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moonydustx · 4 months

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A not so funny story

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Summary: With Uta controlling everyone and the marine attacking, you needed to contain an unconscious Law who was looking to join the fight. Now, you need to deal with the consequences of him finding out about this.

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x F!Reader

Warnings: blood, Law hurts Reader (not on purpose), they both love each other, but they are idiots who don't know how to talk. Law doesn't know how to express his feelings in this one. Angst, kinda fluff/happy ending.

W/C: 3.6k

A/N: I just saw the movie Red and the idea came to my mind. I need to shake off the rust and get back to writing, I thought it would be a good solution. Despite being linked to the film OP Red, there may be some things that differ from the canon.

For those who haven't seen the film, a spoiler-free context: in the film, we see a singer called Uta, who Bepo is a fan of and, together with Law, go to the show. Problems happen, she puts everyone to sleep and with her power, she manipulates these sleeping people to fight with other people who want to stop her.

italics apply to flashbacks and thoughts

Part 2 | Part 3 (NSFW)

The cold stone beneath you contrasted with your hot, sweaty body. You could feel the wounds burning on your body and if you reached out your hand, you could find the cause of them, your captain.

In the distance, you could hear someone calling your name and it didn't take long for Penguin to appear in your field of vision.

"Are you okay?"

"He gave me a hard time, but I'm fine. And you?" You grumbled, sitting up and taking in your surroundings. Apparently everyone had gone back to sleep.

"We're tired but fine. You're bleeding, do you need any help?"

"Everything is fine." You stood, with his help. "We need to get them out of here, I doubt the marines will miss the chance to catch so many pirates gathered in one place. At the very least, this will end in a fight."

You chose to help carry Bepo back to Polar Tang. Even though he was big, sharing the weight would be much easier than carrying Law alone. As soon as you entered the submarine, you disappeared from sight, leaving all of Uta's fight behind.

"Do you guys need help? I can see some pretty bad injuries from here." Ikkaku approached, already stopping the blood on your forehead. "Are they both okay?"

"We should take them to the infirmary and keep them under observation." you warned, seeing two other crew members carry them out of sight. "Can we get away from the fight?"

"Yeah, off their radar." someone answered you in the background.

"Perfect, keep us at this depth, keep an eye on the radios, any sign of change, if Law hasn't woken up, you look for me." You leaned against one of the tables, trying to ignore some of the pain in your body.

It was supposed to be just a quick show, at least that's what Bepo had said. Unfortunately for Law, he ended up being the polar bear's requested companion.

"Sure you don't want to change places with me?" Law appeared next to you, while you finished cleaning the kitchen.

"No captain, I'll be right here, with my duties." You smiled at him and, despite being frustrated, he let out a sideways smile.

"You know that I'm the captain right? That I can give the order and you have to go and I don't."

"You wouldn't be so mean, would you?" you asked indignantly and on one of the few occasions, you heard him laugh, even if it was low tone. "Captain!"

"I'm kidding. Just keep an eye on everything, okay? Don't let Shachi and Penguin cause any trouble."

"Yes, sir. And you, enjoy the show."

You were almost regretting not accepting the proposal. Law would certainly be much better at containing you and preventing you from getting into a big fight than you would be doing the opposite. But you liked the idea of him trusting you.

"Everything is alright?" Ikkaku took you out of your reverie, noticing your body slightly bent and the blood falling on your forehead.

"Try holding back a furious Trafalgar Law from wanting to get into a fight and tell me if that's okay." You laughed, even though it took some of the air out of you. "Just a few bruises, nothing major."

"Come on, I'll help you take care of this." Ikkaku gently pulled you by the hand.

"Boys, do you deal with them?" you asked and they both nodded. "If Law wakes up, don't say anything to him about our little fight."

"You mean, about the big fucking beating he gave you?" Shachi teased you, earning a push.

"Exactly. He has bigger problems to worry about than dealing with this."

You and Ikkaku headed towards the dorm you shared. Your friend made a point of supporting you at every step, even if you insisted it wasn't necessary. She sat you down on the bed and grabbed a small first aid kit hidden on one of the shelves.

"Why not tell the captain?"

"Outch" you mumbled with one of the stitches she had on your face. "I have a feeling he's not going to like that we got into this fight without his presence."

"I think he'll be more resentful that you were the one who held him back." You laughed at her silly observation, then grumbled with another needle. Damn fight. "Don't act stupid."

"What you mean?"

"I'll let you choose. Between you being the only one who can steal books from him without him complaining or about every time we disembark, you having to be on his side. Should I mention that time he freaked out because Kid wanted to take you to the crew from him?" she laughed to herself, at her own memory. "What do you need to see that he likes you too?"

"And who said I like him?"

"Okay, you still want to keep hiding your feelings for him, just hide it better." she laughed again. It was clear to her - and anyone else who saw - that there was something between the two of you. You just prefer not to feed this illusion. "Still, I agree that he won't like all this one bit. Let's try to keep out of his sight."

Law was still trying to assimilate everything that happened. Uta's show had turned into a war scene and in the end, even he had become a puppet. That idea would haunt him for a long time.

Despite recent events, Polar Tang was quiet, too quiet. He could hear some buzzing, nothing he could identify. Another thing he couldn't place was you. The last time he saw you, he had tried to bargain for your presence at the show, even though he had asked to change places with you, he didn't think the idea of going with you was bad. You'd probably hate the song, but he'd enjoy your sarcastic comments about any awkward situation. A small laugh crossed his lips when he thought about what you would say to see little Bepo.

At dinner, he observed Shachi, Penguin and Bepo, talking to each other. The concerned expressions denoted the seriousness of the matter, but that could come later. Even though he slept through it all, he still felt tired.

At lunch the next day, again, nothing from you. Ikkaku was also missing. It was impossible for the two of them to have disappeared together and without any justification. He tried not to think about the worst-case scenarios, but no matter how much he denied it, he wasn't such an optimistic person.

It only took a few seconds of your three companions stalling for him to know that you and Ikkaku were up to something or had already been up to something. He left them behind, following with firm steps to your room.

"I didn't see you two at lunch or yesterday at dinner, I wanted to know..." you two found Law leaning against the door of your room. His relaxed position disappeared in seconds when he looked at where Ikkaku's hand joined your forehead. "What happened?"

"Just a few scratches, nothing major." your colleague replied before you could open your mouth. She knew - actually, you weren't that good at hiding it - about your feelings and how easily you could wrap your head around your own words.

"Yeah, they're from yesterday, some scratches." you tried to complement, the captain's serious expression made it clear that that hadn't helped at all.

"Nothing much and that's why you haven't shown up since yesterday?" he grumbled and before he could continue his lecture, he felt his body being pushed forward, with Bepo, Shachi and Penguin falling beside him. "What the fuck?"

"We just wanted to know if you already know that she was the one..." before the bear finished speaking, the other two covered his mouth.

The grey eyes trailed from you to Ikkaku, to the group lying next to him, and back to you again. The small stress that was forming inside Law turned into concern when he saw the small trickle of blood dripping from your eyebrow.

It only took a few moments away for you to appear like that and he would never tolerate that, you didn't need to know about his feelings or how he was already thinking about taking revenge on whoever had done that, he would deal with it after taking care of your wound .

"Everyone out." you made to follow Ikkaku, stopping a few meters away. "Not you, I need to see this."

The door to the small room knocked subtly behind Law, who waited for a few seconds to approach you. The two of you already had a considerable height difference, but when you felt Law's cold, tattooed fingers on your chin, you felt even smaller. He turned both sides of your face, despite the cold touch, you could feel your skin burn beneath his fingers.

"You're warm, but I don't see any trace of infection." Not this one, you thought. "Give me the name?"

"Name?"

"Which idiot did this?" he replied without much patience, his fingers leaving your face behind.

"This is going to be a funny story." you laughed, stopping immediately when you saw him look deep into your eyes, his expression serious in an almost irritating way.

"Someone decided to hurt one of my crew. I don't think it's such a funny story. Who did it?"

"Captain of the Heart Pirates, Trafalgar Law." your answer didn't seem to catch him instantly, with each word that left your mouth, you could see him getting paler and paler. "I believe you already know, but Uta managed to control everyone who was asleep to attack the pirates and the marines and with that, you and Bepo were also controlled. The boys held Bepo and I had to deal with you, but everything is fine. "

"They told me about Bepo..." he seemed lost for words, taking a certain distance from you and leaning on the small table in your room. "So you restrained me, alone?"

"You, actually Uta, didn't have access to your Devil Fruit powers, it ended up being easier. After all, our mission was just to keep you two away from the navy." you explained, leaning on the opposite side to where he was, seeing his crestfallen expression. "Like I said, it's okay captain."

"Where else did I hurt you?" the question took you by surprise, making it difficult to hide your reaction. "I know my strength, I have a feeling it wasn't just that. I could see it myself, but I trust you, so please."

With your fists clenched and your gaze following your every step, Law could see your hand go to your ribs, along with a grumble, as you bent down to pick up a small cloth and fill it with something that smelled similar to alcohol. As much as he noticed you trying hard, he could see you limping. He watched you smear the contents on one of your cheeks and your arm, revealing some bruises.

You stopped in front of him, letting him analyze. Despite the pain throughout your body, Law's proximity was almost like an anesthetic. If he stayed there, you wouldn't mind spending the day under his gaze. Law took your arm, gently sliding his fingers under the bruise, watching you flinch in discomfort. His hands practically put your arm back in place and placed themselves on the zipper of your jumpsuit.

Your hands placed themselves next to his, pulling the device and opening the entire piece. Of all the times he had dreamed of touching your skin, none had felt like this. He liked to imagine how soft it would be, to think about how your body would shiver, to feel with his own lips every piece of exposed skin, while he heard you ask for more. All the purple spots he had dreamed of leaving on your skin were nothing like the one he saw. Thoughts would need to be put aside at that moment.

His hand knocked down one side of your jumpsuit, showing the large bruise on your rib, which made him hold his breath for a few seconds.

"What else?" his voice was barely audible. He knew there was more to it, but he didn't want to be invasive.

"Just this cut." you took off the other strap of your jumpsuit and let it fall below your waist, showing the wound on your thigh. It wasn't that big, but when you both looked at the place, you understood where all the warmth in your body was coming from. "Shit. It wasn't like this last time I looked." actually it was, you just wanted to spare him the worry.

You adjusted your jumpsuit, leaving the top hanging around your waist. Your eyes searched for Law's, but he seemed to be far away, even just a few centimeters away. For some time, he didn't say anything. His eyes followed one point you had shown and others, looking for other signs. His hands prostrated in front of his body, why had he done that? Why hurt you?

"Law?"

"I...I..." the words seemed stuck somewhere inside him. His hands placed themselves next to your face, a gesture you hadn't received from him yet. "I don't know how to apologize. Forgive me, I didn't want any of this to happen."

"No need, Law, really. I was doing what any of us would do, taking care of our crew, taking care of our captain."

Again the words seemed to have escaped him. He just wished he could hold you and apologize a thousand times, hold you there and heal every little part of you and never allow anything to hurt you again. Some conscious side of him screamed in the background that this wasn't anyone's fault, but the sound seemed so far away to hear, while the picture of what he had done was so close to him.

A few seconds passed, his hands were still on your face, while you just enjoyed the awkward affection you received. He didn't know how to deal with that feeling, it was a guilt like he had never felt. Along with a fear, a need to see you well. There were too many things to deal with and at that moment, he chose to be the most rational one.

"It's infected and may have broken something." Law let his medical side take control of the situation. "Room. Shambles."

Before you even noticed the blue dome surrounding you, the two of you had already been transported to the infirmary. You remained standing in your place as you watched the captain hurriedly walk around the room, collecting some materials and before you could try to get on the stretcher, the two of you were already being taken to another place.

The table full of books, the small window of the Polar Tang showing some little orange fish passing by outside, a cozy bed, even with the sheets spread out. That definitely wasn't your room. You watched Law leave the materials on the table and reach Kikoku. You saw the blue dome again, this time, you knew that he was using his powers to confirm that you had indeed presented all your injuries to him.

"I was worried about your rib, but apparently it was just the bruise. Now about your leg, I may need to redo those stitches and medicate you. I can't let the infection spread."

You knew he was nervous, bordering on anxious, but you had known him long enough to know that stopping him from treating you would be even worse. You had chosen to hide your injuries so that Law wouldn't feel guilty, now that he knew, you didn't have much else to do.

"Law." you called out to him carefully, as he prepared the medication. "Do you mind if I bathe first?"

"Sure, I mean, no problem. Just wait a second." He walked away from the table and piled up some things, which he handed into your hand. "Here's my towel, I also left some clothes in case you want to use them, if you don't want to, that's okay. I can ask Ikkaku..."

"This is perfect, thank you Law." you hugged the small bundle of clothes close to your body.

"Room." again, in a matter of seconds, you were at the bathroom door. "I'm sorry, but your leg is really hurt, you shouldn't force it while walking."

"Okay" unlike the time he had taken you to the infirmary, now he had transported you close to each other, which made the air disappear from your lungs. "Can you wait for me? I mean, you said I wouldn't I should force my leg and..."

"I'll be outside, just call me and I'll be here." Please call me, Law's inner voice practically screamed.

Your shower was much quicker than you expected. Just knowing that he was waiting for you outside made butterflies fight in your stomach. You gently dried your body and took the clothes he had given you. Something that looked like shorts - it might have been underwear, but you didn't worry about that right now - and a black button-down shirt. As soon as you button the last button, you can pay attention to the smell of the fabric. Something soft, woody, you wondered if that was his scent.

"Law?" All it took was a small call and he soon entered the bathroom. Not as discreetly as he expected, his eyes roamed your body. "Can you help me?"

"Of course" your feet left the floor, giving you a few seconds to assimilate that he had picked you up and carried you back to the room. He hadn't done this before, but you preferred to just enjoy the sensation, locking your arms around his neck.

With a few steps inside the room, he placed you lying on the bed, pulling a rod further to the side, only then did you notice the hanging IV.

Law bent down, reaching your arm level, cleaning it with a small piece of cotton. He looked at the wound on your leg. In silence, he cleaned the area and took some bandages, placing them across the entire length of the wound. The contrast between your warm skin and his cold hands was strangely comfortable. You wished they would last a little longer there.

"I think we can leave these stitches for another day, but I need you to take this medicine. It's an antibiotic, the infection is small, but I'd rather take care of it soon." He pulled the small needle, seeing your face pale. "I'm sorry darling, but it's the best option we have."

Darling.

That word would echo in your mind for a long time. The fear of the needle that was about to come into contact with your skin eased when you saw the care he took with each gesture.

"Just don't look, okay?" He waited for you to close your eyes. "Just a few seconds and that's it. You'll feel sleepy, but that's normal. As soon as you wake up, I'll bring you something to eat."

He got up and started to adjust the pillows on the bed, the ones that were around and under you. His hands rested around your body, his body was on top of yours, even without any immediate contact. It was inevitable not to get lost in his eyes, or see him do the same with yours. You would like to engrave that in your memory, forever.

"Are you comfortable?" his face still had the same tense expression from the first moment he found you in the room.

"I am, I promise." you replied, in a burst of courage, you brought your hand to his face, touching his cheek. "Law, what worries you so much?"

He walked away, sitting at the foot of the bed. You just straightened up so you could look at him. His tattooed hands took off his hat, fingers tangling against the dark strands.

"I can't deal with the fact that I did this. I did this to you. Of all the people that could have been there, I hurt you." he grumbled, turning so he could look at you. "You do not understand."

"Actually, I understand." your answer left him stunned for a few seconds. "But don't blame yourself, you didn't choose this, captain"

"I know, but at the same time..." he huffed, trying to find the right words, which scratched his insides every time he looked at your scourged face. "You understand me, huh? I mean, I don't just see you as a crew member and something tells me you don't just see me as your captain. And knowing that of all the things that could have happened, I hurt you. I promise compensate you for everything."

"About what you said, about what we see in each other." your thought was interrupted by a long yawn. "What should we do about this?" You made to get up, but the IV attached seemed to transmit drowsiness straight to your body. Your eyes were already starting to get heavy.

"That we can deal with this later. You took care of me, now it's my duty to take care of you. For that, you need to rest." His hands reached yours, giving a slight laugh when he saw you fighting with your own eyes, wanting to leave them open. "I promise not to hurt you again or let anyone else hurt you."

Before you fall asleep for good, you can feel his lips on your hand.

#one piece #op imagines #trafalgar law #trafalgardwaterlaw #law x reader #trafalgar d law x reader #law x you #no use of y/n #fiction #reader insert #trafalgar law x reader #requests open #one piece film red #heart pirates

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heartpascal · 1 year

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the crooked kind

▹ — joel miller x platonic!f!reader

▹ — summary: you were sarah’s best friend, and you reunite with joel years after outbreak day.

▹ — a/n: erm. i love him. again not my best writing but i love this concept sm. also yes now i know there is an audience for father figure joel u will be getting so much of him

▹ — warnings: reader had major family troubles, pre-outbreak & post-outbreak, father figure joel, reader is injured, stab wound, referenced raiders/hunters, bill being hostile as usual, frank being a sweetie

masterlist

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

25th September, 2003.

After a long shower at the Miller’s house, you got changed and went downstairs to face them, the same anxiety you always felt when this happened arose in your chest. They were in the kitchen waiting for you, matching frowns on both Sarah and her dad’s face. You smiled tightly at them, grabbing the box of food Sarah held out for you.

“Guys, it’s fine! I can’t stay here forever.” You told them lightly, trying to lift the heavy mood that always fell over the three of you when you had to go back to your own house.

“You could! Couldn’t she, dad?” Sarah asked, turning to her dad and knowing the answer before he even said it.

“‘Course you could, kid. You know you’re a part of the family.” Joel supplied, making it even harder to maintain the certain and confident front you always put on when it was time to leave.

You heard the tires of the truck pulling up outside their house, and the truck door slamming shut as Tommy stepped out, his frown matching Sarah and Joel’s, too. He grabbed the box of food from your hand and put it in the bag on your back, clapping a gentle hand on your shoulder and squeezing as you smiled at him.

“Time to go,” you said, and rolled your eyes with a watery smile as you looked at the sulking expression Sarah wore, “C’mon, Sar. I’ll see you at school tomorrow!”

Nobody responded to your words, and their silence clearly conveyed their thoughts, but what about tonight? You were all aware of how much your family disliked when you stayed at the Miller’s but sometimes, you’d rather face their anger when you returned than any extra time at your own house. Aside from the people who lived there, you also never knew if there would be any water, which is why you always took a shower before leaving the Miller’s. You’d likely be back by this time next week, but it never made leaving easier.

You had once tried to stay at your best friend’s for longer, going on a few weeks, but when you had returned to your house to grab some more clothes, your parents had kicked off. Shouting, screaming, throwing things, the likes. They had yelled in your face that they would call the police on Joel, say he had kidnapped you, was keeping you away from home.

The last thing you wanted was the man who was essentially your own dad going to jail because of you.

It’s better this way, you had decided, because there was no other way. You were lucky your parents let you out of the house at all at this point. Every time you took a bundle of clothes stuffed into the bottom of your school bag you were chancing your luck, but you just couldn’t help it. Staying at Sarah’s gave you the experience of a loving family that you so badly wanted. A warm house, cooked food, and working water didn’t hurt, either.

“Let’s go, kid.” Tommy said, giving you a tight lipped smile. He didn’t want you to go back, either, but neither Miller men were willing to let you walk there. Tommy took you home every time, all of you knowing that Joel was much more likely to snap if your parents showed their faces.

“See you guys later! Happy birthday for tomorrow, Joel!” You waved at Sarah and Joel as you headed out of the front door, throwing a wave behind you and hearing them call out their own goodbyes.

You and Tommy sat in silence for the first few minutes of the drive, before he glanced in your direction, saying, “Listen, if you need anything, give us a call. I’m gonna be out tomorrow but Joel will be about. But hey, you need a bit of extra muscle? I’ll be there.”

You smiled at him, thankful to have such a supportive family who had your back at every turn.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Joel sighed as he gripped the steering wheel in his hand, waiting for his brother to finish up the paperwork he had to sign. When Tommy finally approached the truck, Joel turned to him with a dark look, annoyance clear in the curve of his eyebrows.

“Listen, Joel, I’m sorry!” Tommy told him immediately, reluctantly pulling his seatbelt over his chest and holding his hands up as if he was surrendering. “That fucker said her name and I just snapped, man.”

Tommy must have seen the way Joel’s face dropped, because he felt anxiety warm up in his chest as Joel said your name, his expression telling them both that something was very wrong. He remembered the crease to Sarah’s eyebrows when he had finally gotten home, the way she’d told him that you hadn’t been in school, and she felt like something was off.

“She wasn’t at school today.” said Joel, his eyes almost unfocused as all the possibilities for the why flashed in his mind, he completely missed the way Tommy’s jaw set.

The sound of guns going off in the police station sent both of their heads whirling around in alarm, with Tommy reaching back for the box that was kept under the driver’s seat. “What the…” he mumbled, eyes flashing with the fire that had started across the road. It was when they started hearing the helicopters and dozens of military and coppers swarming the street that the two Miller’s realised something was very wrong. “Shit, Sarah!”

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

23rd May, 2013.

Your arm was throbbing with pain, and you were sure something was fractured at the least. Not to mention the warm red blood that was dripping down from your shoulder, basically the only thing providing you with any heat in the all-encompassing cold. Or maybe all the blood leaving you was what was making you feel so cold. You weren’t sure.

It was the first time in a while that you had left your QZ, and you were ambitious, aiming to travel all the way to the Boston QZ with as little trouble as you could manage. Of course, you hadn’t counted on the people, the raiders and hunters who tried to kill you to steal all the supplies you didn’t have. You were lucky to make it out alive, really. You hadn’t felt very lucky for a long time.

It had been at least thirteen hours since you were attacked, and you knew you wouldn’t make it much further. Already, you were feeling lightheaded, woozy, like the ground was reaching up for you, but you powered on, seeing the glint of a metal fence up ahead.

The wiring at the top told you that it was electric, which you wouldn’t have been worried about if the buzzing didn’t echo in your ears, meaning it actually had electricity.

You pushed lightly against where there was a gate, a keypad there to unlock it. These days, you wouldn’t be able to bet on it being a simple 1, 2, 3, 4. Clearly, this was somebody’s home, and they didn’t take lightly to intruders. Your head dropped against the metal, the metal warm from the sun, and you were glad that only the barbed wire at the top was electric.

Your luck clearly hadn't lasted very long, as you heard the sounds of two guns clicking, the safety turning off.

“Who are you?” A man’s gruff voice asked, and you moved your head from the fence to look at the man stood at the front, “What do you want?” His striking blue eyes tore through you, looking for any sign of a threat, but you didn’t pose much of one in your current state.

“Jesus, Bill, let the girl in, she’s gonna die out there!” A friendlier voice called out, approaching the two men already stood in front of you.

“Or, she could kill us in here.” Bill said, eyes not moving from where you stood, narrowing as you put your hands up in a motion of surrendering.

Your eyes fluttered for a second, and you nodded at the man, understanding of his caution. “I—I’m just looking to get to the QZ. Boston.” You spoke, voice dry and cracking, having only been used when you had yelled out at the people who had attacked you, and that was hours ago. You were dehydrated, tired, and hurt. “Could you point me in the direction?”

“She’s not gonna make it that far.” A woman, who you hadn't noticed approaching, said, eyebrows raised as she looked from the other newcomer to Bill. A part of you knew she was right, knew that you probably wouldn’t make it another fifty steps of the way, but god, you’d come this far, and you really didn’t want to die.

“Bill.” The man prompted, eyebrows raised as he gestured toward the gate. “Just let her in, you can always… shoot her if she tries anything.”

“And I will.” Bill threatened, glaring at you even as you nodded in agreement.

“I’m not infected,” You supplied, because it was the best you could do, “Got a nasty stab wound, little while ago.”

Bill grumbled, sending the man who was trying to help you back into the town for something, and he continued his annoyed mumbling even as he opened the gate, tapping in a code and holding his gun up to your head as you took a step forward. You stilled, eyes following him as he approached, gun still raised, and held a tester to your neck, only huffing as it flashed green.

“Come on in, honey.” The kind man said, approaching your side and helping you stumble your way into their safe haven. You swayed, even with his help, and he frowned at you.

“You sure about this, Bill?” asked the other man, who hadnt spoken before now. You hadn’t really taken much notice of him, too focused on the people speaking to you in hopes that the world might show you a bit of kindness.

“Joel?” You croaked out, eyes going wide and your legs becoming numb as you stared at the man in shock. The guns immediately rose back up to your face, and they glared at you suspiciously, with the man who had been helping you stepping aside with one look from Bill, even if it was with some reluctance. “Joel— It’s you, I can’t believe it’s really you.”

They all stared at you, none of them daring to speak for a few moments. The woman stared at Joel, trying to communicate with him through eye contact alone.

“She—she fixed it. Didn’t she?” You said numbly, feeling like you were going to pass out, but unable to take your eyes off of the cracked watch that sat on his wrist. Sarah had told you her plan for his birthday, even if you’d never gotten to see it in action, but it was broken again.

Recognition seemed to seep into Joel’s eyes, and his gun lowered slightly. He said your name like a question, like your face was an answer he couldn’t work out.

In a single moment, his gun was dropped to his side, and he surged forward, pulling you into his arms. You held onto him just as tightly, or as tightly as you could manage with your fucked up arm, and blinked away tears as you squeezed your hands together behind his back.

His hand held the back of your head, keeping you close to him as he let out a breath. “Fuck.” He said, the words watery with tears you were sure he refused to let out. “I was sure you were dead. The houses on your street were on fire, I—…” He trailed off, pulling away to hold your face in his rough hands.

You forgot all your pain for a moment, eyes full of tears from something else, something like relief, “I got away, my—my dad was arrested and my mom went to get him. When I got to yours, you were all gone.”

He swallowed guiltily, eyes looking over your grown face. You looked so different, so… you looked like an adult.

You looked around at the town, wondering which one belonged to the Miller’s, “Where— where’s Sarah?”

Joel flinched, hands squeezing your cheeks once more, before he shook his head, looking away before he pulled you back to him once again.

“Oh.” You gulped, swallowing down the grief you had already felt for the Miller’s that rose back up, trying to sweep you away.

“Can somebody explain what the fuck is going on?” The woman asked, the first of Joel’s group to speak up since your unexpected reunion. She looked between you and Joel and the two men, as if one of you could answer all of her questions.

You looked up at Joel, and he felt like he was going to be sick, the memories of you doing that before the world had gone to shit hitting him like a brick to the face. He remembered the way you would smile at him, a grin that matched Sarah’s, like the two of you were born as sisters, and not just chosen sisters.

“I…” You began, stepping out of Joel’s arms to face the group and explain, but that wave of nausea hit you, the adrenaline from finding Joel seeping from your body, leaving you feeling like you were about to step into death’s doorway. “Okay, um, let me—”

Joel stepped forward, and you fell into him, with him picking you up like he used to do with you and Sarah before. It hit him then, with how you were heavier, and how he hadn’t done this for anyone in years, but he still managed.

“I—I’ll explain, after.” He said, the words echoing in your ears as your eyes fluttered, the last of your long-winded fight or flight leaving you as you rested in your dad’s arms, feeling like perhaps you’d wake up in the bed beside Sarah’s, and everything that had happened in the past decade would have been nothing but a dream. “Frank?” He prompted, letting the man lead him to wherever he thought would be best suitable to patch you up.

That sickening feeling crept up on Joel again, the situation being horribly reminiscent of outbreak day, almost like your weight was Sarah’s own, and his shaking fingers being from fear and not shock. He hated it, that the feeling of regaining a daughter was so similar to the loss of his other.

He felt a hand on his shoulder as he followed Frank, and glanced to his side to see Tess, and allowed himself to feel the slightest comfort at the nod she gave him.

Your eyes blinked open, and you looked at him through bleary eyes, “I’ve missed you, dad.” You told him, not missing the heartache in his eyes as he looked at you, but he smiled. It was thin, watery, and barely there, but you saw it.

“Kid, you got no idea.” He sighed out, focusing on getting you fixed up before he could start crying.

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chaconnehoonie · 3 months

Text

Hide the Scissors- S. JY

✄ Jake X Fem! Reader

Synopsis: Your boyfriend is a sucker for compliments, which you take for advantage.

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: pussy muncher Jake, reader is wearing a skirt, reader calls him Jake and Jae.

Smut warnings: Oral(f), dry humping, nasty make out sesh, Jake is pussy drunk, hair pulling, no specific dom/sub, I apologize for anything I forgot.

A/N: I’ve had this started since the beginning of the week when he did this live,, I just took long to post it. Enjoy!

This is fiction and the scenarios are completely fake and from my brain, none of the characters are like this in real life, MDNI!

“I know you like it long, babe, but it’s poking me in the eyes. You have to cut it for me.”

Your heart feels as if it’s been stabbed and shattered as your boyfriend sits with his back to your stomach, locking eyes with you through the bathroom mirror while he sits on a stool. You drape a towel over his shoulders with a pout on your lips, obviously unhappy with the idea of cutting his hair. “You’re breaking my heart, Jae.”

He only laughs at your dramatic attempts to change his mind. Realizing you have failed, you give in and finally open the bathroom cabinet to grab the styling scissors with a deep exhaled sigh. “I’m just saying, you look so good with longer hair.” You notice Jake pause for a moment as a light blush makes its way to his cheeks while the tips of his ears burn red.

“You think so?” His eyes meet yours in the mirror and you flash him a sweet smile. “Of course, handsome.” You don’t break eye contact as you lean down to kiss the spot right under his ear, trailing more kisses down the expanse of his neck. “You look so sexy.” You whisper in his ear and watch how he immediately stiffens.

“Love how it suits your features so well.” He blushes deeper at this compliment. “Love the way it shapes your face.” You peck him on his cheek. “Love the way it’s so full and fluffy.” You run a hand through the long hair on the back of his head. “But you know what I love about it the most?” You meet his gaze in the mirror again and he lets out a hum in response.

“Love the way you whine when I pull on it.” With that, your grip on his hair pulls his head to fall back, with him looking up at you for a second before you’re leaning down to kiss him. He always expresses his love for kissing upside down, his inner fanboy showing as he would rant about it reminding him of Spider-Man.

You tug at his hair harder and his lips fall open as he whines into your own. You take this chance to slip your tongue into his mouth and he eagerly reciprocates the action. He loves how the odd angle lets him feel the way the mix of saliva easily slides down his throat as the kiss grows sloppier. You pull back from his lips with an obnoxious smack and smile at the way his eyes are already low and dazed.

He swallows harshly as he lets his gaze fall back to your mouth. You can’t help but peck his pillowy lips again. “Fine.” He whispers almost shyly. “Fine?” You repeat with a sly smile. “Yeah…fine. You don’t have to cut my hair.” He blinks at you with big puppy eyes, almost begging for your reaction.

“Why the sudden change of heart, baby?” You quirk a brow in question as he tugs the towel off of his shoulders and stands to his feet, turning to face you. “I like when you pull on it too.” He grabs your waist and harshly presses his lips against yours again, both of his hands sliding down to grab handfuls of your butt.

You gasp when he squeezes harshly, and he slips his tongue into your mouth the way you had done it earlier. He kneads the fat of your butt, groping and massaging anything he could fit into his hands. You instinctively push yourself further into him and you don’t miss the way he’s rock hard against you.

“Jump.” He commands against your parted lips, tapping the back of your thighs. You hop into his arms, wrapping your own around his neck to play with his hair. He turns around again, this time placing you onto the large bathroom sink with your back pressed against the mirror.

You feel him tug your lower half towards himself, standing between your open legs. He leans back down to kiss you again, this time with one hand around the back of your neck and the other softly rubbing your thigh. “Want you to show me how much you love my hair.” He grinds himself into your core and grunts into your neck after he speaks, then bites his bottom lip harshly to keep himself from whining into your ear.

The feeling of his hot break against your neck has you pulling him closer by the hips, but he’s quick to pull your hands away. He takes them both in one of his larger hands, pinning them to the mirror above your head. His other hand is pushing your skirt further up your waist and he smiles at the wet spot on your panties.

You grind against nothing, pushing your hips forward with a whine when he takes too long staring between your legs. “God, you’re so fucking needy.” He lightly slaps your core, smiling at the wet sound that follows. “You’re one to talk.” You spit out, almost annoyed that he’s taking so long to touch you.

He doesn’t find any purpose in arguing back, instead being proud of not only himself but of you also. “Of course.” He lowers himself to have his salivating mouth just above where you need him. “Who wouldn’t be needy for this cunt.” He almost cuts himself off, too eager to taste you as he licks you over your panties, tongue starting at your entrance but stopping just before your clit.

You whine and push your hips forward again, this time yelping as he suddenly attaches his lips to your soaking underwear, sucking your slick out of the wet fabric. “Please, Jake. I need more.” Your hands are still being painfully restricted against the mirror, Jake’s own hand not budging no matter how much yours thrash in his hold.

He finally rips your panties off and you gasp at the sound of them tearing. “Jake!” You look at him with wide eyes and he grabs your cheeks, squeezing them so your lips become pouty. “Do you want it or not?” He’s speaking close enough to you that you feel his hot breath on your inner thighs, but not close enough for it to please you. “Yes! Yes, stop being a brat.” You nod your head aggressively, pushing your hips against his face again.

Your insult ignites something inside of him, and he’s suddenly leaning back down to harshly suck on your clit. “A-ah!” You yelp in surprise, thrashing your arms against the mirror in frustration. He finally lets go of your hands, leading them to his hair as he’s pulling off of your clit to speak in your ear.

“Show me how much you like my hair, baby.” He dives into your core again, slurping loudly at the dripping arousal. You throw your head back against the mirror in a loud moan, harshly gripping at Jake’s hair which elicits a whine escape his throat. He looks up at you with low, fucked out eyes and he moans as if he’s the one being pleasured.

His tongue laps at your entrance a few times before licking a long stripe up your slit, taking your clit between his lips and sucking gently, unlike the first time. “Fuck, Jae. T-tongue.” Without hesitating, he sticks his tongue out at your stuttered command and you grab handfuls of his thick hair, keeping his head stable as you grind yourself onto his wet muscle.

The bathroom walls send echos of each moan, slurp, and whine the both of you let out, and you wondered if you were loud enough for the neighbors to hear. You want the neighbors to hear, and you want them to know who you’re whining and crying for, loving the idea of showing off how good your boyfriend treats you.

“Baby-baby, holy shit.” You’re borderline screaming at this point as Jake watches you with big, glossy puppy eyes, and the sight of him is enough to bring you to your orgasm. “Fuckfuckfuck, Jake!” You inhale deeply before letting out the most loud and obnoxious pornographic-sounding moan while your orgasm sends tingles throughout your whole body, strongly throbbing in your core.

You keep a tight grip on your boyfriend’s hair, pulling it harshly as you continue to rock your hips against his tongue, and he whimpers at the feeling of you continuing to use him for your own pleasure. He loves letting you take control, like you’re almost ignoring the fact that he’s another human being but only using him as a toy to get yourself off with.

His hair is finally released from your fingers when they come to support you on the sides of your body, keeping your trembling body upright on the bathroom sink. He goes back to standing normal for a second, then leans forward to kiss you with his mouth covered in your juices. He places one hand over yours on the counter, stroking your skin as a sign of comfort, while the other hand holds your face and pulls your forehead to touch his.

“God, look at you.” He softly nudges your face to turn around and take a look at yourself in the mirror behind you. Your eyes are hazy and your hair is slightly tangled in the back, and you hadn’t even realized you were drooling until you seen the streak from your lip sliding down your chin. Your eyes travel to look at Jake, heart melting when you see just how adorable he appears. “God, look at you, Jae.”

The whole lower half of his face, including his cheeks, are covered in arousal, shining especially bright on the tip of his prominent nose. His cheeks and nose are also flushed with a deep blush, maybe from the sexual encounter, maybe from his lack of breathing during said encounter. His own hair is messier than yours, with his bangs falling Infront of his eyes, frizzy strands standing up everywhere, and the long hairs in the back look as if he woke up from a nap or was electrocuted.

“Holy-“ Jake cuts himself off as he starts giggling cutely, leaning against the counter and trying his best to fix his appearance. You join in on giggling with him and fixing yourself up, admiring the way he switches from a pussy-starved fiend to a sweet mess of toothy smiles and giggles. Your boyfriend may be secretly desperate for a mouth full of woman, but that’s just how you like it. He licks his palm and tries his best to slick down his disheveled hair, but your fingers had done too much damage and he now resembles a raccoon that had been struck by lightning.

“Guess you really do love my hair, huh?”

#enhypen smut #enhypen x female reader #jake sim smut #sim jaeyun smut #enhypen drabbles

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ghoulfriends-and-tin-cans · 2 months

Text

Howdy Partner - Part 1

I...yep. This fic finally broke out of the cage in my brain and found its way into the world. Careful. It bites.

If you'd like to be added to my taglist, please let me know!

Cross-posted to AO3 here.

~*~

Pre-War!Cooper Howard (Fallout Show) x fem!Reader

[A/N: This is just fluff with some suggestive language, because as sinfully hot as he is as a Ghoul, he looks like an absolute cinnamon roll as an actor.]

Warnings: Fluff, mild angst, mutual pining, idiots in love, they both think their feelings are unrequited, Cooper is already divorced, flirty friends to lovers, they both wanna kiss so bad, drinking but not heavy, mentions of alcohol, they're not tipsy but they have had a couple of glasses of champagne.

~*~

"Cut! That's a wrap for this week," the director called, and everyone on set began to disperse. Beginning to corral the various props so they could be stored until Monday, I breathed a sigh of relief that the week was over. Halfway through winding up one of the ropes, someone cleared their throat behind me.

"Pardon me, ma'am. Any chance an ole cowboy could int'rest you in a celebratory drink?" The faux western accent drew a smile across my lips before I could school my expression. When I turned, Cooper Howard stood in full costume with his cowboy hat held respectfully over his chest. Always such a gentleman.

"Surely there's some gorgeous starlet who you'd rather be drinking with, Mr. Howard," I teased as I laid the looped rope onto its hook. Clasping my hands behind my back, I blinked innocently up at the man who'd been my friend for years and had quickly carved a spot for himself in my heart.

"Now, why would I want to take another woman out on the town when the most gorgeous one in all of Hollywood is standin' right in front of me?" He murmured, and despite the pang it sent through my heart, I gave a sly smile as I grasped his arm.

"One of these days, Coop, you'll regret being so flirty with me," I said as he plunked his hat on top of my head instead of his own. I couldn't imagine it looked as good on me as it did on him.

"Oh? And why's that?"

"Because, one of these days, the woman destined to be your next wife might overhear you, think you're taken, and give up before she's even met you." We walked toward his trailer, dodging busy workers as we talked. "Or worse...I might actually think you mean those sweet little things you say to me."

Keeping my head forward as we walked, I caught him looking at me out of the corner of my eye, his expression inscrutable.

"Wouldn't that just be a shame," he muttered, but his tone contradicted his statement entirely. A large grin stretched Cooper's lips as we stepped inside his trailer. I knew the drill by now. We left the door open, and I took a seat as he ducked behind a privacy screen at the other end. His accent fell away as he changed out of his costume. "That hat's yours now, by the way."

For a moment, all I could hear was the gentle sound of cloth as I tried to force my tongue to work.

"What?"

"They had about ten of those hats for this movie, and I snagged a couple. One for me, and one for you. That one's yours," he called, and butterflies swarmed in my stomach. "Assuming you want an old actor's hand-me-down, of course. You could always just leave it in my trailer today when we go for drinks and the costume people will find it. I just remember you saying you liked the way the one from this particular movie looked, so I figured..."

He trailed off as he walked out from behind the privacy screen in a white button-down shirt and some dark brown slacks. My breath hitched in my throat, but I shook my head quietly.

"No, I do love it. I'm not leaving it here," I said as I got to my feet. "Thank you, Cooper."

Pink dusted his cheeks, and I couldn't help but wonder how I got this lucky. He didn't feel the same as I did, but it was enough that he considered me one of his close friends. Or, at least, that's what I told myself on those lonely evenings when I wanted nothing more than to fall asleep in his arms.

I'd been lost in thought for a moment, snapping back to reality when he waved a hand in front of my eyes.

"You in there?" He asked, a mix of amusement and concern coloring his features as I blinked up at him. "You looked like you were a thousand miles away."

"Only about fifteen," I muttered, and before he could ask what I meant, I plastered what I hoped was an enthusiastic smile on my lips. "Well, what are we waiting for? You wanted a celebratory drink, so let's go get it, shall we?"

Cooper had known me for too long to be fooled by that. Like always, I could see his jaw clench for a second as he tucked the information away in the back of his mind for later, then smiled back at me.

"Lead on, ma'am." His faux western accent was back, and he gave me a little wink as I slipped past him out of his trailer.

I'd expected to find myself in a bar with him, but Coop had different plans. He'd driven me to his place - a much smaller house than the one he'd previously shared with his daughter and his ex-wife. He'd downsized after the divorce, choosing a more rustic place that was closer to nature than his cushy almost-mansion had been. Modern conveniences were still present, but he was no longer surrounded by the stifling side of city life.

Kicking our shoes off and wandering out onto the upstairs balcony, we raised our champagne flutes and toasted the success of the new movie. I tried not to watch the bob of his Adam's apple too closely as he swallowed.

Looking out at the dark expanse of the night and the bright lights of the city several hours later, we'd barely finished more than a couple of glasses each. It was so incredibly easy with him. We'd talked the whole evening away, focusing on everything and nothing, paying no mind to the fact that the world kept spinning without us.

Eventually, a cold breeze whirled through the air, and we retreated inside. Cooper grabbed an oversized blanket and we cuddled up together in his living room in front of the fireplace. Setting the hat he'd given me on the coffee table, he wrapped his arms around me and let me rest my head on his chest.

This wasn't the first time we'd curled up like this, but it felt more weighted this time. His chin touched the top of my head just as I noted how fast his heart was beating.

Adrenaline. That's all it was. We'd both been startled by how quickly the temperature had dropped. There was no way it could be anything else.

"It looks better on you," he murmured against the top of my head, and my own heart thudded faster in my chest. "The hat, I mean."

A huff of laughter escaped me.

"Somehow, I think your fans might disagree, Mr. Howard. Hell, even I disagree," I admitted as I toyed with one of the buttons on his shirt.

"That's too bad. All of you are wrong. You look so damn good in it," Cooper said as one of his hands skimmed up my back. He sounded more serious than any of his other silly little flirtatious statements ever had - a feat I hadn't thought possible. I could never tell if he was joking when we were alone like this.

"Careful, now. I might end up thinking you're serious–"

"I am," he blurted as his grip around me tightened by a fraction. "I'm serious."

When I lifted my head to look up at him, Cooper was already looking at me; his gaze was soft and vulnerable as he lifted a hand. The backs of his knuckles brushed down the side of my face so gently that the breath was stolen from my lungs.

"Cooper..." I tried to tell him what I was feeling - tried to force all of the words I'd been holding back to the tip of my tongue - but they got stuck somewhere in my throat.

"It's okay," he breathed, his voice was low and rough as he spoke. "You don't have to say anything. I know this probably isn't... I'm divorced, older, and I have a kid. I'm not under any delusions about how undesirable my situation is, but I just wanted to say it once...before I lost my nerve."

I must've fallen asleep. I was dreaming, I had to be.

"I don't expect you to feel the same. You're so beautiful, so kind...you must have men beating down your door for a chance to be with you, and you're stuck here drinking with a washed up old man," he murmured, guilt winding around every word. "When I drive you home in the morning...if it would make you more comfortable, we can forget I ever said anything...blame it on the champagne."

Alarm rocketed through me. I didn't want that. I didn't want to forget. I didn't want to blame it on the alcohol.

Dream or not, I just wanted Cooper.

Leaning upward, I took a chance and pressed my lips against his. They'd always looked soft. I never thought I'd get the chance to find out what they felt like on anything but the back of my hand.

When he kissed me back, I'd never been so glad to be wrong.

Giving in to my desires, I braced one hand on his chest and buried the other in his soft, dark hair. He grabbed the back of my neck, pulling me closer as we drowned in each other.

When we finally broke apart, Cooper nuzzled my nose drawing a breathless, joyful giggle from some dazed part of my mind.

"Stay with me tonight," he whispered, and I nodded my head.

"I did assume I would be when you stated that you'd be driving me home in the morning," I teased, and he gave me a gorgeous smile, his eyes twinkling in the low light.

"Beautiful smart-ass. I meant...stay in my room with me. Not the guest room," he murmured even as his gaze dropped to my lips again. "I promise I'll be good - keep my hands to myself."

"You don't have to." The words whispered against his lips prompted a hungry hum from his throat, but he shook his head.

"I want to wine and dine you first. You deserve that...deserve to be treated like a princess," he said, "that way, when the time comes, and I finally have you all to myself, you'll know how much you mean to me."

A desperate whimper escaped me, and he smirked like the cat that got the canary.

"Now, can you be a good, patient girl for me tonight, sweetheart?"

I agreed, muttering under my breath that he was a damn tease, but my protests were silenced by the look Cooper gave me as he led me to his bedroom. Longing looked good on him.

~*~

Taglist:

@live-logs-and-proper

#ghoulfriends-and-tin-cans fic #Cooper Howard x Reader #Pre-War!Cooper Howard x Reader

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bluebeary-jay · 7 months

Text

Face to face

Din Djarin x f!Mandalorian!Reader

Summary: as riduurs, you and Din can finally show your faces to each other without suffering any consequences. but when the time finally comes, your insecurities and fears of rejection come into play, threatening to ruin this important moment

Tags: just pure tooth-rotting fluff, Din and Reader being insecure, they're sweethearts though and so in love, Din being a supporting husband <3, mandalorian customs are probably half-accurate but i did my best in research 😌

Word count: 3K

A/N: haiii guys!! long time no see 🤗 i had this idea ever since i watched s2 of the mandalorian almost a month ago and i'm finally done! thank you to all who stick around and i really hope you'll enjoy my first attempt at writing din (feel free to let me know what you think 🤭)! i love all of you darlings 🥰 and as always, happy reading!! 💕

Din Djarin wouldn’t ever admit it to anyone, but he always wanted a family. The memories of his parents were hazy, but he remembered how much they loved each other and in the depths of his soul longed for a connection like this someday. Being the bounty hunter didn’t give many opportunities to look for a relationship, however, and with time he abandoned the hope for a place and people he could call home. He convinced himself that he was content being on his own.

But then the Child came along, and with it everything has changed. This little wrinkly womp rat became the most precious being in his life and Din was ready to die to protect Grogu – but he never expected that he’d also meet his future riduur because of the kid.

He did. You, a fellow Mandalorian Din spoke to only a couple of times in the hideout on Nevarro, decided to help him on his quest, and from this moment on he didn’t stand a chance. You were everything Djarin admired – brave, compassionate, skillful and kind – and though you both respected the Way of the Mandalore and never removed your helmets in each other’s presence, he knew in his soul that you were beautiful as well.

It was a long road to come to terms with what he felt for you and gather the courage to actually let you know it. But it was all worth it just for this moment when you exchanged your vows and he officially became yours, and you his. Now you were his riduur and he finally had every right to admire and cherish you like you deserved.

And most importantly, he could finally see you. The pair of you talked about this moment a lot during the nights spent on the Crest, tangling your fingers together when the ship was flooded with pitch-black darkness. Din used to whisper to you of his dreams, how he longed to run his eyes over your uncovered body, taking his time to commit to memory every little detail of your physique and expressions. You, with a giddy and wistful tone, told him how impatient you were to at last find out how his lips would feel on yours and what color his eyes were. Even when you both knew you were going to marry, you didn’t rush things and never removed your helmets until your union became official.

But you did see each other’s faces, once, though not in a conventional way. Din remembered it clearly as a day, though his eyes – as well as yours – were covered by a piece of a material the entire time. Both of you were desperate for each other that night, the tension hanging above your heads straining the resolve about waiting. And then came the moment when you didn’t fight it anymore. Instead, you both sat down on Din’s cot and without your sense of sight spent the next hour talking and trailing fingertips down each other’s faces.

Din reminisced about this moment a lot of times. He tried to remember the shape of your features to create a full picture of you in his mind while he laid alone in his bed, longing for your vicinity. Even if your bodies were separated only by the layers of beskar, it was still too far for him.

He didn’t have to wait any longer now.

It was the day of your wedding and Din Djarin never felt happier than in that moment when you recited Mandalorian vows and he got to touch your bare hand again, not covered by a glove, to put a custom-made ring on your finger. It wasn’t a necessary but he wanted to make this day memorable and meaningful for you. A few tears of joy were shed, but his face was still concealed by the helmet, allowing his emotions to take hold of him.

He hadn’t let go of your hand since the small ceremony (if one could even call it that) ended, and you squeezed his palm every few steps as you walked toward a house that was going to be your home for the next couple of days. The Child was being taken care of by other Mandalorians so that you could be completely alone for this special moment.

You were buzzing with excited energy for the whole week prior to your wedding, but now Din could sense his partner’s nervousness. He wasn’t exactly surprised – after all, it has been years for both of you since anyone saw you without your helmet on. But with every moment that you neared the bedroom, you seemed more insular, more withdrawn and hesitant, and Din started to really worry.

“Are you okay, cyar’ika (darling)?”

You slowed down, not answering right away, which caused Din to furrow his brows with confusion. Maybe you didn’t want to do it after all? Maybe it was too sudden for you? Or maybe he came off as too eager?

“Cyar’ika,” he repeated softly, wanting to put you at ease – but it didn’t seem to meet the target. “If you’re not ready…”

“No. No, I’m ready. I just…”

You trailed off. Din wordlessly guided you to the edge of the bed, cradling your hands in his – one gloved one and one not. The light of the setting sun flowed in through the small window and reflected off the hard beskar you both wore, bathing your figure in a beautiful golden light.

He was already so in love with you. What could possibly be the cause of your hesitation?

“I’m just nervous,” you murmured at last with your head bowed, looking at your joined hands. “I don’t want you to be disappointed.”

“Disappointed?” the Mandalorian repeated before he could think, and shook his head slightly. “What are you… What are you talking about? Why would I ever be?”

You lifted your gaze, and though Din couldn’t see your eyes, he could almost feel the weight of your fears on his own shoulders. The modulator in your helmet was hiding any trace of it, but he knew you long enough to recognize the tiniest shift in your body language.

“Ner kar’ta (my heart). I could never be disappointed with you.” He laced his fingers with yours, once again admiring how perfectly they fit together, and lifted them to his chest. “You own my heart and soul now, and nothing will change that.”

He hoped to soothe your nerves, but you were still silent. It wasn’t at all what Mando was expecting from this evening and he was at a loss for what to do to fix it.

“Would it help if I showed you my face first?” he asked after some time, and your head snapped up.

“No.” Even with the modulator, your voice clearly sounded broken and regretful, and it was wounding Din more than anything else could. “We were supposed to do it together.”

“We can,” he assured quietly, swiping his thumb over your knuckles. “But the most important thing to me… is for you to feel comfortable during it. If you want to wait–”

“I don’t.” You untangled your hands from his hold and instead brought them to his chest, placing them on the beskar breastplate. He couldn’t wait to take it off and feel your touch on his skin. “If I wasn’t sure, I wouldn’t marry you and make you my riduur.”

You leaned forward and lightly bonked your helmets together, a sweet gesture Din loved since the first time you did it.

“Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum or’atu an mayen. (I love you more than anything.) More than life itself.”

“I know,” he answered simply and delicately brought your hands to the edges of his helmet. It was obvious what he was offering you. “That’s why I’m willing to do it for you.”

You were still, not daring to move, and Din nodded slightly to show you that he’s certain of his decision. His heart was beating heavily in his chest, though, and he could feel sweat forming on the back of his neck.

Showing your face to others was one of the worst crimes in Mandalorian culture, but doing it with your riduur was the highest honor that not everyone was fortunate enough to experience. But Din Djarin was among the lucky ones. Even though it was not in a way he always imagined, he didn’t care as long as you were happy.

You gripped the edges of his helmet tighter and a high hiss sounded, a telltale sign that the metal piece was ready to be removed. And slowly – so very slowly – you did. Din felt a flow of cooler air on his hot skin: first his chin, then his cheeks, finally his forehead…

And lastly, he inhaled shakily before lifting his head to look into the void of your visor.

A second passed by. Then two. Then ten, though Din felt like it must’ve been a full minute now. And still you didn’t move, just watched him silently, motionless as a statue.

The Mandalorian swallowed with difficulty, starting to feel very self-conscious. The crisp air cooled the sweat gathering on the nape of his neck and he had to use all his self-control not to fiddle his fingers nervously. He felt so naked and exposed under your gaze, though he absolutely shouldn’t – you were his riduur and there was no reason to feel ashamed or insecure with you. But he couldn’t help worrying: what if he wasn’t what you expected? What if you didn’t find him attractive at all?

Then a movement of your hands drew his attention and he watched, transfixed, as you slowly started to take off your glove, tugging one finger off at a time. Once your hand was freed from the confines of the protective material, you flexed your fingers before lifting both of your palms to his face.

Even though Din was acutely aware of your every move, he still somehow flinched in surprise at your touch, causing you to freeze and search his eyes with the air of concern around you. He quickly gave you a small nod, silently begging you to proceed, and, thankfully, you did. Your fingertips traced his cheeks, so delicately it almost tickled, brushing down the path to his stubble, and then back up to the arch of his nose and eyebrows. Djarin’s eyelids fluttered closed and he let out a shaky breath, giving in to the most amazing sensation that your touch was.

“I knew you had to be the most beautiful being in the galaxy,” you whispered from under your helmet with a voice filled with a plethora of raw emotions. Din regretted not being able to see your face at that moment, but if it would help you feel more comfortable in such a memorable and important situation, he was ready to do anything for you.

“I’m sure you’re a million times more radiant, cyar’ika,” he said back. His voice was weirdly weak and raspy, sounding strangely to him – probably because he knew there was another person hearing him without his helmet on. “Even if I don’t see your face, mesh’la (beautiful), today or ever… The love I have for you will never change or waver. That I promise.”

“It won’t exactly be fair to the Creed if I don’t remove my helmet in front of my husband,” you answered, half-teasing, but Din knew there was a real worry behind your words.

“You know very well there’s nothing said about it in the Creed.” He opened his eyes, offering you a small smile. “And I don’t remember our vows mentioning it, either.”

You clicked your tongue with exasperation, but Din also saw your shoulders relaxing, a sign that some of your nerves ebbed away.

“Gev bic (stop it),” you laughed, letting your hand fall down – but before it could happen, Din caught your wrist and lifted it back to his face. He slowly kissed the inside of your palm, down to the veins disappearing under your sleeve, his eyes fixated on your visor the entire time. His smile grew slightly when he felt a shiver run through you.

“I love you, ner kar’ta,” he whispered. “Even if you’re a half-Hutt under your armor.”

“Don’t push it.”

You let go of his hand and Din’s face fell, fearing that he really went too far. He reached for you but stopped when you straightened up and took a deep breath, your hands going to the last thing that separated you from him – your helmet.

He held his breath and his heart beat erratically as he watched you. He tried not to blink, not wanting to miss the moment when he finally got to see your face. Just the fact that you were willing to do this meant so much to him, but…

Slowly, you took your helmet off and placed it down on the mattress right next to his. Then, a pair of irises gazed into the depths of Din Djarin’s heart.

…you were wrong.

Oh, how wrong you were.

There was no mistaking it that you were by far the most breathtaking sight the Mandalorian had ever laid his eyes on.

The Maker must’ve been overly generous, or maybe favored you, for looking at you… it felt like coming home.

You stared at him with gentle, tentative eyes of the most beautiful color in the world, and Din would’ve gladly lost himself in them. Your lips, so tempting and soft-looking, were parted slightly as you awaited his reaction, but he couldn’t move. He just watched, spellbound, and wondered if this truly is reality and not some cruel, elusive dream.

He hadn’t felt such awe even when he saw Grogu doing his magic for the first time. Hadn’t felt such elation even when a new skin made of beskar was forged just for him. Had never before felt such love in his life.

You were a wonder. A miracle.

“Cyare?”

Your voice sounded almost fearful to your ears, but you couldn’t help it – Din seemed unable to utter even a word, and panic started to flood your veins when you noticed tears gathering in his dark, beautiful eyes. “Din–”

But before you could move away, he slipped off the bed and knelt by your feet. You were so taken aback by this action that you didn’t even react when he cradled both of your hands in his and pressed lingering kisses to your fingers, one after another.

“If I could, I’d marry you all over again,” he rasped, meeting your gaze with so much love and adoration in his brown eyes that it took your breath away. “How did I get so lucky…?”

“I think I’m the lucky one,” you let out a breathless laugh of relief, your pupils darting across the lines and grooves of his face. “You… you’re not just saying that, right?”

“Cyar’ika, look at me.” He gently tilted your chin up, making your eyes meet his. For a second he faltered, parting his lips in wonder at the feeling of your skin under his fingertips, before he swallowed and gazed at you again. “Do you doubt my words?”

No. There was really no questioning his motives. You knew Din was as honest as one could be and there were only your own insecurities at play here. But the longer you looked at him, his expression so full of love and devotion, the less relevant your own doubts were becoming.

You couldn’t think of anything else but him.

“I really want to kiss you,” you whispered instead of answering, and his face broke into a wide, joyous grin. “Can I–?”

The Mandalorian didn’t even wait for you to finish – the second those words left your mouth, he surged forward and pressed his lips to yours forcefully, eliciting a surprised sound out of you, which soon turned into a needy whimper. You didn’t give him a chance to back away and instantly tangled your fingers into his hair, moving clumsily to be closer to him.

But when you attempted to climb onto his lap, your breast plates collided with a metallic clank, forcing the pair of you to put some space between you. Din huffed with frustration, while you laughed and cupped his face in your hands.

“You’re quite impatient for a bounty hunter,” you accused him playfully, nudging your nose with his. You took a deep, calming breath, wanting to surround yourself with the smell of him completely, but your riduur didn’t let you indulge for long.

He moved quickly and, without a warning, kissed you briefly again – and then one more time. It was more like a light peck, and you longed to feel his tongue inside your mouth once more, but at the same time relished in every sensation that his lips brought. Every touch he gave you was something infinitely precious.

“I’ve waited longer than you,” he murmured. His hands were already moving, taking off the beskar on his forearms and shoulders, reaching where he could without removing you from his lap just yet. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me, cyar’ika.”

You smiled widely and looked up from his deft fingers to throw another teasing comment, but in one second you lost your train of thoughts.

Because Din was blushing.

The feared Mandalorian’s face – a face you were finally allowed to see whenever you desired – was sprinkled with redness across his cheeks and ears. And you were the cause of that.

The thought of it almost caused your eyes to water.

“What are you looking at, mesh’la?”

Your eyes found him again and you smiled brightly, causing Din’s heart to skip a couple of beats.

You took his stubbly chin in-between your fingers and brought his lips closer, planting a soft kiss there that had the Mandalorian melting. He covered your hand with his, feeling the band on your finger under his own.

A miracle.

“I’m looking at you.”

#din djarin x reader #the mandalorian #din djarin x you #din djarin #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #din djarin fluff #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin fic #this man needs to be PRAISED he needs to be LOVED and CHERISHED !!!!!#imagine having pedro pascal's face and still being insecure 😔 /j

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lunajay33 · 1 month

Text

Taste for Older Men

•⚰️🍂🍑•

Summary: Growing up with you never had much interest in boys your age but when your dads best friends stuck around more everything changed

Pairing: Cowboy Negan x f!reader

Warnings: age gap, evil boyfriend

•Masterlist•

Song Recommendation: White Mustang-Lana Del Rey

Growing up I never understood all my friends having crushes on guys in our class, I mean they were so immature and not even cute so I never had a reason to try things out and explore like so many people my age, because I knew what I liked……and that is older men, I never realized until my dads best friend moved to town and started coming over more and more, I never acted on it because obviously it’s inappropriate but god did I want to

I graduated school and went to college online so I could work on my dads farm to help out and save up some money, it just made everything easier, then I graduate college and Negan lost his farm hand so dad got me to help him out and get my sister to work on our family farm instead

I’ve only been working with Negan for a month and it’s been killing me, every glance, everytime he’d wrap his arms around me to show me the “proper” way to do something, had me wanting more than just a farm hand, I want to feel loved, I tried to get over Negan with a guy from town, he was sweet when we first started dating, the flowers before dates and opening doors and the good mornings texts but in all honesty it always felt like he was just a friend a really close guy friend but I guess this I how it’s suppose to feel right?

But now he’s mean, always calls drunk and when we’re out at gatherings he treats me like a toy to parade around but I don’t know how to leave him and god do I want to so badly

That leads to today Negan was coming over to our house for a barbecue so it’s a perfect chance to doll myself up compared to farming clothes, I finished off my makeup and pulled on a a ivory sundress, I made my way downstairs seeing my mom finishing off some salads as dad was out setting up everything

“Well don’t you look like a fresh flower in spring! Are you all dolled up for Mark?” My heart dropped

“What……what do you mean I’m staying here for supper!”

“Well dad said he ran into Mark today at the garage and invited him over, Negans never met him so why not introduce them it’ll be fun!” I tried to keep a chipper expression but I felt like screaming inside, the door bell rang alerting someone was here

“Could you get that dear I’m still finishing up here”

I walked over to the door relieved to see Negan standing there instead of Mark, I let out a breathe he obviously noticed

“You alright darling?”

“What? Oh yeah I’m finally just…..never mind please come in” I said nervously stepping to the side to clear the door way

“Old man said you’re boyfriends coming around tonight” he said with a hint of displease

“Does that man talk to everyone god” I groan

“What don’t want me meeting the guy who’s got my girl all worried” my heart did a flip at the words ‘my girl’ but I couldn’t think on it too long when a knock came from the door and my mood plummeted

With a shaky hand I open the door and there stood my walking nightmare that fake smile plastered on his smug face

“Hey babe thanks for the invite, had to hear from you old man” he says as he pulled me close by my hip a hint of anger in his voice

“I’m sorry it……it just slipped my mind” my voice wavered as he squeezed my hip, Negan cleared his throat

“Oh mark this is Negan, Negan this is Mark”

“So this is the Negan that always takes up all your time on that damn farm”

“Mark you know it’s my job and I love working there…….please you just got here” I whisper the last part, looking at Negan who had a shocked look on his face, definitely not expecting this to be my boyfriend

We all were sitting out on the back porch with the lowering sun basking us in golden light, a slight breeze in the air making a chill running down my spine, as dad laid the food on the table for everyone

“Here take my plaid you gotta be freezing” Negan said draping his brown and green longsleeve plaid over my shoulders, his cologne surrounding my senses

“I’m right here man” Mark barked from my other side

“Mark he was just being nice it’s fine”

“That’s what you always say”

“And what’s that suppose to mean?”

“Always going on and on about him and brushing me off like I’m some psycho boyfriend when I’m sick of hearing about him”

“Mark……” my dad groans as a warning

Everything seemed to come crashing down and I couldn’t keep it all in anymore

“You’re the one that comes home late stinking of booze and cheap perfume thinking I don’t see the lipstick stains on your shirt collar, or when you make me feel like a piece of meat infront of all you friends I’m sick of it Mark” at my words he shot up in his chair clearly enraged as he towered over me

“Who the hell do you think you’re talking to” the chair behind me screeched back Negan now towering over me too with the angriest look I’ve never seen before

“Get the hell outta here before you regret it” mark was angry but he was also a hell of a coward, especially faced with a big strong man like Negan

He huffed as he stomped down the porch, hearing his truck start up and rush off down the dirt road, I slumped down in my chair completely embarrassed but also that relief that I’ll never have to deal with that ass again

“Please excuse me” I sigh as I get up from the table and head up to my room for a moment of peace, I sat down on my reading ledge by my window going through all the times he mistreated me and how much he ruined my first…..well my first everything

“Hey darlin mind if I sit with ya?” Negan asks from my doorway, I simply nodded hearing him cross my room and sit next to me, I look up at him and feel my lip tremble

“He ruined everything” I finally break down when he holds me close to his chest

“He took my first kiss, felt like nothing, took my virginity even though I didn’t feel anything like that for him, he took my happiness”

“Baby look at me” he says as he leans me back tilting my head up to wipe my tears away

“If I could I’d take all your pain away, replace all those firsts with happy memories but I know one thing……”

“What?”

“You’ll be happy again, even if I gotta kill him to see you smile again I’ll do it because it kills me to see you like this”

“It’s not like I’m sad he’s gone, I’m relieved really but he’s never what I wanted” I say placing my hand ontop of his that was still against my cheek

“And what is it you want darlin?”

“I’ve always wanted you, I know I shouldn’t you’re my dads best friend but all my secrets are coming out today” I pity laugh

“I want you too, when you started working on my farm, you working around the farm and treating my animals like your own, making me feel like I wasn’t some old man out there alone, I want you by my side more than you know”

My world in one day went from hell back to heaven all because of the man I craved the most in this world

Part 2

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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 29 days

Text

It's a bit long - maybe it a two-parter? But reader is in love with Eddie and tries to show him, sending him love notes in his locker but he thinks (hopes) they are from Chrissy so she decides to just give up, thinking he will never see her like that so she distances herself completely and he doesn't understand why - she even changes direction when they are about to run into each other in the corridor - and when he finally manages to confront her she just tells him "You won't ever love me like I love you so I am just trying to move on" and he's like "well, how do you know that, you've never given me a chance to love you, you just bailed when I didn't realize you were the one sending the notes!"

Request by @somethingvicked 💞

Angst, fluff, pining.

💞

For the last two weeks you had a secret. It was something you hadn't told anyone, not even Robin.

The note in your pocket is carefully sealed in an envelope that you are going to try and sneak in Eddie's locker.

In the last few weeks you have been leaving love notes for your long time crush Eddie Munson. You had poured your heart out in the notes, it was cathartic. A way to express your feelings that were bursting to be let out and it was nice to watch the sweet smile on Eddie's face when he read the notes.

They were all signed anonymously and you disguised your handwriting just enough so that Eddie wouldn't notice it was you. To be honest you were trying to build up the courage to confess to him.

Cautiously you look around and there is a rare occurrence where the hallway is pretty much empty so you quickly rush over to Eddie's locker and slip the note in.

Heart hammering you hurry away from the locker and feel nerves swirl in your stomach. This note was different, a lot more detailed and lovey dovey than the others, you couldn't help it. You were head over heels for Eddie and even though the notes were anonymous, it felt cathartic to say how you felt.

When Eddie finds the latest note at lunch time, the whole of Hellfire is gently teasing him. His cheeks are pink but his eyes are full of excitement, and an anxiousness to know who they are from.

"Who's going to send this doofus love notes though really?" Gareth jokes and ducks to miss the pretzel thrown at his head while laughing his head off.

Then Eddie perks up, smiles dreamily and sighs. "Hey maybe they are from Chrissy?" He looks so hopeful and the words immediately crush any thoughts that you had in which he might feel the same.

Chrissy. He wanted it to be Chrissy, of course he did. She was the sweetest and prettiest girl in Hawkins High, there was no way that Eddie was immune to her charms.

It hurt you though. All this time he talked about not conforming and yet he falls for the beauty queen. Not that you could be too mad at him, it's not like anyone could help who they fell for. You wish you could have that power, to erase these feelings you have for Eddie.

The thoughts still make you feel faintly nauseated and you get up suddenly, "Sorry guys, uh headache'' it's all you can do not to run out of the cafeteria while blinking away tears.

Thank god no one saw you crying. Then you'd really have no way to explain yourself.

That night you're laying in bed and listening to the most angsty music you can find, your thoughts racing about what happened today and stomach churning at what it meant.

You knew deep down that Eddie might not feel the same and at least that was confirmed. It was time to stop indulging in dumb fantasies, it felt like the small bit of hope you had clung onto had faded and now you had given up. Eddie was never going to see you as anything more than a friend.

Maybe it was the push you needed to move on? Or at least distance yourself a tiny bit until these feelings faded.

But how long would that take? The thought of not seeing Eddie every day is awful, you don't know what to do and the worry and despair keeps you up all night.

By the morning you feel numb but full of acceptance at what you need to do.

💌

Distancing yourself from Eddie was hard. He was so ingrained in your usual routines, you were so used to seeing him practically every day that there was this ache in your chest that he wasn't around.

It didn't help that Eddie looked at you like a lost puppy and it shook your resolve every time. You missed the guys at Hellfire too, instead of your usual spot at the table you talked to Robin or Nancy, aware of eyes on you when you didn't sit down beside Eddie.

It was a catch-22, you desperately wanted these feelings to go away so things were back to normal but you missed Eddie like crazy, it felt like a piece of you was missing.

When you saw him in the corridor today, you froze and went in the other direction but you didn't miss the look on his face when you did. It was so hurt and it crushed your heart even more.

You couldn't leave things like this, you would have to say something. Eddie must be so confused and you didn't want to hurt him. But how could you explain how you felt about him, that you're the one who sent the notes?

What if finding out how you felt ruined your friendship? What if what you were doing was ending it, honestly your mind was racing a mile a minute.

Shit you haven't sent any notes in over a week, you didn't want Eddie to get his hopes up wishing it was Chrissy only to be disappointed that it was you.

Obviously you and Eddie really need to talk. Eddie must be thinking the same thing because he shows up at your house around an hour later with a determined look in his eyes.

He's angry and you can't blame him. If the situation was reversed you would feel the same. His furious gaze softens as he takes in your tears.

"Why have you been avoiding me?" His tone is gentler than you'd expect and that makes you feel worse. God you've missed him, you've really missed him.

"I'm sorry" you murmured and made your decision to tell Eddie about the notes, hoping that he wouldn't hate you. "Eddie, I-" he speaks before you can get the words out.

"I know it's you sending the notes" oh...oh shit. You're nervous so that makes you babble and grow even more flustered because you don't know how Eddie would react.

"How?" is the last question you ask and he smiles, all dimples. The smile that you love.

"When you started avoiding me after I said I hoped the notes were from Chrissy, the look on your face...I'm not stupid sweetheart, it became pretty obvious" so much for thinking that you had covered up your feelings, you should have realised eddie would figure it out.

He could be annoyingly perceptive. "I know you don't feel the same Eddie, you're panicking now so you're basically word vomiting, "I've been trying to get over these feelings so that's why I've been distant, I'm sorry"

He frowns, "Sweetheart, I don't want you to avoid me" you bite your lip, emotions rushing to the surface. Frustrated you wipe the tears that are building in your eyes.

"I don't know what else to do Eddie! You won't ever love me like I love you so I am just trying to move on, I'm trying to do that so I don't mess up our friendship" you choke on the words and try to stop the tears that are blurring your eyes. he stares at you looking absolutely stunned.

"You love me?" his voice is so small and you swear there's a hopeful edge to it but you must just be imagining it.

"Yeah, I'm the one who's been sending the notes, but you wanted it to be Chrissy and like I said you don't love me like I love you so I need to move on" Eddie groan exasperated and runs his hand through his hair in frustration. It tugs on his unruly curls and he groans, once his hand is free, he's gesturing widely.

"Well how do you know that? You've never given me the chance to love you, you just bailed when I didn't realise you were the one sending the notes" he snaps and you're seriously frustrated.

"Because you wanted it to be Chrissy! And give you a chance to love me? You either love me or you don't Eddie. I can't just sit around on the off chance that you might feel the same way when you obviously don't"

Tears roll down your cheeks and you wipe them away shakily, you're emotionally spent and you just want to have some time for yourself.

Eddie softens and his hands are on your shoulder, soothing and tender. "You're not listening, I want a chance to love you because I am in love with you"

Oh... "You do, you reply hopeful and he nods, keeping his gaze on you. What about Chrissy?" he shakes his head and his hand moves up to caress your cheek, his gaze is soft and full of adoration.

"Just a dumb crush. I'm over her now. What I feel for you...you're all I think about sweetheart, shit I think almost losing you helped give me a uh, knock on the head" you giggle and he ducks his head looking almost shy.

"Can I kiss you?" you nod eagerly and it doesn't take long for his lips to meet yours. Eddie pulls away after a few seconds and looks completely blissed out. It's exactly how you feel. Wow.

"Shit, I am an idiot, could have been doing that for a while now if I wasn't so oblivious" you stifle a smile and he's grinning too, smiling as he kisses you again.

And again. Showing you how much he loves you.

💞💌

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson angst #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #friends to lovers #eddie munson x y/n

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exhaslo · 5 months

Note

Hii... Sorry to bother you.. Could you do bully Miguel x shy reader like Miguel always bully and tease reader, but reader also got bullied in the past by eddie who worse like cigarette burn something like that , but miguel kinda likes reader and have a soft spot for her , let me know what's on your mind , have a nice day ☺ (sorry my English is bad)

Sure! I highly recommend to check out my Puzzle Pieces story whenever you get a chance! This request is pretty similar to how I made that story, but I'll change this up a bit for your request~

Warning: Mentions of abuse, bullying, loneliness, fluff, handsy, touch starved

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

A cold droplet landed so perfectly against your hand as you sat alone on an abandon swing.

The cool wind that blew roughly against your face as you stared at the broken mats below you.

A heart breaking silence that could only remind you that you were alone in this place.

This place, and everywhere.

It had been a long time since you had a moment to enjoy yourself. Lately you've been in a downward slump. Nothing seemed to go right for you or get your spirits up. You just wanted a friend. Someone to help you get out of this lonely slump.

"This isn't a field trip," Miguel spoke as he approached you from behind.

"Isn't as fun as one," You muttered lowly, jumping off the swing.

"Let's get back to what we're supposed to be doing."

You just nodded as you followed Miguel. The reason you were in the middle of an abandon park was actually work related. Miguel was your coworker. Your tall, handsome, bossy and bully of a coworker. He added to your stress by workload and teasing.

"Hey, pay attention." Miguel huffed as he flicked your forehead. You whimpered quietly,

"S-Sorry," You apologized. Miguel sighed once more,

"Do you even remember what we're supposed to be doing here?"

"I-I...I do!" You cried, gripping your bag as you hurried to the grassy field, "I....do...just please....leave me alone for a moment," You whispered as tears threaten to spill.

---------

Miguel watched you hurry off, resisting a chuckle. Lord, you were so adorable and easy to tease. Miguel loved it when your face would turn red from embarrassment. He wanted to see more of you. If only you would come out of your shell.

Miguel loved hearing your voice. Your little squeaks and whines. You were the best coworker he could have ever had. You were made just for him. Miguel just had a hard time showing his affection and it ended up coming out as bullying.

"I'll be over at this section, (Y/N). Let me know when you're done!" Miguel called out.

This was a simple field gathering that Miguel needed done. He wanted to collect some samples of the wild life bugs outside the city so he could return to the lab. While Miguel was the top scientist at Alchemax, you were just one of his measly assistants.

A cute one at that.

Miguel chuckled to himself as he thought of you being grossed out by the bugs. Despite your shyness, Miguel knew that you could never say no to him. Another reason why he was so obsessed with you. Miguel just wished he knew how to get you to loosen up around him some more.

--------

After a while of gathering, you felt exhausted. Miguel had approached you a few times, checking up on you and offering water. It did warm your heart, but the man confused you so much. He always teased you, yet would turn around and treat you so kindly. Miguel was not the average bully.

At least you weren't sure. He did do strange things.

Once the two of you were done, you made you way back to Alchemax. Miguel offered the scenic route, stating that they could use the extra time for themselves.

"So hot. How could you wear long sleeves even in this heat?" Miguel asked with a huff as he fixed his bag. You gripped your sleeves,

"I....rather not say," You whispered.

Miguel noticed your grim expression and cussed mentally. He struck a nerve. Glancing around, Miguel smiled as he saw an ice cream shop ahead and grabbed your wrist, dragging you behind.

"M-Miguel!"

You cheeks grew flustered as Miguel dragged you away. You didn't know where he was taking you until you entered the shop. Confused, you enjoyed the cool breeze of the AC as you stood behind Miguel. It were these moments that confused you.

"What flavor do you want?" Miguel asked. You tilted your head, looking at the flavors,

"Oh," You pointed towards your favorite flavor, "Um...T-Thank you, Miguel."

You smiled softly as Miguel grunted in response. Now that sounded more like the Miguel you knew. As you held your ice cream, Miguel suggested to sit at the shop for a bit before returning. You didn't think too much of it, but this was making up for his behavior from earlier.

"You know...I can recommend a place that makes cooling long sleeve shirts." Miguel muttered. You almost didn't hear him, "If...you don't mind the suggestion, that is."

"I would love that. Thank you-"

"Whoa, is that (Y/N)?"

You felt your heart sink as you heard a familiar voice. Your breathing shuddered as you looked away.

"It is! Holy shit! Long time no see!!"

Miguel felt his eye twitch as he heard an obnoxious voice call out your name so casually and snobby. Glancing down towards you, Miguel furrowed his brows. You were shaking like a leaf and the blood had drained from your face.

"What? Too good to even say hi, (Y/N)?" The man snorted, getting closer. Miguel's lazily glare turned towards the man,

"And if she is?" He scoffed, towering over the man as Miguel stood, "Who do you think you are?"

"Name's Eddie, her ex."

"L-Let's...g-go." You whispered quietly.

Miguel felt your lightest tug against his shirt. You were scared. Now, while Miguel did enjoy bullying and teasing you for affection, it was clear that Eddie had bullied you for fun. That struck a nerve with Miguel.

"Well, Eddie, (Y/N) obviously doesn't want to talk to you. So fuck off," Miguel hissed, wrapping his arm around your waist.

Your eyes widen towards the warm of Miguel's touch as he pulled you out of the store. This level of comfort felt so right. So nice. This was what you felt like you were missing. Just a small touch. You had dropped your ice cream, but who cares.

This felt nice.

Once you were a good distance away, Miguel had you face him. Tears stained your cheeks as you quickly pulled Miguel into a deep hug. You really didn't want to let go of him. Not just yet. You felt so touch starved that you just needed this.

"You're okay," Miguel hummed.

This felt really nice. Having your arms wrapped around him. Miguel would love for this to be a constant thing. Resting his hand against your head, Miguel waited until you were ready. This was a side that he hadn't seen before...a side that he wasn't sure he wanted to see.

"(Y/N)...Sorry if I ever, get on your nerves." Miguel apologized, feeling as if it were the right thing to do.

You sniffled, looking up at him, "Y-You're not...as bad as he was." You whimpered. Miguel enjoyed the little squeeze you gave him, "T-Thank you...f-for standing up for me."

"Of course," Miguel wiped your tears away, frowning as you let go, "I tease you a lot because I like you. Now, I know that isn't an excuse, but I'm here if you need to talk."

"T-Thank you," You smiled and rubbed your arm slightly, "Um, C-Can I add...a stress hug to that offer?"

"Suuure?" Miguel was confused, but accepted none the less.

---------

Oh, how Miguel loved these stress hugs. Ever since that day, you would just pop into his lab when no one was around and hug Miguel tightly. Those hugs would last anywhere between a few seconds to a few minutes. It was hard for him not to go back to teasing you.

"Mig?" You whispered, poking your head into his lab.

There you were once again. Miguel motioned you in and hid his smile as you quickly rushed to hug him. Your arms wrapping around his waist as you gave him a squeeze. Miguel returned the gesture, always wondering how far you would let him touch you.

"Your 'stress hugs' have been getting lighter. Sure this isn't a reason to embrace me?" Miguel said with a low chuckle.

"N-No!" You huffed.

Ah, the cute pout you did. Miguel smirked as his hands roamed your back, feeling your body shake and move with his touch. You were enjoying this just as much as he was. Who know how touch starved Miguel was until you started this.

"Excuse me, Miguel?"

Not wanting to get caught, Miguel quickly pinned you under his desk. He covered your mouth, signaling you to be quiet until the lab worker left.

"Hm? He must have left."

Miguel resisted a sigh of relief as he stared at you. Your body pressed against his as the two of you hid under a small space. Your legs were practically around his hips while your hands were resting against his arms.

"..."

Miguel felt like he was at a loss for words. Everything about this felt so right. Your body just melted against his. His perfect dream come true. Slowly moving his hand away from your mouth, Miguel waited for you to say something. Anything!

"M-Mig," You finally spoke, cheeks burning red. Miguel stroked your cheek, watching you lean against his palm,

"Think these....stress hugs can get a little more-"

"Touchy?"

You took the words right out of his mouth. Pulling you onto his lap as you both still hid under the desk, Miguel resisted a groan. How could he tease you to being his girlfriend? How could he bully you to be his? Miguel needed to know!

"I-Is it weird...t-that this is...calming?" You asked shyly, resting your head against his neck as you touched his chest. Miguel was biting the inside of his cheek,

"Yea, guess that means you're a pervert, (Y/N)." He chuckled. You frowned, glaring at him,

"S-So are you!"

Miguel grunted as he grabbed your waist, pulling you closer to him as he inhaled your perfume. His eyes nearly rolling back as you trembled against his touch. Your soft hands playing with his hair was making him go crazy.

"I'll happily take that insult from you."

A small smile formed against your lips as you and Miguel stayed like for a few seconds longer. You had to get back to work, but at least you knew that the two of you could keep seeing each other like this. It felt good. It made you feel better.

No longer did you feel lonely as Miguel held you in his warm embrace.

No longer did you know that you were the only one who needed this escape.

You had Miguel to be handsy with.

You had Miguel to share your comfort. Even if he was a bully to you sometimes. Miguel would always make it up by calming you down with his touches.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hope you enjoyed!!!!

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel o’hara x reader #spiderman 2099 #miguel spiderman #atsv miguel #across the spiderverse #miguel x you #miguel x y/n

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reixtsu · 10 days

Text

Unwanted Attention - Jiyan x fem reader

Synopsis: While going to the meet up place that you promised to see Jiyan, a drunk man started flirting with you. Jiyan interferes and guides you away from the man.

Genre: idk to be honest

Warnings: none!

"Nice tits you have there, milady," a random drunk guy whistled at you as you made your way to the meeting spot that you promised to meet Jiyan. The man gazed at you for what seemed to be like hours, lust slowly showing in his eyes. You glared at him in disgust, visibly uncomfortable with being in the man's presence.

"Um, was that supposed to be a compliment?" You asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

The man grinned, snapping his fingers, as if proud that you noticed. "Of course, sweet cheeks." Oh, that cringed you out even more.

"Well, I'm not interested in you. Bye," You turned around, not caring if he still wanted to talk. Just as you were about to0 walk away, the man grabbed your wrist. "Wait! Give me a chance!"

You flicked your wrist away from him, glaring at him in pure disgust as if he was molding trash. "I have a meeting with someone. Move."

"Such a feisty attitude. Come on, I won't bite!" The man teased. "Unless you want me to."

Annoyance bubbled in your chest as you opened your mouth to say something, but it was just then when an intimidating yet gentle figure formed behind you.

"She said she wasn't interested. Is that not clear enough?" a deep and soothing voice addressed, hif voice having an air of authority. You smiled, turning around to look at your beloved Jiyan.

His piercing yellow eyes held no mercy as he glared at the drunk man. You couldn't help but admire his chest, completely forgetting the previous man.

"And who the hell are you?" The drunk man slurred, irritated that someone interrupted his flirting. He was desperate to shoot his shot. "I was in the middle of courting that beautiful lady!"

You laughed, finally having your attention back at the man. it was honestly amusing that he thought that he had any chance to court you when Jiyan was around. Your heart and soul belonged to Jiyan only, but you laid low for a while as you watched how Jiyan would handle the situation.

"Unfortunately for you, you do not meet her standards. Besides, she is already with someone at the moment."

"Heh. So what? She obviously would change her mind if she gave me a chance." You could tell from Jiyan's impatient sigh that he was starting to lose his patience.

He closed his eyes, reaching out to hold your hand in his gentle grasp. "We must depart now. We have a meeting to attend to. I would appreciate it if you stop bothering my lover."

The other man scoffed, not knowing how to react to Jiyan's polite tone. "Um. Fine..."

With a small hum, Jiyan walked away, hand in hand with you. You looked at him with an amused expression, ready to tease him at any moment. Jiyan loved you, and was willing to protect you no matter the situation. After all, you were the light of his life, and you loved him back just as much.

Author’s note: I know most Wuwa simps simp for Scar, I kinda do too but I’m trying my best to hide the fact that I simp for Scar or else my girlfriend will tease me. Jiyan and Yinlin though, oh my goodness I simp so hard for them.

Anyways, this isn’t my proudest work. As some might be able to tell, it was rushed. I basically just put all of my ideas onto paper.

Jiyan though… he is hot and fine as heck.

#wuthering waves #wuthering waves x reader #Wuwa x reader #jiyan x reader #jiyan Wuwa x reader #Wuwa jiyan #Wuwa #jiyan Wuwa #Reixtsu #x reader #wuwa fanfic #Wuthering waves fanfic

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trippinsorrows · 9 days

Text

with me + part fourteen

authors note: this one is loaded, and there are some hints/tidbits spread throughout, but also.....please don't hate me. 😭

status: in progress // masterlist

warnings: fluff, language, suggestive themes, angst

song inspo: with me by destiny’s child

faceclaims

words: 12k

taglist: @pixiedust4000 @yolobloggers @southerngirl41 @msbigredmachine @wanderingreigns

Bianca: Hi. I know you asked for space, and I will respect that. I just want you to know I talked to dad. I made him be honest with me, and I know the truth now. I completely understand if your decision is that you want nothing to do with me. But please know, I had no idea, and I would love the chance to be in your life. I am not our father.

Bianca: It may have started with him, but it can end with us.

Rereading the text for what must be the 18th time, you feel just as conflicted and confused as you were when you first received it a few days prior. It’s been a bit easy to ignore it, to let it sit unanswered as you focused on getting as much work done as you could before leaving for Vegas.

Thankfully, as the game is on a Sunday, you, Callie, and Alexis got an early morning flight to Vegas where you were met by Joe at the airport. After Callie had her sweet meltdown at seeing Joe again, the three of ya’ll met up with the twins, Trin, Kaylah, Jon’s wife, and the rest of the kids at the hotel.

You were a little nervous about Callie meeting her other cousins, as you know kids don’t always get along right away. But all anxiety is melted away the minute Callie and Jon’s daughter, Ellie, bonded over a common love of Disney. It’s a wrap from there, so much so that Callie feels comfortable enough to be left with them while you and Joe leave to get your tattoos.

Your current location.

“Let's play a game.”

Joe’s suggestion is greatly appreciated because it pulls you away from hyper-fixating on this text and just what to do with said text. However, it’s also questioned because what the hell kind of games do people play at ya’ll’s big ages?

“Joe, we are too damn old for games—but what is it?”

He laughs at your quick change of tune. He must know that inner competitiveness never really goes away, even if you haven’t been in that competition space in literal years. “I'm gonna show you a house, and all you have to say is either you like it or not. But, you can't ask any questions.”

“A house? Like an actual house?”

“Yes, baby. An actual house.”

His sarcastic tone doesn’t help. Asshole. “And I can’t ask you any questions about a literal house we’re thinking of buying?”

“Yup.”

Pouting, you murmur, “This game sucks.”

“Okay, Callie.” He messes around on his phone, giving a couple touches before he hands you his phone.

You nearly drop the damn thing, mouth ajar in awe. “Joe, how much—”

“No questions, remember?”

Sucking your teeth, you continue to scroll, each photo evoking another level of wonder. The house is stunning and huge. A literal mansion with landscape and design that looks like it was ripped right out of a luxury HGTV special. Swiping through the photos, each allow you to see that the beauty is not only matched but in many ways exceeded on the inside. A massive kitchen with two ovens, spacious bedrooms, almost equally large bathrooms, movie theater room, a separate building in the humongous backyard that you could easily see Joe turning into a personal gym, and so much more.

You really focus on the outside photos, eyes softening. “She's always wanted a backyard….” It's so easy for you to imagine Callie running around freely, swinging on a swing, maybe even helping you tend to a garden you see more than enough room to plant.

You can see yourself in this house.

“I like it,” you finally answer. There's no need to lie to him, and you're pretty sure he could tell you love it based on your facial expressions alone. “Now can you tell me how much—”

“Nope.”

Sitting up, you shove on his shoulder. “Come on, that's not fair.”

“Mmmhmm.”

“Leati.” You can't remember the last time you called this man by his first name. Years, most likely. You used it sparingly, far and few in between, mostly reserved for moments like this when he was pissing you off.

“You can complain all you want. I'm not telling you shit.” That only irks you more, and he’s indifferent to your obvious irritation, which pisses you off even more. If anything, he sounds almost amused at your frustration. “I'm gonna ask the realtor to arrange a tour. You can ask her then.”

Suspicious, you accuse, “your ass will probably tell her not to tell me or to lie.”

“Maybe.”

It’s the fact that you know that’s something he would do too. “So my name wouldn’t be on the house? Is that what you’re saying?”

At that, he looks your way, clearly confused but mostly offended. “Of course, it would. Your name will be on everything. I just can’t give you too much information now because you’ll push back and say it’s too much.”

“So, it is expensive,” you conclude. He sighs, heavily. “Joe, we don’t need anything too extravagant or over the top. You know I’m not materialistic like that. I don’t want you feeling like you have to—”

“How many times do we have to have this conversation?” There’s a hint of irritation in his tone, but it’s not entirely unwarranted. Joe has told and showed you multiple times that there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for you and Callie. It’s just you being…..well, you. “Anything I do for you, anything I do for Callie is because I want to. You should know by now that I’m a man who won’t do anything he doesn’t want to.”

Sitting on his words, you answer, “I know.” And you do, you’re just so damn slow in actually accepting this. “I’m sorry, I just—I’m stubborn. You know this.”

“Yeah, well get un-stubborn.” His hand on your thigh gives a teasing squeeze but before you can inquire about just what kind of alone time you two will have over this weekend, a man walks out, heavily tatted, dressed in semi traditional Samoan attire and wearing a friendly smile.

Joe stands up to greet the man, introducing him as Mike. It’s a name you’re familiar with as you recall eons ago when Joe would rave about his tattoo artist and the man’s insane talent.

“This is my girlfriend, Y/N.” It’s both strange and welcomed hearing Joe introduce you as such, like it’s almost too good to be true, even if there’s not an ounce of reluctance in his voice.

“Nice to meet you,” you greet, accepting his handshake. “And for getting us in on short notice.”

He waves it off. “Joe’s always welcomed here anytime and as his girlfriend, so are you.”

It stands out to you just how many people speak so highly of Joe. You've always thought he was a genuinely nice guy, but hearing it co-signed by others definitely shows what a gem you’ve got. “Great design choice, by the way,” he compliments, directing his next question toward you. “Joe mentioned you were a bit nervous about the placement….”

“I think I’m good now,” you answer. Tattoo pain is temporary, but placement is forever. You especially don’t want to “settle” for something that has so much meaning. “Same placement as his, but he can go first.”

Mike laughs, clapping his hands together. “Sounds great. Let’s get started.”

________

You’d completely forgotten how extremely frustrating it is to get ready to go clubbing, and understandably so given at your big age, that’s not really a thing. However, Alexis absolutely refused to accept your decline to go out with her and even convinced Trinity and Kaylah to tag along.

The bitch even took it upon herself to bring an outfit for you, knowing you definitely didn’t pack for this kind of outing.

And while the dress is definitely fire, it’s a pain to get on given the cutouts and need to clasp the chest part. Not to mention, your arm is still a bit sore from the tattoo. Granted, Callie’s excitement at seeing how both you and Joe got her name tatted on you was more than worth all the pain.

This dress though….it’s not worth shit.

“Fuck.” This was so much easier two bra sizes ago, but between trying to hold them together and clasp the hook on the dress, you’re just about ready to call it a night before the night can even truly begin. Settling frustration aside, you grab the robe off the counter and slide it on as you stick your head out the door. “Babe?”

His deep voice replies seconds later. “Yeah?”

“Can you come help me with something real quick?”

“Mommy,” Callie groans, and you can only imagine the scowl on her face. She loves spending time with her daddy. “We’re playing.”

Your lips curve into a smile, assuring her, “it’ll only take a second, baby.”

Joe walks into the bathroom and shuts the door behind him. “What’s up?”

“I need you to clasp my dress for me,” you explain, removing the robe and holding your breast with your forearm. “I’m gonna hold them up, and I just need you to—what?”

His eyes slowly travel up and down your body, but his overall gaze reeks of confusion and a level of disapproval. “Where’s the rest of it?”

You’re not stupid, very much aware of what he’s asking. But, you’re also stubborn, a fact he’s well aware of given the fact that you talked about just that this morning. “The rest of what?”

His answer is simple. “Your outfit.”

Muscle twitching in your jaw, you attempt to divert the conversation. “Come on, everyone else is almost ready—“

“I’m serious.”

Huffing, you slap on that sweet, teacher voice and bring your hands to his chest, allowing your breast to fall open and freely. It doesn’t miss you how his gaze moves downward and lingers. “Joe, I love you, but you met me post-college. Trust me, this is tame compared to what I used to wear clubbing. And we both know I’m gonna wear what I want, regardless, so I just need you to swallow that annoying ass male pride, which I know you will, because you love me enough to do so, and just strap my titties down for me, okay?” Leaning up to kiss his cheek, your finger moves in a figure eight down his body. “Besides, when I get back tonight, you get to rip this same dress off me, bend me over this very same counter right next to us, and make me watch as you fuck me, hard, from behind.”

Your sex drive has always been on the higher end, but it’s been even more intense in the past couple days, and while your last few intimate encounters with Joe have been more loving and sweet…..that’s not what you need right now.

You need this man to fuck you in the way only he can. Choking, spanking, biting, a tad bit of degrading, hips bruised from how tight he holds you with backshots that have you speaking in a different language. The whole nine yards.

Your words paint such a vivid picture that’s clearly too far out for his comfort as his hands move to your ass, squeezing roughly. “And what’s stopping me from doing just that right now?”

God has a cruel sense of humor because before you can even fix your mouth to respond, the very reason why makes her presence known. She knocks on the door with all the irritation in her little body. “Daddy, are you almost done?”

Eyes twinkling with mischief as you step back to hold your breast together, you remind him. “that is why not. You’re on daddy duty tonight.” Joe doesn’t say anything and instead finally hooks it for you. “Thank you.”

“At least pull it down in the back or something,” he grumbles and actually tries to pull down the back of the dress.

“Baby, I have an ass. It’s gon’ shift right back up as soon as I move.” Sure enough, one step is all it takes for it to roll up just a few centimeters below your ass. Unlocking and opening the door, you beam at Callie. “He’s all yours, baby girl.”

“You look so pretty, mommy!”

“Thank you, baby.” You lean down for a kiss on her cheek right as Alexis walks in. Callie goes to lead Joe back into the “living room” area as Alexis welcomes herself into the hotel room. You’re not even gonna bother asking how she got a key. Her dress, unlike your all black little piece, is sparkly, short, and strapless. It’s very much Alexis.

She gasps. “Girl, that dress is fitting and your boobs are sitting.”

Winking and lifting your breasts, you laugh, complementing, “you look amazing.”

“Duh. I’m me.” She brushes her shoulders before peeping past you to say hi to Joe and Callie. “Hi, future brother-in-law and part time child.”

All you can hear is Callie asking Joe what a part time child is as Alexis grabs you by your wrist and starts dragging you toward the door. “Come on, Trin wants us to do a TikTok before we leave.”

Instantly, you’re scowling. “A TikTok? Girl, we are too old for that.”

“I swear, you act like you’re 75 sometimes,” she dismisses, walking you out the room and across the hall to the other room where Jimmy and Trin are staying. You’re still impressed how they all managed to get rooms not only on the same floor but literally all across each other.

Must be a rich people thing.

Walking into the room, you see Trin and Kaylah are dressed a bit more modestly then you and Alexis, not as much skin showing but still very much giving club vibes.

Compliments are again exchanged among the four of you, but Kaylah is the first to say, “girl, I’m surprised Joe didn’t have nothing to say about your outfit.”

Chuckling, you inform, “he tried, but he knows I don’t play that. I’m a grown woman. Imma wear what I want. Besides, I know how to shut him up.”

What’s implied doesn’t need to be explained but not according to Alexis who of course blurts out, “that’s right. Sitting on your man’s face will do it every time.”

“Please excuse her. She ran out of her Lithium.”

“Ehh, they tried that. Didn’t work for me.” It’s the fact that she’s probably dead serious too. “Okay, now which trend are we doing, Trin?”

Trinity's smile, like everything else about her, is bright and beautiful. “I was thinking the Wanna Be one by Meg and Glo.”

Instantly, you know Alexis is sold. “That is my damn song.” She then points to you. “This one needs to go last though, because when I tell you that thing moves like water. This bitch can twerk like Megan.”

One thing you’ve never been is a liar, so you can’t find it in you to call bullshit on Alexis exclamation. You’ve always been super flexible, courtesy of cheer, and twerking has always come a bit natural to you. But, it was really when you started hitting up the strip clubs in college and made acquaintances with the strippers that you learned all of the tricks.

However, it’s also been years since you last stepped out on the town, and your joints start to hurt from just sitting too long, so the hype may be a little bit undeserved after all.

“That was also before I had a baby, Lex.”

Alexis brushes off your downplay. “She can even do the hand thing. You know, where you put your hand in between your ass cheeks while you still shaking? Iconic.”

Studying her closely, you realize why she’s so amped already. “You pre-gramed, didn’t you?”

She presses her lips together and then goes into denial. “I plead the fifth.” Laughing, she tugs on your arm. “Come onnnn.”

“Fine.” Caving to Alexis is typically the best outcome because the bitch is relentless when she wants something, especially when she’s already tipsy.

However, Trinity seems just as excited as she directs the three of you to the bathroom where she already has the phone propped up and everything.

It ends up being a fun time that reminds you so much of those days back in college where you and Lex and a few other girlfriends would spend a damn near hour taking the “perfect” photos for the “gram” and even longer to come up with a witty caption. You even show off a little bit of your twerking skills, nothing too crazy, much to Alexis chagrin.

Arriving at the club and being escorted to the VIP section, courtesy of Alexis, the ladies order a round of drinks while you settle for a simple bottle, never glass, of water. After your whole fiasco during Christmas, you can’t see yourself sipping even a glass of wine for a while.

It’s a nice blast from the past but also suddenly a bit irritating with how noisy and boisterous everything is. The club is packed, and you’re grateful to be seated up and away from everyone else. While Alexis starts to get her buzz going, Trin partially surprises you by asking for your approval to upload one of the videos to TikTok and a photo to post on Instagram. It’s only partially surprising, because Trin has always been a real one.

You agree and even helping her with a caption.

Something bout’ that melanin ✨

Pulling out your own phone to check in on Joe and Callie, you’re surprised to see you have a bunch of IG notifications. This leads to you realizing that Alexis, at some point, posted a couple of photos she made you take on your profile. She even took it upon herself to come up with a caption that makes you both chuckle and shake your head.

ya favorite athlete’s favorite athlete 😌

It’s not a huge deal to you, as you’d went ahead and made your Instagram private again a couple months prior. It’s a feature you toggle on and off, knowing that only the people you want knowing and seeing your page would even know how to find you. However, with Joe being back in your life and having a few posts with Callie’s face in them, you lean on the side of caution and just plan to keep it private from here on out.

It’s the comments though that really make you pause.

@user1 omg y/n!!! That body been giving, sis!

@user2 HA! Always was that girl. Still that girl. Miss you, cuz!

@Mariaaahhhh___92: This really how you wanna do this?

@BigLexPurr: Say it louder for the BITCH in the comments before me. I mean, in the back. 😃

@user3: If only I looked like that after having my baby lmao You look amazing, Y/N!

@RomanReigns Damn straight.

With all the swiftness and quickness, you block Mariah, not needing or wanting her and Alexis to get into a whole spat under your post. But Joe’s comment is definitely one that takes you for surprise, and you wrestle with whether or not you should acknowledge it but eventually decide to do so with a simple reply.

@yourusername @RomanReigns 😘

You make a mental note to roast his ass for being in your IG comments like that but put your phone away when WAP comes on. Of course, it’s only appropriate that the four of you rap along to every iconic, spiritual lyric spit by Meg and Cardi. Alexis even influences you into doing a little twerk on her that she absolutely captures on Snapchat.

You don’t even need to ask her to know she’s gonna waste no time in sending that over to Joe. How she managed to get him to accept her add on Snapchat is something you’ll never understand.

“I need some more drink, but I don’t want to get up,” Alexis whines, shooting you the puppy dog eyes.

“Gee, why don’t I—”

“Thank you, friend!”

Shaking your head, you make your way out of the VIP and through the crowd to the bar. Placing the order, you wait patiently, praying that what you know is bound to happen doesn’t happen. A waste of a prayer, because that unwanted happening appears in the form of a crooked smile, bad haircut, and height that can’t exceed 5’9.

He just leans back against the bar, as if waiting for you to, of all things, acknowledge him. That makes you laugh aloud. The fucking irony.

You decide to take the lead and dead this thing before he can run whatever play he thinks will work on you. “No, I don't want or need you to pay for my drink, and I don't need anything put on your tab. I'm good.”

His smile doesn't deter. If anything, he looks even more intrigued. This was always the part you hated about clubbing. Men who can’t seem to conceive that you “playing hard to get” is actually and really just complete and utter disinterest.

“Oh, you more than good, ma.” His gaze resting on your chest much longer than what's appropriate is both irritating but expected. Men see titties and lose all sense of self-control, the little that some actually do possess, that is. “I'm just trying to see how good.”

You were over this conversation before it even started, hence your readiness to put an end to his fruitless hopes and your irritation.

“My man is 6’3, 287lbs and fights niggas for a living.” Tone both bored and casual as you list off basic facts, you ask, “He's home right now watching our 6 kids. Still wanna do this?”

It's the way his eyes go wide that makes it hard for you not to laugh. That should definitely do the trick. “Naw, I'm good. You fine, but you ain't that damn fine.”

“That's what I thought.” Taking the Martini from the bartender, you saunter your way back over to your section and hand it to Alexis.

“I take it homeboy was trying to take you home.”

Chuckling, you nod. “But, I handled it.”

“Oh, I'm sure you did.” She then turns to the group. “This one was always vicious when turning down bums at the club.”

“Cause sir, why are you talking to me with your uneven fade and height that starts with a 5?”

Trinity and Kay fall out laughing, but you’re dead serious. You’d been called arrogant a couple of times, but it never really affected you because you know you just have standards and refuse to settle.

And clearly…..it worked out.

“I really wish we could do this more often,” Kay suddenly shares, and it takes you a bit by surprise. There was a level of trepidation regarding meeting Josh’s wife. You know they’ve been together since they were in high school, which means there’s a good chance she knows Joe’s ex-wife. A chance they could be friends.

And if she’s anything unlike Mariah, she wouldn’t want to chop it up with the woman who slept with and had a whole baby for her friend’s husband. But so far, Kay has been nothing but kind, a bit on the quiet and reserved side. It’s an interesting dynamic considering Josh is anything but.

“Do you live in Florida too?” Alexis suddenly asks, sipping her Martini. When Kay nods, Lex slaps you on the arm. “Well, this one will be moving there probably before the end of summer, so maybe ya’ll can link up more often.”

Intrigue paints both Trin and Kay’s faces, as the former asks, “seriously?”

“Yeah, umm, Joe and I were actually looking at a house earlier.” A thin layer of excitement re-emerges as you reflect on the photos you saw. You really do like that house, but it feels so much like a dream, like the expensive houses you look at and critique on Zillow knowing damn well you can’t afford them.

And you can’t, but he probably can.

You know he can, or he wouldn’t be showing you in the first place.

“How do you really feel about moving?” Trin questions. “You still live in your hometown, right?”

“I do.” It’s a valid question, one you, if you’re being honest, sometimes go back and forth on. You know you want to move and ultimately will, but there are still some moments where you feel a bit unsure. It’s to be given, you’re sure, as change can be difficult. “There’s a lot of things I’ll miss, like being away from my mom, but….I want to be with Joe, and it’s what’s best for Callie.”

“She really is a sweet child. You did an amazing job with her.”

Kay’s compliment warms your heart. “Thank you….that means a lot to me.” Callie is your pride and joy, so to hear others speak highly of her, of how you raised her thus far will always be the best kind of compliment.

“You’re a teacher, so you’re off for the summer, right?” Trinity suddenly asks. Nodding, she continues, “you and Callie should go on the road with Joe this summer then. Maybe not the whole summer, but a portion. It’ll be fun. I’d love to have ya’ll, and you know he would too.”

It’s a suggestion that you find yourself actually considering. Outside of PD, which can be done virtually with some prior arrangements, there really would be nothing stopping you from tagging along. Callie would be ecstatic, and something tells you Joe would too.

Kay then shoots Trinity a look that you can’t quite decipher. “isn’t he….”

As if awareness dawns, Trinity mutters, “oh, shit, I forgot.”

Understandably curious, and always uncomfortable with being kept out of the communication loop, you inquire, “what?”

Trinity looks a bit nervous but then answers casually, “Oh nothing, I just forgot they’ve, uhh, gotten a little strict now about family coming on the road. Something about it being too distracting for the wrestlers.”

Alexis seems as skeptical as you are. There’s something they’re not saying. “Isn’t he literally like the face of the whole company? I feel like if he wants them there, then they’ll be there.” She has a fair point. “Look how he takes time off to come fly and see them.”

That actually brings on a question you’ve been wondering about for a while. Directed to Trinity, you ask, “do you know if he gets in trouble for that?” Trinity looks a bit unsure of how to respond, and you know immediately it’s because she’s trying to figure out how much to say. “The truth, please. I can handle it.”

With a heavy sigh, she relents, “Jon mentioned Joe said something about them talking with him, but I get the sense Joe told them to fuck off. Professionally, of course.”

You’re not sure how to feel about this. The last thing you want is for Joe to risk all of his hard work for you. And you know it’s more for Callie than anything, which you get, but he still has contractual obligations he needs to fulfill.

“I can tell you this…..they can say what they want, but Joe doesn’t play about you and Callie, so he gon keep hopping on flights as much as he needs to.”

“He was really happy when he found out about Callie,” Kay adds in a soft tone with a kind voice. “I remember overhearing him talking with Josh, and he told him, “she’s the best thing to ever happen to me.”

Crying in the club definitely wasn’t on your agenda for this trip, but here you are, trying to blot your eyes with the back of your hand. “Ya’ll, I didn’t wear waterproof mascara. Don’t have me out here looking like a racoon scaring folks off.”

Alexis chimes, “Joe won’t mind. It’ll keep him from coming up in here beating some poor soul’s ass for trying to holler at you.”

Kaylah snorts. “She’s not too far off. All them fools are super protective and territorial.”

“I’m just trying to figure out when ya’ll are gonna stop being selfish and slide one of them my way. It’s obvious they fertile as hell, so there’s gotta be an eligible cousin or uncle or something.”

It’s the fact you know that Lex is dead serious. Thankfully, Travis Porter comes on and that’s enough to bring all of ya’ll back to your feet like you’re 21 all over again. And that’s the dominant and recurring theme of the entire night: dancing, laughing, talking, Alexis being unhinged.

Wash, rinse, repeat.

The four of you end up returning to the hotel shortly before midnight, the perfect time as somehow, the guys got all of the kids down for bed and were just waiting to make sure you all returned safely.

Sitting around one of the hotel rooms, you all just chop it up, sharing various stories, no one really tired enough to call it a night.

“See, that’s the thing that people don’t realize. Ain’t a whole lot of difference between Joe and Roman. Uce been had that dog in him.” Jon starts off, sitting up as he explains. Somehow the topic landed on when they were growing up and how Joe’s always had “parts” of Roman in him. “Like one time when we was kids, we was playing a basketball game and he showed up late talking about “aye, let me join.” We tell him, ‘sorry man, we already started.’ He takes the ball, chucks it over in the neighbor's yard, talking about “ain’t nobody playing now.”

There’s a chorus of laughter, but your jaw drops open as you look at Joe, an easy task as you’re perched on his lap. “Did you really do that?” It’s almost inconceivable to see this man do something like that, especially as a child. “Joe, that was mean as hell.”

It’s the fact that he doesn’t deny it and simply shrugs. “Should have let me join in.”

Covering your mouth and shaking your head, you go to scold him for being such an ass, regardless of how long ago it was. But, Alexis soon adds in her two cents, looking your way. “I don’t know why you looking shocked and disappointed, you weren’t much better when we were in college.” She then directs her attention to the group. “So, we were cheerleaders, and Abby Lee Miller over here was a total nightmare during competition season.”

Gasping, you sit up, Joe’s big arm locked around your waist to keep you on him. “I was not.”

She rolls her eyes and takes a drink before admitting, “girl, I love you, but you were a bitch when you were in competition mode.” This is the first time you’re hearing this, so of course, it takes you by surprise. You won’t deny that you could be a bit…..intense during the season, but as captain, there was a shit ton of responsibility on your shoulders. Someone had to take the lead. “There’s a reason we had a whole group chat without you called, ‘Deliver us from Y/N’.”

“You had what?” This is news to you. As far as you were concerned, you had a great relationship with your teammates. It’s why your head coach let you take charge so much, especially in your junior and senior years. “Because I was doing my job?”

Alexis continues, ignoring your questions which is both annoying and predictable. She loves to tell a good story. “She’s the reason I’m hoping and praying Usher doesn’t perform More. It was the song for our Nationals routine, and when I tell you she was on us like goddamn slaves. That routine was hard as fuck, and she ain’t care one bit. It was hella good, like she choreographed the shit out of it, but it was so technical and draining. Bitches in the corner vomiting during practice, and she like ‘get a bucket and keep it pushing.’”

All eyes land on you, waiting for a response, but it’s hard to retort the truth, so you settle on justification. “Okay, that was their fault. I told ya’ll not to eat an hour before.”

Alexis claps her hands as everyone else around laughs. “I rest my case.”

“No wonder ya’ll go together so well,” Josh mutters, taking a drink of his beer. Kaylah slaps his arm but doesn’t say anything in disagreement.

“What I’m hearing is it’s gon be a two night A&E special. First night? Surviving Joe. Second night? Surviving Y/N.”

Jon’s delivery is really what sells it. You can’t even hold back your laughter. Leaning back into Joe’s chest, you lift up both hands to flip them off. “Ya’ll not gon’ keep talking about my man.” Partially joking, partially serious, it’s not missed upon you how Joe’s deep chuckle in your ear is followed by his fingers innocently moving against the outside of your thigh.

“You and your man was clearly out here terrorizing people,” Trinity laughs with a shake of her head. “That’s so crazy too, because you don’t give off that energy, Y/N.”

“I’ve calmed down a lot since I had my daughter.” And it’s the truth. Along with age and an extreme respect for your field along with your professional reputation. “But yeah, college Y/N…..she was something else. A little bit of high school as well, but mostly college.”

Alexis makes a sound and then blurts out, “tell em’ about the time you bust that stripper in the head with a bottle, and she had to get 75 stitches.”

Understandably so, there’s a round of shocked expressions and questions following Alexis so casually dropping one of the wildest experiences you had in college.

You hear Jon ask something about if you have a criminal record, but it’s really Joe giving you that ‘you gon explain?’ look that makes you cave.

“Oh lord, I can’t believe I’m about to tell this story.” You turn to Joe, warning. “You’re not allowed to hold it against me either.”

“Let me hear it first, and I’ll let you know after.” You know he’s joking, but still, you hit him on his arm. He’s supposed to hold you down, no matter what. Aggravated assault and all.

“Okay, so were at the strip club—”

Jon can’t help himself, asking, “damn, you got down like that?”

He has no idea.

“You gotta remember, we were cheerleaders, so we spent a lot of time with the football and basketball teams. And they asses was always there, so we would tag along cause why not? I always had a good time. The food was good as hell too. Anyway, I was dating a football player at the time—”

Alexis slaps Joe on the arm. “She’s always had a type.”

“Yeah, ‘ain’t shit’, clearly.” You grab Joe’s jaw, clarifying. “Except for you, baby.” He mutters his approval, and you continue, “so, I was dating this dude, and he was cheating on me, which was fine. I wasn’t really into him anyway. But, turns out the girl he was cheating with was one of the strippers there and a classmate. I don’t know how the stupid bitch didn’t realize who I was before that night, but whatever. I guess she caught feelings for him or something and saw me as the problem? Mind you, I was dating him before he even started fucking her, but she called herself trying to step to me. And she was talking shit, which I didn’t necessarily care about because one thing I’ve never and will never do is fight over a man. Any fight I ever got into was because they said something about my mama or someone else I love.”

“How many fights you done—” Trinity elbows Jon who grunts and then mutters for you to keep going.

Chuckling, you do so, “so she calls me a bitch….okay, but then calls my mom a bitch, and at that point, I’m seeing red. Cause now my food is cold, I was about to get a lap dance that’s not gon’ happen cause now I gotta beat her ass, and all over some wack ass dick. But now she done bought my mama into it….absolutely not.” A beat. “I didn’t hit her first, because I never hit first, but I did say some slick shit that I knew would provoke her.” You decide to leave out exactly what you said given how graphic it was. “And she hit me, but then this other bitch joins in—”

“And that’s when I get involved,” Alexis chimes, raising her drink high and proud. “Because what you not gon do is jump my motherfucking best friend in front of me.”

Laughing, you continue, “so Alexis crazy ass is beating her friend, I’m on this girl, but then she calls herself trying to stab me with the heel of her shoe or something cause obviously I’m winning—”

“This some WorldStarHipHip shit if I ain’t ever heard—” Trinity hits Jon for his interruption and motions for you to continue going, clearly and deeply invested in the retelling of this wild ass night.

“I’m mixing on this bitch, cause one thing about me, I know how to fight. I just choose not to do it.” And it’s true. Fighting is a last resort, always has been for you, but make no mistake, you know how to throw down. “Anyway, I snatch the shoe out of her hand, grab this bottle of Hennesy I see near me and smash it over her head.”

“And it was lights out.” Alexis says dramatically. “That bitch was laid out like a crime scene. Patrick Star headass.”

Wiping the tears from your eyes from your laughter, you continue, “so someone calls the cops. They show up, and I’m starting to get nervous thinking she’s gonna press charges, because I bust her head open. She had to get stitches and everything. But I had made friends with the owner of the club—-that’s a whole other story—and basically, he refused to provide her with any video footage, made sure no one said anything about what happened, was friends with the cops, and they just chalked it up to a bunch of drunk girls being stupid. And I got off.” Clapping your hand to signify the end, you rest back against Joe. “The end.”

There’s a slightly understandable moment of silence before Kaylah calmly asks, “How drunk were you?”

That’s an easy answer. “Oh, I wasn’t drunk.”

“So….you did all that sober?” Trinity asks, like she needs to just make sure she’s following correctly.

“Yup.” You pop the ‘p’ and look over at Joe who’s all of the emotions, primarily, amused, surprised, and strangely turned on. “Wild times.”

Jon is the first to speak after that. “Man, I always knew I liked you, Y/N. Your ass a little crazy, but I fucks with it.”

Laughing, you explain. “You gotta keep in mind, I was like 19 at the time. I was young and definitely dumb in a lot of ways. I’ll be 32 this year and have grown a lot. I have zero desire to put my hands on anyone. I have a child and a career. I may be tempted, but I’m not going to actually do it. I have too much to lose”

“And that’s why she has me.” Alexis lifts her drink. “I don’t have much to lose cause I’m rich enough to get off. Plus, she’s all boring now. You see how early we’re back. Back in the day, we’d club hop until like 4 in the morning. At least up until Junior year,” she gestures to you with her outstretched thumb. “That’s when this heifer had to get all studious on me.”

“4.0, Summa Cum Laude.” You make a little pose and laugh. “I just got my shit together, and clearly….” you lean back to look at Joe. “ —it paid off.”

—----------

Obviously, you’ve never attended a professional football game, let alone the fucking Super Bowl, but even knowing that, you’re partially surprised by just how many damn people are there. It’s absolutely jam packed, and you’re suddenly grateful for the security detail that escorts the group of you to your seating area.

Joe holds Callie and keeps your hand in his which impacts you in a strange way that you can’t explain. This whole trip has been him being unabashedly open about you and Callie, and you’re starting to think that’s the part that’s still a bit difficult.

For three years, you felt like some secret he kept hidden and stored away, so to be so “displayed” so publicly is such a stark contrast you’re still trying to sit with. It’s not a bad adjustment, just an adjustment nonetheless.

The section rented for the group is surprisingly spacious enough for everyone, and you and Kaylah immediately go delegating, having the kids all in the back rows with the men front and center to see the game they’ve been praying for all year. You knew Joe was a huge 49ers fan, hence your not being entirely surprised when you found a box at your apartment door with a bunch of 49ers apparel for you and Callie to pick from for the game. He also, in true Joe fashion, sent you both sneakers with the 49ers team colors of black, red, and gold.

And one look at Callie as she interacts with her cousins, you can’t deny how adorable she looks, especially as they’re also sporting the apparel because of course his whole family are also fans. Granted, you can’t deny how adorable she looks all decked out like her daddy. You took a more subtle approach, agreeing to the letterman jacket and sneakers, combining them with the 49ers long sleeved crop top and stretch black pants.

There’s a lot of getting everyone settled and you warning Alexis not to make a damn fool of herself, which apparently she’s also dead set on. Something about needing to be ready to be either a consolation or celebration prize for whatever player she was going home with tonight.

When the game starts though, it’s absolutely fascinating watching how intently focused the men are, not wanting to miss a single second. You’re suddenly really grateful you’d briefly spoke with Callie about how this game was very important to Joe, so his attention may not be on her as much as she wants but that’s okay because he’s just a little busy. She responded well, and you can see how helpful it is for her to be around not only other kids but her cousins.

The ease of their connection and ability to play together is something you’re so grateful for, so happy to see. It definitely makes you even more excited about moving, about her being closer to family.

That thought reminds you to ask Joe when he wants to talk to Callie about that, about moving. It feels like something the two of you should do together.

Ironically, you’ve never really been a huge football person, so your interest in the game and who wins is pretty slim to none. You’re there for a good time and, most importantly, Usher’s performance. Kaylah seems to be on a similar wavelength, so while the rest are deeply invested in arguably the most important game of the year, you two engage in casual dialogue.

She gives you some much appreciated tips on the area, specifically regarding school systems and other resources for Callie. She mentions a dance school her daughter also attends classes at, and that immediately catches your attention cause Callie has given some indications she wants to do ballet. And while you have your reservations, it’s mostly been because of financial reasons.

Not that daddy warbucks over there won’t handle that for you.

There’s also a lot of photos and videos that get taken to commemorate this moment. Most of which are headed by life of the party, Alexis. You’re grateful though, happy to have her here. She even catches your attention when Callie maneuvers her way over to Joe, tugging on his pants leg for him to pick her up. You start to bring her back by you, but you end up watching Joe pull her up, kissing her cheek as he patiently tries to explain the game to her.

It brings a warm smile on your face, and you use your phone to snap a photo of them. It’s from behind, but the lighting, the way Joe is pointing and Callie following his line of vision, there’s something about it so wholesome and moving.

You set it as your lock screen.

By the time halftime rolls around, the men are all in great moods given their team is so far dominating. However, you and the rest of the ladies present are in a great mood for entirely different reasons.

The minute you hear the opening chords of Caught Up, you’re in a completely different world, similar to the happy space of attending concerts in your teens and college days. Alexis is definitely your number one hype woman, but really, Trin and Kaylah are just as lit. The guys are definitely enjoying the show as well, but Usher has been that man for you, so he’s your only focus.

It only gets exponentially better, and the minute he starts to perform Yeah joined by both Lil John and Ludacris, you and Alexis are shouting out every single damn word of Luda’s iconic verse.

It’s definitely a moment you’ll absolutely never forget.

Unfortunately, the halftime show seems to be a bit of a climax as the third quarter progresses, and the tide seems to start turning in favor of the Chiefs. Similarly, it’s not missed upon you how the younger kids seem to be slowing down. Callie is definitely ready for bed and understandably so. It’s been a long day and is way past her bedtime. After a brief discussion with Joe and Josh, it’s decided that you and Kaylah will take the younger kids back to the hotel, especially since you both have very little interest in how the game plays out but respect the guys needing to stay.

And Alexis wild ass most definitely stays behind for….obvious reasons.

Joe, of course, doesn’t let you and Callie leave without a hug, kiss, and telling you both he loves you. A tradition of sorts now, definitely one you’ll never get tired of.

Security escorts the smaller group of you to your vehicles, and by the time you’ve reached the hotel, the younger kids are tapped out. You manage to get Callie out of her clothes, into her jammies, and bonnet on her head before she passes out in her bed.

Kaylah has a similar experience with her kids, the two of you plopping down on the sofa together.

“I hope they pull the win. I don’t know if you’ve ever been around Joe when the 49ers lose, but he’s not pleasant. None of them are.”

“I get it,” you chuckle. “I’d be pissed if I paid all that money to see my team lose too.”

“At least we had our good time seeing Usher’s fine ass.”

Laughing, you slap hands with her. “I know that’s right!”

As the laughter dies down, Kaylah gives you an earnest smile. “I hope I’m not being too forward, but I really am glad you came on this trip. I’ve heard both the twins and especially Joe speak so highly of you, and they definitely weren’t wrong. More importantly, I think you’re really good for Joe. I haven’t seen him as happy as he is with you and Callie since we were in high school, really.”

“Can I be honest with you about something?” Her kind words make you feel comfortable enough to be forthcoming with her. “I was a bit nervous you wouldn’t like me.”

Her eyes widen. “Me? Why?”

“I guess…..I worried you would feel a sense of loyalty to Joe’s ex-wife, and given how we got together…..

She nods. “I can understand that, but…if I’m being honest with you, I’ve probably had more meaningful interactions with you in these two days than I did in all of the time they were together. Don’t get me wrong, Jadah was super nice and chill, but she never really interacted with us like that. She mostly kept to herself.”

“What was the deal with their marriage?” It feels a bit off asking her, but given she’s known them for so long, she of all people would be the person to ask. “I know….I know he told me they only got married because she was pregnant and that….that she miscarried.”

It’s when you say that she gives you a strange look. “Y/N…..they didn’t have a miscarriage.” Before the shock fully wears off and you can ask her what happened then, she explains in an understandably sad tone. “It was….it was a stillbirth. She was 8 months pregnant.”

Your stomach…drops. That….that’s not what you expected to leave her mouth. Not at all.

Thinking back to that brief conversation with Joe, he never really specified what happened. Just made sure you knew Callie didn’t have a sibling. You’d just assumed a miscarriage is what happened.

But a stillbirth….your brain can’t even begin to comprehend the heartbreak they must have experienced. To be in a headspace that you’re welcoming your first child for the better part of a year only to have it so cruelly ripped away in such a horrific manner….it’s devastating.

“I didn’t….”

“He didn’t tell you?” You shake your head, and she offers a sad smile. “I’m not surprised. Joe seems very open with you and obviously trusts you a lot, but that….I know that messed him up real bad.”

Just like finding out he’d missed out on almost five years of Callie’s life. You’re starting to understand more and more why he came at you so hard initially, it was more than warranted but most likely pulling from his prior trauma as well.

Kaylah continues, explaining gently, “I don’t know…I don’t know if it’s a good idea to push him too much on discussing it, YN. He’s never even really talked about it to the twins, and they tell each other everything. I’m sure he’s never fully processed it. Then again, I don’t know how you can ever process something like that.”

Hearing this has suddenly entirely soured your mood, and you have no ill feelings toward Kaylah. Just the opposite. You’re grateful she felt comfortable enough to be honest with you. You just wish the truth didn’t have you with this dull ache in your chest.

—----------

The 49ers loss hits you harder for reasons completely different than actual fans. It makes you sad for Joe, a sentiment you were already struggling with, to be honest.

Anticipating he’ll be looking for some sort of distraction, especially with Callie knocked out for the night, you try to get your shower finished before he makes it back to the hotel. It’s a wasted effort, because not only does he make it back before then, but he scares the hell out of you when his hulking frame joins you from behind under the steaming hot water.

But before a single word can leave your mouth, his lips are on you, and you know instantly that he plans to take his emotions out on you in the only way that’s most appropriate.

Fucking.

Joe fucks you against the shower wall, on the bathroom counter, in the exact way you promised him the night before but couldn’t follow through on because you were tired. He’s rough, rougher than you’ve had him in a while, and while it’s exactly what you wanted, it also saddens you that you know he’s disappointed.

It’s just a game, yes, but there’s something about a loss at this level that makes it hit deeper. It also doesn’t help that you were already feeling a tremendous amount of empathy toward him after finding out about his loss.

Body completely used and thoroughly fucked, the end of your sexscapade finds you both, naked and worn out. Your body is draped upon his as his finger moves around lazily across your back.

It’s a comfortable silence when he asks, “was I too rough with you?”

Lifting your head, you give him the strangest look. How long has it been since ya’ll really fucked? He’s clearly forgotten how you get down. “Did you seriously just ask me that? This is me, Joe..” Laying your head back on his chest, you remind him of your only rules in the bedroom. “Unless I’m bleeding or passed out, never too rough.”

Laughing, he flicks your arm as you kiss his shoulder. Changing gears a bit, his expression softens. “Thank you for coming, for bringing her.”

“You never have to thank me for that.” You remind, because it’s the truth. You’d escort Callie to Siberia if that’s where he was. “But we do need to figure out when we’re gonna talk to her about moving.”

He seems to also remember this is a thing, asking, “how do you think she’ll feel?”

You have to take a second to think about his question. It’s something you’ve definitely considered. Callie has only known your town. That’s her home. What would it be like to uproot her? You finally settle on the best, honest answer you can muster. “I think she’ll be a little sad to leave her preschool friends, definitely my mom but what she wants more than anything is to be a family, so she’ll be happy.”

“Does she know we’re together?”

“I—I don’t know actually.” It’s not really something you’ve thought about until this very moment, just kinda assumed that it was a given. “Well, shit, maybe we should tell her that too.”

He chuckles. “I’m sure she’s probably put two and two together.”

“Probably so.” Callie is definitely one smart cookie, and it wouldn’t be too far fetched to assume she’s realized you and Joe are dating. “Oh, and going back to moving, it’s Florida. Disney is in Florida. That’ll definitely be a selling point for her.”

Joe’s hand moves up and down your side, soothingly. “We’re going the week of her birthday, by the way.”

Peeking up at him, you double check what’s really obvious but also still so surreal. “To Disney?”

“Yeah.”

“They let you off for a whole week?” That’s a stunner, for certain. “Coming off a Wrestlemania win? Damn, just how heavy is your pull now?”

“What?” He seems confused by your question, like he doesn’t understand what you’re saying. And that’s puzzling to you because there’s nothing confusing about what you’re asking. You know enough about WWE to know how this works. He’s gonna retain at WrestleMania and be subsequently thrust deep in promos and segments. “Oh yeah….I’ve got it handled.”

Waiting for more is a waste of time with this man. He can be so coy sometimes. “You’re not gonna tell me anything more, are you?”

“Nope.”

“Ass.” His elusive behavior is becoming both familiar and given but still annoying nonetheless. Regardless, you take your turn, switching topics a bit. “Have I told you how proud of you I am? Cause I am. So so proud of you, Joe. I always knew you could do it.” You lift up, biting down on your bottom lip as you push some of his hair back. “You’re gonna hold the record for most main events at Wrestlemania. Beating Hulk’s record. Thee fucking Hulk Hogan. And once you whoop Ken doll’s ass, you’re gonna have the third longest title reign in WWE history. Do you know how amazing that is?”

His hand is on your hip, making soft circles. “It’s not everything….”

Scoffing, you dismiss his dismissal. That is quite literally everything he ever told you he wanted. “The hell it isn’t. I remember every conversation we ever had about this, Leati. Your worries. Your hopes. Your dreams. This is what you’ve always wanted and worked your whole life for.” He’d always been so open and vulnerable about where he ultimately wanted his career to go, the burning desire he had to make it happen, and to see him do just that means the world to you. It should mean the world to him.

But there’s something off about his tone, and you can’t quite make out if it’s because he’s still reeling from the loss or something else. It almost feels like everything you’re saying is going in one ear and out the other because it no longer means that much to him. You know that can’t be the case. Not with how long he’s been grinding and working his ass off.

His tone and expression are both appreciative as he shares, “I don’t think you’ll ever understand how much your support meant to me. You always knew the right thing to say.”

You lean down to kiss him, nice and slow. “I’m just really good at that shit.” Biting down on your bottom lip, you slowly start to snake your hand down his chest. “I’m really good at a lot of shit actually.” Whatever is bothering him, you know one way to help.

A really really good way.

Chuckling, his jaw clenches when you try to wrap your hand around him, fingers unable to connect from his width. He’s already hard for you. “You lock the door?”

You’ve never been so grateful for hotel rooms with bedroom doors that lock.

“Of course.” There’s no time wasted in moving so that you’re on top of him, reaching to align him just right so you can sink down on your favorite pastime.

“My turn….”

—----------

Someone knocking on your door, loudly, at 11am, just hours after you land back in town wasn’t on your agenda for the day.

You, Callie, and Alexis caught an early morning flight that was difficult for everyone giving how crazy busy the weekend was, but especially for Callie who was already sad at having to say bye to her dad again and was still tired from lack of adequate sleep.

You’re especially happy you chose to take today off and keep Callie home from preschool. You definitely need time to recover.

But life has a way of lifing. You’re immediately annoyed, looking beside you to see that Alexis is also stirring in her sleep, mumbling something about ‘fuck off.’ Sighing loudly, you stare at the ceiling, almost ready to leave whoever it is outside. But then they knock again, and you know this isn’t someone you can avoid.

Even if you’re very tempted. Reaching for a robe, you pull it on and tie it around your wait, sliding your slippers on to make your way to the front door. Not even bothering to look through the peephole, you rip it open, ready to curse someone out when you see who it is.

Alyssa’s striking blue eyes are the first thing you noticed followed by the shine of the police badge attached to Officer Austin’s uniform.

Why the hell is a police officer and one of the town’s social worker at your door?

“Hi….” You have to clear your voice, sleep weighing it down with coarse grit. “Is…is everything alright?” Panic briefly sets in. “Is it one of my students?”

This is the part of being a teacher that guts you, when a child is being harmed or at risk of being harmed and you have to make a call that does both a lot of good and a lot of bad. Alyssa has been the social worker you’ve worked with the most, but this is definitely the first time she’s come to your house about a case.

“Y/N…..” Her expression is grim, and you realize quickly that whatever it is is not good. Not good at all. “We received a report against you.”

“A report?” Your hand is gripping the door so tightly, you’re certain splinters are going to embed themselves into the pads of your fingers. But it’s a much better feeling than what’s starting to grow in the pit of your stomach. “What—what kind of report?”

There’s hesitation, and you understand why when she clarifies. “An immediate danger report.”

“No.” Your stomach drops. “Alyssa, you can’t—-you can’t be serious.”

Your head is absolutely spinning. This…this can’t be right. A social worker and police officer cannot be standing at your door saying that someone called DCFS on you and made a report that not only is Callie in danger, but she’s in immediate danger.

You’ve had the unfortunate experience of being the one to make reports, working plenty with Alyssa and the local police to navigate these cases. And it’s in that experience you’ve learned the definition of an immediate danger report and what it requires.

The immediate removal of a child from the accused home and custody.

They want to take Callie from you.

Officer Austin speaks in an equally sympathetic tone. “Trust me, Y/N. I’ve known you since you were a little girl, and this makes me sick to my stomach. I hate it. I know it’s all lies and a waste of time and resources, but you know the law. We have to—“

However, you’re focused on Alyssa as you know the police are only brought along in case the situation becomes hostile. You have no desire to get physical with law enforcement, but you will get down on your hands and knees if that’s what it takes to keep your baby with you. “Please don’t do this. Alyssa, you know me—“

“I do, and that’s why I arranged where she’ll be released to your mom for custody and I got a hearing scheduled with the judge for you on Wednesday. It’ll only be three days—” If it wasn’t for the pending mental breakdown, you’d be more appreciative. You’d much rather Callie be sent to stay with your mom instead of put in emergency foster care.

You’re not sure if you’d be able to live with that.

“Oh my god…..” You feel like you’re going to pass out, suddenly aware of Alexis' presence as she too asks more questions about what’s going on and who made this report. She’s, understandably, pissed. But, her last question is a no brainer.

There’s only one person you know who would have a motive to do something like this.

“Three days without speaking or seeing my child! You know how attached she is to me, Alyssa!” It’s also in your experience with these types of situations that you know zero communication is allowed between the child and parent being accused until the emergency court hearing takes place.

Three days without being able to speak to Callie….pain like this should never be allowed to be experienced. It’s a nightmare turned into reality.

She truly looks remorseful, and you know she finds this just as ridiculous as you. “My hands are tied Y/N.”

Voice low, you finally ask, “what are the accusations?” If an answer was given to Alexis, you didn’t hear it, and regardless. You need to ask for yourself.

“Y/N.”

You repeat, no room for argument or refusal in your tone. “What…are the accusations, Alyssa?”

She swallows, answering in a low tone. “Child endangerment. Specifically….you’ve been accused of leaving Callie unintended to meet men for sex, and the accusation that made it immediate danger….is that you plan to prostitute Callie.”

It takes everything in you not to projectile vomit right on the spot, as you move your hand to your stomach, bent over. There aren’t enough words to describe your disgust and revulsion.

Alyssa starts to provide more basic information regarding getting Callie back, but it's a waste of time.

You know this. You’re more than well aware of how this process works. Just never in a million years did you think you’d be involved in one of your own.

Absolutely defeated and crushed, you ask, “let me talk to her first, please.”

“Of course.”

Alexis stays behind to follow up with additional questions that you’re partially paying attention to, but the majority of your focus is on staying upright. You could throw up and pass out on cue at this very moment. That’s how overwhelmed you feel, but the second your shaking hand opens Callie’s door, it’s an even bigger battle.

She’s still sleeping.

Your sweet, innocent child is still sleeping, probably trying to recover from all the festivities from this weekend. And you have to wake her up. You have to wake her up to undoubtedly break her heart.

“Oh God…..” Hand on your stomach, you take three, big, deep breaths to settle your nervous system. Callie can’t see how much of a wreck you are. That’s only going to make it worse.

Sitting on the side of her bed, you clench and unclench your hands to minimize the shaking before gently pushing on her shoulder. “Calista, baby, I need you to get up.” It takes a couple of times, as you knew it would because you know your child like the back of your hand. The child who you would never do anything to endanger or any of the other egregious accusations made against you resulting in this nightmare.

Eyes blinking open, you chuckle at the pout on her face.

“I’m sleepy, mommy….”

“I know, baby.” You clear your throat, playing off the way emotion catches you, almost exposing the seriousness of this moment. “But…mommy needs you to get up. You….you’ve gotta go by grandma, okay?”

She looks at you, still with that pout and very much still partially sleep. “Can we go later?”

“No, baby. I—” This is inarguably one of the hardest things you’ve ever had to do. “I can’t go with you.”

And this is when you see her pout deepen. “Why?”

“Callie….” Hand on her face, you try to ignore the sound of your heart shattering. “You’re not gonna see mommy or be able to talk to me for a couple days, baby.”

And you knew, you knew before even opening your mouth that her eyes would begin to water that telling her this harsh but necessary truth would cause the reaction you’re starting to see. Her face is reddening, mouth dropped into a permanent frown.

It tears you apart to do this to her. “Baby, please don’t cry. It’s only for three days and—and you’ll have grandma, and—and auntie Alexis will visit you, and I’ll make sure daddy talks to you as often as he can—”

“But what about you? You’re my mommy.” She rubs at her eyes, crying harder. “Why are you leaving me?”

Pulling her into your chest, you swear to her, “listen to me, Callie, I will never ever leave you. Okay? The…the people who make sure little kids like you are safe and taken care of just want to make sure I’m a good mommy to you, o-okay?”

“But you’re the best mommy,” she cries into you, and a sob leaves your throat at that. Callie’s heartfelt tears, the fear and confusion in her little voice. It rips your heart to shreds. You hold her as long as you can before helping her get dressed and

gather a little backpack with a few items.

You know she already has mostly everything she’ll need at your mom’s already.

Everything except you.

Alyssa allows you to hold her as you walk down to the police car, but it’s when Officer Austin opens the door and Callie begins to cry, asking him, “please don’t take me from my mommy!” that you break again.

It’s impossible to keep your composure with your four-year-old child begging not to be taken from you. Pulling it together, you kiss her cheek and whisper in her ear, reminding her that you love her, and that you’ll see her again before she knows it. It’s the best you can do, it’s the only thing you can do.

Setting her down on the ground, you crouch in front of her, placing both hands on her cheeks. “Ms. Alyssa and this nice officer are gonna bring you to grandma right now, okay? I promise I’m gonna get you as soon as I can, baby, and no one will ever take you away from me again, okay?”

She doesn’t say anything, face still full of heartbreak. She hugs you again, holding on tight. “I love you, mommy.”

Voice cracking, you whisper, “I love you too, baby.”

Eventually finding the strength, you break away and stand up to see Alyssa wiping a tear from her eyes. She then forces a sad smile and takes Callie’s hand, leading her into the back of the police car. Even being buckled in, you see Callie continuing to look back at you, sadness morphing with helplessness.

And that’s the last view you’ll have of your daughter, looking hopeless and confused as to why this is happening.

But you know exactly why this is happening.

And you know exactly what you need to do.

“Y/N…..”

Alexis watery eyes are a brief view you have before dashing up the stairs and throwing open your apartment door. Shaking hands manage to grab you car keys off the kitchen island as you head back for the front door only to find that you can’t march out because Alexis is standing in front of the door.

“Move out my way, Alexis.”

“Y/N. You’re upset. Okay—”

Snapping, you shout at her. “Move! Now!”

She doesn’t hesitate to match your energy. “Not until you fucking calm down!”

Snapping, you scream. “She just got my child taken away from me, Alexis! Don’t tell me to calm down! I’m gonna smash her fucking face in!”

Never…..never in a million years did you think Mariah could be capable of something like this. That she could be evil as to call DCFS on you, make up lies so horrific that it sickens you to even think about them, and have your child ripped away from you. Damn what this has done to you. What about Callie? Was she even thinking about how traumatic this would be for Callie?

She’ll be thinking about it when you stomp her head into the fucking pavement.

“Hey! You have every right to be upset, okay? But, this is probably what she wants! She knows they’re not gonna find anything on you, but you go over there and beat her ass, it puts the spotlight on you and then gives them a basis to question your fitness.” Alexis is such a sound voice of reason right now, but it’s hard to heed when your literal heart has just been ripped from your fucking body. “You need to focus on doing what you need to do to get Callie back, okay? Call Joe—”

Joe.

You hadn’t….you hadn’t even thought about him. How can you explain this to him? Explain to him that your child, the child he just found out about not even six months ago is now technically in custody of DCFS because of your friend. Is that even forgivable? Beyond that, how crushing is that going to be for him?

Eyes watering, you shake your head, volume a few octaves lowered. You feel like you’re about to have a panic attack. “No, I can’t—-I can’t tell him.”

Alexis steps to you, placing her hands on your face, centering you. “Yes, you can, and you will. He needs to know, and you need support right now. I’m here for you, of course, but that’s the man you love. You need him.” Her expression then darkens. “And don’t you worry about Mariah. I got that hoe. Believe that. You don’t have to put a hand on her. Imma do it for you.”

Alexis words do both everything and nothing for you. Granted, you’re not sure if anything will be substantial enough short of having your child returned to your custody or all of this being some sick joke.

You’re not even sure when Alexis walks away to grab your phone until she’s reaching it to you. “Call him, sweetie. I promise you he’s not going to blame you. He’s going to be upset for the same reasons you are: because this is all bullshit. But please, Y/N, just….call this man.”

Finally taking the phone, she nods with a small smile. She then goes to remove her earrings and pull back her hair. “I’m gonna go curb stump this hoe.”

Alexis goes to the back, and you just stare at your phone. You once thought calling Joe to tell him about Callie’s existence would be one of the hardest phone calls you would ever have to make.

God, you were so wrong.

Trembling fingers tap on the phone to bring up his contact, and with tears streaming down your face, you hit call.

Whether for better or worse, he doesn’t answer, forcing you to leave a voicemail message.

“Hey.” It’s a fruitless and meritless effort to keep your voice strong when you feel anything but. “I–I need you to call me as soon as you get a chance….please.” Hitting end, both you and the phone drop on the floor. On your knees, you finally release the sob you’d been holding in for the past twenty minutes. Moments later, Alexis is besides you, comforting you.

Not that it does any good.

There is no good left.

Only pain.

#roman reigns x black!oc #roman reigns x black!reader #roman reigns fic #roman reigns #arisnotebook

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chvnnie · 11 months

Text

here. take this dad chan.

week seven

Something feels…off.

The bathroom is oddly dim. A light flickers above the mirror, dull enough that it doesn’t bother you but definitely noticeable. Your legs are bouncing, belt buckle blending in with the cheers of the crowd. Five minutes until they go out. Ninety seconds until you know.

Is this something that can wait until the end of the show?

Tucking the evidence in your jacket pocket, you exit the bathroom. Into the nearly empty waiting room — only your husband and Changbin left behind. He’s fixing his friend’s ear piece, Chan’s head tilted to the left to give him better access.

“Hey!” He says with a smile when he sees you, reaching out. His hands are a little shaky; they always are when they’re about to preform. The gold wedding band catches the light, sparkling under it.

It reassures you. This is what is supposed to happen right? First comes love, then comes marriage.

Some would say step three is way overdue.

You grab his hands, moving into his body to give him the hug he desires. Chan’s arms are firm around your body, peppering kisses along the side of your face—

“Stop moving.”

Chan smiles sheepishly. “Sorry, Bin.” He moves his head back into position. “How are you feeling, love? You still look a little pale.”

Now would be a good time to tell him. Your gut is screaming to do it now, to get it over with before the word vomit comes out like every other meal you’ve had lately. Do it. Do it before he walks away, tell him now—

“There we go.” The younger man claps your husband’s shoulders, giving him a light shake before stepping away. “All ready?”

“Yeah, give me a second.” His hands fall to your waist, pulling you in for a proper hug now that he’s not Changbin’s doll. You melt into his touch, the jewels from his outfit rubbing against your skin. It feels nice.

You almost feel guilty, the weight of everything about to crush you.

“Hey.” Chan says softly, grabbing your chin and tilting your head back. His expression is so soft, so gentle. The man you’re madly in love with looking at you with beautiful stars. The trust unending in his dark eyes. “Talk to me. What’s up?”

Now. Now tell him now. Tell him before he’s busy for three hours, unreachable as you stew in your new reality. Now. Tell him now—

“Nothing.” You say with a smile, leaning up to kiss him quickly. “I’m okay.”

If he doesn’t believe you, you can’t really tell. The adrenaline of the show running through him already, his mind in a million different places.

“Come help me change at the ment?”

This really isn’t something that can wait.

“Yeah, of course.”

But for now, it will have to be.

week ten

In. Out. In. Out.

God, pregnancy cramps are worse than period cramps. Somehow.

You’re curled in the bed, knees pushed up and a hand cradling your stomach. There’s no bump yet, no outward signs yet. Just a bunch of weird pains and feelings that you don’t fully understand. It’s normal, you’re told by your doctor. You’ll get used to it.

That doesn’t make it that fun, though.

Chan said he would be home by now. There’s a comeback on the horizon, so it’s no surprise he was in the studio late tonight. But he promised you when he left that he would be home before you went to bed.

You’ve been a little extra needy lately. Who would have figured?

It’s hard to be upset with him. It’s not like he knows yet — when have you had the time to tell him? Between tours and a comeback and all the other million things he does daily, you haven’t had the chance to bring it up. Besides, it’s not like you’ve told anyone other than your doctor yet. So it’s not like you’re hiding anything from him.

Right?

Your phone buzzes near your head, a photo from your honeymoon lighting up the screen. Chan looked so sweet that day; his skin sun-kissed, curls laced with seawater, making them even more prominent. It’s your favorite picture ever of him. You’ve never seen him happier.

“Hey.” You say groggily into the phone. You tap the speaker button, not bothering to bring it to your ear.

“Hi, my love.” He singsongs into the phone. “I’m sorry it’s late, but I’m getting ready to wrap things up here.”

“It’s okay. When will you be home?”

“Hmm, an hour? Maybe?”

There’s so many things happening in your body. In your mind. And sixty minutes feels like an impossible entirety. Three, two, one and the tears are flowing in earnest. You take a shaky breath, letting the sob that’s been building all day release. You can’t do that, you can’t wait a single second longer.

You need Chan like you need to breathe.

“Woah, what’s wrong?” Your husband sounds so concerned. It’s easy to picture his scrunched face, the little pout of confusion from your sudden outburst. “Why are you—“

“Come home now.” You sob in the phone. “I can’t, Chan, I c-can’t—“

“Okay. Okay, I’m leaving now.” The door slamming in the background proves it. “Is there anything you need—“

“No.” You shake your head, pulling the sleeves of his hoodie over your hands. “J-just need you.”

“I’m coming, love. I promise.”

You pull his pillow into your body, burying your nose into the center of it. He washed his hair before bed last night; the shampoo is still heavy on the silk cover.

In. Out. In. Out. Breathe in smell of oak, finding peace in knowing your comfort will be home soon.

Light pours into the dark room, your husband hurrying over to the bed. You’re facing the edge, still hidden in the pillow though your tears have stopped. Chan crouches by your head, warm fingers peeling your colds open.

“Hi, baby.” He says softly, intertwining his fingers with yours. “I’m home.”

You peek out from behind the pillow, eyes burning red. Oh, the guilt is painted bright red on his face. He must have ran out of the company building. Sped through the city. Did he even turn the car off before he leaped out of it? Shut the front door?

Chan didn’t stop until he was in front of you. You need him? He’s always right here.

“I’m sorry I’m home so late.” He apologizes, pulling the pillow down a little more. Wanting to see you better. “I know you weren’t—“

“I’m pregnant.”

His mouth is open, the words he was going to speak lost in the air. He blinks, head shaking slightly as the weight of your words hit him hard. You’re surprised his balance wasn’t lost. “You—“ his hands loosen their grip a bit, shock making his body run cold. “There’s—you—wait—“

Your lip is wobbling, new tears stinging your eyes. All you can do is nod. Over and over, confirming the question he’s unable to ask.

“You.” He gasps, tears now rolling down his face. A bright smile breaks out, a little laugh sneaking out. “You!”

Chan climbs onto the bed and grabs you, pulling you into his body tightly. Back and forth he rocks you, laughing into your shoulder. It’s unbelievable, exciting, terrifying. All the emotions you were feeling now reflected in your person, who can’t seem to start crying.

“Oh my god.” He says, pulling his head out of your shoulder. His hands cup your face, beaming so brightly at you, you might go blind.

A beanie covers his curls, though a few peek through. The gold earrings catch in the light of the television, though nothing could shine as brightly as his smile. His cheeks must be hurting.

Never mind. This is the happiest you’ve ever seen him.

“How far along are you?” Chan asks when he can finally form a sentence, the words coming back to him.

“Ten weeks.” You say, a hand mindlessly going to your stomach. “So not very far.”

He nods, his own hand following. Together, your hands lace over the nonexistent bump. “How big is that?”

It’s such a Chan question, you can’t help but giggle. “The size of a prune.”

“So small.” He mumbles, looking down between your bodies. “What foods have prunes in them?”

You blink. Out of all the things you expected him to say, this was the last on your list. Actually, it didn’t even make the cut. “I don’t know. Why?”

“Well, we should eat something with prunes to celebrate!”

It’s the cutest thing you think you’ve ever heard, your heart swelling as you cup his face. “Should we make something every week? To correlate with the size?”

The idea hadn’t even crossed his mind. You can see it in the way his eyes widen, lips parting in a bit of shock. “That’s a great idea.”

#skz fluff #stray kids fluff #bang chan fluff #chan fluff #dad!skz #dad chan #dad bang chan

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swiss-mrs · 2 months

Note

Can you write a second chance a love with SY. He and reader were exes and tension has built up where he can’t help but kiss you and profess that he still misses you. Thanks!

Second Chances

Captain Syverson x GN!Reader

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: Mentions of Failed (Military) Relationships, Mentions of Fighting/Regretted Words Exchanged, Slight Sexism/Toxic Masculinity/Trad Views, Self-Doubt, Slight Depression, Sy is Able to Lift Reader, Angst with Happy Ending (As Requested)

Reader/Unnamed OC Description: No Physical Descriptions, No Mentions of Race, Height, Weight, Ethnicity, Etc., Age is 25+, Sy is 35+, No Use of Y/N, Only You/Your Pronouns, Mentioned as “darling" and "beautiful", otherwise gender neutral.

Life is… fine. Wake up. Go to work. Come back home to your apartment. Eat. Sleep. Repeat. There wasn't really anything to complain about, but there was a notable loss. The only thing is now you're just used to it.

In the beginning, it was always the little things, someone passing with a similar cologne, a specific food brand at the grocery store, a familiar street you no longer pass by as often. Eventually, the watery eyes tamed to a pang in your chest. Now, it's all just numbness. Even with friends, your smile makes appearances again, but the happiness doesn't quite reach your eyes the way it used to. It's been so long, they just stopped mentioning it, but you still notice the occasional pity look.

It's a crazy thing to think about how you've lived more of your life without him than you have with him, but that doesn't lessen the effect.

You'd survived your childhood, your teenage years, and early twenty-something without him. After meeting the most handsome man you'd ever laid eyes on, you'd be foolish not to reciprocate his advances. Though you shortly had your skepticism after finding out his occupation, he was quick to assure you he was no quick trip, and ultimately, you caved.

And he for sure had you, for years in fact. He had you completely believing every one of his ‘I love you's and ‘forever's, yet here you are, missing the way he'd fill up the space in your life.

You'd had a life before him, a decently fulfilling, single life until he showed up and screwed that all up. He wasn't necessarily your first ‘love’, but he was definitely your first ‘true love’. And, now, you were feeling the effects of that loss.

The first thing that hit you after your split with Sy was anger, pure reactivity to how everything ended. How dare he call you ‘too much’. How dare he try to pull the whole ‘you signed up for this’ bullshit. He had the audacity to make every problem your problem. Fuck him for making your ‘forever’ just another failed military love that should've known better.

You were soon to block him, not wanting to hear any of his ‘I'm sorry's or ‘can we talk's. You'd already talked, talked a little too much. You were done. ‘Let it die’ was your mantra for months. He ruined you, had you looking in the mirror different. You couldn't talk to anyone, express yourself, ask for help, be vulnerable without seeing it as annoying, dramatic, ‘too much’. Maybe, it was just you?

You took it upon yourself to change, distance yourself, drift away. Was it just you? No one made a comment about how they suddenly heard from you less. Were you really too much?

For a long while, you wished he'd cheated, abused, something, anything to make you hate him. Could you really hate him for it? You didn't work out. That's not his fault. He didn't understand you, and a couple of rude words weren't nearly enough to hate him. He was ultimately a good guy. He was never unfaithful, never would even dare to think of laying a hand on you, but when it was all said and done, he was a bit neglectful. But, how much of that was him, and how much of it was his job? Oftentimes, it was hard to distinguish. Too often was it an excuse.

Did he love you? sure. Could he have loved more? yes. Too often did it feel like he was one-sided. You were there for him, not the other way around. You are his, not the other way around. You needed him, not the other way around. And to have that shoved back in your face when you brought it up was not the right reaction. He shouldn't feel like an animal cornered when you brought up a concern, something he did that hurt you, but he did. A valid point shouldn't be shot down or argued with counterpoint, but it was. Now, you can only second guess yourself, and that shouldn't be how it is, but it is.

You loved too hard, that will haunt you. He loved too little, and that will forever haunt him.

He hated himself. You were everything he ever prayed for, a beautiful partner with a beautiful smile and a beautiful soul, someone he could have forever. He didn't realize that the thought of ‘having someone’ was wrong of him. He was selfish. You never did anything but show him your heart, your mind, and he blew it up in your face. He destroyed something, someone so beautiful. A day hasn't passed that he wasn't filled with regret. He couldn't even smile or laugh anymore. He became scary.

He'd lost the one piece of true happiness in his life, and it was his fault.

He craved you. He needed you, but he was too late. Why couldn't he have realized what he had sooner? Appreciate you like you deserve. Love you like you deserve. He knows he has it in him, but he just couldn't. fucking. see. it. He wants to kick his own ass for it. He desperately wants to turn back time, go back with the mindset he has now, or at least beat it into his past self.

He'd gotten too damn comfortable being in the military. Vulnerability is weakness. Why would he use his words? Why think about anything, decode? Feelings are best buried. He's a man's-man, and a man only needs to protect and provide

He believed that ideology never gave him issues until you. You challenged that ideal. You asked him for his thoughts, his feelings. You wanted to know. You cared. It annoyed him. Why the fuck would he care? Sure he had thoughts and feelings somewhere, but he pushed them down. Why bring them back up? You surely had too much time on your hands to be concerned with what he was thinking. You wanted connection. He knows that now, but what is that going to do for him now?

He immediately felt the effects of your absence. He was deployed when you left your shared home. He watched you leave on the security camera, car packed to the brim. Sure, he had felt a type of way about it then, but then he was only apologizing for the sake of it. He was just another man in the wrong. Apologize to your upset partner, make up, and move on, but oh, was it so much more different now.

He was filed to the brim with remorse. Even then, he had visions of your shared future, retiring or climbing ranks to settle in one place, building a family, a home, preferably on a large, secluded plot of land. How he looks on with different eyes at that ‘future’ now. He never truly believed in all that ‘grass is greener’ ‘know what you have ‘til it's gone’ B.S. until he'd lost you. He gets it now.

It wasn't until that switch was flipped for him to realize you blocked him, excommunicated. He was gone so much that he never got a chance to build any sort of relationship with your friends. It irritates him now that he is probably known as just the shitty military ex. The closest thing he has to you is a friend of a friend of his who is a friend of a friend of yours. At first, he'd rather die than try to reach out to you that way, but now, there was no line, no bridge he wouldn't cross to just get one more moment with you.

He'd been stewing on it for the last year and a half. You'd moved and blocked him. It seemed utterly hopeless to reconnect, but something came up recently that has him itching again.

He's been promoted. A good job, good position, and in one place. It was perfect. The start of your ‘forever’ together. The only thing missing is you. Friend of a friend² be damned. He had to fix this, and just his luck to find you. Just your luck to be found.

It took several minutes for you to lay eyes on him, but he spotted you immediately. The second you walked through the door of your new favorite café, he saw you. He couldn't believe it. He originally pulled himself into this place because it simply reminded him of you. It had you written all over it. He felt closer to you here. He wouldn't have guessed you would just walk in like this. His eyes followed you as you stood in line and ordered.

He noticed you glance around the café briefly and still not spot him seated at a back table facing the exit. His heart raced, seeing your eyes wander before going to your phone. He knew that look, though. You were only fidgeting with it, trying to make yourself look busy to avoid any social awkwardness. It made him grin as he stared longingly. There were some things that didn't change.

It had been a whole two years since you last saw Sy, about eight months since you stopped seeing him in every stranger. You weren't going to back track now, so you stared down blankly at your phone to keep yourself from staring at the familiar looking guy in the corner. He was missing a thick beard and a shaved head, but with a quick glance, he looked an awful lot like heartbreak.

Sy knew he was on borrowed time, the chances of you sitting alone in any kind of restaurant was slim to none, and considering you weren't looking for seating meant you were grabbing and going. He had to think of something and fast.

His body was standing, and his feet were moving before his mind could catch up. It wasn't until he was about two feet away that he stopped and started panicking. You noticed the man standing in your peripheral, but you kept your head down to avoid any awkward eye contact. That was until your name fell from his lips, causing you to look up from your phone.

“Sy?” Your eyes widened and your brows furrowed together. Your heart immediately started blasting in your ears. You couldn't breathe. You'd thought about running into him again, about all you wanted to say to him, telling him off? apologizing? But that was before your move, before you forced him out of your mind. Now, you were face to face with your anxiety and dreaded nightmare. Your name was muffled from his mouth and to your ears the second time.

“Hi. How have you been?” He wanted to punch himself in the face for how casual that came out, but he quite honestly couldn't think of anything better to say without falling over his own words. He awaited a response from you, but you only stared like a deer in headlights.

You genuinely couldn't hear a word coming out of his mouth. Was he talking? He had to have been. His mouth was moving, but it was like his voice was muffled. Something you assume was your name came out again before your name was called a bit louder by a different voice behind you.

You whip your head around to find a perky barista with a drink in hand, looking in your direction. You scurry over to her and take your drink with a curt thank you, as polite as you can muster in this moment. Without even a second glance, you're making a rushed escape for the exit. Your name is called again, but you're tunnel visioned on the door out.

Sy's stomach tightens and drops at the sight of your flee, but again his body is in full control at this point. He's utterly in shock. He didn't know what to expect, but this was his chance. All he knew is that he couldn't let you leave, not again, so this time, he chased after you.

As soon as you're out the door, he's right behind you, having to catch the door from slamming on him. He calls out for you again, but you don't stop, so he keeps running.

It's once you're passed the café windows that he finally catches up. He reaches to grab for your arm but quickly changes his mind to just step in front of you instead. “Wait! Please, darlin’, wa-”

“Don't call me that.” He's taken aback by the sudden words but retracts nonetheless.

“Please. Wait.” It was at this point that you both have fallen silent that you get a good look at him. His hair has grown out of its ‘tactical buzzcut’ and into a pretty generic cut that was redeemed by the dark curls atop his head. His beard was now trimmed down to only some scruff and a mustache. It was an odd combination of seeing him with more and less hair than usual, but he was just as handsome as ever, unfortunately.

The pause between you both was long. Though it should be awkward, it was also strangely comfortable or rather empty. Being in each other's presence again was like putting on an old hoodie. It was cathartic and familiar, but the memories, the history, was hard to get passed. Your name falls from his lips again, a lot softer and barely there. Your eyes were trained on his face, unable to look away. His were downcast.

“I… I….” His eyes close as he takes a deep breath in an attempt to gain some composure. His bottom lip juts out a bit as his mouth tightens into a little frown. “Please, I need to talk with you.” He opens his eyes, encapsulating your gaze in his.

The sight of his eyes outside of your memory is enough to empty your brain of any thought, so you remain silent. But he needs an answer from you, so he waits.

“What is there to talk about?” You say. He can tell by the look in your eyes that you built walls that weren't there before, and it shakes him to his core. He did that.

“A lot.” He sighs, huffing out a singular humorless laugh through his nose. His face briefly quirks like it wants to give a smile to match the short laugh, but the overwhelming weight of the situation at hand just won't allow for it.

You stare up at him for a few beats of silence, both of your chests tight with anxiety. You've never seen him so close to breaking down. He's never seen you so blank. Neither of you really knows what to do, but eventually, your eyes fall from his face before you walk passed him.

Sy freezes. The world around him simultaneously crumbles and halts. His breathing completely stills. You don't get five steps away before you turn back and call after him, “You want to talk. I'm not giving you another chance to do so.” You say, expecting him to follow you. As soon as the realization hits, he moves with haste. He's beside you walking before you're even done turning back around.

It was a good two blocks before Sy spoke up. “How have you been?” He tries again, looking over to you as you walk.

“Fine.” You answer curtly. It makes Sy frown again. It's the kind of ‘fine’ you'd give a stranger, and he hates that that's what you've become. He feels a bit shut down but continues. This is his chance.

“Well, that's, um, good to hear.” He states, but the end of the sentence inflicts an upward tone, almost into a question.

“I wasn't for a long time, but now, I'm fine.” You add, and it's the hardest punch in the gut Sy has ever received. His jaw clenched as he nodded. He swallows, trying to carefully choose his words, knowing how much each one counts.

“Darlin-” He cuts himself off by correcting it to your name. He sighs again, “Please, genuinely hear me when I express how sorry I am.”

“I'm sure you are.” He glosses over your response, continuing.

“Look, I know I've said it before, but, in all honesty, I didn't-” He cuts himself off again, making sure he words it correctly.

“Didn't mean it?” You finished, a bit annoyed.

“No.” He's quick to correct, “I meant it.” He says, determined, “I knew that I had made you upset, and I knew to apologize for it, but I didn't really know the meaning behind it.” He admits. “I didn't understand.” He confirms what you already know. “I was foolish. Stuck in an old way.” He pauses with another frown. “I didn't understand why you wanted to dig into me. I didn't understand that you were only trying to connect with me, really connect. I got defensive. ” He looks up from the ground to your eyes with a sad, guilty look, like he's confessing. “I was stupid and didn't believe in sharing every part of me with you.” He slows his pace, forcing you to match until you're stopped in front of him.

You're facing each other as he continues with his confession. “I thought doing so would make me less of a man, but I understand now.” He gives you a quick, little, sad smile before it disappears into a guilty frown. “I understand that it was an integral part of strengthening our bond, our love. You'd show me every part of you in return for me doing the same, and we'd accept each other, every part.” He gives another sad smile that breaks your heart all over again. He looks down shamefully with a hard look on his face, “I understand now.”

You look at him with a sad pout. Half of you wants to give him a piece of your mind. Two years!? It took all that time to just now fucking realize what you were asking of him!? But the other half didn't know how to feel. What is he trying to do? Redeem himself? What.

“So that's it? You just wanted to give me an actual apology?” He can see that your walls are still up. He fixes his jaw.

“Yes, but,” He starts. He knew that you weren't going to just fall into his arms, but he still hoped it would be that easy to just pick up where you left off. He sighs with his eyes closed, this time shakily, nervous. It confuses you as you've never seen the Captain Syverson nervous. “I've been…” He stops short, pausing. Jesus, you never thought you'd see the day this immovable mountain of a man revert to the demeanor of a reprehensible child. “I know we can't pick up where we left off, and I kind of don't want to,” He tries again, this time getting a confused and slightly offended expression from you, “but can we, maybe, start over?” He looks at you with the most hopeful, pitiful puppy eyes you've ever seen, another thing you never thought you'd see from him.

The air forcefully leaves your lungs as all the progress you've made through the years to try and make yourself impenetrable leaves with it. Your chest tightens as you try to will the upcoming tears away. It's your turn to let out a humorless laugh. You shake your head, looking off into the distance, “You really hurt me, Sy.” You look back at him with the most heartbreaking expression. He nearly looks close to tears at the sight. “I'm too much. I'm needy. I expect too much.”

“No, no, no.” He stops you, stepping closer only to get you retreating from him. Your step back drives the heartbreak further into his chest. He shakes his head in utter disagreement, a disgusted grimace on his features. “You're not. You're. not. I was foolish and childish, and I was not ready for you.”

“But you're ready now?” You interject in disbelief.

“Yes,” He states firmly without hesitation. He steps up again. This time, your body visibly tenses, but you don't move away. “I'm more than ready. I need you.” He takes another smaller, gentler step forward. “I hate that it took you leaving for me to see that, but I do.”

“Sy-”

“Please. Please. Don't say it's too late. Don't say we can't try again. Please, just one more chance.” He looks down abruptly like a private who just got caught looking at a superior officer. He's begging. He knows how he hurt you and your trust. Like a dog showing its belly, he's trying to show you his submission. Ultimately, it's in your hands, but he's determined.

You stare at him while trying to decipher the mess in your mind. “Sy.” You say a bit more calmly. His demeanor doesn't change. You sigh, “How do I know you wouldn't just fall back into old habits? What if, even after all this, you just repeat the same closed book bullshit? What's different?” You try to find his eyes, but they remain downcast as he stays still.

“I've been promoted.” He states a bit detached, purely stating fact, anything you want from him. “I'd no longer be in the field, no longer deployed. I'd be in one place.” He purses his lips into another right frown. “It's the start of what we used to talk about.” He says, words laced with hope and nostalgia. “Remember?” He tests, voice as soft as silk. Your eyes sadden even more, looking down with a miniscule nod. “I can settle down. Stop putting myself in the line of fire every day. I'd come home to you every night, wake up with you every mornin’.” His eyes soften as they peer up at you through his dark eyelashes. “Get that dream house.” He raises his brows with soft eyes and a sigh of a grin.

“Sy.” He quickly follows with your name before you continue. The gentle way your name rolls off his tongue makes your heart race at a concerning rate. “I,” you sigh, “I can't just run back to you after all this time.” You scoff out a sad laugh.

“So, let's just start with a date.” He tries again softly, melting your heart in your chest. “No pressure, no expectations, just one do-over.” His eyes flutter softly as his eyes return to their submissive downcast. “A reintroduction to the people we've become. A second first date.” He concludes. You can't help but let out a soft giggle despite trying to hold yourself together. Though it's sad, Sy has never heard a more beautiful sound. His chest swells with hope.

It takes time for you to make up your mind, and he gives it to you. Your everything was already screaming at you to say yes, but you couldn't let him know that, so you took your time. “Okay.” You cave. Sy's brows shoot up, and his face breaks out into a huge, mouth agape smile. The image of pure, overjoyed surprise.

He can't help himself but close the distance between you and scoop you in his arms, twirling you around, with a victorious laugh. The shock of it all and contagious joy causes you to let out a small giggle. He looks up at you in his arms and drops you down enough to plant a kiss on your lips. Though quick, the kiss was filled with nothing but longing and love.

As if realizing what's happened, he's quick to gently set you back down and take a step back, returning to the same distance you were at prior. He is a bit awkward with his hands before setting them on his hips. He still has a bright smile on his face, “I,” he huffs, “You have no idea how you've just made me the happiest man to ever exist.” He tries to just quickly move passed what just happened. “So, could I, maybe, get your number?” He says, trying his best to contain his joy.

You laugh, admittedly a little awkward. “It's the same one.” You fidget, “I can, uh, I'll unblock you, as long as you have the same number as well, I mean.” You stumble. He nods.

“Yeah. Yeah, it's the same one.” He sighs, content. His eyes are filled with admiration and adoration, like you hung the moon and stars single handedly. It was everything you ever wanted from him to see his love within him.

You quickly pull your phone out and unblock his number on the spot. “There.” You shoot him a quick text. Even after all this time, his tagname never changed in your phone. You hear his phone ding moments later, and he pulls it out with an even brighter smile and a sigh of relief. He never thought he'd see your name pop up in his notifications again. Once again, it's always the little things that are missed.

“Are you free this weekend? Friday night, maybe?” He asks. You give him a small smile and a nod. “Great! Great, I'll- I'll pick you up? We can get dinner after work and…start over.” He sighs. He's both a little sad and over the moon. He wants nothing more than to do a quick catch-up and just start pouring his love into you, but hey, beggars can't be choosers. You give another small smile.

“I can't wait.” You say. He nods curtly. “You can tell me all about your new job.” His face brightens at you, showing interest in him again. He steps forward to stand beside you, holding out his elbow.

“Let me walk you to your car.” You breathe out a small chuckle before hooking your hand in his elbow, taking back to the café parking lot. Just a few paces in, Sy leans in closer to you to whisper in a low tone, “I know we're going to go slow, but I just want to say… I missed you.” You look into his deep blue eyes before looking down at his mustached lips.

“I've missed you too.” You whisper back with a small smile.

The remainder of the work week, Sy was notably different, even getting some teasing comments from coworkers. Your friends tried tearing into you, asking why you suddenly looked like the life returned in you, but you kept your lips sealed. You were taking things one step at a time with Sy.

The most anyone got was “I have a date.”

____

I hope you liked it! Thank you so much for the request, Anon! I hope I did it justice. (sorry it took so long. I've been a bit under the weather😅)

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