#(okay hope the date works in-game too)
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folkloresthings · 3 months ago
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❛ THUNDERSTRUCK ❜ ❨ charles leclerc x dcc!reader ❩
where ferarri’s golden boy is in love with america’s sweetheart and doesn’t care what anyone has to say about it.
faceclaim: reece weaver.
… based loosely off of this request and my current obsession after binging the dcc documentary
INSTAGRAM.
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liked by dccheerleaders, charles_leclerc, and 837,922 others
yourusername AHH!! so so so happy to announce that i’ll be returning for another year as a dallas cowboys cheerleader 💙 it’s my favourite job in the world and i couldn’t dream of doing anything else. see you on the field!!!
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user my fav girl after watching the doc on netflix!!!
dccheerleaders can’t wait for game day! 💙🏈📣
⤷ yourusername go cowboys!!!!
user is there going to be a season 2?
user what is mister charles leclerc doing in the likes
⤷ user america’s sweethearts/drive to survive crossover?
charles_leclerc 💙💙💙
⤷ user HELLO????
TWITTER.
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INSTAGRAM.
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liked by carlossainz55, franciscagomez and 890,482 others
yourusername tune in today to watch us represent texas at the annual USA formula 1 grand prix! 🏎️ what’s harder: driving cars at 120mph or the thunderstruck choreo?
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scuderiaferrari you guys definitely win the difficulty contest
⤷ user dcc could race f1 but the drivers could never do the jump splits
user is she there w charles????
user you guys are obsessed, they’re probably not even dating
⤷ user i hope not, he suited girls like alex and charlotte so much more
landonorris me watching the pre-race performance 🤯🤯🤯
user okay i’m not a fan of her but that dancing???? holy shit she’s talented
⤷ user right??? those high kicks were fire
charles_leclerc i have, indeed, been thunderstruck
⤷ yourusername all the way to P1, i hope
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liked by landonorris, lewishamilton and 1,739,183 others
charles_leclerc bring your (beautiful, talented, badass, kind, yeehaw) girlfriend to work day and she’ll become your good luck charm
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user NOOO 💔 one win, one loss
carlossainz55 congrats bro!!! but you should’ve done the hairography on podium
⤷ user carlos knows what hairography is 😭
user he really shut you all down lmao
yourusername MY CHAMP! love you 🩷🩷🩷
⤷ user awwww they are cute you gotta admit
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liked by rebeccadonaldson, lilymunihe and 1,309,433 others
yourusername swapped blue for red for a day ❤️
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user they’re growing on me
redbullracing come visit us next time and you can wear blue 😉
⤷ scuderiaferrari she’s ours!!!!
⤷ dccheerleaders maybe we should change our uniforms to red?
user she’s so cute
⤷ user right 🥹 you could hear her cheering for charles at the podium
⤷ user you could hear her accent too 😁
charles_leclerc my southern belle ❤️❤️❤️
⤷ yourusername yeehaw 🤠
🗞️ this wasn’t exactly what the original anon asked for but i wanted to write a dcc reader for weeeeeks and the ask finally gave me the change so i tweaked some things 😁😁😁
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lemonlover1110 · 2 months ago
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𝐀 𝐑𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐲 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭
Zayne
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Pairing: Zayne x f!Reader
Summary: The rain ruining his plans might have been the best possible luck.
Warnings: MDNI, Fluff, Smut, Oral Sex (f. receiving), Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Creampie
Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi
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“It’s raining.” You point out, face nearly pressing on the window as you stare outside. It was going to happen sooner or later, the dark clouds had been adorning the sky the entire day, yet the day went dry.
“Raining?” Zayne sounds surprised, as if he hadn’t been staring at the same dark sky a couple of hours earlier. He stands up, walking over to look out the window as if he didn’t trust your word. You swear you hear him sigh when he confirms that it’s indeed raining.
“Is everything okay? Is our date still on?” You look at him, worried about his reaction. He wants to say that the rain will be over in ten minutes and the plans are still on… But it doesn’t look like it’ll stop any time soon. 
“The rain is going to make things more… Difficult.” Zayne answers, not wanting to give up on the date idea just yet. There is no hope though, you can’t go stargazing when it’s storming out. You stare at him, trying to study the look on his face– A task that’s difficult since the man does a great job at suppressing any trace of emotion. “Maybe we have to change a couple of things.”
From now on he will leave the dates to you and only you, because the one time he plans something it’s ruined before it even begins. It’s what he gets for trying to be romantic, there’s a reason you’re the one that usually takes on the role. 
“Like?” You ask, and he isn’t sure how to answer. He already had everything planned out, and he put his all to the specific date so now his brain is empty. The lack of answer makes you chuckle. “So we’re staying in?”
“Unless I get a reservation in time.” Zayne reaches for his phone to look up restaurants nearby, trying to salvage the night but you snatch the device from his hands. He raises his brows, wondering what you have in mind.
“Let’s stay in. We can cook something, play a couple of games… Other stuff.” You respond, and Zayne fights back a smile. It’s great to have someone pick up his slack. “I found this new recipe that I’ve been dying to try.”
“Tell me what you need, and I’m on it.” He says, and you can’t help but smile. He’s willing to do anything when you have his attention. 
“I think we have everything, I just need you to chop up some stuff.” You tell him, and he nods in response. He’s not a great cook since he barely has the time or energy to make his own meals, but at the very least he’s great at chopping up stuff. “You can be my sous chef.”
“Yes, ma’am.” There’s a subtle smile on his lips, and it overflows your heart with joy when you notice it. You wonder why he smiles but it’s never unwelcome. Especially from him.
You kiss his cheek before telling him, “Let’s get to work.”
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After nearly burning the house down trying the new recipe, you surprisingly end up with a delicious meal on your table. You’re enjoying your meal, too busy stuffing your face to keep up a proper conversation. You don’t need to talk either way, each other’s presence is enough to satisfy any need for interaction. Though Zayne can’t help but comment,
“Surprisingly it doesn’t taste burnt.” Which makes you roll your eyes. He can’t help but bring it up when you told him a million times that you had it under wraps. 
“I told you I had it handled.” You respond. “Or do you not have faith in me, Dr. Zayne?”
“Dr. Zayne?” He raises a brow, and you hum in response. He lets out a low laugh before answering, “I do have faith in you… But I am allowed to draw some conclusions when I see a flame coming from the pan.”
“That wasn’t a flame.” You argue, and he slightly shakes his head.
“Then why did the fire alarm go off?” He points out, and you puff out a breath. You cross your arms, your appetite gone because your boyfriend won’t allow you to have the last word. He never does, and it might be his only defect. He couldn’t be perfect. 
“Next time I’m leaving the cooking to you then.” You pout. He doesn’t want you to feel bad for the light fire, it could happen to anyone plus you were cooking a new recipe.
“You’re a far better cook than I am.” He responds, hoping that it’ll make you feel better. He’s staring at you, trying to decipher what you feel based on the expression on your face. You only stick out your bottom lip, clearly not happy with what he’s said.
What did he say wrong? He said all the right words, you should be gleaming not… Looking disappointed.
“Only because you don’t have time to pick up the skill, if you did then you would be saying something far much different.” You end up telling him, and he takes a moment to look at your face. He’s not sure how to answer. He ends up by telling the truth,
“Probably.” And the moment the word leaves his lips, he realizes he couldn’t have picked a worse answer. You look absolutely mortified, and he doesn’t know how to deal with it.
“Probably? You’re not supposed to say that.” You say, and he gives you a subtle nod. He’s not supposed to tell you the truth then.
“What am I supposed to say then?” He sounds ever so serious, and one swift look at his face makes you think that he is, indeed, serious. 
“No, I doubt it. You’re the best cook ever, dear.” You end up answering, almost laughing at your own response. You see a twinge of a smirk on his face, and you feel like you’ve accomplished something. He lets himself loose around you, and often laughs at any stupid joke that you make, but it still feels rare when you actually see him smile.
“Alright then, so not the truth. Simple.” He answers, and the smirk that comes to his lips doesn’t fill you with pride like it usually does. You puff out a breath and he says, “Repeat the statement.”
“No.” Your answer is firm, therefore he won’t bug you to do it. He’ll drop the subject. 
You two continue eating, and for once he’s the one that makes most of the conversation. He should apologize, he should’ve chosen better words. 
“If it makes you feel better, the one time I plan a date… It starts to rain.” Zayne hopes that by admitting his own failures, he’ll make you feel better. You can’t help but chuckle.
“That doesn’t mean that you suck, it just means that the weather isn’t on your side.” You reassure him, face turning to look out the window. The rain still falls, much harder than before. “Plus I’m enjoying the date. Well, I was before you–”
“In my defense, I was initially complimenting the dish.” He argues, and you can’t help but laugh. A petty argument from a compliment. Though you’d argue that it was backhanded, Zayne isn’t all that great with words– Unless it’s with him coming up with a witty comeback, or of course, explaining medical terminology.
“How about you start cleaning up while I look for a game we can play?” You change the topic as you finish up your meal. Zayne immediately nods, more than willing to fulfill the task that you’ve assigned. He begins to clear the table, and you stand up to look for the games that are hidden away. Games that you’ve gotten to play with him but you’ve never had the time to actually sit down together and figure out.
You look for something that’ll make the night more fun, and also something that you have yet to play… But you still land on an old game. Something that gets both of you competitive. You end up pulling an old game that you’ve played a dozen times with him. A game that makes you want to break up with him, but when you make up it’s a memorable night.
You set up the table with the game, and wait for Zayne to finish up in the kitchen. You’d offer to help if he was doing any other task, but you aren’t going out of your way to clean up, even if it is to help your amazing boyfriend. Maybe you can take a peek at the cards as you wait for him to come back to the table.
“Okay, I’m ready.” Zayne walks back to the table, grabbing the cards that you definitely didn’t take a quick look at, and shuffling them. “Who’s going first?”
“I am. I don’t trust you while playing kitty cards.” You respond, and he hands out two cards. You frown as you look at them, knowing that you’re starting off on a bad foot. Your assist cards can help you make a comeback, so you’re only praying you get lucky with that.
“I should be the one saying that, I saw you look at the cards.” He lets out a low laugh as he gives himself three cards. He takes a seat across from you before commenting, “Given by the look on your face, you didn’t get all that lucky.”
“I’m going to win. Mark my words.”
Though you’re as competitive as you can be, luck simply isn’t on your side. Zayne doesn’t help your case, using every card that he has, against your favor. You glare at him with every move he takes, and he smirks, proud of his every move.
“Can you leave me alone? I barely have any points, there’s no point for you to null my card.” You complain, and Zayne shakes his head. 
“I have to take every possible precaution.” He answers, putting down a card that takes away your turn– And if that isn’t horrible enough, he takes away one of the kitty cards that you’ve put down. “Last time you won, I heard about it for weeks.”
“Last time I lost, you also heard about it for weeks. Matter of fact, we almost broke up.” You point out, and you watch as the corner of his lips turn. He’s trying his best to fight back a smile, and you have to roll your eyes. “And if you keep up with your act, we might actually break up.”
“It’s just a game of kitty cards.” Zayne says, which makes you glare at him. You cross your arms, a scoff leaving your lips. Just a game of kitty cards? The game becomes a very serious matter when you’re as competitive as you are.
“If you don’t take it seriously, then you should let me win.” You claim, and Zayne knows that unless he stops playing, your date will completely go sour. He just fixed matters after his unnecessary comment, he can’t let himself nearly ruin the date once again. He could try to let you win, but at this point there’s no way you can make a comeback. Plus, it’s not satisfactory for him.
“How about we stop.” He suggests, and you know you can’t win.
“Fine.” You answer, a hint of attitude in your voice just so he notes that you’re not happy with him.  
“What were we going to do today?” You ask him, beginning to clear the table. The sight of the unfair game is keeping you mad, so it’s best to clean up. Zayne joins you.
“Stargazing.” He responds, which perks up your eyebrows. Where exactly? “It’s a place not too far from here that gives a perfect view of the city, and I thought it’d be a nice date. I bought a couple of snacks to have a late picnic, but the universe isn’t on my side.”
“That is such a cute date!” You comment, eyes looking out the window to see that the rain has calmed down. “We can still do it.”
Zayne looks in the same direction. It’s not what he pictured, but it’s not a bad idea.
“Just for a minute.” He grabs your hand, fingers intertwining with yours before he guides you outside. Your anger is long forgotten when you feel his large hand lightly squeezing your own. There’s still some light rain when you exit the place, but you aren’t staying outside for too long so it’s not an issue.
“Look, there’s a full moon.” You immediately point to the sky. The clouds had been hiding the moon all night, and now you finally get a chance to glance at it. “Just look at it, it’s so beautiful.”
“It really is beautiful.” He answers, though his eyes aren’t looking at the moon. His thumb traces lazy circles on the back of your hand, as he finally looks up at the sky. Stargazing is a dumb date if you aren’t going to the countryside. In a way, he’s glad his plans were ruined. 
You look back at Zayne, a foolish smile coming to your lips. Stargazing would’ve been nice, even if you don’t get a great sight, laying next to him for a whole night is the type of date that you need. You don’t even need to talk, each other’s presence is more than enough for you to be satisfied.
“Why are you smiling?” He finally looks back at you. It’s not a complaint, he’s overjoyed to find you smiling. He just wonders what’s going on in your mind. Two fingers come up to his face, brushing away the hair that’s on his forehead before you get on your tip-toes to press a kiss on it.
“You are so cute.” You tell him, and he chuckles. Out of all words that you could’ve picked, cute is the one that he least expected.
“Cute?” He responds, and you hum in response. Nevertheless, it’s a compliment so he’ll accept it. He smiles back at you, gaze getting lost into your eyes. You have the most beautiful eyes he’s ever seen, maybe that’s the reason he’s so desperately in love with you. “Cute. I’ll take it.”
“Let’s go inside before you get sick.” There’s a mischievous smile on your lips as you say the words. He’s the one that usually says the phrase, but the tables have turned. Zayne lets go of your hand, hands falling on your waist before pulling you closer.
“Let’s enjoy the moment a little longer, I don’t mind getting sick.” His nose brushes against yours, his eyes looking into yours ever so lovingly. His supple lips land on yours, pulling away within seconds. “It’s barely even raining.”
“Just a minute then.” You tell him, and he nods in response. However, Zayne doesn’t care to look at the sky. Apart from the full moon, there’s nothing that’s worth noting.
He loves the feeling of the rain on his skin, every droplet is a subtle reminder that this is real. He’s living in the moment. What’s happening right now is not a fragment of his imagination. The way you look at him, the way you laugh, the way your hands wrap behind his neck– It’s all real.
“Okay, we should go now. I don’t want you to get sick… And I also don’t want to get sick.” You say, and he smiles. He lets go of you, allowing you to go inside without an issue. You’re not going inside without him though. You grab Zayne’s hand and drag him inside, knowing that if he gets sick, you’ll end up getting sick as well.
“I’m going to get changed.” You tell him, and he mindlessly follows. He’s seen you naked many times, there’s no need to be shy… Except he is the one that gets shy at the mere thought of seeing you naked. He’s already flustered at the idea of you getting changed; but he still follows.
“What do you want to do now? Watch a movie?” You ask him, getting to the room. There’s a sudden increase in temperature– Or is it just Zayne? Why does he feel hot?
“A movie… Sounds fun.” He swallows thickly, watching as you begin to lift up your shirt. His cheeks turn pink at the sight of some skin, but you never take off your shirt. You notice he’s staring, and you fight back on smirking. 
“Do you have something else in mind?” You watch him step towards you, ever so slowly. He’s hesitating. Should he? He doesn’t want to turn the sweet night into something… More. But he does.
He wants to feel every inch of you, and frankly, the shirt that you have on outlines everything which doesn’t really help. Maybe he’s a pervert for the thoughts that creep into his head, but it’s hard to think differently when you look like this right before him.
Before you know it, Zayne’s lips land on yours, tongue exploring your mouth before it finds your own. His tongue presses against yours while his hands desperately try to take off the damp clothes that cover your body. Very skilled hands struggle, nerves overtaking him at the thought of feeling your body. An action he’s done many times before, but he turns into putty each and every time.
You’re not as nervous though, hands going to his belt and unbuckling it without an issue. Your hands go into his boxers, feeling him up which makes the man pathetically whimper into your kiss. He can come undone from a single move. And even when your hands are wrapped around his cock, he’s too nervous to touch under your shirt.  
You pull away, a string of saliva connecting your lips until you pull far enough that the bond breaks. You take off your shirt, and Zayne is watching you as if he were a teenager all over again. Cheeks burn red at the sight of some skin, it’s truly pathetic. It’s not just some skin though, you’re getting completely undressed in front of him.
“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” He’s dumbfounded, it’s as if he’s never seen this before. This is nothing new to him, but it always feels like the first time… That’s a good thing, right? 
His lips land on yours again, though he takes more risks this time as his hand fondles your breast. His lips don’t last long on your mouth, choosing to kiss down your neck, before his lips land on your breasts. His lips kiss every inch of your skin before his tongue circles around your nipple. 
It’s nice, but you need more. Your body is begging to feel every inch of him. Luckily for you, it’s as if Zayne can read your mind.
“I need to taste more of you. Please.” There’s desperation behind his eyes, it’s as if he needs it. You get on the bed for him, legs spreading without a shame in the world.He stares down at you and he licks his lips. Maybe this is how he should’ve led the date in the first place.
“You’re so gorgeous.” He says as he gets on his knees. He kisses your inner thigh, working his way up. So gentle and shy, but he doesn’t want to get ahead of himself. Doing things slowly is what makes this more exciting.
“Smells so sweet.” He finally gets to your pussy, the tip of his nose pressing against your clit before he kisses it. His lips feel so soft on you. He kisses your clit again before his tongue begins to flick it. Tastes even better than he remembered. 
Sweeter than he could ever imagine.
Low moans escape your lips as you feel his tongue work on you. The sound of your voice is perfect, all the motivation he needs to do this. It’s his reward for the night, and he couldn’t be happier. It’s perfect. You’re perfect. 
He kisses your clit, two long fingers running through your folds to gather your slick. Once his fingers are lubricated enough, he slowly pushes them in. He begins to suck on your clit and your eyes roll to the back of your head. You moan his name, pleasure already consuming you.
He curves his fingers so they hit just the right spot. You bite down your lip, feeling embarrassed at the thought of being too loud. He’s looking up at you, and the look on your face is something he wants to have ingrained in his memory.
His fingers pick up speed, and your hands grip the bed sheets. Pleasure consumes you, your climax slowly overtaking your body. You’re moaning his name again, unable to contain yourself as sex clouds your mind. 
“That’s it, baby! That’s so good.” You can’t help yourself as your boyfriend hits all the right spots. It’s music to his ears. Even when he’s been congratulated for his many achievements, this is the best thing he’s ever heard.
Your breath gets caught up in your chest, your body quivering as you finally reach your climax. Zayne pulls out his fingers, tongue continuing to lap at your cunt until he’s finally satisfied. He presses a kiss on your clit when he’s finished.
“I need you, baby. Please.” You say, and Zayne can’t afford to waste another moment. It hurts to even think with the uncomfortable feeling that’s in his pants. He walks to the nightstand to get the bottle of lube before giving all his attention to you. He gets undressed before getting on top of you.
“Are you sure you want this?” Zayne asks as he pours the lube all over his dick. Maybe he should consider some sort of protection, but he needs to fully feel you. He needs to feel every inch of your body. 
“I need you, please. Give it to me.” Your voice is enough to drive him wild. He runs the tip of his cock through your folds before slowly pushing himself into you. He bites his lip, not wanting the pathetic noise that leaves his throat to be audible. You feel so nice and warm around his cock, so fucking perfect in every single way.
“It’s so good.” He mutters, eyes nearly rolling to the back of his head as he feels you around him. He bottoms out, stopping to give you time to adjust. 
“Move.” You tell him, and Zayne begins to move with slow thrusts. His eyes focus on your face, watching as it contorts with pleasure. It’s hard for him to not get nervous when you look like this, so fucking perfect. 
“You’re so tight.” He says, hands gripping the bed sheets. Your legs wrap around his waist, hands going to the back of your neck to push him down. Your lips meet his in a messy but passionate kiss.
You drive him insane.
“You’re doing so good, baby.” You praise him, and you hear a groan come from his throat. His thrusts pick up speed, slowly losing himself inside of you. All composure comes undone when it comes to you.
He watches your hand move down your torso, and before you can even finish your thought, his hand takes over. His fingers play with your clit, doing everything just right. Your eyes are rolling to the back of your head, moaning his name over and over again.
“Fuck.” He curses, a word that rarely leaves his lips. But what else can he say when you’re squeezing around him? He shuts his eyes, too overwhelmed by everything that goes on. Your hands go to his back, nails digging into his soft flesh which makes him moan– The slight pain heightens the pleasure.
“Zayne, I’m gonna–” You begin, pleasure overtaking your body as another climax approaches. Zayne hits all the right spots, he simply knows your body too well. 
“I know, dear. I know.” He’s out of breath. He’s close too. It’s just too much for him to handle. But you’re one step ahead of him. Your nails drag along the skin of his back as pleasure gets the best of you. You see white, finally reaching your high. 
“Good job.” He praises you, knowing that he’s not going to last much. You’re just too much for him, which in the context, is a wonderful thing. His thrusts get sloppy, getting more vocal by the second.
“Can I finish inside?” He asks, and you frantically nod your head, not even having the words to say yes. You pull him into a kiss, and he groans into it as he releases his warm cum into you. A dragged out sigh leaves his lips when he pulls away from the kiss. 
He stays buried inside of you, not wanting to leave your warmth just yet. He stares into your eyes for a bit, getting lost in them once again. There’s a certain spark in them, one that he’s noticed only appears when you look at him. The same spark that appears in his eyes.
“Can we cuddle?” You ask him as he pulls out of you. He lays down beside you, turning his head to look at your sweaty face.
“Clean up first.” He says, though you don’t listen and nuzzle up next to him. He rolls his eyes, but he still wraps his arms around you. “I admit, this is much better than stargazing.”
“We could’ve done that there too.” You respond without missing a beat, and his face gets completely red. He definitely wasn’t imagining that. He supposes that you could’ve, but it wouldn’t be as special– It would be even more special, it just would be indecent.
“I like it better here.” He tells you, pressing a kiss on the top of your head. “It’s warm, and there’s no bugs around.”
“You’re right.” You chuckle. “Could you imagine if a mosquito bit you–”
“How about I run you a bath?” Zayne cuts you off, knowing that the question that’s about to leave your lips is absurd. He doesn’t want to hear it. 
“Will you join me?” You question, getting off him. He takes a moment to look at you before nodding in response. 
A bath sounds nice.
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osaemu · 11 months ago
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GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ KISSIN' AND HOPE THEY CAUGHT US ❜❜
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.ೃ࿐ streamer!au: you and him kiss—a lot—while the stream's still going, but neither of you notice
contents: fem!reader. pda written by someone who doesn't particularly like pda. gets a little suggestive around the end. inumaki tells satoru 'kys' multiple times. not proofread.
author's note: kissin' and hope they caught us, whether they like or not, i wanna show you off, i wanna show you offff
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"i swear you guys are really out to get me," satoru groans, addressing the flood of comments filling up his chatbox. he spins around in his chair, tilting his head back and exhaling when he stops. you watch him shake his hair out of his eyes and grin at the camera, just like he does every time he's getting ready to end the stream.
"okay, guys, that's enough, i gotta go," satoru says, right on cue. he partially turns around and shoots a rueful smile your way, taking a quick moment to admire the way you look all cozied up on his couch. and it's only an added bonus that you're even wearing his hoodie—the same one he wore on your first date.
turning back to the screen, satoru stretches his arms and waves. "see ya tomorrow, can't wait. except for you, toji, and inumaki too. fuck you guys," he adds, snorting when he sees their replies just a moment later.
inumaki: kys!!!
inumaki has been kicked from the stream by satoru-gojo.
"aw, and we were almost about to set a new streak of one day without me kicking inumaki," satoru sighs, shaking his head dramatically. "maybe one day we'll even make it to two streams, but i think that'll take a couple centuries." satoru laughs and waves offhandedly, clicking the 'x' in the corner of his stream to end it.
he switches tabs to go back to his previous game's stats and turns around again, spinning his chair to face you. satoru opens his arms and beckons you with both his hands, a puppy-like shine in his eyes. "c'mere, lemme hold you for a little," he says, smiling wider when you begrudgingly get up from your spot on his couch.
"i was so comfy," you mumble, wrapping your arms around yourself as you walk over to satoru. if his stream was still on, you'd probably be on camera now.
"i'll make you even comfier," satoru insists, grabbing your hand and tugging you into his lap. his arms snake around your waist and hold you snugly against his chest, hands slipping into the pockets of your hoodie. "you look so cute, wearin' my hoodie like that," he smiles, kissing your cheek affectionately.
"satoru, your lips are cold," you grumble, leaning away from his mouth—but you don't put that much distance between you two, considering his snug grip on your torso. satoru ignores your protests and kisses you again, peppering kisses all over the side of your face.
"you're so—fuckin'—cute," satoru murmurs, punctuating each word with a kiss. his lips are soft and you can feel them warm up a little more with each press to your cheek. his minty breath tickles your face as he whispers sweet nothings against your skin, decorating your face with his lips.
"what's the occasion?" you ask tentatively, looking at satoru's blushing face out of the corner of your eye. he tilts his head and shrugs, and you feel his chest rise and fall as he does so.
"do i need an excuse to kiss my girlfriend?" satoru replies cheekily, rubbing your tummy through the pockets of your hoodie. "my hands are cold, baby, wanna warm them up?"
"huh—"
satoru doesn't wait for an answer before he tugs your hands into your pockets with his, hiding a smile at the little indignant sound you make. "you're so cute, i just wanna eat you up," satoru mumbles, scrunching up his nose. his white hair falls into his eyes for the thousandth time, and he blows out a puff of air in an attempt to clear up his vision. it doesn't work—his hair just falls right back into his eyes.
so you extract your hands from where they're clasped in between satoru's and brush back his hair, fingertips lingering on the sides of his face. he turns his head and presses his lips to the palm of one of your hands, cold lips curling into a smile at the cat-like look on your face.
"how was the stream today?" you ask, leaning into his chest. satoru shrugs again, kissing the top of your head.
"fine, i won a couple rounds," satoru says indifferently. his attention is on you, only you—right now, his stream and his games are at the back of his mind. "don't change the subject, baby."
you huff in disbelief, nudging your elbow against his chest. "what even was the subject?"
"me wanting to eat you up," satoru replies instantly. he grins playfully, hugging you tighter and burying his face in your hair. "c'mon, you know you wanna—"
the flickering red dot in the top-right corner of his screen catches your eye, and you practically flinch out of his arms. satoru looks at you, confusion evident on every part of his face. "what is it, baby?"
you groan and lean away from him and closer to his table, dragging the mouse over to one of his tabs and clicking it open. and just like that, satoru realizes that this entire time you've been live. to thousands of people. for five whole minutes.
"oops," satoru says with a sheepish smile, scratching his head bashfully. you turn and shoot a venomous look at him, and he laughs nervously. "oh, uh, that's my bad, honey—"
"you're dead," you mutter, grinning when satoru shrinks back into his chair. satoru swallows and gives you a thumbs-up, gently nudging you out of the way to check the comments.
yuuji-itadori: aw they're so cute together :)
toji-fushiguro: she can do so much better
inumaki: how does this loser have more streams than me. kys kys kys!!!!!
inumaki has been banned from the stream by satoru-gojo.
7K notes · View notes
sharkikive · 5 months ago
Note
Ken Sato with a supermodel!reader pls pls pls
Like they're dating in secret but accidentally reveals their situation and their fans go wild
OMG sure! Sorry this took time for me to write and I really do hope you'll like it <3
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runway to your heart (ken sato x supermodel!fem!reader)
Summary: A baseball player and a supermodel, both celebrities in their respective fields. A relationship that had to be kept under wraps.
It was supposed to be a secret... until it wasn't.
Word count: 6,913
CW: Fluff, slightly suggestive (he def talks you through it), Ken Sato being the boyfriend of the year
A/N: I tried my best in writing this because I am not familiar with both fields (baseball and modelling) so here you go! This was purely out of my own imagination and is very, very self-indulgent because damn, who wouldn't want Ken Sato in their life? Rich, soft spoken, a good father, and the list goes on. Hope you enjoy this one just like how I kicked my feet every single time Ken becomes THE boyfriend.
***
Cheers erupted throughout the whole stadium and through the speakers, mixing in with the noise in the dressing room.
Hair rollers tucked in, brush with powder dancing across your face, and a neutral expression to let the makeup artist do his magic. Your eyes dutifully closed as the artist worked on your eyelids, but your ears got sharper to hear the conversations around you.
You knew who the main topic in the room would be, and that was the man that had just scored another point in the game on screen.
“Oh God,” you heard one of your model colleagues groan. “Ken Sato is too attractive. Look at that smile, that body-” she stopped talking and addressed you next. “Y/N, isn’t Ken Sato so handsome? Imagine being his girlfriend. That would be a-ma-zing.”
Your eyes were still closed and you hummed an immediate reply. “He’s okay. I’ve seen better and-” You opened your eyes when the makeup artist told you that he’s done with your eyes. “He seems like a cocky bastard.”
Your colleague, Hina, gave an exaggerated gasp as she heard your reply. “You did not just say that about Ken Sato. If he isn’t your type, I wouldn’t know who else would be able to satisfy you. He is the most sought-after man.”
You shrugged. “You never know. Maybe I like a single dad who has to raise a kid on his own, with him himself having daddy issues.”
Hina narrowed her eyes at you suspiciously, before prancing over and stared at you. “You know that whatever you described was very specific? Y/N,” she said, almost quietly, “are you seeing someone?”
“Yeah, I’m seeing you, Hina.”
She clicked her tongue. “You know, you always answer so smartly. One day, Y/N, I will discover your secret!”
You chuckled, watching as Hina got dragged by the stylist, prepping her to get her up to the runway. Your turn was still a long way to go, so you were left with your hair held up by rollers, while your eyes caught a notification on your phone. You read the notification and smiled, but quickly returned to a neutral expression.
The message read: It’s another win for us tonight, baby. Can’t wait to see you after this. Good luck for your show today, and break a leg. I know you’ll do great.
You typed in a reply, quickly snapping a picture of your prepped face and sending it over to the recipient. You weren’t even able to put down your phone when the next reply came in the next second.
You swore, this person could make you smile without even knowing, which could be a very risky thing considering the nature of both of your relationship.
Looking gorgeous as always, baby. The text message read. I really am the luckiest man to have you.
You put down your phone as your name was called over; your turn was approaching fast. You were practically floating around from one point to another, having different hands adding last-minute touch ups.
The line was moving fast before it was your turn, and you could see that every one of the models who finished their turn returned with a grim look on their faces backstage. You looked at the small entrance, and when you spotted Hina, you quickly signaled for her to come over.
“Was the runway condition that bad?” you whispered to her, whose hair was going in different directions at once.
“They said they wanted to simulate an ‘extreme condition’ on the runway, right?” She did quotation marks.
You nodded, agreeing to her. “Yeah.” You inched up the line. “The theme for today’s show is extreme weather.”
Hina exhaled slowly as she attempted to fix her hair. “All I can say is that they managed to replicate it well.” She shook her head. “Good luck, Y/N. You’ll need it.”
You turned your head back to the front, your turn coming closer as the models in front of you went out to continue the show. It was a rapid show, where you finally had your turn right after Hina disappeared behind a row of clothes.
You understood what Hina meant as soon as one foot was out from behind the scenes. The runway was boxed within a transparent glass, protecting the simulation from the audience.
From years of experience, you put on your best face before walking down the runway, doing your best in showing off the collection.
You were sure they were trying to imitate a blizzard, but the worst they could offer to models wearing heavy dresses and high heels. You saw the model in front of you fall first, the strong winds knocking her back before as she couldn’t fight it back.
One rule on the runway: you keep on walking, no matter the condition. Walk over your fellow models, maintain your expression and show off what you have. It’s an unapologetic world out here.
But that’s exactly the reason why you’re known as the rule breaker around here.
While maintaining your face, you did a show of reaching out to the fallen model, helping her up to let her continue, but you figured this time around, being a rule breaker did have its consequences.
You knew the fallen model; she considered herself as your rival, always trying to one up you in every single aspect. Every, single, aspect including boasting about having a ‘sweetheart’ while you don’t.
Your rival, Mei, quickly took this as a chance to get back at you and embarrass you in front of the audience. She accepted your hand at first, but you realised that she was pulling you down instead of pushing herself up. Not enough with it, she added an extra push, disguised under the pretext of accepting your help to get up.
You were thrown to the side, and coupled with the condition on the runway, you almost tumbled off the path. Luckily, you managed to break the fall but as you landed sideways, you could feel the bruise forming near your right ankle. You cursed silently as you saw Mei picking herself back up and smirking in a split second before strutting away, leaving you stranded.
You knew no one was going to help you up as long as the show was on, so you braced yourself while continuing. Throughout the whole show, you managed to finish without breaking rhythm. You didn’t let the pain hinder you, although all you wished to do was to be lying down, giving your body a much needed rest.
Backstage after the end of the show, your manager, a sweet woman in her 40s, quickly rushed to you. A single mother of 2, Ms. Tornado as you’d like to call her, as she always seemed like she was caught up in something chaotic. She fussed over you, but you quickly brushed her away.
”Ms. Tor,” you cooed, hiding the pain with a calm demeanour, “I’m done for the day. Let’s go back.”
On the way out, you gave a signal of reassurance towards Hina, who looked worried while her right fingers were tapping on her left knuckles. You saw Mei smirking at you, offering no words to you. You gave her no satisfaction of seeing you in pain as you smiled back.
You knew that everyone had seen you fall on the runway, but that didn’t disturb you.
Your phone pinged with a notification. As you read the message in the car, you turned to Ms. Tornado on the driver’s seat. She understood your signal.
”Usual place?” she asked.
Unable to hide your excitement, you quickly nodded.
No further questions asked as she drove towards the city border, bringing you to one special spot you had practically owned with that one person. In fact, you’re sure that he had bought ownership over the whole area. Your smile grew wider as you spotted the person waiting on a camping chair with an empty one next to it, a campfire lit up.
You sneaked up from behind, forgetting the pain in your legs as you broke into a run, almost causing the person to tumble forward as you hugged him from behind.
”Kenji!” You exclaimed, your character a total 180 degrees from whatever you put on when you were ‘the supermodel who revived the fashion scene’.
With him, you allowed yourself to be comfortable; no pretense of having to check your posture, controlling your expressions or giving off a cold demeanour. With him, you were just Y/N, the girl who preferred to be nested in your home, finishing your time up by watching your same favourite shows over and over again.
Kind of ironic how you considered yourself an introvert yet landed a job that essentially thrusted you into the spotlight.
Kenji exclaimed your name back in the same energy you gave him, hugging your arms as he planted a kiss on the back of your hand. He stood up and dear God, you love this man so much. One of your features that contributed to your modelling career was your height, but you loved the fact that even then, he towered over you.
Ken Sato, the name that had revived Japan’s baseball team, who had acquired a celebrity status after essentially becoming the saviour.
Ken Sato, the man who had kept the audience on the edge of their seats as he scored yet another point in the game.
Ken Sato, the one man who had essentially saved your life while unironically revealing his one kept secret to you.
And Ken Sato, your boyfriend.
Though both of your relationships had to be kept under the radar due to your statuses, you were content with what you’re having now.
Who cares if people think you’re too ‘cold’ and that’s why no one wants you? A small smile played on your lips as you thought, Well, Ken Sato does.
How both of you met was bizarre, to say the least. You were out eating dinner alone, under the disguise that you always wore when you’re just a ‘normal’ citizen, when the ground shook. You were sure that there was a monster attack somewhere, but you were calmly eating dinner when the restaurant’s roof got lifted up.
Ultraman’s giant figure was punching the monster, and you were left gaping at the sudden loss of roof above your head. You quickly finished up your dinner, and when you were about to walk back to your condo, you saw the one thing that you were sure you shouldn’t.
You saw Ultraman shifting back into a human-sized figure and lo and behold, it was Ken Sato. Before, you never bothered to dig deeper into his life because you figured out that you would never be affiliated with the baseball scene. You knew he was famous and that was it.
You couldn’t believe your eyes so you gasped, but your hand wasn’t quick enough to muffle the sound until he turned back to look at you. Both were stone statues for a good minute before he finally spoke up at that time, “Um… can you keep… uh the… secret?”
You sure as hell did keep the secret that even after a drunken stupor, a one night stand then turned into a secret relationship with him, it was still safe with you.
You were so comfortable with him up to the point that it was nice to be yourself with him.
”What’s wrong, baby?” He planted a kiss on your forehead, bringing you back to the present. You inhaled his scent as you buried your face in his chest. “You’re thinking of something?”
You shook your head, tightening your grip around his waist. “Nah,” you mumbled. “Just thinking about the time we first met.”
He chuckled as he ruffled your hair. “I’m sure you did great in your show just now, hmm?”
You stayed quiet, debating or not whether you’d like to tell him what actually happened. He most likely hadn’t seen the show yet, but sooner or later he’d find out. It’s just a matter of now or later.
You were in your comfortable clothes; baggy t-shirt with cargo pants and hair tucked underneath a beanie. In public, people would usually leave you alone when you’re in this attire. Today though, the long pants were also an attempt for you to cover up the growing bruise.
You decided to keep quiet about the bruise, figuring later that he would find out and by then, you hoped it wouldn’t look as bad as it was now. You detached yourself from his hug, careful to not make it so obvious that you were limping. You took a seat, beckoning for him to come over.
Ken traced you with his eyes, lips locked before he smiled. He passed by his seat but didn’t settle down. Instead, he sat cross-legged on the sand, facing you. He leaned forward, crossing his arms with each other on your legs and rested his chin on top. He looked up at you, that same boyish smile he had whenever he was with you.
You looked at him, uttering, “Looks like my boyfriend won yet another game today.” You patted his cheeks, and he quickly grabbed your hands to hold them.
”It was the team, really,” he said humbly, but with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “I was just one of the players.”
”Whatever you say, Mr.-eligible-bachelor-with-thousands-of-adoring-fans-waiting-to-be-picked.” You rolled your eyes.
He chuckled. “Little do they know,” he drew circles on your palm, “that I’m no longer available.”
He stared at you as you looked into the distance, the crashing of the waves filling in the silence between both of you. He stood up, cocking his head towards the shoreline. “Wanna go for a walk?”
You pressed your lips into a thin line, the trouble you had with your feet coming once again. You didn’t get a chance to answer as he knelt in front of you with his back towards you.
He gently pulled you on his back, your legs dangling on either side of his body as he piggybacked you. “Okay, let’s go for a walk,” he said, firmly placing his hands under your thighs.
You said nothing, circling your arms around his shoulders, your face buried at the nape of his neck. You loved the fact that you’re always calm around him, something that you’d always need after spending hours in a fast-paced environment for work every day.
As you walked along the shoreline, both of you pointed out stars shaped like objects, and he stopped at one point when you suddenly said, “I love you so much, do you know that?”
He laughed. “What’s with the sudden confession? I love you too, baby.” He gave your thigh a light slap. “And I’m glad to call you mine.”
”It’s time to go back, isn’t it?” You asked, hoping the answer would be no but knew the world would have to end for it to be.
He threw back his head to get a look of your face before uttering, “Sorry. I have a game tomorrow.”
You pouted slightly but knew that the circumstances wouldn’t change. Whether you’d like it or not, even though you didn’t mind your relationship was playing this way, both of you had your individual lives that didn’t intersect with each other.
Dates would always be a secret with limited areas you could go to, and you had to make sure you’re not seen within the vicinity of each other. If both of you needed to go to each other’s house, it felt more like you’re on an undercover mission.
Today, though, with you still on his back, he held onto you firmly and made his way back to his bike parked nearby some bushes.
”Kenji-“ you started, figuring that maybe he forgot that both of you were supposed to follow separate ways.
”Tell Ms. Tornado you’re staying at my house tonight,” he uttered, placing you on his bike’s seat, taking a helmet and helping you to put it on. “You’re sleeping at my house today.” He checked his watch. “I know that you don’t have any work scheduled for the next few days, right?”
You shook your head slowly, secretly happy that he actually kept track of your schedule. Your eyes searched for his from behind the visor, and you blinked slowly as he tapped your helmet.
“Stay at my house until you’re fully healed. Mina can take care of you.” He’s referring to the supercomputer his parents had programmed. He wore his helmet and leaned forward. If not for both of your helmets in place, he’d be resting his forehead against yours. “Of course, you’re welcome to continue staying until…” he winked, “whenever.”
He positioned himself in front of you, powering up his bike. You leaned forward, circling your arms around his waist.
Before your voice got swallowed by the roar of his bike, you said, “You knew I was hurt.”
Underneath his helmet he smiled. “I always do, baby. Always.”
***
One of the reasons you didn’t want to stay at his house for too long was because you knew you’d be too comfortable. It seemed that after the fiasco you ran into with Mei, Ms. Tornado told you that she was suspended from any work and your agency gave you time off.
So here you were, warm mug of coffee in hand, cross-legged on Ken’s sofa while wearing one of his hoodies. So far from your side, your manager was the only person who’d known about your secret relationship with the baseball player. You’re grateful that your agency was not the type to pry into your private life, so long it didn’t affect your work.
You made yourself right at home at Ken’s house. You could say that you became best friends with Mina, with her occasionally sharing stories about how Ken was when growing up and you helping her around the house.
You sunk in the plush sofa, watching a live show of another one of Ken’s games. You saw him turn to the camera, winked and did a secret sign that was directed at you. Seeing how he’s so expressive, you wondered whether Ken actually wanted your relationship to be public.
Even then, you wondered whether anyone actually noticed that Ken started doing the same pose to the camera whenever he scored a point, after he got into the relationship with you. Maybe the secrecy of your relationship was just held back by a single click to post on the Net.
As far as you knew, only five were aware of this relationship; both of you, your manager, Mina and Kenji’s father.
Rather than your own reputation, you’re worried more for Ken’s image. He just moved here from America, carrying the expectations of everyone who had set their eyes upon him. He rose to fame real quick, while you’d already established your foundation right in your hometown as you were raised through a family generation of models.
Night was approaching, and you did catch a message from Ken updating you that he would be joining the group dinner to celebrate their win first. He promised to come back as soon as the dinner was finished. While waiting for him, you caught Mina’s red bar from the corner of your eyes and you smiled at her.
“Y/N, Ken had actually asked me to ask you one important question.”
“Sure, what is it, Mina?”
Immediately, Mina displayed a projection showing a website of a furniture store. She changed the page to the ‘bed frames’ category.
“I was told that the bed broke last night. Ken told me this morning to ask you which ones would you prefer,” Mina said without any hint of emotion. “He didn’t want to disturb you while you’re sleeping this morning.” After remembering another point she added, “He said make sure to pick the strong ones.”
You, on the other hand, were already burying your face in your hand as your cheeks reddened. “Oh my God,” you groaned. He could go one day, one day, without making you blush. It didn’t help that Mina was delivering the message so robotically. Well, she was one, but you get the point. “Mina, can we talk about this… some other time? Don’t worry,” you pressed your lips into a thin line as you remembered how exactly the bed broke last night. “I’ll tell Ken that you delivered the message well.”
Mina backed up, doing her gesture akin to a nod. “Sure, Y/N.”
You turned your head towards the front door when you heard the door opening, and you stalked your way to your boyfriend, who was holding his jacket in his left hand. Your face fell when you saw that he was wincing, the skin near his eye bruised and his right hand gently pressing over the injury.
“What happened to you?” You fussed over him, requesting Mina to take a bucket of ice and a cloth. “Who did this?”
He winced once again, but grinned soon after. He threw his jacket on the sofa and grabbed your waist, kissing you, hard. It was like he was releasing whatever pent up frustrations he had the whole day, drunk in your kiss that you felt out of breath as soon as he let go.
You saw Mina hovering nearby, clearly not wanting to disturb both of you. You cleared your throat and Ken ran a hand through his hair.
Mina set down the requested bowl of ice and cloth, but Ken shook his head.
Ken uttered, “Mina, can you please bring a bucket of ice to the bathroom? I’d like to soak myself in the tub.”
“Sure, Ken.”
“Ken, you need to tell me what happened to you. You’re injured, for God’s sake!” Your eyebrows knitted in worry, but your boyfriend was displaying the opposite as he was happily dragging you along to the bathroom.
He only gave you a peck on your forehead as Mina helped to prepare the bath.
You wouldn’t let your eyes off his injuries, assessing how badly he was hurt. As Mina excused herself to leave both of you in the bathroom alone, he stripped and stepped into the tub. The water sloshed around as he settled down, and you gritted your teeth as you sat on the edge of the bathtub.
He lifted up his eyebrows, clearly teasing you. “Care to join me?”
You sighed, clearly dissatisfied at how he’s acting while not disclosing about what had happened to him until he returned with a black eye. You crossed your arms, not wanting to submit to his pleading eyes, not until he told you what happened.
Clearly, you were not strong against this man because now both of you were stark naked in the cold water, Ken hugging you from behind as he rested his chin on your shoulder.
“Now tell me what happened.”
Ken obliged. “So we went for a celebratory dinner at this one grilled meat restaurant.” He buried his face at the nape of your neck. “There was this one group of guys who clearly were too drunk. One of them,” you felt his arms tightening around your waist. “Was making inappropriate comments about your body. My girlfriend. Of course I got pissed and punched him. It was an easy fight, but I was unlucky to get this one hit. I won, of course.”
The knot in your stomach got undone, that heavy feeling finally lifting off as you laughed, relieved. You leaned backwards, muttering, “Oh, Kenji. My idiot Kenji. I really thought you had an encounter with a hater, someone that wasn’t afraid to punch you in public just because they hate you. I was so worried. But didn’t your teammates suspect anything? For you to react that way when they’re talking about me.”
“Even if they do find out, it doesn’t matter. Anyone who speaks like that about you deserves to be punched, baby.” The water sloshed around as he turned you around so that both of you were facing each other. He rubbed a thumb over your lips, his mouth lifting at the corners. “And guess what?”
You narrowed your eyes. “What?”
“I got a personal invitation from one of the biggest sports brands here. They’re inviting me for an official photo shoot for their new attire collection.”
“That’s amazing, Kenji!” you exclaimed, and he shook his head, a smile plastered on his face.
“And you know what’s the best part? It’ll be a duo photo shoot, a collab with one of Japan’s famous models.”
“A man?” you asked, still clueless.
“A woman.” He grinned, “With my woman.”
“Oh!” You slapped a hand to your forehead, not believing that you hadn’t caught on when your manager had told you that you would be having an upcoming photo shoot with one of the most famous athletes. No wonder Ms. Tornado looked all smiley when she was delivering the news.
“They were surprised when I agreed to it without much questions,” he said. “Said yes as soon as I heard your name.”
***
Your leg was all healed, Ken’s bruise subsided, and it was finally the day of the photo shoot. Obviously, both of you had to come from a different place and at a different time to avoid any suspicion, so the night before you had returned to your house, despite Ken showing you his puppy eyes to make you stay.
You left without looking back, having to reassure him that both of you would see each other tomorrow.
The day came. In the makeup room, both of you had your lips locked, only a slight nod of greeting when he first came in before you returned your attention back to the mirror in front.
God knew how much Ken Sato was holding back from pulling you into a hug as soon as he saw you in the room.
You saw him from the corner of your eyes, his eyes closed as he let the brushes and artist do their work. You smiled, your mind thinking about how Hina would most likely go crazy once she heard that you had landed a job with this famous baseball player. You figured that you’d let her find out by herself once the official photo shoot had come out.
In the studio, both of you exchanged a formal greeting before the photo shoot started, and you could see that Ken was trying to hide from forming a smile on his face. As the camera started clicking and poses were thrown, you could hear the photographer yelling out encouragement, including ‘Don’t be shy with each other’ and ‘Stand closer’.
You heard Ken slightly snicker, and he whispered to you subtly, his lips slightly brushing your earlobe. You shivered, and he was smart enough to not let anyone see what he was doing. “If only they know how close we are.”
“Last set!” The photographer announced. “This time around, I’d like to see some contact with each other. No looking like you’re two magnets repelling each other, but attracting each other instead.”
“Oh I can do that,” Ken said smugly as he followed the photographer’s instructions.
Funnily enough, he was the one looking like he had more experience in modelling as he followed the photographer’s instructions to a T, while you felt more like a deflated balloon guided by your boyfriend.
You promised you were a professional model, but with him, well, you faltered and posed like you’re a novice instead. Still, you managed to pull through the photo shoot as the photographer gave a thumbs up, fully satisfied with the session today.
You took some time to relax after the photo shoot alone in the dressing room. As you were leaning against the chair, your head turned to look at the door that just opened.
Ken’s head popped up through the space and he waved his hand. “Hey,” he whispered. He looked over his shoulder before slipping into the room, locking the door behind him.
“Ken Sato,” you said, more of a warning. “What if someone sees you coming in?”
“It’s fine,” he walked over to you, and lifted you up in a hug.
Naturally, your legs coiled around him as he firmly placed his arms around you.
“I wanted to say goodbye in person before I leave for my game this evening. You’ll watch the game live, right?”
“Of course, I’ll be there.”
You practically jumped away from him as a knock came on the door and panicked, you opened the closet door before shoving him inside. You shut the closet tight, catching his eyes trailing your movement through the bars before putting a finger over your lips to signal silence. Steadying your breath, you opened the door to find the photographer standing outside.
“Oh hey, uh…” you trailed off as you realised that you didn’t know the camera man’s name.
“I’m Yuichiro,” he extended his hand to offer a handshake, but you politely declined with a nod of your head. “It’s uh,” he nervously chuckled. “I thought that you looked great and I found out that we’re the same age. I was wondering if you would like to, you know, go have coffee sometime. As in, uh, I’d like to take you out sometime.”
“Oh, really?” You swore you could feel Kenji’s stare digging through the man’s skull as you stole a glance towards the closet behind you. “That’s too bad because I uh,” You silently prayed that Ken wouldn’t suddenly spring out of the closet. “I am too busy. I don’t even have time to drink coffee myself.” You gave a professional smile, hoping that the man would take the hint and walk away.
“Not even coffee?”
“Not even coffee.” You sighed, shaking your head. “I don’t drink coffee, actually.”
“Oh.” He looked surprised. “But I thought I saw you drinking coffee this morning at the set.”
You shook your head, pretending to be disappointed. “I’m afraid you are hallucinating, my friend. I don’t drink coffee. Anyway,” you clapped your hand, “I need to get ready to go to my next destination for another photo shoot, so if you could please leave?”
He looked disappointed as he nodded. “I mean, yeah. Please go on your way. Sorry to take your time.”
You smiled politely but as soon as you closed the door and locked it, you jumped over to the closet, the door creaking as you pried it open. You saw Ken sitting on the floor, elbows resting on his knees as his bangs curtained his eyes. You sat down in front of him, moving his bangs out of his vision.
“Kenji…?” you started, trying to gauge his emotions. 
He stayed quiet for a few moments, and you poked his stomach when it seemed like he’s not budging.
“Are you okay?”
He breathed in and out, before looking up. His eyes caught yours, but still you couldn’t read his expressions. “I experienced this new emotion,” he finally said.
You inched forward.
“You’re doing great, baby.” The compliment came out of nowhere that you were slightly taken aback.
“Kenji,” the grin on your face grew wider, “were you jealous?”
He never broke off his stare to you, and you found it so attractive. “I was.” His eyes dropped to your lips. “I was stopping myself from jumping out of the closet and announcing that you’re mine.”
“I am,” you uttered, ruffling his hair. “You better get going. You have a game to win.”
“I sure do.” He stood up and you mirrored his actions. Before he turned to leave, he kissed you on the lips and whispered again as he peppered kisses on your neck. “With this jealousy, let’s just hope the bed won’t break again tonight.”
***
Of course you lied to the photographer to politely decline his advances. Your schedule was free this evening and you had promised Ken you would see his game live. You dressed as inconspicuously as possible, donning on the merchandise jersey they sold to the public.  
Ken had offered you to wear his jersey, but that would practically mean announcing your relationship to the public. Tucking your hair under the cap, putting on fake glasses and looking at yourself in the mirror, you figured how Clark Kent had managed to turn people’s suspicions away from him being the superhero.
Now, you’re just one person among the thousands of show-goers filling up the stadium. You took up your seat, eager to witness the game Ken would be joining. Announcement blared throughout the stadium, signalling that the game was about to start. You heard your boyfriend’s name announced as he stepped onto the field.
Giants’ supporters cheered for him, and you joined in on the hype as you saw him giving his million-dollar smile to the crowd. You waited for the game to start, and truth be told, no matter how many times Ken had explained the rules of the game, anything barely stuck to your brain. Still, you tried your best to support him even though that meant cheering for him blindly whenever the others did.
The crowd went wild again as the Giants scored yet another point.
You got distracted by a notification coming to your phone. You wanted to ignore it, but as you saw Hina’s name as the sender, you had to sit down and open the message. She rarely texts you out of work, so there must have been something out of the ordinary. You felt your heart drop as you read the message, and a link towards a news website was sent together.
Your eyes caught her message first. Oh my God?! You’ve been dating Ken Sato?
You read the headline next. BREAKING NEWS: BASEBALL PLAYER KEN SATO AND SUPERMODEL Y/N IN A RELATIONSHIP?
You stood up together with the rest of the cheering crowd, but you had to wrestle your way through to make your way out of the stadium. You didn’t know what to do, Kenji was still in game and your feet almost gave way as your shaky hands opened the link to read the news.
Everything was summed up in one news article, and you felt your world getting smaller as you saw the pictures of the night Ken had piggybacked you after you hurt your leg, all obviously looking like they were taken in secret. You read through the whole article, your ears deafened by the sound of roaring cheers inside the stadium.
You were standing outside the stadium, and you looked back at the giant screen you could see displaying yet another shot of Ken doing his signature pose to the camera. You turned back to the news article in your hands, and read through the whole thing over and over again. Several lines caught your eyes, and you finally caught on who was behind this.
Photographer Yuichiro handed over the pictures of the two lovebirds having a secret date at the private beach, which was purportedly owned by Ken Sato. From the pictures taken, I’m sure everyone would come to one very obvious conclusion. The question is; do you find the relationship surprising, or are they a perfect match for each other?
You wondered if it was all planned by him; the photo shoot together with Ken. Was he testing to see whether you’d accept a date with him to assume whether you’d have a boyfriend or not?
You wanted to run away. But from what, exactly? Running away wouldn’t solve this problem.
Well, if it turned into a problem.
Cheers erupted again as you returned to the stadium, just in time to see the final score and then celebrating the Giants’ victory. Chanting swimmed through the crowd, and you gripped your phone tightly as you searched for Ken among the players.
You finally spotted him at the bench, and your mind was as equally noisy as the audience around you.
He looked in your direction, trying to search for you but before he could catch your eyes, his shoulder was tapped by a fellow teammate, showing him an article displayed on the screen.
Everything happened fast, you didn’t know that it was possible as your worst fear came to life in front of everyone. The giant screen in the stadium displayed the news article and the pictures of the both of you displayed in a slideshow. You could hear shouts of confusion and gasps among the crowd as all of them were looking at the same thing.
The noise of the crowd died down as Ken made his way to the edge of the field, where an interviewer was waiting to start the session. The topic of the interview was supposed to be about the win at first, but it had clearly turned into a different direction.
The camera focused on Ken, and you knew he was directly looking at you. He looked calm, the practised smile he had on whenever he appeared on screen.
“Ken Sato,” the interviewer started, as he looked into the camera, “The name that is no longer a stranger to every household. His return to Japan brought waves and hope to the Giants. But today,” she turned to him, ��it seemed like you’re the focus on the interview for an entirely different topic. Who knew that this eligible bachelor was actually already taken? I have the man here with me, so, what would you like to say?”
The crowd was obediently silent as they waited for his answer. You felt your heart beating loud in your chest as you, too, anticipated what he would say.
For a split second your mind wondered whether he would vehemently deny the news, but you brushed that thought away. You trusted him.
“I do have a question for everyone here, first, though.” Ken swept his vision across the crowd. “Is it a sin for a celebrity, or at least someone who is quite well known by the public, I mean,” he shrugged, “I don’t wanna sound like I’m boasting or that I’m too full of myself thinking that I’m famous.”
There was a ripple of laughter through the whole crowd.
“Is it wrong for me to be in a relationship?”
Silence. A dread coming over you as you quietly anticipated that there might be protests coming from the crowd. No one spoke up until you heard a female shouting from the crowd, “No, it’s not a sin! Well, we would be slightly sad that our favourite bachelor is no longer available, but you’re still human!”
Your eyes travelled to the female shouting, and realised why the voice was so familiar. It was Hina. She saw you looking at her and she grinned, giving a thumbs-up.
“Thank you, random woman from the crowd,” Ken uttered. He turned back to the camera. “I think that answered the question. I’m still human,” he shrugged, his eyebrows lifting up as he announced, “and I fell in love with Y/N. We are happily in a relationship. I’m proud to say that she’s mine.” His eyes finally fall towards your direction. You could only discern his expressions and gestures from the big screen because he was too far from you. “I love you, Y/N.”
There was a momentary moment of silence that you could hear a pin dropping, and you feared that maybe, the public wouldn’t take it so nicely.
But soon, the whole stadium shook with cheers from the crowd. This time around, they were chanting both Ken's and your names.
Okay, so this was not the reaction that you had expected.
You saw Ken gesturing to you, asking to meet you privately after the game. You nodded, pointing to your phone to say that you would communicate through text.
He sent you a message for the meetup point, and you practically ran towards where he had wanted to meet you.
You saw him at the end of the empty hallway, the noise in the stadium a distant sound now that it was only the two of you. You ran into his arms and he caught you, laughing. You let your breath steady first before saying anything.
“Ken Sato… you…” you started. “You have this way of wording things. I never expected the whole crowd to just agree with you.”
“Hey, look at me.” He tilted your chin, and he gazed upon you. “Like I said, we’re still humans.” He kissed your lips. “And I fell in love with you.”
“Hmm…” You hummed, still feeling slightly worried.
Ken opened the article, scrolled down to the comments and showed them to you. “See, they’re all positive comments.” He cleared his throat, doing his best imitation while reading the comments. “Oh my God, they’re a perfect match for each other! I knew they were dating, it would be weird if they didn't date. Honestly, I don’t know how it happened, but I’m happy for them. Y/N, you’d be better off with me-” He stopped reading when he read one comment that irked him. “You know what, I’m going to report that last comment.”
You burst into laughter seeing how he was tapping furiously at the screen, blowing out an air of satisfaction as he finally reported the comment.
“There, problem solved,” he announced.
“You know that probably some time in the future that there will probably be people who won’t be satisfied.” You sniffed.
“Well that’s too bad.” He bumped his forehead against yours. “Because you’re already mine.”
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itneverendshere · 3 months ago
Text
played me like a clarinet - rafe cameron (three) - finale
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request: "Desperately-on my knees-begging for a ''She's all that'' from 1999, with Popular Rafe x Reader. Ooouff, and you want that soul crushing heartbreak when she finds out about the bet he had made" pairing: rafe x smart!nerdy!reader. warnings: more angst <3; part one here; part two
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Staying away from Rafe was hard.
It was hard before you two tried to be friends and it’s even harder now that you gave him the no-contact ultimatum. Everywhere you went, it felt like he was there, even if he wasn’t. It was in the songs that played on the radio, in the way the sun set over the patio near your dorm, in the way his, now yours, shirts still smelled like him. 
You missed the late-night conversations, the way he’d laugh at your jokes, and how he could read you better than anyone else. But more than anything, you missed the way he made you feel—even if it wasn’t real at first. 
Every time your phone buzzed, you stupidly hoped it was him, even though you knew it wouldn’t be. You’d told him to stop, to leave you alone, and he had respected your boundaries even when it seemed like the last thing he wanted to do. And you’re proud of him for it—for once, he’s doing something right. But you’re mostly proud of yourself too, for sticking to your decision, for not letting him back in so easily.
Still, it doesn’t make it any easier.
You thought giving yourself space would help you move on, help you figure out if you could ever really trust him again. But instead, it just left this space where he used to be. You kept wondering how much of it was real for him—if any of it was. Maybe that’s why staying away felt impossible because a part of you wanted to believe he meant some of it, that his feelings weren’t just part of some game. 
You had to draw the line, to protect yourself from getting hurt all over again. And even though it hurt to keep him out, you knew it was the only way you’d figure out what you really wanted, without him clouding your judgment.
You tried to move on.
Slowly, cautiously, you started going on dates—nothing serious, just enough to remind yourself that there were other people out there, that Rafe wasn’t the only guy who could make you laugh or feel special. Every few weeks, you’d let yourself get dressed up, put on a smile, and meet someone new.
The first date was awkward, more like a practice run than anything else. You spent most of it comparing the guy to Rafe, noticing all the little things that didn’t measure up. It wasn’t fair to the guy, but you couldn’t help it. He wasn’t Rafe, and that’s all you could focus on. You ended the night with a polite hug and a promise to text, but you knew you wouldn’t.
The second date was better, but not by much. The guy was nice, made you laugh a few times, but there was no spark, no connection that made you want to see him again. You tried to be present, to give him a chance, but your mind kept drifting back to Rafe, to what he would say or how he would react to something. By the end of the night, you felt more exhausted than excited.
After that, you took a break. It was too soon, you told yourself. You weren’t ready to move on yet, and that was okay. 
Some days, you almost reached out to him. You’d pick up your phone, scroll through your messages, and your finger would hover over his name. It would be so easy to send a quick text, something casual, just to see how he was doing. But you never did. You knew that one message could ruinl everything you’d worked so hard to build—the distance, the boundaries, the fragile sense of self you were trying to protect.
Instead, you threw yourself into other things. Classes, the cheer squad, hobbies, anything to keep your mind occupied. You spent more time with friends, even though it was hard not to talk about him. You kept the conversations light, steering away from anything that would bring his name up. You didn’t want to be that person who couldn’t stop talking about their ex, who couldn’t let go, even if that’s exactly how you felt inside.
It helped, sometimes.
For brief moments, you’d find yourself genuinely laughing at a joke or losing yourself in a book or a project. But then something small would happen—a song on the radio, a glimpse of someone who looked like him, or the sound of his name in passing—and it would all come rushing back. It wasn’t fair. 
You’d think you’d be used to it by now, but each time it felt like a fresh wound. The memory of his laughter, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, the way he always knew just what to say—it was as if he left a ghost behind, haunting every corner of your life. And in those moments when you’d catch yourself smiling or feeling light, it was like a betrayal. How could you allow yourself to feel joy when he wasn’t there to share it?
It was like trying to run from a shadow that moved with you, always there, no matter how fast you tried to go.
Every time you thought about him, about how he had hurt you and how you were struggling to move on, it felt like stabbing at an old wound, hoping it would heal faster if you just made it worse. The reality was that you missed him in ways you weren’t ready to admit.
Running into him was inevitable. Despite your best efforts to avoid the places he might be, your college was too small, too intertwined with memories of him.
The first time you saw him after the ultimatum was at a party you had reluctantly agreed to attend. You spotted him across the room, laughing with his friends, looking just as carefree as ever. Your heart twisted painfully in your chest, and for a moment, you felt stuck to the ground. But then he looked up, his eyes meeting yours, and the smile slipped from his face.
It was a small moment, one that no one else seemed to notice, but it felt like the all the air in your lungs had been sucked out. You forced yourself to look away, to focus on the conversation happening around you, but it was impossible to ignore the feeling of his eyes on you.
The second time was worse.
You were at the grocery store, just trying to get through your day when you turned a corner and nearly collided with him. The shock of seeing him so close, so unexpectedly, made you want to disappear on the spot.
You both mumbled awkward apologies, neither of you really saying anything of substance, just trying to avoid the awkwardness. But then he asked how you were.
“I’m fine,” you replied, too quickly, too sharply. The lie tasted bitter on your tongue.
He nodded, and for a moment, it looked like he wanted to say more, to reach out and touch you, but he didn’t. You both stood there, trapped in a painful silence, before you finally made an excuse and walked away, leaving him standing there in the aisle.
After that, the encounters became more frequent. You saw him at the beach, in coffee shops, passing by on the street. Each time, it was the same—an awkward exchange, a few forced pleasantries, and then a quick retreat. It was like the universe was conspiring against you, refusing to give you the space you so desperately needed.
And each time, it hurt just a little bit more. Seeing him in these mundane, everyday moments, like nothing had changed, made it harder to keep up the distance you’d built. It reminded you of all the times when being around him had felt natural, easy, like he was just supposed to be there.
But the worst part was the way he looked at you. Jessica had told you before. He’d never looked at any girl like that. And you stupidly held onto that tiny hope even if you shouldn’t. 
You’d been trying to keep it together all night, but the sight of Jessica and Tyler laughing together, so effortlessly in love, was making you bleed inside. The drinks kept coming, one after another, until the room started to blur around you. You didn’t even notice how much you were drinking—only that it was easier to keep swallowing than to think about Rafe. 
But the alcohol wasn’t enough to quiet your thoughts.
Instead, it seemed to amplify them, making everything feel sharper, more painful. Jessica and Tyler’s whispered words of affection, the way his hand rested on her thigh, the way she looked at him with pure adoration—You couldn’t stop thinking about how that should have been you and Rafe.  
By the time you realized you were too far gone, it was late. You stumbled as you stood up, the room spinning wildly around you. Someone—Jessica, maybe—asked if you were okay, but their voice was muffled, distant. You tried to nod, to say something reassuring, but your legs buckled beneath you, sending you crashing back into your chair.
"Whoa, easy there," Jessica’s voice was sharper now, filled with concern. She crouched down in front of you, her hands steadying you. “You’re not okay. We need to get you out of here.”
You tried to shake your head, to insist that you were fine, but the words wouldn’t come. The room was tilting, spinning, and you couldn’t focus on anything. Your vision was blurry, your limbs heavy, and you realized, with a sinking feeling, that you were too drunk to take care of yourself. You couldn’t even stand up, let alone make it home.
Panic started to set in. This wasn’t supposed to happen. You weren’t supposed to lose control like this. You weren’t supposed to need help.
“Jess… I’m fine…” The words slurred out of your mouth, but even you didn’t believe them.
“No, you’re not.” Jessica’s voice was firm now, almost authoritative. She glanced around, clearly trying to figure out what to do. The other girls were watching, their laughter fading into worried murmurs, “Baby, can you go and get her some water and sugar, please?”
She gently guided you to lean back, her hand on your shoulder to steady you. You tried to focus, tried to push through the fog in your mind, but everything was slipping away, your thoughts swirling together in a jumbled mess.
“Hey, stay with me, okay?” Her voice was softer now, almost pleading. She wasn’t just a concerned friend at this moment; she was scared. You’d never seen her like this before. 
“I—” You started, but the words tangled in your throat. You wanted to tell her that you were sorry, that you didn’t mean to ruin the night, that you just wanted to stop thinking about him for a couple of hours, but all that came out was a garbled sound that barely resembled a word.
“Shh, it’s okay,” she soothed, her thumb brushing lightly against your arm. “We’ll get you out of here. It’s gonna be okay.”
Tyler returned with the water and sugar, and Jessica took the glass, trying to get you to drink. The water felt cool against your lips, but swallowing was harder than it should’ve been. You could feel yourself teetering on the edge of consciousness.
“Come on, just a little more,” Jessica urged. You managed a few more sips before the glass slipped from your grasp, water sloshing onto your lap.
“Jess, I—” You tried again, but before you could finish, you heard another voice, one that sent a jolt through your foggy mind.
He was there, right in front of you, and you knew it was him without needing to open your eyes.
“Jesus Christ,” you heard him mutter. He crouched down, gently lifting your chin so you were forced to meet his eyes. “What the hell happened?”
“She had too much to drink,” Jessica explained quickly, her tone defensive, as if she expected him to start blaming her. “We were just about to get her out of here.”
You tried to smile, to play it off like it was no big deal, but all that came out was a shaky breath. “Too much… too much, Rafe…”
“I can see that,” he said, his tone softening as he brushed a strand of hair from your face. He turned to Jessica, his voice all business now. 
You didn’t know how long he had been standing there. Was your brain torturing you? Making you believe he was there?
His jaw tightened, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he knelt down beside you, his hands grabbing your trembling ones. “Hey,” he said, his voice softer now, as if he was afraid you might break into pieces if he spoke too loudly. “I’m gonna get you home, okay?”
You wanted to say no, to tell him that you didn’t need him, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, you just nodded, too tired and too dizzy to fight it.
He exchanged a look with Jessica and she sighed, her worry morphing into something closer to relief. “I’ll help you get her to the car.”
Your legs were useless, and you sagged heavily against his chest. He didn’t hesitate, scooping you up in his arms like you weighed nothing, cradling you against him. His scent surrounded you, familiar and comforting, and despite everything, you found yourself leaning into him, letting your head rest against his shoulder.
“I’ve got you,” he murmured, his breath warm against your temple. “I’m gonna get you out of here, okay?”
You nodded weakly, too exhausted to argue. Your eyes fluttered shut as he carried you out, the sounds of the party fading away behind you.
The ride to your dorm was a blur. 
You were vaguely aware of Rafe’s arm around you, of Jessica sitting on your other side, rubbing your back in small circles. The motion of the car made your stomach churn, and you had to close your eyes to keep from getting sick. Uber or not, you weren’t about to ruin someone else’s car. 
When you finally arrived, he practically carried you inside while Jess fumbled with your keys before pushing the door open.
He led you to your bed, easing you down onto the mattress.
“I’ll stay with her,” he muttered, his voice leaving no room for argument. Jessica hesitated, looking between the two of you, before nodding slowly.
“Call me if you need anything,” she said to Rafe, squeezing his arm before she left.
You were barely aware of her leaving, still too drunk to process much of anything. He knelt down beside your bed, brushing a stray hair from your face. 
“You’re gonna be okay,” he murmured, his voice a soothing lullaby.
You wanted to say something, to tell him that you didn’t need him, that you were fine on your own.
You felt your bottom lip tremble. 
He noticed the change immediately, his blue eyes softening as he continued to gently brush the hair from your face. “Hey, it’s okay,” he whispered, his thumb lightly tracing the curve of your jaw. “Just breathe.”
But that only made it worse. You could feel the tears welling up as you realized just how much you’d missed this—missed him. The safety of his presence, the way he always seemed to know what you needed before you did.
Your stomach churned, the nausea that had been building since you first sat in the car finally reaching a breaking point.
“Rafe,” you mumbled, your voice weak and shaky, “I think I’m gonna—”
He reacted instantly, his arms tightening around you as he quickly looked the room. “Okay, okay, just breathe,” he said, “You’re gonn be fine.”
But breathing was the last thing on your mind as the room started spinning faster. You tried to push away from him, your hand gripping his shirt as you fought to keep it down.
“Rafe, I need to throw up,” you managed to gasp, panic rising in your chest.
He didn’t hesitate, scooping you up from the bed and hurrying toward the bathroom. You barely registered the fact he was touching you again after so long, your mind solely focused on the nausea.
He got you to the bathroom just in time, guiding you to the toilet as you collapsed in front of it. He held your hair back with one hand, the other rubbing soothing circles on your back as you retched, the sound of it echoing harshly in the small space.
“It’s okay, I’m right here,” he murmured, grounding you as you emptied your stomach. You could feel the heat of his hand on your back, the gentle way he kept your hair out of the way.
When it was over, you slumped against the cool porcelain, too exhausted to care about anything other than the relief of having the nausea finally subside. Rafe handed you a damp washcloth, and you pressed it against your face, the coolness soothing against your overheated skin.
“Better?” he asked softly, crouching down beside you. 
You nodded weakly, unable to meet his eyes. “Yeah,” you whispered, your voice hoarse. “Thanks.”
He didn’t say anything, just stayed close, while you avoided his gaze entirely. The room was quiet now, the only sound the slow, steady rhythm of your breathing as you tried to regain some control.
“I’m sorry.”
You felt embarrassed, and vulnerable in a way you hadn’t expected, and you hated every second of it.
“Stop apologizing,” Rafe said gently, his hand still resting on your back. 
“Can you… can you stay over?” 
You didn’t want to be alone, not tonight, not with the way your heart was aching.
Rafe’s eyes softened, the way they did only for you, and for a moment, you thought he might agree, that he might stay and help you forget, even just for a little while. 
But then he shook his head, his expression pained.
“I can’t,” he said, his voice strained, like it hurt him to say it. “You know I can’t, sweets.”
You tried to hold it together, but it was no use. Before you could stop yourself, you were crying—quiet, heartbreaking sobs that you couldn’t control.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered as he reached out, brushing the tears from your cheeks, but it only made you cry harder. “I’m so sorry.”
You couldn’t even respond, the words tangled up in your throat. It wasn’t just that he wouldn’t stay; it was everything—the confusion, the heartbreak, the way you felt like you were losing him all over again, even though he was right there in front of you.
“Please don’t cry,” Rafe pleaded, his voice breaking. He pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly against him. “I hate seeing you like this.”
You buried your face in his chest, the sobs shaking your entire body. The warmth of his touch, the familiar scent of him—it was too much, too close to everything you’d been trying to avoid. But you couldn’t pull away. You didn’t want to.
“I just… I just miss you,” you choked out, the words spilling from you in a broken whisper. “I miss you so much, Rafe.”
“I know,” he murmured, his voice cracking. “I miss you too.”
You clung to him, your fingers gripping his shirt like it was the only thing keeping him from disappearing. The tears wouldn’t stop, and neither would the ache in your chest, the one that had been there ever since you’d forced yourself to let him go.
“I wish things were different,” his usually bright eyes were dimmed, his brows drew together as if he was in pain. He looked at you like he was memorizing every detail, like he was afraid this might be the last time, “I keep hurting you.”
His hands trembled slightly as he pulled back just enough to look at you, his touch gentle as his fingers cradled your face. His thumbs brushed away the tears again, but they kept coming, fresh and spilling over. His lips parted as if he wanted to say something, but all that came out was a ragged breath.
“Please don’t hate me more for this,” he whispered, his voice rough, barely holding back. His eyes searched yours, desperate for reassurance, for something to cling to in this moment that felt like it was tearing you both apart.
“I could never hate you,” you whispered back, the words catching in your throat as the tears continued to fall. It hurt to say it, to admit it out loud.
He left that night.
You had almost convinced yourself that it was better this way, that moving on, that he did you a favor that night by leaving, that keeping him out of your life was the only solution. 
Staying away from you was killing him. 
⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷⁀➷ೃ
Rafe spent his days trying to distract himself, throwing himself into his studies for the first time in his life, into parties, into anything that would take his mind off you. 
But nothing worked. Every time he saw something that reminded him of you, it was like a punch to the gut—a song you liked, a place you used to go together, even the smell of the ocean would bring memories crashing back. He missed you so much it hurt.
And when he saw you, it was even worse. The first time he ran into you after the break, it felt like the world had stopped spinning. He was at a party, trying to forget, trying to lose himself in the noise and the crowd, when he saw you across the room. For a moment, he thought he was imagining it, that his mind was playing tricks on him. But then your eyes met his, and his heart almost stopped.
You were as beautiful as ever, maybe even more so, but there was something different about you—something guarded, distant. But before he could even think about crossing the room to talk to you, you looked away, your expression closing off, leaving him standing there like an idiot, staring after you. 
He’d told you he’d wait for you and he intended on keeping that promise. He couldn’t stop imagining what it would be like to have you back, to hold you, to tell you how much he loved you, how sorry he was. He’d never felt this way about anyone before, never been this wrecked over a girl, but you weren’t just any girl. 
Rafe had never been good at groveling, at admitting he was wrong, but for you, he’d do anything. He’d get on his knees and beg if that’s what it took. He didn’t care about his pride anymore, not when it meant losing you. He was willing to do whatever it took to make things right, to prove to you that he was serious, that he loved you more than he ever thought possible.
But every time he saw you, he felt that hope slipping further away. The look in your eyes, the way you avoided him, it all felt like a final nail in the coffin. And yet, he couldn’t let go, couldn’t stop himself from yearning for you, from wanting you back in his life. He was going out of his mind, torn between respecting your wishes and fighting for you with everything he had.
Rafe knew he had to do something different, something that would show you just how much he had changed. The problem was, he didn't know what that was. He needed to find a way to prove to you that he was serious, that he was willing to put in the work to make things right.
So he started small.
He stopped going to parties, and stopped trying to drown out his feelings in distractions. Instead, he focused on becoming the person he thought you deserved—the person he knew he could be if he just tried. He started paying more attention in class, showing up on time, and actually studying. He even started volunteering, something he’d never done before, just to keep his mind occupied with something productive, something that wasn’t about him for once.
But the real change came when he began working on himself. He started seeing a therapist, something he’d always scoffed at before. He had a lot of baggage, a lot of unresolved issues that had driven him to hurt you in the first place, and he knew he needed to work through them if he ever wanted to be good enough for you.
It wasn’t easy. Therapy forced him to confront things he’d buried deep, things he’d avoided dealing with for years. Family trauma and all. But he stuck with it, because he knew it was the only way to get better, to be the kind of man you could trust again.
Slowly, he started to see changes in himself. He was more patient, more understanding, and more aware of how his actions affected others. He didn’t expect you to notice any of it—he was doing it for himself as much as for you—but he hoped that maybe, just maybe, you’d see that he was trying.
And then he had to pick you up that night.
He had never seen you drunk before, you’d always preferred your fruity punch over any other alcoholic drink. He’d always known you as strong, independent, someone who could hold your own. Seeing you like that—broken, hurting—made something in him snap. Was this his fault? Had he done this to you? 
He knew he couldn’t stay that night. As much as it killed him to leave, he understood that this was part of growing too—the part where he learned to respect your boundaries, to give you space even when all he wanted was to hold you and never let go. You’d hate yourself the next day. He was doing you both a favor. 
The next morning, Rafe didn’t text or call. He wanted to give you time, to process everything without the pressure of him hovering. Instead, he threw himself back into his routine, keeping himself busy but always with you at the back of his mind. He wondered if you remembered anything from the night before—how close he’d come to breaking down when you asked him to stay, how it had taken every ounce of self-control to walk away from you again.
Days passed, and he didn’t hear from you. It felt like a new kind of torture, but he stayed strong, if this was part of the process then so be it, he needed to be patient. 
He didn’t want to push you, didn’t want to make you feel like you owed him anything. But he couldn’t stop hoping that maybe, just maybe, you were thinking about him too.
So when the call came that you were in the hospital, his heart nearly fell through his ass. He didn’t think, didn’t hesitate—he just went.
The thought of you being hurt, of something happening to you, was enough to make him speed over the legal limit. He needed to see you, to make sure you were okay, even if it was the last thing he did.
When he got there, his heart clenched tightly in his chest as he pushed through the doors of the hospital. He hated hospitals, hated everything about them—the smell, the sterile white walls. But none of that mattered now. All he could think about was you.
The nurse at the front desk directed him to your room, and he practically sprinted down the hallway, his mind racing with a thousand worst-case scenarios. He’d been too fucking anxious to ask if you were okay, as soon as your name and the word hospital registered, he was rushing over. When he finally reached your door, he paused, his hand hovering over the doorknob. What if you didn’t want to see him? What if you told him to leave?
But then he heard your pretty voice, soft and familiar. He pushed open the door and there you were, sitting up in the hospital bed with a sprained ankle, looking more frustrated than hurt. He breathed out in relief, so intensely it made his knees weak.
“Rafe?” you blurted out, your eyes widening in surprise as you saw him standing there. “What are you doing here?”
He took a step closer, “They called me. I’m still your emergency contact.”
“Oh,” you muttered, looking down at your hands. “I didn’t realize.”
He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. “Are you okay?”
You nodded, but he could see the tension in your shoulders, the way you were trying to hold it together. “It’s just a sprained ankle. Nothing serious. Did a little too much during practice."
Rafe nodded, but he didn’t move, didn’t say anything. He couldn’t. The sight of you in that hospital bed, even for something as minor as a sprained ankle killed him. 
“Hey,” you said softly, your voice pulling him out of his thoughts. “You don’t have to stay. I’m fine. Really.”
But he couldn’t leave. Not now, not when you were right in front of him, looking so small and vulnerable. He shook his head, his voice coming out rougher than before, “I’m not leaving.”
You blinked up at him, “But you don’t have to—”
“I’m not leaving,” he repeated, his voice firm. “I know you can handle yourself, but I’m staying.”
Surprisingly, you didn’t kick him out.  “Okay.”
He pulled up a chair beside your bed, settling in like he had no intention of going anywhere. The room was quiet, the only sound the faint beeping of the machines and the murmur of voices from the hallway outside. For a moment, neither of you said anything.  It was strange, being this close yet so far away from you. He glanced at you from the corner of his eye, taking in the way yours had softened, the way the lines of worry on your face were starting to smooth out. You looked tired like you’d been lacking sleep. He wished he could help, even if just for a little while.
“You know,” he said quietly, breaking the silence, “I used to think I was pretty good at taking care of myself. But then I met you, and I realized I’d never really let anyone take care of me before. Not like you did.”
“Rafe—”
“No, let me finish,” he interrupted gently, “I’m still here. I’ll always be here, even if all I can do is sit in a hospital room with you and make sure you’re okay.”
You looked down at your hands, a small, sad smile tugging at the corners of your lips.
“I missed you,” you whispered, the words so quiet he almost didn’t hear them.
His breath caught in his throat, his heart squeezing painfully at the admission. “I missed you too,” he replied, his voice thick with emotion.
“Thank you for that night.”
He shifted slightly in his chair, leaning a little closer, careful not to overwhelm you but needing to be nearer all the same.
“I didn’t do anything special,” he murmured, though his mind replayed the events of that night. The helplessness he’d felt seeing you in that state, knowing there was little he could do to make it better. He hadn’t been sure then if you’d even wanted him there, but he’d helped you anyway. He couldn’t leave you, not when you needed someone—when you needed him.
“You were there,” a tear slipped down your cheek, and he instinctively reached out, his thumb gently wiping it away. The touch was soft, almost reverent, and it made your breath get stuck in your throat.  “That’s more than enough.”
You leaned into his touch for a moment, savoring the comfort it brought, even though it hurt to let yourself feel it, “Just glad you’re safe.”
“Why did you come?”
“Because I love you,” he admitted, tired of carrying the truth inside him, “I know I screwed up—God, I know that. But I’ve spent every day since trying to be better, trying to be the kind of man you deserve. And I know I have a long way to go, but I’m not giving up. Not on you. Not unless you ask me to.”
“You love me?”
Your voice sounded so meek, so unsure it made him want to punch himself in the face. This was entirely his doing. 
He nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. He looked nervous, and vulnerable, “Yeah,” he said, “I do. I’m in love with you, I just—” He hesitated, searching for the right words. “I didn’t know how to say it, or maybe I was too scared to. Didn’t want to make you think I was saying it to save my ass, y’know?”
You’d always wondered what it would be like to hear those words from him, to have him admit that he cared for you in the same way you cared for him. 
“I didn’t want to push you,” he continued, fingers intertwined, “But I couldn’t keep it in anymore. I couldn’t let you think that I didn’t care, that I didn’t want this, want you.”
You blinked, trying to process everything he was saying. This was the Rafe you’d always hoped for—the one who was honest and unafraid to show his emotions. But it was also the Rafe who had hurt you, who had made mistakes that left scars you weren’t sure had fully healed.
“Rafe, I—” you started, but the words caught in your throat.
“You don’t have to say it, sweets. It’s okay.”
“I’m scared,” you admitted, your voice shaking. “I’m scared of getting hurt again, of going back to that place where everything fell apart.”
He had changed—you could see it in the way he carried himself, in the way he spoke to you. He wasn’t the same Rafe who had hurt you.
"I’m not asking you to trust me right away," he continued, though there was a hint of desperation in it. "I know I need to earn that. But please, give me a chance to prove it. I don’t want to lose you again."
"You can’t wait for me forever.”
“I’d wait for you a lifetime. I told you,” His jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck tensing when he spoke, as if he was trying not to cry, “If you ever want me, I’m yours.”
His hands, usually so restless, were still now, resting on his knees as he leaned slightly forward in his chair. You saw the man he was trying to be—the man he wanted to be for you. He wasn’t perfect, not by a long shot, but he was trying. And that had to count for something.
“Even if I made you wait until we’re eighty and grey?”
Rafe let out a breathless laugh, the sound strained but genuine, “Even then,” he whispered, his voice barely above a breath. “You’re it for me.”
It scared you how much you wanted to believe him, how much you wanted to pull him into your arms and tell him that he was it for you too. He reached out, his hand hovering near yours, waiting for you to close the distance. You hesitated for only a moment before your fingers intertwined with his.  It felt right, like coming home after being lost for so long.
He squeezed your hand gently, his eyes searching yours for any sign of what you were thinking, feeling. He looked like he was holding his breath.
“I love you too.”
It was still scary, still uncertain, but you realized that nothing worth having ever came easy. And Rafe, with all his flaws and all his efforts to be better, was worth it.
He exhaled, his shoulders sagging in relief, “I don’t deserve you,” he said whispered, lips pressed against your fingers, “But I’m going to spend every day trying to. I swear, I’ll never stop trying.”
You closed your eyes, “You’re gonna make me cry.”
Rafe’s grip on your hand tightened, as if he could physically hold you together through sheer will alone. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—” he started, his voice panicked, but you shook your head, cutting him off.
“No, it’s okay,” you whispered, opening your eyes to meet his. “I just… it’s been a long time since I let myself feel this way.”
He nodded, his thumb gently brushing against the back of your hand in slow, soothing circles. “You don’t have to hold back with me. Not anymore. Whatever you’re feeling, it’s okay.”
The tears you’d been holding back spilled over, running down your cheeks. Rafe was there instantly, his other hand reaching up to gently cup your face, his thumb brushing away the tears with a tenderness that made your heart hurt.
“I’m so sorry,” his voice cracked, “For everything I put you through.”
You leaned into his touch, the warmth of his hand grounding you, giving you the strength to keep going. “I was so miserable Rafe,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “Scared that if I let you back in, I’d get hurt again. Scared that I’d lose you all over again.”
“I know,” he said, his forehead resting against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the small space between you. “And I promise you, I’m not going anywhere this time. I’m here, and I’m not going to let you down.”
“I want to try.”
Rafe’s breath hitched, and he pulled back slightly to look at you, his eyes searching yours as if he couldn’t  believe what he was hearing. “You do?”
You nodded, a small, tentative smile forming on your lips. “I do. But we need to take it slow, okay? I need time.”
“Of course,” he said quickly, his eyes bright with hope. “We’ll go as slow as you need. I don’t fucking care sweets, I’m not leaving.”
You weren’t just giving him another chance—you were giving yourself one too. A chance to heal, to forgive, and to find your way back to each other.
Rafe pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, lingering for a moment as if sealing the promise between you. “We’ve got this,” he murmured against your skin. “It’s you and me, okay?”
“You and me.”
Rafe’s eyes softened, and a genuine smile tugged at his lips, one that reached his eyes and made them crinkle at the corners. It was a smile you hadn’t seen in a long time, and seeing it made you want to bawl all over again. His hand cradled your cheek, his fingers tracing delicate circles on your jaw as his eyes locked onto yours, silently asking for permission, for forgiveness, for a chance to be close to you again. And when his lips finally brushed against yours, whatever pain you were feeling on your ankle disappeared. 
The kiss was soft, tentative at first, like he was afraid you might pull away, afraid to push too far too soon. But the moment your lips pressed back against his, that tentative touch deepened. Rafe’s hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as if he couldn’t stand to be apart from you even for a second. You could feel the desperation in the way his lips moved against yours, the way his breath hitched when you parted your lips to let him in.
Just as you were about to lose yourself in him, the door to your room swung open with a creak. You both froze, lips still touching, as someone cleared their throat.
You pulled away from each other reluctantly, your cheeks flushed, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps. Your eyes met Rafe’s and you saw the same blush of color on his face, the same love-sick expression that you were sure mirrored your own.
The doctor stood in the doorway, a clipboard in hand, a bemused smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Well, I see you’re feeling better.”
Rafe cleared his throat, stepping back slightly, his hand still lingering on your arm as if he couldn’t bring himself to let go just yet. “Uh, yeah, she’s doing great,” he mumbled.
“You must be the boyfriend.”
You couldn’t help the grin that took over, “Yeah. He is.”
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nhlclover · 3 months ago
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𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐄𝐖𝐒 | 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐍𝐍 𝐇𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐄𝐒
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summary: you and quinn finally break the news of your relationship to your families, bracing for their reactions while hoping for acceptance.
warnings: mostly fluff, jack luke and trevor being weird and trevor being overprotective, technically an age gap but not really (2 years), happy ending !
word count: 2.12k
Your stomach twisted with nerves as Quinn drove down the winding road to the lake house. Normally the trip to the lake house would bring waves of excitement, but the only thing you were feeling right now was anxious.
You met Quinn when you were sixteen, back when your family moved to Plymouth for Trevor’s hockey. It was through Trevor that you met the Hughes. During your time in Michigan, the Hughes’ became like a second family. Countless hours were spent at their house, watching games together, and sharing meals. It was during those years that your and Quinn’s friendship deepened. However, it wasn’t until a couple of years later when you reconnected in Vancouver that your friendship evolved into something more.
When you moved to Vancouver for work, you reconnected with Quinn and it felt like no time had passed. Initial coffee meet-ups turned into dinners then into dates. The transition from friends to more-than was natural and almost seamless as if you had always been meant to be together. Your friends in Vancouver remarked how perfect you seemed for each other; Quinn’s reserved and gentle nature balanced your outgoing and energetic personality.
Despite this, you couldn’t seem to shake the nerves that seemed to fill every inch of your body. This was because your brother and Quinn’s brothers didn’t know about the two of you yet.
It wasn’t that you didn’t want to tell them, in fact, you couldn’t wait for them to know and to witness their reactions when you told them. But with those thoughts came a rush of anxiety. You knew how protective Trevor could be over you, being wary of anyone who got close to you. The Hughes brothers, on the other hand, had known you for so long that it felt strange to think of them seeing you in a different light. The idea of their possible disapproval, or worse, pulling apart your chosen family, made your stomach churn.
“Hey,” Quinn said, his soft voice pulling you out of your daydream. You glanced over at Quinn, whose eyes were flicking back and forth between you and the road. “Everything will be fine.”
You let out a breath of air you weren’t aware you were holding. “I just… what if they aren’t okay with it?”
“Y/n… they’ll be happy for us. Stop worrying.” Quinn said, his eyes settling on the road. His calm demeanour was usually a source of comfort, but today it made you feel even more on edge. He reached over and squeezed your hand, a small gesture that sent a wave of warmth through you.
You nodded, silently wishing you could share his confidence. The lake house held so many memories, but this trip felt different. Maybe it was the significance of the moment—returning to a place where so many of your memories with the Hughes were made, but now as Quinn’s partner. The weight of it all felt overwhelming.
As the lake house came into view, your heart raced. The picturesque setting was just as you remembered, the sun glistening off the water, the house nestled in between the pines. Quinn parked the car between Jack and Trevors and you both stepped out, the fresh air coming off the lake instantly enveloping your lungs.
You grabbed your bags from the trunk, heading up towards the house where you spotted your twin brother and the rest of the Hughes family lounging on the front porch. They all greeted you with enthusiastic smiles and waves, unaware of the bombshell you were about to drop.
“Hey, you guys!” Trevor grinned, bounding off the porch towards the two of you. “How was the drive?”
“Not bad,” you replied, giving Trevor a hug. “Traffic wasn’t too bad.”
Quinn greeted his brothers before passing them off to you. Luke and Jack pulled you into a group hug, the older of the two giving you a small noogie. “It’s about time you two got here, we were beginning to think you got lost.” Luke joked.
“Thanks again for travelling with her man,” Trevor said, clapping a hand on Quinn’s shoulder. “I hope she wasn’t a bother or anything.”
You glanced at Quinn, suppressing a smile towards the irony of Trevor’s comment. Little did your brother know that Quinn had been the biggest source of comfort throughout the trip, helping to ease the anxiety brought on by the prospect of telling everyone about you and Quinn.
“No, not at all,” Quinn replied. “She was good company.”
“Come on, let’s get inside,” Jack said, grabbing one of your bags and leading the way to the house. “Mom and Dad are in the kitchen, they’ve been waiting for the two of you.”
As you walked through the front door, the comforting aroma of the lake house hit you, and you couldn’t help but smile. It was these small, comforting details that made the lake house feel like home. Ellen and Jim greeted you warmly, pulling you both into hugs and insisting you sit down and relax.
“So, how’s Vancouver treating you?” Ellen asked.
“Really well,” you replied, glancing at Quinn. “Work is great, and the city is beautiful. I’ve been lucky to have Quinn show me around a lot.”
“Oh, I’m sure he has,” Jim said with a knowing smile. “You know, I’m glad the two of you are still so close.”
You felt your cheeks flush as you caught Quinn’s eye, his expression reassuring yet slightly amused. You knew in your chest that it was now or never. It was only going to get worse the longer you put it off. You took a deep breath, feeling Quinn’s hand gently rest on the small of your back as he stepped up beside you.
“Actually,” you began, your voice wavering just a bit, “there’s something we wanted to tell you all.”
The room fell silent, all eyes landing on you and Quinn. You saw Trevor’s eyes glance down to Quinn’s hand and then back to your face, a confused expression on his. You glanced at him, and he gave you a small nod, encouraging you to continue.
“Quinn and I are…we’re together,” you said, the words tumbling out faster than you intended. “As in, we’re dating.”
For a moment, there was complete silence. You could see the wheels turning in Trevor’s head, his expression shifting from surprise to something unreadable. Luke and Jack exchanged glances, and Ellen’s face broke into a warm smile.
“Well, it’s about time,” she said, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “I always thought you two would make a great couple.”
Jim nodded, a small smile appearing on his lips. “Congratulations you two, we’re happy for you.”
You felt a small weight lift off your shoulders at the positive reaction from two people who were practically your parents but felt it fall right back down when you glanced over at the boys, all three of them looking shell-shocked.
“Wait, what?” Jack finally said, looking between you and Quinn. “You’re serious?”
Quinn nodded, his hand now tracing comforting circles on your back. “Yeah, we are.”
Trevor remained silent, his gaze fixed on Quinn. You could see the struggle in his eyes as he processed the information. The room felt heavy with the weight of unspoken thoughts and emotions.
“Well, this is… unexpected,” Luke said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean, I’m happy for you guys, just… wow.”
Jack nodded in agreement. “Yeah, same here. Just caught us off guard.”
The rest of the evening was filled with awkward conversations and forced smiles. Jim and Ellen did their best to keep the atmosphere light, but the tension was palpable. Every time Quinn held your hand in his or sidled yourself under Quinn’s arm, you could feel the tense glances from them. Discomfort radiated from every one of them.
As night fell and everyone started heading to bed, you couldn’t shake the unease. You lay awake, replaying the day’s events in your mind. Quinn had repeatedly given you reminders that everything would turn out okay and that they would come around eventually. But even as Quinn lay quietly beside you, his steady breathing reflecting his attitude from throughout the day, the attempts at comfort couldn’t fully erase the lingering anxiety.
The next morning, you awoke after little sleep, your racing mind keeping you awake throughout the night. You knew you couldn’t go on with feeling this way around the others. You descended the stairs, following the soft hum of conversation out to the porch where you found Trevor, Jack, and Luke sipping from steaming mugs. Taking a deep breath, you walked over and sat down, the cool morning air helping to steady your nerves.
“‘Morning,” you said softly, pulling the sleeves of Quinn’s hoodie down over your hands.
The three boys mumbled ‘good mornings’, not one of them bothering to look up from their mugs. You huffed, now feeling more annoyed than anxious that this had continued into the morning. “Can we talk?”
Trevor glanced at you, his expression unreadable. “Sure.”
You took a moment to gather your thoughts before continuing. “I know yesterday was a lot to take in, and I just wanted to apologize if it felt sudden. But I need you all to understand how important this is to me. Quinn and I, we really care about each other.”
Luke sighed, setting his mug down on the side table. “We’re not upset, Y/N. It’s just… surprising. We’ve known you for so long… it’s just weird to think of you two as more than friends.”
Jack leaned forward in his chair, his expression soft. “And-and it’s not that we don’t support you… it’s just unexpected. But if you’re happy, then we’re happy.”
You smiled, feeling a bit of relief wash over you. However, you still felt a force pushing back in the form of your twin sitting in the chair across from you. You turned to Trevor, leaning forward to try and capture his gaze, which remained locked on the water. You could see conflict in his eyes, the protective older brother wrestling with the reality of the situation.
“Trevor?” you prompted gently.
He finally looked at you, his eyes searching yours for a moment before he sighed. “It’s not that I don’t want you to be happy, Y/N. I do. It’s just… Quinn’s my boy. If something goes wrong, it’s going to mess things up for all of us.”
You chuckled softly, reaching out and gently placing a hand on Trevor’s knee. “I get that you’re worried, Trev. But Quinn and I have thought about this. We know the risks, and we’re committed to making this work. He makes me happy, and I want you to see that.”
Trevor opened his mouth to speak but shut it and sighed instead. “I just… I don’t want to see you get hurt. And I don’t want to lose one of my best friends.”
“You won’t lose him,” you reassured him. “If anything, this will bring us all closer. But I need you to trust me. Trust us.”
Trevor studied your face for a long moment before finally nodding. “Okay. I trust you. But if he ever does anything to hurt you…” “I won’t, I promise.” You all turned to the doorway where a sleepy-looking Quinn stood. He came over to you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder.
Trevor sighed, rubbing his face with his hands. “Alright, alright. I get it. I’m just being the overprotective brother, I guess. It’s going to take some time to get used to this.”
“Well, now that we’ve gotten the serious stuff out of the way,” Jack said, breaking the tension with a grin, “who’s ready for some breakfast? I’m pretty sure Mom made pancakes.”
As you all made your way inside, the atmosphere felt lighter. Breakfast was a blend of easy conversation and laughter, the expected teasing coming in steady doses. The rest of the day felt like life was back to normal, the initial shock seemed to wear off, replaced by the warmth and support of both your real and chosen family.
As the sun began to set, painting the sky with hues of pink and orange, you found yourself sitting on the dock with Quinn, your feet dangling in the water. The events of the day played in your mind, the change in events now bringing you comfort.
“I told you it would be okay,” Quinn said softly, his hand intertwining with yours.
You leaned your head on his shoulder, a content sigh escaping your lips. “You were right. I just needed to get out of my own head.”
Quinn pressed a kiss to your temple, his voice filled with affection. “That’s what I’m here for.”
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seiwas · 11 days ago
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you're the reason (i got a weakness) | miya atsumu
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wc: 2.9k
summary: it’s not that atsumu doesn't like you dressing up like this—in fact, he loves it. just not when you're fighting. not when he can't even call you "baby".
contains: post-timeskip atsumu, arguments and atsumu feeling really sorry, flashbacks, uses the nickname “baby” & “my love”, reader is described as “pretty” and wears heels, hurt/comfort.
a/n: atsumu isn’t a sucky boyfriend he just gets carried away sometimes. song inspo: can you blame me? - kehlani, lucky daye.
part of the in's and out's new year/birthday event | request prompt: making yourself look good to feel good (your partner has something to say to you)
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sponsored by @itskilau and @tasoyoru for the @ficsforgaza initiative. please check it out and support if you can!
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“Bab—”
Atsumu lingers by your bathroom door, eyes drooping lower and sadder than they ever have. The steam makes the bleached strands of his hair cling to his forehead, his thick eyebrows now damp and flattened. 
You sigh, the big, heavy, and deep kind, shoulders dropping as you clasp the lock of your necklace.
He stares. 
That’s his job. You always ask him to do it the moment you step out of the shower. 
His lip trembles, eyes watery.
“Not now, Atsumu.”
You walk past him as you adjust the towel around your chest, your arm brushing against his. It’s a small thing, a sensation ingrained so deeply into the past two years you’ve been together, but he feels it like it’s the first time you ever touched him—and in a way, it is. Since yesterday, at least. 
The silence that trails after you is so deafeningly still, he thinks he can hear his heart breaking. 
“Atsumu,” your voice rings. 
Who the hell is “Atsumu”? 
He’s not supposed to be “Atsumu” to you. He’s “Tsum.” He’s “baby.” He’s “my love.”
Anything but “Atsumu.”
When you close the door of your walk-in closet to change, the metaphorical volleyball of hope floating right into the palm of his hand misses and drops straight to the floor. 
It started with volleyball, as all things with Atsumu do. 
You’d met him at the rise of his career, just a few years of him being pro. You were friends first, but if you ask anyone around Atsumu, they’d tell you you were never just a friend to him; he’d invited you to all his games and practice matches, spent a bit more time in the locker rooms before going out for dinner with you and the rest of the team. 
Osamu has the receipts of all the extra orders of onigiri Atsumu started adding to his regular weekly subscription since meeting you. 
Your first ‘date’ was Atsumu treading the very fine line between teaching you how to play volleyball and teaching himself self-control. Keeping an eye on the ball is hard enough, what more when he has to resist staring at you in very cute volleyball shorts too? 
As MSBY’s success skyrocketed, so did Atsumu’s—brand deals left and right, solo work trips during off seasons, commercials; the whole thing. When Atsumu wasn’t training, he was either traveling  or attending events and photoshoots. Always on-the-go. Moving. 
And he knew you understood, knew you knew him and his tendencies to overwork; knew him, and his habit of getting stuck inside his own world. You’d driven to late practices with bento boxes to share, and you’d packed his gym bag more than a few times, brought in extra clothes without him having to say a word.
You’ve managed his lifestyle better than anyone could.
But, Atsumu has a bad habit of promising more than he should, of serving white lies just as easily as he does volleyballs behind the service line. 
“Won’t take long, baby. Swear it,” he holds on to the wall by your door, slipping his feet inside his dress shoes. “Pick ya up at 6:00?” 
He’d winked at you then, kissed you between your eyebrows and nose before sneaking one more right at that spot underneath your ear.
What he’d give to be able to do that right now. 
“Okay,” you giggle, swatting his chest as you nod, “better hurry then, you might be late.” 
When Atsumu remembers that moment, the way you’d agreed so doubtlessly, he hates himself even more. You trusted him, have trusted him so wholeheartedly this entire time, so maybe you’re right—
“Would it hurt for you to just be honest?” 
—Atsumu has no excuse standing you up on the date he promised you weeks ago all because he lost track of time in some brand event, listening to a potential collaboration on volleyball shoes. Atsumu has no excuse agreeing to “some drinks” right after just to meet the executives of the company. 
There are meetings for those things, ones that can be scheduled and agreed upon. Ones that don’t compromise or add on to the already long list of missed dates with you. 
“I know you’re busy and I understand,” you sigh, turning the knob of the kitchen stove as you heat up the kettle, “you know I do.” 
He stands before you a quarter past 11:00 p.m., cologne long faded and the smell of alcohol spilled on his sleeve. The kitchen island stands like a net on the court, the ball being sent over to his side. 
“Baby, I—”
He passes it back.
You turn from the stove, face fresh and hair tied into a messy low bun as you look at him—how could he have ever stood this–you–up?
You take the ball, “Can I finish what I have to say first?” 
He nods. The kettle begins whizzing.
“I’m happy and so, so proud that you have all these opportunities,” you reach for the cupboard above head to grab a mug. The box of tea bags sits to your right, a mix of Lemon Balm and Chamomile that Atsumu swears keeps his anxieties at bay during the night. “But at least tell me if you can’t make it.” 
You tear open a tea packet, dangling it inside the mug. The kettle whistles, and he feels the onset of a spike. 
“Please don’t keep my hopes up every time.” 
You turn back towards the stove, turning the burner off as you pour in the steaming water inside the mug. 
“Baby, I swear, they just–they started talkin’ ‘bout these shoes, ‘n I thought t’was cool, ‘n the execs–they said the execs’d be there in the afterparty, and—” he breathes, “won’t happen next time, baby. ‘M so—” 
“Can I really believe you next time?”
You approach the kitchen island slowly, holding the piping hot mug carefully as you set it down in front of him. 
Atsumu stood you up on your date, and you still made him tea. 
You hold his stare for a brief moment before you walk away, sadness and disappointment all-in-one.
It is now that Atsumu knows, he’s fucked up.
The ball lands on his side of the court. 
And so, he’s spent this entire day trying to make it up to you—breakfast in the morning, right before training (which he absolutely tanked because all he could think about was how sad you looked the night before); flowers that he brought home after lunch time, just to find the apartment empty. It’s only after a full text thread and three missed calls to your phone that he finally gets a response.
“Nail appointment. Going out tonight,” is your reply (using speech-to-text too, he suspects, with how formal it sounds). 
Which is fine and dandy to him; you should do everything that makes you feel better after he practically took you for granted. It’s just—he hasn’t even said sorry yet, can’t even call you “baby”, can’t even touch you even though he really, really, really wants to. 
And now, with you closing the door on him while you’re changing—there’s nothing else he can do, really, but to walk away and give you some space. 
He shifts his feet, dragging them lightly against the wooden floors of your bedroom.
The moment he hears the door of your walk-in closet slide open, he hurriedly sits down on the edge of your bed, acting as if he wasn’t just anxiously pacing, waiting for you to come out. 
He feels like shit, if he’s being honest—like how he does when he misses a serve; if not, worse. 
You look good. Make-up done to only emphasize the features he loves (which is your entire face, really), and your outfit perfectly accentuating the dips and curves of your body. 
He follows you as you exit the room, tailing after you like a lost puppy. When you stop by your entryway, all he can do is watch as you bend down to put on the straps of your heels. And it sucks, because if you weren’t fighting, Atsumu would be right by your feet, crouched low so that you wouldn’t have to. 
It’s pathetic and a little helpless of him to just stand and stare in the middle of your living room. He should say something at least, but, you just look so good, and his throat feels dry; his heart all achy and stomach twisty. 
He doesn’t want to be away from you. 
And it’s not that he doesn’t like you going out looking like this—he loves it. But as soon as you step out the door with a soft “don’t wait up for me” mumbled from your glossed lips, Atsumu can only taste bitter regret at the fact that he wishes he were coming with you. 
He couldn’t even give you a goodbye kiss. 
The blond groans, pulling at his hair as he rests his elbows down on the kitchen counter. 
“Don’t wait up for me,” you said. As if he can even sleep without you around. 
.
.
.
The hours go by but they feel like days. Atsumu’s done every possible thing he can do in this apartment and it still hasn’t breached 11:00 p.m.. He’s cleaned down the kitchen (twice!) and arranged the food inside the fridge like those ‘stock up my fridge with me’ tiktoks he’s seen on Sakusa’s phone. The clothes on his side of the closet have been arranged by color and length, with all the ones in his dresser refolded, Marie Kondo style. He’s also pretty sure he’s scrubbed the bathroom down enough that you can probably see your reflection on the tiles of the damn thing. The laundry baskets for both your clothes are now empty, and he’s changed the bedsheets too and—
He’s still restless. The numbers on the clock taunt him, moving up agonizingly slowly. He can’t stop looking at the time, itching for you to come home. 
Atsumu is sorry, so so so incredibly so, because you’re right―he hasn’t been fair to you at all, and he needs you to know that he knows it, too. 
His eyes go over the clock again, only a minute having passed since the last time he checked it. 
Is this how you felt? Every time you waited for him to come home for a date he promised you? 
He squeezes his eyes; it hurts him just thinking about it. 
That’s it, he decides, grabbing his phone and wallet as he walks out the door. 
.
.
Atsumu doesn’t check your location often (maybe only a few times). It’s not a trust thing, he swears; it’s just for when he wants to make sure you’re somewhere safe, or in a place he can reach you should you need him there. 
And, you clearly don’t need him right now, but, Atsumu is a little selfish, he admits. 
Sitting at home with all his regret feels worse than seeking you out to beg for your forgiveness, whether you want him to or not. 
He’s barely dressed for the venue as he steps inside the bar, a pair of sweatpants and a white t-shirt with those fashionable Birkenstock clogs on. A few people seem to recognize him, tilting their heads and murmuring among themselves as he walks through door, but none of them approach him, thankfully, except for a server asking if he needs assistance. 
His eyes scan the tables first, searching for any semblance of the outfit he’d seen you leave in earlier. The dim lights make it increasingly difficult for him to look for your properly as he squints his eyes some more, narrowing his vision to the people at the front bar this time. It’s after the fourth person he dismisses that he feels himself getting desperate, nearly turning towards the server beside him to ask for help.
Until he spots you—tucked in the corner of the front bar, sitting on the barstool with your legs crossed as you swirl around your drink. 
You look bored, and a little sad, chin resting in your hand as you lean your elbow on the table. 
He frowns, thanking the server on the side as he makes his way to you slowly. You barely notice him as you bring out your phone, tapping on the screen as you stare at it almost longingly―a photo of you and him some time ago after one of his games. He knows it well, can still remember that day so clearly: when he became a PR nightmare because he couldn’t help but announce your relationship by kissing you in front of everybody. 
It makes his chest hurt. 
Then, you swipe it open, and he’s close enough now to be able to catch a glimpse of what’s on your screen: your text thread with him, his last message being, “Did you make it safely?” 
(You pout, eyes pricking with tears. You didn’t reply to him then because you weren’t ready to fully talk to him yet, still upset and disappointed. 
It was easy to make yourself feel better by dressing up and stepping out of the apartment earlier, the promise of good drinks and good company awaiting your arrival; you couldn’t think about how you felt if you were busying yourself with others. But now that all of those feelings have died down and most of your friends have started chatting up other people they’ve found, it’s beginning to hit you all at once just how much you still prefer Atsumu’s company more than anything else.
Your fingers hover over your text box, typing and deleting. Typing and deleting.) 
He’s two stools away from you now, and he can barely contain it―
“Baby,” his voice trembles, unsteady. 
Recognition fills you as you turn to the sound, half-confused at whether you’re hearing things; whether―
(“Tsum,” you mutter, eyes catching a pair of familiar warm brown staring back at you. His bottom lip quivers, the embodiment of a dam starting to crack, vibrating.
Your emotions are a mess, your breath on hold as you feel tears welling up in your lashline too. You still feel upset, still a little sad, and a tiny bit disappointed, but what coats them all is a sense of relief because—)
―he’s here, standing in front of you like he just rolled out of the house with barely enough time to get dressed (which, you’re sure is exactly how things went), and you’re sliding off the bar stool in the prettiest outfit, looking like the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. 
“‘M so sorry,” he breathes out, stepping closer as he grabs your hand, “Don’t ever wanna make y’feel like that again.” His knee gives way as he starts sinking to the floor, “I won’t do that anymore―” 
“Tsum,” you try to call his attention.
He’ll beg for your forgiveness whether you like it or not. 
(The interaction is causing nearby tables to look, murmurs and whispers in your periphery as you catch vague sentences here and there. He still is a public figure, after all.) 
But Atsumu is unaware, looking at you and you alone as he pleads, “No, please hear me out first. I promise I’ll tell ‘em they can speak ‘ta―” 
“Tsum,” you squeeze his hand, whispering more firmly as you try to pull him up. 
“Baby, please. Gimme the chance ‘ta show ya that I―”
(You look around and notice even more eyes on the two of you, fond looks on their faces as they prepare their phones for what seems like something momentous. Then it hits you, how this looks―)
“Tsum, please stand up,” you tug at his hand strongly, urging him to stand. His eyebrows furrow as he obliges, only comprehending why when you explain it to him softly, “people were starting to think you were about to propose.” 
He pauses for a moment, a slight, “Oh,” as he ponders on it. “Well, if that’s what’ll prove it t’ya, then—” 
You roll your eyes, the corners of your lips curling slightly as you hit his shin with your foot and squeeze his hand again, “Don’t joke about things like that.” 
Well, it’s not the first time it’s crossed his mind, if he’s being honest. 
He sighs, sitting on the stool beside you as he rubs his thumb over your hand again, bringing it close to his lips to kiss softly. 
“‘M really sorry, baby,” he mumbles against your skin before moving your hand over his heart. “Don’t ever want ya feelin’ like this again.” 
“I know,” you give him a small smile, patting down some of the strands of his hair that stick out, “you didn’t have to come out here though, you know. I was about to go home soon, anyway.” 
“Can ya blame me? Seein’ ya off like that?” he grips your hand tighter as his voice softens. “Y’re too pretty to be sad,” he plays with your fingers, intertwining them with his.
You hit his shin again, feeling shy. You always do when Atsumu likes to sweet-talk you. 
“Do ya forgive me?” he asks after some time, as you take the last few sips of your drink. 
You hum, looking him in the eyes as you nod, pouting, “I don’t like being mad at you, you know.” He lights up, beaming, but you add on, “We still have to talk about it properly, though. Later, when we get back.” 
He nods in agreement, holding your hand as you slide off the barstool, guiding you out of the bar and into the car. 
.
.
(You both do talk about it properly, and the next time Atsumu promises you a date, he blocks it out of all of his calendars, sending the date to his manager even, just to be extra sure.) 
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a/n: this has been such a long time coming, i'm sorry to those who waited! i hope you enjoyed even though this simmered with me for way too long 😭 i love writing atsumu a little lovesick but i also think he deserves someone who is equally as in deep as he is 🥺
thank you notes: to 🍧 anon for helping me figure out "what would make you mad at atsumu?" and to @ceroseis and @mieiri for always listening to my shenanigans pre-writing!
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comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡
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undreaming-fanfiction · 9 months ago
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Okay, so vampire Eddie is a pretty standard trope at this point, but may I offer...Twilight vampire Eddie who is absolutely pissed off about his sparkly existence?
Eddie actually isn't that old, he was turned in the 80s when he was around 20. He lives with his small and not only vampire family. There's patriarch Wayne, his partner Scott who always becomes a teacher no matter where they move, Claudia Henderson and her son that have been with them ever since Scott noticed Dustin being unusually quiet in his class and soon after, Wayne kicked out his abusive father.
The problem with living with a smart man who loves educating people and a man who never received the education he deserved is - they take school really, really seriously. Whenever they move, Eddie usually has to re-join high school, it's all "just so that you have some socialization! Also we need to be able to blend in, so look around and see what's normal with young people! Also I'm pretty sure some of the stuff we know is now obsolete or disproven, so make sure to tell us!". And Eddie loves Wayne and Scott, he really does, but he had trouble blending in even when he was alive, so now? Impossible. As for gathering information, Eddie has been trying for decades to explain to Wayne that even if becoming a vampire healed the wounds from the lynching mob, it didn't do shit for his ADHD, so there. Wayne finds Eddie banging his head into a desk one day and chanting "WHAT-THE-FUCK-IS-TIK-TOK?!"
So yes, Eddie hates being a forever highschooler, but it also means he can run DnD clubs everywhere he joins and he's not even lynched for it like in the 80s, so hey, progress! He gets mostly content with his existence, except that he's fucking sparkly and can't turn into a bat, so what's the point?!
But then a huge group of people moves from the close town of Hawkins, they had a really fucked up earthquake - Wayne told him all about it, he often volunteered in rescue and high risk works, and he's never seen anything like it - and their little town becomes way more crowded. There are high school freshmen just begging to be introduced to his club, Hellfire, although one of them is scary observant and Eddie is really sure that Jane knows he's a vampire.
And then there's Steve Harrington. A young man with the prettiest hair ever who joined Eddie's class, apparently he needs to repeat the last year too because if your school burns down, you can't take final exams. He's stupidly pretty, snarky, bitchy, and even though he could be partying day and night and spending the rest of his time on dates, he prefers to hang around with the freshmen. Lucas tells him one day that Steve got badly hurt when he was digging through the collapsed middle school, finding and rescuing their whole group, and well...Eddie respects that. Dustin absolutely loves Steve and maybe Eddie feels a bit jealous, but he has to admit - the guy is cool.
The problem with Steve Harrington is this - he's seen so much shit that nothing really fazes him. Eddie loves shocking people. Steve is unshockable. It becomes their little game, they get close, Eddie realizes he has an embarrassing crush, all that jazz. He tries dropping hints, he slurps his bloody lunch from a bottle that has a "THIS IS DEFINITELY TOMATO JUICE AND NOTHING ELSE". He wears a cape. He adopts a horrible Dracula accent. Nothing works. Steve always just laughs and tells him that he's weird and that's why he likes him.
Finally, Eddie has enough. They walk in the woods to get high, Eddie decides to break the ice, he scoops up Steve, does his whole dashing-through-the-woods thing, and he hopes that he can finally share his secret with Steve.
Except Steve just pats his back and says "Wow, that was cool, man! You'd be amazing at track. Great core strength too," and Eddie's head implodes.
"Okay, Steve. Don't you think there's something rotten here?" he tries.
"I mean, it's the woods. Of course there's something rotting all the time."
Eddie tries again. "You've noticed something strange, haven't you. I'm inhumanly fast and strong."
"I sure didn't expect that! You must be secretly training. I didn't know this town had a gym."
Again. "My skin is pale white and ice cold."
Steve is watching a nearby squirrel instead of looking horrified. "Yeah, not all people tan great, Robin is like that too. And I told you, man. Your circulation is shit, you need better socks and some gloves too."
"My eyes change color."
"Yeah, I know, I do envy you that you can wear those cool contact lenses. My eyes are too dry for that."
Eddie is growing desperate, he's gesturing at the trees because Steve doesn't listen. "I speak like I'm from a different time."
"80s slashers will do that to you. You basically live on those. But I gotta admit that they're pretty fun. Oh look, she's got an acorn! Clever girl!"
"Very clever. Also I never eat or drink anything."
"Hey, I'm not judging. Some people prefer one or two meals in a day instead of the whole five meal thing."
Eddie feels like howling and he isn't even a werewolf. "I. DON'T. GO. INTO. THE. SUNLIGHT."
Steve's eyes finally leave the squirrel. "Duh. We've already established you can't tan."
And Eddie's had enough. He tears off his t-shirt, marches directly into the sunlight and throws the biggest tantrum of his life. "STEVEN HARRINGTON. PAY ATTENTION. I am 20. I have been 20 for a while now. You know what I am, right? I am a vampire. So ask me the question, what do we eat? That wasn't a fucking tomato juice Steven!!!"
Steve just watches him with quiet amusement, as if he's waiting for something.
Eddie doesn't notice. His monologue is reaching its most dramatic part. "I've killed people before! I'm the world's most dangerous predator!"
Steve snorts. "I saw you trip over your own feet in the cafeteria."
"Not the point!"
"You told a waitress "you too" when she told you to enjoy your meal."
Eddie actually howls now. "THE POINT IS." He spins in the sunlight and sees the reflections of light off his skin. "I wouldn't have minded becoming a vampire, but let me tell you. Being stuck in high school forever? Sucks. Craving chips and throwing them up whenever you try them? SUCKS. And thinking you've become the legendary creature of the night when you're a glorified glitter mascot?! And you can't even fly?! DOUBLE SUCKS."
He points at his bare glittering chest. "THIS THE SKIN OF A FUCKING DISCO BALL, STEVE!"
Steve just laughs and gets up from the tree stump he was sitting on. "Thanks for sharing. I was kinda hoping you'd finally ask me out since this is the first time we've had some privacy, but this was interesting too."
Eddie's sharing mania suddenly stops. He realizes he's shirtless in the middle of the forest, and his yelling has scared off the squirrel. He promptly grabs his shirt and puts in on. "Um. You...you wanted me to ask you out? Because I totally want to do that. Yep. But I thought it would have been unfair to ask you before I told you-"
"That you're a vampire? Dude, I know."
Eddie blinks once. Then again. "Excusemewhat?"
Steve smiles at him and touches his hand. "Look. After what happened in Hawkins, I know the smell of blood. I knew it wasn't tomato juice. Also I've accompanied the kids to enough monster flicks to know."
"Oh." Eddie licks his lips and doesn't really know what to say. "Um. What...does that mean for us?"
Laughing, Steve grabs his other hand too. "Definitely two things. One - you can and should kiss me. Two - you can stop wearing that cape. I got your point."
"Oh okay. Cool. Will do. Both."
And since Eddie Munson is a vampire of his word, he does.
(Wayne is absolutely delighted that Eddie is dating, he watches sports with Steve and discusses the pros and cons of Steve becoming a paramedic. Scott helps Steve with some of the subjects he's struggling with. In return, Steve works with Robin to find a makeup brand that is fully sparkleproof, giving the vampires a chance to walk in the sunlight again. And sometimes, he helps them answer the questions that have been plaguing the Munson-Clarke-Henderson household for years...such as: what is TikTok?)
(oh and also. Turns out Steve really thought Eddie was wearing creepy contact lenses. That one aspect of vampyrism he found very cool)
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flemingsfreckles · 2 months ago
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New Name
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Synopsis: You and Jessie find a way to subtlety announce your marriage.
WC: 2.1k
Warnings: none :)
A/N: stuff in italics is in the past, previous stuff that happened… I promise replacement and drunk dial are being worked on… just sometimes you need a little bit of a fluffy break
Jessie smirked as she walked around into the locker room, immediately making a brisk walk toward her cubby where her jersey for the game today was hung. She could see it from across the room, everyone else’s, back of the jersey facing the room, names obviously on display, except hers.
Hers had been turned around, just as she has requested. As she reached it, she took a deep breath before reaching for the hanger and turning it to look at the back. For the first time she read not only her own last name, but followed by a hyphen and your last name. Unable to contain herself Jessie felt a huge smile break across her face as she quickly grabbed out her phone snapping a photo of the back before sending it to you.
You were at home, cleaning up from the breakfast you had made for your newly made wife before she headed out for pregame work. She had told you she needed to go in for something early, you didn’t question it. Jessie often had meetings, media, little extra training she wanted to do, small stuff that she’d add on before or after her game days so this was nothing new. What she didn’t tell you was why she had gone in so early.
That surprise came in the form of a photo. You opened your phone after seeing the notification from your wife, smiling when you remembered she was your wife now, not just your girlfriend, not just your fiancée, she was your wife.
Jessie 🫎❤️: had to come in to make sure this was all set
Jessie 🫎❤️: Attachment
You clicked on the picture and your jaw dropped. You saw the all too familiar image of a jersey, Jessie’s name and number on the back. Only now, your last name sat side by side with your wife’s. You stared and stared at the image.
Jessie 🫎❤️: Hope that’s okay, I’m thinking now that I should’ve double checked that it was okay to do today. We talked about it for the first game back but, I’m sorry.
You: I’m speechless, definitely not upset
Jessie 🫎❤️: okay, I still should’ve checked with you, I just thought it would be a cool way to announce it, and I figured it’s a good time to do it.
You: So everyone will know we’re married after today, I like that.
Private but not secret has been the motto that describes your relationship with Jessie. The two of you had been dating since she was at Chelsea. Neither of you ever publicly announced you were dating, but the speculation was abundant. The two of you were always together. You posted photos of Jessie with you at farmers markets, at coffee shops, on hikes, you always attended her games and she’d come see you in the stands, you weren’t hiding it by any means. PDA was never something you were big on so it didn’t bother you to be reserved around your girlfriend when others were present. After nearly 3 years together in London, when Jessie made the move to Portland, you followed her, only solidifying the rumors and assumptions that the two of you were together when fans spotted that Jessie was still coming over to the same girl after her move.
After a year in Portland together, you proposed, Jessie said yes and the two of you slowly began planning a wedding. Unfortunately with the Olympics, international windows, the NWSL season, on top of your job, little to no wedding planning was done by either of you. Not that you minded, it was fine, you’d get to it when you did. You were committed regardless, a piece of paper and a party weren’t going to change that.
It had been an off week for Portland, you and Jessie had been having an easy morning, both of you on the couch, books in hand enjoying each other's company.
“Would you ever have considered eloping?” Jessie puts her book down looking across the couch at you and nudging her foot into your thigh.
“Hmm?” You hum, engrossed in your book not fully hearing what Jessie had said. You finish reading the sentence you were on before putting your own book down to give her your attention. “Sorry what?”
“Eloping? Would you have ever considered it before?” She asks flatly before adding. “It’s in my book, I just was curious.”
“What do you mean ‘before’?” You shifted on the couch, pulling the blanket up more.
“Like we’ve discussed having a big formal wedding obviously, I mean like, before we discussed that?” Jessie clarifies.
“I mean, sure, I think I’d still consider it honestly, easy, quick, intimate. I’m honestly surprised you were more into the idea of the big wedding.” It was true, despite the small planning you had done, the guest list had been one of the first things, when it was all said and done the two of you were looking at a couple hundred names of people you planned to invite.
“I’m not, I actually always liked the idea of eloping. Just me and my future wife, somewhere with a view. I thought you wanted to do the full formal wedding, and I think it’s just been programmed into my head that I have to invite all my teammates and by default that’s a big wedding.”
You hesitate for a moment, listening and processing Jessie’s statement. Just as she goes to reopen her book you speak up. “Want to then?” You say, raising an eyebrow at her and giving a shrug of your shoulders.
“Want to, what?” She puts the book back into her lap.
“Elope?” You say casually, unsure of how Jessie had lost her way in the conversation you were having.
“Seriously?” Jessie squints across the couch at you.
“If you are?”
“When?” She cocks her head at you.
“I’m free tomorrow or if not tomorrow I’m also available the next day?” It’s true, you both were free, no plans, no responsibilities.
You watch Jessie squint at you before a smirk begins to show on her face. “I can’t tell if you’re kidding with me or not.”
“I’m not.”
“Okay.” She sighs and laughs. “Tomorrow then.”
“Okay, let me make some calls.” You immediately hop off the couch, making a run toward your phone that sat charging. You hear Jessie laughing at the way you frantically jumped from the couch, that was a sound you were ready to listen to for the rest of your life.
It took 2 phone calls, one to Jessie’s sister and one to a local company that helped you sort out everything you’d need. Jessie’s sister had always been Jessie’s best friend and since the two of you started dating, you became closer and closer with her, she was already set to be Jessie’s maid of honor, it made sense to call her and ask if she’d be your witness. You both also knew you could trust her not to let out your little secret before you wanted everyone to know.
The following day the two of you, Jessie‘s sister, a photographer, and the man who would marry you arrived at the trailhead of a quiet path that you and Jessie frequently hiked.
The five of you hiked to a small opening within the trees, a view of a mountain in the clearing. While everyone got set up, you and Jessie walked over, hand in hand, taking a second to admire the view.
“This is perfect.” Jessie said her head resting on your shoulder as the two of you looked out.
“I know.” You let out a satisfied sigh. “I can’t believe we were going to do the big party instead.”
“I don’t know what we were thinking.”
Just minutes later you and Jessie stood hand in hand, looking at each other with stupidly happy grins on your faces and joyful tears in your eyes as you were officially pronounced as wives. The two of you had just exchanged silicone wedding bands, all you could manage with a 12 hours notice, agreeing you’d get metal ones once you broke the news to everyone.
Jessie pulled you in for a sweet kiss, sealing your marriage. “I’m your wife now.” She said quietly as she pulled away, her forehead resting on yours as the two of you looked at each other.
“You’re my wife.”
Jessie sat in her cubby, jersey still hung up behind her as she nervously bounced her leg. Her other teammates would be showing up any minute, she wasn’t sure how to go about it. Did she make it a big deal? Make a formal announcement? Did she just wait for someone to notice?
That’s when Janine came around the corner first, giving Jessie a quick smile and wave that the urge to tell someone broke. Had it been anyone else Jessie might have been able to hold the news in, but her best friend, she couldn’t do it.
“We got married!” Jessie nearly shouts at her teammate who whips her head around from where she was standing at her own cubby.
“What?”
Jessie turns, grabbing the jersey behind her and holding it out to Janine. “We, last Friday, we got married, we eloped.”
“Holy shit!” She comes up, grabbing the jersey to hold it out and look at it herself. “Wow. I can’t believe it. Shy little Jessie, married before me.” Janine teased. Jessie could feel her face flush slightly. “Is this your announcement?”
Jessie nodded. “We decided might as well let everyone know, confirm the suspicions everyone has had for years now.”
“That’s really exciting Jessie, I’m so happy for you both.” Janine pats Jessie on the back before pulling her in for a quick hug.
“What’s exciting?” The two turn to see more teammates trailing in. A couple of them looked over where Jessie and Janine were standing.
“Go ahead, show it off!” Janine hands her back the jersey and Jessie wanders over to where the group of teammates stood. She slowly starts telling her teammates the news. It's only a few minutes before her whole team knows and the locker room is filled with congratulatory applause and cheers from her teammates as they all learn the news.
A few hours later you’re standing in the family section, sporting a jersey of your own, your new shared last name across the back. When you arrived at the stadium to get your friends and family credentials, a member of the equipment staff had met you, presenting you with a jersey that matched the one in the photo Jessie had sent you. A small note from Jessie attached to it.
‘For my wife, I love you.’ You smiled at the note, the fact that wife was your official title now still had yet to set in. You thanked the staff and quickly found a restroom to change in before heading to your seat.
You found yourself sitting watching, your right index finger and thumb playing with the silicone band that now rested on your left ring finger. It felt weird. Not bad, but new and different, exciting, every time you touched it you thought of Jessie and your perfect little wedding. A few of the other player’s family had asked about the jersey, some of them making jokes that you two needed to hurry and actually get married until you told them you had. You received the same congratulations that your wife was getting from her own teammates.
When the speaker came on to announce the starting eleven for each team you nearly held your breath waiting for Jessie’s name to be called. You didn’t know if she was having them say it, maybe she’d keep it just her name for the lineup. When you heard her first name called, your ears perked up, not only was her last name announced, but your last name followed hers, just as it was written on the jersey. You noticed a murmur in the crowd after the initial cheers died down. No doubt people were confused about her name but you didn’t care.
The game was an easy one, Portland beating Seattle and you got to watch your wife score a beautiful goal. As it landed in the back of the net she immediately bolted over to where you were standing, holding out her left hand toward the direction in which you stood before kissing her ring finger. She then turned to celebrate with her teammates, but the celebration definitely got the message across.
When the game finished you made your way down to the pitch to find Jessie. “Hi wifey.” You say, coming up behind her and wrapping your arms around her to pull her close.
“Hi wife.” She says, pulling her attention away from her conversation with Quinn who quickly congratulated both of you.
“My last name looks good on you.” You say as you lean over putting a small peck on her cheek.
“I know it does, we should’ve done this years ago.”
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wosoluver · 2 months ago
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Oh, baby
Georgia Stanway x reader.
I know nothing about giving birth so bare with me. Also please don't kill me for the plot changes, Hope you like it!
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"Fuck!" you said feeling the warm liquid run down your legs. "No, no, no." You were staying over at her parents' house. Tomorrow would be the final match at the 2023 world cup and you would be gathered to watch the game there.
"Jo! We need to go, my water just broke!" you said grabbing her mother's attention. Her dad had gone to Australia to support her, but her mom refused leaving you, pregnant and alone. And you thanked the universe. You were 36 weeks, you were to give birth only next month. You had been feeling small contractions, that were apparently normal in the third trimester.
That was the only reason Georgia agreed to go.
A million thoughts went through your mind. Would the baby be okay? Would they have to do a C-section?
Would your fiancé be okay, knowing she missed the moment se was waiting so excited for? Were you even ready for this?
You started to cry immediately.
"Don't worry love, I'm calling her as soon as you're in the hospital."
"No please! You can't! You know her!" you said followed by a scream when you felt the sharp pain of a contraction hit you. "Please, please wait as much as we can. This is important for her, she needs to be a hundred percent focused."
"But seeing her daughter's birth is too..."
"I know but even if she knows, she'll won't get here in time. Please."
She only nodded agreeing with you. And you asked her to call your parents instead.
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While you walked around the room, preparing yourself for the ride ahead, in attempt to stay sound, you thought about what had led you here.
You and Georgia had been together for almost six years.
You had met at Man City, both came from a small town and were around the same age, sharing the dream to become big players.
You started dating, and your relationship went through a lot.
You endured for years a long distance relationship, when you moved away to play in Spain and she stayed back in Manchester.
A couple of seasons later you transferred to Bayern, where your girlfriend soon followed suit.
And you both finally managed to start your life together.
She didn't want to wait any longer, all that time had been enough.
From living together to her proposing, life felt like pure bliss.
And after the 2022 euro's title, you felt like it was the right time to have a pause on your career.
It wasn't an easy decision, since the World Cup was around the corner.
But differently from your teammates, you now had a bigger dream, Georgia fully supported you, she herself had always wanted to be a mother.
You didn't expect for it to work so soon.
Along with the risks the doctors had told you, it could take more than one try.
Fortunately the whole pregnancy had been very healthy, and nothing gave you any reason to think something like this could happen.
You questioned yourself if you were doing the right thing, by not updating her on the matter.
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Georgia's head was buzzing, Spain was winning by a goal. England had slightly recovered at the end of first half, but it wasn't enough.
She sat on the locker room, trying to cool down, zoning out a bit. All she could think of was winning this, to come home as a champion. For her girls.
She could have never imagined you had been in the hospital for the last couple of hours, let alone giving birth. So she didn't bother to look for her phone.
And before she knew, she was walking back to the field for the second half.
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"Just one more push, yeah?"
And you did as a loud cry filled the room. And they placed her right on your chest.
You felt like you could pass out from how tired you were.
But you couldn't, yet.
"You did great darling." her mom cooed you in between tears.
"Is the game over yet?"
"Yes, they won second place." she handed your phone over.
You cried hard a the sound of that. She had been deprived of being champion and seeing her daughter's first moments in the same day, at the same time. You tried to recompose yourself while you pressed to facetime her.
ongoing call...
"Hey love, what took you so lon-" she managed to get out before shutting up at the realization. A big smile appearing in her tear stained face. "She's beautiful."
before she could say anything else, Lucy, who was prying at the video call, loudly announced to everyone.
"The baby is here!" and you could hear the girls cheering loudly. Running to try and congratulate you.
"You guys are so loud, geez." your soon to be wife said after a few moments, walking to a more private place, so you both could talk.
"I am so sorry." you said eyes filled with tears.
"We couldn't have known." she said giving you a reassuring smile. "I was going to show you this baby here," showing her silver medal at the camera. "But it seems like you're already holding our baby right there."
And for over ten minutes you two sat quietly, just admiring the angel you had brought into the world.
"Is she okay? I mean she clearly looks like it, but since she's early..."
"Better than expected actually. They said she's around 6.30 lbs and over 19 inches. Pretty big for a preterm. They'll run some tests in the morning, just to be sure." you said letting out a yawn.
"You need to get some sleep. And I'm getting on the first plane home."
"I love you, and I'm so proud of you."
"Oh baby, I'm the one who's proud. I love you. Both of you."
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Maybe another part with G meeting baby Talia?
like & share pls!
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rinnstars · 2 months ago
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sweet like bubblegum!
hcs of school romance with itoshi rin! (fluff, pt formed)
inspired after reading his novel last night TT + new jeans bubblegum!
CLASS TIME!
tbh wld be reading soccer related items (from novel) underneath his desk 😭
probably has copied your homework a few times (its ok bc hes cute)
but would be so obvious with not paying attention if you arent so the teacher doesnt focus on you
the type to help you do the textbook stand thing to hide if youre sleeping or playing your phone
wld lend you his jacket during lectures/air-conditioned classes
sneaks sweets in for you if you like them
study sessions during break (where hes studying soccer theory stuff and maybe pcassionally his revision during exam period)
seem like the type to doodle on his work ?!?! he wld doodle u n him.. just dont look at his math homework
matching keychains on his bag to yours!!!
LUNCHTIME!
has his own packed lunch probably something abt hitting his protein goals
wld 10/10 buy your lunch for you both financially and physically ie. queue up for you first if classes end later
eating together<3 and talking abt anything and everything!!
probably at some quiet place in school maybe at the stands near the field
would get scammed by vending machines to get snacks or drinks for you
lets you sleep on his shoulder or lap as he tries not to freak out too obviously (fail rate at 75%)
AFTER SCHOOL!
ice cream dates after school!!
would share his food with you even if you didnt ask
sitting at the stands as he practice as you do whatevers
always hopes youll come just simply because he does better when youre there watchingn him
would wait for you by practicing soccer if you habe club/detention + get you drinks (from canteen/delivery)
study dates with him at library/cafes -> getting distracted but its okay bc its him
would wear the small gifts you gift him ie. necklaces/keychains/small paper rings
shy abt pda in public: at most linking pinky together / sharing food
would be awful but gets better for claw machine -> would go dyring weekends to surprise you when you two meet again after school
calling at night to watch/play horror / visual novel games
falling asleep to your voice on call
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oraclekleins · 6 months ago
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hello hello!! i discovered you a few hours ago and LOVE your content<3
could i request a joost klein x gn!reader where the reader is also competing in eurovision, representing {readers country} and basically they are already dating and joost kind of gets jealous because readers new make up artist got a little TOO touchy.. once they get back to their shared hotel room he expresses that jealousy by getting a bit more clingy?
when reader tried to ask about whats wrong he just kisses them or brushes it off as not important :3
thank you if you accept my request and have a great day <3
ill be 🩵anon if that’s okay!
Hii! Thanks for being so sweet, nonnie! Hope this is up to your liking. 💙 I changed the prompt a little iiif that's alright, so here's kind of an aftermath of that. ^^ I love any feedback.
You're Overcomplicating Things . . -> Jealous!Joost Klein x Reader
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The buzzing of Joost's phone wakes him with a start. 
His head turns a bit to the side, slowed from exhaustion. Joost's vision is still catching up with him, the living room gauzed in a radial blur; he feels like he’s wading through quicksand — dragging himself to sit up, before his arm catches another body. You're curled onto the left side of the bed, unmoving —  the pillow your arm was wrapped around having ended up on the floor. There’s a spot of drool on your hoodie, plush lips tugged along the bold Eurovision logo of your sleeve. 
“Morning,” Joost mumbles, patting the cushions for his phone. His voice is groggy, scratched dry from the shitty beers you two had downed the night before. He grimaces at the spit webbed on the top of his mouth, flicks at it with his tip of tongue in disgust. He moves to gently push at your leg; it’s hot, too hot for you to lounge this close; there’s a pool of sweat sinking into the crook of his chest — he feels gross, sticky, uncomfortable. There's a heavy silence in the air. It feels like you did something wrong, but you can't place your finger on it. You stir in response, a whine of annoyance rumbling from your throat. You blink over to see what Joost's all worked up about, who’s grabbing his phone from the nightstand, pinching at his forehead.
"Good morning — what's wrong?" You're still waking up, clearing the spit from your throat. Biting back a cough, you manage to sit up, pressing on the wrinkles from your shirt.
Joost offers you a tired smile, moving to kiss your forehead. "Long day ahead, right? Hop to it." A bit of enthusiasm pokes out of his voice as the words die out, his lips trailing to your jaw, pressing into it. It feels like he's hiding from you, even when he's slotted into your side like a puzzle piece, lazily tracing his fingers against your hip.
He's sulking, the boy-shape trying to disappear into your skin, upset and loathing.
Your fingers find his curls, gently raking your nails across his scalp. He makes a noise of satisfaction, face nestling closer to your collarbone.
You would know his envious touches through death. There were small, red marks around your waist where he had been pressing into it, marking you, yet.. gentle. Apologetically, he rubbed his thumb over them, turning his face from you.
"Joost," you sigh, "you think it's stupid," he perks up. "Right? That's why you won't tell me."
His bottom lip is caught between his teeth. "Your makeup, it looked good yesterday. The new artist. Good." Joost fixates on the blanket under you both, looking anywhere but at you. "Good connection."
"Good connection?" He's already kissing the words from your mouth, stealing them from you. If he took them, then he wouldn't have to hear you say them. Listen to you accuse him — be disappointed. "Joost, let me," you're tired of this game already, and he's holding you like he can't get enough, arms tightly wrapped around your waist. You can feel the tense of panic in him, cold throughout his veins, a tremble to his grip.
You're prying his fingers away — careful, soft, not like a punishment. A warning. "You need to talk to me."
Joost is quiet for a minute. He's thinking. His uncomfortable grin is full of teeth, ones that graze on your irritability, biting into you like a peach. He doesn’t wipe the juice from his mouth —  instead lets it dry on his chin, picking at the stain. A rash of his own, festering nerves.
He sits up. Joost's tank hugs his figure. His hair is coiffed into loose, blonde strands of fray, kissing the back of his neck — bouncing when he tilts his head. He frowns. You wrap your arm around his shoulder, keeping him afloat.
"You do not rehearse today, yes?" Joost asks after a bit. You want to make a remark about how you have his schedule memorized, everything written down on your phones, laid out for him — it's a little mean. He doesn't need it right now.
Swinging your legs to the side of his bed, you nod. "Not today, yeah. You want me to come hang out with you?"
Joost nods, a little too fast.
You kiss the side of his head, pulling him back into your chest. "You need to tell me when you're upset. Even if you think I'm gonna get mad, or, I don't know — weirded out."
"I love you." You hum into shoulder. You're ghosting the pad of your thumb against his cheekbone. He looks satisfied, curling back into you.
Joost tangles your fingers. You know how this goes.
"I love you too."
Thanks for reading!
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etherealising · 4 months ago
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flew like a moth to you
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read part one here
pairing: richie jerimovich x fem!reader
summary: thoughts of a certain infuriating older man seem to keep racing through your mind and as the two of you continue crossing paths, you’re bound to be drawn to the flame you ignite in one another.
warning (s): implied age gap | language | angst | verbal arguments | smut | titty suckin | dry humping | p in v | unprotected sex | foreplay | dad bod richie | vaginal fingering | cunnilingus | blowjob | oral sex | penetration | richie’s pull out game is immaculate | edited to the best of my ability |
wc: 16k (i’m sorry y’all i just wanna be their third real bad)
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The summer breeze drifted through your open bedroom window as you sat on your bed while Xiomara rooted through your closet looking for something to wear for her date the following night. You weren’t sure what was so special about your closet considering you knew Xio’s taste in clothing was more expensive than yours but the both of you treated each other’s apartment like a thrift store whenever you visited.
You scrolled through the calendar on your laptop organizing the upcoming tutoring dates for the next few weeks making sure they didn’t interfere with the days you were working with the summer reading program at the library. You were beyond grateful you didn’t have to sign up for a session of summer school this year, even though you were still doing academic-centric jobs it felt nice to do something you enjoyed without being trapped inside a classroom.
Summer break was treating you exceptionally well even after it only being a few weeks. You’d been recruited by a family friend of one of your students to help tutor their middle school-aged child, and while they could be a pain in the ass at times, the pay was too good to pass up, pair that with the summer reading program through the local libraries you were working at and you were set until the next school year began. Although you were working you still had time to yourself, finally not too tired to miss a night out, even falling back in love with your hobbies because you weren’t dead on your feet from chasing around sticky six-year-olds.
“Ohh wow, this is actually so cute I love the fit of it. Did you thrift it?” Xio’s words drew your attention, your eyes still focused on the digital screen before you finally looked up to see what she was talking about.
You frowned trying to ignore the irritation that crawled through you at the sight of the suit jacket hanging off of Xio’s shoulders. “No, it’s uh not mine.”
Xio’s eyes lit up at the crumbs you’d given her in just those five words, a large grin lined her lips as she slipped out of the jacket holding it up to the light streaming through the room to examine it. “Girl who’s fucking jacket is this? And why the fuck does it smell like a forest?”
A chuckle left your lips eyes rolling as you shut down your laptop before setting it on your nightstand and folded your legs to your chest doing your best to keep a neutral expression. “Just some guy I met.” You shrugged your shoulders hoping you sounded nonchalant.
“Mhm,” Xio’s hum was punctuated by her throwing the jacket at you. “Was it that guy you went on a date with? The boring finance guy?” Her eyebrows raised as she looked at you in question, she had that smile on her face like she already knew the truth.
You played with the sleeve of the jacket, finger tracing around the cuff link. “Okay, so there was another guy.” You bit your lip to hide your smile as Xio squealed before bouncing onto your bed, her hands clapping in excitement.
“When was this?” You didn’t even get a chance to respond before a dramatic gasp ripped through her. The sound seemed to fill up the whole room. “You sneaky girl you got wined and dined by finance bro and then ended your night with mystery jacket guy?” You weren’t sure how she did it but it was like Xio knew things without having to be told it was a superpower of hers.
“I wouldn’t call it wining and dining if I paid for my meal.” The two of you scoffed in disgust at the same time before divulging into a fit of laughter, you’d completely forgotten the way you left out the moment you shared with Richie when you first debriefed your friends on the date.
Maybe it was selfish but you had a strong urge to keep what happened between you and Richie to yourself, sure that another opportunity like that wouldn’t present itself again, not that you even wanted it to. The following school week he hadn’t dropped off or picked up Eva and instead of taking it as a personal slight against you, you took it as a sign from the universe that whatever happened between the two of you was just an outcome of the passion brought on by your arguing, a moment of lust filled weakness.
Xiomara laid on her stomach propping her head in her hands as she looked up at you, “So, any reason you haven’t returned his jacket?”
You shrugged looking down at the fabric in your hands before standing to hang it back up, “I chickened out.” It wasn’t a lie you had every intention to stop by the restaurant and drop it off but every time you worked up even the littlest bit of courage you always talked yourself out of it. “And I don’t even think he cares about it.”
“You are so full of shit!” You didn’t have to turn around to see Xio’s eyes rolling or the knowing look she often wore. “You like him!”
The scoff you let out wasn’t even believable to your ears as you exited the room, Xio’s feet eagerly padding behind you as she caught up before plopping down on the stool at your island while you grabbed the takeout menus from your kitchen drawer and tossed them onto the island.
“Absolutely not, if anything I tolerated him. He’s actually fucking insufferable.” You eyed the menus trying not to catch Xio’s eye.
“Oh, so you knew him prior to that night then?” If you thought Richie was insufferable Xio was being even more insufferable as she gave you the third degree in your apartment. You couldn’t be upset though, you knew you’d be doing the same thing if the roles were reversed.
You were just glad that the whole friend group wasn’t here to gang up on you. You hesitated before speaking, pondering the best way to go about the situation, not particularly in the mood to hear the wild fantasies Xio would come up with. “He’s the father of a student I had this year.”
Xiomara’s scream of excitement was exactly last thing you wanted to hear at that moment as she shot out of her chair and ran around the island to jump up and down in excitement with you, your energy far from matching hers. “Wait till everyone hears you bagged a dilf! They’re gonna fre-,”
“What? Xio, no!” You placed your hands atop her shoulders, halting her excitement before it could get too out of hand. Eyes watching as she folded in on herself lips turning into a full-on pout, “I didn’t bag anybody, I almost fucked him in a parking lot and I haven’t seen him since, that’s it, end of story. Now can we please choose what to order?”
It was beneath you but you gave her the puppy dog eyes, feeling victorious as you watched her completely deflate before nodding and pulling you into a hug, “A parking lot?” She looked at you with mirth in her eyes before you swatted her on the arm with the takeout menus.
The two of you divulged into less Richie-centric conversation, your mind sometimes wandering to the mystery man. Did he think of you as much as you thought about him?
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You knew the universe could be cruel, but at this point, you felt like whatever higher power was in control of the timeline of your life found joy in putting you in the most awkward and unexpected positions you could imagine. Case in point being the small blonde child soundly asleep in the backseat of your car, as you stared up at the daunting building facade of a restaurant you had zero intentions of ever visiting again.
You could have easily said no, apologized to Ms. Gattina over the phone, and let her know it wasn’t your job to shuttle kids to and fro once your shift with the library reading program finished for the day, that once the clock struck 2 p.m. the children in the reading program were no longer your responsibility. But then you found Eva sitting all alone at the library help desk long after all the other kids were picked up sitting and listening as the librarian spoke to her mother over the phone to explain the situation and while you wanted to help in any way, you’re not sure what made you agree to dropping off the forgotten child with her father.
A feeling of unease rose inside you the longer you sat there. While you knew you were putting yourself in an awkward position by involving yourself in the middle of a familial dispute, hearing Ms. Gattina’s stressed pleas as she divulged probably more than you deserved to know about the stress she felt with the possibility of Eva being left alone along with said stress brought on by her ex-husband, you found yourself agreeing to her request out of some misplaced feeling of guilt.
And now all you had left to do was drop Eva off with her father, hope that he was aware his ex-wife enlisted your help, and be on your merry way and hope this doesn’t become routine. Sighing one last time you gathered your belongings along with Eva’s bag full of goodies given out before stepping out of the car and hurrying around to the back seat to get the still-sleeping child.
“Eva, sweetie,” your voice was quiet as you gently shook her shoulder trying to wake her. “I need you to wake up.” You stopped as the little girl let out a quiet whine obviously not ready to be roused from her sleep, another sigh left you as you carefully undid her seatbelt and reached in to lift her out of the car hefting her onto your hip and checking the back seat for anything she may have left behind before closing the door and locking your car as you headed to the entrance.
You were surprised at how easily the door swung open, positive it would be locked considering the restaurant wasn’t open to business at this time but you gave it little thought as you stepped into the air-conditioned establishment. It was odd seeing the restaurant like this, quiet not filled with the hustle and bustle of nightlife, the ambiance much more different than the one you experienced when being a paying customer. It was an eerie feeling but it also wasn’t the reason you were there.
The small voice emanating from your neck made you jump, eyes shooting down to Eva’s bleary blues as your eyebrows raised in confusion unsure of what she said. You watched as her small hand lifted, tiny finger pointing in the direction of the kitchen before she spoke once more.
“S’uncle Carmy.” Your eyes moved from the tip of her small finger to look through the small sliver of window that offered a peek into the kitchen, surprised to find a group of people all talking over each other, you weren’t sure how you hadn’t heard the raised voices before but as you continued staring the ongoing argument was made more obvious.
The one person you needed to notice you was nowhere to be found and you couldn’t help the sense of worry that filled you, because if Eva’s father wasn’t here what the hell were you supposed to do with her? Hopefully whoever the hell Uncle Carmy was could take her off your hands, before you could even think about your next course of action you locked eyes with one of the women standing in the group, her own eyes dropping to the child in your arms in recognition.
You breathed a sigh of relief as she excused herself from the conversation, not that anyone paid her words much attention as she moved out of the kitchen and began making her way to you.
“Hi, sorry to just show up but Ms. Gattina asked me to drop Eva off with her father. I messaged him but he didn’t respond.” You gave the woman a forced smile trying not to stare at her heavily swollen belly before realizing she deserved a more thorough explanation. “I was Eva’s second-grade teacher this past school year and I work with the summer reading program through one of the libraries and Eva’s…” You trailed off as the woman raised her eyebrows in amusement at the frantic way you were speaking.
The woman sent you a gentle smile before moving closer, “It's okay, Tiff told me to be on the lookout for you two.” Her hand raised as she gently caressed Eva’s head causing the little girl’s head to poke out from its place resting in your neck, her eyes brightened as much as they could in her tired state as she smiled at the woman in front of you. “Just a bit of friendly advice Richie’s back there on the phone with her now and he did not sound happy.”
You gave a nod of appreciation her underlying tone telling you it was best to get the hell out of dodge, you sent her one last smile before craning your neck to look down at Eva, “Alright sweetie I’m gonna leave you here with…” you trailed off unsure who this woman was to the young girl.
“Aunt Nat…by association at least.” Your eyebrows raised at her words, the sound of them not providing you with any more confidence to leave Eva in her care.
But before either of you could speak another word his tall figure emerged in your peripheral vision, the glare he was sending your way not what you expected. You watched as his expression changed when his gaze dropped to the small girl in your arms, it was almost instantaneous the way his eyes lit up mouth settling into a gentle smile as his hand reached to softly rub up and down her back, his hand bumping into yours before he carefully extracted her from your arms.
“Hey, little monster.” His voice rang through your ears as Eva let out a small giggle before throwing her arms around his neck, the two of them squeezing each other las though their lives depended on it. You tore your eyes away from them as he began whispering to her eyes finding the only other person in the room only to find her already looking at you curiously as you offered a small smile. “Nat could you uh, take Eva for a bit the two of us need to speak.” His words were punctuated by his hand gesturing between you and him.
The woman you now knew to be Nat stood there for a moment before nodding her head as Richie set Eva down so she could walk. You let out a small laugh as Eva moved to wrap her arms around your legs in a goodbye hug before you squatted to her level passing off her goody bag, the small child wrapped her arms around your neck in one last goodbye hug before moving to follow her aunt. “C’mon Eva, why don’t you show me all your goodies in the office.” Nat sent you one last smile before spiriting the two of them away.
You stood to your full height next to Richie both of you watching as they disappeared through the kitchen before the older man rounded on you, hand shooting out with lighting speed as he gripped your bicep and pulled you further from any prying ears in the kitchen finding a perfectly good corner to berate you in.
“Who in the fuck do you think you are?” Richie’s lips curled into a sneer as he looked at you awaiting your answer, the anger he felt translating his iron grip on your bicep.
Frowning, you shook your head confused as to why you were the object of his ire before he spoke over any words you’d thought about spewing. “Waltzing in like some fucking hero carrying my daughter and shit like you just did me the biggest favor in the world.”
Your anger was beginning to peak at the hostile attitude you were receiving, the confusion quickly replaced by how irate you were beginning to feel as your hand came up to shove his arm off of you watching in satisfaction at the look of surprise with how much force was behind it.
“I don’t know what the fuck your problem is Mr. Jerimovich, but you’re not going to stand here and berate me like I deserve it.” Your brows pinched in irritation as you took a step closer into his space, the man's huffs of breath hitting your face. “And for the record, I didn’t do this for you, because while Eva may have been happy to see you a moment ago, you don’t know how distraught she was sitting all alone at the library thinking you’d forgotten about her.” It wasn’t necessary but your last few words were followed by your fingers poking harshly into his chest as you tried to get your point across.
Richie clenched his jaw as your words rang in his ears as he took that last step closer to you closing whatever distance was left between the two of you, your chest brushing against his every time you breathed. “Don’t you ever fucking speak on me as a parent ever again? You fucking hear me?”
The timbre of his voice dropped exceptionally low, his words having taken on a warning tone as they ghosted across your lips. The anger he was stewing in basically emanated off of him, you knew you should have taken his warning, should’ve nodded your head and been on your way and washed your hands of the whole situation but against your better judgment, you just had to have the last words.
“Maybe next time, don’t put the responsibility of parenting your child on me.” You should’ve expected the blow-up, it was written all over his face the moment he saw you upon exiting the kitchen, but for some odd reason when it came to him you just weren’t satisfied until he looked like he hated you.
You let out the breath you’d been holding as he turned to walk away from you, only to be surprised when he spun back around just as fast, finger-pointing in your face as he backed you further into the corner.
“Fuck you!” His voice boomed across the restaurant, your eyebrows raised at just how loud he was, eyes darting behind his imposing figure as you hoped his outburst wasn’t loud enough to draw attention. “You think you’re so much fucking better than me huh? Well, guess what sweetheart, if I’m such a shitty fucking parent what does that make you then huh? Letting me spread you out in pub-.”
His words cut off as you placed your hand on his chest before shoving him back remembering that regardless of how he felt about you, you didn’t have to sit there and take it not getting much further as he quickly moved around you to stand right back in front of you, “No, I’m not fucking done with you.”
“You think because you put on a suit and tie it makes you important?” You paused waiting for him to digest the words, watching on as the anger that once marred his face gave way to confusion. “You’re a 40-year-old fucking nobody.” You watched the hurt flash across his face, a sick feeling of satisfaction coursed through you at just how much you could hurt him with just your words as you tried to ignore the small inkling of guilt you could feel rolling around inside.
Richie’s jaw clenched and unclenched several times, you followed the movement, eyes lingering longer than necessary at the peak of his Adam’s apple over the collar of his shirt before watching as he opened his mouth to speak only for you to beat him to it.
“Tell me this Richie, are you the type of man you would want Eva surrounding herself with?” The question wasn’t meant to rile him up anymore, it was a genuine question you thought he deserved to sit with. And as you stepped around him you tried not to let the embarrassment take over you at the sight of the audience that had since gathered listening to your spat.
Only offering them a small apologetic smile followed by a nod of your head as you took your leave, vowing that you wouldn’t ever give Richie another moment of your time willingly.
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Richie did his best to listen intently as the woman across from him spoke passionately about her accounting job, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the circle of condensation that dripped off his glass of water. Dating was still weird to him, the idea that he was no longer loyal to the one person he planned on spending the rest of his life with would sometimes creep up on him when he least expected it, reminding him of how much of a failure he was in this life after already spending four decades on this earth.
The woman across from him wasn’t boring by any means, she was a great conversationalist and while her topic of conversation wasn’t anything to write home about, he appreciated the obvious love she had for her work. Since he decided to move forward with his life Richie’s dating history was mediocre at best, dates were few and far between and that was mostly due to his lack of trying and busy schedule with the restaurant, but on the nights that he did secure a date he was at least somewhat interested in it never felt like that interest was returned; as though he’d never met the level of expectations his dates held him to.
Familiar laughter made Richie sit up straighter in his chair, the restaurant wasn’t particularly quiet in any way but the fact that his ears latched onto that specific noise forced him to pay better attention to his surroundings. Richie’s eyes quickly found the source that caused the ringing in his ears; his hand unconsciously moved to adjust his tie and suit jacket as though doing so would catch the culprit's attention.
There you were tucked into one of the few darkened corner booths in the establishment, eyes locked on the person whose arm you were tucked under, whatever they were whispering in your ear was funny enough to deserve your laughter. Richie found himself watching you, unsure as to why he felt as though he couldn’t look away, the two of you weren’t on good terms by any means but for some reason he always found himself drawn back to you no matter how much you and your attitude pissed him off. He wasn’t even sure how he knew it was your laughter having only heard it a handful of times and never because of him, but it wasn’t like he could just un-notice you no matter how upset your words and observations from weeks ago made him.
If Richie was sure about anything in his life at the moment it was that you were avoiding him, or maybe it was the other way around. Whatever the case was neither of you had contact with the other since you both spewed such scathing words to each other at The Bear, whenever it was his day to pick up Eva from the reading program it was like you were nowhere to be found even though he knew Eva preferred being by your side while she waited. Richie hadn’t realized just how much the whole ordeal frustrated him until hearing Eva make a passing comment about how she thought Frank was funny because you thought he was funny. His frustrations seemed to reach such a point that Syd even brought the argument up to him doing prep one day helping him to see the error of his ways in taking his frustration out on you when you were only doing what his ex-wife asked of you and putting Eva’s safety first when you could’ve easily left his daughter all alone because of his mistake.
He was pulled from his train of thought by his date across from him, the furrow of her brows had him rushing to assure her that he wasn’t ignoring her, using some excuse about how life at The Bear made him scatterbrained and while it definitely wasn’t the reason his mind wandered, with all the new shit Carmy was implementing it also wasn’t a lie. And that’s how the rest of his date went making idle conversation with a woman he was almost positive wasn’t interested in a second date with him as he let his eyes subtly drift to your corner every so often trying to ignore the way watching you radiate in your happiness made him feel a bit better about the whole night. Although seeing you tucked so snuggly into that corner against a man that wasn’t him made him envious.
Richie would be lying if he said he wasn’t relieved when his night ended and even more so relieved at the amicable decision to not take whatever this was or could’ve been any further. But he was less than relieved to find you standing on the sidewalk waving off who he assumed to be your date for the night as you stood all on your lonesome, no ride in sight. He tried to tell himself it was none of his business, that it wasn’t his responsibility that you made it home safe, but he also couldn’t allow himself to return to the safety of his own home only to wonder if you’d ever made it home at all. Maybe offering you a ride could extend an olive branch, he could even offer up the apology you deserved during the drive. But more than that, any chance you got you put the care and safety of his daughter first, he told himself it was only right to return the favor.
One of his hands reached to loosen his tie before he forced himself to put his pride aside and take the few steps he needed to get to you. Unsure of how to breach the topic of conversation he gave himself a few minutes watching as you scrolled absentmindedly on your phone, his irritation not only growing at the fact that you were left here alone but also the fact you weren’t paying attention to your surroundings.
Richie cleared his throat before speaking, “Did they just leave you here with no way home?” It was a straightforward question and maybe he should have approached you differently as he watched you jump and clasp your phone in surprise at the sound of his voice.
The silence lingered between the two of you as Richie watched your eyes land on him in recognition, your eyes ran over his attire before looking from him to the restaurant. He took the time to let his own eyes roam trying to ignore the way your chest rose and fell as you tried to calm down from the fright before his eyes moved further down your figure, silently and respectfully drinking in the way the fabric of your outfit hugged your figure.
Richie tugged at his tie as he awaited your answer, eyes latching onto the bare skin of your shoulder where the strap of your outfit had fallen from when he scared you. He cleared his throat before looking into your eyes once more.
The noise seemed to rouse you from your stupor as you blinked away your surprise before opening and closing your mouth until you landed on the best response. “Why? Gonna critique my choice of date again?”
Richie bit his tongue ready to do exactly that, he decided to forego the eye roll and scoff he felt was necessary before stuffing his hands in the pockets of his slacks rocking back and forth where he stood trying to decide if it was even worth offering you a ride with how comfortable you seemed to just stand there waiting.
“How was your date?” The curiosity was obvious in your voice but Richie didn’t allow himself to think anything of it as he raised his eyebrows in your direction.
A chuckle escaped him as he watched you look anywhere but his eyes, maybe this was your way of trying to keep the conversation cordial and make up for your snarky question. “What makes you think it was a date?”
“I…walked past your table when I got here.” He followed the motion of your head as you nodded to the restaurant, your eyes falling to his dress shoes afterward. “Seemed like you were having a good time.”
Richie shrugged his shoulder kicking a small pebble on the sidewalk, “Not as good as you and your date seemed to have.” He knew it wasn’t the answer you were expecting as he watched your eyebrows raise as you finally looked at him, but he hoped his curiosity would pay off.
As another silence settled between the two of you, Richie was sure that was his sign to leave. While the two of you could engage in conversations that lacked substance, maybe it was best not to push this moment between the two of you into hostile territory and just cut his losses when he could.
The sound of your voice made Richie’s brows raise as he listened to the timber of your voice dance through his eardrums. “What makes you think it was a date?” The slight uptick of the right side of your mouth had Richie biting back a smile of his own, a smile that he wasn’t interested in giving a second thought at that moment.
“The two of you seemed real chummy in that dimly lit corner. But you’re here and he isn’t so I’m not sure what to think anymore.” Richie wasn’t sure what forced the words out of him, but he couldn’t deny the enjoyment these less-than hostile borderline flirty moments between the two of you brought him.
His eyes tracked the way you began chewing on your bottom lip, a part of him hoped you were just as confused as him in the feelings department. “Now, what kind of person would I be if I made him choose between me and the surgery he was called into?”
A fucking surgeon of course. Richie couldn’t help but let his mind drift to your words in the restaurant about how he was four decades into life with nothing to show for it. The ice-cold claws of reality sank further into him as he stared at the small smirk that painted your lips clueless to the inner turmoil raging through him.
Richie shrugged, settling back into the cocky facade he always wore, “Seems to me like he didn’t make the right choice.”
The surprised laughter that forced its way out of your lips caused a genuine smile to grace Richie’s lips while he stood only feet from you watching you indulge in his stupid words as Chicago’s nightlife painted you in a cacophony of colorful light imprinting a most memorable image of your joy into his mind.
There were two options for Richie at that moment, end the conversation with you here and be on his merry way. Or he could offer you the ride he’d planned upon first walking over here and make sure you made it home safely; he decided on doing the latter.
Richie eyed you for a moment longer hyping himself up as his eyes landed on the naked skin of your shoulder one more time. His long legs closed the distance between the two of you before he reached his hand out, fingers tracing up your skin as he adjusted the strap in its rightful place, the appendages lingering longer than needed before he dropped his hand back to his side.
“You uh…want a ride home?”
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Silence wasn’t ever something that bothered you much, sometimes it was just nice to appreciate the moment without a bit of sound passing, but sitting in Richie Jerimovich’s car with nothing but the quiet sound of the radio station to fill the void of silence as he drove to your apartment bothered you more than you’d liked to admit.
And if the awkward car ride wasn’t enough here the two of you stood just outside your apartment door as you searched through your clutch for your keys. You couldn’t be sure what compelled you to invite him up or what even compelled him to accept the invitation but it felt too late to rescind the offer as you slipped your key into the lock, standing in the quiet hallway as the door knob gave way before moving to the next lock.
You could feel the heat of him against your back as you worked the lock, trying to ignore the involuntary goosebumps rising on your skin rushing to push through to your apartment before turning to him with a tight smile and gesturing him inside. You watched as he hesitated, probably as apprehensive as you considering your track record with each other before he stepped over the threshold into your abode allowing you to close and lock the door.
A quiet deep breath filled your lungs as you hyped yourself up for what you were about to do. In the short amount of time you’d known him, Richie Jerimovich was a consistent pain in your ass but you also couldn’t deny the sensual touches and hungry kisses the two of you shared in the parking lot all those nights ago, or the way you oftentimes found yourself thinking about the older man. And if you were being honest with yourself, you felt guilty for the scathing words you left him with when dropping Eva off.
Turning from the door your eyes landed on the back of his suit jacket watching as he stood in your living room with a framed picture in his hand. It wasn’t surprising that he would look around your home, but the sight of him in your space didn’t make you as uncomfortable as you first thought it would.
“Can I get you anything to drink?” You leaned against the island to take off your shoes as you let your question linger in the air, looking up to already find him staring at you, hands clutching the picture frame.
He cleared his throat before turning to place the frame back where he found it, “Just a water…please.”
You nodded, moving to the sink and washing your hands before grabbing two glasses out of the cabinet and filling them up with the filtered water from the fridge. You turned to find Richie standing opposite you on the other side of the island as you held out the glass to him ignoring the way his fingers brushed yours as he took hold of the glass.
“Thank you for driving me home tonight.” you paused as he shrugged off your words like they were no big deal. “I really appreciate it.”
This whole ordeal felt awkward, him sitting here in your home, the two of you playing at being cordial or whatever the hell this was, especially considering the few words he’d spoken since stepping in were curt with no room to continue the conversation.
“Don’t mention it,” he raised the glass of water to his lips taking a sip. “Should probably drive yourself if you plan on going on any more dates.”
You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your lips as you chuckled, knuckles drumming against the counter as Richie’s words of warning rang through your ear, an obvious shot at the fact he’d found you alone outside the restaurant waiting for the car that was sent for you.
“Why? You not gonna be there next time to take me home?” You raised your eyebrows letting him know his words weren’t as subtle as he might have thought they were.
“I dunno, you gonna invite me in if I do?” Richie’s lips pulled into a smirk as he watched the visible surprise encapsulate your face at the fact he was willingly bantering with you after all of the harsh words previously shared between the two of you.
Snatching the glass out of his hand you turned to refill his half-empty cup needing a moment to compose yourself before you allowed your interest in him to get the best of you and make a mistake you’d be sure to regret. Reminding yourself of the initial reason you invited him up with you, and it wasn’t for the two of you to go tit for tat with flirty words.
“I…uh,” you cleared your throat as you spun around to hand him the glass back. “I want to apologize for what I said to you…about you all those weeks ago.”
You watched as his lips settled into a grim line, eyes falling to your hands that sat between the two of you flat against the surface of the island. “It wasn’t fair of me to call your parenting into question. It’s really none of my business-”
“No uh, you were right,” you stopped mid-sentence as Richie’s voice interrupted you, confusion marred your features as he spoke once again. “I fuckin’ forgot about her.” The admission seemed to weigh heavy on him as you watched Richie sink in on himself, his shoulders losing the tenseness they usually held as he moved to sit on the stool at his side plopping down on it unceremoniously.
“That night she uh…Eva just started crying about how scared she was, how she thought she wouldn’t see me again. And it sounds ridiculous as I say it, but she’s a fuckin’ kid ya know everything is the end of the world to her.”
You didn’t interrupt him, allowing the man to speak about a situation that took up a lot of space in his mind. It wasn’t your place to listen and comfort the man across from you, but the two of you were already so messily entangled with each other that you couldn’t bring yourself to stop his venting.
“You uh…you didn’t deserve all that shit I gave you at the restaurant, I was just blaming you for my fuck up, using you as a fuckin’ punching bag. So I uh…I want to apologize 'cause I was being a fuckin’ jagoff disrepectin’ you and shit by bringing up the parking lot.” He’d finally looked up at you, his cheeks tinged pink in embarrassment looking as though he’d just been scolded for his transgressions against you.
“I’m sorry for speakin’ to you like that, it wasn’t right and you didn’t deserve it.” The intensity of his gaze froze you in your spot as he bestowed you with a proper apology. “And thank you for looking out for Eva the way you do.”
You nodded, sending him a tight smile as you let his words soak in appreciating the fact that he was aware of just how uncouth trying to shame you about the moment you shared with him in the parking lot was. If you were a worse person you would’ve allowed him to take the brunt of the blame, and as much as you hated admitting you were at fault for something, the least you could do was match his vulnerability with a sincere apology of your own.
“Thank you Mr. Jerimo-,” you paused as his index finger gently tapped the center of your palm, eyes landing on yours as he shook his head with a slight frown, the understanding washed over you immediately. “Richie…thank you for apologizing. But you should know that I only said those things out of anger, and I know that’s no excuse…I just lashed out intending to hurt you. And I’m sorry for using your insecurities against you.”
It felt immature as the words left your lips, finally speaking aloud your reasoning for even insinuating that he was a bad parent. And maybe it was just wishful thinking but it felt as though the two of you understood each other just a bit more, not that the conversation was deep enough for anything of the sort but through all your run-ins with him you’d gathered that he didn’t respond well to his parenting being called into question.
Your eyes fell to your palm where the pad of his finger remained, the lightest bit of pressure still there. The organ in your chest picked up speed as you watched the appendage slowly begin moving further across your palm skating closer and closer to your pulse point all you could do was watch, the feeling of yearning you felt just a few short months ago returning more intensely than the last time.
“Eva has a bracelet similar to this.” His whisper was accompanied by his thumb swiping across the skin of your wrist just under the material of the bracelet. You felt frozen as his eyes looked up to meet yours, thumb grazing back and forth as he waited for an answer.
You gave a slight nod trying to ignore how touch-starved you felt, the calloused pad of his thumb provided you with such a small comfort you weren’t aware you were yearning for. “I know,” your eyes bounced between his eyes. “It was the last day of school activity I did with the kids.”
Richie’s thumb caressed the vein on your wrist once more, a gentle back-and-forth guiding motion. You watched as a tiny grin curved the side of his mouth, and his eyes fell back to the accessory snuggly wrapped around your wrist.
He thought it was cute the way you wore something you made with your students long after they moved on from you. His heart warming at the thought of Eva being taught by someone as thoughtful and as kind as you, well at least when it comes to children. A stray thought raced through his mind wondering if life would ever offer him the chance of surrounding himself with someone like you. As his thumb continued to absentmindedly trace back and forth across your pulse point he came to the harrowing realization that what he longed for wasn’t someone like you; it was you.
You watched in real-time as the small smile dropped from Richie’s lips and his thumb stilled on your wrist before snatching his arm away as though he’d been burned. Your eyebrows creased in confusion at the visceral reaction making you question if you did something to unknowingly cause it.
Richie’s tall figure rising from the barstool guided your eyes, “Thanks for the water, but I should head out.” His words sent a wave of dismay through you as you quickly schooled your features, nodding along to his words as you tried to put on a neutral front watching as he walked around the island towards the front door.
You followed after him, mind straying to the article of clothing that hung in your closet. He hadn’t asked for it back but you intended to return it to him all this time and the longer you stood there thinking about it the harder it felt to willingly part with the jacket. Was it weird of you to want to keep it for just a little longer? The thought left as easily as it came when Richie began unlocking your door and another more pressing matter came to the forefront of your mind.
“Richie,” his slender form turned around faster than you expected and you looked into his eyes unsure of how to word your next sentence, the fleeting idea of asking him to stay crossed your mind before you wrangled your thoughts and settled back on your initial inquisition. “I uh know it’s been a few months but I just wanted to make sure…no one knows about that night, right?”
You felt vulnerable under his stare as you watched his eyes flash in recognition slowly roving over your figure, drinking you in like you were the last bit of water on earth before he cleared his throat looking into your eyes once more, a slight dusting of pink atop his cheeks. You held his gaze trying to ignore the tension-filled air as you were more than positive both of you were silently remembering the short-lived affair of that night.
A quiet intake of breath filled the living area of your apartment as you allowed Richie to close the distance between the two of you, his fingers slowly reaching out entangling with yours, the two of you enraptured by the other’s stare. A moment of silence passed between the two of you before his unoccupied hand hesitantly reached up nimble digits softly ghosting the side of your neck, eyebrows raising in question as you offered him a small nod of approval before his hand came to gently grip your neck, his gaze never once leaving yours.
“I told you that night nothing was gonna happen didn’t I?” The way the rough pad of his thumb stroked back and forth against the side of your neck had your eyes fluttering shut as you leaned further into his body head slowly nodding along to his words. “No one saw us. I promised you that…and I wasn’t gonna let anything happen to you even if someone did.”
Your eyes fluttered open as you felt the breath of his sentence against your lips. The hand entangled with your fingers slowly traced a path up your arm guiding over the bracelet on your wrist and ghosting over your pulse point before settling on your tricep, his thumb massaged gentle circles into the muscle in tandem with his other thumb moving from caressing the side of your neck to your jawline.
The two of you easily could’ve stayed in that position all night just basking in each other’s gaze, the both of you teetering dangerously on the edge of this will they won’t they game you both seemed adamant to indulge in. You found yourself standing in his embrace imagining what things would be like between the two of you if that night went further than it did, maybe you wouldn’t be standing here in your apartment wishing that one of you was brave enough to make the next move and send the two of you spiraling into whatever kept drawing you back to the other.
It was almost imperceptible and if it wasn’t for his nose gently bumping against yours as he breathed you wouldn’t have realized he leaned in. You wanted more than a lean in, you wanted to feel his kiss against your lips, to allow his work-weathered hands to map out your body. But as you searched his eyes you realized his uncertainty matched yours, you could meet him halfway easily and maybe that’s all you needed to do. To let Richie know you were just as unsure as he was, but you were willing to test the waters as long as he was.
A moment of hesitation passed before your eyes fluttered shut once more as an insurmountable amount of want swelled in you as you allowed yourself to take what you wanted, what was willfully being offered to you. Your free hand reached up to press into Richie’s chest just before you leaned in softly slotting your lips against his, pressing a gentle apprehensive kiss onto his lips appreciating the way his hand just under your jaw gave a slight squeeze when you moved to pull away, carefully keeping you in place increasing the tenderness of the kiss, the hairs of his mustache tickling the tip of your nose.
Pushing off his chest caused your lips to slowly detach from his, your eyes not daring to open as his forehead pressed into yours, lips ghosting together with each breath you shared. You could feel his hand flexing against your neck, your hand burning as you felt his heartbeat against it. A gasp escaped your lips as his hand left your bicep to grip the other side of your neck tilting your head back just slightly, your eyes shot open to quietly watch as one of his thumbs glided across the seam of your lips with a sense of awe.
Richie’s pupil seemed to swallow the blue of his irises as you looked into his eyes watching in wait as his eyes darted around your face cataloging whatever features he could get his eyes on before finding yours once more. On instinct your hand that wasn’t on his chest moved to grip his left wrist, fingers delicately tracing the veins on his hand before subtly turning your face into his wrist and placing a lingering kiss to his pulse point relishing in the quiet groan that rumbled through his chest.
Having Richie in your apartment like this was dangerous, but as the shrill ringtone of an incoming call rang through your apartment you couldn’t help but feel disappointed that another moment with the man was interrupted, maybe for the best. You weren’t sure if the deep breath he let loose was in disappointment or relief as the heat of his forehead moved from yours followed by the roughness of his palms and he stepped out of your space before reaching into his pocket to pull out his phone.
“Hey little monster what’s going on?” You watched Richie’s back as he spoke into the phone shame filling you at the thought of telling him not to answer when the phone initially rang now that you knew it was Eva on the other line.
You tried to calm your racing heart hoping it wasn’t visibly obvious just how much the man affected you in such little time. You weren’t sure what to do with yourself having never felt awkward and out of place in your apartment before, knowing that you looked ridiculous just standing where the older man left you as you tuned out his conversation, instead moving to the frame he picked up earlier and adjusting it to its rightful place so you at least didn’t look like you were just waiting for him to finish his conversation.
The clearing of Richie’s throat from where you left him had you spinning around to face him trying to keep your eyes locked on his face even though seeing him stand there with his tie loosened and hands in his slacks made your mind race with dozens of scenarios.
“I should be getting home.” Richie’s rough voice reached your ears and the earlier disappointment returned tenfold.
You nodded, sending a forced understanding smile his way, moving to once again close the distance between you two only stopping just before you invaded his personal space folding your hands in front of yourself and trying to appear as unaffected as possible. “Thank you for the ride, I'll uh pay you back.”
“You think I helped you today 'cause I wanted somethin’ from you?” His voice dropped an octave as he straightened up eyes moving all across your face as he awaited your response.
You hesitantly shook your head at his words unsure if you could string a coherent sentence together with the way just his look heated you. You stood silent as he took a step forward invading your personal space once more, not that you minded as you allowed his hands to grip your waist lazily holding you in place as though he knew you had zero urge to be rid of him or his touch.
No words were spoken as you allowed his hand to slowly glide from its place on your hip up the curve of your torso biting your lip at the touch before once more finding purchase cupping the underside of your jaw and forcing you to hold his stare.
“I helped you because I wanted to.” His hand slowly began its descent down your neck before skating across the bare skin of your clavicle and landing atop the strap of your dress, fingers gently playing with the fabric. “Don’t think you owe me anything for it okay?”
Richie’s eyebrows raised as several seconds ticked by without a response from you, hand giving a soft squeeze to your shoulder in a bid for you to show him you understood.
“Okay.” Your voice was nothing more than a whisper as you gently nodded enraptured with the trance he seemed to put you in.
“Good,” the timber of his voice was punctuated by his thumb and forefinger slowly pushing the strap of your dress off your shoulder, leaving the skin fully exposed to the cool air of your apartment, his eyes burning into you as he caressed the space your strap once sat. “You should get out of these clothes and get some sleep.”
You stood still as he leaned in to place a soft kiss on your forehead before removing himself and leaning in to brush an opened mouth kiss against the skin of your shoulder. He pulled back before you could even ask for more, you watched as he gave you one more longing look before turning his back to you and taking his leave.
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Quiet music drifted through your apartment as you sat in your living room. A relaxing glass of wine sat on the coffee table next to the puzzle you started working on not long after Xiomara left, your nighttime shower and skincare routine having already been knocked out. You usually didn’t stay up this late, but your weekly dinner with Xio ended later than usual as the two of you filled each other in on anything interesting that happened in your lives, including your little back-and-forth with a certain older man.
The sound of knocking drew your attention, you brushed it off as your neighbor. They were always up doing random shit at this time. Another round of knocks led your eyes to your door. You realized there in fact was someone knocking on your door at almost midnight. You were happy to just ignore it as it seemed whoever the culprit was gave up due to the silence but the sound of quiet cursing raised your curiosity so you rose from your position on the floor deciding to check the peephole.
As you gazed through the peephole you were surprised to see Richie’s figure turning to head back down the hallway presumably to the elevator. Confusion swept through you as you tried to think of any reason he would be at your door so late at night only to come up empty. In a split second without much thought, you were undoing the locks on your door before swinging it open.
“Richie?” Your quiet call of his name stopped him in his tracks, eyes burning into his back as you waited for him to face you curious about his presence. “It’s almost midnight, is everything okay?”
You tried to think of any reasons he would be in the hallway leading to your apartment at this time, surprised to see that he even remembered where you lived. He spun on his heel to face you, your eyes darted around his figure to make sure there wasn’t anything physically wrong with him but found he seemed to be unscathed dressed in what you were still getting used to being his usual attire; a dress shirt and tie with slacks sans a jacket.
His lack of speaking was worrying you, and you were sure a few nosy neighbors would quickly poke their heads out if you continued speaking out into the hallway any longer.
“Did you want to…come in?” The confusion was evident in your voice but you felt relieved as he gave a slight nod before making his way back to your door and stepping into your apartment. He walked past you as you closed and locked your door trying to figure out what the next steps were in this situation.
You moved to walk around him, sending a small smile his way as his eyes followed you, “Are you sure you’re okay? Do you need me to call anyone?”
It was like Richie realized just how weird he was being showing up on your doorstep late at night, offering you no words or explanation. Maybe it was the worry in your voice that finally got through to him. “No sorry I uh,” he paused, clearing his throat before settling into the man you were used to interacting with, taking a small step forward into your space. “I wanted to see you.”
The sincerity in his words took you by surprise, and a flurry of emotions swam through you, relief that nothing was seriously wrong with the man followed by a fluttering in your chest at the idea of him randomly showing up on your doorstep just to see you.
“Oh.” The lackluster reply was the best you could do as you tried to reign in the way a simple sentence made you feel.
Richie’s chuckle drew you from the thoughts racing in your mind eyes meeting his as he watched you, almost like he could see your thought process, “You uh look pretty busy though sorry for interruptin’ you.”
You followed as his eyes looked to the coffee table over your shoulder, a smile lining your lips as you turned to look back at him, a false sense of confidence radiating through you. You reached out for one of his hands taking a step forward to close the minuscule distance separating the two of you and gazing into his eyes as your chest brushed against his with every breath.
“Did you want to help?” You couldn’t help the way your eyes trailed from his eyes to his lips then to his Adam’s apple as he swallowed. Your mind envisioned a myriad of sinful ideas about his beard before you cleared your throat to find his gaze once more.
A more serious look settled across his face as his own eyes were preoccupied with something else before he gave a small nod in agreement.
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“Yo no! There’s no fuckin’ rules to puzzles.” Richie’s voice boomed through your apartment as he pointed at the puzzle pieces in front of each of you.
Laughter bubbled out of you at how passionate his argument was becoming, you weren’t sure if it was the wine getting to you or if the lack of animosity between the two of you was finally allowing you to relax in Richie’s presence.
The pounding on your kitchen wall made you jump in your seat surprised by the noise but unsurprised by the yelling that followed, “Shut the fuck up over there!”
“Oh fuck you!”
You raised a finger to your lips trying to get Richie to quiet down as you fought to control your laughter, not wanting to wake up with a noise complaint taped to your door. You watched as the frown on Richie’s face smoothed out before a smile grew on his face and his laughter emerged.
A small smile remained on your face as you replied to Richie’s earlier grievance, “Everyone knows you build the border of the puzzle first.” You pointed down to the border you’d barely added to since Richie’s arrival, instead allowing him to regale you with what his night consisted of, surprised to find that he’d been just a floor below you for most of the night with friends and you never would’ve known if he hadn’t decided to visit you.
Richie sucked his teeth before looking at the puzzle pieces you pointed at, shaking his head as though they offended him, “No, you leave the border for last cause it’s the easiest. Brings the whole picture together.”
You didn’t want to admit that his point was valid so you shook your head in disagreement, “Come on, building the border is like building the foundation of the puzzle.” Your hand traced the bit you’d put together so far before motioning to the irregular-shaped pieces. “Then you just keep building it up piece by piece, the fun is in realizing that even if certain pieces don’t fit together everything has its rightful place and once you’ve done all the building you get to see all your work pay off.
The weight of Richie’s gaze felt heavy on you as he allowed your words to sink in, having no initial comeback wasn’t something you were used to. You gave him a small smile the longer he stared at you before fingering through the puzzle pieces and deciding to continue it.
“You always spew weirdly poetic shit at 1 a.m.?” The smile in Richie’s voice was apparent before you even looked up, his lips upturned softly as he stared at your hands idly messing with the pieces on his side of the coffee table.
You shrugged your eyes shooting at his pile of pieces before reaching over to grab a piece that looked like it might fit, “I’m usually not entertaining guests past midnight.”
Richie gave a noncommittal hum of acknowledgment as his focus landed back on the puzzle pieces scattered around the table, the two of you basking in each other's calming presence as you worked to finish the puzzle, quiet words exchanged regarding which pieces fit where.
With a quarter of the puzzle left to complete you found your eyes straying to Richie more often than probably necessary, watching the concentration on his face as he aligned pieces where they fit. It was odd seeing him so calm in your presence considering how rocky your relationship started with him, you didn’t think you’d ever willingly let him into your safe space let alone enjoy having him there.
“How’s that doctor of yours?” Richie’s words pulled you from your study of him.
Confusion marred your features at the tightness of his voice, he showed up on your doorstep at one in the morning and that’s what he was fucking asking you about?
He caught your eye as he looked up eyebrows raised in question, “I can give you his number if you’re that interested in him.”
The loud scoff from across the table made you smile, “What about you? Any luck with the dating apps?”
Richie’s knee knocked against yours and you weren’t sure if it was on purpose or accident, but as you looked up you realized he’d been watching you for some time, “Decided I’m done with all that shit.”
A chill raced down your spine at how sure he sounded, and maybe it was wishful thinking or you were just being full of yourself, but you couldn’t help but think you were the reason for that decision. You cleared your throat unsure of what to say as you let your attention fall back to the puzzle on the table, it was comical the ease with which you could argue with the older man. But these polite flirtatious conversations just felt different, the underlying tension in them felt different and you weren’t sure how to go about dealing with it. The quiet clearing of Richie’s throat and the slight removal of his knee from the space your legs were internally made you cringe. He was expecting a much different reaction from his statement.
Quiet descended upon the two of you once more as you tried to keep your focus on finishing the puzzle, only for your mind to constantly drift with all the things you wanted to admit to Richie in that moment. You remembered clearly the day when he told you all those months ago that you were a constant in his mind and now all you could do was wonder if this is what it felt like for him. The way your mind latched onto him after the parking lot didn’t feel healthy but you couldn’t pretend you didn’t want more of his time, more of his presence even when he pissed you off to no end.
You smiled to yourself at the thought of it all, once more looking up from the puzzle to find Richie so engrossed with the pieces he was putting together. You couldn’t be sure but outside of Eva being around, this felt like the calmest you’d seen him in your presence. The tension in his shoulders seemed almost nonexistent, his face was relaxed and not at all filled with whatever stress the day brought him. It was like a different person was sitting in your living room, no animosity filled the air between the two of you and the longer you let your eyes rove his face the more confident you were that you liked this version of Richie best.
Hesitantly your hand reached across the table before gently landing atop Richie’s, watching as his eyes moved from the puzzle pieces to your hand on his then to your face. You bit your bottom lip before speaking, “If I asked you to stay the night only because I was worried about you getting home safely what would you say to that?”
The thudding of your heart made you sure it was trying to beat out of your chest the longer Richie sat there staring at you without saying anything. A part of you wished you could take it back, it was a lame excuse, but you could never be too sure with the older man and this option seemed to offer less teasing than if you asked him to spend the night with you outright.
“I would say,” His words were followed by his hand turning over so his palm was just under yours, the roughness of his fingertips brushing against your wrist as he held your gaze. “It’d be rude of me to disregard your hospitality, leave you here all alone late at night worried about me. So I’d stay to ease your worries.”
“Good.” A small knowing smile lined your lips before you removed your hand from under his, making sure to grab your empty wine glass and standing.
As you made it to the sink and began washing out the glass, you felt like you were too far out of your depth. Maybe you overestimated whatever false confidence being around Richie gave you, but didn’t you deserve to go after something you wanted? Richie was an adult and you were sure if he had no interest he would’ve left whenever he was ready, hell he wouldn’t have even shown up in the first place. You rinsed out the glass before setting it on the drying mat.
You turned to find Richie sitting on your couch with the book from the side table in his hands. Smiling as you walked towards him stopping to stand in front of him as he looked up at you, the desire to touch him had your hands pushing his legs apart giving you enough space to stand in between them as he leaned back further into the couch manspreading gently placing your book down next to him.
Your hands unconsciously rubbed up and down the fabric over his thighs as you stood as close to him as the couch would allow, your right hand slowly traced up his thigh following the anatomy of his body up his torso before your hand landed on his slightly loosened tie.
“You know for a while, I couldn’t stop thinking about that night…thinking about you,” you paused as your fingers nimbly began to undo his tie. “And then you drove me home last week and for a moment I thought I’d finally be able to have you in the way I wanted.”
The warmth of his hand reaching out to cup the back of your thigh raised your confidence even higher, carefully climbing atop his lap as he tugged you closer caging him in between your legs. Your hands landed on his shoulder before caressing down his chest and landing on the top button of his dress shirt. Richie’s hands landed upon your own, your lust-filled eyes taking in the apprehensive look on his face. You paused, unsure of yourself before you moved to get up only to stop when his hand fell to your waist keeping you in place.
“Did I do something wrong?” Your brows furrowed in confusion and you couldn’t help how small and insecure your voice sounded.
You moved your hands back to his shoulders trying to create a bit of space between you two looking at a spot over his head instead of at him.
“No, hey look at me,” one of Richie’s hands moved up to cup your chin, gently turning you to face him.“All of this shit…it’s just new to me you know I don’t know how to do this casual shit.” His thumb lightly rubbed across your chin, the vulnerability in his eyes and words keeping you locked in.
“I haven’t done shit like this in years, never thought I’d be divorced trying this shit again. Believe me, I want tonight with you, but what happens after that? Am I supposed to just fuck off and act like I don’t want more with you?”
Slowly your hand moved across his shoulder before softly cupping the side of his neck. It wasn’t the time to mention it but you couldn’t help but feel even more attracted to the man in front of you as he shared the insecurities he was feeling about the growing attraction between the two of you.
“You enjoy tonight,” your thumb traced a path up the side of his neck eliciting a shiver. “We indulge in each other, in our desires and then we go from there. Maybe breakfast in the morning.” You smiled at him watching the tense line of his silhouette relax. “I don’t know what’s going to come from this…but I know I don’t want this to just be one night.”
Your words lingered in the air as the two of you stared at each other, Richie’s smile growing to match yours as the two of you kept your hands on each other's skin. The way Richie stared at you brought back that familiar warmth he always seemed to elicit within you, his pupils slowly dilated as they roved over your face.
The previous tension between the two of you before the turn of conversation ignited once more, your eyes locked on the others as though in a trance. The feeling of his fingertips tracing the skin of your bottom lip made you feel dizzy at the thought of how easy it would be for him to touch you however he wanted, sent a surge of desire coursing through you. You could see the realization flash across his face his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as his fingers that once pressed into your hip began a featherlight trail under your shirt and up the skin of your back, your teeth latching onto your bottom lip at the delicate touches your eyes fluttered as he traced his way along your spine your shirt rising the higher his hand moved his fingers ghosted across the space between your shoulder blades pushing you further into his chest.
Richie’s hand gently grazed down your back leaving goosebumps in its wake as it found your hip once more pulling you down against him your quiet moan being drowned out by his unabashed groan as you settled atop him relishing in the way the hardness in his pants pressed up against you. His mouth fell open as his blunt nails dug into the skin of your hip before his hand skirted down the side of your hip traveling further and further before it met the skin of your leg below the hem of your sleep shorts, his calloused hand running just under the cut of your ass before cupping the back of your thigh, the heat from the palm of his hand warmed your thigh before he gripped your skin his thumb located near your groin slipping under the fabric of your shorts to caress the junction of your hip so close to where you wanted to feel him most a wanton moan escaping you as you unconsciously trapped his hand between your bodies and began rubbing yourself against him needing any bit of reprieve you could get.
His labored breathing hit your face as you allowed yourself to grind against him without consequence, your eyes fluttering in pleasure at not only the feeling but the way he was allowing you to use him to make yourself feel every bit of pleasure you deserved to feel. A high pitched keen left your lips as his free hand tugged the collar of your shirt before attaching his lips to your neck sucking and biting any piece of skin he could get his mouth on.
“R-Richie.” Your moan of his name was followed by his hips rutting up into you, his mouth falling open against your collarbone as he spewed out soft curses against your skin. It was all too much and not enough at once a part of you having no problem dry-humping your way to an orgasm but selfishly you wanted him in every way he was willing to give himself to you. You wanted to know how his body would feel against yours, what he looked like under all the layers of clothing separating the two of you, what he felt like. You needed to know what he would look like atop you and what expressions would he make as he fucked himself into you, in and out in and out. Or maybe missionary wasn’t his thing, what would it feel like if he took you from behind his body crowding you in would he be gentle or would he fuck you in the way he thought you deserved harsh thrusts and bruising slaps to your ass as he punished you for all the attitude you gave him.
The thoughts racing through your mind had you grinding down faster and harder than you previously were. The tension building inside of you on the cusps of shattering through you, just a little more, and you’d be convulsing against the man below you who brought out so many emotions in you. The rough feeling of his lips finding yours startled you not realizing that your equilibrium was off until your back pressed into the carpet below a muffled whine ringing through you at the loss of contact you were once grinding against.
“Quit your fuckin’ whining and let me take care of you,” you felt like you were going insane as his hands slowly slipped under the waistband of your shorts dragging them down your hips and legs at a painstakingly slow pace. “Been wanting you like this ever since that night in the fucking parking lot.” His words were so quiet you weren’t sure you would’ve heard them otherwise, your body clenching against nothing as the cool air of the living room met the slickness spread between your legs.
You sat up on your elbows watching from your position on the floor in a daze as Richie stood above you eyes glued to your cunt as he hastily unbuttoned his shirt shrugging out of it before pulling the white tank top beneath it over his head. You let out an appreciative moan at the sight of the softness of his body wanting to run your hands over the planes of his torso, lavish him with the attention he deserved. You pushed off your elbows on instinct fingers wrapping into the belt loops of his dress pants catching him off guard as your lips met the softness of his tummy leaving eager kisses to whatever spots you could reach as he towered over your sitting form. Your hands moved eagerly from their position, one fiddling with his belt buckle wanting him to feel half of the pleasure he brought you in such little time as the other palmed his bulge through the material.
A surprised gasp ripped through your lips as his hand found the back of his neck pulling you off of him, the desire swimming in his eyes heating you even more. His hand moved from the back of your neck before cupping your jaw and tilting your head further up, you were surprised by the softness of his kiss your eyes closing on instinct as you relaxed into him, his hand on your jaw squeezing as he snuck his tongue into your mouth the appendage running across your own several times over as you followed his lead the passion in which he kissed something you never experienced before. You began maneuvering around trying to raise yourself wanting to feel more of him against you, until he pulled away your shared saliva connecting the two of you as he looked down on you. There was only a moment’s reprieve before his mouth was on yours again his lips moving so slow and sensually, this kiss was different from the very few you shared with him both of his hands now cupping your jaw as he lavished you with everything he had his lips wrapping around your much smaller tongue his head bobbing back and forth as he slowly sucked on your tongue before reluctantly pulling himself away, your eyes finally opening at the feel of his thumb caressing your cheek as he stared down at you with a look you couldn’t quite place.
“Lay back f’me.” Richie’s words were whispered against your lips as you mindlessly obeyed lifting your shirt from under your bottom before leaning back on your elbows and then flat on your back.
You could hear his breath hitching as you found the confidence to spread your legs open so every bit of you was on full display. You waited in anticipation listening as he undid his belt before his pants landed somewhere away from the two of you, he gripped your ankle first, fingers skating up the skin of your leg in a slow almost teasing way as he traced a path up to your hip hand gliding across the skin of your stomach before stopping at the hem of your shirt and gently pushing it over the curve of your breast.
There wasn’t any time for nervousness to grip you as he settled between your legs, his head bending as he placed a soft kiss into the center of your chest. You could feel your heartbeat speed up as one of the hands he was using to hold himself up cupped the weight of your breast, the heat of his calloused palm drew a moan from you. A quiet gasp filled the living room as Richie kissed his way down your chest stopping to lavish your pebbled nipples in kisses before sucking one into his mouth.
The urge to cry out at finally being laid bare for him as he worked you up sat heavily in you. Your eyes fluttered shut as he rose from your breast with a pop. The cool air making it even harder as he moved to show your other nipple the same appreciation. The feel of his teeth grazing across the nerve jolted you a quiet whine followed the movement as you gave in to just how good he was making you feel. You enjoyed the last few moments of pleasure his mouth gave your chest before he began to leave wet kisses down your torso as your legs squeezed around him in search of friction.
Richie’s quiet laughter vibrated against the bottom of your stomach before he moved to scoot back dropping kisses to your hip as he settled himself at eye level between your thighs. His groan reached your ears as he stared at all of your bare to him a whispered “fuck” followed before his lips were attached to the inside of your thigh earning him a guttural moan.
A gasp rang through the air as you felt Richie’s finger slowly trace the circle of your anatomy, you strained to look down your body just as the tip of his finger ever so slightly stretched you out, your hooded gaze finding his blue eyes already staring at you a flush blooming across his face. He held your gaze as he followed the same circular motion this time pushing his finger into the second knuckle as you bit your lip knowing it was way too late in the night for the noises you wanted to make.
Richie’s finger slowly moved inside you experimentally before finding the pattern that made you clench around him and crooked his finger inside your expertly eyes never leaving yours. “You gonna let me hear those pretty noises while I eat you out?”
The rough timber of Richie’s voice had you clenching around his finger, his tongue poked out to lick his lips as he patiently awaited your response maneuvering his finger slower with each second that passed. Your head moved up and down rapidly, sure you’d begin crying if he teased you anymore. “Y-yes Richie, please.”
You were thankful for the care he took when removing his long finger, the feel of every inch of it reverberated through you. He gave you one last small smile before his head disappeared, arms moving to snake around your thighs as his hands landed atop of them wearing your legs over his shoulders as though they were roller coaster restraints.
The first lick of his tongue from your hole to your clit had your head thudding back against the floor ignoring the pain of it as you moaned. Richie’s teeth sinking into your inner thigh caused a delicious hiss of pain to race through you, “Be careful.” You hummed in acquiescence, anything to keep him pleasuring you.
Richie’s tongue pressed flatly against you licking several languid stripes through your folds, each stroke of his thick warm wet appendage mingled erotically with your slickness as the mixture of fluids slowly dripped down you. At the feel of his tongue dipping in and out of you your stomach constricted in pleasure before your hands found purchase on the back of his head trying to anchor yourself to this moment with him. Vibrations from his moans traveled through you adding to the building pleasure along with the way his nose caught your clit just right as he dined on you like a man starved.
You couldn’t help the way you began grinding against his face chasing your release. You’d never been catered to like this before and as his arms moved to hold you down, mouth traveling through your folds before suctioning to your clit you were sure you were seeing stars. The muscles in your stomach tightened the longer and harder he sucked on you, your head grew fuzzy as the knot in your stomach grew tighter, incoherent babbling falling from your lips with each moment.
A loud whine rang through the quiet of your apartment as you finally gave in to your orgasm, you convulsed against Richie’s mouth as the waves of pleasure flowed through you. The aftershocks of it all caused you to jolt against him as you rode through your orgasm, overstimulation brought you back down to earth as you struggled to sit up finding Richie still attached to you.
“R-Richie,” a moan cut off your plea as you found yourself struggling not to succumb to the wickedness of his tongue. “Too much, i-its too much.”
Slowly Richie released himself from your placing a gentle kiss against your clit that jolted you before he leaned back on his haunches eyeing how debauched you looked. Your eyes traced the wetness that decorated his chin following the trail of your slickness into his now shiny beard before landing on the wet spot on his chest as it rose and fell.
Seeing him like this had you clenching around nothing as your hooded eyes fell to his happy trail, wanting nothing more than to return the pleasure. A silent conversation passed between the two of you before Richie stood up causing you to eagerly rise to your knees as you shuffled over to him before hungrily pulling down his boxers.
You stared up at him in appreciation, allowing your eyes to take in every line of him. The softness of his body was a welcomed surprise, he was strong you could see it in his arms and legs, there was no denying that. But you could tell he enjoyed life, indulged in what he liked, no rigid routine of diet or exercise. As you drank him in you couldn’t help but let your eyes fall to the tuft of light brown hair between his legs home to the part of him you’d been waiting to experience.
Unconsciously you licked your lips before shuffling closer on your knees, one hand moving to grip his hip as you steadied yourself before holding the weight of him in your hand, marveling at his impressive erection. The feel of your hand softly caressing up and down his length drew a throaty groan from him as you watched pre-cum drip from his tip in pleasure.
You leaned forward tongue darting out instantly to swirl around the head of his cock needing to hear the noises he would elicit. You were rewarded with a softer moan looking up to see his head thrown back. Opening wide you took the weight of him in your mouth taking in what you could without gagging, moaning around him as the tuft of hairs gently touched your face. Richie’s moans of approval egged you on small back-and-forth movements were your starting point bobbing slowly against him with your eyes closed as sucking him off increased your pleasure.
As you bobbed faster against him your nails dug into the flesh of his hip, your tongue swirling around him as you listened to his mumbled curses. Richie’s hand moved to settle against your neck anticipation growing in you as you waited for him to fuck your face only to be disappointed when he gently pulled you off of him spittle on your lip the only thing connecting you to his cock.
You looked up in confusion, chest rising and falling rapidly as you fought to steady your breathing. Before you could question him he was leaning down to meet you the softness of his kiss not matching your previously voracious ministrations. You leaned into the kiss not at all minding how slowly his lips moved against you passion radiating through both ends of the kiss both of you getting a taste of the other.
Richie’s lips chased yours as you pulled away his eyes slowly opened to find you already staring at him, he cupped your jaw pressing a kiss into your forehead before helping you to stand. Once you were steady on your feet you placed your hand on his chest guiding him back into the loveseat in the corner of your living room watching as his body unceremoniously plopped down, his legs spread wide as his erection bounced off the surface of his stomach.
You moved to kneel in front of him once more, stopping as a hand gripped the front of your sleep shirt pulling on it to get you to climb atop him, resuming your earlier position. You sat above him on your knees, hands resting against his shoulders to hold yourself up doing your best to ignore just how close he was to being inside you.
“What’re you poutin’ for?” Richie’s voice was quiet as his fingers tapped against your lips.
You hadn’t meant to showcase your discontent but now that he brought it up you felt comfortable in voicing what bothered you. “Why’d you stop me?” You realized how immature your ire was as you spoke the words, annoyance growing towards yourself as you were sure you ruined the night.
“It’s nothin’ against you I promise,” his free hand moved to your side skating under your shirt to caress the bare skin of your hip. “Just not sure I’d be able to give you more if I let you do that.”
It was like every little thing about this man kept turning you on, understanding washed over your face as you pulled your lip between your teeth having to stop yourself from sinking onto him. The wheels turn in your head at just how starved of intimacy he must be.
“Has it been that long?” You weren’t sure why you asked, you had zero desire to hear about the intimacy he shared with anyone else but his explanation made you curious.
Your hands unconsciously rubbed into his shoulders helping him to release any tension this intermission might have brought forth.
“Too long,” you bit back a moan as both of his hands skated along the naked skin of your hips, dipping so close to where you wanted him. “I take care of myself though.”
His answer intrigued you, just thinking about him alone in his home late at night using his hand to pleasure himself. You hummed in interest as you looked down on him, your right hand on his shoulder traced a path down his chest appreciating the fact you were finally able to touch the softness of him. Your hand continued traveling down running through his happy trail before finally gripping him in your hand finding him still semi-heard as he moaned at the feeling of your hand wrapped around him.
You languidly stroked him a few times watching the motion as you did so before looking back up at him to find his head tossed back against the loveseat, your free hand moving to grip his chin and force him to focus on you.
“What do you think about when you touch yourself,” you lowered yourself just enough to run the tip of his cock through your wetness choking down a moan. “Because I think about you.”
Richie let out a quiet curse before speaking. “Yeah?” His voice was breathy as he forced himself to hold your stare, his hands pressed into your hips with a vice-like grip as he helped to rock you back and forth against him.
“Mhmm,” you nodded your head trying to pretend you were unfazed by how delicious it felt every time his head caught your clit. “After you left my apartment the other night…I spread out right where you're sitting and played with myself wishing it was you.”
Richie let out a guttural groan as he thrusted up into your hand surging forward to attach his lips to your neck surprising you with the vigor alternating between open mouth kisses and sucking just hard enough for you to know where his lips decorated your neck through feeling alone, but not harsh enough to leave any evidence.
“You’re gonna fuckin’ kill me if you keep talking like this and don’t let me fuck you.” Richie’s hands raced over any inch of skin he could find just needing to touch you in any way possible.
You lined yourself up with him, drunk on the obvious need he was exhibiting and it was all because of you. Slowly you lowered yourself, relishing in the tip of his cock as it burrowed inside of you, the movement earned the older man's full attention.
“Who said you were fucking me?”
Richie looked at you, mouth slightly agape at the feel of you slowly sliding down onto him, twin moans filling the apartment. He groaned, hands sliding around your hips to grip the curve of your ass to help you start moving.
It started slow, far too slow for two people who weren’t even sure they meant anything to each other but neither of you mentioned that, eyes locked on each other as you placed your hands on his shoulders using them to help steady yourself. Up, down…up, down.
“Arms up pretty girl,” Richie’s command was almost so quiet you didn’t hear it stopping as he held you down against him, moaning at the way he brushed that spot inside you just so. His hands moved from their place on your backside before gently tugging the hem of your shirt over your head whispering his approval at having you naked atop him.
Your hands found his shoulders once more as you began to ride him again. Speeding up as his lips found the curve of your breast and kissed across them. Richie filled you so well the length of him hitting just where you needed every time.
“That’s it, keep ridin’ me just like that. Fuck!” You threw your head back moaning at Richie’s words clenching around him at the idea of being coached through an orgasm he gave you.
A sharp gasp escaped you as he grabbed your backside once more, anchoring himself so he could thrust up into you helping add to your pleasure. You hadn’t been riding him for long but everything about this man drove you crazy, your up-and-down motions growing more restless the harder he thrust into you.
You arched against him, hands finding the back of his thighs as you rode him like your life depended on it chasing the high your last orgasm brought you.
“You look so pretty like this, you know that right? Look so pretty ridin’ me f-fuckin’ usin’ me to get off.” Richie’s hoarse voice was going straight to your clit encouraging you to keep going even though your quads burned. “Say it.”
A quiet hum of agreement left your lips as you continued your ministrations the pleasure you searched for not far away. Richie’s hand roughly gripped your jaw pulling you from the world you were in, forcing you to look into his eyes the pupils having swallowed the blue of his irises. “Let me hear you say it?”
“W-what?”
The grinding of your hips slowed down once more as Richie held you there, his hips undulating at a slower pace as well. “Tell me h-how pretty you look r-ridin’ me.” He choked on his words as the two of you moved in sync taking in equal what you were giving back to each other.
You clenched around him, mouth falling open at his command unsure if you could get the words out before cumming. You moved atop him as he gave you a lazy nod encouraging you, you nodded along with him trying to work up the courage as your hand moved from his thigh to rest above his heart the thumping rhythm of it imprinted on your palm.
“I…” your words cut off as his hips languidly rolled into you, the hand on your jaw moving to the back of your neck to pull your face closer, your forehead pressing into his. “I look s-so pretty riding you…l-like this.”
It was a struggle to get the words out but the way you clenched around him told the both of you just how aroused you were by the simple words. Richie let go of your neck allowing you to move back if you chose to but enjoying the way you stayed close to him, lips brushing against his with each move of your hips. One of his hands slipped between your bodies pressing into your clit as he simultaneously bucked into you with a fierce pace fucking you just how you wanted.
You wrapped your arms around his neck messily following his thrust chasing the pressure that built up in your stomach. Your nails raked down his shoulders as you babbled incoherent pleas into his ear essentially begging him to let you come.
No sooner were the words out of your lips did you cry out in ecstasy, tears escaped the corner of your eyes at how forceful your orgasm was your teeth sunk into Richie’s shoulder as you tried to silence your sobs of bliss body convulsing against him for the second time that night as he helped you ride out your orgasm.
You collapsed against him in bliss boneless feeling your equilibrium shift once more, Richie gently laid you on the love seat, one leg kneeling atop the cushion while his other leg held him up never once disconnecting the two of you.
Richie’s hips pistoned into you at a punishing pace, his grip on your hips bordering on painful as he held your body in place from his harsh thrust. You struggled to keep your eyes open wanting to watch him come. Richie’s loud grunts drowned out your quieter moans, both noises combining as you watched in awe as Richie chased his orgasm, desire rising within you once more just watching Richie use you in the way you used him only moments ago.
You watched in anticipation as Richie’s face scrunched up in concentration, his thrust becoming sloppier by the minute. You wanted to reach out to touch him but felt too blissed out to get your motor skills working instead enjoying the show being put on for you. Richie gave you two more harsh thrusts before quickly pulling out of you causing you to hiss at the suddenness and watch hungrily as his hand pumped himself one final time before he spilled all over your stomach and cunt, the sight of Richie riding out his orgasm burned into your brain.
Richie collapsed atop you uncaring that his cum was getting all over him. His forehead rested against your upper chest, his panting breaths cooling your heated skin. The two of you lay there in silence for a while, your hand coming up to run through his hair as exhaustion settled into you. The feeling of lips pressing into your sternum forced your eyes to flutter open.
A lazy smile lined your lips as you tilted your head to find Richie’s forehead pressed into your chest as he pressed gentle kisses across your sternum. A soft giggle escaped you at the ticklish feeling his facial hair left behind watching as he looked up at you his exhaustion matched yours.
“We gotta get you cleaned up.” His voice was hoarse as he spoke to you with his cheek pressed into your skin.
You gave a noncommittal hum in agreement moving to sit up as Richie stood hands out to help you up. You pulled him behind you as you headed to the shower ignoring the way Richie perked up as the two of you entered your bedroom before reaching the bathroom, moving to turn the shower on and waiting for the water to heat up.
Richie helped you step into the shower before willfully following after you. You stood under the water with your head resting on Richie’s chest letting the warmth relax your muscles as Richie wrapped his arms around you pressing a kiss into the crown of your head.
The end of your night was spent pressed against the shower wall as Richie sensually fucked into you from behind, both of you indulging in everything the other had to offer. Before you both finally showered and got into bed, the softness of Richie’s fingers tracing patterns into your skin lulled you into a peaceful sleep engulfed in his warmth.
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a/n: ayee yo they fuckin’ over here!!! i swear i’m so funny anyway here’s part 2 finally its long but worth it i promise. i hope anyone that dedicated their time to this tome of a fic enjoyed it and your days are forever filled with joy. also talk to me about it i love shootin the shit about the unhinged fics i write. anyway love y’all besties!!! 🫶🏽💕
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sunsetchicane · 3 months ago
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i love you, i'm sorry [QH43]
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quinn hughes x fem!reader
word count: 2.9k
summary: two years after breaking things off with Quinn, you find yourself going to Game 1 of Round 2 of the Playoffs, completely unprepared to see the man you still harbour feelings for.
based off of: this is loosely based off of I Love You, I'm Sorry by Gracie Abrams
warnings: aggressive amounts of pining (like, probably annoying), two swear words, a few kisses, mentions of a breakup (so like, kinda angst? idk man), copious amounts of cheesiness, probably extremely inaccurate descriptions of the game, not great writing lol. let me know if i missed anything!
author's note: okay, i haven't written anything on here yet due to a horrendous case of writer's block and many hours of working. so, this is definitely not my best work, but it was a fun way to try move past my writing slump. i really do hope that anyone who reads this does enjoy! love, addi <3
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Vancouver’s streets preserve memories well. You found that out when, even two years after things had fallen to pieces, you couldn’t go anywhere without seeing the two of you holding hands, sharing quiet laughs, and stealing kisses. You’d thought that after two years you would’ve been able to shake those memories off when they plagued your mind; but it was hard when he was plastered across banners and fans sported his jersey for half the year. 
He was making his name known throughout the NHL, and you couldn’t ignore the buzz around Quinn Hughes when the Canucks made it to the Stanley Cup Playoffs. 
After you and Quinn had broken things off, you had to find separate friend groups to belong in. The two of you had shared too many mutual friends. The group of ladies you did manage to find yourself among knew nothing about your past relationship with the captain of the Canucks. When the city was gearing up for the first round of the playoffs, even your friends couldn’t stop talking about the sport. 
You were standing outside, leaning against the railing on a BC ferry, returning from visiting family on the Island, when you received a call from your friend Lydia. You picked up without hesitation. 
“Hey, what’s up?” you asked. 
She immediately giggled, which honestly had you a little scared. “I have a surprise,” she said excitedly, the last word dragged out. 
You snorted. “Am I allowed to ask what it is?” 
“It’s a really big surprise, and you have to promise not to scream when I tell you,” she laughed, acting like a teenage girl again. It was one of the things you really did love about her – her ability to bring childlike joy with her wherever she went. 
“I promise not to scream, Lyd,” you assured her, hoping she was satisfied. 
She paused for dramatic effect, and you let her. You knew she was having fun with it. 
“We’re going to the first game of round 2 of the playoffs!” she squealed. 
Your phone nearly slipped through your fingers, almost lost to the sea. You stepped away from the railing, suddenly very glad there was no one on the deck with you. Your heart clenched in your chest. The last time you had been to a game was when you and Quinn had still been together. He wouldn’t even know you were in the crowd, but you would be painfully aware of him in the centre of the arena. 
“Okay, you’re even quieter than I thought you’d be,” Lydia commented, reminding you that there was someone on the other end of the line. 
You debated for a moment what to say. Would it best to just blurt out that you had dated Quinn Hughes and you were not exactly ready to go watch him play again? Definitely not. 
“Uh, yeah, I’m just surprised!” That wasn’t a lie. “How’d you get the tickets?” 
“My dad,” she said simply. “When I told him I wanted to go see the Canucks, he was suddenly the proudest parent in the world. You know how he is – once he gets an idea in his head, whether it’s planted there by me or not, he has to do it.” 
“Wow, that’s–that’s crazy!” you said stiffly, still unsure of how to act. 
“Yeah, and it gets better! We’re sitting right behind the Canucks’ bench!” 
You nearly choked on nothing. “What?” 
“I know, right? I don’t know how my dad managed it, but he did,” she told you, completely unaware of your stuttering heart. “Who knows, maybe we’ll catch some players’ eyes,” she joked, and you tried to force a laugh out with her. 
“Yeah, maybe.” What you didn’t add out loud was your brain screaming please no. 
After a few more minutes of chatting and you pretending to be completely sound of mind, Lydia said goodbye, telling you she would send the details soon. 
You pocketed your phone and leaned against the railing once more. You watched as the sun brushed the horizon, casting a beautiful pink against the clouds. Vancouver was getting close, and for obvious reasons, you were suddenly dreading it. You wanted to sit on the ferry until it returned to Vancouver Island. 
You sighed and rested your chin on your folded arms. You heard a faint buzzing sound above you, and lifted your eyes to the sky. A plane was coming to land at the Vancouver Airport. As it approached, you let yourself imagine it was Quinn flying back from Nashville, and you felt your heart tighten in your chest once more, because you were terrified to see him again, but also because you still missed him. Maybe you were scared to see him because you missed him. 
You dropped your forehead to your arms once more and groaned loudly, the ocean and the brightening city lights your only listening companions. 
When the morning of May 8th arrived, you found yourself unable to shake the anxiety that had made a home in your chest over the last few days. There was a tenseness in your shoulders that never left, and a squeezing at your heart that seemed relentless. 
The group chat you shared with your friends had been buzzing incessantly, the girls incredibly excited. Every now and then you made your fingers put a message out there that hopefully hid your anxieties from them. 
After much procrastination, you eventually made your way to your closet. After tugging on a simple pair of blue jeans, you reached towards the back of your closet. Your fingers closed around the unmistakable, thick material of the jersey. Taking a deep breath, you pulled it out. Your only Canucks jersey of course, had to be Quinn’s home jersey from two seasons ago. No one would know it was the jersey that he had pulled over his head before every home game. However, you knew. There was no C on the left side of the chest, and your mind was pulled back to the relationship you had shared.  
You often questioned why you and Quinn had even ended things. You missed him so much still, and you were plagued by the way you knew it had been the wrong choice. You had been growing apart as he was dealing with growing attention and expectations within his career, and a promotion at your own job had stolen your energy and attention. You had both been tired and short with one another, and eventually the tension built and had blown up in a terrible way. 
You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to force both the guilt and continued yearning out of your busy mind. 
When Lydia texted that she and the girls were on the way to your apartment, you reluctantly pulled the jersey over your head. The sleeves covered most of your hands, and the fabric fell past your hips and part way down your thighs. You pulled on a pair of shoes and left the safe space that was your apartment, locking the door behind you. 
Rogers Arena was packed and the energy in the building made you feel like you could start vibrating. You and your friends held hands so as not to get separated. You were glad when your friends made no comment on how tightly you squeezed their hands, or how sweaty your palms might have been. 
You were made significantly more nervous when you realised that Lydia had not been exaggerating about your seats. You were sitting right behind the bench. 
The arena was filling up steadily, and you sat there in between your friends, not speaking a single word. It had been a couple years since you had been here, and while you were very nervous, the familiarity came rushing back to you and it helped to slow your fast beating heart. 
If you closed your eyes, you could imagine Quinn smiling at you from the other side of the glass, and laughing when you blew him a kiss. 
You wrapped your arms gently around yourself, the once very stiff material of the jersey now very easily shifted and manipulated. You knew it didn’t smell like him anymore, but when you let yourself get lost in the feeling of his old jersey, it was like he was right there. You were wrapped in him still, and you doubted it would ever go away. 
You were shocked out of your own thoughts when your friends, along with the rest of the fans around you, started cheering. The Canucks and the Oilers were on the ice, starting to warm up. Your eyes searched the ice quickly, and gliding easily across the ice on the opposite side of rink, was the captain, the number 43 embroidered on his jersey, just like the one you adorned. 
Your own cheeks heated up when it really hit you that you were wearing his old jersey. You weren’t together anymore; what were you thinking? He could see you– what would he think when he saw you right behind his bench, wearing the jersey he had gifted you?
You suddenly wanted to throw up more than ever. He exchanged a few words with Elias, and laughed at something his buddy had said. Your heart ached in longing once more. You had missed his laugh so much. 
Quinn now had facial hair, something he hadn’t had when he was with you. His hair was longer, peeking out from beneath his helmet. He already seemed much more grown up. He looked like a captain, something who had become used to leading his team. Quinn had always been somewhat confident in his abilities as a hockey player, but it was easy to tell that he had really gotten used to his role on the team and had come into his own over the past two years. 
The girls grabbed your hands and walked into the aisle, just to get right up to the glass. Your face burned and you tried to hide behind some of your friends. You kept your heads down and your arms folded. 
Your friends held up hats and other paraphernalia that they desperately wanted signed by players. 
“Y/N!” One of your friends practically shouted. You suddenly noticed that they had all stopped cheering. You looked up to see them parted in front of you. 
Quinn was on the other side of the glass, looking right at you. 
Your friends shoved you up the glass, giggling and squealing. You nearly ran into the glass from the force of their shoves. Quinn laughed at you, his smile exactly how you remembered it. 
He pointed at the white Canucks towel in your hands and shouted, “toss it over!” The arena was so loud you were glad he had mouthed it clearly. You hesitated but threw the towel over. With one glove off and in the other hand, he caught it. He gestured to one of your friends to throw over the Sharpie she was holding. She did gladly, happy to be included. He caught it easily and started to write quickly on the white fabric. Your heart did flips while watching him, and your hands shook with nothing to hold onto. 
He finally capped the pen and threw both the towel and marker over the glass. You struggled to catch it, but thankfully, you managed to hold onto it. You held it flat before you. 
Meet me by my car after. Usual spot. Your breath stopped slightly when you saw a rushed heart drawn next to the words. You looked back up to see him putting his glove back on. He gave you a warm smile that set you on a fire from the tips of your toes to the top of your head. You took a deep breath and nodded to him. His smile widened slightly. Before he turned to skate away, you saw him mouth the words, “nice jersey.” You stuttered for a second, and he simply winked and turned. 
Your friends all screamed and crowded you, looking at the towel. 
“Usual spot? What the fuck is going on?” Lydia yelled over the noise, cackling. 
You just blushed and shook your head, returning to your seat with the towel gripped tightly in your hands. 
As the teams continued to warm up, you explained as quickly as you could that you and Quinn had once been together. Your friends, of course, were shocked but also very excited for you at the prospect of reuniting with him. You simply waved your hands in protest. 
“I don’t even know if he wants to get back together with me! He might just want to catch up or something… we’re cool now and I don’t want to mess anything up.” 
“Girl, please!” one of your friends shouted. “He drew a motherfucking heart and winked at you! Of course he wants you back.”
You all laughed and you embraced the next blush that warmed your cheeks. 
The players left the ice, and minutes later, the lights went dark. The deafening sound of nearly 19,000 people screaming almost broke your eardrums. Blue light filled the room, and you looked up to see what was playing on the large screens above you. 
You watched the intro video and let a nostalgic, giddy feeling overtake you. You couldn’t help but smile. 
The arena fell back into nearly full darkness. You heard the beginning of a familiar sound of twinkly guitar that dragged you right back to 2011. Goosebumps rose up along your skin all over your body. That was the last time the Canucks had made it to the Playoff finals, and you hoped dearly that they could get there again. The playing of Where The Streets Have No Name from their intro from 2011 made hope take hold of you.
You couldn’t help but raise your particularly special white rally towel in the air to wave alongside all of the other Canucks fans in the building. 
It had been surprisingly easy to get into the players’ parking garage. Despite it being two years since you had been in the building, you were recognized by several people, who let you walk wherever you wanted. 
Your friends had practically shoved you to go after the game, screaming after you to call them later. You had laughed and walked away, your steps lighter than they had been in a long while. 
You later found yourself standing by Quinn’s car. It was the same one he’d had when you had been together. Your hand brushed the shining hood of the car, and you could see yourself in the passenger seat, laughing at something he’d said as the two of you drove around downtown Vancouver. 
“Thank God you actually showed up.” 
You whipped around, seeing a freshly showered Quinn in sweatpants and a hoodie making his way towards you. 
You tugged on the hem of the jersey, your heart beating quicker and quicker with every step he took. 
He stopped in front of you, and when you looked up, you both spoke. 
“I love you.” 
“I’m sorry.” 
Your eyes nearly popped out of your head. “You-what?” 
He bit his bottom lip before repeating himself. “I love you. I know it’s been two years, but-” 
“I love you, too,” you said quickly, blood roaring in your ears. “And I am so, so sorry. I never should’ve-” 
It was his turn to cut you off. “Don’t apologise, please. It’s not your fault.”
“Can you… can you please accept my apology, at least?” 
He smiled softly. “I forgive you. I’m sorry, too.” 
“I forgive you, too,” you whispered softly, your heart swelling with affection as you looked at him. You felt an intense relief flood your body. Your shoulders finally relaxed for the first time in what felt like years. He reached out and wrapped you in a warm hug. You melted into it, returning the gesture. 
“I missed you. So much,” you mumbled into his hoodie. 
One of hands gently scratched the back of your neck like he used to do. “I missed you, too.” He pulled away just enough to lean down and kiss your lips softly. Nothing had ever felt so natural. His playoff beard scratched your face and you laughed at the sensation, pulling away. 
“Not used to the beard,” you admitted, smiling widely. 
He smiled, too. “Yeah, what do you think? Should I keep it around?” 
You shrugged, leaning back into him. “Well, you’re very handsome either way.” 
“You think?” 
“Mhm. Your hair also looks very good. I like it longer like this,” you told him, ruffling his brown hair. He swatted your hand away and kissed your cheek. 
“Noted.” He looked down at me again. “Should probably get you a new jersey.” 
“Hm, you think I need the big ole C on here, Captain?” 
He shook his head, blushing. “Don’t call me that.” 
You laughed, wrapping your arms around him, bringing his head down for you to kiss. “Couldn’t help myself.” You grabbed his hands. “Congratulations on the big win, by the way.” 
“I can’t believe you came. I thought I was hallucinating or something when I saw you,” he told you honestly. 
“Well, I’m glad I came,” you admitted, running a hand through his hair. 
“You have no idea how happy I am right now,” he said, smiling wider than you had seen all night. 
You laughed, feeling pure joy in your heart. “I think I might have an idea.” 
648 notes · View notes
starsinthesky5 · 4 months ago
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sweetest surprise || joe burrow x reader
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description: a confusing and uncomfortable few days results in the sweetest surprise :)
a/n: an unplanned fic before I get back into YAIL and YBWM! this one was on the ML for a while so I decided to get into it on my very lengthy drive home from texas so this is definitely not my best writing since I was half asleep when writing half of this but i hope you guys like it regardless :) 
the fic jumps around a bit to certain moments so hopefully it’s easy to follow!
warnings: language, mentions of sex
word count: 14 k
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November 21st
You felt a set of soft and delicate lips pepper featherlight kisses around your face, the lips felt extremely cozy and warm like you were being touched by a cloud-like plush blanket. You slowly opened your eyes and were met with your husband towering over you, a cheeky grin on his face as daylight filled your once-dark bedroom. 
“Someone slept in,” he laughed.
You turned your head to the side to see the time, the clock reading 9:32 am, 2 and a half hours past the time you were supposed to get up. You slept through the early alarm you had set to get up and make Joe his usual game-day breakfast and prepare for the game as you were busy the night before with your friends. Not to mention you and Joe were hosting a family dinner party after the game and the house was an absolute mess. 
“Oh my god, I don’t know how I slept in,” you say as you sit up quickly, but maybe a little too quickly as you feel dizzy all of a sudden. You reached for your head to stabilize yourself, the room slightly spinning as you tried to gather yourself. 
“Hey, you okay?” Joe asked as he grabbed your hands and sat down in front of you. 
“Yeah,” you breathe out. “Just felt a little dizzy,”. 
“Does your head hurt?” he asked as he moved your hair out of your face, his voice laced with concern. “Do you need water?”. 
“Nope, I think I just sat up too fast,” you nodded. “I’m good on water though, thanks. Sorry about sleeping in, I don’t know how that happened. I was supposed to make your breakfast and you’re probably starving right now and you have to leave in a little bit,” you said as you looked down at your hands that he was rubbing with his soft fingers. 
“You don’t need to say sorry, you deserve to sleep in once and a while since you sacrifice your weekends for me & football,” he chuckles. 
“Yeah but now everything is thrown off since you don’t have anything to eat, there’s only a few hours till kickoff and I don’t even know what I’m wearing, and we have family coming over after the game and the house is a mess,” you say, your breaths getting shorter as visible panic sets in. 
“Woahh, let’s breathe for a second,” Joe says, now rubbing his hands on your thighs to help calm you down which always worked. “You don’t need to worry about anything. I grabbed us breakfast on the way home from the team hotel, you can wear one of my Bengals hoodies and leggings because you look beautiful in everything and don’t need anything flashy to show that you’re my biggest fan, and I asked the housekeeper to come over while we’re at the game to clean up for the dinner tonight because I knew it would be a lot for you to juggle by yourself,”.
You sat there and stared at Joe for a few seconds, still unable to fully comprehend how he always managed to fix your problems with what felt like just the snap of his fingers. He’d always been able to easily ease your worries no matter how big or small even when you were dating, and now that you were married that hadn't changed. Joe had been the perfect boyfriend to you for many years and now was the perfect husband, you were truly the luckiest woman alive because you had someone so thoughtful and sincere by your side. 
“Thank youuu,” you said as you moved closer to him and pulled him in for a tight hug. “I don’t what I would do without you,”.
“It’s a good thing you don’t need to know what you’d do without me. I’m always here,” he smiled against your head. 
“Mmm, you’re the best,” you say as you melt in his arms. “I don’t know why I feel lazy and weird this morning,”. 
“We all have those days. I’m sure you’ll be fine by tonight,” he says as he rubs your back before pressing a kiss to your lips. The warmth radiating from his body makes you feel ten times better already. 
“I hope so,” you yawn. “What’d you grab for breakfast?” you ask as you pull away from the hug.
“I got us some muffins, fruit, and smoothies from that bakery you love downtown by the stadium,” he says as he gets up from the bed, putting out his hand to help you up.
“Oooo yum,” you chirp as you get up. “I’ll be down in a few minutes, just need to freshen up,”. 
“Yes ma’am,” he says as he presses another kiss to your cheek before getting up and walking out of your bedroom, a nice bounce in his step. At least one of you was having a good morning.  
You walk into the bathroom, pee, and then make your way over to the vanity to brush your teeth. After you brush your teeth, you take a good look at yourself in the mirror, noticing how your face looks more tired than usual—matching how you felt—and then you notice your stomach sticking out a little through your semi-tight sleep shirt. 
“I knew I shouldn’t have had those two milkshakes yesterday,” you murmured as you rubbed your hands over your seemingly bloated belly. “Bloated is not a cute look,”.  
You make your way down the stairs a few minutes later, watching Joe as he takes out the food from the bags and sets everything up on the table. “I got you a pumpkin banana muffin, a mixed fruit bowl with berries, pineapple, and mangos, and that Pacific Sunrise smoothie you like,” he smiles as you walk closer to him.
“All my favorites,” you grin as you lean across the table to press a kiss to his lips. “Such a good husband,”. 
“Only the finest variety for the best wife in the world,” he said as he popped a piece of pineapple into his mouth. 
“I’ll never get tired of hearing those words come out of your mouth,” you smile. 
“And I’ll never get tired of saying those words,” he winks as he pulls your chair out for you. 
You both sit down at the table with your breakfast and start to dig in. You finish up your bowl of fruit first and then move to the smoothie as you and Joe talk about the game and the dinner later. 
“My mom and aunt said they’ll bring over some food for a potluck-type thing. I checked the fridge and we have everything for hamburgers and hotdogs so we could probably use the grill,” he said as he took a sip of his smoothie.
“It’s freezing tonight so maybe try to make them inside,” you say as you take a sip of your smoothie, your face immediately scrunching up in disgust. 
“Yeah, that’s probably a better idea…Are you okay?” he says as he looks up and notices your face. 
“This smoothie tastes awful,” you cough as you push it away. 
“I thought it was your favorite?” he asked as he picked up the cup to read the label.
“It is, but this tastes so bad for some reason,” you reply. “Here, you take a sip,”.
Joe nods before taking a sip of the fruity smoothie, the taste seeming normal to him as his face stays the same. “It tastes like how it usually does to me, Tropical and a little Citrusy,” he says as he places the cup back down. 
“It just tastes strange, I don’t know why,” you gag as the aftertaste is even worse than the initial taste.  
“Maybe try the muffin?” He asks as he passes it to you. “You need something more than just fruit inside of your belly since I know you usually don’t eat much during the game,”. 
You nod and take a small bite of the muffin but you immediately put it down as it tastes just as bad as the smoothie. “That tastes bad too,”.
“That’s weird, you eat this all the time and it’s never been weird before,” he says as he inspects the muffin. “I don’t see anything wrong with it either,”. 
“I’ve been getting this same order from that Bakery every week for the past 4 years and I’ve never been grossed out by it before,” you frown. “I don’t understand why it tastes like rotten eggs to me and not you,”. 
“We can put them in the fridge and see tomorrow if it tastes better. Maybe it’s just your tastebuds or something,” he says as he gets up to put them inside the fridge.
“We can try but I don’t know how my tastebuds are going to change in 24 hours,” you giggle.
“Well clearly they changed since the last time you had the smoothie and muffin so let’s try it again tomorrow,” he smiled. 
“Whatever you say, Doctor,” you say as you playfully roll your eyes. 
A few hours later - Paycor Stadium 
There were about 20 minutes till kickoff and you were settled in the Burrow Suite with the family and a few other close WAGs. You grabbed a coffee and a bag of pretzels to snack on throughout the game since you barely had anything for breakfast this morning. The coffee was to help you stay awake since you woke up tired and were still feeling it hours later and you didn’t want to be groggy during the family dinner tonight. You listened to Joe and opted for one of his crewnecks and a pair of leggings for today's game, a little more lax than what you’d usually wear on game days but you were comfortable so that’s all that mattered. 
“Sounds like a weird morning,” Jess said after you told her how your morning went. 
“Oh, for sure. We all know I never sleep past my alarms so I don’t know what that was about and the breakfast thing was weird too,” you say as you pop a pretzel into your mouth, your stomach feeling a little weird as you sit there and watch the pregame preparations with your friend. 
“Hopefully you’re not sick or something. Can’t have you missing the annual WAGs party next week now that it was finally my turn to plan it,” she says as she pats your leg. 
“I hope I’m not sick. I don’t want to miss the party since I know how long you’ve been planning it for and that’s too much to handle right now since we’re getting into a crucial spot in the season. If Joe got sick right now, I would never be able to forgive myself,” you say as you squirm in your seat, feeling more and more uneasy as the seconds go by. You barely took a sip or bite of your breakfast this morning, so you couldn’t understand why your stomach was acting up. 
“I’m sure you’re fine. We all have days like that,” she says.
You let out a laugh, “Joe said the same thing,”. 
“Sam says that to me every time I have a bad morning,” she giggled.
“They really are the same person just in a different font, aren’t they?” you ask as you stand up to get a good look at the field to see if you can spot Joe, but as soon as you do, your stomach feels like it does a backflip and you feel a wave of nausea come over. 
You reach for your stomach, wrapping your arm around your belly in an attempt to make yourself feel better. Jess notices and stands up next to you, “Y/N? You good?” she asks as she places her hand on your shoulder. 
“I don’t know,” you say as you swallow. “I feel nauseous all of a sudden,”. 
“Here, take this water,” she says as she reaches for her water bottle. Before you could grab it, you felt a burning sensation in your throat and a cramp in your stomach, a sure sign that you were about to throw up. You put your hand over your mouth and run out of the suite and down the hall to the bathrooms. You swing open a stall and crouch down as you empty the contents of your stomach into the toilet. You hear footsteps behind you a few seconds later and then a hand holding your hair back, Jess must have walked in. 
“It’s alright, just breathe,” she says as she rubs your back with her free hand. A few moments later, you flush the toilet and sit down on the floor to process what just happened. 
“Here, I grabbed you water and some paper towels,” she said as she turned around to grab the things and hand them to you. “I think I have some mints in my bag so I’ll be right back,” she says as she gets up.
“T- Thanks,” you mumble as you wipe your face with the paper towels, taking a few deep breaths before you slowly get up and walk over to the sink to rinse your mouth out before taking a few sips of water. You look in the mirror and take a few more breaths, examining your tired face while trying to hold yourself together. 
“What the hell is wrong with me?” you whisper to yourself. 
A few hours later - End of the game
“Are you okay?” Joe asks as he engulfs you in a big hug after he walks out of the locker room. You were a little surprised that he found out so quickly but then you realize Jess must have told Sam and Sam must have told Joe and now you had to deal with Mama Bear Joe. Whenever you got sick he would baby the hell out of you even if it was something as minor as a cold or headache. 
“I think so,” you mumble against his neck. “I didn’t throw up again, thank god. But I still feel a bit shaken up,”. 
“You wanna cancel tonight’s dinner?” he asks as he rubs your back before pressing a few kisses to your forehead. 
“No, definitely not. We’ve been meaning to have them over for a while and I would hate to cancel last minute like that,” you say as you pull your head out of his neck. 
“Okay, then let’s go to the doctor real quick,” he says, his inner Mama Bear peeking through.
“Joe, No,” you say as you shake your head.
“Y/N, you threw up,” he said.
“I’m going to be fine,” you laugh. “It’s not like I passed out or something and I don’t even think any doctors are open since it’s Sunday afternoon,”.
“The team Doctors should still be here,” he says as he moves his head to see if he can spot them. 
“I know you’re worried but I’m fine. No need to bug anyone about it,” you say as you move your hands to cup his face, moving it back so that he is looking into your eyes.
“Are you sure?” he asks, his eyes softening out of concern for you.
“Positive,” you assure. 
“Okay,” he nods. “I wonder what made you throw up? It can’t be breakfast since you barely had anything to eat,” he says as releases you from the hug. He moves his hand down to yours and starts to lead you both back out to the car, hand in hand like usual. You’d always wait for him outside the locker room after a game so you could walk back out together to debrief. You both tried to keep post-game talk to a minimum once you got home especially if it was a bad game, so you got all of it out on the walk to the car and the drive home. 
“I honestly have no idea. I had two milkshakes yesterday but I don’t see how that would’ve made me throw up a day later, you say as you look up at him.
“Two?” he asks, his eyebrows shooting up as he gives you a look of confusion.
“I was craving milkshakes, Okay,” you laugh. “And before you judge me, let me remind you that you ate 5 slices of pizza in one sitting after the Divisional game last year,”.
“I was hungry,” he laughs. 
“And I was craving sweet treats,” you pout. 
“Okay, Fine,” he retreats. “If it wasn’t the shakes then maybe it’s a stomach bug? That could also be why you felt tired all day and slept in this morning,” he says as he squeezes your hand.
“I guess we’ll find out in a few days,” you sigh. “I hope it’s not a stomach bug because I don’t want you to get sick too,”.
“I’ll be fine,” he smiles. 
“I don’t knowww,” you tease. “I think I’ll have to pause the kisses for a few days so I don’t give whatever I have to you,”. 
Joe whips his head around and glares at you, “No fucking way,”. 
Joe would die if you stopped kissing him. He could not go about his day without a good morning kiss from you and he could not sleep without a good night kiss from you, they were his favorite things. You remember your first kiss with him and how insatiable he was once he felt his lips against yours, needing to feel them against his all the time. 
“It’s cute how you’re still the same 20-year-old that can’t go a day without a kiss from me,” you say as you softly push his shoulder. 
“Maybe don’t have the softest lips in the world and then I’ll stay away,” he jokes as he lets go of your hand to wrap his arm around your shoulder. 
“Sorry, no can do,” you giggle.
“Then I guess I can’t say away,” he grins as he leans down and presses a big kiss on your lips.
“You’re probably going to throw up tomorrow,” you smile against him. 
“I’ll pay that price if it means I get to kiss my girl,” he says before pressing another kiss to your lips. 
After the Family Dinner 
The Family Dinner went smoothly since your nausea died down and you could finally eat something without feeling like you were going to throw up again. You still felt a little tired but managed to push through as entertaining conversations with family members kept you awake. Now, you were sitting on the bed after your shower and were waiting for Joe to come upstairs after cleaning up. You offered to help him since there was a lot to clean up but he insisted that you went upstairs and relaxed a little after the weird day you had, so that’s exactly what you did.
You were scrolling on your phone when you heard the bedroom door close. You look up and see your adorable husband trying to catch his breath, “Told you I could’ve helped you,” you shrugged.
“Cleaning up after a dinner party is not for the weak,” he sighs. “I didn’t realize we were so messy and there were so many things all over the place. And then I had to get the trashcans outside before the downpour started so I literally had to run around to grab the bags and take them down to the trashcans,”.
“Aww, is my poor baby tired?” you tease.
“This is not funny,” he said as he gave you a look while taking his shirt off. “I could’ve slipped and fallen in the rain,”. 
You went silent as you watched him pat his body with his shirt before tossing it into the laundry hamper, his muscular chest glowing in the warm lighting of your bedroom. Joe was built like a Greek God, the way his chest looked like it had been crafted from gold, and the way his golden hair and blue eyes always caught you in a trance. 
“If he just bent me over right now–,” you thought to yourself, finding yourself in one of those trances again before you felt a sudden sensation of weight on you that pushed you back onto the bed, snapping the impure thoughts out if your head.
“Mmph, I missed you today,” Joe said, his entire body on yours right now.
“I literally saw you the entire day,” you giggled as you moved your hands into his hair.
“I know, but I feel like we barely saw each other at the same time. My mom had you occupied for the majority of the dinner and we didn’t get any alone time,” he sighed. 
“Alone time?” you questioned. “Alone time for what?”.
“For this,” he says as he kisses your lips, slowly deepening the kiss as you feel his warm tongue enter your mouth. You let out a soft moan when you feel his hands slip under your shirt, his big hands rubbing your plush skin. You open up your legs a bit more to accommodate his big body as you suck on his lip and pull him closer, his hands now moving up to your bare chest. You wrap your legs around his waist and move your lips against his in a way that you know drove him crazy, slowly switching back and forth between his top and bottom lip. You feel his hand massage your breast which would normally make you feel pleasure, but this time all you felt was pain.
“Ow,” you wince as you pull away from the kiss, his hands immediately stopping. 
“Is everything okay?” he asks, his face and body frozen at your apparent ache. 
“Do that again,” you say to him, then feel his hand squeezing your breast again and still feel pain.
“Fuck, that hurts,” you whisper. 
He slips his hand out from under your shirt and moves off of your body, “What’s wrong?”,
“My boobs feel so sore,” you whine.
“Is it your period?” he asks as he runs his fingers through his hair. 
“I don’t think so,” you sigh. “I don’t know what’s up with me today,” you say as you slide your hands across your face. 
“It’s okay,” Joe says while grabbing your hands and kissing them. “I told you this morning that we all have those kinds of days and I think that’s all this is. You might have just caught something from someone and are a little sick,”. 
“I don’t know what kind of sickness involves these kinds of symptoms but I guess you’re right,” you say, not being able to come up with any other reason as to why you were having an off day. 
“Just take it easy tonight, I’ll grab you some Tylenol and Water,” he says as he slowly gets up from the bed.
“But what about–,”.
“Nope,” he says, shutting you down as he knew what you were going to say. “Sex is not what you need right now,”.
You drop your shoulders and give him a pouty face which usually works, but this time it didn’t. “Joeee,” you grumble. 
“Sorry beautiful, but I promise I’ll make it up to you when you feel better,” he smiles.
“How is it fair that you still get your kisses while I’m sick but I can’t get laid?” you say as you cross your arms and bat your eyelashes. 
“Because one involves less tiresome actions than the other,” he winks as he walks out of the bedroom to grab you some things from downstairs. 
You faceplant forward onto the comforter as you let out a loud groan, one that he could hear from the hall. “You’ll thank me later,” you hear him laugh. 
You detested being sick. Not because you didn’t get to partake in certain activities, but because you felt like shit. You had never heard of a sickness that involved being tired, your taste buds acting up, throwing up, and having sore boobs. This was a strange combination of symptoms and it really was taking a toll on you and it would probably get worse.
But were you actually sick, or was this something else?
The Next Morning 
You suddenly jolt awake from the feeling of your stomach churning and your body extremely hot all of a sudden. You unwrap yourself from Joe’s hold and run into the bathroom, feeling a burning sensation in your throat again and once again crouching down and emptying the contents of your stomach into the toilet. You see Joe walk into the bathroom from the corner of your eye, crouching down next to you and holding your hair back while whispering sweet words to calm you down into your ear. 
A few moments later you flush the toilet and wipe your lips with a piece of toilet paper, then fall back into Joe’s arms. “Mmm,” you whine as you hide your face in his chest as he rubs your back.
“Still not feeling better?” he asks.
“Mm, Mm,” you reply as you shake your head, a few tears falling from your eyes. You feel Joe shift around under you, then feel his hands around your legs and waist, slowly picking you up bridal style and carrying you out of the bathroom and down the stairs to the couch, not a word coming from his mouth as he was doing this. 
He carefully placed you on the couch, taking a few push blankets and setting them around you to keep you warm. He then brought over a glass of water for you and some anti-nausea pills and mints.
“Take these for now. I’m gonna heat up some soup for you to eat for breakfast and order some soup for lunch for you while I’m at practice so you can stay in bed all day. I’m also gonna stop at the pharmacy to see what other meds I can pick up,” he says as he presses a kiss to your forehead. 
“Thank You,” you cooed. 
“I love you so much,” he added after placing another kiss on your forehead. “You’re going to be fine, I promise,”. 
“I love you more,” you smile as you kiss his cheek. 
You watch as he walks over to the fridge, taking out the bowl of soup his Mom made for you last night to ease your stomach in case you felt nauseous again. You turn back around and pull the blankets up higher as you try to get comfortable. Although you hated Mama Bear Joe and the over-the-top antics, you loved when he would do these little things for you—as silly as it sounded. It was his responsibility as your husband to take care of you, but you still felt your heart explode when he would do so.
After eating the soup he made for you, Joe went upstairs to get ready for practice and then spent a few minutes with you on the couch to make sure you didn’t throw up again before he left.
He laid his head in your lap, your fingers playing with the soft strands of his hair as you felt his hot breath against your stomach. 
“I really don’t want to leave you alone today,” he mumbled against your stomach.
“I know,” you sigh. “I’ll be fine though, don’t stress,”.
“I just feel bad that you’re sick and I can’t be here to take care of you,” he sighs.
You stop running your fingers through his hair which causes him to look up and meet your eyes, “Don’t feel bad, Joe. What my stomach decides to do when you’re not here is in neither of our hands,” you joke.
“That doesn’t make me feel any better,” he says.
“I promise I’ll be fine. If I need anything I can call a friend or I’ll text you,” you smile.
“If you feel really bad, drive to the facility,” he says as he gets up from your lap. 
“Don’t you think that’s a little too-,”.
“Drive to the facility,” he says again, giving you a look that tells you he means business. 
“Okayyy, Mama Bear,” you joke as you kiss his cheek.
“Uhh, what about my lips?” he says as he raises his eyebrows. “I told you, I don’t care if I throw up,”. 
You roll your eyes before leaning in and pressing two sweet kisses on his lips, feeling Joe’s smile through them both, and then a final one on his nose. “Bye Joe,” you say lazily, your tiredness peeking through. 
He smiles at you and gets up from the couch, his gaze lingering on your face for a few seconds. He couldn’t leave you alone, he didn’t want to leave you alone. “Maybe I should stay,” he says as he sits down again. 
“Joe,” you glare, now feeling a little annoyed at his overthinking. 
“What?” he asks.
“Go to practice,” you say, purposefully lacing your voice with annoyance. 
“No,” he denies.
“Joe,” you say, this time giving him a look that told him you were incredibly close to snapping.
“What if you throw up again?” he asks.
“I’ll take some medicine and drink water,” you shrug.
“And what if you get a fever or something,”.
“That’s what we have Tylenol for,” you laugh.
“What if you pass out?”.
He really wasn’t budging, was he? “Joe!” you yell, softly because you don’t like raising your voices at each other. “I love you, but please go to practice,”. 
“Okay, Okay. I’ll go,” he says. “But if you need anything, and I mean anything, please call me,”.
“I will, I promise,” you smile, grabbing his hand and giving him a soft squeeze to hopefully ease his worries like how he did for you. 
A few hours later 
You stayed on the couch for about two hours so that you could fully digest the soup without doing anything to make you throw up again before slowly making your way upstairs to freshen up and take a nice long shower; the steamy warm water hitting your stomach provided much-needed relief.  
You’re brushing your wet hair in the mirror when you see your phone light up from an incoming Facetime from your best friend. You pick up and prop your phone against the mirror before going back to your hair. 
“Hey, Y/N,” she smiles.
“Hey, Soph,” you sigh, your voice heavy and tired. 
“That’s not promising. You still feeling sick?” she asks.
“Threw up again this morning,” you say as you pursed your lips. 
She stays silent for a few seconds, biting her lip and staring at you like you had two heads. “What?” you ask as you put the brush down.
“You know, the symptoms you told me you were having kind of sounds like something else,” she says.
“Sounds like what?” you snort, preparing yourself for another one of her wild theories. 
“But I don’t know for sure because you’ve never mentioned it before,” she thinks.
“What?” you ask.
“Are you pregnant?” she grins. 
You pause for a few seconds to let what she said register in your brain. “HA,” you yell a few seconds later. “That’s hilarious,” you say as you throw your head back. 
“Y/N, I’m not kidding,” she deadpans, her tone making you stop laughing. 
“Sophia, I can tell you for a fact that I'm not pregnant. I’m pretty sure it’s just a stomach bug,” you shake your head as you reach for your hair clip.
“Okay, but when was the last time you guys, you know,” she winked. 
“Well, let’s just say we make sure to get our workouts in,” you say with a cheeky smile as you clip your hair back. 
“Workouts?” she laughs. “Now I know what you mean to say whenever you tell me you can’t talk because you and Joe are about to ‘workout’,”.
A throaty laugh leaves your lips as you recall all the moments you’ve dodged your friend’s calls and texts with a “workout” excuse. Although, you did end up sweating and probably burning a few calories so it was pretty much like a workout. 
“Anyway, hypothetically if you are pregnant and are having symptoms, you’d have to be pregnant for at least 4-8 weeks by now,”.
“Rightttt,” you nod slowly. Why were you even entertaining her theory? You couldn’t be pregnant, there was no way. 
“What happened 4-8 weeks ago?” She asked.
“Uhhhh…,” you trail off, trying to remember anything significant. “My birthday was 5 ish weeks ago,” you say. 
“Okay, so did you-,”.
“Oh yeah, we did,” you answered with a laugh even before she could finish asking the question, recalling that memorable night that had you sore for the entirety of the next day. 
“Okay, have you been trying for a baby?” she asks.
You pause for a few seconds before recalling the conversation you and Joe had about this subject, “We haven’t been specifically trying but we talked about having a baby and everything a while ago and decided that it would happen when it was supposed to happen,”.
Flashback to September - A few days before the start of the season 
You and Joe were lounging together on the couch, his hand in your hair, playing with the loose strands as you rubbed your hand along his thigh. You both longed for these calm and quiet moments when it was just the two of you wrapped up in each other's arms. This kind of one-on-one time would be significantly reduced once the season starts, so you both were making sure to get as much in as you could now. 
“How do you feel about having a baby right now?” Joe asked, breaking the silence with something so deep and serious that completely went against the thought you just had of cherishing peaceful moments with just the two of you.
“Hm?” you asked as you turned your head to face him. “I thought we already had this conversation,”.  You’d talked about the idea of wanting kids ages ago before you got engaged when you were talking to each other about your futures and although you had been married for over a year now, this was the first time the topic of kids came up as a married couple.
“Well, we did have this conversation,” he smiled. “But that was before we got married and it was just about if we wanted kids together. Now we’re married,” he said as he moved his hand to your stomach. 
“Someone having baby fever?” you beamed as you pressed a kiss to his neck.
“Actually, I am,” he said, his face telling you he was being dead serious. “The thought of Baby Burrow running around the house sounds like a dream”. 
“Really?” you question, a little surprised at his thoughts. You knew that Joe wanted to have kids with you at some point, but you didn’t expect it to be so soon since he’s still at an important point in his career. 
“Really,” he says. “I love you more than anything on this earth and the thought of you having my baby makes me want to run around and scream. The thought of a little baby running around and screaming also makes me want to run around and scream,”.
You laugh at his childlike excitement then lean in to press a kiss on his pink lips, “I love that you’re so excited about having kids with me,”.
“Excited is an understatement, I’m Ecstatic. Having a baby has way more of an impact on you than it does me, so I wanted to see where you were at about it,” he adds. 
“Well, we said we ideally wanted 2—one boy and one girl—but no more than 3 if another happens to come along. I think that still stands?” you ask.
“Yes, it does,” he nods. 
“Wouldn’t things get too chaotic if I was pregnant during the season though?” you ask as you play with his fingers. 
“If you were pregnant during the season, Baby B would arrive during the off-season so that lines up perfectly since I would be able to be around a lot more,” he said. “It would be a bit chaotic for a little because I would be thinking about you 90% of the time, but it’s better than having a baby during the season and you being by yourself,”. 
“True,” you nod as you do the math in your head. If you got pregnant anywhere from now to December the baby would arrive between May and July, which would be perfect for you both. 
“It’s all up to you. I don’t want you to feel like I’m rushing you for anything. If you’re not ready for that then that's okay,” he assured. 
“It’s not that I’m feeling rushed, I just don’t want to rush you into anything,” you say. “I know how important these next few years are for your career and I don’t want you to feel like you have too many things on your plate,”. You wanted to have a family more than anything, but you also knew that what Joe was doing was incredibly important to not just him, but you also. If it was just the two of you for a few years, you wouldn’t mind, even if part of you wished it was the three of you. 
“A family is a priority, not just something on a plate,” he smiles. “I told you that when I proposed too, remember?”. 
Oh, you remembered all right. When Joe proposed, you obviously said yes. You couldn’t imagine spending the rest of your life with any other person, but you were a little hesitant about the idea of getting married while he was still chasing his first ring because you didn’t want to become a distraction for him when it came to his career. You felt awful for thinking that way, but once again, Joe fixed that with the snap of his fingers. He told you and made sure you knew that you weren’t just some “thing” in his life, you were a priority. You mattered to him more than football did and it would always be that way as football was transient, and you would always be there with him. You were his whole world.
When you first met, he knew instantly that he wanted to do everything with you. He wanted to be the guy who took you out on dates, showed you a love unlike any kind you had ever experienced, cleaned up your tears whenever you were sad, kissed you at every chance he got, and eventually be the man who proposed to you and married you. Lucky for him, all that happened. Now he wanted to take the next step, having a family with you. 
“I remember,” you smile. “You made sure that I got that in my head,”.
“So just like you, a baby would become a priority. And I’d love to see my two favorite humans up in the suite watching their daddy play ball before he gets gray hairs,” he smiles.
“Their daddy? You mean the baby’s daddy?” you question.
He tilts his head and raises his brow, giving you a look that makes you throw your head back in a fit of laughter. 
“Oh, I mean their daddy. We both know you use that name a lot in a different context,” he winks.
“Joseph Lee,” you shriek as you gently hit his chest while a blush creeps up your face. You stop laughing and stare at him for a few seconds, thinking about what life would be like with a little baby chasing you both around the house while calling you mama and dada. You could have a little family of your own that you would come home to every day. Endless mornings filled with laughter and precious moments as a trio, sleepless nights curled up with Joe in your bed as you stayed awake in case your baby woke up; a lifetime of love was waiting for you.  
“Having a baby sounds amazing, Joe,” you smile as you tuck your head under his chin. “Being your girlfriend was fantastic, being your wife is like a dream, but being the mother to our child is the best thing that could ever happen to me,”.
“You’re going to be the best daddy to our little baby. I can’t wait for the day when Baby Burrow can see you out on the field, absolutely tearing it up and putting everyone on notice. I can’t wait for the day when they realize who their daddy is and see all the great things he’s done in his life,” you coo.  
“Y/N..” he softly says, his heart bursting from your sweet words but also from the thought of all of that actually happening.  
“The greatest thing I’ve done in my life is make you my forever,” his face turning a little red at the words leaving his mouth.
“Aww, Joe,” you say as your face turns into a pout, your heart now being the one bursting at his sweet words. “Everything you say makes me fall more in love with you,”.
“I feel the same way,” punctuating his sentence with another kiss. “We have all the time in the world to have a baby so there’s no rush obviously,” he smiles as he pulls you closer to him, resting his hand on your stomach. 
“Agreed. Whenever Baby Burrow wants to come, it will,” you grin against his cheek. “We don’t necessarily have to try but we also don’t need to do anything to prevent it now that we’re open to it,”.
You feel his hand slide up to your chest, his other hand moving under your shirt and sliding up to the clasp of your bra. “Think we should get a head start on it?” he whispers in your ear, his voice incredibly husky and intoxicating. 
“Sounds like a great idea,” you wink. “I’d hate for us to be slackers,” you say before you lean in and capture his lips in a kiss that ignited something inside of you both. 
End of flashback 
“Well, let’s look at the past few days. You feel tired, things don’t taste the same, you threw up twice and feel nauseous a lot, you’re bloated as hell, plus mood swings and cravings. Those are all typical pregnancy symptoms,” she nods. “How about your period?”.
You freeze when she says that, your face dropping and your body tensing up, “Fuck,” you panic. “I didn’t even check that,” you say as you grab the phone off the vanity and pull up your period tracking app. You sit down on the toilet lid and look at the calendar, your heart dropping when you see bright red letters that spell out “Late”. 
“Oh my god,” you whisper, feeling like your world just flipped upside down. 
“What?” she asks.
“Ummm, I’m going to have to call you back later,” you say as you return to the FaceTime screen. 
“Oh my GOD,” she screams. “Y/N holy shit-,”.
“Soph, I really gotta go,” you say as you get up and start looking through the baskets in the bathroom for any pregnancy tests. 
“Okay, Okay. I’ll check in with you later,”.
“Thank you, I’ll call you later,” you say as you quickly hang up and throw your phone onto a pile of towels. 
“Where are the tests when you actually need one,” you grumble. 
After 10 minutes of searching every bathroom in the house, you couldn’t find a single pregnancy test so you decided to instacart a few tests to the house. You thought about going out and buying a few since that would be faster but you figured that word would get around town fast if Joe Burrow’s wife was buying pregnancy tests and if you actually were pregnant, you definitely were going to keep it a secret for a little. 
You were now sitting on the floor of the master bathroom with a glass of water to calm you down, anxiously waiting for the tests to arrive. You were a little nervous even though you both knew you wanted this, but the thought of it actually happening was a little too real for you. You heard your phone ding across the bathroom so you immediately got up to check and see if it was a notification that the tests were here, but it was a text from Joe. 
Joe: how are you feeling?
Anxious. You were feeling Anxious.
You: a bit better :) the soup helped
A lie. That was a lie. The soup did help though, but you did not feel better. 
Joe: that’s good. i’m gonna swing by the store later and pick up some tums and pepto bismol tablets, you need anything else?
Mint Chocolate Chip ice cream would be great since that was what you were craving right now. But the weird thing was, you hated Mint Chocolate Chip. Was this a pregnancy craving?
You: mint choco chip ice cream would be nice
Joe: are you okay?
You: yeah.. why?
Joe: y/n, you HATE mint chocolate chip 
You: i know but I feel like eating some right now. maybe it’s the stomach bug that’s craving it
Joe: so now the stomach bug is hungry?
You: seems like it 
Joe: okay then, a tub of mint choco chip ice cream will be on its way in a few hours for mr. stomach bug
You: me and mr. stomach bug say thank you joeyyy 
Joe: of course :) anyway, i gotta go back to practice. i’ll see you in a bit, make sure to drink a lot of water and eat the soup I ordered for you
You sent him a picture of you drinking a glass of water and as you were about to close your phone, a notification popped up that said “Delivered” which made your stomach do a backflip, but not the kind that made you feel like you were going to throw up. Instead, the kind that made you feel like your world was about to flip upside down.  
“Shit,” you mumbled. You ran out of the bathroom and made your way downstairs to the front door to pick up the package, and then ran into the downstairs bathroom. 
You ordered a ClearBlue digital test and a traditional First Response Test for the most accurate read. You spent a few minutes doing your business before flipping the tests upside down and setting a 3-minute timer. You sat down on the ledge of the tub, your leg bouncing up and down as you started to think about what would happen after you flipped the tests over.
If it was Positive, in 9 months you’d have a little baby in your arms and a family. A little boy or girl that you’d get to watch grow up and raise with the love of your life. Little hands wrapping around your fingers every night as you rocked your baby to sleep and adorable little laughs that would fill your quiet house every morning would brighten your day faster than a cup of coffee. 
If it was Negative, there would be nothing. It’s not like you were trying hard to have a baby, but your heart would still hurt if all this anticipation and thinking was for nothing. You tried to not get your hopes up too much, but you couldn’t help but think about all the things that would happen if it was positive. 
God, you wished it was Positive. You wanted to see that smile on Joe’s face when you told him you were having a baby for real. You didn’t want to have to tell him that you thought you were Pregnant but then found out you weren’t, that would break your heart again. 
“DING”, the timer was up. 
You took a few deep breaths before getting up from the ledge of the tub, walking over to the counter, and staring at the upside-down tests.
“Here we go,” you sigh.
You closed your eyes and flipped over the ClearBlue test. You slowly opened your eyes, the words reading “POSITIVE”.  
Your heart skipped a beat at the words. Tears started to form in your eyes and your heartbeat increased, all at the same time. You quickly flipped over the Traditional Test, 2 bold pink lines visible on the slot. 
You were Pregnant. 
You dropped the test on the counter and broke out in a sob, tears streaming down your face and your hands shaking. You were actually Pregnant. You were going to be a Mom and Joe was going to be a Dad. It was actually happening. 
“Oh my god,” you smile as you wipe the tears from your eyes. You pulled out your phone and took a picture of the tests, sending them to Sophia since she was the only one who was in on it at the moment. You placed your phone back down on the counter as tears kept falling from your eyes at the thought of actually being pregnant, your brain was in overdrive right now. In 9 months, you and Joe would become a family of 3. Your heart gushed at the thought of having a little baby of your own in your arms. Being a mother means experiencing and showing a different kind of love, and you can't wait.
How were you going to tell him? How were you going to hide this from the public? Was it a boy or a girl? So many questions filled your head, but all you could truly focus on was the fact that this was really happening. 
“Holy shit,” you smile as you wipe the tears from your eyes again. You look at yourself in the mirror, lifting your shirt and inspecting your belly.
“And I thought this was bloat,” you laugh through the tears as you rub your hands around the little bump that was forming. 
“Hey little baby,” you say as you talk to your stomach. “I know you can’t hear me, but it’s your mama. Me and Daddy love you so much. He doesn’t know yet but you’re going to be the sweetest surprise,” you grin. 
A few more hours later 
You spent the rest of the day in bed, content and relaxed as you knew why you were feeling so off so you weren’t worried about it anymore. You spent a few hours scheduling your OBGYN appointment, researching some things that newly pregnant women should do and not do, and brainstorming ideas on how you were going to tell Joe. All the ideas you found seemed basic or overdone—none really sticking out to you—so you decided to wait a bit and see if anything popped into your head. 
Currently, you were eating the soup that Joe had ordered for you while rewatching an episode of Stranger Things. He ordered you a Tomato Soup with a crisp grilled cheese sandwich, one of your favorite comfort meals, and go-to stomach bug remedy. 
“Well now that I know that it’s not a stomach bug, I hope you enjoy this soup, Baby Burrow,” you whisper to your stomach as you hear the bedroom door swing open, prompting you to look up. You watched as a sweaty Joe walked into the bedroom, placing his practice bag on the floor before walking over to you. 
“I didn’t even hear you come home,” you smiled as you paused the TV and placed your bowl of soup on the nightstand.
“How are you?” he asked as he sat down in front of you.
“Amazing,” you smile, feeling so much better after finding out the best news possible. 
“Really? You seemed pretty low when I left,” he asks, incredibly confused at how your mood did a 360.
“I feel a lot better and way more energized than I did this morning. I took a nice long shower after you left and lounged in bed all day,” you say, trying so hard to not tell him the real reason as to why you were feeling better. “No nausea or anything,”.
“That’s great,” he smiled. “I’m glad whatever you have is passing quickly. You’re kinda glowing too,”.
“Mhm,” you lie. It in fact was not passing quickly and wasn’t planning on passing anytime soon. You look down and notice that he’s still in his compression shirt and workout shorts which is odd since after practice he would come home in a more home-like outfit, usually some sweatpants and a sweatshirt. “Did you not take a shower before you left?”.
“Nope, I wanted to get to the store and get home as soon as I could to be with you,”.
He was so thoughtful, never failing to show how much he cared for you. The next 9 months were going to be perfect as you had the most extraordinary person by your side every step of the way. You pull Joe forward by his shoulder, letting his body cover yours again like last night as you melt back into the pillows.
“I’m super sweaty and you’re still not 100% better yet, Y/N,” he laughed. “I think this can wait,”.
“I have pure intentions,” you smile as you wrap your arms around his neck. “And I can take another shower as long as I get my cuddles,”.
“You hate when I touch you when I’m sweaty,” he scoffed. 
“Well, I guess I like it now,” you giggle as you press a few kisses to his cheek. Your hands travel down to his back, rubbing his soft skin through the thin fabric of his compression shirt
“In the 6 years that we have been together, you’ve never once willingly hugged me when I was sweaty and gross,” he says as he digs his head further into the crook of your neck. . It was true, you hated touching him when he was all gross and grimy, but you didn’t care right now. You just wanted him close to you, and now your baby as well. 
“I just want you close, that’s all,” you smile.
“You okay?” he asks before he presses a delicate kiss to your neck.
“I’m great, maybe even a little over the moon,” you say as you bite your lip.
“Care to tell me why?” he says, pulling his head out of your neck and making eye contact with you. You could never lie to Joe; anytime you tried he could see you weren’t being truthful by just looking into your eyes. 
Tell-tale eyes are what he called them, your eyes always gave it away. Your eyes gave away how you felt about Joe when you first met, which was that you wanted him more than anything on this planet. Your eyes gave away how much you loved him when he made one of your dreams come true by taking you on a trip to Ohio back in December when you were in college and driving you hours away to the beach just to see the snow falling, something incredibly weird yet breathtakingly beautiful. And now, your eyes were about to give away the fact that you were pregnant. 
You break the intense eye contact and look up at the ceiling to avoid his eyes, the perfect lie popping up in your head, “I think Dylan is proposing to Sophia soon,”. This wasn’t really a lie but it was the perfect thing to hide the real reason why you were acting like this.
“Really? That’s great,” Joe smiled. “He’s a really cool guy,”. 
“I know right? I remember in middle school when we would go on and on about our dream guys, our prince charmings, and I’m so glad she found hers,” you say as you move your hand back up to his hair.
“Did you find yours?” he asked, a solemn look on his face.  
You gaze into his eyes for a few moments before leaning in and capturing his lips in a sweet kiss, “I found him and he’s even better than what I imagined,”. 
“I love you,” he says against your lips.
“I love you even more,” you say as you pull his head back down to your neck, his arm moving around your waist. You feel him rest his hand on your stomach, completely oblivious to the fact that he is touching his child right now; the thought of that makes you smile even harder.  You stayed like that for about half an hour before Joe insisted that he took a shower, even inviting you to join him but adding that there would be no funny business, but you said you would take a shower before bed so you could be fully relaxed. 
You made your way downstairs, inspecting all the things he got you from the store. A variety of medicines–many of which will help combat the morning sickness you will be dealing with for the next few months–the icecream you requested, a box of dark chocolates (your guilty pleasure), a bouquet of baby pink and white tulips, and an adorable pink dinosaur holding a heart plushie. You smile at the treats he got for you before you feel a hand on either side of your hips and then a set of lips pressing kisses along your shoulder. 
“Got you some things to hopefully make you feel better,” he mumbled against your skin.
“I didn’t even hear you come downstairs,” your eyes widened at the sudden touch, Joe laughing at your reaction. 
“Put a bell on me at this point,” he jokes.
“Might have to,” you say as you turn around to face him, his hands still holding you in place. “Thanks for the goodies,” you smile. 
“Of course,” he said as he leaned in for a kiss. “Although, I still don’t know why you wanted Mint Chocolate Chip ice cream. You always say it tastes like toothpaste whenever you take a bite of mine,”.
“Maybe it’s just my taste buds changing again? Everything I used to like a lot tastes gross, and everything I used to hate a lot tastes good,”. Part of that is possibly true, your taste buds could have changed a bit because you’re pregnant, but the ice cream was definitely the beginning of the strange cravings you were going to have. 
“If that’s the case, maybe you’ll like crawfish now,” he smiled.
“Absolutely not,” you say, your face scrunching up in disgust. “I didn’t like it in Louisiana, and I sure as hell will not like it now,”.
“It was worth a try,” he said as he dropped his head. 
You press a kiss to his face, feeling his scruff against your lips, before moving out of his hold and walking over to the cabinet to pull out a bowl for the ice cream. “Will ice cream make you feel better?” you laugh.
He looks up, contemplating for a few seconds before saying, “Ice cream and Mario Kart would make me feel better,”. 
“Your wish is my command. Go sit down, I’ll bring you some ice cream,” you say as you pull out two bowls. 
“Nope,” he says as you hear him walk over to you. “You go sit down. I will get us some ice cream,”. 
“I got it,” you smile. You watch as he places his hands on his hips and tilts his head, this is his standing-on business pose and told you to not argue with him. 
“Alright, Alright. I’ll go sit down,” you say as you throw your hands up.
“Good,” he says as he turns you around and lightly pushes you forward. 
You sit down on the couch and turn on the switch to load up Mario Kart, one of your favorite games next to Smash Bros. You and Joe would always find yourself playing Mario Kart, and it all started on your 3rd date back in college. You get to the profile selection screen, seeing Joe’s ‘Mario’ profile and your ‘Princess Peach’ one which makes you remember when it all started. 
Flashback to LSU
You were sitting next to Joe on the floor of his apartment, both your knees touching as you were heavily concentrated on the game in front of you. You were playing in the ‘Special Cup’ and were on your 4th map—Rainbow Road—and you two were neck and neck with each other. 
“You’re going to lose slowpoke,” you smirk as you get in front of Joe, your competitive nature coming out.
“I never lose,” he smiles as he uses his boost to get in front of you, dropping a banana peel while he is at it causing you to spin out of control.  
“Noo,” you whine as you repeatedly press the buttons on your controller to regain your form. 
This was your 3rd date with Joe. Earlier he had taken you to the aquarium because you both were incredibly fascinated by marine life, and then lunch at your favorite taco place downtown. After, he invited you back to his place to watch a movie which then turned into playing Mario Kart once you saw his gaming stuff. 
You met Joe through a mutual friend at a college party a few weeks ago, his intoxicating eyes catching yours from across the room but you were too nervous to make a move given who he was. Little did you know your best friend’s new boyfriend was good friends with Joe, so then you ended up meeting him for real. The first time you were face to face, you felt yourself getting lost in his eyes as they were bluer than the ocean. He made the first move, striking up an unusual yet entertaining conversation about whether pineapple belonged on pizza as you both were eating pizza.
You and Joe hit it off instantly as you had a lot of things in common and talking to each other felt so incredibly easy, you both wanted to sit there and talk to each other for hours and hours and would have if you were sitting someplace else. He was also the most gorgeous man you had ever laid your eyes on which made you want to get to know him in another type of way as well, but you kept that to yourself. Lucky for you, he asked you out on a date right after the party was over and naturally you said yes. 
The 1st date went amazingly, then 2nd date was even better, and now you were playing video games with him in his apartment after your 3rd date. Joe was such a sweet guy, always paying attention to you and making it incredibly obvious that he really liked you. He thought you were the coolest girl he’d ever met and loved spending time with you because it always left him feeling more lively than he was before. You made him so happy.
You lean forward, your fingers rapidly dancing around the controller as you try to get ahead of Joe as you approach the final stretch of the map. 
“How did you get so close so fast?” he said in disbelief. 
“Told you, you’re a slowpoke,” you giggle as you pass him, the finish line in sight. 
Joe scoffs and leans in, his fingers beginning to move around the controller rapidly as he tries to overtake you, but you are too good for him.
“Aaaannnnd, I win!” you yell as you make it to the finish line before him, Joe arriving shortly after. You laugh as you throw your hands in the air, watching as the screen shows your character Princess Peach with confetti and balloons around her and a congratulations message on the screen.
“Damn,” Joe whispers as he looks over at you looking absolutely precious as you celebrate your victory. His eyes trailed down to what you were wearing: one of his LSU football hoodies. He gave it to you after your last date because he took you to a drive-in movie and it was a really windy night and you felt cold; the fact that you wore it again made his heart swell.
“You’re going to have to try harder than that, Mario,” you smile as you move your legs underneath you and turn to look at him, Joe’s character being Mario and yours being Peach. 
“Peach always ends up with Mario. I’ll get you sooner rather than later,” he winks, sending shivers down your spine. Was he talking about getting you in the game, or getting you in real life?
“Oh yeah? What makes you so sure?” you say as you raise an eyebrow, giving him a quizzical look. 
“Because,” he says as he leans in a little closer to you, your cheeks feeling hot all of a sudden. “Mario really likes Peach and it’s only a matter of time before Peach confesses that she does too,”.
You felt your heart skip a beat when he was speaking. He was talking about the two of you. 
“How do you know Peach likes Mario? I don’t think she’s ever said it,” you say, playing along with what Joe was saying. 
“Yeah, she’s never said it,” he shrugged. “But Mario can see the way Peach looks at him and acts around him. Peach’s eyes give it away, her tell-tale eyes,”. 
You lean in closer just like he did, “What is it about her eyes that give it away?”.
“It’s the way her eyes are always twinkling when she’s with Mario. Every time he makes her laugh or smile he notices that her eyes start sparkling and twinkling and he notices that they don’t do that when her friends or someone else makes her laugh,” he says, moving a little closer to you and placing his hand on top of yours. 
He was right. The way you acted around Joe was different than how you acted around others. With him, it was different. Good different. 
“Well, Mario must be doing something to make Peach act like that. Eyes only twinkle and sparkle when someone is feeling strong emotions,” you smile as you gaze into Joe’s starry eyes. 
“Exactly,” he nods. “She must be feeling strong emotions towards Mario,”.
“I guess she is,” you say short of a whisper, your heart rate increasing as butterflies swarm your belly. You liked Joe. You liked Joe a lot. 
Joe felt his heart explode when you said that. “I like you,” he blurted after leaning in even closer, his face just inches from yours. 
“I like you too,” you smile as you look down at his lips and then back to his eyes again. 
You feel him lift his hand off of yours and cup your face, stroking his thumb across your cheek. “I like you a lot,” he said again. 
“I like you a lot too,” you blush. 
You see Joe leaning in more, your palms getting sweaty as you know what is about to happen, but you don’t let your nerves stop you. You leaned in as well and a few seconds later your lips were now touching. Joe felt himself melt into the kiss as your lips felt like clouds against his, so soft and warm. His lips felt icy against yours, icy but soft at the same time. The warmth of your lips was radiating onto his and he felt amazing. 
You lifted your hand and stuffed it into his hair as he reached for your waist and pulled you closer to the point where you were practically in his lap; the kiss now getting deeper with no sign of stopping in sight. 
A few minutes later, you both pull away for some air, a big smile on both of your faces. “Your lips are so soft,” he said.
“I’m glad you liked them,” you blushed. 
“I told you I’d get you sooner rather than later,” he said as he peppered kisses along your jaw.
“I’m really glad you did,” you said as you pulled his head back up and leaned in to kiss him again, Joe falling back against the carpet and bringing you down with him as you both smiled into the kiss. 
End of flashback 
You smile at the memory and then suddenly a lightbulb goes off in your head. This was the perfect way to tell Joe you were pregnant. You could make Baby Burrow his or her own profile on Mario Kart and the next time Joe opened the game, he would see it. You still had that sweatshirt he gave you that you were wearing the day you told each other how you felt about each other and could wrap the Pregnancy Tests in the hoodie. It was the perfect callback to what really started it all for you both. 
“Here you go,” Joe said, breaking you out of your trance as he handed you a bowl and sat down next to you. 
“Thank you,” you smile as you press a quick kiss to his cheek. “You ready for me to beat you again?” you giggle.
“Please,” he scoffs. “I told you, Mario always gets Peach and not just in real life. You ain’t beating me for shit,” he laughed. 
“Oh, it’s on,” you say as you take a bite of the minty ice cream, which actually tastes really good. 
The next afternoon 
Today went by pretty quickly, Joe left early in the morning for practice and you had a fairly normal morning until you threw up halfway through your light workout session. Morning Sickness was going to get old fast. You took a nice bath after to calm down your nausea and to unwind which definitely helped. When you looked in the mirror after your bath, you saw that your belly was peeking out a little more which would definitely be noticeable if you were wearing a skin-tight shirt so you opted for one of Joe’s hoodies since they were super baggy on you. You read online that most women won’t show until their 8th or 10th week, but first pregnancies are different and you can show pretty early on which you thought was your case. 
Joe ordered you soup again for lunch which was just as delicious as yesterday’s, and now you were sitting on the couch trying to work on your surprise for Joe when he got home which was in about 20 minutes or so. 
You had found the sweatshirt he gave you–his Louisianimals one–and placed the two pregnancy tests in the middle of the sweatshirt and folded it inward so that he would see it when he opened it. You then placed it inside of a gift bag and hid it on the side of the couch. 
You opened up Mario Kart and made it to the profile screen, contemplating on how you should go about this. There was no general ‘baby’ character, but there was a ‘Baby Mario’ and ‘Baby Peach’ and since you didn’t know if you were having a boy or girl, this was perfect. You made one profile ‘Baby Mario’ and named it “Baby”. Then, you made a second profile ‘Baby Peach’ and named it “Burrow”. Side by side they both read out “Baby Burrow” with the two baby characters. 
“Hopefully this doesn’t make him think it’s twins,” you chuckle as you stare at the screen. 
You hear the garage open, thanking god that this time you heard Joe come home otherwise the surprise would have been ruined. You quickly close up the game, switch the TV back to its normal screen, and then take a few breaths to ease up before he comes inside. 
You watch him stroll inside, humming whatever song he was listening to in the car. He places his practice bag on the kitchen island before walking over to you on the couch. This time he was in sweats and a hoodie, meaning he took a shower before he left. 
“Hey Y/N,” he said as he leaned down to press a kiss to your lips.
“Hey, Babe. How was practice?” you smiled as you tried to contain your anticipation and excitement at what was about to happen.   
“Really good,” he nodded before walking back over to the kitchen to grab water and some juice for you. “How are you feeling? I didn’t get any break time to check in on you,”.
“I’m good,” you said to him. “I felt a bit sick after my light workout but that’s about it,” you say, downplaying it because you didn’t want him to get worried again especially since the real reason for it is much sweeter than a stomach bug. 
“You need any meds or anything?” he asks from the kitchen as he pours you a glass of pomegranate juice.
“No, I think I’m good for now,” you say as you play with the rings on your finger, you wanted him to hurry up so that you could tell him the big news as you were struggling to contain yourself. 
He walks over with his water and your juice, handing you the glass before sitting down next to you and draping part of your blanket over him. “Thank you,” you say as you take a sip of the juice. 
“Of course. My mom said pomegranate juice is the way to go with stomach bugs,” he said as he took a gulp of his water. 
It’s also the perfect juice for pregnant women since it’s incredibly nuteritous and provides a lot of vitamins and antioxidants for you and the baby, but Joe didn’t know that.
“Something about Vitamins and Antioxidants,” he adds. 
“Ohh, I know,” you smile, acting incredibly suspicious. 
He looks at you, slightly confused at what you meant, but not bothering to dig at it. “So, what do you want to do this afternoon? I’m free the rest of the day so we can do whatever, nap, watch a movie…”.
“Mario Kart?” you ask, trying really hard to not give it away with your eyes and smile.
“Again? Even after you got your ass kicked last night?” he laughed.
“Listen, it was 1 bad cup! I’ve won many more than you can even count,” you whine. 
“Okayyy,” he said as he placed his water down on the coffee table and grabbed the controllers. “If you say so but I better not get any sore loser talk if you lose again,” he joked.
“Deal,” you grin as you feel butterflies in your stomach while watching him turn on the Switch and load up the game.
“Here we go,” you think to yourself as you move the blanket off so you can easily grab the bag from the side of the couch where you hid it when you needed to. 
The Switch turns on and Joe clicks the Mario Kart icon, passing you a controller before moving back into the couch and getting comfortable. The screen switches to the welcome screen and he clicks the play button, the screen now on the profile’s menu. 
You feel the world stop, your heart stop, and your breath stop as you turn your face to Joe’s, carefully examining his expression.
You see him pause at the screen, his brows furrowing at the two new profiles on the menu and reading them over while looking at the icons above them. 
“Baby…Burrow?” he muttered under his breath.
You notice the exact moment when he realizes what that means, his mouth slightly falling open as he turns his head over at you. You give him a smile before reaching for the bag you hid, pulling it up, and placing it in his lap.
“What–,” he begins to say before you interrupt him.
“Open this first,” you say as you nod to the bag you placed in front of him. 
Joe quickly reaches into the bag and pulls out the hoodie, looking incredibly confused at why you were giving it to him. “Why are you giving me a sweatshirt?”.
“Open it,” you say as you place your hand on his knee. Tears started to form in your eyes as you watched him open up the sweatshirt, the 2 positive tests resting right in the middle of the logo on the hoodie. He picks them up and brings them close to his face, his eyes softening at what he was looking at and a smile forming on his face. 
“Y/N, are you serious?” he asked as he looked over at you; his eyes were so incredibly delicate and glossy, and his lips curled into a beautiful smile. “You’re pregnant?”. 
“Mhm,” you nodded, the tears now falling from your cheeks and down onto the couch. “Surprise,” you said in between tears.
“Oh my god,” he said as he looked back down at the tests before placing everything to the side and pulling you into him. “Holy shit,” he said as he rested his chin on your shoulder, his tears falling down and onto your shirt. 
“I can’t believe it,” he said as he hugged you tightly. “We’re having a baby,” he laughed in between the tears. Joe felt like his heart was about to beat out of his chest because of the news. He was going to be a dad, for real. And the most incredible woman he had ever met was about to be a mother. 
“Are you happy?” you asked him, your tears falling even harder now.
He lifted his head and met your eyes, “I’m fucking amazing,” he said before pressing a kiss to your lips. “We’re going to be parents. You’re having our baby,” he said as he pressed a few more kisses to your lips. “I don’t think I’ve ever been happier,”. 
“I love you,” you sniffle as you meet his eyes again, his eyes filled with a love that you’ve never seen before. Love for both of you, you and the baby. 
“I love you so so much,” he said as he pressed more kisses around your face before releasing you from his arms. 
He looked down at your belly and then looked up at your eyes again, you knew exactly what he was waiting for. You lifted your sweatshirt up, his eyes landing on your small bump. 
“Oh my god,” he whispered as he reached out to touch your bump, but froze before his hand could lay on it. You saw his hesitation and took his hand and placed it on your bump, resting your hand on top of his.
“That’s our baby?” he said as he looked back up at you, your eyes twinkling and sparkling. 
“That’s our baby,” you nod as you wipe your tears with your other hand. 
He leaned forward and pressed a kiss on your belly, your heart swelling at the adorable interaction. 
“Hey little Tiger,” he said to your belly. “I know you can’t hear me yet, but it’s Daddy,” he said as he looked up at you again, a huge smile on your face. “I love you so much, Baby Burrow. Me and Mommy can’t wait to see you,” he said before pressing another kiss to your stomach and moving back up to you.
“This doesn’t feel real,” he said as he wiped his face before grabbing your hand and pressing a kiss to it.
“Tell me about it,” you laughed.
“When did you find out?” he asked as he looked at the tests again. 
“Yesterday,” you said as you wiped your eyes again. 
“So then the throwing up, tiredness, sore boobs, taste changes, and cravings are all..”.
“Pregnancy Symptoms,” you say as you nod your head. 
“Damn,” he whispered. “I guess my Mama Bear antics were not helping since it isn’t a stomach bug,”.
“I guess not. But I love Mama Bear Joe and her antics and wouldn’t trade her for the world,” you grin.
“I’ll remember that because it’s about to get a whole lot worse for the next 9 months,” he laughed. 
“I’m...No. We're prepared,” you say as you lean in for another kiss, this one a little longer than the others as you two enjoy each other's warmth. 
“That was pretty clever by the way,” he said as he pulled away and pointed to the menu. 
“You like it?” you ask as you bite your lip. 
“Oh hell yeah. It’s a great callback to how it all started. Mario and Peach, but now with a Baby Mario or Baby Peach on the way,” he said as he recalled that afternoon in his apartment. “The sweatshirt I gave you too. You really thought it all out,”. 
“I’m really glad you liked it,” you say as you feel more tears forming in your eyes. “And I’m so glad you’re happy,”.
He stared into your eyes for a few moments before carefully moving you closer to him so that you were in his lap. “I’m beyond happy, Y/N. I can’t wait to do this with you. I love you and our baby more than anything in the world,”. 
“We love you too,” you smile as you drop your head to his shoulder, feeling his hand rub your back.
“In 9 months we’re going to have our own child running around,” he said, the thought still feels surreal. 
“Well, I’d give it more time before little Tiger starts running around,” you laugh. 
“Little Tiger has my genetics so we shall see about that one,” he smiled.
“I’m going to make sure that you don’t order any foam baby footballs,” you say as you pull your head out of his shoulder. 
“Hey, I gotta teach them young so that by the time they’re 7 or 8 they have that future QB arm and love for football,” he said, slightly offended at your hesitation. 
“We shall see about that one,” you say as you echo his words back to him. “No doubt about the love for football, but we’ll see about the future QB arm. Besides, what if we have a girl?”.
“Well, if we have a girl they have girl's flag football and I wouldn’t mind being an advocate for a girl's football team at whatever school Baby Burrow goes to,”. “Oh my god, we sound like parents,” he said as he rolled his eyes.
“I mean, we’re almost there,” you giggled as you moved his hair out of his eyes. 
“Yeah, but we have 9 months. No need to get all parenty yet,” he said as he kissed a trail along your jawline and gripped your waist. “We’re still basically horny newlyweds since it’s only been a year and a half,”.
“Joe!” you shrieked, appalled at the words that came out of his mouth. 
“Hey,” he said in defense of himself. “It’s true though. And I’m pretty sure you can have Sex while pregnant so we should be fine,”. 
You drop your head back down to his shoulder before you both break out into a fit of laughter. “This is going to be an interesting 9 months,” you said. 
“You can count on it,” he said as he rubbed the back of your head. “We’re going to have a lot of interesting firsts too,”.
“Mhm,” you nod. “First OBGYN appointment, first ultrasound, first heartbeat, first kick, first time baby clothes shopping, first time decorating a nursery, first time telling friends and family,”. 
“God, I can’t wait,” he smiled.
“Me either. This is a dream,” you said as you pressed yourself closer to him. 
“You are a dream, all of this is possible because of you,” he said. You could hear his heartbeat through his chest which made you want to cry again, he was truly happy. 
“It’s only possible because I have someone like you with me,” you said as you kissed his shoulder. Joe was the best boyfriend, best fiancee, best husband, and now was going to be the best father. He was incredible. 
“We’re going to be amazing parents, I know it,” he said as he thought about the next 9 months and then the many years after you would go through together as parents.
“Mmm, I can’t wait,” you squeal.
“I love you, Y/N, this was the sweetest surprise,” he said before he pressed a kiss to your forehead, both of you melting into each other’s embrace as you started to think about what the future was going to look like as a family of 3.
–The End–
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tryingtofindava · 7 months ago
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hi !! could u write tyler x fem reader where they are dating, and instead of tyler being impaled by a tree it’s his girlfriend ! thank u
── 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄!
{[TYLER HERNANDEZ X FEM! READER]}
: ̗̀➛Back to Source
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Your breath was staggered, twitching every few seconds or so. Trying your best to keep your eyes open, which proved to be a tricky task.
‘I wonder if I’ll die in the real world.’ Your thoughts spoke loudly, too loudly for your own liking. Why was it so quiet anyways?
Have the other’s drove off?
Will you ever see your friends again?
Will you ever see Tyler again?
I hope they’re safe from that… thing…
Is this how you die?
Thoughts like these consumed your mind. Y/n let out a defeated grunt, as she tried to push herself from the tree one more time. Her efforts were all futile though…
She is quite literally a human kabab. On this dead tree. In the middle of fuck all. The girl sighed shakily, her tear filled eyes trailing down to her stomach.
Looking at the tree that had pierced right through her very being, blood gushing out of you at an alarming rate, making it look like a Saw movie in real life.
This sucks major a-
SNAP!
Your head wipe to the side, your puffy eyes widening at the grinning face staring back at you. Shit. You have to get off this tree. Now.
Your brain is in overdrive as you try to push yourself up to escape from the phantom that was approaching rapidly. You close your eyes real tight, waiting for the phantom to scale the tree with ease and end your suffering.
TWACK!
Opening your eyes and peering down, blood dribbling from home parted lips. “Y/n!” You heard the red heads voice call up to you, though it was all muddled from the blood loss.
“Ashlyn, have you found her-“ Tyler looked up, his mouth falling open in utter shock. His hand shakes as he shone his flashlight up on your hanging body.
“Help me get her down!” Ash called out to the boy, who hurriedly went to help the leader to save his girlfriend. While Ben, Aiden, Taylor, and Logan watch from the sidelines.
Making quick work to get the needed medical equipment Ashlyn’s dad had placed in the real world for them to use to help.
You let out a pained whine as you feel Tyler lift you from the bark of the tree. His brows were furrowed as he focused on doing this as quick as possible to not prolong your pain.
“You’re safe now, I got you…” He murmurs quietly to you shaking form.
Everyone in the group made team effort to help you, all while Tyler gripped onto you so hard like if he let go it’d be game over. Mumbling reassurances, though you couldn’t tell id it was to you or himself.
Aiden was talking your ear off to keep you awake. “Y’know? This isn’t even that bad! One time, my bone went right through my knee while playing soccer!” He blabs, though it didn’t help you feel better or assured at all.
“Dude, not the time!” Your boyfriend scolds him, while he rocks you in his shaking arms. While Ben and Logan stitched the gaping hole going through your back to your stomach.
“You’re gonna be okay, I promise… I won’t let anything bad happen to you ever again.” He squeezes your arm.
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A/N: SOZ THIS WAS SHORT!! ^_^ I’ll probably add more and make it better in the future lolz :3
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