedroom, begrudgingly preparing himself for the very long 4 days ahead of him until he could see you again. 
He got out of bed, following his usual routine of brushing his teeth, shaving and showering, the emptiness of his bathroom making him wish you were there to serenade him with your cute sing-alongs as you both got ready. 
After he was dressed, he headed out into the kitchen to pour himself a cup of coffee and sit on the back porch, overlooking their acres of farmland and the impending sunrise. During Javi’s time away, Chucho had hired help at the ranch, now relieving Javi of having to get up at some God awful hour to feed animals or move cows from one pasture to another. Even in his older age, it didn’t stop his father from getting up every morning at 4:25 AM to make sure things stayed running smoothly on the ranch. Normally, he and his father’s morning schedules didn’t overlap, sometimes getting the occasional good morning in passing as they headed to their prospective jobs. This morning, Javi had to check his watch to make sure he wasn’t late for work, realizing his Dad had finished his morning chores almost a half hour early. He must have seen that Javi’s car finally made its way back to the driveway when he got up. Javi knew his dad would confront him about the weekend at some point, he just didn’t think it was going to be at 6:27 this morning. 
Chucho walked up the steps of the back porch, sitting down next to Javi on the top step. “Morning, Pops.” Javi took a sip of his coffee. 
“Glad to see you made it back. I was getting close to sending a search party out for you, Hijo.” He chuckled, seeing that Javi’s face was already starting to get red. “Seems like it must have been a good weekend then, huh?” 
“Yeah, it was uh, it was a really good weekend.” 
“Good. I’m glad, son. The way I watched you smile on Saturday… it’s been a long time since I’ve seen you like that.” 
“Yeah. She makes me really happy, Pop.” He reached down for another sip of his coffee, Chucho keeping quiet, in hopes to get more out of him. “I uh, I asked her to be my girlfriend. I know it seems really fast but… I don’t know, Dad. There’s something about her. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way about anyone before.” 
Chucho placed his hand on Javi’s shoulder. “Sometimes Mijo, you just know.” Javi shifted his gaze from his reflection in his coffee mug to the soft smile of his father. In that moment, it was like a weight had been lifted off of Javi’s shoulders. He couldn’t quite describe what it was. Was it the fact that he could tell how happy his dad was for him? That he had found someone who liked him for who he was? That it wasn’t too late to prove he deserved the life he wanted before he left for Colombia all those years ago? 
“Thanks, Pops. She’s special.” 
“I can tell she is, Javier. I’d love to meet her sometime.” 
“She already told me she wants to come and meet the animals. Tried to buy a bag of carrots when we went grocery shopping so she could make sure the horses liked her.” They both laughed to themselves. 
“That was how I got su mamá to come to the ranch for the first time. She told me I was fine, but los animales were the only reason she really wanted to come over. It all seemed to work out okay.” Chucho patted Javier on the shoulder, before grunting as he stood up. “You going to see her again soon?” 
“Thursday. Taking her out to celebrate her last day of school.” 
Chucho smilied. “Ah, yes. No me hables hasta los niños estan libres. (Don't talk to me until the children are free). I’m happy for you, Javier. All me and your mamá ever wanted for you was that.” 
Chucho huffed as he took a step on to the deck and walked his way into the house. Javi smiled to himself, repeating his fathers words in his head. 
Sometimes, you just know. 
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You knew Monday was going to suck. It was inevitable. It had been so long since you had slept in the same bed with someone, after just one night of being with Javi, you found yourself tossing and turning, craving his body in your bed. To top off your not so great night’s sleep, you realized you had forgotten to set your alarm, made no food for your lunch, and hadn’t set your coffee to brew for when you woke up. Scrambling, you started a pot and threw whatever lunch-like items you could find into your lunch box, hoping that maybe you would have the appetite for one of them later. Not having enough time to shower, you threw your hair up in a bun, found a dress (since it was easier than having to pick out a top and bottoms), grabbed your things and raced down to your car. Thankfully, there wasn’t too much you had to prep when you got in- there wasn’t planned since it was the last week of school. But, you did have to have your room packed for summer cleaning before Thursday. You were planning on doing the majority of it on Thursday afternoon since the kids had a half day in the morning, but knowing you had plans with a very handsome someone later on that night, you were trying to get as much done as possible. 
Just as you assumed, your room was in absolute chaos as your students entered, like they could feel it in their bones that summer was almost here. You couldn’t have been more thankful to have music and gym this morning, sending the kids on their way shortly after they arrived, leaving you alone again with the sweet sound of silence in your room. Well, at least for a few minutes. 
Knock, knock, knock 
You had closed your door on purpose, hoping it would give the hint that you didn’t want people to come talk to you during your planning time, but the door meant absolutely nothing to the 3 ladies peeking in through your window, frantically ushering you to come open it for them. You should have known it was going to happen. 
“Hola, mijaaaaaaa.” Estelle greeting you with a smirking smile. The other two ladies snickered behind her. 
“Hi, you guys.” You responded as they made yourself at home at the large table you had at the front of your room. 
“Sooooo, how was the rest of your weekend?” Linda asked, raising her eyebrows at you. 
“It was good.” You responded, at least trying to make them work a little harder before you shared your news with them. 
“Cut to the chase, Mija. What happened with you and Javier?! We are dying to know. I tried to call, but Chucho is too good of a man to gossip with us, so we have been left high and dry since Saturday night.” Of course Maria would have no problem not beating around the bush to get the answers they needed. 
“We spent the rest of the weekend hanging out together. He offered to run errands with me on Sunday and we watched a movie before he left to go home last night. We had a really good time.” 
“How good of a time? There’s a very large gap between you leaving on Saturday and going shopping on Sunday.” Maria was invested in you two like a weeknight telenovela. The other two ladies shot her glaring looks, knowing she was the only one bold enough to ask the question. 
“Maria! Considering we’re inside an elementary school right now, I’m keeping it PG. We had a lot of fun, that’s all I will say.” 
“Fine, fine, fine.” 
You paused for a moment, blushing before dropping the next bit of information. “He um, he asked me to be his girlfriend too.” 
You blushed as the women shrieked in delight at the news. “No puedo creerlo!” (I can’t believe it) Estelle screeched. “Digame (tell me), how did it happen?” 
You knew they were about to have a field day with your answer. “Well, um, it actually kind of happened because of Lorriane.” 
Their faces went stone cold. They began whispering to each other in frantic Spanish. 
“Esa mujer está un punta loco…” (That woman is a crazy bitch…)
“Yo se, Maria, dèjala hablar!” (I know Maria, let the girl talk!) 
“Quiero saber qué pasó, shhh!” (I want to know what happened, shhh!) 
“Well, um, we were out shopping for a birthday present for my niece. Her and her family ended up being in front of us in line when we went to check out and she realized Javi was behind her. She asked who I was and before I could answer for myself, he introduced me as his girlfriend. She’s um… something.” 
The women paused before saying anything else. 
“Javi told me about what happened with them, don’t worry.” 
“If she said anything to you, mija, don’t let it bother you. That woman is ruthless.” 
“I know, I kinda picked that up after talking to her.” You grimaced your face. “But I guess I owe her a thank you because it really speeded up the whole him asking me out thing!” The ladies smiled again, recognizing your genuine happiness when talking about Javi. 
“We are so happy for you, mija. Really, you both deserve each other.” Linda chimed in. 
“So, are you going to see him again soon?” Estelle asked, prodding for more information. 
“Not until Thursday. He’s taking me out to celebrate the last day of school, we’re going to dinner and a movie.” 
The ladies swooned. “So sweet mjia. He’s already doing more for you than mí marido (husband) has ever done for me on the last day of school. He just looks at me and tells me he’s glad I’m not grumpy anymore.” 
“Yeah, it was really sweet of him. I’m really excited for it.” 
“Congrats, sweetheart. We really are so happy for you.” 
“Don’t think you’re escaping until August to give us an update. We know Chucho, his papá, will keep us up to speed.” Maria winked as the ladies started to get up out of their seats. “Well now that we know you have a busy day coming up, we’ll let you get back to packing.”
The ladies were almost out the door when Maria popped her head back in. “You tell Javi I’ll make good on my promise to him. He breaks your heart, I will run him over with his father’s tractor.” You snorted, picturing the tiny woman rage driving a heavy piece of machinery.  
“I wouldn’t put it past you Maria.” 
She smiled as she closed the door behind her. You stared around the contents of your room before picking up another box. You better pick up your packing speed. 
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You practically collapsed as you opened the door to your apartment. Today had been a LONG day. You left for work at 7:00 AM, and were now finally returning home to your apartment at 7:50 PM. Whoever decided to cram every single end of the year activity into the last week of school needed to be seriously evaluated. Yesterday was the annual teachers vs. 5th graders kickball game as a way to celebrate before they were off to middle school, and tonight was the school music concert. The thought of having to go to the Alma Pierce Carnival tomorrow made you want to cry in exhaustion. Only two more days until Thursday. 
You disregarded your usual routine of neatly putting all of your things in their rightful home before doing anything else, opting to drop everything by the door in a pile and crawl your way to take a shower. Stripping your clothes and throwing them in the hamper, you turned on the shower and cranked up the heat. Waiting for the water to warm, you looked at Javi’s toothbrush, still sitting next to yours in the cup on your sink. Now finally having a second for your brain to turn off of school mode, the sight of Javi’s toothbrush flooded you with three different feelings all at once. 
You missed him like crazy 
You couldn��t wait to see what he had planned for Thursday 
You were hornier than a middle school boy on the brink of puberty 
After going so long without sex (at most, it had been 5 times in the past 2 plus years), you had almost written it off as an afterthought. That was until Saturday, when Javier Peña causally decided to blow your mind with the best sex of your entire life, on repeat. As you stepped into the shower, you pictured where Javi stood only a few days ago, his tanned, muscular, very naked body soaping you up in your favorite body wash. You spent the rest of your shower wishing he was the one scrubbing the shampoo and conditioner into your hair, imagining his hands would eventually travel out of your hair to somewhere else. 
You wrapped yourself up in your towel after emerging out of the shower, the sight of his toothbrush once again only making the ache between your legs more and more present. God, how bad did you have it that even his freakin’ toothbrush was making you horny?! Stupid magic hands and magic dick. 
As you went into your bedroom, you shuffled through the very back of your nightstand. Patting your hand around the back right corner you found what you were looking for.  Please let this thing be charged, it hasn’t even been used in god knows how long, you hoped, pulling the small bullet vibrator out of your drawer. Holding down the power button, you were relieved to hear the low hum vibrating in your hand. You laid down on your bed, head propped up on the pillows as you brought the vibrator between your legs. Running it up and down your clit, you could feel how wet you already were, wishing Javi was the one rubbing his thumb against your sensitive nerves, his thick fingers pressing inside you as- 
Ringggggg, ringggggg, ringggggg 
The phone ringing startled you so badly, you practically flung your vibrator across the room. Breathing heavily, you wrapped yourself back up in your towel and ran to the phone. Considering you and your mom always talked on Wednesdays and your brothers didn’t call unless you called them, it left one probable answer of who it could be. You tried to compose yourself as the phone rang a few more times, beet red and sweating from embarrassment that the person probably calling you was the one you were just thinking about with a vibrator between your legs. 
“Hello?” 
“Hey, Osita.” The low, sweet voice made your heart sing. 
“It’s good to hear your voice again. I missed you.” 
“Missed yours too. Sorry you didn’t call yesterday, Pops needed extra help after I got home from work yesterday. Are- are you okay?” 
“Me? Yeah, why?” You obviously weren’t doing a very good job of hiding how flustered you were. 
“You just… you sound like you’re out of breath?” 
“Oh, yeah, I um, I just got out of the shower.” It wasn’t a lie.
“You’re out of breath from getting out of the shower?” The thought of you wet and naked made Javi’s cock twitch. 
“No, well, um, not exactly.” You were glad Javi couldn’t see you from the other end of the phone as you facepalmed yourself, jumbling over your words. 
“What’s goin’ on Osita?” Javi spoke with a sneaking suspicion. He didn’t want to assume what he was thinking, but given what he had done to relieve himself in his shower earlier this morning, he couldn’t help but hope you had been just as riled up as he was. 
You let out an audible sigh. Before you could try and come up with an answer, Javi spoke again. 
“Osita, it’s okay. You can tell me.” You couldn’t even see him, but even picturing his sweet, brown, puppy dog eyes was enough to make you spill your secrets in an instant. God, could this man read your mind?! 
“Well, I don’t know, it’s dumb. I- I was in the shower and I was thinking about Sunday morning.” 
“And?” You could practically hear his smirk through the phone. 
“And I was thinking about you, in there, with me. How much I wished you were there” 
Javi had to bite down on his lip from letting out an audible groan. “I wish I was there too, baby. What else were you thinking about?” 
“How much I missed your hands. How much I wished they were touching me.” 
Bingo. There it was.
Javi dipped another toe into the water, getting the green light on his suspicions. “Yeah? Wished I was touching you? Were you touching yourself, baby? Thinking about me?” 
Your face was so flushed. You were already mentally making space on your gravestone for “Magic, sexy words” under dick and hands. “Yeah, I was.” You paused for a moment, feeling completely un-confident in yourself. “Sorry, this is so embarrassing, I don’t know why I’m telling you this.” 
“Baby, it’s not embarrassing, I promise. It’s fucking sexy, is what it is. I can’t stop thinking about this weekend either, Osita. Came so hard this morning thinking about you sucking my dick in the shower. Fuck, I wish it would have been you instead of my fuckin’ hand.” 
Oh shit. Were you about to do this?  
“Javi, I- fuck, I’ve never done this before, like, had phone sex.” The innocence in your voice had him hard as a rock. He knew for a fact after this weekend, you were not shy about sex. Fuck, you were the one that came on to him first. But the thought of you sitting in your bed, hand between your legs picturing him? That pushed him over the edge. 
“It’s okay, baby, we don’t have to if you-“ 
“No, I do. Fuck, I’m so horny for you.” 
“ Dirty fuckin’ girl. Take off your clothes, baby.” 
“Lucky for you, I’m fresh out the shower and already not wearing any.” Your little giggle on the other end had him palming at his jeans. He quickly got up to double check his door was locked, thanking whatever higher power was up there that his dad was still out working. 
“Go lie down on your bed for me.” Grabbing your phone, you brought it to your room, and sat propped up against your pillows. 
“O-Okay, now what?” He could tell you were still nervous, a stark contrast from the confident and bold woman he usually saw.
“Relax, baby. It’s okay. I’ll take care of you. You trust me?” 
“Yeah. I do.” He knew you meant it. 
“Okay, hermosa. Tell me how you’d want me baby. Tell me what you’d want me to do to you if I was there.” The low rasp of his voice through the phone had you shuttering. 
“Fuck. I’d want you to kiss down my neck. Kiss every fucking inch of me.” The words began to spill out of you. “I’d want you to touch me. Put your fingers in me. Your hands are so big, they feel so good.” 
“Touch yourself, Osita. Feel how fucking wet you are for me.” You set the phone next to you, pressing the speaker button, freeing both your hands. Slowly, you dipped a finger inside you, diving in and out of your entrance, the other hand slowly rubbing over your clit. It felt like nothing compared to Javi’s hands, slowly adding a second finger inside you to imitate the pleasure he had given you this weekend. He could hear your soft moans through the other end of the phone, causing him to undo his belt, and slide his pants down far enough he could free his aching cock, already hard from your sounds alone. 
“It feels so good, Javi. Fuck I wish it was you inside me.” 
He spit on his hand as he began stroking himself, nestling his phone between his chin and his shoulder. His breathy groans traveled through the phone. 
“You touching yourself too?” 
“Fuck, hermosa. The thought of you touching yourself has me so fucking hard. Yeah, baby, I am.” 
“I wish I could suck your dick like I did on Sunday. You tasted so good, loved feeling you down my throat.” 
“Wish I could taste you too. Pussy tastes so fucking sweet. Fuck, I’d spend hours in between your legs making you scream my name as many times as I could.” 
That was an offer you would definitely take him up on. 
The pace of both your hands became more rapid, both of you so worked up from your conversation. 
“Fuck. Javi, I want you to fuck me so bad. Your dick feels so good.” 
“Want me to fuck you, hermosa? Want me to bend you over, fuck you over your dresser so you can watch in your mirror how fuckin’ gorgeous you are when I make you come? Watch your pretty face when I fuck you full of me?” 
Yes please. 
Javi’s words had you losing your mind, the rubbing of your clit getting faster and faster, the wet  sounds of your fingers in and out of your pussy filling the room. If you weren’t close before, the image that Javi had just planted in your head had you right on the edge.
“Javi- holy shit, fuck fuck, baby, I’m gonna-” the whimpers of your orgasm had Javi groaning, his hand wrapping tighter around his cock, imagining it was your cunt clenching down on him as you came. 
“Such a good fucking girl, Osita. Fuck baby, I’m gonna come too.” Over your panting, you heard Javi muttering your name as he climaxed, the both of you breathing heavily. 
There was silence for a few moments before you spoke. 
“Javi, holy shit.” You laughed, shocked and thrilled by what you two had just done. 
“Jesus Christ, Osita, I was just trying to call and ask about Thursday but this was a lot fucking better.” His voice still breathy, coming down from his high. 
“Well I still wanna talk about Thursday, it’s the only thing getting me through this week, although this was helpful, to say the least.” 
“Believe me, me too. Lemme just clean myself up really quick. Be right back.” 
There was a grin across your face so wide, it hurt your cheeks. You waited patiently on the other end, Javi quickly coming back. 
“You still there, Osita?”  
“Yes sir.” You replied in an obnoxious voice. 
“Weirdo.” 
“Oh shhh, you love it.” 
Fuck. There it was again. That stupid word. He knew you didn’t mean anything by it right? Did you mean anything by it? Even if you did, there’s no way in hell you’d admit that to yourself so soon. Right? You frantically responded before he could say anything. 
“Anyways, sorry for my incredibly horny tangent, what are you thinking for Thursday?” 
“All good, hermosa, well worth it. What time are you done with work on Thursday?” 
“I’ll probably be home at 4:15? The kids are only there in the morning so I just have to finish packing up my room and then I can go!” 
“Can I pick you up around 5:30? I was gonna make dinner reservations at 6:00.” 
“Do I get to ask what dinner is?” 
“You don’t do well with surprises, do you?” He chuckled. 
“How’d you guess?” 
“Just had a feeling. If you really want to know, I’ll tell you.” 
“No, I won’t ruin the surprise, that’s no fun. I was gonna let you have full reign on the movie we go see. You made a fantastic pick on Sunday, figured it would be fun for you to pick again.” 
“Do you want that to be a surprise too?” 
“Absolutely. I trust you.” He smiled, the phrase you had already used twice making his heart skip a beat. There was a brief pause before he spoke again, his voice a little more nervous than before. 
“Is it uh, okay if I bring stuff to spend the night? That way I can just go in to work from your place?” 
You bit down on your lip to try and contain your excitement. “I would be disappointed if you didn’t.” 
“Me too.” In the background of Javi’s phone, you could hear a faint voice in the distance yelling out to him. Holding his hand over the receiver, you heard him faintly yell “What, Pops? I’m on the phone.” Followed by a muffled, “stupid fucking horse…” 
“Hey Osita?” His voice once again full volume, trying to restrain his annoyance. “I’m really sorry, I have to go. My dad just came in and told me one of the horses got out again and it's a two man job to wrangle him back in.” 
“It’s okay, have fun horse wrangling, I hope he isn’t too much of a pain in the butt.” You giggled, imagining how grumpy Javi would look trying to fight with this horse. 
“Símon is the biggest pain in the ass I’ve ever met.” 
“Glad someone else gets to take the title besides me. I’ll make sure to give him extra carrots when I meet him.” 
“Won’t do you any good, bastard hates everyone. I’ll see you on Thursday, Osita.” 
“Bye Javi, see you on Thursday.” 
“Bye.” 
The line on the other end clicked, leaving you laying on your bed and smiling at your ceiling. You rolled over, now facing the dresser and mirror on the other side of your room, the image of Javi’s filthy words from earlier seeping into your brain. You would never look at your dresser the same. Thursday couldn’t come fast enough. 
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Javi had never really been nervous when it came to women. Even from a young age, he was confident in himself and his abilities to flirt, pick up girls, and show them a good time. Hell, half his reputation from his time in the DEA was trying to put the moves on any halfway decent looking woman as a way to fight the tension and stress of his job. Javier Peña knew he had a way with women. What absolutely terrified him, was trying to date one. Regretfully, Javi didn’t have enough fingers or toes to count how many women he had slept with over the years. He could, however, count how many women he had dated on one hand, and only needed 2 fingers. Lorraine Doogan, and you. He’d taken women on dates- the occasional movie, dinner, drinks at the bar, but the idea of dating someone with the hope to keep them around for as long as he could? That scared the shit out of him. 
Javi had been a nervous mess all of Thursday. He called to double check your reservation time at dinner, made sure he had an outfit to change into in his car, and spent way longer than usual getting ready this morning. The thing was, Javi knew you liked him. Fuck, you were his girlfriend. But this wasn’t hanging out at your apartment like you had done this weekend, he wanted to do something special for you to show how much he really cared.
Around 12:30, he found his co-workers sitting around their desks chatting and eating lunch when Javi stopped by, taking a break from his morning of doing nothing, too distracted by tonight to focus. 
“Hey, just so you idiots know, I gotta head out early today. Carter, can you finish up that Guadalajara report and give it to Morris before you leave?” Javi came out of his office to see Agent Miller and Carter staring at him with confusion, their mouths still half full of food. Javi never once had left early in the time that he had worked there. If anything, he was there after everyone had left. Ever since last week, Carter and Miller had noticed that Javier had been in a surprisingly better mood than normal. They had seen him smile, not once but multiple times, and had even said good morning to both of them, several days in a row. 
“Uh, yeah, sure Peña. Where ya going? Gotta hot date?” Carter meant it as a joke, but Javi’s lack of witty response and embarrassment on his face left him with an open door to ask the question.
 “Holy shit, you gotta date don’t you?!” 
Javi didn’t say anything, just ran his hand over the bridge of his nose. 
“He’s gotta fuckin’ date tonight, Carter!” Miller responded, outstretching his hand to high-five Javi. “My man!” Javi glared at the hand held high towards him before Miller quickly got the hint to get it out of his face. 
Javi let out a deep breath. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to tell people about you. He really did. He was so happy you were his. He just knew that these two buffoons were about to give him ten pounds of shit when they found out you were the person he was going on a date with. “Yeah, I’m going on a fucking date, okay? Happy?” 
“Shit, no wonder you’ve been in such a good mood for the past week, Peña. Who is it? How’d you meet her?” Carter stretched back in his chair, completely invested in any information Javi was willing to share. More silence. Javi put his hands on his hips and let out another deep breath. Before he could get out any words, it was like the gears had been turning and a lightbulb had gone off in Miller’s brain, filling him with absolute glee. 
“Carter… you said Peña’s been in a good mood for what now, a week?” Miller smirked. 
“Yeah, why?” Clearly, he was not catching on. 
“How long ago did he go in to do the presentation at the elementary school?” Miller’s grin widening, hoping it wouldn’t take Carter too much longer for him to understand his question. 
“Fuck, I don’t know, like a week ago-” He paused before his face lit up, even giddier than Miller’s. “OH SHIT. IT’S THE HOT TEACHER ISN’T IT?! YOU LUCKY SON OF A BITCH.” Miller and Carter were now playfully swatting at each other in shock over the news. 
There was no point in trying to deny it. Javi figured he might as well bite the bullet on this one. 
“Yeah, it is. Again, she’s got a fuckin’ name okay?” 
“I can’t believe it. Damn, she must really like you, Peña. The other teachers practically chased us away when we went to try and talk to her.” While he hated the thought of his idiot co-workers harassing you week after week, it did fill him with a little pride knowing he was the only one you were ever interested in. 
“You dirty dog. This the first time you’re seeing her since then?” 
Javi met every question with more silence. He wasn’t sure why he felt the need to disclose any information to them, but their persistence in getting you to Alma Pierce last Wednesday was the reason you found yourself in this situation. 
“No way. You’ve already seen her already, haven’t you? And she still wants to see you again? Damn. Good for you, Peña.” 
“So what are you two doing for this date tonight? Besides hopefully getting laid?” Carter and Miller high-fived each other. 
Was that part of Javi’s plan tonight? Absolutely. He wanted to fuck you until you couldn’t walk, and once he was done, he wanted to do it again. But the jealous and possessive part of his brain lit up hearing other people talk about you in that way. 
“Don’t fucking talk about her like that or I will snap both your fucking necks, understood?” Javi’s voice was stern and commanding, making Carter and Miller rapidly nod their heads in unison, knowing that if Javi really wanted to, he would. 
“Understood man.” 
“Yeah, sorry.” 
The two men stared sheepishly at each other. Javi took another deep breath before composing himself and focusing his gaze back on Carter. 
“Guadalajara report on Morris’s desk by the time I get in tomorrow, got it?” 
“Will do, boss.” Carter barely made eye contact with him. Javi nodded before turning around, heading back into his office and closing the door. 
Peeking his head around the corner to make sure Javi’s door was all the way shut, Miller leaned back over to Carter for one last remark. 
“They’ve gotta be fucking already, right?” 
“Oh yeah. That’s the face of a man who’s happy and gettin’ laid.” 
“Lucky bastard.” 
“You can say that again.” 
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You were shocked at how smoothly your Thursday was going. Your class had lots of fun at their class party, showering you with plenty of hugs and goodbyes on their last day. With your efficiency and determination to pack up your classroom, everything was labeled and put away by 2:45, leaving you with plenty of time to say goodbye to your co-workers before heading out early. 
Remembering Saturday’s disaster of trying to pick out an outfit, you had spent the whole week trying on potential choices to not leave yourself a frantic mess today. You had settled on a peach colored dress with small white flowers, having a feeling that Javi would like it just as much as the one you wore on Saturday. You had plenty of time to get ready, taking more time than usual to do your hair and makeup and try on your outfit one last time. By the time you were all ready to go, it still wasn’t even 5 yet, leaving you with enough time to do a brief clean (even though you had made your apartment spotless enough it would have passed a health inspection test) and turn on SportsCenter for a little as you anxiously awaited Javi’s arrival.  
At 5:25, you heard a knock at your door, practically sprinting up off the couch to greet him. As you opened your door, his tall, handsome frame filled the doorway. He was in a navy blue button down, its short sleeves fitting deliciously over his biceps, with a pair of tight, dark washed jeans. In his hands, he held a bouquet of sunflowers, but looked like he was practically about to drop them when he saw you answer the door. 
“Osita, you look… beautiful.” His jaw was already half slack as his eyes ran their way up and down your frame, taking in every detail about you. 
“Thanks, Javi. You don’t look half bad yourself. You blushed as you tried to contain your grin. 
“These are for you.” He outstretched his hand, passing the bright yellow flowers over to you. 
“Phew, thank god, I was worried that you just wanted to carry them around all night for fun. Thank you, Javi. They’re beautiful.” Carefully placing them on your entryway table. You stared up at Javi, his lip darting around his bottom lip, practically undressing you with his eyes. You grabbed him by his shirt collar, pulling him through the doorway, your mouths meeting in an electric kiss. He reached down to grab behind your head, pulling you closer into him his tongue danced along your open mouth. God, you had missed him. The scent of his cologne and minty breath overwhelmed your senses, as you leaned further into him, his other arm wrapping around your waist as he reluctantly pulled back from your kiss. 
“Wow. Definitely missed that.” You smiled up at him, your heart pounding as you caught your breath. 
“Fuck, me too. I missed you, Osita.” His sweet brown eyes stared down at you, a smile growing under his mustache. 
This man had been in your presence for less than a minute, and you could already feel an ache growing between your legs. His kiss had you begging for more. 
“What time is it? You said our reservation is at 6:00, right?” You asked, glancing down at Javi’s watch as you bit down on your lip and reached up to give him a kiss on his neck. It was clear to both of you why you had asked the question. You knew how riled up you both were given the phone call you had just 2 days before, and having gone 5 days without him, you were really holding it together to not jump all over him.  
“Hermosa… Fuck. I can’t believe I’m gonna say this.” He took a step back from you, causing you to cross your arms and raise an eyebrow. “Baby, if we don’t leave your apartment now, we’re not fucking leaving. I meant what I said on the phone. Osita, I’ve spent every goddamn day this week thinking about this, but I really want to take you out to celebrate, you deserve it.” 
It took every ounce of you not to protest. He looked so good that you would have fucked him right there on the floor next to your shoe rack. But he was right, he had worked so hard to plan whatever you two were doing tonight. He cared about you. He wanted to make sure you knew that you were worth celebrating. No one had ever cared about you this much. 
“You’re really sweet, Jav. Thank you. Although with how fucking hot you look and the fact that you pretty much eye fucked me from the moment you walked through the door, this is about to be a a battle of iron wills, and right now my will power is about the strength of a limp noodle.” You both laughed, trying to regain your composure. Smirking, you looked at him to give him a proposition. 
“I bet you 5 dollars.” 
“You bet me 5 dollars, that what, Osita?” He chuckled, shaking his head at you. 
“I bet you 5 dollars that you break before I do. I don’t think you can make it through the night. Not with the way your eyes are still trying to undress me.” 
“You sure? You were the one practically crawling all over me as soon as I walked through the door.” He crossed his arms to mirror yours, enjoying the prospect of your competition. 
“I may be stubborn, but I got all the patience in the world, Peña. And I don’t like to lose.” You shrugged and winked at him, giving a playful raise of your eyebrows. 
You drove him absolutely fucking crazy. 
Leaning down, he pulled you in to kiss you again, even more intense than the one you had just shared. Your tongues and teeth clashed, making you moan between your connected mouths, before suddenly pulling away and grabbing his keys, dangling them in your breathless face. 
He looked at you with a devilish grin. “You’re on baby. You ready to go?” 
“What?! That’s not fair, you can’t just kiss me like that and expect me to function normally!” 
“Never said it wasn’t part of the rules. Two can play at this game.” He leaned back down into your ear, his mustache tickling your neck as the low rasp of his voice serenaded you. “Besides, Osita, like you said, you have all the patience in the world, right?” 
“Javier I don’t know your middle name Peña, I swear to God, you really are trying to kill me.” You both laughed as you grabbed your purse and began to put on your shoes. 
“Jesús. Javier Jesús Peña. 
Something about him saying his name made you smile. Maybe it’s because his name was yours. “Cute. Good to know, in case of emergencies, such as times like these. Alright, I’m ready, and I’m making space in my wallet to be 5 dollars richer tonight.” 
As Javi opened his passenger side car door for you, you basked in the warm familiarity of sitting next to him while he drove. While his car was already neat, you could tell he must have gone through and cleaned in since Sunday. After he backed out of your apartment’s parking lot and you two headed on your way, his free hand almost immediately found its way to the skin of your thigh exposed under your dress, giving it a slight squeeze before tracing his fingers up and down your leg. 
“Music?” He looked at you, smiling, reminiscing on your last drives’ sing a long. 
“You don’t just want to listen to the Grease Soundtrack on repeat every time we drive?” You giggled as you reached into his glove box, shuffling back through the CD’s, noticing a new one that definitely wasn’t there this weekend. You quickly pulled it out, showing it to Javi. 
“This one wasn’t here on Sunday?” You looked surprised by the Queen’s Greatest Hits disc you now had in your hand. 
“Oh yeah, well you said they were your favorite band. I don’t know a ton of music by them, but figured you may want to listen to them if we’re driving.” He tried to play it off casually. You didn’t need to know that he drove to not one, but two stores after work this week to find that CD for you. 
“Wait did you- Did you get this just for me?” Your surprise was so genuine. Not only did he care enough to even remember your favorite band, he went out and got you a CD so you could listen to it in his car while you drove together? You couldn’t have been more thankful to have been stopped at a red light as you leaned over the center console, grabbing the side of his face to pull him in for a kiss. You only released him as you watch your peripheral vision turn from red to green. You both pulled back with smiles on your faces, Javi putting an even tighter grasp around your leg. 
“Play it. You’re in charge of music tonight, Osita.” 
“Figured you needed to let me be in charge of at least something, huh?” You rolled your eyes and snickered under your breath as you pushed the CD in and pressed play, the beat of Another One Bites the Dust thumping through the speakers 
“This song is dedicated to you after you lose our bet tonight.” 
“You weren’t kidding when you said you don’t like to lose, huh Osita? 
“I will admit being overly competitive is one of my biggest character flaws. Growing up with 3 older brothers who all played sports will do that to ya. I always wanted to play with them, and they wouldn’t let me play unless I proved I was good enough, so instead of crying about it, I just practiced to try and make myself better than them.” 
Javi couldn’t have been less surprised. Given your stubbornness, there were few things he’d put past you.
 “Did you play any sports as a kid?” You asked curiously. 
“I did swimming and some baseball. Always liked swimming more. Parents would call me el pez. (fish) They would always tell me that they’d have to drag me out of the water whenever we went to the pool or beach. Swam in college a little too, but was never super serious about it. What about you? I’m gonna assume yes.” 
“My brothers played everything, so yes, I’ve pretty much tried every sport under the sun at some point. Hockey was always my favorite though.” 
“I’m gonna be real honest with you, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a hockey game in my entire life.” 
“That’s criminal. Well considering you’re from southern Texas, it makes sense that a game involving ice isn’t very popular. Did you know Texas has an NHL team?” 
“Wait, actually?” 
“Yeah, actually. I don’t think anyone in Texas knows you do. The Dallas Stars. They were actually pretty good this year. Lost in the first round of the playoffs like the Blackhawks did, so now my only hope is that the Red Wings lose but it physically hurts me to say that I think they’re gonna win it all this year.” 
Javi nodded, trying his best to follow along even though he had absolutely no idea what you were talking about. Embarrassed with your rambling, you quickly retracted. “Sorry, I know you don’t really care about any of that.” 
“You care about it, which means I’ll try my best to learn, Ostia.” 
Your eyes shifted up from your lap where they had been staring to meet Javi’s gaze, soft and genuine. It shouldn’t have surprised you, but the feeling of knowing he actually cared never ceased to amaze you.
“Okay. All you need to know for the sake of this conversation is Blackhawks- good, Red Wings- bad.” 
“Easy enough. I can remember that.” He winked at you before reaching to grab your hand and lock it with his. 
You spent the last few minutes of your car ride in a comforting silence, Queen quietly playing in the background as you watched the sky slowly melt into a pink and orange sunset. 
As you pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant, you looked at the sign above the entrance reading “Andiamos on Main.” You’d never been here before, but you felt like the name sounded familiar from hearing your co-workers who had gone on anniversaries, birthday dinners or big events to celebrate. 
“Javi, this place is supposed to be really nice.” 
“I know.” 
“Like, people come here for birthdays and anniversaries and special things that only happen once a year.” 
“You only finish school once a year, too. You’re special to me, Osita. You deserve it.” 
“But I-"
“I’m not letting you argue with me on this one, baby. Please.” 
As much as you wanted to, how could you argue with his sweet face, staring at you with his pleading brown eyes? You would have been thankful for him to have gotten you sandwiches again, let alone take you somewhere nice and insist you deserve it. 
“Fine. Thank you, Javi. This is the nicest thing someone has done for me in a long time.” 
“You deserve it, Osita. I’ll keep saying it until you believe me.” 
He leaned over to give you a quick kiss before turning off the engine of the car and quickly unbuckling himself so he could walk around the car and open the passenger door for you. 
“Ready to eat?” 
“Javi, there will be very few times in life where that answer will be no.” 
When you walked into the restaurant, your suspicions were confirmed. This place was nice. The space was dimly lit with soft piano playing in the background, filled with other couples and large groups, all dressed nicely and casually chatting. You were surprised how busy the restaurant was as Javi took your hand to lead you through the small crowd in front of the hostess stand. 
“Hi, how can I help you two?” The woman at the front asked as you two approached her.
“Hi, I have a reservation at 6:00. Should be under Peña.” 
“Alright, let me just check real quick and then we’ll get you seated!” You watched as her fingers flicked through the notebook she had in front of her, a concerned look creeping up her face as she began to back track and flip through previous pages. 
“You said Peña at 6:00, tonight, correct?” 
“Mhhmm.” He nodded, also starting to look concerned by her confusion. 
“I’m very sorry, Mr. Peña, it looks like your reservation was for yesterday at 6:00 PM.” 
Javi may have looked worse than he did when you had run into Lorraine a few days ago. “Wait, I uh-, it should be for today. It’s for June 3rd? The 3rd at 6:00 PM?” 
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Peña. The 3rd was yesterday. Today is the 4th.” 
You could feel the panic shedding from his body. The hand that was holding yours now started to become sweaty. The look on Javi’s face was sheer terror. “No, today’s the 3rd? Today’s the 3rd, right?” He looked frantically back and forth between you and the hostess before she flipped her notebook around to face you both, accompanied by her digital watch. In scratch writing under June 3rd, sat “Peña, party of 2, 6:00 PM.” And on her watch read “Thursday, June 4th.” 
“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me…”  he muttered himself underneath his breath, trying to keep his composure. “Are there any seats left? Anything at the bar, even?” Part of him already knew the answer, but was desperate to not give up yet. 
“Well, we have a corporate event tonight so it’s extra busy. Right now there’s at least a 2 hour wait, and that’s being generous, and no seating at the bar. Again, so sorry for the confusion.” 
He stood frozen in shock. He wanted to scream at himself. How could he have fucked this up? The guilt and panic flooded over him, leaving him speechless. He tried so hard to rebuttal- think of something, ANYTHING. Stuck in his chaotic train of thought, he felt your hand rub over his arm and heard your sweet voice. 
“That’s okay! Thank you for checking! Mistakes happen, not a big deal at all. Come on, Jav, let’s go!” This time, you were the one leading him back through the crowd, him, following you helplessly, trying to think of anything to say. As you finally exited through the doors, the golden sunset shining down into the parking lot, Javi grabbed down tightly on your hand, stopping in his tracks. 
“Fuck, Osita. Fuck, I’m so sorry, I can’t believe I fucked this up. I could have fucking swore today was the 3rd. I’m such a fucking idiot I-“ 
“Javi.” 
He stopped. He wasn’t sure what to expect. Were you mad? Angry? Going to agree with him and tell him that he was a fucking idiot? He wouldn’t have blamed you if you did. 
“Do you know how many times I took my class to gym on the wrong day when I first started at Alma Pierce?” 
He looked at you blankly. It was almost like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. 
“A lot. It took me a month and a half. I could have sworn they went to gym every Monday from 2:00-3:00, and at 1:55 every Monday, I would March them down to the gym for Mr. Luíz to tell me I had gym tomorrow from 2:00-3:00. It literally took me having to write it on my hand each Monday- don’t go to gym! For me to finally remember. It’s okay, Javi. I know you’re gonna beat yourself up about this. Please, please don’t. The fact that you even wanted to do something this nice for me is more than enough. I don’t care where we go, if I get to spend time with you, then I’m happy.”  
If I’m with you, then I’m happy. The words danced around his brain, trying to make sure he was comprehending what he had just heard. He had completely fucked up your plans and not only did you not care, you were happy? He was the reason you were happy? That was a sentence he was positive he had never heard before. 
You stepped into him, wrapping your arms around his waist as you gazed into his eyes, still pooling with panic. “I like you, Javi. I like you a lot. You could have taken me to go get hot dogs from the gas station and I would have been excited. Maybe not excited for what they would have done to me after I ate them, but if I got to do it with you, I wouldn’t have cared.” He let out a small huff under his breath, half a smile creeping across his somber face. “There are plenty of places for us to eat, we still have a movie to go see, and when we get back, I am so horny I think I could spontaneously combust.” It relieved you to see the smile grow wider, a genuine laugh now coming out of him. “Promise me.” 
“Promise you what, Osita?” 
“Promise me you won’t beat yourself up over this.” 
“Baby, I-“ 
“Promise me, Javier Jesús Peña. Or I will beat you up enough for the both of us” you poked your finger into his chest, playfully. 
“Promise.” He wrapped his arms around you, kissing the top of your head, savoring the sweet and familiar smell of your shampoo as his nose met your hair. “Going full name on me, huh?” 
“Told you, it was good to know in case of emergencies.” You laughed as he shook you, wrapped in the broadness of his arms. “There’s a diner down the road we passed on the way in, I could definitely eat a whole mess of pancakes right now.” 
“You weren’t kidding when you said you liked breakfast.” 
“I don’t joke when it comes to breakfast, Peña” you winked before you stretched up to peck him on the lips. “Let’s go.” You reached to grab his hand, leading him back to his truck. Trailing behind your lead, he soaked up every ounce of the image of you. An image he’d never get sick of. 
You didn’t even bother looking at the menu as you picked a booth in the back corner of the small diner down the street. Javi ordered a sandwich while you shamelessly ordered a stack of blueberry pancakes with whip cream on top. You could tell Javi was still upset with himself, staying relatively quiet since you two had unexpectedly changed your plans. You had a feeling there wasn’t much you could say at this point that would make him feel any less guilty- you would have felt the same way. Looking for a way to get him out of his head, you pulled out a kids menu and a wrapped pack of crayons tucked behind the condiments at your table, scribbling on it before sliding across the table to Javi. 
“Hangman?” Javi looked at you, chuckling. 
“We don’t have to play if you don’t want to, just thought it could be fun. Figured this was better than me coming across the booth to beat you up because I can tell you’re still mad at yourself.” 
This set off a more genuine laughter from him, shaking his head as he crossed his arms and leaned back in the booth. “I don’t know, Osita, after you told me you used to play hockey, you’ve got me a little nervous that you could take me out.” You both snickered at the idea of you trying to take down Javi. “Sure, let’s play.” 
“P?” He questioned, staring down at the dashed lines. 
“P? That’s what you’re gonna start with?” You drew a circle for the head.
“What’s wrong with P?” 
“Vowels first! Makes it way easier!” 
“Sorry, I don’t think I’ve played hangman since I was in elementary school.” 
“Which is why I’m an expert, seeing that I’m in an elementary school practically every day. Next guess.” 
“E?” 
“See, there you go!” You marked down several spots after Javi’s guess. 
“Okay, how about M?” 
“That doesn’t mean stop guessing vowels, dummy. But yes, lucky for you there is an M.” You laughed as Javi continued guessing letters and began eating as your food arrived. Through a bite full of your pancakes you gave Javi a dumbfounded look. 
“Javi… you seriously don’t know what it says? You can go hunt down drug lords in South America but hangman on a kids menu at a diner is what’s gonna do you in?” You both snorted as Javi tried to defend himself. 
“Osita, those are two completely different things.” 
“Well I’m not gonna lie Javi, one seems significantly easier than the other.” 
“Fine, I’ll guess. What movie are we seeing?” 
“Great work, detective.” You remarked sarcastically. 
“Gimme that.” He said, snatching the paper from you as he began to draw his own lines. “Your turn.” 
“Okay, thank goodness, I was worried we were going to miss the movie with how long it was taking you to guess. I'm starting with A.” 
Javi begrudgingly noted down some letters. You continued guessing, quickly filling up the lines until you had figured out the clue. 
“Oh, Jurassic Park! I’ve been wanting to see that! Have you seen the first one?” 
“Jesus, that was fast. No, but I figured it would be one you’d like. 
“I was secretly hoping you’d pick that one, so one point for you, Javier Peña.” You winked at him as you took a final bite of your pancakes. “I know this wasn’t the dinner you had planned, but it was still really good. And we still have a movie to go see and plenty of movie snacks to eat. You ready to go?” Javi smiled at you, nodding, still in disbelief how content you were with how things were going.
Your waiter came around to collect your plates and give you the bill, Javi insisting on paying, despite your attempt to physically try to open his hand and put cash in it. As you made your way out to the car, you reached down to grab his hand, embracing the familiarity of your fingers interlocking, his grasp engulfing yours. Your drive to the movie theater included several more tracks of Queen sing alongs, Javi’s favorite notably being your enthusiastic rendition of Don’t Stop Me Now. With the windows slightly rolled down, the wind blew through your hair, a smile stretched across your face. You were so wrapped up in singing, you hadn’t noticed Javi’s eyes locked on you, completely enamored by your presence. Part of him just wanted to say fuck it to the movie. Instead, take you back to your apartment, fuck, to have you in his truck and show you how thankful he was for you. 
As you pulled into the movie theater, you noticed that Javi had parked in a far back corner, a sizable walk from the front entrance. Before you could ask anything, his mouth was crashing into yours, running his hand through the hair on the back of your head, pulling you closer in. His other hand snaked under the hem of your dress, rubbing along your thigh before reaching under your underwear, his fingers grazing along your entrance.  Your hand mirrored, reaching across to grab his face, before planting kisses along his, working your way up to his ear. As much as you wanted to say nothing, you knew you at least had to tease him a little. You could hear his heavy breaths as you bit at his earlobe and whispered. 
“You owe me 5 dollars.” 
He pulled back, shaking his head, his breathing still labored. “Jesus Christ. You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” 
You leaned back in, planting another kiss on his neck before pulling back. “I told you, I don’t lose.” You winked before giving him a quick peck on the lips. “Tell ya what, because I’m such a gracious winner, I’ll donate my 5 dollars towards buying our movie snacks, okay?” 
“Doesn’t that defeat the whole bet?” He laughed at you. 
“Well I needed to find a way to let you get me to buy something on our date so you don’t pay for anything, and I figured you can’t argue with me if I use my winnings from our bet.” 
“Fair enough.” He sighed, knowing there was no point in arguing. 
“Thank you. You ready to go watch some dinosaurs?” You nudged him before hopping out of the passenger’s side door. Javi sat there for a moment, regaining his composure before following beside you into the theater, his hand now taking its familiar spot locked in yours. 
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Javi couldn’t remember the last time he had been in a movie theater. He hadn’t gone in Colombia, probably making it close to a decade since stepping foot into one. Once Javi had told you how long it had been, you wanted to make sure you did everything you could to make it the best experience possible for him. After getting your tickets, you made your way to concessions, getting much more than your 5 dollar bet’s worth of snacks.
“Do you really think we need this much?” Javi asked, now carrying the frozen Coke and M&M’s you had handed him, you carrying a large popcorn. 
“Well first of all, you haven’t been to the movies in forever, so I want you to get the full movie snacking experience. Second, you ate two full bags of popcorn by yourself when we watched Star Wars, so I’m honestly worried this isn’t enough.” Mentally noting that Javi had already had 3 handfuls of M&M’s on your way to your seats. 
You were thankful that you were able to find two seats in the top middle of the theater, considering how crowded it was. You could feel a shift in his demeanor, like he was uneasy with how many people filled the room, constantly scanning back and forth. It wasn’t that Javi minded crowds, it was what could happen in a crowd if something went wrong that made him anxious. He had seen it first hand, and knew how poorly it could end. He hadn’t been somewhere this crowded in a long time, but with his instincts kicking in to overdrive, he could feel himself starting to panic at his current state. 
“Hey, you okay?” 
“Uh yeah, um, I’m fine, it’s just, um-“ 
You patted the seat next to you, ushering Javi to sit down. Once he did, you reached over to grab his hand and squeeze it and rest your head on his shoulder. You had seen this happen before with your brothers, especially your oldest, after he returned back from his first tour of active duty. While you could never truly understand how it felt, the last thing you wanted to do was make Javi feel like you weren’t there for him. “It’s okay. It’s more crowded than I would have thought too. We can stay here or if you need to move or go outside for a little we can do that too. Whatever you need.” You could feel a little of his tension ease as he kissed the top of your head. 
“No, I’m okay, thanks, Osita.” He felt a wave of relief wash over him that some way or another, you just seemed to know what he needed to snap him out of his funk.
“Okay. Just let me know if you need anything. I promise I’ll keep you safe from the dinosaurs.” You giggled while you looked up at him, Javi giving you a playful shake as he moved his arm to wrap over your shoulder, his thumb stroking back and forth across your skin as the lights lowered and previews started. 
As the movie is played, you found Javi’s hand somewhere on your body at all times. Holding your hand, wrapped around you, rubbing your leg, even playing with your hair as you rested your head against the width of his strong shoulders. The other hand was either in the popcorn or reaching down to eat the rest of the M&M’s. Javi really couldn’t have told you what was happening on screen, his eyes had barely left you, watching every reaction to what was happening. He was soaking in every moment, noticing when you laughed, excitedly poking him when something big happened, trying to fill him in so he wasn’t lost on what was happening. He was surprised when you let out a little shriek and grabbed on to him as one of the dinosaurs popped out on screen, even though you insisted that you weren’t scared, just weren’t expecting it. As the movie ended and credits began rolling, you looked over to already find Javi looking at you.
“So, what’d ya think? Good first movie theater experience?” 
“It was great, Osita.” 
“Good, I’m glad. Enjoy your snacks?” You laughed, looking at how the popcorn and M&M’s were completely gone, the frozen Coke only filled with a few sips worth left. 
“Oh shit, yeah, uh sorry…” realizing that he had pretty much eaten everything, oblivious to everything that wasn’t you. 
“It’s okay. I figured given what happened with the last movie we watched. You haven’t been to the movies in who knows how long, I wanted to make sure you got everything you wanted.” Javi wasn’t sure how you did it, but everything you did and said had him falling harder and harder for you. You were everything he wanted. You hadn’t cared when he fucked up the dinner reservations, you wanted to make sure he had fun at the movies, all you wanted was to be with him. Leaning over, he grabbed your face with both hands, engulfing you in a long, deep kiss. He didn’t care if people stared, in fact, he hoped they did. He hoped they’d see how lucky he was that you were his. 
“Wow. What was that for? Not that I’m complaining or anything.” You smirked, pulling away from his grasp. 
He knew it. He knew he couldn’t say it, but he knew it. He settled for what he could say instead. 
“I really like you, Osita. I like you a lot. Thank you for tonight. I, um… I, just, thank you.” 
“Javi, what are you thanking me for? I should be the one thanking you. You’re the one who wanted to do all of this for me. I really like you too, thank you for making tonight so special.”
Kissing the top of your head, he bent down to whisper in your ear. “Tonight’s not over yet, Osita. This isn’t the only part of our date I’m about to make special for you, baby.” He couldn’t help himself. He had spent the whole movie thinking about sneaking his hands further and further up your dress, how perfect you were, blissed out and moaning his name as he was inside you. 
“Jesus, Javi.” You shook your head, speechless. “I don't know what the hell we’re still doing standing here then. I’ll Tyrannosaurus Rex my way through this crowd for you to get me back home ASAP.” He laughed as you grabbed his hand leading him down the stairs and through the crowded lobby back to his car. 
The sexual tension in his car on the drive home was so thick, you would have needed a chainsaw to cut through it. You had both agreed, unlike Sunday, you would both have enough self control to make it back to your apartment, but with the way Javi was staring at you, and how dangerously close his hands were getting under your dress, the prospect of making it another 10 minutes home seemed practically impossible. When you finally reached the parking lot of your apartment, you practically threw yourself out of the car as you and Javi stumbled up the stairway, bodies crashing into one another as your mouths met furiously, hands frantically roaming over each other's bodies. You had no idea how you were able to get out your key and open your door as Javi’s chest pressed into your back, kissing your neck as your hands shakily unlocked your entrance to your apartment. The moment the door closed behind you, your clothes both quickly were shed, leaving a trail of items to your bedroom. Your bodies banged along the hallway as you shuffled your way to the bedroom, your mouths never leaving one another’s. Javi practically threw you onto your bed before shuffling his boxers down to pool around his ankles, his broad and handsome presence hovering over you. He knelt down to the edge of the bed, nudging your knees apart to reveal your pussy, glistening from its wetness. 
“Fuck, I’ll never get over your pussy, baby. Always so fucking wet.” Javi mewled before breathing in heavily and licking a long, broad strip along your clit. His tongue swirled around your heat as your hips bucked towards his face. One hand grasped your sheets while the other ran through his hair, tugging at the dark, curled ends as you moaned. You wanted him so badly to be inside of you, to fill the emptiness you were clenching around. Before you could ask, he slipped not one, but both fingers into you. His hand felt enormous compared to yours, his fingers so much more satisfying as they hit inside you over and over. As both digits curled up and his mouth sucked over your clit, you whimpered breathlessly. 
“Javi, you feel so good. Fuck me, holy shit.” 
“Patience Hermosa, I will, don’t worry.” He winked before diving back down between your legs. His free hand wrapped around your leg, grabbing your hip as you squirmed from how good he felt. The repetitive motion of his thick fingers plunging in you mixed with the skilled movement of his tongue across your sensitive nub had you already clenching down, close to your end. You knew with how worked up you had been this week without him, and what a goddamn menace he was, it wouldn’t take long for you to be on the verge of screaming his name in pleasure. 
“Baby, fuck, fuck I’m so close, Javi, I-“ 
Before you could finish your sentence, your orgasm flooded through your body, legs shaking and head thrown back as you moaned. The pleasure was so intense, and so much better than you could have even remembered. As you came back down from your high, Javi slowly pulled his fingers out from you before sucking them clean, your juices still smeared across his smirking face. “You taste so fucking good, Osita.” 
“Jesus, Javi… holy shit.” You breathed deeply, trying to regain your composure. He leaned over you, kissing up your body, stopping to take each nipple in his mouth, flicking it with his tongue before making his way up your neck.  
“I told you I meant what I said on the phone, baby. Is that okay with you?” His breath was low and raspy as he whispered into your ear. 
“Yes, oh my god, I haven’t stopped thinking about what you said all week. I haven’t been able to look at my dresser the same since.” You both let out light, airy laughs before Javi had picked you up and carried you over to your dresser before sitting you down on top of it. You spread your legs open, pussy still slick and shining from your last orgasm as Javi spit down into his hand before stroking his dick, already hard and desperate to be inside you. He then helped you shimmy down, smacking your ass as you turned around and placed your arms on the dresser. Looking up at the mirror in front of you, you could see the hungry look in Javi’s eyes as he ran his cock up and down your folds, collecting your slick. He kissed your shoulders as he rubbed his hands down the side of your body, squeezing your hips. “Javi, please.” You whimpered, the throbbing between your legs making it feel like he was taking years. 
“What happened to all that patience, Osita?” He smirked as he grabbed another handful of your ass. You were so desperate at this point your brain was unable to form words, only moans pleading for Javi to give you what you wanted. “So needy, huh? I’ll give you what you want, baby girl, don’t worry..” Slowly, he made his way into you, the sting of the sweet stretch of his cock making you breathless. As he bottomed out inside of you, a low groan from him mimicked yours. “So fucking tight, hermosa, fuck.” 
“Javi, move, please.” You were practically begging at this point. 
“I will, Osita. Look in the mirror first, baby.” Your eyes shifted off of the oak of the dresser under your arms and up to the image of Javi’s body towering behind you. His tanned and toned chest, his dark curls and mustache, the lust pooling in his eyes, Jesus, he really was the hottest man you’ve ever seen. 
“I want you to see how pretty you are when I fuck you. See what a good fucking girl you are when you take me so well, when I fuck you full of me. Can you do that for me?” As your eyes met his in the mirror frantically nodding, he began to move himself in and out of you, taking his time. Almost as if he was savoring how good each thrust felt. Each time he pushed back into you, your gasps became louder, the feeling intensifying. The spot he was hitting was so sweet, but your body was pleading for more. 
“Fuck Javi, give me more, please baby. Fuck me harder.” Your eyes once again locking with his, a delightfully surprised look spreading across his face. 
“Yeah, you want me to fuck you harder, hermosa?” You once again nodded rapidly, biting down on your bottom lip. “Use your words, pretty girl.” He teased, slowing his pace enough to make you squirm. 
“Fuck me harder, Javi. Please baby, you feel so good, I want more.” Javi knew his size was larger than average. He definitely hadn’t been gentle with you, but he hadn’t been overly aggressive, not wanting to push your limits and make you uncomfortable. But right now, he had you in the palm of his hand, begging him for more. 
“You sure you want more, baby?” He slowly began to speed up his thrusts, waiting for your answer. 
“Mhmmmm.” You whined at the ridges of his cock rubbing against your walls. “Give it to me, please.” 
With that, his pace changed drastically, his hips snapping into you repeatedly. You could feel every inch of him stretch you out in a way that you couldn’t describe. The way his dick pounded into, filling you so deeply and intensely had your screams echoing off the walls of the room. 
“Fuck, Javi. Fuck, oh my god.” 
“Yeah? Feel good, Osita? My good fucking girl, taking me so well.” 
Suddenly, his arm reached under yours, pulling you up so your back was flushed with his chest. He wrapped his arm over your breasts, his big hand engulfing one while his other hand reached down for your clit. The added pleasure made the building feeling in your stomach creep closer and closer, knowing you were about to snap. His calloused fingertips rubbed back and forth as he leaned into you, his mouth grazing along your neck. “Look at yourself, baby. I know you’re close. I want you to see how pretty you are when you come all over my dick.” Your eyes watched Javi’s hand rub faster along your sensitive bundle of nerves before shifting up to see the damp, dark curls stuck to his forehead, a sheen covering his body in sweat. Each snap of his hips hit harder and harder, you feeling your pussy beginning to flutter around his cock. With only a few more thrusts, you felt something snap inside you, your legs shaking as you moaned Javi’s name as you came. Watching you had Javi reeling, his thrusts becoming more frantic as your eyes met in the mirror before he spoke. 
“Where do you want me, baby?” 
“Inside me. It’s yours Javi. It’s all fucking yours.” 
Your words were all he needed before he took one last pump, spilling inside you. You watched in the mirror as his jaw went slack as his muscles tense. You felt his spend covering your walls, his cock pulsing as he finished. He draped his body over yours, your heavy breathing syncing for a few moments before he pushed himself back up, slowly pulling out of you. You whimpered at the loss, feeling the mix of you running down the side of your leg. Suddenly, you felt Javi’s body press into yours, his arm snaking between your legs as two thick fingers pushed into you, making you gasp. 
“Will you keep me in you, hermosa? So I know you’re all fucking mine?” 
“Yes, Jesus Christ.” You whispered under your breath. He watched you nod as he pushed into you one last time before pulling out his fingers and kissing down your back, chuckling as he pulled away.  
“Nope, just me, Javi. Go lay down on the bed, baby. Let me get something to clean you up.” 
“Oh shut up.” You laughed as you still laid slumped over the dresser. “I would move but I think you fucked me so good my legs don’t work anymore.” He snuck up behind you, picking you up and carrying you over to your bed before plopping you down and heading to the bathroom, leaving you giggling, staring at your ceiling. He returned with a warm washcloth, gently wiping you up before tossing it into your laundry basket and climbing under your covers with you. You scooted close to him, your head resting on his chest, arm draped across and one leg hiked up, resting on top of him. His strong arms wrapped around you, tracing circles along your back as he kissed the top of your head. 
“Thank you, Javi.” 
“For what, Osita?” 
“This was the best date I’ve ever been on.” 
“You must have been on a lot of shitty dates then, Hermosa.” 
“I’m being serious, you goofball! I mean yes, I think before this, the most romantic thing someone had done for me was when Paul actually remembered our anniversary, and then asked me if we could go to his favorite sports bar instead of the nice restaurant I picked because he didn’t want to miss a football game that was on that night. But I’m not kidding, the fact that you wanted to spend time with me, let alone plan something nice, I don’t know… it just really means a lot. So thank you.” 
Javi paused for a moment before he responded. He wasn’t sure how to feel. Happy, relieved even, that you had such a good time on a date that anyone else probably would have deemed a disaster? Thankful that you wanted to spend just as much time with him as he did with you? Heartbroken that there had been one too many idiots who had come in and out of your life that had treated you like shit and you had accepted that was as good as it got? 
“Osita, I said it before and I’ll say it again, you deserve it. You’re beautiful and smart and sexy as hell and even if you won’t admit it, you deserve someone who sees that. I still can’t believe that you think that I’m worth any of your time, but I’m sure as hell glad that you do.” He kissed your head again as you nuzzled it closer to his chest, trying to fight back the tears welling in your eyes. Before you could say anything he finished with, “I sure as fuck hope that I never meet Paul either, cause I’d give that fucking guy a piece of my mind.” 
You let out a small huff as you looked up at him. “Ease up there, cowboy. Don’t worry, I think everyone I know has already given him enough shit to last him 3 lifetimes. You’re really sweet, Jav. Thank you.” You stretched up to plant a soft kiss on his lips as you reached up to cup his face. 
“Of course, baby. I lo-“ He stopped himself as quickly as possible. His brain hadn’t even processed the words that were coming out of his mouth. There was no fucking way he could say it, even if he knew it. He just prayed you hadn’t heard his slip up before he continued. “I really like you, and I’m so glad you had a good time tonight. I did too.” 
“Can I see you again this weekend? I know you have to work tomorrow and we just saw each other today and-“ 
“Yes, Osita. I’d love to see you again this weekend. I promised my dad I’d help him with some things around the ranch tomorrow night and Saturday morning but other than that, I’m all yours.” He leaned down to kiss you, his mustache tickling your neck as you pulled away. 
“Perfect. Can I pick something for us to do since you got to pick what we did today?” 
“Is it a surprise, or do I get to know?” He asked mockingly. 
“If yours got to be a surprise, so does mine. I don’t have anything specific picked out yet, but I have a few ideas.” 
“Can’t wait to see what it is, Osita.” 
You glanced over at your alarm clock, forgetting the fact that you didn’t have to set it again until August, and Javi still had one more day until his weekend. “What time do you usually get up in the morning?” 
“Why?” He asked, fingers still tracing up and down your shoulders. 
“So I can get up with you in the morning and make you breakfast and say goodbye to you before you go to work.” Your fingers mirrored his, circling over his bare chest. 
“Hermosa, it’s your first day of summer, you’re not getting up with me in the morning, you get to sleep in.” 
“What if I want to get up with you in the morning? You gonna force me to stay in bed until you leave?” 
“Fine, I’m not waking you up on purpose, but if you’re awake and want to get up with me I’m not going to say no.” 
“Well then I will see you in the morning, bright and early.”
“Okay, Osita. I’m gonna go run down to my car and grab my bag, are you okay if I leave the door unlocked so you don’t have to let me back in?” 
“Sure. I’ll be right here, unless you’ve pulled off hiding your serial killer act this long and you and the rest of your gang have found the perfect opportunity at this moment.” 
“Dork. I’ll be back up in a few, okay?” 
“Safe travels out there.” 
He laughed as he collected his clothes scattered on the floor trailing down the hallway to put on before heading out the door. You rolled over, inhaling the scent Javi had left behind on your pillow, his space still warm from his body. You pulled your covers further over you, snuggling in closer to the space he just was in. Even without him physically next to you, the feeling of knowing he would be back next to you soon flooded your body with a sense of comfort. Not realizing how tired you were until this moment, you felt your eyelids begin to droop, growing heavier with each blink. You swore to yourself you could stay awake the few minutes Javi would be gone, but by the time he returned back up with his bag, he was greeted with the soft sound of snores filling your bedroom. He set his things down at the end of the bed before turning off the lights and stripping himself of his clothes once again before crawling under the covers, spooning you, wrapping your body in his arms. 
“Dulces sueños, mi amor. Te adoro. Todo es más bonito si estás conmigo. Soy tan afortunado de tenerte” (Sweet dreams, my love. I adore you. Everything is more beautiful when I’m with you. I’m so lucky to have you.) 
He kissed your head as he pulled you in closer. He slowly breathed out, a sense of peace and comfort filling his body. He took one more moment to savor your presence before closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep next to you. There were few things in life that Javier Peña had ever been absolutely sure of. You were one of those few things. 
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miley1442111 · 6 months
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back to chicago-c.berzatto
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a/n: i'm probably going to make this two parts (or more) because I really like this idea so this is part 1. i imagined a fem reader and it's mentioned quite a few times but as usual, imagine what you like. SET AFTER SEASON 2
summary: a double date with your boyfriend at the Bear can only go well, right?
pairings: carmenberzatto x femreader (complicated relationship), platonicthe bear x reader, romantic oc x reader
warnings: general angst, mentions of mikeys death
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You and Carmen had grown up together, living across the street from one another. Your childhoods were wildly different, his filled with family drama and personal independence. Yours filled with absent parents and the necessity of independence. You went to school together, went to prom together (as ‘friends’), and you were each other's first kiss. Then, you went off to college for law and business and he went off to cook. You vowed to never go back to Chicago, but stayed in contact with Mikey until he died. Then you came back. You felt a debilitating need to see Mikey off. Watch him be put into the ground. You had hoped Carmen would show up. He didn’t. 
You had stayed in Chicago, you had the time and money. Being a successful lawyer in New York was a great gig. Straight out of college you’d gotten a job at a top law firm, and just last year you were made partner. Taking time off for personal reasons wasn’t questioned. Even if it had happened a year ago. Even though you were in Chicago purely for the reason of nostalgia. You’d gone last year for the funeral and this time it was just because something in you missed it. 
It felt good to breathe in the Chicago air again as you walked down the darkened streets, ready for a date at a new Chicago restaurant, The Bear. It was where The Beef had been. Devastating how someone just came in and wrecked all of Mikey’s work. You thought to yourself as you opened the door and searched for the man you were meeting. Adrian, an accountant you’d met at a jazz club, was a nice man. He was sweet and reliable, funny and kind and you both got along well. He was never too handsy and always on time… but you still feared full commitment. He waved you over and you sat beside him as he pressed a kiss to your lips, you smiled, greeting his friends. This ‘double date’ thing had been his idea. This restaurant had been his idea, and as you stared Richie Jerimovich in the face, a shocked dumb-founded look on his face, you remembered why you left Chicago in the first place You remembered Carmen always wanted to call his restaurant ‘The Bear’ and you remembered that there was no getting out of this. 
Shit. 
“Do you two know each other?” Adrian asked, a hand on your shoulder, pulling you back to reality. 
“Fuck yeah we do! Cousin, how are you?” Richie smiled, forgoing the formalities and pulling you out of your seat and into a hug. 
“Richie, how are you?” You mustered up your best fake smile, trying to keep the gaze of Adrian’s friends unsuspicious. 
“I’m great Bug, how are you?” he asked, using the wretched nickname you endured for all those years. 
“Bug?” Adrian smiled. 
“Childhood nickname,” you explained quickly. “I’m good, Rich, real good.”
“You're a fancy lawyer now huh? What was it, New York right?” 
“That’s right,” you smiled. You couldn’t ruin this dinner. Adrian had flown all the way from New York to see you. This was the first time in a month that he’d seen you. Adrian’s friends had to like you. You had to make them like you.
“Sugar’s going to freak out when she sees you,” Richie smiled. You followed Nat on instagram, but refused to like any of her pictures, not wanting her to reach out. You knew she was pregnant. “You won’t believe it, she’s pregnant!”
“Oh my god! I must congratulate her,” you smiled, not realising what that tiny statement would bring.
“I’ll take you to the back now! I’ll give the rest of you guys the tour after,” he smiled at the rest of the table and they seemed to be excited by the prospect of seeing the kitchen so you plastered on a smile, kissed Adrian’s cheek, and let Richie lead the way. 
As you edged closer to the kitchen, you could hear voices, but thankfully not Carmen’s. You turned a corner, pushed through the door behind Richie, and you were led to a small office. Inside sat Natalie ‘Sugar’ Berzatto, ‘Uncle Jimmy’, and Carmen fucking Berzatto. You let out a breath.
“Look who came in to say hi,” Richie announced, stepping to the side to stop covering you. Sugar and Jimmy’s eyes lit up and they immediately started to hug you, yet Carmen stayed frozen to his spot against the wall.
“My love, how’s New York?” Jimmy asked, his arms around you. 
“It’s great, everything I wanted,” you smiled. Your life was something you felt you could be proud of. You loved New York and you loved your job. You had great friends, friends that were practically family. You had Adrian, he was great and he loved you. Yet you still thought about the Berzattos daily. “Congratulations Natalie!” You turned to her, hugging her side due to her large bump. 
You exchanged small talk back and forth with Jimmy and Sugar as Richie and Carmen whispered in the corner. You couldn’t make out what they were saying but it worried you. 
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
carmen
There you were. Standing there, fucking glowing. And here I was, a stained white t-shirt on and a pair of fucking jeans on. You looked beautiful, the type of beautiful that would make me jealous of the guy you were going home to if I saw you walking down the street. What were you doing here? Why the fuck were you standing in my office, looking so damn beautiful, yet so unattainable?
“She’s here with a guy,” Richie whispered into my ear. 
“What?” I scoffed. 
“She’s here with a guy!” He whispered louder. I felt my blood boil. So you’re here, in my fucking restaurant, with some other fucking guy. Awesome. I searched your hands for an engagement ring, or worse, a wedding ring. I saw none and my ears refocused into the room. 
“So?” I sighed, feigning disinterest.
“ ‘So’? Your fucking girl is with another guy. In your restaurant!” Richie snapped. 
“She’s not my fucking girl anymore, stop talking outta your ass,” I shoved him, making him leave me alone. My words were deflections. Of course you were my fucking girl, you always would be. You were perfection personified in my eyes, even with any of your flaws. And I wanted you to be my girl, but I got so fucking in my head about it I couldn‘t ask, and then we left and went our separate ways. 
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
You
“Look, I’d better get back to my table, my boyfriend’s waiting-”
“Boyfriend?” Jimmy cut you off. “I thought you and Carmy were dating?” 
“Yeah, when we were like 17-” You started but Carmen cut you off. 
“We never dated.”
There was an uncomfortable silence. Your smile faltered, then faded entirely and it was all Carmen’s fault. 
“Look, I’m sure my table is waiting on me to order, it was great to see you guys,” you smiled and left the room, walking back to your table, a sigh leaving your lips. 
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Carmen 
“You are such a fuckin’ asshole!” Richie shouted as Sugar and Jimmy sighed. “What the fuck are you talkin’ about ‘we never dated’? You’re still fuckin’ in love with her!” 
“Richie just fuck off ok! I don’t have to explain shit to you-” I started but I was cut off by Sugar. 
“That was such a shitty thing to say Bear! We haven’t seen that girl in fucking years and of course you had to fucking ruin it. We’ll probably never fucking see her again!” 
“I know that was shitty Sugar, I’mf fucking aware!” I started as I walked out of the office and into the kitchen. I wanted to make your food amazing. That was the only way you’d ever forgive me, right?
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
You
You walked back to your table and answered any and all questions pertaining to your relationships with the Berzattos, leaving out that you had a crush on Carmen. You allowed yourself to peek into the kitchen window and you saw him furiously moving. He was mixing something? You couldn’t see. Adrian’s kissing your shoulder pulled you back to reality. Adrian was great. He knew how hard tonight was for you. He knew about what happened in your childhood. He knew about what happened with Carmen. Adrian’s friends, Emilia and John both got up to take a smoke break and he turned to you. 
“Are you alright?” He asked, squeezing your hand.
“Fine, it’s just… messy, I guess.”
“Well you’re doing great. John and Emilia love you,” he smiled and kissed your cheek. “I wouldn’t have picked this place if I knew, I just wanted to see you-”
“I know,” you smiled at him. “I wanted to see you too,” You pressed a soft kiss to his lips and he grinned. 
“You look so beautiful tonight,” he flirted. 
“So do you,” you simply said and he chuckled. 
“Such a flirt,” he joked and you laughed, a real laugh. He kissed you again, quick and sweet. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” you said matter-of-factly and his face lit up. You truly had no idea if you actually loved him. Your commitment issues were constantly getting in the way of your relationships, so you had to do something, telling him you love him, I admit, might’ve been a crazy thing to start with but, you were running out of options.
He kissed you again, less quickly but still polite enough to not be seen as improper. John and Emilia started walking back in, so you pulled away to see him with a boyish grin on his face. 
That felt… good? Like it was right?
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Carmen
I walked out into my own restaurant, nervous as I was when I was 17, asking you to the prom. All you have to do is explain the dishes. I thought to myself. I know my dishes. Richie walked behind me with the other two dishes in his hands, and I took a deep breath. There you were, radiant as ever, laughing along with what someone said. I would do fucking anything to just have your number so I could just text you sometimes. 
I walked up, standing beside you and your smile flattened, looking fake. 
“Hey Carmen,” you greeted. 
“And how do you know the owner?” John asked, excited about all of the attention your table was getting.
“We were-”
“We dated in highschool,”  I said before you could finish and John chuckled as your boyfriend put a protective arm around your shoulder. I explained all the dishes and placed them in front of each of your table. 
“Thanks Bear,” you mumbled and my heart practically stopped. 
“Well, thanks,” your boyfriend gritted out. I smirked. 
——————————————————————————————————-
(PART 2)
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tortillamastersblog · 15 days
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✐ Only Human | Kara Danvers ✎
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Pairing: Kara Danvers x reader
Warnings: minor injuries, mentions of blood
Summary: Proposing to Kara doesn’t go quite as planned because in all her excitement she forgets you’re only human. . .
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Midvale is a beautiful town. The pine trees along the road are a luscious green and the few lakes I’ve spotted here and there on my drive glitter invitingly in the late summer sun.
I turn down another empty road and take a deep breath of the salty ocean air. I have the window rolled down and the radio turned up, smiling from ear to ear at the prospect of seeing Kara and her family again.
We’re taking some time off from work and superhero-ing and decided staying at Eliza’s would be the best way to relax and reconnect with each other and the rest of the Danvers family.
Things have been busy lately, especially at my job because I’m up for a promotion, which is also why I didn’t drive here with Alex and Kelly two days ago.
Kara flew, getting Alex and Kelly to take her bags with them.
I continue driving a couple more minutes, humming to the song on the radio until Eliza’s familiar beach house comes into view.
The sun has just gone down which leaves a faint orange hue across the sky and I smile when I see the lights turned on inside the house.
I pull into the driveway, turn off the car and roll up the windows before getting out and rounding the car to get my bag from the trunk.
“You made it!”
Alex’s voice makes me look up and I smile instantly when my eyes land on her standing in the open doorway with a glass of wine in her hand.
“Alex!” I beam and jog up the stairs to the door to pull her into a tight hug. “I missed you.”
Alex squeezes me with one arm and holds her wineglass away from our bodies with the other, pulling back with a smile of her own. “I missed you, too. Did you get everything you need?”
I nod and hold up my bag for reference, feeling nerves bubble up in the pit of my stomach at the thought of the small velvet box stuffed between my shirts.
You see, being stuck at work wasn’t the only reason I didn’t take Alex and Kelly up on their offer of carpooling. My jeweler called me the day before we were supposed to leave and told me there had been some delay on the ring I commissioned.
So, I had no other choice but to postpone my departure and because Alex didn’t buy my half-lie of being stuck at work a little while longer I came clean and told her all about my plans of proposing.
She was ecstatic, going on a rant about how my idea of doing it on the beach was perfect and how happy she was for Kara for having someone like me.
“Perfect. Now, come on in. We finished dinner a while ago, but there’s still some leftovers in the kitchen.” She offers to take my bag up to Kara’s childhood bedroom and I accept with an embarrassed smile when my stomach grumbles loudly.
“Y/N!”
Kelly is the first to notice me when I step into the living room. She just came in from the porch outside where Eliza and Kara are sitting on cushioned Adirondack chairs wrapped in throw blankets.
“Hi. It’s good to see you again,” I say with a smile, accepting the gentle hug she pulls me into. “How have you been? How’s work?”
“I’ve been great. Work is. . . Well, it’s work, what can I say?” she laughs before adding, “But I do love my job, so there’s really not that much I can complain about. How are you? I heard you’re up for a promotion.”
“I’m good, and yeah I am up for a promotion, but my boss said—“
A shriek makes my head whip around and I only see a flash of blonde hair before my favorite person launches herself into my arms, sending me stumbling backward. “My baby!”
I laugh breathlessly and grab the kitchen counter to regain my balance. “Jesus. . .”
The blonde wraps her legs around my waist and peppers my face with kisses. “Not Jesus, just Kara.”
I smile incredulously and glance at Kelly for some kind of explanation as to why Kara’s acting like this, but the older woman just shrugs and watches the scene unfold in front of her with a fond look in her eyes.
“What on Earth has gotten into you, my love?” I chuckle and squeeze the back of Kara’s thighs to get her to look at me.
Her blue eyes shine with love and I’m almost convinced she’s simply happy to see me but then she kisses me and I’m met with the taste of alien liquor on her lips. “N’thing,” she slurs with a dopey grin. “‘M jus’ happy to see you.”
“Mhmm, I can tell,” I tease which makes her frown comically.
“Hey, don’t be mean.” She pouts, but I’m quick to kiss it away with a couple of pecks.
“There. Better?” I ask and she nods, draping her arms loosely around my shoulders before unwrapping her legs from around my waist. I let her slide down my body and tuck her hair behind her ears.
“Much, thank you.” She leans into my touch and closes her eyes briefly before looking up at me with an adoring, yet slightly drunk look on her face.
It makes my insides melt and I can’t help but dip my head down to press another kiss to her lips, savoring the way my lips tingle at the contact before whispering, “Hello, darling. How are you?”
Kara tightens her arms around my shoulders and hides her face against the side of my neck. “Perfect now that you’re her.”
She sounds surprisingly sober which means that the effects of the alien liquor must already be wearing off. It gets her drunk pretty quickly but because of her fast metabolism it also gets absorbed easily, making the high intense but short-lived.
I kiss the top of her head, another smile growing on my face when I catch Eliza’s eyes outside. She smiles and waves at me, mouthing a “hi!”, just as my stomach growls again.
“Have you had something to eat yet?” Kara pulls back to look at me.
I shake my head. “Not yet, but Alex said something about leftovers?”
Kara goes to answer but Kelly beats her to it. “Why don’t you head outside and I’ll get you some? I was heading to the kitchen anyway to grab a glass of water.”
“Oh that’s nice, but I can—“
“Thanks, Kelly!” Kara interrupts cheerfully and tugs on my hand to lead me onto the porch.
I chuckle and look over my shoulder to thank Kelly before greeting Eliza properly.
She hugs me, asking about the drive here before Kara tugs on my hand again, pulling me onto the chair she occupied earlier and plopping down on my lap.
The view of the ocean is spectacular as the last hues of orange disappear to make way for the starry night sky.
I get lost in the sight for a moment, enjoying the feeling of Kara snuggled up against me as she chats with Eliza until Kelly returns with a steaming bowl of food and a glass of water.
She hands me the bowl and puts the glass down on the small table in the middle of the chairs and returns to her own seat.
Kara shifts so I can eat with her still in my arms and continues talking to her mom and Kelly.
Alex joins us a second later, taking a seat on the chair next to her wife’s and chimes in on the current conversation which I’m not particularly paying attention to.
I’m tired from driving and simply focus on the kryptonian warmth Kara is emitting and eating Eliza’s delicious chilly until the bowl is empty and my eyelids are drooping.
“You tired?” Kara whispers when I try to stifle a yawn. She sounds and looks completely sober now, playing with the collar of my shirt absentmindedly.
“Yeah, and I’d really like to shower before bed,” I admit quietly so as to not interrupt the story Alex is currently telling of her time in med school.
“Okay then,” she says getting to her feet slowly and pulling me up with her.
Eliza’s eyes dart in our direction at the movement and when she sees the exhaustion on my face she smiles sympathetically.
“. . . And then that lady just vomited all over me. I honestly thought I was going to throw up right on top of her, too, but I managed to run out before that happened,” Alex finished her story and all of us gag at the thought of being thrown up on ourselves.
“You guys going to bed?” Eliza asks once everyone has calmed down again.
I nod, feeling Kara playing with my fingers. “Yeah. It’s been a long day. Thank you for dinner. It was delicious, as always.”
Elize smiles bashfully. “Thank you, dear. Good night.”
“G’night.” I nod at Alex and Kelly and go to take my bowl inside, but Eliza tells me to just leave it.
Then, it’s just me and Kara, making out way inside and up to her childhood bedroom.
She used to share a room with Alex, but when Jeremiah passed, they turned his study into a bedroom for her.
“How was your day, darling?” I ask once we get to the room.
Kara closes the door behind us and jumps on the bed, having already changed into her pajamas before I got here.
“Quiet,” she says, taking off her glasses.
I hum in understanding and go to my bag to grab a change of clothes and my toothbrush. The city is loud, even for a human like me, so I know what she means when she says it’s quiet up here in Midvale. Yes, she can still hear heartbeats a mile away, but the constant buzz of the city is missing and I can only imagine what a relief it must be to get away from all of it for a while.
“How was the drive?” she asks. She gets under the covers and pulls the comforter up to her chest.
“There was some traffic, but it wasn’t too bad. I’m just glad I’m here now.” I smile tiredly and take a seat on the edge of the mattress next to her.
“I’m glad you’re here, too. What do you want to do tomorrow?” she asks, tracing the shape of my brow with a finger before dropping her hand in her lap again.
“Go to the beach, maybe? And then have some dinner at Mike’s,” I suggest. I know I want to propose, I just don’t know when yet, so I’ll just see how everything goes and then do it whenever it feels right.
“Sounds good.” Kara leans forward to peck my cheek and shoos me away. “Now go shower so we can cuddle.”
I chuckle and squeeze her leg over the comforter. Then I grab my clothes and head to the bathroom down the hall.
I shower, wash my face and brush my teeth before heading back to the bedroom with a yawn.
I expect Kara to be in bed where I left her, but when I enter the room she’s crouched on the floor next to the bed with her back turned to me.
“What are you doing?” I ask with a confused smile, turning to put my dirty clothes in the hamper behind the door.
Kara doesn’t say anything which makes me frown and turn back around to see her now facing me with tears in her eyes.
“What’s wrong?!” I rush across the room and kneel in front of her. I lift my hands, wanting to cup her cheeks but then her eyes drop to her lap and I follow her gaze with my own.
Oh shit. . .
Clutched between her fingers is an all too familiar, small, black box.
We both look back up at the same time and when our teary eyes meet I can’t help but smile sheepishly.
“Surprise?” I whisper. My heart is pounding in my chest and I feel like throwing up when Kara stays silent.
Her eyes dart between mine and for a second, when a tear runs down her cheek, I think even just the thought of proposing to her was ridiculous because she obviously doesn’t want to be with me like that.
But then she finally speaks, her voice shaky and quiet.“Ask me.”
My eyebrows dart up knowing surprise and I swallow thickly. “Are you sure?”
She nods as another tear runs down her cheek, but this time she smiles softly and pushes the box into my hands.
“O-Okay.” I get to my feet and pull her with me, only to drop back down on one knee in front of her. “Kara. . . I— This isn’t how I thought this was going to go, but here we are I guess. . .”
Kara smiles, teary eyed, and wipes at her cheeks. Her blue eyes are trained on me and her hands twitch as I speak, showing how much effort it takes for her not to reach out and touch me.
“I love you, Kara,” I start, my voice shaking with emotion. “I’ve loved you ever since you spilled your coffee all over me at Noonan’s and I love you now, standing here in your pajamas. You are beautiful and smart and the size of your heart leaves me utterly and completely speechless sometimes. The last five years have shown me what it is like to love someone, and be loved by someone wholeheartedly and I can’t imagine not spending the rest of my life with you.
“You once told me that being with you was dangerous because you’re Supergirl, but since I’ve known you I’ve never felt safer. You always have my back and I hope when you’re with me you feel even just a fraction of the sense of security you make me feel.” I take a deep breath and open the box carefully to reveal the sparkling ring inside. It’s a simple gold band with a princess-cut diamond sitting on top of it.
Kara’s eyes widen at the sight—even though she knew it was coming—and lifts one of her hands to cover her mouth in shock.
“So. . . Will you marry me, Kara Zor-El?” I whisper.
“Yes.” The reply is immediate and within a second she surges forward to kiss me. The impact of her lips on mine is so forceful, it makes me topple over with a groan and sends a stinging pain through my face.
“Shit.” I cringe and break the kiss immediately, bringing my hand up to my nose only to pull it back and see that it’s now covered in blood.
“Rao, I’m sorry.” Kara’s scrambles to get off me and helps me sit up before inspecting my nose. “Shit, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
A new wave of tears makes its way down her cheeks, but they’re no longer tears of joy. Regret and guilt is written all over her face and when I wince, scrunching my nose, she backs up even more so she’s no longer touching me.
“Hey, no. It’s okay.” I wince again, but try to focus on Kara instead of the pain. I crawl forward and touch her chin with my clean hand, the open ring box on the floor next to us. “It’s not like this is the first time this has happened,” I try to joke, but it falls flat.
“Y/N, I—“
“No.” I push a finger to her lips. “I know you didn’t mean to hurt me, and I’m already feeling better, see? It’s not even bleeding anymore.”
Kara looks up with red-rimmed eyes, the guilt still evident on her face. “But—“
“No buts, baby,” I say with a smile. I grab the box off the floor and take the ring out before holding it up to Kara’s face. “Do you still want to marry me?”
She nods and wipes at her eyes again. “Of course.”
“Good.” I take her hand and, after waiting for another nod, slip the ring onto her finger. “Then that’s all that matters right now.”
Kara stares at the ring and I watch in awe as the heartbreak slowly melts off her face. It’s replaced by adoration and love and when she catches me staring at her, her lips twitch into a tentative smile.
“I love you,” she whispers, lifting a hand to brush her fingers against my cheek. “And I can’t wait to marry you.”
“I love you, too, and I will do everything in my power to give you the wedding you deserve.” I lean into her touch and grab her other hand, kissing the ring on her finger.
Shaking her head, Kara gently rests her forehead against my own. “I don’t need anything fancy. I just want you there.” I smile and tilt my head, wanting to close the distance between us, but a hand on my chest stops me. “Let’s get your face cleaned first.”
I huff playfully but agree, letting her help me to my feet before she pulls me to the bathroom.
I take a seat on the edge of the tub as Kara wets a towel.
“Tell me if I hurt you,” she says and I nod, closing my eyes as she gets to work cleaning the blood off my face. “Well, your nose is not broken, but it will probably bruise.”
“It’s okay. Like I said, it’s not our first rodeo.” This time, Kara cracks a smile and when I pull her to stand in between my legs, she drops the bloodied towel and leans down to capture my lips in a sweet kiss.
Her hands land on the side of my face, making me shiver when I feel the ring against my cheek.
“Let’s go to bed,” she says when we break apart. At the mention of going to sleep, I yawn which makes her giggle.
I change out of my bloodied top and go to throw on a clean shirt, only to freeze when I remember that the ring was at the bottom of my bag and I have yet to ask why Kara was going through it in the first place.
“Hey, can I ask you something?” I zip my bag and put on the shirt before joining Kara in the bed.
“Sure.” She snuggles up to me and places her hand on my chest, admiring the ring in the dim light of the bedside lamp.
“Why were you going through my bag?” I ask gently, not wanting to sound accusing.
Blushing furiously, Kara hides her face in the crook of my neck. “I wanted to steal one of your hoodies.”
I laugh and pull her closer. “Of course you did.“
Kara chuckles too and once our laughter has died down, she rolls over to turn off the light before returning to my side.
“I love you,” she whispers against my collarbone. “And I can’t wait to tell everyone that we’re going to get married.”
“I love you, too. . . Fiancée.” I run my hand up and down her back and shiver when the action earns me a kiss against my throat.
“Mhmm, Fiancée.” Kara exhales loudly and snuggles even closer before going still. “I like the sound of that.”
“Me too,” I admit and before long I fall asleep with a smile on my face.
________________________________________________
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footylover · 1 year
Text
Part 2. It’s a beautiful thing to meet someone who makes you forget your troubles
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(Leah Williamson x Reader)
Leah and you have been going out A LOT. Coffee dates, football matches, walks on the park, you name it. Yet, amidst all the laughter, shared stories, and playful teasing, there was a topic neither of you broached directly – the steadily growing emotions that seemed to deepen with each passing day.
Leah: "Would you like to meet again tomorrow?"
Her text came as you were packing for your trip. You paused, a pang of regret piercing through your heart. You wanted nothing more than to see her again, but duty called. How could you forget telling her about your trip.
Y/N: "Leah, I wish I could. But I have to leave for Australia tomorrow. I’m covering the Women's World Cup."
Her response came after a pause.
Leah: "That's fantastic, Y/N! I know you'll do great. And don't worry about us meeting, I'll be in Australia too, supporting the team."
Her words warmed your heart, her support seeping into you through the screen.
Y/N: "That's great to hear, Leah. I would love to meet up in Australia when I'm off duty."
Leah: "Sounds like a plan. I'll see you Down Under, Y/N."
the first few days in Australia were a blur of jet lag and adjusting to your new schedule. You missed Leah's presence, her energy, and even her witty football banter.
One evening, after a particularly grueling day, you decided to reach out to her. Your heart pounded in your chest as you typed the message.
Y/N: "Just finished for the day. Could use some cheering up."
You hit send and waited anxiously. A few moments later, your phone buzzed with a response.
Leah: "Missing the English weather already, are we?"
Her light-hearted response brought a smile to your face.
Y/N: "Not so much the weather as the company."
You could almost hear her laughter through the screen when she responded.
Leah: "Guess I'll have to do something about that. Let's meet tomorrow? I’m flying this afternoon."
The prospect of seeing Leah again brightened your mood instantly.
Y/N: "Sounds perfect. Looking forward to it, Leah."
With the promise of a reunion with Leah, you found yourself eagerly anticipating the next day. Australia was no longer just about work; it also held the promise of shared laughter and moments with Leah.
The next day, your heart pounded with anticipation as you made your way to the location Leah had texted you - a local beach famed for its stunning sunsets. As you arrived, you found her waiting, two ice creams in her hand.
"There you are!" Leah exclaimed, a smile lighting up her face. After a big hug she handed you one of the ice creams. "Thought this might cool you down in the Aussie heat."
The ice cream was a welcome relief, and the casual banter set a comfortable tone for the evening. You both strolled along the beach, shoes in hand, and talked about everything under the sun - from football to your favorite childhood memories.
Leah laughed heartily at a particularly funny story you shared. "You know, Y/N," she said, her eyes twinkling in the fading sunlight, "you have a knack for storytelling."
You chuckled, "Well, it's part of my job. I've got to keep the audience engaged."
"And you're doing an excellent job at that," Leah responded, nudging you playfully. The casual flirtation caused a pleasant flutter in your stomach.
During a bout of laughter, you accidentally smeared a bit of your ice cream on Leah's nose. You giggled, reaching out to wipe it off with your finger.
"There, all clean," you said, showing her the ice cream on your finger before licking it off.
In response, Leah scooped a bit of her own ice cream and playfully smeared it on your lips. "Payback," she declared, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
Feigning shock, you asked, "Well, aren't you going to clean it up?"
Without missing a beat, Leah leaned in, her eyes flicking down to your lips. "Well, since you insist..." she murmured, before pressing her lips against yours.
The surprise kiss was sweet, with a hint of ice cream, and left you both breathless. As Leah pulled away, she was grinning from ear to ear. "That's one way to clean up."
You chuckled, your heart still racing from the unexpected kiss. "Indeed, it is."
After the unexpected yet delightful kiss, the atmosphere between you and Leah took on a newfound playfulness. You both continued to stroll along the beach, hand in hand, teasing each other and exchanging flirtatious remarks.
Leah chuckled, leaning closer to you. "I must say, you have a talent for turning ice cream into a romantic gesture."
"And you have a talent for making me blush," you quipped, feeling your cheeks warm at her compliment.
The two of you found a cozy spot to sit on the sand, leaning back against a large rock as you continued to chat and laugh. The conversation flowed effortlessly, and the connection between you both deepened with every shared moment.
As the night sky filled with stars, Leah pointed out constellations, telling you stories about each one. You listened intently, captivated by her passion for the stars and her ability to make everything feel magical.
"Have you always been this charming?" you asked, a hint of admiration in your voice.
Leah flashed you a grin. "Well, it's just that being around you brings out the best in me."
You chuckled, feeling a mixture of flattery and happiness. "Likewise," you said, reaching out to take her hand in yours.
The two of you sat there in comfortable silence, enjoying each other's presence and the serenity of the beach. The occasional soft laughter and gentle teasing only added to the magic of the night.
As the evening drew to a close, Leah stood up and held out her hand. "Shall we head back?"
You gladly accepted her hand, standing up as well. "Lead the way."
The walk back was filled with stolen glances and lingering touches. It felt like the world had slowed down, allowing the two of you to savor the moment.
As you reached the end of the beach, Leah turned to face you. "I had a wonderful time tonight," she said, her voice soft.
"Me too," you replied, unable to hide the smile on your face.
Leah leaned in, her lips hovering close to yours. "I hope this isn't the last time we do something like this," she whispered.
"It won't be," you said, your heart pounding with anticipation. "I promise."
With that, Leah sealed the night with a tender, lingering kiss. The beach seemed to hold its breath as the two of you embraced, the world around you fading into the background.
As you both pulled away, Leah looked at you with a mixture of happiness and hope in her eyes. "I'll hold you to that promise," she said, her voice filled with sincerity.
"You can count on it," you replied, a newfound certainty in your heart.
Leah smiled, her hand gently squeezing yours. "And speaking of promises, you owe me an England match. How about we meet tomorrow for the game?"
You grinned, "I wouldn't miss it for the world."
Australia was a whirlwind of adrenaline and football frenzy. The Women's World Cup was an intense assignment, but one that you cherished.
The day of the England match arrived. As agreed, you met Leah in the VIP box. The energy in the stadium was electrifying, but your focus was on the woman beside you. Her insights into the game, combined with her witty remarks, made the experience more enjoyable.
Minutes before the game ended, your phone buzzed with a message. It was from your producer, instructing you to come down to the field to interview some players.
Leah noticed your distracted look. "Everything alright, Y/N?"
You sighed, showing her the message. "Duty calls. I need to go down and do some interviews."
She nodded, understanding in her eyes. "Go, do your thing. I'll be right here when you're done."
With a smile of gratitude, you made your way to the field. England's triumphant match against Haiti saw you interviewing the woman of the match, Georgia Stanway. Amidst the post-match chaos, Georgia's vibrant energy and humor made the encounter surprisingly enjoyable. Her name was mentioned often in Leah's conversations, and knowing she was a close friend of Leah gave you a strange sense of satisfaction.
After finishing the interview and as you exchanged words with Georgia, she threw you a curveball. "So, how's Leah?" she asked, an impish grin spreading across her face.
Your heart skipped a beat. "She's good. We've hung out a bit," you admitted, feeling a flush creep up your neck.
Georgia's eyebrows wiggled suggestively. "Just 'hung out', huh? Sure, sure."
Georgia spoke highly of Leah, her words filled with admiration and respect for her friend. It gave you a sense of warmth, knowing that Leah was held in such high regard by her peers.
After wrapping up the interview with Georgia, you quickly made your way back to the VIP box. Leah was waiting for you, her eyes lighting up as she caught sight of you.
Returning to the box, you found Leah waiting, a soft smile playing on her lips as she caught sight of you. "You're quite the natural at this, Y/N," she complimented as you slid into the seat next to her.
"Thanks, Leah," you responded, your heart fluttering at her words.
However, as the match ended, the VIP box started to feel crowded, with a lot of people starting to network the noise level increasing. Leah seemed to notice your discomfort and leaned in close, her voice barely audible over the din, "How about we move to the private room in the back of the box? It'll be quieter, more intimate."
Her suggestion sent a thrill through you. The thought of being alone with Leah, especially after the shared kiss from yesterday, made your heart pound in anticipation.
"That sounds perfect," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.
The private room was dimly lit, giving off a warm, cozy vibe. Leah turned to face you, a soft look in her eyes. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence filled with anticipation and unspoken desires.
"Y/N," Leah started, her voice low and steady. "I can't help but keep thinking about...about the kiss. And how much I want to do it again."
The confession hung in the air between you, the intensity of her gaze making your heart flutter. "Leah," you whispered, unable to hide the eagerness in your own voice.
Leah stepped closer, her gaze flicking to your lips. Her hand gently brushed away a loose strand of hair from your face, her touch sending a shiver down your spine. She leaned in slowly, her breath fanning over your face, her eyes never leaving yours.
And then, she kissed you. Her lips met yours in a soft, lingering kiss. It was slow and exploratory, a stark contrast to the hurried, passionate kiss from the day before. It felt like Leah was taking her time, savouring every moment, every sensation. You responded eagerly, your hands tangling in her hair as you deepened the kiss. It was a whirlwind of emotions - the warmth of Leah's body against yours, the soft hum of pleasure that escaped from Leah when you pulled her closer.
The world around you seemed to fade into insignificance, the cheering from the match barely a murmur in the background. All you could focus on was Leah, the way her body molded perfectly against yours, the way her lips moved with yours in a tantalizing rhythm.
When you finally pulled away, breathless and flushed, you found Leah watching you with an intensity that sent a thrill through your body.
"That was..." Leah's voice trailed off, her fingers gently tracing your bottom lip.
"Indescribable," you finished, your voice barely above a whisper.
Leah sat back, crossing her arms and studying you with a playful glint in her eyes. "So, Y/N," she began, "is this your usual strategy for wooing footballers?"
You chuckled, shaking your head. "No, usually I stick to a firm handshake and professional questions. You're the exception."
Leah feigned surprise. "Oh, so I'm special?"
You nodded, meeting her teasing gaze with a smile. "Yes, Leah. You're very special."
She grinned, obviously pleased with your answer. "Well, it's nice to know I have that effect on people."
"Only the lucky ones," you retorted, the flirtatious banter continuing to flow.
As the evening wore on, the two of you found more common interests to laugh and chat about, each topic further highlighting the chemistry between you. Leah's teasing questions about your love for football turned into a debate on which team had the best mascot. Your shared love for music sparked an animated discussion about your favorite bands and songs.
As you eventually said goodnight, the echoes of your shared laughter still hung in the air. You both knew you had stumbled upon something special and the anticipation of seeing where it would lead was a thrilling prospect.
Authors note: Hope you enjoyed! :) I already got an idea in mind for part 3.
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autisticlancemcclain · 9 months
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wip tease number god knows, truly
The phone doesn’t ring for more than two seconds. Which is crazy, because New Altea is an unfathomably huge number of lightyears away and also Lance’s phone signal is perpetually garbage.
“Ahoy,” greets Allura when the line connects, because she is strange.
“Ahoy,” Lance greets back, because he loves her.
They sit in silence. He can hear, vaguely, the clicking sounds of compacts being opened and closed, and the particular humming noise she always makes when she’s putting on eyeliner.
It occurs to Lance, for the first time, that they have known each other so long and so closely that to the outsider, their relationship might be quite strange. The thought makes him smile widely.
“So,” he says.
Allura hums again. Deliberately, this time.
Lance takes another long time to answer, digging the toe of his boots into the ground. He spies a worm wiggling in the newly churned dirt and bends down to pluck it, writhing, out of its hovel. He quickly snaps a picture and sends it to Pidge with the caption, ‘didn’t know you were on Earth today.’ She responds with a grotesquely realistic custom clown emoji.
“There is a possibility. Perhaps. That I do not actually want to be a farmer.”
“No shit,” replies the Queen of New Altea And Also Lots Of Other Things Lance Can’t Remember, blithely.
Lance sniffs haughtily. “This is quite the revelation, you know. I’ve had four panic attacks about it.”
“You have an anxiety disorder. You had a panic attack about malevolent gut bacteria last week.”
“…This is true.”
“Also, whenever I feel you need to be humbled, I ask your mother to send me stuff from your childhood. There’s a video in particular I enjoy of you sobbing about the prospect of being anything but an astronaut. You looked at a cornfield and threw up. You were four, I believe.”
Lance does, actually, vaguely remember that. Well, he remembers Luis writhing on the floor, weeping with laughter, and kicking him in the shins. He also remembers the cornfield, if only because he distinctly remembers lobbing a piece of corn at Luis’ head, also.
He was a very expressive child. Also, Luis is a turd.
“I am entitled to a period of self-reflection,” Lance says primly.
“It has been an Entire Year, knobhead.”
“I needed time to collect my thoughts in peace and on Earth. I died, you know.”
“Oh, did you,” says Allura drily. “I wonder how that went.”
Lance’s smile widens. He lets her have this one. “Fuck farming, okay. I’m bored. I love my family to pieces but I need to be closer to drama. Give me a job.”
“That is a garbage application, Leandro.” He hears the distinct sound of a nail polish bottle being shaken. “I should hire someone more qualified.”
“How about you hire deez nuts.”
“Hm,” she says, and he can hear her grinning. “On the other hand, I need a second in command who is unafraid to challenge me. You know, in case I grow corrupt with power.”
She pretends to deliberate for a moment.
“You’re hired. I’ll send someone to come pick you up tomorrow.”
“Is that someone going to be a hot, tall Altean in a slutty outfit?” Lance asks hopefully.
She can’t help a laugh. Lance grins triumphantly. “You’re fired.”
“Is that a yes?”
“I’ll think about it.”
She hangs up.
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1-800-cr33py · 30 days
Text
Sedatives CHPT.2
A/N: Here bc crossposting my beloved
Blaring alarm and sunlight slipping through your blinds awoke you from what you’d considered a good sleep. Friday, the day you’d longed for for months it seemed, not because there’d be shitty slashers on a seemingly endless marathon due to it being the month of October, though that was a plus; but no, it was finally your day off. A day all to yourself and a night to hand out candy to doe-eyed children in differing costumes. Groggily sliding out of bed was a task, though your feet planting themselves onto your cold floor was more than a wake-up call. Your quarters were homey, and cozy. More than enough space for you and your cat, Cilantro. Speaking of the greedy feline, who mewed her greetings as she weaved between your legs as you made your way to the bathroom.
“You can wait Lantro, not like you’re gonna starve any time soon. “You yawned, stretching your arms as your back cracked. The cat, however, didn’t seem to agree with your sentiments in the slightest as she mewed louder, seemingly in response to you. You closed the door in the thing’s face in return. Your morning was everything but eventful, though watching your neighbor’s children chase each other around their yard with dollar store skeletons and spiders, which left a smile tugging at the corner of your lips, sipping on your morning brew with a content glaze within your eyes. Though boredom was beginning to seep through that feeling. Your laundry had been put on, dishes had been washed and put away, and just overall tidying had all been done within the span of a few hours. What now? You hadn’t planned this far ahead, not like medical school and internships gave you time to establish any friendships, and a relationship was the last thing on your mind. Besides, the scum that you worked aside left such a stain on your mind when it came to potential partners. Nurses, smoking and degrading the patients within the yellowing walls gave you looks of contempt and the doctor’s hands planted themselves onto your skin for a good many moments too long. Yeah…so no relationship prospects in sight for you. Catnapping and folding laundry made up most of your day, finding the hours slip through your fingers like fine sand. The dulling sky held many stars, blinking into the blanket of dusty oranges and desaturated blues. You, still donning a simple jumper and pajama pants you're sure you’d stolen from some childhood friend you’d long forgotten in your adult life, pity. Trekking towards the door, donning a thick knitted blanket and Cilantro in tow, you made your way to your rocking chair, an antique thing that could use a paint job, but you didn’t mind. Propping yourself upon the old chair, the wood creaking beneath you, sighed, watching your breath cling to the air. Though despite your day of relaxation, you still carried a weight on your shoulders. “Fucking hell…” you groaned, head thrown back with a displeased expression.
Night lurked within your walls, a heavy silence bearing over your domain as you tossed and turned, comfort fleeting from you, and time ticked by one second at a time. Poor sight you were, desperate for sleep to claim you, for relief to wash over you in a cool wave. You, sweaty and annoyed, threw your comforter away, allowing the cool air of your tiny room to chill your skin, a shitty fan doing little to aid. Thoughts floating back to your job, the patients, the assholes who worked your nerves to no end…Michael. Your breath hitched as you began to think the patient over. How the veins in his hands flexed as he steadily layered paper and glued to form a face. How his eyes followed doctors and nurses, in a way you could only be akin to a predator stalking its prey. Intense. Calculating. Your fingers buried themselves in your soaked hole, your moans echoing off the walls as you brought yourself to the edge. Your back arched as your vision whitened, whimpers rolling out of your throat, riding out your height. It was easy to imagine it was Michael bringing you past this edge; how easy it was to imagine it was his rough fingers dragging down your body, toying with your clit. Attempting to steady your shaking breaths and legs was no easy feat. You stared at the ceiling, sweat clinging to your body as the thoughts of Michael dissipated, the reality of just how taboo this was finally setting in. He was your patient not your patient, but still! A sigh escaped your lips as you rolled onto your side with a wince, your muscles aching as you attempted to find some escape from your sleep.
October 29
Your uniform felt tight, almost suffocating as you placed the small plastic cups of pills in front of patients. You felt pity for them, abandoned and left to rot within the confines of the state, drugged up to a compliant lucid state. Their blank, watery eyes left you feeling hollow every time you turned your back on them after administrating their daily medication alongside the mush the penitentiary called food. It was fucking sick how they treated these mentally unwell people that needed help above all else.
But today, today was different.
Today you felt watched, more than usual. One could akin this to the feelings prey has before the predator strikes, but who was your predator? You shook your head, instinctively wiping your hands upon your dark scrubs, a nervous smile tugging at the corner of your lips as you approached the behemoth of a man that you’ve affectionately dubbed your ‘favorite patient’.
Michael Myers was quiet, always. His face was always covered with a mask, if not the mop of messy blondish hair. Despite his silence, you found it rather easy to read him, perhaps it was due to the fair amount of time you’d spent tailing after Dr. Loomis, half-heartedly acknowledging his rambles about Michael that you didn’t believe. It was odd, you, a mere 2 years younger than he was, and two completely different people. Sometimes, between shifts or hiding with the smokers out back, you’d think about what life for Michael would’ve been like if life had been kinder, softer. A childhood filled with joy, love, and comfort is what every child deserves in your mind. You don’t think Michael was born a monster, but one born of circumstance. Squeaky cartwheels echo throughout this part of the rec room. Patients and staff alike avoided the very space Michael inhabited, for fear of becoming victims of the Boogeyman of Haddonfield. You, however, were either stupid or brave, and right now you didn’t quite know which one was worse. Michael sat slump, his head hanging low, though you could see his neck jerk in your direction as you approached. “Morning, Michael! “You chirped, gently sliding the plastic cup of assorted medicine to the man. He was quiet, eyes flicking to you for just a moment before slowly reaching for his dailies. You faced the wall as he downed them. You began to wonder what his face looked like; you’d seen his face in files. When he was a boy, his cheeks were rosy, and round, and his eyes still clung to some semblance of childhood innocence. You tried to picture him grown. Perhaps his face was made of nothing of right angles, maybe he looked like his mother? Questions ran through your head as Michael placed the cup down. It made you want to gag knowing he always downed his dailies without water, and it wasn’t for a lack of trying. Water was readily available. Ever the gentle creature you were, Michael watched as you sat across from him, folding your hands in your lap. You tried not to stare, honestly you didn’t, but there was something about him that made you just want to...stare. His hands were large and calloused from the years of nimble working of paper machete masks that donned his cell walls. It was the same hands that killed his sister at the age of 10. The same hands you’d fantasied about the night before.
He remained stoic, eyes finally meeting your face. It felt as if he was searching for something, a hint of malice or pity. He’d find none within your feature, nothing more than a genuine want to know something about him. Michael found you pretty enough, kinder than the nurses and doctors and specialists that buzzed around him like an annoying fly, poking and prodding with annoying tests and needles and a constantly changing dose of medicine that left him feeling ill. You, however, never buzzed. You may have lingered a tad bit longer than was necessary, but it was never in a pestering way. He’d notice how your hands toyed with the hem of your scrubs. They were always dark in color, but never stark black. Muted maroons and soft navies were your usual attire, something Michael found himself fond of.
You were simple. Not easy but you stuck to a schedule.
Michael liked that about you. He almost found himself longing to touch you, to feel you as you rose and walked away. A heavy metal door slammed behind you. It was decided in his mind then and there that you were his. The Boogeyman of Haddonfield wanted you for himself.
October 30
Smith’s Grove had befallen silent for the night, strangely enough. Everyone seemed tense, on edge as every little creak and crack was greeted with a jump. How odd people acted, you thought, making mental notes on what you needed to do before clocking out. It was already a quarter till 4 PM, and the ending of your shift never made you as happy as it is now. You practically skipped through the halls, ready to finally leave Michael with his usual goodbye before your departure. His cell neared, and the heavy scent of wet paper and Elmer’s glue lingered the closer you got.
You knocked, knuckles brushing against the reinforced doors as you entered the cell. Masks hung from the walls like hunting trophies, and one could only wonder how Michael found the creativity to even create such pretty things within his conditions. You’d hum, continuing to eye the brightly colored masks with your arms folded across your chest. You knew not to touch them; it was basic respect after all. Your constant lingering seemed to pay off though, as you nearly squealed when Michael offered a quiet ‘mmh’ in greeting. Sure, it may not seem like something much, but anyone who worked with the behemoth of a man would tell you, that Michael Myers does NOT do anything except eat, sleep, and make those masks; but with you, it was like he was a different entity all together. He was calmer, in your easy. The weight that he clung to within his shoulders seemed to lessen. You both sat quietly, content in each other's company. It was when your watch chimed that Michael stiffened, breathing heavily through his nose whilst you rose, offering a weak smile as you trekked towards the door, promising you’d see him tomorrow, you promised!
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ayyyez · 2 years
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For whichever Naruto characters you'll get inspiration for: how do they think they would do babysitting vs how they actually do. Who'd be overconfident and fail miserably? Who would avoid it at all cost but turn out amazing? Who is bad with kids and knows it? Who'd be a supernanny?
A/N: oh yeah, sure thing my friend! These were fun to do. Thanks for sending in a request!
TAGS: babysitting headcanons, fluff, soft headcanons, hehes, gremlin Madara
CHARACTERS: Neji Hyuga, Shisui Uchiha, Shikamaru Nara, Madara Uchiha, Tobirama Senju
NEJI HYUGA: Okay so genin Neji would not be thrilled at the prospect of babysitting. He'd also be a little cocky thinking he'd have no problem wrangling a bunch of kids. He underestimates these trouble makers however and has a woeful time dealing with their "backtalking" and "incessant questioning of authority." That's him— he's the authority. Neji sweetie they're kids. Won't lose them though with his Byakugan and kind of scares them into behaving with his demeanour.
Teen/Adult (Jonin) Neji now is a lot more mellow and less harsh. He's going to be a lot softer and understanding. Is actually less confident with the task but does a lot better. Bends down to the kids level to talk to them. Treats them the same way he does adults in the way he talks to them but his tone his gentler. Is patient with their questions. Reads to them. Teaches them life lessons.
Don't tell anyone but he gives them piggybacks.
SHISUI UCHIHA: The best damn babysitter you could ask for and he knows it too. If you tell him though he'll get all bashful about it. He's so good with kids! Talks and plays with them like he is one. Being around kids helps him reset and forget his troubles. He can't help but want to protect them and their childhoods. Because of this just wants to show them the best time.
Kind of sneaky about the games he teaches. The games teach them strategy and how to think on their feet. Real world shinobi skills to help them learn how to hide and escape if they ever need it. Shisui also picks the littler kids up and zooms them around. Piggyback rides and races. Rolling down hills. Lots of laughter and fun.
Always letting the kids win and encouraging them when he can.
SHIKAMARU NARA: Doesn't matter when this is Shikamaru's always going to think it's going to be a drag babysitting. He's going to look for the easiest way to mind these kids. Think smarter not harder is his motto. Doesn't think he'll do a terrible job nor exceed expectations. He's there to tick a box. What he doesn't expect is to be kept amused by the kids. Having back and forth banter. The kids telling him "jokes" and stories.
Ha. So maybe babysitting isn't so bad. The kind of babysitter who is like 'Alright, I'll give you some treats if you don't tell your parents.' Totally has a secret pact with the kids. Teaches them all sorts of cool things. As long as they don't have to go anywhere or do anything too annoying.
The kind of babysitter the kids think are cool.
MADARA UCHIHA: Do not let this man babysit your kids. He's a terrible influence (affectionate). I don't mean big bad Madara either I just mean regular gremlin Madara. He's going to have your kids running wild and promoting their chaos. He has a complex where he both thinks he's the best babysitter in the world and thinks he's also going to fail big time.
Okay in all seriousness though he's good for kids who have a lot of energy and need to run around. He'll match their energy and do what they need to do to get all of that out. Won't bring any negativity to the table either. Just encourages them to go go go. And is behind them the entire time. Doesn't care about the mess either. Those kids want to roll around in mud? Alright mud fight it is. It's war baby. Takes those wargames very seriously. The kids call him sir and everything lol.
He encourages chaos in order to keep that watchful eye on them. He actually does an alright job.
TOBIRAMA SENJU: Great teacher. Terrible babysitter. Terrible with teensy children. Good with school level children in a teaching environment. But he just can't babysit. He's so bad with children that aren't his own or his students. He's just so awkward. You know how people hold toddlers like they're wild creatures with their arms completely stretched out in front of them? That's him holding them.
Everything becomes lectures when he talks to them and he's so theoretical and awkward at connecting and knows it. He honestly chooses to just not babysit.
I want to point out though he is really good at teaching children when they're his students. When they're old enough to somewhat take care of themselves and he just has to teach them the rest and theres time to make a connection—he can't explain it—it's just different. Like tweens he's good with tweens. Genuinely enjoys seeing the next generations flourish he just doesn't have those babysitting skills.
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Quiet My Fears (With The Touch Of Your Hand) Ch. 3
Steve Harrington x f!reader
Description: Dramatic reveals are revealed, dramatically (or, you and Steve tell the gang about Baby Harrington and it does not go well).
Warnings: language, food mentions, everyone is angry all of the time
Word Count: 7965
Previous Chapter! - Next Chapter!
My Masterlist! - Series Masterlist!
Notes: I'm so sorry this took as long as it did! I've been going through it lately but through the power of boygenius I was actually able to finish this bit the other day! Please enjoy and also no one is allowed to be mad at me lol
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Steve Harrington was going to be a dad.
The funny thing that came along with that was that Steve was actually going to have to tell people.
He imagined that there were many couples who would be very excited about this prospect. There were lots of young men out there who had mothers begging them for grandchildren. His hadn’t quite gotten there yet.
You had told him that you wanted to put off telling people for as long as you could. He entirely understood why; times had changed quite a bit since his mother’s day, but still, being an unwed mother in Smalltown, USA was relatively frowned upon. Honestly, considering just how gossipy the population of Hawkins tended to be, Steve was surprised the front desk ladies at your doctor’s office hadn’t already spread the news like wildfire, HIPAA be damned; golden boy Steve Harrington and his childhood best friend, having a baby out of wedlock? That was some front page stuff, right there. 
Married or not, though, it was going to have to happen sooner rather than later. In a few weeks time, it was going to start getting very difficult to hide. You were going to begin showing any moment now, and as Spring started to settle in, it brought its warmer temperatures with it. You could only hide behind your winter coat and thick sweaters for so long. 
And not just your bump; your friends were beginning to pick up on the fact that there was something going on.
“Steve!” Robin barked before tossing a wadded up ball of old receipts at him. It hit him square between the eyebrows. “Stop moping and do your job, please?”
“I’m not moping,” Steve defended (he absolutely was), before turning back to the pile of returns he was supposed to be sorting through.
“Fuck off, yeah you are,” Eddie very helpfully added.
“See, this is why I don’t like it when you hang around here,” Steve said, pointing a pen toward Eddie. “You two always gang up on me!”
“Why do you think I’m here at all?” Eddie quipped back with a smirk. 
“Because you don’t have anywhere better to go?” Robin supplied.
“That, too.”
“Either way, I’m not moping,” Steve assured. “I’m fine.”
“That’s a fucking lie if I’ve ever heard one,” Eddie said over the click of the markdown gun, as he emptied its bright orange stickers down that back of his arm. Steve couldn’t help but notice that he had set the price to ‘WAS $4.20, NOW $0.69’.
“Stop that,” Robin huffed as she whipped the tool out of Eddie’s hands. “Steve, I can practically see the rain cloud floating over your head.”
“Oh, my god!” Steve didn’t really want to snap at his friends, but he did it anyway. “Nothing is wrong! I am fine, everything is fine!”
Eddie and Robin just stared at Steve like a pair of deer in headlights from across the counter. They both knew how easily frustrated Steve could become, and they’d be the first to admit that sometimes they can poke at him a bit too hard, but an outburst this quickly had been unexpected. Neither said anything, and Steve just sighed.
After a moment of awkward silence, Eddie spoke up once again. 
“Lady problems?”
“Get out!” both Steve and Robin exclaimed, in unison.
“I thought you guys liked me.” Eddie feigned offense.
“You do not work here!” Robin said as she grabbed onto his shoulders and shoved him toward the door. “And Keith’ll get pissed if he finds out you were here and didn’t spend any money, so go home.”
“Fine,” Eddie relented from the entryway. “Hey, I’ll see you guys on Saturday, right?”
“Of course!”
“Probably not.”
“You claim nothing is wrong,” Eddie said, pointing to Steve. “And yet, in the same breath, turn down free beer?”
“Leave!”
“I love you both!”
The bell above the door rang as Eddie walked out, and Steve was left in Robin’s concerned gaze. 
“Y’know, Eddie does kind of have a point,” Robin said after a moment. Nine times out of ten, Robin was able to coax Steve out of his quiet and get him to talk about whatever it was that was eating at him, a fact that Steve was highly aware of. 
“No, he doesn’t,” Steve barked back. If this conversation didn’t end in the next two minutes, he would jump off the roof. 
“You haven’t hung out with any of us in weeks!” Robin exclaimed “Weeks, Steve!”
“I’ve been busy,” Steve lied.
“Busy with what?” she inquired. “Do you have another job I don’t know about, or something?”
“I’m allowed to do things without you around. You know that, right?” It was meaner than he needed to be.
“Oh, god, this isn’t about your lover, is it?” Robin drawled with a scowl.
“You know her name, and you don’t have to say it like that,” Steve responded.
“You two got back together, didn’t you?”
She hadn’t quite gotten it head on, but it was probably as close as she was going to get.
“I knew it!” Robin looked like she was going to explode. “I fucking knew it!”
“Please don’t turn this into a thing,” Steve pleaded.
“Me turn it into a thing?!” She was mad now. “You two are the ones turning it into a thing! You cannot keep sneaking around like this, it cannot possibly be healthy!”
“We’re-” Steve huffed out a breath. This tightrope he was walking across seemed to be growing more and more thin. “Working on it.”
“Can you work on it a little bit faster, please?” Robin asked as she punched out. “You two are so fucking weird about each other. Split, or make it official, just do something, because I hate having to keep this secret for you, it’s exhausting!”
“We sort of already did. I think,” Steve confided. Partial truth is better than no truth, right?
“Split?”
“Make it official.”
“Oh, thank god,” Robin sighed, tossing herself across the counter, all dramatics. “I can finally quit having to cover for you.”
“Don’t say anything yet.” Steve was quick with his damage control. “We, uh, we wanna do it. Ourselves. Figure it’ll probably go over a little bit smoother that way, y’know?”
“Fine, but if you don’t tell everyone soon, I’m going to,” Robin said. “Don’t think I’m the only one who’s noticed something off with you lately.”
“What? What does that mean?”
“Everyone is worried about you, Steve,  it’s not just me,” she explained. “Dustin was about two seconds away from showing up at your house after you bailed on us last week.”
Steve didn’t know that. It sent a lightning bolt of regret through his chest.
“The faster you two can get your shit together, the better. I’ve been happily cleaning up this mess for you, but I’m starting to get fucking tired of it, Steve.” Robin looked at her watch. “I was off ten minutes ago.”
She was out the door before Steve could even think up an apology.
Steve and Robin didn’t get into fights often, but he absolutely hated it every time they did. Even silly little arguments left him wracked with guilt sometimes, but proper, go-for-the-throat type fights made feel sick. 
Pair that with the fact that he was making Dustin worry, and Steve felt about ready to hurl. 
God, this was difficult. Stupidly difficult. Maybe, if he asked nicely, you’d agree to just run away with him so he didn’t have to deal with any of it. 
If he could just pluck up the courage to tell his parents, that would at least be a start. They were the difficult ones, the conversation he was dreading more than any of them, and the wild anxiety ate away at him for the rest of his shift. By the time seven o’clock rolled around and he was finally able to go home, it was entirely all-encompassing.
Fuck it. It had to get done either way, right?
The drive from Family Video to his parents house, no longer than ten minutes, felt as though it stretched across half an eternity. The vicious anxiety ate away at his stomach as he drove, and with each turn, each mile crossed, it only increased. Maybe he should just turn around. Maybe he should go home to you, and his parents could just figure it out on their own. He was sure his dad would love that.
Steve pulled into the driveway and was very close to losing what little nerve he had. He turned off the ignition, this is a bad idea. He got out of the car, this is a bad idea. He walked up to the front door and let himself in, this is a bad idea.  
He could hear the commotion of his mother making dinner in the kitchen. Something was sizzling; popping and crackling with the smell of onions and garlic, of bell peppers and roasting meat. 
Steve had lots of reasons to be jealous of other peoples’ parents, but at least his knew how to cook.
“Steve!” his mother exclaimed once he walked into her view. One hand was occupied by a wooden spoon stirring a pan of vegetables, the other holding a frosty glass of white wine. “I didn’t know whether or not to expect you.”
“You barely even live here anymore,” his father chided from where he was sitting at the counter. His suit coat was off and he had a matching wine glass sitting on the table in front of him. Nine times out of ten, Steve’s parents were able to be amicable with one another. At this point, they acted more like roommates than husband and wife, but at least they were roommates that were able to stand being in the same room as one another. Usually. “Didn’t think I’d get to see you before I left.”
“Sit down! Have a drink,” his mother insisted. She pulled another wine glass out of the cabinet and the bottle out of the fridge. 
“Oh, no, I’m alright,” Steve said as he sat down. His mother poured him the glass anyway.
He was about to ruin a perfectly good dinner, Steve thought to himself. His mother probably poured over it all day. The roast that just got pulled out of the oven was probably expensive. 
“So, what’s been going on with Steve these days?” his father asked him. 
Now or never.
“I actually wanted to, uh,” Steve stuttered out. “I wanted to talk to you guys.”
“You didn’t crash your car, did you?” his father said, only half joking.
“No, the car’s fine.”
“Is this about that girl?” his mother asked as she turned the stove down to low, mischief painting her voice.
“Girl? What girl?” His father pointed his gaze over to Meredith. 
“He met a girl,” she responded. She seemed almost giddy with excitement.
“Finally,” his father said. He said it like it was a joke, though it didn’t feel all that well meaning to Steve. 
“Oh, tell me it’s Giada’s daughter from down the street,” his mother said. “Have you seen their kitchen? I’d never have to host another Thanksgiving ever again.”
“No, it’s not- no.” Steve wasn’t even sure he knew who Giada was, let alone her daughter. 
“Well, at least give us a name, Steve,” his mother said. “Is she cute?”
When Steve said your name, he felt almost like he was condemning you. Like just uttering it strapped you to him, so now you’d both be falling from grace. 
“The one who grew up across the street?” his father asked, as if you hadn’t known him your whole life.
“Oh, that’s just too sweet!,” his mother exclaimed. “It’s like a movie, ugh! I’ll have to give her mother a call, she’s going to be thrilled!”
Good luck with that, Steve thought to himself. She won’t even answer the calls from her own daughter.  
“Took you long enough,” his father said, leaning back in his barstool, lackadaisical. 
“What?” Steve responded. He was wildly unimpressed by his father’s haughty attitude.
“You two have been making googly eyes at each other since you were eight,” he explained. “Frankly, I didn’t think you had the balls to do anything about it.”
“Ron,” his mother chastised at the choice of words.
“What? Obviously, I was wrong.” Ron pointed his gaze back to his son. “Y’know, I think she could be a good influence on you. Steady job, good work ethic. She’s a bit of an oddball, though, but I guess with a father like her’s, could you really blame her?”
Leave it to Ronald Harrington to judge other peoples’ parenting skills while simultaneously insulting his son’s girlfriend. 
“Don’t be rude,” Meredith said. Her back was now turned to the two men, arms elbow deep in the sink. “Such a shame her parents moved away, though. I couldn’t imagine going that far without bringing your daughter with you. Is she still living on the south side?”
“Yep.”
“That’s not the safest area in town,” she commented. “Did you hear about that house fire down that way? The woman on the news said that it might have been arson. Arson!” 
“It’s alright,” he placated. “Not as bad as it used to be, at least.” 
“I still don’t know if I like the idea of a girl like her living all by herself in an area like that,” she said. 
“You’ll have to invite her over for dinner once I get back,” his father said, entirely oblivious to the topic of conversation between his wife and son.
There was a moment of silence between the three of them. His mom took a sip of her wine and stuck the meat with a cooking thermometer, his dad refilled his own glass, and Steve felt his stomach do a backflip. This was going poorly.
“If there’s something else you have to tell us, you might as well just rip the bandaid off quick.” His father hit the nail on the head, that was for sure. He paused for a moment before making the kind of poorly timed, borderline insulting joke only someone like his father could. 
“God, she’s not pregnant, is she?”
Steve went rigid, and he kept his gaze trained on the swirls in the marble countertop. He didn’t say anything, he couldn’t bring himself to, so he just left his parents to piece his silence together on their own.
“Steve,” his mother demanded. She had a carving fork gripped tight in her white knuckled fist, planted hard against the edge of the countertop. Steve was pretty sure she was about to stab him with it. He couldn’t look either of them in the eye.
“I’m sorry,” he managed to squeak out. He could feel tears beginning to well up in his eyes. 
“Goddamn it, Steven!” his father exclaimed, slamming his hand onto the counter. It made the glasses rattle. “This has to be some kind of joke!”
“I’m sorry!” Steve said, louder this time. “Fuck, I didn’t-”
“Didn’t what?” his father asked. “You didn’t mean to? You didn’t think it would actually happen?”
“I don’t know,” Steve responded. He suddenly felt very small, confronted by his father’s booming voice.
His mother stood silent in her spot on the opposite side of the kitchen island, but there were definitely tears running down her cheeks, and anger radiating off of her in horrible waves that Steve wasn’t used to. 
“No, you don’t, because you weren’t thinking at all, were you?” His father fumed. He was standing now, towering over Steve despite the fact that the two of them were almost the same in height. “For Christ’s sake, Steven!”
“I’m sorry.”
“You’ll have to marry her-”
“We already talked about that. She said she wants to wait,” Steve explained quickly.
“No. No, this is not a question of want, Steven. I don’t care about what you want, you’ve forfeited that right! You both have!” his father spat back. 
“I’m not gonna force her to marry me against her will, dad, I’m not evil!” He shouldn’t have said it that way, he knew that. But god, he was mad, and a low blow like that was just as satisfying as he thought it would be. 
At least this hadn’t happened when he was 16. He would have been well and truly fucked if this had happened when he was 16. 
“You know what? Maybe this is just the thing you need,” his father snapped.
“What?” Steve asked, confused.
“A big mistake for you to finally learn a thing or two.”
Steve wasn’t particularly fond of his father’s use of the word ‘mistake’.
“I leave for Santa Monica tomorrow morning. I’ll be back in a week,” his father stated. “I want you out of my house before then.”
“Ronald,” Meredith broke her silence, exclaiming from behind the tears. Steve knew she wouldn’t explode the way his father was doing, but she really looked like she wanted to.
“No! We have been defending him and making excuses for years, Meredith. Years! If he wants to go play house with his little girlfriend, that’s fine by me, but he’s not gonna do it under my roof.” He doubled down and turned his gaze back to where Steve was sitting. “I think it's a damn good time for him to learn that his actions come with consequences.”
The older man turned away at that and pulled his keys off of the hook on the wall.
“Where are you going?” Meredith called after him. He didn’t bother with an answer, only walked out and slammed the door behind him. 
Steve was left alone with his mother, which was simultaneously much better and far worse. 
“We were already planning for me to move in with her,” Steve said. If his father had stuck around for a minute longer, he would have been able to explain that to him, too. “She needed a roommate anyway.”
His mother scoffed and shook her head.
“Look, I know that-”
“You make it incredibly difficult for me to be on your side sometimes, Steven,” his mother interrupted.
“I know,” Steve agreed. He did know. 
“I wish I could say that I thought your father was being irrational, but I don’t know if I can,” she sighed. “For once, I think he and I might be on the same page.”
“You are?” Steve asked. His father’s vitriolic anger hadn’t come as a surprise, he’d been expecting it, but he thought his mother would be at least a little bit understanding. She always had been before. Steve guessed that this was different, though. 
“You’re not going to be able to live in that apartment forever, Steven,” she said.
“I know that.”
“And you’ll definitely need a better job. I highly doubt your father’s previous offer still stands, by the way.”
“I know.”
“Do you?” she asked him. Her voice had a bite to it that he had never been on the receiving end of before. “You’ve been saying ‘I know’ for years now, Steve. You know you need to grow up, you know you’ll have to move out someday, you know you have to do something with your life, yet you have never made any actual effort to do anything about it!”
“Mom, that’s not true-”
“If you want to start making big, adult choices like this, you’re going to have to start acting like one. Clearly, you’re not a child anymore.” 
His mother untied her apron and tossed it onto the counter before leaving the kitchen, heels clicking on the tile.
Steve’s whole family had been waiting for that thing; that final, fatal event that would break the Hawkins Harringtons for good. Aunts, uncles, cousins, all piecing together whatever bits of gossip they could, knew that the string that tied Steve to his parents was being pulled thinner and thinner and thinner. His mother could only do so much mending for him, and everyone had spent the last few years waiting with bated breath for that string to snap, for Steve to lose his footing. Once it did, he would plummet.
Steve was now standing alone in his childhood home, scissors in hand. 
Steve didn’t know what to do, so he stood up and turned off the stove. He pulled out a tupperware container and boxed up the vegetables. He wrapped the meat in foil and left it out on the counter, because it needed to cool before it could be put away, or else it would screw with the temperature inside the refrigerator. He found a stopper and closed the bottle of wine, placing it in the fridge before gathering the three glasses. His was still full, and he wanted to chug it, but thought better of it and poured it down the drain. He cleaned all of the dishes, dried them, and put them away. He turned off the oven, and wiped down all of the countertops, and neatly hung the towel to dry. He turned off the lights, making sure to leave the one above the stove on as a nightlight. 
Truly, there wasn’t much left of his personal belongings that he really cared about that he hadn’t already taken to your apartment. Most of what he needed was already there. He could grab the rest of it when his mother wasn’t home; the rest of his clothes, important documents, that kind of thing. What all do you even need to bring with you when you're being forced out of your childhood home, anyway? 
Later. This was something he could deal with later.
So he left. Unsurprisingly, his father’s car was nowhere to be seen. He wanted to keep talking to his mom, to explain himself, to apologize, to say anything, but he knew it would just make it worse than it already was, so he just got into his car and pulled away instead.
He did need a better job. He’d been needing a better job for a while now, actually, but he definitely needed a better job now. And his mother was right, there was no way he would be able to work for his dad after that. 
He wished he was able to explain to his parents that hey, funny story, due to atrocities he won’t be explaining right now, the government actually gave him a frankly absurd amount of money a few years ago, and he’d be alright for a while. It wouldn’t last forever, but it was enough to keep the pair of you afloat, especially with yours, too. You had used a bit of it on rent right after your parents had left, but Steve’s money sat mostly untouched in a bank account his family didn’t know he had. 
See, the thing about government hush money is that you can’t just go out and spend it on something wild, because then people are going to ask where it came from. Believe him, if he had been able to go out and buy some fancy sports car or a bunch of designer clothes, he would have. His father would have told him to buy a nice watch and invest the rest of it (Steve wasn’t entirely sure what that actually meant, or how to even go about doing it). He was just grateful to have it right now.
He could put a down payment on a house for you and him. That seemed like something a responsible adult would do with it, right?
Steve pulled up to your building and was shocked with how well he’d held it together up until this point, because he felt like he was going to explode. When he got to your floor and walked into your apartment, you were sitting on the floor between the sofa and the coffee table, textbooks and paper spread before you. The sound of him walking in pulled you away from your schoolwork and when you turned to look at Steve, you were clearly upset.
“You told me you were off more than an hour ago!” you said as you wiggled out from behind the table and stood up. “I was starting to get really worried, Steve, where were you?”
“I, uhm,” Steve started. He felt his voice crack, the sting of tears beginning to well in his eyes. He had to keep his shit together, for your sake.
“Did something happen?” you asked him. You brought your hands up to the sides of his face, and there went any chance of him keeping it together. 
“I told my parents,” he confessed. He was not going to cry in front of you. He wasn’t.
“What?” you questioned. You sounded a little bit hurt that he did it without asking you, but mostly just horribly concerned. “I thought we agreed to wait.”
“We did, but it was eating away at me, and I just couldn’t sit on it anymore, and-” The floodgates broke and Steve’s words were cut off by a strained sob. 
“Oh, Stevie.” You pulled him into a hug and Steve wanted nothing more than for these stupid tears to just dry up, but it felt like weeks and weeks of pent up worry and fear were being pulled to the surface, and he didn’t have it in him to try and stop any of it. He was supposed to be the strong one for you, but Jesus Christ, that was difficult. “It was bad?”
“Well, they kicked me out,” Steve said.
“What?”
“Which, I mean, my dad’s right. I barely even live there anymore, so I guess it doesn’t really even matter,” he rambled out, wiping his nose on his sleeve like a child.
“Yes, it does,” you assured him.
“And I’m pretty sure that this is my mother's worst nightmare, so I don’t know why I didn’t expect her to be pissed.”
“I’m sorry,” you said. You pulled Steve towards the couch and carefully lowered onto the cushions, your grasp on his wrists bringing him down to your side. 
“And Robin and I got into a fight, too.”
“You didn’t tell her, did you?” you questioned.
“No, but I think if I don’t do it soon, she might disown me,” he admits. 
“She’s not going to disown you,” you protested. “She’d never do that.”
“My parents just did,” Steve lamented. “My mother just did. Who’s to say Robin isn’t next, huh?”
Steve would never, ever be able to make his father proud, because his father would never, ever let him even get close. He had known that for a long time, and maybe there was a part of him that was relieved by that. He knew that it was an entirely unattainable goal, so he never really bothered to reach for it. His mother, oh so cruelly, always made sure Steve knew that he could do great things. Why did she have to go and do that? Steve knew his mother held him to a high bar, he just hadn’t ever considered the possibility that he wouldn’t be able to jump high enough.
So maybe that’s why it hurt so badly when you curled into him that night when he finally crawled into bed. Maybe that’s why he called into work the next day, even though he knew it would probably make Robin totally freak out. Maybe that’s why he waited until he saw his mother’s car leave the driveway before going into his - what used to be his- house to box up the last of his things.
Maybe that’s why he missed the Hawkins Police Department truck parked outside of your apartment building when he was bringing groceries inside a handful of days later. 
“I’m back!” he called into your apartment after releasing the wildly heavy grocery bags onto the kitchen counter. Making more than one trip is for suckers. “They didn’t have any pineapple juice, so I just got a pineapple, figured it can’t be too hard to just-”
Steve cut himself off when he looked up from the paper bags to see more than just you sitting in the living room; Joyce was sitting on your left with an arm wrapped protectively over your shoulders, Robin on your right with her legs pulled up underneath her and a tissue box in her lap, and Hopper was propped up on the arm of the couch. You were in the middle of the array, in tears. 
“Hello,” Steve nervously greeted, eyes wide as frisbees and blood running cold.
There was absolutely no universe in which this went well.
Robin’s expression, which had clearly been soft and sympathetic before Steve had interrupted them, quickly changed into anger. She shot up from the couch, earning her a disapproving tut from Joyce and making you wince away from her. It took her three wide stomps to cross the small space and grab onto Steve’s wrist with more strength than he knew she had in her.
“Ow, Robin!” Steve complained as she dragged him out into the hallway. She slammed the door hard behind her and it made Steve jump.
“What the fuck, Steve!” she demanded.
“Robin-”
“I mean, seriously, what the fuck!” Steve could already hear the noise complaints from the neighbors as she chastised him. “You lied to me!”
“I-” didn’t, is what he wanted to say, but he knew better than that. “I’m sorry.”
“How long have you two been back together then?” she questioned. Steve really didn’t want to admit it. “How long?”
“Six months,” he replied, sheepishly.
“Six months?!” Robin shrieked in disbelief. “Jesus Christ, you really did lie to me!”
“Robin,” Steve said, hushed and ashamed and really fucking mad at himself.
“For half a year! You lied to me for half a year!”
“I’m sorry!”
“She had to turn down her job offer from the school,” Robin barked. 
“I know that.”
“The job that she’s been talking about for, oh I don’t know, six months? Probably more than that, actually!”
“I know, Robin, alright?” Steve assured her and crossed his arms across his chest. “You think I don’t? I am highly aware of that!”
“And, I’m sorry, but you’re far from the King of Responsibility!” Robin said. 
“What does that mean?!” Steve questioned, a tint of frustration layered over his words. 
“I’m just saying, you aren’t exactly known for your maturity,” she spat.
“You think we wouldn’t be able to take care of-”
“She can. I know she can.  She’s more than capable of doing whatever the hell she puts her mind to, but you?” Anger and resentment dripped from her mouth with each word. “You, I’m honestly not sure. If you were more willing to lie to my face for six months than you were to just tell me the fucking truth, I’m sorry, but that’s really winning you any responsible adult points, is it?”
Tears pricked behind Steve’s eyes. He wanted to yell, to scream at the top of his lungs that, no, Robin, you’re wrong, I can do this!, but he really wasn’t sure if it was true. If his closest friend, one of the people he trusted most in the whole world, really thought that he wouldn’t be able to do this, then maybe she’s right, right?
The apartment door next to Steve slowly creeped open.
“Everything alright out here?” Hopper asked, carefully planting himself just slightly between Steve and Robin. 
Robin lost her vitriol like a tea kettle after the burner got turned off, leaving her with no more steam to fuel what she needed to say. 
“I’m waiting out in the car,” she muttered as she whizzed past Steve and turned down the stairwell. The two men in the hall listened to her descending footsteps. Once they heard the front door open and slam back shut, Jim broke through the quiet.
“Robin wanted me to check up on you after you called out,” Jim explained. “She was worried you were mad at her, after your fight.”
“Right,” Steve said.
“So, imagine my surprise when your mom answers the door, only to tell me that you don’t live there anymore,” the older man said. “She wouldn’t tell me why, just gave me an address and shut the door.”
“Look, if you’re here to give me another angry dad talk, then you don’t have to bother. Mine did a pretty damn good job all on his own,” Steve asserted. 
“I’m not here to be angry.” Steve could tell that Hopper was choosing his words very, very carefully.
“Oh, that’s unlike you,” Steve commented, arms still crossed and eyes on the floor.
“Don’t be shitty!” Jim snapped. Steve withered.
“Sorry,” he muttered, still not able to look the man in the eyes. Jim just sighed.
“Do you have a plan, Steve?” he asked. 
“Yes. No,” Steve replied. “I don’t know. She seems to have one.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“I’m just not sure if I fit in it,” Steve confessed.
“Oh, Jesus Christ,” Jim huffed. “Maybe you do need another angry dad talk!”
“What do you want me to say?” Steve interrogated. “That everything is under control and totally normal? I have no idea what’s going to happen! None! And, honestly? I’m fucking terrified, Hopper!” 
“Steve-”
“I have to be good at this. I have to! Because I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I’m not, but I am so terrified that I won’t be able to, and I’m going to let her down, and I can’t do that!” It all came out as some sort of paranoia fueled stream of consciousness. “I’d rather die than be anything like my dad, but what if it’s just in my blood? Like, I’m just predestined to turn out just as shitty as him!”
“You definitely won’t,” Jim said, as if it were just a simple fact. “I can assure you, there are very few people on this earth as shitty as your father, and you are not one of them.”
Jim wasn’t overly fond of Ronald Harrington; he was an all-around asshole to most people he met.
“Look, as much as I hate to admit it, you two aren’t kids anymore,” Hop said. “You’re grownups, you two are smart. You can make your own choices. If this is the choice you two wanna make, then make it.”
“You’re making it sound so simple,” Steve snarked.  
“It kind of is,” the chief replied. 
“Really? Because this feels like the least simple thing that’s ever happened to me,” Steve said. “You’re really not mad?”
“Well, I’m not thrilled,” Hopper grumbled. “But, like I said. You two are grownups. You can do whatever the hell you want.”
The pair stood in silence for a moment. Steve knew that Hop was more than likely lying about how mad he was, though he had been preparing himself for Jim to completely lose it on him. He probably would have deserved it. 
“Does it ever get less terrifying?” Steve asked, genuinely wanting to know.
“Nope.”
“That’s reassuring.”
“And it’s not just the fun parts,” Jim added.
“I know,” Steve responded.
“It’s more than just tiny socks and decorating the nursery.”
“I know that.” 
“Just makin’ sure.” Jim was far from happy, but he gave Steve a nod and a pat on the back, which was as close to congratulations as he was going to get. “I know the kids give you a hard time, but you’re smart, and so is she. You two know what you’re doing.”
“Thank you.”
“She’s really, really scared, Steve,” Hopper said. There was something in his voice; a silent question of  ‘do you really know what it is you’re getting yourself into?’
“I know,” Steve replied.
“You don’t get to panic now, alright?” Jim told him. “And you don’t get to change your mind.”
“I won’t. I promise,” Steve said; ‘I do know, and I want all of it.’ “I would never do that to her. Never.”
The pair went back inside, and you seemed to be in slightly better spirits now, even if you still had a sea of tears in your eyes. Both you and Joyce turned to face the two men with questions in your eyes, and Jim’s small nod seemed to be enough of an answer for Joyce to shoot off of the couch to envelop Steve in a tight hug. 
“I have lots of baby things I can bring by for you two,” she gushed after pulling away.
“You don’t have to do that,” you said to her, but she was having none of it.
“Don’t worry about it,” Joyce assured. “It’s all just collecting dust anyway.”
Which left Dustin, who in a lot of ways, Steve was the most worried about. He could take the anger from the grownups. Hell, he could take it from Robin, but Dustin, he was less sure about. 
In true Henderson fashion, he found out about Baby Harrington a few days later, entirely by mistake.
“I still don’t understand why they kicked you out in the first place,” Dustin stated from his spot on the living room floor of your (Steve’s!) apartment. He was digging through a pile of old clothes Steve decided he no longer needed. He had a lot of things, he’d realized while moving in, and he really only wanted a few of them, needed even less. He would donate whatever went unclaimed, but Dustin wanted first dibs for himself. 
“Because they’re assholes,” Steve responded. 
“Okay, yeah, fair, but hasn’t Robin been begging you to get a place with her for, like, a year?” 
“It’s not like I was able to really take my time apartment hunting.”
“I still feel like crashing on Robin’s couch for a while would’ve made more sense than moving in here,” Dustin supplied. Steve rolled his eyes.
“I needed an apartment, she needed a roommate, that’s it. Alright?” Steve loved Dustin like a little brother, but good lord, he could be obnoxious sometimes. “Now pick out what you want so I can clean this shit up.”
Dustin finished his haul, though he grumbled about how Steve was rushing him the whole time, and gathered the previously neatly folded clothes into a messy pile.
“I didn’t think of how I was gonna get any of this stuff out to the car.” Dustin, at not- quite- eighteen years old, had finally gotten his drivers license. ‘Thank god,’ Steve had remarked, ‘that I don’t have to be your fucking chauffeur anymore.’ That sentiment only lasted a little while, though, as it quickly became clear that a drivers license meant that Dustin could come and bother Steve whenever he wanted to. And he wanted to all the time. “Will you help me carry it all out?”
“No, I won’t, because there are more trash bags in the cabinet under the sink.” Steve pointed towards the small kitchen. Dustin got up off the floor, going into the kitchen and checking in seemingly every cupboard you had.
“I said under the sink, dude!” Steve heard the squeaky cabinet hinges open and shut, the rustle of the plastic trash bag.
“Steve?” Dustin called after a moment. The apartment was small, and the only real thing separating the kitchen and living room was a few feet of counter and the floor switching from tile to carpet.
“What?” Steve responded, not bothering to look up from the clothes he was shoveling back into their own trash bag. 
“What’s this?” Dustin asked him. When Steve finally looked up at him, he was pointing towards something on the fridge, and it took Steve a second to realize that what Dustin was referring to was the ultrasound pictures that he’d forgotten to take down.
Well, shit.
Steve rocketed towards the fridge to put them away, but Dustin was faster and grabbed them before he could. The damage was already done.
“Dustin, please give me that,” Steve asked. 
“This has her last name on it,” the younger boy observed. 
“Put it down, alright? You weren’t supposed to see it in the first place, so just-”
“Is she fucking pregnant?” Dustin demanded. 
“Dustin, please.” 
“I didn’t think she was dating anyone, though?” the boy thought out loud. “Oh, my god, I wonder if it’s someone we know!”
Oh, it definitely is.
“Dude, c’mon, please just give me the picture.” Remember what Steve said about Dustin being obnoxious?
“Wait, why are you moving in with her if she’s pregnant?” Dustin inquired. “I’m pretty sure that extra bedroom is gonna be pretty occupied in nine months.”
“It’s closer to six, actually,” Steve clarified, and Dustin’s eyes widened. “But that isn’t the point, can you please just-”
“Steve?” the boy asked, tone shifting away from curiosity into something Steve found much more concerning.
“Yeah?” Steve sighed.
“Why did you move in with her?” he asked again, although the way he spoke the words made Steve think Dustin probably already had it figured out. 
“Why do you think?” was all Steve could come up with to say.
“Oh, my god.”
“Dustin-”
“Oh, my god!”
“You cannot tell anyone, okay? This is totally top secret,” Steve begged.
“Did you-? You two-!” Dustin stuttered out. “Oh, my god!”
Dustin was about to start hyperventilating and Steve was doing his best to keep that from happening, pulling the glossy image out of Dustin’s hand as if it were made of precious porcelain, when the sound of keys jingling in the door distracted them. Both boys fell into bitter silence as you opened the door and took in the sight in front of you; a very frazzled Steve and a very distressed Dustin.
“Hi?” you greeted. “What’s going-”
“You’re fucking pregant?” Dustin exclaimed.
“What?” you spat out in response. Steve could tell that your mind was working a mile a minute to come up with a way to cover for yourself. “I-I don’t, uhm-”
“I left the sonogram on the fridge by mistake,” Steve confessed. He felt awful. “I’m sorry, it didn’t even cross my mind.”
“Oh,” you replied. You hadn’t moved from your spot in the entryway, hadn’t put down your bag or taken off your coat. You just stayed frozen.
“Oh, I have so many feelings!” Dustin wheezed, leaning forward. “Oh, my god!”
“Yeah, you’ve mentioned him.”
“You’re having a fucking baby?” Dustin asked you.
“Yes,” you timidly responded, slowly placing your work bag onto the side of the couch.
“With Steve?!”
“Yes,” you said again.
“That Steve?” Dustin pointed a thumb over his shoulder to where Steve was hovering behind him. “Steve Harrington? Our Steve?”
You nodded. “That Steve.”
“Holy shit,” the boy breathed out.
“Please don’t be mad,” Steve requested.
“What? Mad, why would I be mad?” he asked. “Who’s mad?”
“Well, so far, everyone,” Steve explained.
“Wait, is this why Robin’s not talking to you?” Dustin asked.
“Robin’s not talking to you?” you piped up, concern dripping from your words. 
Steve hadn’t mentioned that part to you yet. 
Robin had been giving Steve total radio silence ever since she had found out. Even at work, she was refusing to say a single word to him. She went and hid in the bathroom anytime Steve tried to say anything at all, and she had even recruited Keith to be her disinterested, detached middle man and relay VHS-related messages if she really needed to. 
To say the least, she really hadn’t taken it all that well.
“Later?” he said to you, silently begging you to table this conversation for a time when you didn’t have a very upset teenager in your kitchen.
Sticky silence fell over the three of you, sealing to Steve’s skin and filling his lungs up in a way he hated. Dustin was the one who peeled through it first. 
“Are you actually having a baby?” The question was directed to Steve this time. Dustin was wildly expressive, he always had been, and he looked very, very overwhelmed. Steve felt about the same. He just nodded, and it took a second for Dustin to properly process the news.
“Gimme the picture again!” Dustin insisted. 
“No, dude! We only have a few and-”
“Excuse me, it’s my nephew, I think I get to see the picture if I want to!”
The tension dissolved as soon as the words came out of Dustin’s mouth. Steve had been so, so worried that he’d be mad, madder than Robin was. 
“Hah! See, Dustin thinks it’s a boy, too!” Steve exclaimed to you. Reservation made way for excitement. Like Dustin said, it’s his nephew.
“Oh, god, please don’t start with this again,” you said, smiling despite the faux exasperation in your voice.
“You think it’s a girl?” Dustin asked.
“I think,” you say as you shuck off your coat and lean against the counter, across from the boys, “that Steve is going to get his hopes up about it being a boy, and then be disappointed if it isn’t.”
“Not possible,” Steve clarified with a smile. “Besides, you don’t have to worry about it because I’m right, and it’s gonna be a boy.”
Dustin didn’t end up leaving until a good few hours later, when Steve noticed how your eyes kept fluttering shut as you leaned against his shoulder. He had to manhandle the boy out the door; he had a seemingly unending vault of questions (“you guys have been sleeping together this whole time?!”), but you were totally wiped. 
You really just wanted to just go to bed, but Steve insisted you ate something first, and a mug of soup later, you were practically dead on your feet. He cleaned up any dinner mess (canned soup doesn’t really result in any mess, but he’d be damned if you had to put your own dishes into the dishwasher), and sent you off to get ready for an early turn in. 
He’d just put the pot away when you summoned him into the bathroom.
“You alright?” Steve asked, leaning against the doorframe. You were standing in front of the sink in your pajamas. He could smell your mouthwash.
“Come look.”
Steve took a step into the bathroom to sidle up next to you as you pulled the bottom edge of your too-big t-shirt up. Your fingers ever so gently ghosted over your stomach.
“That wasn’t there before,” you asked, tilting your head back against the crook of Steve’s arm to look up at him. “Was it?”
Steve was entranced by your reflection in the mirror, by the way the swell of your tummy absolutely gave you away. 
“I don’t know.” Steve spoke just barely above a whisper, the way he would have if he was standing in a church. You felt like an angel beneath his arm. “I don’t think so.”
“I feel like I would have noticed it if it was,” you said, eyes glued to the mirror just as Steve’s were. 
“Definitely would’ve noticed,” Steve quietly gushed. “You officially have a baby bump.”
Realistically, you still had a couple more weeks before anyone else would actually be able to see it. Still small enough to hide behind your clothes, but absolutely, undoubtedly there. 
You hummed, and Steve noticed the way you were trying to hide your smile.
“You’re allowed to be happy about it, you know,” Steve reminded you. Your eyes caught his again, and your small, shy smile grew just a little bit bigger as you pulled his hand away from your hip and placed it firmly against the slope of your tummy. He felt his breath hitch, like the action of touching you was breaking some sort of cardinal law, but he stroked his thumb up and down, up and down across your skin, and you flattened yourself as deeply into his chest as you possibly could. He pressed a kiss to your temple, lingering in the scent of you for as long as he could allow himself to.
His hand stayed glued to you for the remainder of the evening.
Tiny Little Taglist: @sheisjoeschateau @hazydespair @damon-loves-pie @pariahsparadise @anislabonis-love @e509 @alexa4040 @starsforviolet @hoesbloated @luvlexi-darling
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melfinawins · 4 months
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I'm going to write a longish post on this, but yeah.
Also, if you're not down for vague dooming, don't read this lmao
For me, The Bear is a Hallmark movie with more swearing and more teeth. It'll end in the same spot as a Hallmark movie. Carmy will find balance and either be on his way to healing those open wounds from his childhood or will have healed them. He'll be self satisfied. Balanced. Home is Where the Heart Is type shit with a dash of All the Answers I was Searching for was Here all Along!
The question of romance on the show for me was about which romance trope was being used.
Was it going to be Carmy reconnecting with an old flame from his past? Or was it Carmy meets a person who changes his life for the better, but they're quirky/awkward and even though she drives him crazy, she drives him crazy.
I've seen the BTS from S4. I'm of two minds on this. Either Storer and co decided to resolve the romance aspect of the show a season early (weird, but I kind of like that?? That's certainly not as common these days) and it's about other things in s4 pertaining to the suspicions some of us have about Syd's job prospects. And then s4 is about either getting her back or a rivalry or just connecting on a personal level again. There are more options I'm sure, but those are the ones I'm thinking about currently.
Or, Claire is really just the cold prep as @chefkids and @thoughtfulchaos773 and others have more eloquently said, and Carmy will realize he wants Syd at the end of the series and breaks up with Claire.
The part of me who loves interesting stories and unexpected turns wants the romance part to be resolved because that's fun to me. But the black woman that I am who is so fucking sick and tired of seeing black characters support and lift up white characters is like, over it.
Another way I can see this going on the romance part is really what Joanna Calo said about Syd and Carmy: they really are just platonic and messy! So Carmy gets the best of two women. Cool. 🤢
Anyway!
I like to keep in mind that The Bear is a story about Chris, Gillian and his sister. The show is biographical in nature and when I think about SydCarmy not happening, it's more because Chris is like ew, Syd represents my sister and that's gross and less I don't value the stories of black women.
Like, Claire is a doctor and I kinda hate that her position in Carmy's life is so on the nose and I want for men to fucking stop treating the women in their lives like their therapists and parents/bangmaids Jesus fucking Christ. But Storer is a man, and a white man at that, so. 🙃 Like, Carmy has real issues that need a professional. No pussy is gonna cure that, not even Syd's!
If Carmy is the literal worst in s3 and nukes all his relationships because he refuses to get therapy and deal with his issues, I hope he and Claire end up together and stay together because damn, Syd deserves more than that dysfunction because she really is already too good for him.
But he hasn't done anything that's not salvageable. Yet.
Anyway, thanks for attending my Ted Talk!
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dinadumas · 1 year
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I love the problematic of tomarry in time travel fics and now I'm going to explain why hehe
Let's take a look at Tom and Harry separately.
We have Harry who is 16~17 years old. Say what you will, but he's a sarcastic asshole. This is perfectly demonstrated by mama Ro in the books (like the moments when Harry interacts with the Dursleys and many others).
The first 11 years of living with muggles affected him in a bad way. Dumbledore is a good man, but I judge him for Harry's childhood. He grew up an intimidated and lonely child so his friends were the most precious people in his life to him. He treasures good people.
Fucking prophecy. Jesus. Harry had been trained since he was 11 years old to beat some crazy dude who talked to snakes. For an 11-year-old boy just entering the wizarding world, it was like a professional boxer's punch. For him, the wizarding world was a hope for a better life. Surprise Harry, I'm sorry. The beautiful fairy tale turned out to be a lie.
He developed a hero complex during his Hogwarts years. He was willing to die to destroy the horcrux inside him and give others hope for the death of the dark lord.
Well, and let's not forget the wonderful sophomore year when Harry was bullied for parseltongue. Surely that wasn't pleasant and left its own residue okay?
He's impulsive. Harry's a man of action. He does some shit first and then thinks about the consequences afterwards ahahahaha
And let's talk honestly, you ready for this. He absolutely has ptsd. I wouldn't be surprised if he sleeps with a wand in his hand, seriously. Harry has been tried to kill at least 4 or 5 times, his friends and many others have been killed and tortured. Because of his status as the chosen one, he blamed all the troubles on himself. Cerrick's death was also a blow. This episode is absolute hell.
Harry is a strong wizard. Like baby... a patronus at 13? That's crazy. I love that kid. All in all, Harry Potter is a tired ball of nerves with a dash of sarcasm peppered with powerful magic.
And, uh, we have Tom.
Tom at 16~17?
God help me.
He's a monster. In both good and bad ways. This punk literally being an orphan without any support has taken control of an entire slytherin house filled with pompous snobs and blood purity advocates. Himself. Tom... how? My props.
Can you feel the magnitude of his genius and charisma? His only weapons were his mouth, his brains and his looks. Oh, and magic. He was lucky in one way. Merope fell in love with a Muggle. Let's thank her.
Thank you.
Let's continue. The orphanage. Apart from the meager food and lack of heating, the orphanage isn't too bad because Tom could fight back against those kids, but 24/7, 11 years of living in hate does its job. Tom is cynical. He doesn't trust people at all. To him, they're either an obstacle or a means to an end. Manipulator? Yeah huh, that's Tom Riddle.
Let's not make him a demon. Let's look back to June, 1943. We know Tom didn't plan to kill Myrtle. It was an accident. That means that at the time he probably wouldn't have decided to kill her himself, but fate made its move and it happened. You could say it was the beginning of his downfall. Tom didn't care about other people's lives, but after June, all moral boundaries that held him back were erased.
We all know why he was chasing immortality. The war. He saw it with his own eyes. All those ruined streets and dead bodies. He heard it all with his own ears. The sounds of explosions and evacuation signals.
He was terrified of his own weakness before death and the prospect of being just another nameless body. And he had ambitions for the whole of magical Britain. Yeaah.
All in all, the tag magnificent creep describes Tom Riddle very accurately.
Now let's look at these two little punks together.
Boom! You feel that? Explosive mix.
They're a lot alike, so competing with each other is something special for them. It makes the blood in their veins flow faster. And given their history for Harry and the horcrux connection for Tom, it's a hell of a relationship.
But. Their morals. Even if they're similar in some ways, they're still too different. It's cursed. Seriously. Harry and Tom took their lives every day. But they did it in different ways, and that makes all the difference. Tom initially fought for a better life for himself, later it turned into an obsession to turn the whole ministry upside down. Harry also wanted a better life, but he also wanted the happiness of the people around him. He wanted to be surrounded by that happiness. Because...well, why would happy people want to harm him? Exactly.
Harry sees his happiness in others, he wants to share it with someone else while Tom uses other people's weaknesses to find the best place under the sun for himself.
That's what I see as the problem tomarry. It's the way they accomplish their goals. They want the same thing, but they do it in completely different ways and it leads to different results.
It's crazy. It's killing me.
Unfortunately every day of their lives would be a little war. Sure, it adds passion to their relationship but it also hurts them. Harry would never accept Tom's indifference to other people's lives, and Tom would never feel safe around Harry or be able to trust him completely.
I think we all realize that the foundation of a strong relationship is trust in your partner. In a moment of special intimacy when they both know each other very well they will absolutely not trust each other completely. After all, they know what their lover is capable of.
Tom: You annoy the hell out of me
Harry: ...
Tom: but I'm obsessed with you, go on.
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