#and growing up and moving out did wonders for my relationship with my mom but seeing her be ‘Mimi’ has healed it even more
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
beanfanclub · 3 months ago
Text
watching my sister become a mom and watching my mom become a grandma and watching myself become an auntie has healed something so deep inside me I didn’t realize needed healing
3 notes · View notes
luvyeni · 7 months ago
Text
LUCIFER ✦ ( 02z series masterslist & intro )
Tumblr media
pairing ‎⸝⸝⸝ demon!02z x female!reader
𓄷 warnings 𓈓 murder (sunghoon has a back story and your grandma had some problems). death. supernatural themes. pwp. some angst. some fluff. will add more if needed...
genre. smut mdni. supernatural au. demon au.
nia's notes. a few weeks ago i got an ask to do a fic based on lucifer— so why not make it a series? the song gives me demon vibes idk why, but i hope everyone who reads it will like it,, all the fics will have bits and pieces from each other, but you can read stand alone if you want. ENJOY!!!
(🎧) ...playlist: lucifer ( 02z ), fatal trouble ( enhypen ), bite me ( enhypen )
TAGLIST. ASK TO BE ADDED !
Tumblr media Tumblr media
THE DEMON IN MY CLOSET ...
wc. 6.1k+
synopsis. a week into moving into your deceased grandmother's mansion; everything goes smoothly; you've gotten most of your grandmothers things out of the house; still wearing the necklace you found everything is going good— except the door to your closet that won't stay closed.
𓄷 warnings smut mdni. mentions of abuse. mentions of death. oral (f. receiving). unprotected sex. softdom jake.
STATUS: READ HERE
Tumblr media
THE DEMON IN THE KITCHEN ...
wc. 5.2k+
synopsis. sunghoon didn't want anything to do with you really; the only reason why he agreed is because jay had the upper hand on his vote. he hated your grandmother, he wished he could avoid you forever— so why is he currently sitting in your kitchen wondering why you've come home late?
𓄷 warnings... smut mdni. mentions of murder. sunghoon actually hates you. attempted murder ( twice ). reader likes some weird stuff. sexual tension. oral ( m. receiving ). rough sex. degradation.
STATUS: READ HERE
Tumblr media
THE DEMON IN MY MIRROR ...
wc. 4.7k+
synopsis. he watches you through the mirrors of the house; watches how you interact with the boys, even sunghoon. he's enchanted by you; you're meant to be his; theirs, he can feel it— knowing that your time is almost up here, it's time he finally introduces himself.
𓄷 warnings jay is half human. mentions of a curse. jay is guiding her in her head. exhibition kink? mutual masturbation. oral ( m. reciveing ). unprotected sex.
Tumblr media
STATUS: READ HERE
FOREVER OURS ...
wc.
synopsis. it's your last week here; you have a decision to make; will you put the necklace away leaving them behind— or will you start your new life in the city; not with your parents but with three new demons???
𓄷 warnings foursome, oral ( m & f receiving ), unprotected sex, breeding kink, rough sex , double penetration, lots of cum, heavy degradation
Tumblr media
STATUS: READ HERE
you were freshly graduated from college; you should be spending your last summer as a non working adult having fun with your friends— hell doing an internship for your future company; anything really, anything would be better than this. because instead of doing any of that; you were stuck going to the middle of wherever emptying out your dead grandparents mansion.
“I didn't know the lady.” you tried to complain about it to your parents. “Mommy, this was your parents, why can't you do it?” your mother and her mother; your grandmother, never really got along growing up; your grandmother never approved of your father, so it put a strain on their relationship, which resulted in your mother moving out and moving to the city. She then married your dad and had you a year later.
you met your grandmother; well your grandmother met you, because your eyes were barely open, having been on earth a month when your mom came back home so your grandparents could meet their only grandchild, your mom told you that was the last time you saw your grandparents— they did send christmas presents, and birthday cards with a hefty check in it. “I didn't know anything about her except she was extremely generous when it came to money.”
your grandfather passed when you were five, that was the last time your mother went back, for his funeral. Instead of going into a home, your grandmother chose to stay in the huge home; by herself and live out the rest of her days, which she did; she died in her room, being found by her caretaker in the early morning.
The funeral was small; and you were being nice by saying that— it was only you and your mother; your father didn't bother to show, the lady didn't like him. Why would he bother? After putting her in the ground next to her husband, your mother was ready to put that part of her life to rest finally… that was until you got her will in mail.
“Everything?” your mouth hung open. “She's giving you everything? I thought she hated you?” your mother scoffed. “she didn't really have a choice, she cut all her family off; and she would rather be buried with the money than to give it to a charity.” your mother said. “at least she left you some.” she pointed. “to my granddaughter— she couldn't even remember your name.”
That's how your parents were able to retire early, with the huge settlement of money and new house, they decided to settle down and live out the rest of their days in solitude. “So why can't you do it?” you said, your mother turned to you as seriously as ever. “she died in that house, she was a spiteful woman, the type to find a way to become a ghost just to haunt me just in case I brought your father in the house” she said. “I want you to go up there and clear it of all her things and then we'll be up there in the early fall.”
That's how you found yourself driving up the extra long driveway to the huge mansion; the vines growing up the walls really added to the ghostly aesthetic. “she had a caretaker but not a gardener?” you parked right in front of the house, getting out of the car. “This house is scary.”
“Girl, we're having so much fun!” Your friend, Yeji, yelled into the phone. “really?” you said sarcastically. “I could totally hear you over the blasting music in the background.” you heard her giggle, before she told you to hold on. “Okay I'm alone.” The low music confirmed that. “Did you make it up there safely?”
You settled on a room, it was huge much like the rest of the house, unpacking the clothes you would need for the rest of the summer. “Is the house nice? Does it come with a pool?” You scoffed; “this house was made in the 1600’s , no it doesn't have a pool.” you said. “and it's okay, if you like creepy dim lighting and cold hallways even though it's 84 degrees outside.”
“Yikes.” she said, you nodded. “Yeah, this lady was loaded, but god did she not have any taste.” your face turned up in disgust. “Hopefully my parents will brighten this place up when they get here.”
After talking to yeji a bit, you let her go back to the party; at least one of you could enjoy the summer— meanwhile you had to find someone to eat. You weren't stupid the town was like a 30 minute drive out, so you made sure to pick up enough groceries to last you at least a week on your way here. Looking through the options, you settled on ramen; cause there was no way you were cooking anything else after a 5 hour long drive.
taking your bowl of noodles, making your way back to the room, you pass the many portraits of your mother as a child and a teenager— for your mother and grandmother to never get along, there surely were many; after making it back to your room, sitting the bowl on the nightstand.
Unfortunately there was no wifi, but you had data so that was good; you'd definitely had to change that wifi situation soon though, your mother was just obsessed with the Internet as you, there was no way she was coming here without it. Eating your noodles, scrolling through the stories with envy in your eyes, of all your friends enjoying their summers.
After finishing your food, and making yourself depressed; you decided to just go to bed, and start fresh in the morning— where you actually had to clean out her things.
The next morning you woke up at 11:30 feeling a little better than before, starting your day with a shower since you didn't have one in the morning; stripping yourself of your clothes, stepping into the warm shower, letting the water hit your skin, you let out a sigh of satisfaction; at least the water made you feel better.
after cleaning yourself; getting rid of yesterday, you stepped out of the shower, the foggy mirror in front of you. turning around to turn the water off— you turned around to face the mirror again. “what the fuck.” squinting your eyes, you rubbed them. certainly that wasn't a fucking person in the mirror. You quickly wrapped a towel around your body, wiping the fog off the mirror, your own reflection still there. “Great, not even 24 hours later and I'm already going nuts.”
You got dressed; deciding to finally tour the house— it was beautiful, despite the haunted nature of it; the furniture a bit outdated for your taste, but your parents will love it. you made your way to her bedroom; almost scared to go in— she died in there anyone would be scared. you pushed your worries aside, pushing the door open; walking inside.
The bed had been made after her passing, but everything else was still in the same place according to the caretaker. You started by stripping everything from the bed, throwing the sheets in the trash, emptying all her drawers; your mom said you could keep any jewelry she had, and she'll give the rest away to your cousins on your father's side. you then moved to her closet, separating all the clothes that you were keeping and the ones you were giving away, and finally the ones that you were tossing.
About 2 hours later you were done separating everything, putting the donation boxes in your car to take into town, throwing the clothes in the trash at the end of the long driveway. you kept a lot of things, turns out she kept a lot of clothes and her style wasn't that bad. “I’m gonna need a new suitcase.” you said to yourself.
You scrubbed everything down in her room; per your mothers request. “Yes mommy, I got rid of her ghost.” You rolled your eyes when she called to ask. “Great, is everything else okay?” you hummed. “Well despite the no wifi and being completely alone, yes.” You said. “Well we're still trying to sell here, we've found a realtor.” you let her go on and on, until she'd managed to talk for 2 straight hours— your stomach rumbling being the thing to interrupt the conversation. “Gosh love , have you eaten today?”
“I had some yogurt for breakfast.” you could hear her sigh. “It's 5:30 y/n and all you've eaten was yogurt?” She questioned. “Well I've been busy cleaning up your mothers home.” You said, she laughed. “Thank you, my daughter.” you mocked her. “Seriously honey, get yourself something to eat, I will call again.” you hummed. “And don't leave those clothes in your car, take them to the goodwill.” you nodded. “okay.” you hung up. “Really let's get you something to eat.”
After showering for the nights— luckily your eyes didn't create delusions this time, you settled on ordering take out, luckily someone was willing to bring you a pizza. “Thank you.” You handed the delivery guy the money. “Is this your new house?” he looked up. “My parents.” you said, he handed you the pizza box. “Scary.” was all he said before walking away. “Yeah.” You closed the door.
Taking your pizza back to your room; you almost made it back to your room— when you noticed the door to your grandmother's room was still open. “Hmm?” You were certain you closed it, you went to close it— but something caught your eyes on the dresser. It was a jewelry box. you don't remember putting that there; you don't even remember seeing it before.
You picked up the box, taking it with you to your room; sitting it on the nightstand. You finished your pizza; making an appointment on your phone to have wifi installed. “Sorry grandma, you might've lived in silence, but I need tv.” You finished the last bit of pizza, taking the box to the kitchen, returning back to your room, climbing under the covers; the wooden jewelry box still sitting on the nightstand.
You reached over, grabbing the box; it looked pretty old. You stopped admiring the details on the box; opening it. A thin silver necklace with a red and black pendant sitting in the box; it was the only thing in the box. You picked up the necklace, examining it. The necklace was beautiful, probably the prettiest piece that you took from your grandmother— yes of course you were gonna keep it, you wouldn't dare let your destructive ass cousins destroy something as beautiful as this. “Thank you grandma.”
You sat the box in between your legs, unhooking the necklace, placing it around your neck, snapping it. “Let's see.” you picked the box up, looking into the mirror. “So pretty.” You smiled, closing the box, sitting it back on the nightstand, yawning.
reaching over; you turned the light off; pulling the covers over your body, touching the pendant one last time before you fell into a deep sleep…
So unaware of what you had just done; who you just awakened, what you just invited into your life…
Tumblr media
©️LUVYENI
945 notes · View notes
saekkas · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
𝐖𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑
summary: your beloved son is a tiny, warmer version of your husband, itoshi rin, clingy and talkative without a care in the world. rin thinks you gave birth to a devil, one that won't let him spend time with you alone.
tags: 1.2k wc | f!reader | established relationship (they're married) | they have a kid in this | aged up characters | pro-athlete rin | kissing (nothing too suggestive), uncle sae makes an appearance
notes: happy birthday to rin itoshi q(≧▽≦q) also shout out to @okkalo because apparently great minds think alike
Tumblr media
"black or red?" you mumble, eyes raking down your own reflection in the mirror. "what would he like better?"
at 5 pm on the third friday of every month, you always run into the same problem: date night. itoshi rin, your wonderful and adoring husband of five years, has kept the tradition of taking you out for a romantic dinner and drive throughout the city.
it started on your first anniversary when he surprised you by planning a date at a five-star restaurant that's always fully booked. back then, you were both still fresh out of college with no money to your names and you always wondered how he paid for the cheque.
fast forward years later, with your job as a top marine biologist and his as a renowned soccer player, your college romance seems so far away and yet, it's only bloomed into something far beautiful.
"dad says he likes both!"
you turn around at the words, a grin spreading across your face as you watch your bundle of joy run into the room. his legs are wobbly, and his hair is a dark mess on top of his head but the sight of him barreling straight towards you never fails to warm your heart.
"hello, my prince" you mumble, letting him bury his head into your neck. his hair tickles your skin, and you chuckle when he leaves a kiss on your collarbone. "did you have fun with your dad?"
"yeah! he bought ice cream then we went to the park to play soccer!"
he pulls away from you, bright teal eyes roaming over your face, staring as if he hasn't seen you for years when, in reality, it's only been a few hours. your beloved son is a tiny, warmer version of your husband, clingy and talkative without a care in the world.
"and then we-"
"alright, squirt. time for you to leave."
speak of the devil and he shall appear.
your head snaps towards the bedroom door, your grin melting into a soft smile as your husband steps into the room. rin wears a white fitted undershirt, obviously having changed whilst you were busy with your son.
rin moves, pressing a kiss to your cheek, one your son playfully blanches at, before trying to tug the small carbon copy of himself to where his brother stands at the door.
keyword: trying.
"but i haven't finished talking to mom!" your son whines, tugging his hand out of rin's. he trudges back to you, happily wrapping his arms around your leg, poking his tongue out at your husband. "go away!"
rin grunts, walking over towards you with a growing scowl on his face. "your mom and i have a date. sae's waiting to take you outside."
"well, uncle sae can wait!" the miniature devil in disguise tightens his grip on your leg, shooting a glare at rin before showing you his best puppy eyes. "i wanna be with mom."
"uncle sae can wait, i can't."
sometimes you wonder why the two halves of your heart can never get along.
they bicker, much like how rin used to with sae. whether it's in the morning, afternoon, or night, they'd find a reason to keep on getting on each other's nerves.
you'd be lying if you said it didn't amuse you, especially when you know that their hardheadedness stem from their love of you.
"well you should learn how to be more patient, papa!"
"she's my wife, you little squirt."
you laugh when rin finally reaches you, wrapping his arms around your waist, almost too territorial as he grabs his son's head, moving him away from you like pulling a toy from a claw machine.
"well, she's my mama too!" his small carbon copy huffs, slapping rin's hand away, all the while shooting him a glare. "you're so annoying!"
"okay, okay, that's enough," you sigh out, pressing a kiss to rin's cheek before pushing him away gently, crouching until you're eye level with your son.
you can see rin's disgruntled face in the corner of your eye. "your dad and i have a date tonight, sweetie. will you let us go, hm? i'll cook your favorite meal when you get back from uncle sae's. how about that?"
you watch him hesitate, twitching in his spot, occasionally throwing glances at his dad before he finally says, "i want that and kisses! cuddles too!"
you wonder where he learned to be such a good negotiator.
"okay," you mumble, pressing a soft kiss on his forehead before rin takes his hand, practically dragging your son to the front door where his brother stands, waiting with an amused smile. "be a good boy, okay?"
"wait, one more thing!" your little boy lurches out of rin's grip and you have to silence your laugh with a hand on your mouth, eyes crinkling in amusement at the fiery glare rin shoots him.
your son moves in, placing a kiss on your cheek before whispering cheekily, "you should make dad sleep on the couch tonight."
rin calls his name, muttering what you're sure to be curses under his breath, and you watch as your son moves towards him. only to completely disregard the hand rin has outstretched in favor of sae's.
sae nods his head towards you, one you copy before waving when he takes your son into his car for a weekend away.
"finally alone," your husband mutters, his tone deep and gruff. you can see the tension melt away from his shoulders when you wrap your arms around his shoulders, clinging to his frame. "i can't believe you gave birth to a little devil."
rin has always been touchy. it's a fact he's proven time and time again, ranging from your first date until this very moment of when he glides his hand through your hair, playfully tugging at your strands.
"you look beautiful," he mumbles, moving to nuzzle his face into your neck. he trails kisses down the column of your neck, and you sigh, having already experienced the sensation, albeit, a more innocent version, only minutes ago. "ready to leave?"
"hm? who are you and what have you done to my husband?" you chuckle, giggling when he retaliates to your words by nipping on your skin. you move your hand, playing with the hair on the nape of his neck. "i'm kidding. you know i love it when you're all clingy and kissy."
he places one final kiss on your neck before pulling away, his eyes taking you in. "stunning," the words leave his lips as a breathy whisper, and you smile at the hazed look in his eyes.
he looks breathtakingly handsome with his hair gelled back and his undershirt wrapped tightly around his frame. you help him pull on his tuxedo, neatly pressed by your own hands only a few hours earlier, as he recounts his day out with your son.
and finally, you watch, amused when he takes off your ring and his, setting them both on your vanity drawer.
"shall we?" the words are muffled against your ring finger, the limb feeling oddly bare. rin kisses every single one of your knuckles before pressing one final kiss to your palm, his lips warm and soft.
"we shall."
he intertwines your fingers, tugging you out of your home and into his car, ready to take sweep you off your feet, just like he once did all those years ago when he made you his.
3K notes · View notes
killerlookz · 8 months ago
Note
Hello my fellow Criminal Minds fan! 😊
May I please request headcanons for Spencer falling for a female agent who’s cynical about love and relationships due to being hurt in the past?
a/n: thank you sm for the request! i'd be happy to write this for you! :-)
Falling in Love Again | Spencer Reid Headcannons
Tumblr media
pairing: spencer reid x f!reader
content: mentions of reader having been cheated on in the past, uhhhh that's really it haha
word count: 1,478 (sorry she's so long)
Spencer Reid had always been excited about falling in love, the thought of being so close to another person- to share so much with someone was such a wonderful thing to him.
Especially after watching his mom and dad growing up, and the way his father treated her-Spencer was dead set on never becoming anything like him, he looked forward to treating a woman right and spending the rest of his life with her.
But, for as excited as he was he was probably 20 times more nervous about the whole falling in love thing.
So when you came around, and he started to experience that warm, creeping feeling in his chest- he felt a little bit like his world was going to end.
Spencer had never made a move on anyone before, sure he did make out with Lila Archer that one time but he didn't exactly initiate it.
Spencer decided just to channel all of his romantic interest in becoming friends with you, at least he got to spend time with you, that's what really mattered to him. Maybe one day it would turn into something more.
Well.. he hoped until he couldn't help but overhear...
"I went on my first date in months last night, and all this guy did was talk about himself the entire time- didn't let me get a word out, I mean, can you believe it?" Emily says, exasperated
You look up at her as she stands in front of your desk, "Oh, trust me Emily, I can believe it." You shake your head
"I mean," She throws her hands up, "What is it with men? What's wrong with them."
"Everything," You smirk, "They're men. I can't remember I had a good experience with one of them- never maybe?" You laugh. "I've given up on dating."
Your words sunk into Spencer's brain, leaving him with a heavy feeling all around he felt awful- not just about the fact that his chances with you seemed to reduce to zero right there in that moment, but because of how upset you seemed under your sarcastic exterior, he could tell you'd really been hurt before.
A few weeks later you're out for drinks with Emily, Penelope, Morgan, Spencer, and JJ. Amidst the loud, drunken conversations and music at the bar- you can hear the faint chiming sounds of your ring tone, Who would be calling this late?
As you take your phone from your pocket, your stomach drops when you see the number flashing on the screen. The mere sight of those 10 digits making you want to throw your phone to the ground and stomp on it until nothing remains.
"Ooooh, who's that calling." Morgan smirks
You look him dead in the eyes and respond flatly, "My ex."
Morgan's smile doesn't fade instead his smirk seems to deepen, "You two got a little thang goin on?"
"No," You shove your phone back in your pocket, "More like he's trying to get back in my pants after cheating on me- twice."
"Ooh!" Morgan responds, wincing, "So he's a dog."
"A pig is more like it." You scoff, "Who does he think he is. I can't even imagine giving my time to another man again, and even if I could- what makes him so confident I'd give him the time of day."
That familiar heavy pain hits Spencer again.
He's staring at you, and it's like the rest of the bar doesn't even exist. Only you, as you bite your lip, trying to hide any emotion in your face.
Spencer has become good at reading your emotions, maybe it's because he spends so much time with you- maybe it's because of how often he finds himself staring at your face. As much as you try to seem nonchalant, he could tell how upset you are.
Spencer would spend more time than he wanted to admit fantasizing about treating you well, about giving you the love you never seemed to have.
Every time you made a snarky comment about love, or how men had treated you in the past Spencer would want so desperately bad to just tell you about how well he would treat you, how he would never ever hurt you, how he would spend his entire life taking care of you.
The words were practically scratching up his throat, begging to be let out. But still, he would just swallow them down, and give you a sympathetic look, he couldn't muster up being able to do anything more.
At the very least, Spencer's plan of becoming friends with you was working.
The two of you would become very good friends.
Spencer would learn everything he could about you, he would want to know as much as possible.
Not in a weird creepy way- but in a he just thinks you're so amazing he can't get enough of you sort of way.
Every time you and Spencer hung out he wouldn't be able to ignore that nagging feeling, the thought of putting an arm around you and pulling you close, of holding your hand in his, or placing a delicate kiss on your cheek.
The thoughts would eat away at Spencer, and he would only fall more, and more in love with you.
Still, he would lose more hope every time you divulged information about your prior encounters with love. He couldn't blame you for feeling so cynical it, not after what you'd been through.
Spencer would think about his mom, about all the wives Rossi had been through, about Hotch and Hailey, about you- he would wonder why love had to be so painful for some people. He was sure he would never hurt somebody he loved.
One day you're over Spencer's apartment, watching a rom-com, and you make a snide remark, "Oh, real love isn't like that." You scoff and roll your eyes.
Spencer doesn't know what it is, but something in him makes him respond, "It could be." He says meekly
You look up at him, caught off guard at his disagreement, "Hm?" you hum
Spencer wasn't able to take it any more, he hated hearing your cynical nature. He would need you to know how you deserved the entire world.
"Love- It can be like the movies." He affirms his stance.
"Not in my experience."
"I would give you love like that." Spencer would tremble as he makes his confession, so unsure of what would happen next.
He would be terrified of your reaction, scared he was about to mess everything up, ruin any future the two of you had together, and even worse, lose your friendship.
"W-what do you mean, Spence."
"I mean, you always talk about how you've been hurt before, and it just-" He takes a deep breath in, contemplating what he's going to say next, "I love you, y/n," He looks down at his lap, then back up at you, "I would never hurt you."
Despite the obvious passion in Spencer's voice, you were still hesitant about it, but everything inside of you told you to give Spencer a chance.
Spencer would insist on taking things slow, you were his first real relationship and he wouldn't want to rush things, for both his and yours sake. He wouldn't pressure you to put a label on things, or even say you're "dating"- those would come on your own time.
Spencer was determined to make you believe in love again, and he would do everything in his power to make sure you knew without a doubt how he felt about you.
Spencer would often get to work before you to surprise you with coffee and a breakfast sandwich, or a donut on your desk in the mornings.
He would insist on having a date night at least once a week, even if the two of you were on a case, ordering room service or finding a local pizza restaurant way late at night was sufficient, as long as the two of you got to spend time together.
Spencer would be hesitant about PDA or really moving too quickly into being too affectionate, still, he would frequently hold your hand, squeezing it tight when he could tell you were stressed or upset- either by a case or by life in general, he just wanted to give you that extra reassurance that he was there for you.
Spencer would really put the work in, he'd exert more effort than you had ever seen from any past relationship into even the tiniest things.
Spencer wouldn't mind though, anything he could do to reassure you that he loves and cares about you, he would do it.
Every little act of love and gratitude would be worth it to him.
He would savor and cherish every hug, every shared glance, every peck on the forehead, on the cheek, on the lips.
It was all worth it to him, every second of it- all he wanted to do was make you smile, to make you fall in love again.
Tumblr media
281 notes · View notes
wttcsms · 2 years ago
Text
it always leads to you ; sae itoshi
Tumblr media
pairing sae itoshi x f!reader  word count 2.4k  synopsis 5 times you can't escape the memory of sae + the 1 time he comes back. content contains ex boyfriend sae, attempts at moving on, second chances author's notes this serves as a prologue to my new mini multipart series here but could be read as a stand alone one shot <3
Tumblr media
zero.
Sae Itoshi breaks up with you five days before graduation, which is also six days before he hops onto a plane to an entirely different continent, and it’s seven days before your second anniversary. 
The worst part of it all, though, is that even across the world, you can’t seem to escape him.
one.
Smartphones, you discover, for all their artificial intelligence, still can’t keep up with the intricacies of human relationships.
At least, that’s how it feels. 
It’s been seven days since graduation, six days since he left the country, and five days ago, you were supposed to be celebrating your anniversary with him. A week. It’s been a week since Sae reverted back to Itoshi, a week since you’ve practically ignored every invitation from your former classmates (his friends before they were ever really yours) to hang out, and a week since you last texted him. 
Still, when you swipe through your phone, thumb hitting the search bar, your eyes flicker down to SIRI SUGGESTIONS.
Send a message to sae🫶🏻. 
You turn off your phone after that.
two.
You’re still number one best friends on Snapchat. It shouldn’t mean that much to you, but it does. It’s been one month since Sae left, leaving you, his little brother, and maybe everything else in Japan tying him down, behind. 
He’s still at the top of your best friends list, still the only one with the special emoji next to his user that signifies his status, still the common denominator in every single one of your Snap memories. 
You wonder if you should delete your entire account; start fresh, maybe.
(You don’t, though. It’s too much of a hassle, is what you tell yourself. What you know and don’t need to bother to say is that you’re scared he won’t be able to find you in case he needs you, and you’re still not ready to give up any scraps of Sae you have left of him, and you must be delusional because there’s a part of you that holds out hope that he’ll want you back because you’re still number one best friends — he hasn’t been Snapping anyone else.) 
three.
You run into his mom at the grocery store. 
You’re not sure how to react at first. All you know is that you see her before she sees you, and in that split-second, you had the opportunity to run as fast as you could, but you didn’t.
You’re not sure why. You can blame it on shock, or fear, or even admit that a small part of you craved an interaction with her because, by extension and some sort of delusional logic, connecting with her would be like connecting with Sae. 
She smiles at you, and your feet are firmly planted on the too-shiny tiles of this supermarket, and the shelves full of instant rice are closing in on you ‘til the world feels so small and all that’s left is just you and her and the tantalizing spirit of Sae. 
He takes after her more than he does his father. Growing up, he didn’t like hearing the adults say oh, you look just like your mother! because he’s a boy, and no boy wants to hear that. It’s the truth, though. When you originally spotted her, it was her distinct reddish-brown hair that caught your attention. It’s the same shade she passed down to Sae, and seeing the familiar color up close shouldn’t cause your throat to close up and to give your stomach nervous flutters, but it does. 
“[Name]!” She gives you one of her gentle smiles, and the warmth of it seems to unfreeze you. You can move freely now, and you choose to smile back at her. You’re not sure if she knows that her son broke your heart and that he did it so coldly and clinically, with the precision of a surgeon. Without feeling or remorse. You don’t know how to react properly when she closes the distance between you two to give you a hug, one that doesn’t indicate that she’s going to treat you like her son’s ex. 
You return the hug, of course, but when she pulls back to speak, you know that you should have just avoided her when you had the chance. 
“How are you doing with Sae’s move to Spain? You haven’t come by the house in a while. I hope you know that I miss having a daughter around.” Her soft laugh does something cruel to your soul. He didn’t tell her, then. She doesn’t know. You wonder if he maybe left that responsibility to you, if crushing his mother’s spirit was a burden he personally chose you to bear. You never knew he had such a mean streak in him.
“Sorry, Mrs. Itoshi.” The words taste bitter on your tongue, and you think the polite smile you give her is more of a grimace. “Your son and I…” Aren’t together. Broke up. No longer on speaking terms. 
You can’t even say his name, and you can’t admit the truth, and luckily enough, she was once a teenage girl too. 
“I see.” She says, and you wish she says it coldly. You wish she would view you as a stranger, so that way the split would feel more real. Instead, she’s telling you that you’re still welcome to visit their household any time you want. You know she’s not extending this invitation to be nice; she genuinely wants you to come by, and that only makes you feel worse.
four.
On the eve before you leave for college, your graduating class hosts a bonfire party on the beach. You originally don’t want to attend, but you know that being antisocial for the rest of your youth would ultimately do more harm than good. 
Almost no underclassmen are present, so you’re surprised that when you look up after hearing the sound of footsteps approaching, it’s Rin that’s standing near you.
Rin’s always been a little more awkward than his older brother. It’s endearing, in a way that all little brothers happen to be when you love them. Without your tie to Sae, though, you know that you can’t adopt Rin as your own sibling anymore, and you two haven’t even spoken since the breakup. 
“Congratulations on your graduation and getting into UTokyo.” 
“Thanks.” You smile at him, but you’re a bit confused as to why he showed up to a party just to congratulate you. Rin’s never been the type to attend parties, and you hope that he isn’t trying to get into any trouble with Sae’s brotherly guidance now gone. 
“Have you heard from Sae after he left?” 
Sae’s always harbored a soft spot for Rin; this you know for a fact. Rin sounding dejected at the mention of his brother only adds to your confusion. 
“Um, no. We don’t really talk anymore, actually.” 
Admitting this out loud now doesn’t hurt nearly as much as admitting it a few weeks ago did, so clearly you have some “healthy” progress going on. At this rate, maybe you’ll even be able to stomach the action of deleting his phone number. 
“Oh.” And then a minute later, Rin is sitting cross-legged in the sand next to you, two feet of space separating you both. “He doesn’t really talk to me anymore, either.” 
Oh, great. Now you’re basically having a pity party with your ex’s younger brother, and you two are probably about to have a good cry session about how he essentially abandoned you both. Who would have thought that rock bottom had a basement? 
You don’t know what to say in reply, so you don’t say anything at all, and the two of you just sit in silence, staring at the sun setting over the sea. Thirty minutes into the party, you couldn’t even fathom why you wanted to force yourself to endure social interaction with people you have no true relationship with, and you snuck off to the edge of the beach to just be alone with your thoughts. 
“Sae really likes the sea.” Rin breaks the silence once more. “I heard him talking to our parents when he called last week. He says the water in Spain is beautiful, and it makes him feel at home.” 
This beach is where he asked you to be his girlfriend. The moment your toes touched the sand, you were transported back to simpler times, where Sae was still Sae, and you were happy. He brought you here on your last anniversary (maybe it’s best to start realizing that it’ll be your only anniversary with him), and you sat in this same position with him, watching the sun set over the sea, basking in the bliss of young love. You suppose that back then, you really liked the sea, too. 
five.
Everyone has a type, you suppose. A preference for when it comes to selecting a partner. 
You’re still young and woefully inexperienced, but you’re a pretty, single girl on a college campus full of cute, single boys. The possibilities are endless.
So what are the odds that when you finally sit down on a dinner date with one of your classmates (your first date after Sae), and the two of you are doing the obligatory “get to know each other” first date icebreakers, your date tells you:
“I’m actually here on a soccer scholarship.” 
It shouldn’t affect you the way it does. It’s been nearly two months, after all. Soccer isn’t a sport exclusive to just Sae. Lots of people play the damn sport. It’s a fucking international sport, and a popular one, at that. 
“Oh! That’s cool!” You’re lying through your teeth, and your date can’t tell. And you shouldn’t hate him for it; he doesn’t know you, and he’s known you only from the first two lectures you two sat next to each other for. You know it’s absolutely unhealthy and probably unhinged to start comparing him to Sae, but you can’t help it. It’s like once the word “soccer” left his lips, he summoned the ghost of Sae, and his presence is now haunting you. He’s standing behind your date, and you can see Sae clear as day, maybe even better than you can see your classmate, and he’s shaking his head as if to say is this really the best you could do after me?
And you hate your date, and yourself, and Sae, and you know it’s bad. You know that you should have moved on by now, but it’s like he cursed you. As if everything in this world somehow has a connection to Sae, and it doesn’t make any sense, but sometimes it does because for a brief moment, Sae was the whole world to you. 
six.
You’re back in your childhood home for the long weekend. Your parents are ecstatic to have you back, and it feels good to be back in your hometown and sleeping in your own bed. College has done wonders for you, and maybe being in Tokyo has helped you heal. Everything is new and shiny there, and best of all, everything in that city has thankfully been left untouched by Sae.
There’s a cute boy that shares mutual classes and friends with you, and your best friend, Cami, keeps hinting that he’s going to ask you out soon, and you can’t help but tell her that if he does, you’ll gladly say yes. 
You think he’s going to mention something about wanting to take you out judging by the texts he’s been sending you ever since you’ve got back home, and you’re too focused giggling at your screen to even bother to check who’s knocking on your front door. All you do is open it, looking up briefly to see who it is, only to nearly drop your phone once you realize who’s standing on your front porch. 
Sae Itoshi is standing right in front of you. In the flesh. Not some figment of your imagination or a hyper-realistic delusional daydream. You know it’s him because you would have never anticipated him finally finding a haircut that suits his features. He looks leaner than before, angular features of his face now more defined, sharper. His cheeks have slightly hollowed out, and maybe you’re just projecting onto him when you think he looks more tired now than he ever did before. 
Your phone vibrates, signaling that you’ve gotten a text back, but you can’t focus on anything but Sae. There are a million different scenarios that have played through your head whenever you daydreamed about what would happen should you ever come face to face with him. There is nothing in your head now. 
“Hey,” he says, with a nonchalant audacity only a truly cocky bastard could pull off. The first thing he says after breaking your heart and leaving you in ruins is hey. In your head, you know you deserve better. Your heart, however, practically jumps at the sound of his voice, like a dog reuniting with its owner that’s been away from home for years. It doesn’t matter what he does or says: a small part of you, maybe all the parts that matter most, will always be fulfilled with having Sae’s attention. 
“Can I come in?” 
While trying to move on from Sae, you realize that leaving yourself ready to invite him back into your heart is essentially like leaving the front door of your house unlocked for him, because even though you know you’ve given him a key, you also know that he’s most likely forgotten he has it. It’s why you could never truly form any romantic attachments to anybody else; you were still too busy trying to leave yourself open for him. 
Now, in this moment, you finally have a chance to finally be rid of him for good. You have the opportunity to get the final word in. You can slam the door in his face, and he will never have the chance to be let in again because even if he holds the key, the locks have changed. 
That chance evaporates the moment you move away from the entrance, inviting him back in, and telling him,
“Of course.”
1K notes · View notes
steviewashere · 7 months ago
Text
Make a Home Out of Hurt
Rating: General CW: Death of a Grandparent, Mourning Tags: Post-Season 4, Post Canon, Grief/Mourning, Established Relationship, Alternate Universe — Future Fic, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, Sad Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Has Absent Parents, Steve Harrington Mom is Okay, Steve Harrington's Dad is an Asshole, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson Takes Care of Steve Harrington, Moving in Together
Had an evil little thought. Also, all these Fenton bunnies I mention are real! My nana collects Fenton. (She's alive, don't worry, but I thought about her the other day and it spiraled into this.)
🏡—————🏡 We’ve already seen this neighborhood, Eddie thinks, but won’t say.
Even though they have. They’ve driven by the same three houses. Yellow, pastel pink, and navy blue. White door, white door, brown door. Bushes and bushes and a bushel of red roses. One garage, no garage, no garage but large driveway. He’s seen them. Over and over and over.
And each time they pass the last one, the leather of the steering wheel squeaks. And each time, Steve makes a muffled sort of noise. And each time, Eddie wonders if resting his hand on Steve’s shaking shoulders would anger him or mellow him. And each time, the car gets just a little slower as Steve loses his control more and more.
We’ve already seen this neighborhood, Eddie continues to think, but knows he’ll sit here with those words. He’ll sit in the passenger seat. Window cranked as far down as it’ll go—half-way since Dustin busted the actual mechanism. Beemer’s been through a lot, so it’ll be here for Steve’s end all breakdown, too. With the radio volume low, playing the same double-sided tape on repeat, flipped by Eddie because Steve’s hands have been shaking: The World We Knew by Frank Sinatra. Because it was her favorite. Nana’s favorite. Nana Harrington’s favorite.
On the fifth drive through, Steve finally parks the car. At the end of the long, slow winding driveway. He looks out the windshield, hollowed and not quite here. With limp hands in his lap. Messy, greasy hair he couldn’t bother to style. Eye bags so heavy, Eddie barely believes he can hold them on his face.
Eddie can follow his line of sight. To the edge of the white picket fence, worn down a little with age, scratched up from the curled nails of an old brown dog, carved with her son and daughter-in-law’s initials, and eventually stained with yellow handprints from baby Steve. Yellow because, as Steve has echoed, “Lello, Nana. Lello like your dress. Your favorite!” Well, Steve’s favorite too, he just won’t acknowledge it’s because of his nana. Eddie knows that the paint has faded a bit since then, given that it’s been fifteen years since Steve’s had hands that small, but Eddie can see him. In his little white and red striped t-shirt, hidden by a pair of nicely pressed denim overalls, white sneakers, and his mom’s bobby pins in his hair—something she did because it just wouldn’t stop growing so fast and thick. Or so Eddie’s been told.
He’s been told a lot in the last week. Since the call came through the landline of their apartment. Since Steve had gone silent and collapsed to his knees and wailed, screamed even. Since he dressed himself in a suit that fit well, but looked out of place on his curled in body. Since…since the obituary was finally in his hands at the funeral, and he got so sick in the church’s restroom, Eddie had to drive them home in a daze—a quarter worried, a quarter tired, and half hanging by a thread. He thinks he’s heard everything, but what is love if not more than everything? If not all the words in every language, all known objects and unknown, every species and race and sexuality and identities combined?
He’ll hear everything. Until their old and grey and forgetting everything.
“There used to be a tire swing on that tree,” Steve states flatly, pointing at the weeping oak in his nana’s front yard. It’s crooked like it’s been kissed by the wind. A lot withering because the weather’s been harsh on her. Grey against the navy blue of the house’s siding.
I know, sweetheart, Eddie wants to say, so soft it gets lost between them. Instead, “Yeah? Bet it was a good tire, too,” he coaxes, still soft, all sweet. Even if he’s heard it each time they’ve passed by.
Steve nods once in his peripheral. Sniffs. “Yeah,” he states wetly, “one of the expensive ones. She didn’t want it to pop under me. Didn’t…She didn’t want me to stop using it.” His head dips down, looking at his fingers, where they’ve begun to absently trace the seams of his jeans. “I stopped,” he whispers shamefully. “You think she got mad because I stopped?”
“No, baby,” Eddie answers honestly. “I think that she was happy you used it at all. Think she was always just happy to see you, Steve.”
A sharp intake of breath next to him. “I used to come over here when my parents were gone. Or when they’d scream at each other. Or when…when they’d forget I existed,” he relays, quiet as a mouse. “When they’d forget, Nana would open the door and kiss my cheek and make me something to eat. I was always too skinny. So she made me casseroles,” he explains, a wisp of a smile. Gone in the blink of an eye. “She’ll never make ‘em again, though. She won’t—”
“Steve,” Eddie calls gently, a small warning. A siren before the tsunami. 
“—Love me again,” Steve sobs, “Nana won’t love me again.”
“Oh, baby,” he breathes. Eddie steps out of the car, rounds over to the driver’s side, and yanks the door open. Carefully, he unbuckles Steve, scoots him so that his legs dangle over the side, and pulls him down into a gentle hug. “Baby,” he coos. “Just get it out, honey. I’m right here. We’re right here. I’ve got you.”
And Steve cries. Again; though Eddie’s lost count. He squirms against Eddie’s chest. Head nestled to his neck. Crying big sounds that sound too large, even for his adult body. Sounds that carry boats, that poison with oil spills, that home orcas. He slobbers onto Eddie’s skin, grand globs of hot spit that gargle in his throat before launching from his mouth. His unshaved stubble scratching at the side of Eddie’s face—where his skin is sensitive and smooth and will most definitely be raw with Steve’s aching.
He sobs until there’s no more tears. Until he’s a whimpering, shivering mess on Eddie’s chest. Bunched up and small and fisting Eddie’s t-shirt like a lifeline. Squeezing the fabric in his hands like two lemons.
Eddie runs his hands up and down Steve’s spine. From the small of his back to his hunched shoulders, squishing him. He sways them ever so gently like the rustle of the old oak tree. Hums something incoherent and unrecognizable. If only to get Steve to stop shaking.
“Eds?”
“Hm?”
He takes a long, slow breath. Breathes out, “Why’d she give me the house?”
Eddie pulls them apart. One hand on the middle of Steve’s back, the other cupping his left cheek. Swiping at the tacky tracks from his tears. “I’m not sure, baby. Maybe she loved you so much that she wanted you to have it? To always be safe there?”
“Shouldn’t she have given it to my dad? I don’t…” Steve’s eyebrows scrunch in confusion, his mouth frowning. “I don’t deserve her house?”
“Sweetheart,” Eddie sighs. “She chose you for a reason. You, Stevie. Not anybody else. Just you. If she wanted to give it to her son, she would’ve. But she didn’t. She thought of you, put you in the will, and now it’s yours.” When Steve doesn’t respond, Eddie gives him his moment of silence. Running his palm up to Steve’s shoulders. Pressing his thumb into his supple skin. “You may never know her intent, but she probably had a reason. It was a home you came running to, where you felt safest, where you felt…loved. Grandmothers always have this air to them, like they just know things about you before you say ‘em. Maybe she just knew you needed her and her space before you even realized.”
Steve sniffles. His eyes are still wet. Bloodshot and tired. Rumpled all the way around, exhausted and quiet. “She used to play with me in the yard.”
I know, Eddie thinks once more. He goes with the topic change though, if that’s what Steve needs.
“And when we played hide and seek, she always made sure to look until I was found. Because she didn’t want me to feel forgotten, her words.” Steve’s fingers are fidgeting with one another again. Picking at his fingernails, peeling at hangnails. Eddie moves down and takes them, rubbing soothing circles into their backs, just so Steve doesn’t harm himself on top of everything. Steve continues, hushed, “When I’d stay the night, she would sleep with me. Hold me close to her. Scratch my back and scalp and tell me stories…all the way until I fell asleep.”
“Kinda like I do, huh?” Eddie asks.
Steve nods. “Yeah,” he croaks. “Think that’s why I feel so loved and safe with you.”
And Eddie hasn’t cried, not really, not yet. But this may be it. Because he knows, beyond everything, that Nana was special to Steve—so special that just one negative comment, one complaint, one little fuss about her was enough to get you shunned by him. He’s seen it play out with Dustin, he’d been banned from coming over for two weeks. And with El, who didn’t understand quite yet, but had lost conversational abilities with Steve for two whole days—ergo, the Silent Treatment.
This means something. It means everything. Eddie kind of wants to cry about it.
But he reigns himself in for now. Because Steve needs him like water. For somebody to just be there and be present and be patient. Through it all.
“You wanna head inside,” Eddie offers, “I’ve got the key in my pocket.” He gestures loosely to the inside of his vest, the safest pocket near his heart. When Steve nods, Eddie leads them inside silently. Opens the door first, per request made by Steve days prior. Sets his shoes by the front door—not told to, but just out of respect. Hangs up his jacket, his vest. Takes Steve’s jacket, too. Unties his Nike sneakers. Smacks a quick kiss to his cheek. And then he waits by the front door for Steve to say or do something.
The first thing he does is gasp. Eyes roaming the hallway, the living room, and the fireplace that connects the kitchen and living space together. He takes a few tentative steps before stopping in front of a tall, full China cabinet.
“Her Fenton bunnies,” Steve breathes.
Eddie slowly approaches behind him. Wraps an arm around his waist, tugging him into his side a little. “Are these the ones your mom was talking about on the phone?”
“Yeah. I just…Didn’t think my mom was telling the truth,” Steve murmurs. “She told me Dad didn’t want these. Takes up room or whatever. But they’re so pretty here, how could you not want these?” His left hand reaches for the knob of the cabinet. Twisting it gently as to not rattle the glass shelves. With the doors swung open, the bunnies under the cabinet’s lighting are free to touch. And so Steve picks one up, carefully in his hands like it’s alive. Maybe it is, Eddie thinks for a moment, alive with her spirit.
He breathes silently by Steve as he investigates the glass item in his hand. Running his thumbs over the ears. Down the smooth back.
“Satin glass,” Steve states, “It’s like touching the fabric, which is so weird. Nana used to talk about it all the time, but I never believed her. She never let me touch. You wanna?” He holds the bunny up to Eddie’s face. In offering, for him to pet. So he runs a slow thumb down its back. And sure enough, soft as silk, cold to the touch. “All of them are here.” He replaces the silk, purple bunny on the shelf. Picking up a chromatic shifting one next. “Carnival glass,” Steve explains, “it’s heavier than the other one, feels like. But so shiny. Think Nana used to say it was amethyst or something, but that might be what the color shift is called?”
“You sure listened to her well,” Eddie murmurs, “know a lot about this.”
Steve chuckles, a little choked to Eddie’s ears but he makes no comment. “Yeah, I guess I did. Mom used to say that I had selective hearing. That I listened when it was something I cared about.”
“And you cared a lot about Nana,” Eddie concludes.
“Yeah,” Steve whispers, “cared a lot about Nana.” He sets the carnival glass bunny back on the shelf. Standing idle in front of it all, taking it all in. “She has one upstairs, in a different glass cabinet. It glows green under the special blacklight upstairs. Said it was radioactive.” He chuckles again. “I gave her that one. As a gift for Mother’s Day in…I think ’77? Mom helped me pick it out—she was nice about the bunnies, about finding this stuff. She loved Nana, too. And she…” He laughs low in his chest and Eddie blossoms a little at the sound, unheard in so long. “Mom would pull out the long box of tissue paper and gift bags from the crawlspace. She’d unfold the prettiest gift bag—this one was a little brown one, covered in peach colored peonies. Stuffed some off-white tissue paper in that one. Wrapped the little yellow—well, it was supposed to be yellow—Fenton bunny in bubble wrap, covered it up with a bunch of caramels. Gave it to Nana, and she squealed! Apparently, she already knew it was radioactive? Thought it was the best gift ever. Which, ouch Nana, I gave you other bunnies for Mother’s Day, c’mon.”
Eddie snorts. “Maybe that’s what earned you the house? That radioactive bunny was probably the key to her heart,” he jokes. Though his stomach turns at the possibility it wasn’t appropriate to make.
Steve laughs loudly, though. Shaking his entire body with it. He slips his hand into Eddie’s back right pocket, sighs, and leans against him relaxed. “Dad should’a tried harder if he wanted Nana’s heart,” he comments, “all it took was a damn bunny.”
“Among other things, I’m sure.”
“Probably,” Steve sighs. “I think she was just excited to have a grandkid. She had a weird relationship with my dad. They didn’t get along very well. So maybe she was sorta…trying again?”
“Stevie, I think she just loved you. There doesn’t have to be some grand, deep meaning behind it. I think she just loved your company. How your laugh fills a room and your smile is seen from across the yard. And how you’re always polite, despite having reasons to not be. Maybe because of your terrible puns and how awful you are at quoting Shakespeare? You charm everybody, Steve,” Eddie monologues. “There’s not a reason to not love you.”
For a moment, the room falls completely silent. Distantly, there’s the slow tick of a wall clock. A few birds singing out in the backyard, where the bird bath probably is—only known through Steve’s memories. A slight hum from the radiator. The cars passing by on the main road just around the corner. Hawkins is quiet when there’s mourning; maybe it’s felt through the whole town, through the soles of Steve’s socked feet, from the beating of his ever love absorbent heart.
She died November 7th, 1993. Just a few days ago. Maybe it’s the anniversary of Will Byers going missing that Hawkins is feeling. Maybe it’s just tragedy. It’s love persevering—even in the most dire of situations. Where Joyce Byers was screaming about where her son may be, all those mismatched theories, and the ways in which the town thought she was crazy—even when they believed her and cried over her son’s body being pulled from the water. Where Will is actually thriving now. Where Sandra Harrington no longer is, though she was a fixture in several communities and families, Steve’s own being included.
“How’s your boy doing?” Wayne asked the day after her funeral. Eddie had shrugged, admitting he wasn’t sure because Steve had gone terribly quiet and sick. “Tell him I’m sorry. That he has a home with us. That he can come over and cry and I’ll make him hot cocoa. Alright, Ed?”
God, even Wayne knew. And there was silence after his condolences.
There is so much silence.
Until, finally, Steve asks, “Will you live with me here?”
“Wh—What?” Because surely he didn’t hear that right.
“Live with me here,” Steve repeats, a little more urgent. “I don’t think I can handle this place alone. And…I know how to use her gas stove. I can make you the spaghetti dish she used to make. And the casseroles she used to bake. We can open up her recipe box and I’ll teach you how to make her apple pie—the one she gave me for your birthday two years ago?
“And we can read your Lord of The Rings books on the porch on the bench she has out there? Grill in the backyard when we have everybody over. Robin can have the room that used to be my nursery. We can…We can live our lives here.”
Stunned, Eddie gapes momentarily. Before gripping harder at Steve’s waist, drawing him closer even when there’s no more room. Two solid bodies connected from shoulder to foot. “Are you sure, Steve? You don’t wanna—“
“You’re my family, Eds. I have loved you since that bullshit in ’86. We have seen each other through our absolute worst. Of course I’m sure. Of course I want you here,” Steve swears. “I know what I’m getting into. Even if it hurts to look around here right now. But you’ve been here by me through one of the worst heartbreaks I’ve ever experienced. I want you here—preferably always.”
“Stevie,” Eddie breathes. He reaches out with his free hand and cups the right side of Steve’s face. Swipes over his glistening cheekbone. Under his shadow beaten eye. The tickling brush of Steve’s bottom eyelashes on the tip of his thumb. And he kisses him tenderly, with every word he could ever imagine to say, all emotion he could ever feel, with an intensity seen in atomic bombs. He pulls back to see Steve’s eyes closed. Flushed and bright in the cabinet’s full white lighting, doors still open, and fragile glass bunnies as witnesses. Promises, “I want to, Steve. I want to be here with you. Through it. All of it. As long as I get to love you.”
And on his thumb there are fresh tears, gone cold but skin scalding. Steve’s lips trembling with silent cries. His eyelashes fluttering. Him and him and him. Beautiful and raw and open. Gentle like flowers and strong like wind. Aching and romantic and with a heart the size of the universe itself. Because Steve Harrington is everything—
Or so his nana has said. But Steve doesn’t know. And that’s Eddie’s own secret.
“Okay,” Steve mutters, “make a home with me, Ed.”
🏡—————🏡
192 notes · View notes
cillianhead · 1 year ago
Note
Heeyy, love your work💜 aaand I was wondering could you write dad's Bestfriend! Cillian and how your dad keeps asking Cillian to go on a double date with him and his wife since he's been single for a while, but Cillian doesn't want to and (you're at your house) or then somehow you and him end up in the same place later and talk about it? one of you confesses they're glad he didn't go cos they had feelings for the other and then things get heated 😉😉
Sorry if it's all over the place, I have so many little ideas in my brain rn lol
Thank you☺️
Thank you so much for your request, I've literally been thinking sooooo much about the idea of Dad's BestFriend! Cillian and how I wanted to write about it, I hope this is what you were looking for!
Enjoy <3
Illicit Affairs || Dad's BestFriend! Cillian Murphy x Reader
warnings: SMUT, age gap (Cillian is in his 40s, reader is in her 20s), taboo relationship, unprotected P in V, oral sex (f receiving), a bit angsty, having to hide their relationship, jealousy, some homophobic comments I guess?? (not from Cillian), general adult content!! (Cillian isn't an actor/famous in this also he moved to America... in this!) (Also this fic is quite long... so that's a warning!)
18+ Minors DNI
Tumblr media
Cillian Murphy was that charming Irish man who lived just down your street. He had moved there around five or six years ago, you couldn't really remember, it was when you were just seventeen. He had moved here in the hopes of getting away from his ex-wife back in Ireland and starting over. Your dad was incredibly welcoming to him when he first moved in and they quickly became good buddies. Your dad was into sports and drinking beer, cooking out on the grill, and all that classic dad stuff. Cillian enjoyed that stuff too but he was much more into the arts than your dad ever could be. You two bonded over that. Cillian taught you how to play guitar, you'd write songs together, you'd go to concerts of bands you both liked.
Now you were twenty-four, in your last year of college and Cillian was still around, you still got together and went to concerts or played the guitar together every now and then, though you were more busy now and so was he. You'd had a crush on him ever since you had laid your eyes on him but you understood why it was wrong, understood why he was off limits. You couldn't help but grow jealous though when you'd see him bring home women every now and then and then see them leaving in the morning. It wasn't an occasion that happened often but it got on your nerves regardless, you knew you had no right to feel that way. But it still made you feel sick to your stomach.
Of course, you'd had a couple of boyfriends, none of them were all that serious. You hated yourself for comparing them to him, knowing no man could ever compare to the man that Cillian is. Your dad was oblivious to your (not-so) little crush. You had to keep it that way, not that anything was ever going to happen between you but you knew your dad would be uncomfortable with the idea of you having a crush on one of his best buddies.
"Cillian's comin' over tonight, Y/N." Your dad popped his head into your room, you just nodded and smiled before he left. You still lived at home since you studied not too far from home, your parents were more than happy to let you live there for as long as you needed but you had plans of moving out soon, as soon as you graduated.
"Thanks, Dad... I already know that." You chuckled. Your mom was downstairs cooking dinner and you had also received text messages from the man himself, earlier that day informing you he was coming over, so you were very much aware that he was coming over.
Cillian: Can't wait to see you. It's been a while, kid. xxx
You'd read the message over and over and over again. Your heart fluttered each time you did so. You hated how he called you 'kid', you were a grown woman, you weren't a kid anymore. You really hated it because you knew you didn't hate it. In fact, the nickname made you all shy and giggly, it made you like him even more.
It was around six when your mom called out for you that dinner was ready. You had tried your best to look nice, for whatever reason that may be. It wasn't anything too crazy or too dressy but it was definitely nicer than how you'd normally dress when you had guests over. A small black skirt that was a bit risky with how short it was but you could definitely get away with wearing it and a tight long-sleeved black shirt, tucked into it. You could hear chattering from the dining room, the sound of Cillian's chortling made you smile as you entered the room to find yourself meeting the back of the head of an unfamiliar blonde woman, sitting next to Cillian, and making him laugh. Your smile had dropped.
"Oh, sweetie!" Your mom waved you over to the table, the food had been served, both parents sitting on either end of the table while you had to sit and face Cillian and this strange blonde lady. Was this his girlfriend? You knew it had been around a month or so since you'd last seen him but surely he hadn't gotten a girlfriend in such a short amount of time. "This is Cassandra... we've been friends since college, I thought it would be nice to introduce her to Cillian... I've always said how I thought they'd get along."
You just nodded politely, looking Cillian in the eyes to see the discomfort staring back at you. Cassandra was beaming, as any woman should be if she sat beside Cillian, you just glared as you prepared your plate of food. You remained civil, of course, nodding along to things being said and laughing extra hard at jokes your dad tried to make. But you couldn't get rid of the big fat elephant in the room, Cassandra. She was pretty enough, with long blonde hair (obviously bleached, you thought), and makeup done elegantly but it was a bit much. Lip fillers to the max and smooth botox-filled skin. But the thing was... her perfume was obnoxiously loud for a smell. It filled the room like someone had bombed the place with perfume-scented grenades and it absolutely ruined the food. You don't know how Cillian could just sit there, breathing in her perfume without vomiting all over the place. You were sitting across the table and it was horrible, practically on the verge of a migraine, how bad must it be having to sit right next to her?
You scolded yourself silently for trying to put down this woman in your head. She hadn't done anything wrong except breathe near Cillian. It wasn't her fault you had some sort of weird jealousy issues when it came to him.
"...What... what do you do for work, Cassandra?" Cillian asked politely before taking a bite from his fork, looking at Cassandra with genuine interest. That made your gut churn.
"Oh... well I actually work for the Catholic church just around the corner," Cassandra smiled. "I actually go around... um... telling people about Catholicism and its benefits, trying to get them to join." You took a sip of your wine with a cheeky grin on your face as you saw Cillian's discomfort with her response. You knew fully well he had no issue with people practicing religion but you knew how he felt for people to go around and shove their beliefs down people's throats. With the slightest bit of alcohol running through your veins, you found some courage to feign interest in her line of 'work'.
"That's really interesting, Cassie," You hummed delightfully, your parents looked over at you cautiously. You knew you had crossed a line by calling her 'Cassie'. "What are your thoughts on gay people?" The room went silent. The drop of a pin could be heard.
Her face went beet red at this question. Your mom gave you a disappointed look before faking a smile. Cillian looked amused before turning to Cassandra, everyone waiting for her response.
"I... erm...." She was looking around the room. Now maybe you had guessed wrong, maybe she was totally fine with gay people but you had a feeling her answer was going to be the complete opposite of that. "I think... if someone wishes... to live that lifestyle... then they should... keep it to themselves..." You cringed at that response. "I think God... I think God would not approve of... that sort of lifestyle." Bazinga. Cillian was immediately put off.
"I didn't realize you spoke for God himself." Cillian chuckled as he looked down into his glass of wine with that mischievous smile that mirrored your own. The two of you giggled at each other, Cillian seemed sort of relieved in a way that he didn't have to deal with this bozo of a woman anymore and your jealousy had disappeared along with the food on your plate.
Eventually, Cassandra left hurriedly. Your mom scolded you for being rude but you just shrugged it off. Cillian stuck around to hang out with your dad as you and your mom cleaned the dishes, you could hear them chattering on the back porch, probably about the latest baseball game or your dad trying to convince Cillian to come over one day for a barbecue.
"Go bring these to your father and Cillian, sweetie." Your mom hands a pack of beer which you take carefully as you nod.
Walking out to the back veranda, Cillian sat with a cigarette in between his lips. How could someone be so pretty? You sat the beers down on the small coffee table before turning back around to keep helping your mom but were quickly stopped by Cillian's hands curling around your wrist. Electric jolts ran through you with his touch. "Why don't you join us, kid?" Cillian hummed.
"Alright." You politely sat down beside him, he sat in between you and your father. It was a lovely summer's night, the crickets chirped and the sun was only just setting at almost nine at night. It was quiet and peaceful and warm. Cillian's presence especially helped provide that atmosphere.
You tucked your legs up into your chest, you and Cillian occasionally sharing glances at each other while your dad and he continued to talk about subjects that didn't capture your interest. Every time he looked at you, you felt like you could explode, his eyes so captivating and simply electrifying. "Here, love." Cillian passed the cigarette over to you, and you took a small drag. Your dad gave you a disapproving look but shook it off as you passed it back, letting out the bellowing smoke from the chambers of your lungs and mouth.
"Weird seein' my little girl smoking a cigarette," Your father grumbled, cracking open a cold one and handing it over to Cillian. "S'not right, you've grown up too fast." While he opened himself a beer, Cillian laid his eyes on you, sucking in the thick smoke of his fag.
You just rolled your eyes at your father's comment. "If it makes you feel better... the only time I have ever smoked a cigarette is when I've been around Cillian." You giggled, looking over at Cillian to see him tilting his head at you, playfully nudging you.
"Hey," He whispered. "Don't dob me in, kid!" His voice was low and husky, you felt yourself squeeze a little at the tremor his tone caused.
Grasping your lip in between your bottom lip you just shook your head as you leaned your head against the wall of the house, staring out at the sunset. You sat out there for a little while, sharing puffs of the cigarette with Cillian until your dad got up, grumbling somethin' about how he was going to help your mother. Leaving you and Cillian alone together. Alone.
"Your parents are pretty eager to hook me up with someone," Cillian said, breaking the silence between you.
"Yeah?" You sucked in a breath.
"Yeah," He took a sip of his beer, setting it down on the table before stretching an arm back and laying it behind you, his hand gently resting on your shoulder. You were flustered, being so close to him, in this sort of dim lighting. "Apparently, I'm goin' out this Saturday to go on a double date wit' your folks... and some woman named Naomi."
You bit back a scowl. "Oh... that's nice..." You lied through your teeth, Cillian just let out an amused huff. It gave off the impression he was irritated with something but you couldn't quite pick up on why he would be annoyed. He wanted you to stand up and tell him to stay, to tell him to be with you instead, he wanted you to be angry, he thought.
You knew who Naomi was. She worked with your dad, you had met her a few times. She was incredibly bright, charming, and nonetheless beautiful, ageing gracefully. Cillian and her were going to get along quite well, in fact, you felt yourself grow sad over the fact they would probably flourish as a couple. You and Cillian sat in silence for a little while longer, you didn't know what else to say. You felt ashamed that this wasn't just a crush you had, you harbored genuine and strong feelings for him that you knew he could never reciprocate. It was wrong. But how could you not want to be with him? He was the best man you'd ever met. Cillian was kind, he understood your silence, and he made you laugh until your ribs hurt. He comforted you like no other, without even trying and god... he was magnetic, the most handsome man you'd ever seen.
"She's not the woman I'm interested in though," Cillian groused, his fingers fiddling with the sleeve of your shirt, his thumb occasionally brushing over the bare skin on your shoulder. You turned your head to look at him with a frown. His face perfectly aligned with yours, hot breath on your face, his pale blue eyes lit up by the rising moon. You could kiss him at that moment... but you wouldn't. You shouldn't. "Y/N..." He took in a deep breath, and your heart raced, it seemed like he was about to confess something. "I..."
"Come on! Let me walk ya home!" Your dad stepped out, and you immediately hopped up and out of the seat, not wanting your dad to see the close proximity you and Cillian were in, not that anything was happening between you two. Not that your dad would see anything you were feeling at that moment. "Sorry was I interrupting something?" Your dad murmured obliviously, disappointment painting both of your faces.
"No... no... I'd better be goin'," Cillian stood up, brushing himself off before pulling you into a tight hug. "See ya round, kid." He whispered into your hair before letting go of you, he gave you a longing stare before turning away.
"Bye, Cillian..."
Your heart sank as you watched him go. Curiosity that ate away at you bubbled in your stomach. What was he going to tell you? Surely... it's not what you were thinking? Sitting in your room that night, you struggled to think about anything else. You hated the idea of Cillian meeting this Naomi woman and falling in love with her. You hated that you felt like you had some sort of possession over him, he wasn't yours and he never would be.
Stormy Saturday rolled around and you had no plans, you just watched your parents get ready for this double date of theirs as you wallowed in self-pity and the sky opened up, just as moody as you were. They pestered you on why you were so grumpy, you just shrugged them off, blaming it on hormones. With every step they took towards the door, your heart broke more and more. You wished them goodbye before sitting on the couch with a tub of ice cream to soothe away the pain. An hour went by and you figured the date had started by now, Naomi and Cillian were probably planning their marriage straight away and you would have to watch him give himself away, you would have to sit in the church pews and resist from standing up and screaming when the minister asks if anyone has any objections. You imagined yourself watching their first dance, watching Cillian stand up and tell the world how she's the most amazing woman he's ever known and that he loves her. You imagined having to congratulate him, you imagined growing old and alone, still just as in love with him as you are now. You groaned at your silly thoughts.
"Get over yourself." You said through gritted teeth, talking to yourself as you bit back tears.
You had some stupid rom-com on, only further reminding you of how painfully alone you were and how desperately you wished to be the one Cillian wanted. You were quickly pulled out of your thoughts by your phone buzzing beside you, quickly picked it up when you saw it was your dad calling.
"Hey dad, how's it going?" You asked with a casual hum, plopping another bit of the vanilla ice cream into your mouth.
"Have you seen Cillian? He's yet to arrive." Your dad sounded worried, he was never a worrier. "He said he was going to show up earlier but we haven't heard from him since... have you heard from him?"
"No, I haven't, is he okay... do you think?" You sat up fully now, setting the ice cream aside. It wasn't like Cillian to not respond at all for so long. If he wasn't going to show up, he'd at least let the people know. You hear a loud strike of lightning outside, shaking the room.
"I don't know, I don't know, Y/N, it's been an hour and a half, he should be here..." Your dad grumbles. You can hear the sound of your mom apologizing to someone else, no doubt Naomi was the person she was apologizing to. Sorry, your future husband hasn't arrived, you imagined her saying. "Alright, I'm gonna go, we're gonna stick around here for a little longer... call me if you hear from him."
The call ends and you're left with an uneasy feeling in your chest. What if Cillian was hurt? You tried to brush away that feeling, getting up and putting the ice cream back in the freezer and the spoon in the sink. A knock at your front door, as loud as the thunder outside made you jump about halfway across the kitchen. Who would be knocking at this time? Especially during this weather?
You rush to the door, the rain pouring out, the trees just about to be ripped out of the ground with how harsh the wind was and you open the door, scowling at the wind.
"Y/N." Cillian gasped out, he looked straight out of a movie scene. Soaking wet. He took a step in, dripping all over the place. His eyebrows furrowed together as he approached you.
"Cillian, what? What are you doing here?!" You exclaimed, shutting the door. "My parents are worried sick about you!"
"I...."
"Why aren't you at your date?" You interrupted, scolding him like a naughty child. He was shivering as he took off his sopping coat, leaving him in a white button-up shirt that was equally soaked. It didn't leave much to the imagination, with the already somewhat translucent material and the water leaking through. It stuck to every inch of his skin like cellophane, his nipples peeked through, his chest and stomach on full display. You stopped yourself from checking him out any further, growing flustered as you felt him corner you in the living room. He had a wild look in his eyes.
"Cillian?" You ask again, concerned. His hair was sticking to his forehead, his eyes locked on you. He didn't seem to really care that he was as wet as a dog.
"Y/N..."
"Cillian..." You repeated.
His eyes said everything he was thinking. Hunger, love, and deep untamed desperation. You winced a bit at the feeling of hand cupping your face. "I love you." He whispered and you gasped.
"Cillian..." You whispered back, hesitant to respond to what he just said. "Have you... have you had something to drink tonight?"
"I'm completely sober, kid," He grunted as he leaned in to kiss you, hot breath on your neck as you quickly turned your cheek to him. You pushed him away, you knew this was wrong. You took a step away from him, and Cillian gave you a look of hurt. "Y/N, baby, I need to tell you this. I have to know you feel the same way." His voice was shaking. The room shook with him, you sat down on your sofa and curled your body up into a tiny ball. "Look at me, kid, look at me." "Don't call me kid!" You yelled with tears in your eyes, finally looking him in the eyes. Cillian jumped a bit at the sudden outburst, it wasn't like you to yell.
"Y/N..." Cillian whispered, a look of hurt.
"We... we can't... I don't know... what's going on right now... but this isn't right... you're my dad's best friend..."
"And you're my best friend's daughter," He sat beside you, placing his hand on your thigh and the other on your chin, making you look at him. "But it doesn't.... it doesn't change these feelings... I have for you."
"Why?" You shook your head away, trying to hide the hot tears that slipped down your face. "Why would you have feelings for me? You could have anyone... and you decide me." "I didn't decide this," Cillian sighed, he leaned in and pressed his face into your warm shoulder. His cold wet hair tickles along your jawline. "But I want you... it doesn't matter... any woman could beg to have me... I'd still want you, Y/N. No one else matters... I need you." Your heart ached. It felt like Cillian had wrapped his warm hand around your poor heart and squeezed it until warm raspberry jam spilled out of his fist. You felt torn.
"Don't cry, baby..." His voice was low and every bit of you wanted to fling yourself at him, to confess your undying love, to run away to Paris with him and never come back. The way he called you baby was delectable. But you couldn't stop thinking about your parents, about the look on their faces if they saw this. "Y/N... baby..." "Stop calling me baby..." You cried, turning your face full of anguish towards him. Cillian's lip quivered, thumb swiping away your tears. "I don't... I don't get it. I just don't get it, Cillian... why... you? Why... me?"
"You are the most extraordinary person I have ever met, kid..." Cillian's petal-like lips whispered to you oh-so-gently. Your eyes locked on the way his mouth moved as he spoke. "I... I know it's wrong, I know I'm a fuckin' creep... for feeling this way for you... I'm old enough to be your goddamn father... I've known you since you were... just seventeen-"
"How long... have you... you known...?"
"Since you came home from your trip to California last year..." He replied all too quickly. "I saw you with that stupid boy... Kyle or whatever the fuck his bloody name was and all I saw was red... I didn't... I couldn't handle seeing you with him." You bit back a smile. "You're too good... for any of those college boys..." He grumbled. "A lady like you... she needs to be treated right."
You can treat me right Cillian, you thought. "I've never wanted them... the way I've wanted you..." "Fuck..." He let out quietly, biting his own lip in response. "You can't say things like that." His blue eyes were just a sliver of what they once were, pupils were blown wide as if he were high from just staring at you. "Most brilliant girl... fuck... that last gig we went to... I wanted to wrap me arm around you and kiss you silly... claim you as mine... but... I was too afraid."
"What gave you the courage?"
"I've just had enough," Cillian swiped another tear off your cheek. "Had enough of waiting... I can't wait any longer..."
"I can't wait any longer either... it's been eating away at me, the idea of you with anyone else. I just... I can't picture you with anyone else."
Cillian grinned at you, still shivering from his wet clothes. You put him out of his misery, connecting your lips. After all this time, what felt like an eternity, you kissed. The oxygen around you no longer mattered, you had each other to breathe in now. This kiss was not slow and romantic, it was violent like you were trying to consume each other, trying to see who could win in this cannibalistic fight. His hands grasped at your waist, pulling you onto his lap and wetting your clothes with his soggy ones.
"Take my shirt off..." He whispered, he didn't have to ask you twice.
You unbuttoned his shirt as best you could while it was wet before ripping it open and revealing his delicious skin. "You're so pretty, Cillian..." This moment was surreal. The man of your dreams, twenty years older than you, with crow's feet and grey hairs, and the most beautiful soul you had ever found, sitting in front of you with his body on display for you. Your soulmate. You both had known it for a long time now. Making out on your couch was unacceptable to Cillian so he picked you up and carried you upstairs with your legs wrapped around his slim waist.
He had been in your room plenty of times before but never for reasons like this. Never with the desire to rip all your clothes off and crawl inside you. Cillian closed and locked the door behind you before throwing you down onto your well-cushioned bed. You watched him slide out of his shoes and pull off the sticky shirt that draped off his shoulders. Now he was completely shirtless and was prowling towards you like a tiger to its prey. "Gonna take your clothes off of now, love, is that alright?" He asked quickly, fingers slipping underneath the waistband of your shorts. You nodded desperately, your brain lost in some sort of fog of disbelief and horniness.
"God..." You whispered as you helped him shimmy off your shorts and you pulled your shirt quickly over your head. Leaving you in nothing but some small boxer shorts. He grinned madly.
"S'pretty..." His hands slid up your waist until both hands cupped each of your tits in his hands. "Fucking hell, kid." You rolled your head back at him calling you that, groaning at how it turned you on and gasping as you felt his hot mouth latch itself onto your hard nipple.
"Cillian... oh my god!" Your fingers tugged on his hair before he pulled off of you with a pop.
His lips were quickly back on yours as he pulled down your shorts, now you were completely naked and he knelt down on his knees so his face was perfectly aligned with what was between your legs. Your pussy was already soaking wet for him, he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your clit. "You are the most beautiful thing..." He whispered, staring directly at your throbbing cunt. "And the sweetest." His mouth worked deliciously on you and as if his tongue wasn't already enough, he slipped a finger into you, fingering at your g-spot.
"Oh!" You writhed around on the sheets, thighs tightly locked around his head, wet hair sticking to your soft skin. He was truly devouring you, like a man who had been malnourished for years, he feasted on you as if you were his last meal. And when you came on his face, he moaned loudly. The orgasm crept on you and hit you out of nowhere, you couldn't hold in the noises that came out of your throat.
You were delirious as you lay there, whining as he continued to finger you. "Fuck... I could eat your pussy all night long, baby," Cillian panted, chin dripping in your juices. "But I've gotta be inside ya."
"I'm... on the pill..." You murmured out, he pulled his finger out of you, sucking it clean as he undid his slacks. He moaned lowly at your words, letting his pants and underwear fall to his ankles. Cillian carried you up until your head rested on the pillows now. It was romantic the way he was handling you, the moment was so intimate as he stroked his cock, lining it up with your wanting hole. "I've thought about this... for so long..." "Me too, baby." Cillian huffed, rolling his eyes back into his skull as he fit the head of his cock into your pussy, pushing the rest in there slowly but surely. You arched your back against him, whimpering as he pressed fully into you. "So good." Cillian groaned as he leaned down and bit down on your lip, pulling it away and watching it pop back into place before properly kissing you. You made out while he remained still inside of you, his hands on either side of your head as your tongues twisted together. The first thrust sent your body into a state of euphoria as he began picking up the pace, rocking his hips in and out of you. Your fingers ran scratches up and down his back. Your bed old and creaky, slamming against the wall as soon as he fucked you hard and fast while remaining still so painfully romantic.
"I love you," You gasped out. "I love you... Cillian!"
"I fuckin' love you so much," His head hung low, and you got the perfect view of him above you. His face flushed and his eyes fixed on your own face full of pleasure. "You're mine, all mine... and I'm yours."
"All mine..." You repeated with a moan, clenching around him, feeling your own high slowly begin to grow.
"You're takin' me so good," Cillian's praise made you throb, his grunting making you gush around him. "My good girl, my best girl."
The look of love in his eyes and in your own could be seen a thousand miles away. Your souls' grand reunion, your bodies becoming one, and your love finally coming out into the open, like a beautiful fruitful spring after a long and dark winter. "I'm close, Cillian."
"Cum around me, love, I wanna feel you come undone." "I want you to cum inside me..." "Fuck," He groaned, hips stuttering into you. "I'll give ya what you want since you asked so nicely." Your vision went white, ears ringing as your hot sweaty bodies pressed together, fitting so perfectly together. Never had anyone made you cum like this before. Your orgasm washes over you in foamy waves, like a stormy ocean hitting the shore over and over and over again. Cillian's rhythm slowed down as he rutted into you, warm cum filling you, and you felt so relieved, this was how it was always meant to be. His lips pressed sloppy kisses to your neck, moaning directly into your ear, both of you riding out your intense highs.
He stilled, letting a bit more of his seed spill into you before he hissed as he pulled out. Cillian lay beside you, wrapping an arm around you as shook softly, still feeling the effects of your own orgasm hitting you. His eyes examined you so gently, a dopey smile on his fairy-like face and his hair beginning to grow curly from how wet it was.
"Cillian..." You whispered, rolling over onto your side to look at him. "I love you." "I love you, kid." He whispered back, holding you like he had the world in his arms. To him, you were his world.
"We'll be okay, right?" "We just... have to keep this a secret... from your parents..." Cillian said, disappointment evident in his voice.
"Yeah... I know..." You pressed your face into his bare chest, loving the warmth. "Cillian... I wish you knew how strongly I felt about you."
"I feel the same way."
You shared sweet nothings with each other. Still, in disbelief, this was actually happening as you fell asleep with smiles on your faces, in each other's arms. Unfortunately in the morning, you'd have to suffer the consequences of your dad walking in on you and Cillian resting peacefully in your bed.
-
hi! sorry this was so long but i hope you enjoyed <3
also sorry if there are any major mistakes!
685 notes · View notes
morganski-19 · 30 days ago
Text
Chills Right to the Marrow Part 52
ao3 link| part 1 . . . part 49, part 50, part 51
Wayne had a bed. The “For Sale” sign in the front lawn of the Harrington’s house has a giant red “Sold” sticker. Boxes fill the trunks of cars, and all the lights go dim. Every speck of life from that house, what little there was, is gone.
They were ready to move on. Move forward. Together.
There was no going back once his truck left this driveway. This would be the last time that he would ever live in a house larger than his own imagination. Larger than his dreams could afford. Living here was never permanent, but it was safe. A space that he came home to and felt at peace. Knowing that his nephew was there, alive, that there were people that cared about them. More than he thought they should, but they did anyway.
It was unbelievable, really. Knowing how many people rally together to help people they barely know. How Wayne deserved that, how he was able to get it at all, he will never know. He’s still wondering when they will all up and leave daily. He’s been fighting on his own for most of his life, he doesn’t know what to do with the small army that’s rallied behind him. Behind Eddie. Any of it.
When the key turns in the lock of his new home, it feels like the first time. Like it knows that this time he walks through the door, it’s permanent. Tonight, will be the first night of his new life. Almost a fresh start. He can hold it in his hands, but it doesn’t feel real.
Steve and Eddie walk in a bit later. Steve with two duffle bags slung over his shoulders. Ever since Wayne’s known about them, they’ve hid their relationship less. Still a bit when the kids are around, but once you see it, you can’t unsee it. He still has his worries, but they seem to be working together. Figuring it out as they go. Trying, failing, and trying again.
He’s never seen them so happy. Not this kind of happy at least. As they walk down the hall to Eddie’s room, laughing about something that Wayne doesn’t even know, it makes him smile. It brings a light to this house that only makes it shine.
Wayne’s room isn’t anything special, plain walls and carpet flooring. But it doesn’t matter. He has a door. He hasn’t had one of those since Eddie moved in. He has a closet. A small closet, but a closet none-the-less. He has a space of his own, one he has no clue what to do with, but can’t wait to find out.
The bed gets made; his clothes get unpacked. It still looks so bare, but it’s growing. Everything’s growing.
For the past few months, it was one thing after another. Running so fast and hoping that everything was done right in between. There were so many mistakes, so many changes. So many things Wayne wants to take back but never can. His life changed, for worse, and for better. Funny how change can do that.
“Wayne, what pizza toppings do you want?” Eddie yells from the kitchen. He had to make it through several walls now, they weren’t in such close quarters anymore.
“The regular,” he yells back. Hoping it was loud enough to hear.
The first night is good. The three of them at the kitchen table, laughing. Ready for something new. When Wayne went to sleep that night, it was the most peace he’d had in a while. Every little worry he had was put on hold. Let him finally rest, so he can continue with everything else tomorrow.
The doorbell rings in the mid-morning. Dustin waiting behind it with a casserole dish.
“My mom sends her congratulations on the house,” he says, pushing the casserole in his hands. “I’d say this is the last of it, but that would be a lie.”
Wayne laughs, nodding for Dustin to come in. “I’m surprised you guys didn’t throw a welcome party or anything. Thought you would be the group to do that.”
“Eddie talked us out of it, said it wouldn’t be what you wanted.”
“Well, he’s right. Can I get you anything?”
He shakes his head. “No, I’m heading over to Mike’s. We’re doing this summer campaign that he made with Will and it’s taking forever.” He’s silent for a moment, before continuing, “I still can’t believe you guys actually moved.”
“Crazy how life moves sometimes, right? I’d never thought I be able to have a place like this.”
There’s a crackle coming from Dustin’s backpack, a muffled voice coming through.
“I gotta go, hope you like the casserole, but don’t let my mom know that unless you expect a dozen more.”
Wayne follows Dustin out, grabbing the morning paper while he watches him bike away. It’s crazy how he’s seen that boy become the shell of a person after that week, and slowly come back to the person he is. Not quite fully there yet, but close.
It’s even crazier how the boys eventually emerge from Eddie’s bedroom and get food. How Wayne can just faintly hear the clink of mugs as they get coffee. The crash of dishes as they make something to eat. The noise used to echo through their little space before, now is muffled by the wall that separates them.
“Paper’s here,” Wayne says when he enters the kitchen, tossing it on the table.
“Thank you.” Steve puts down his coffee to go and grab the paper, flipping to the ads about vacancies.
“Anything new?” Eddie asks, eating some cereal at the table.
Steve shakes his head. “Not yet, I’ll check the other ones when I go to work though.”
“Game’s on tonight, want me to tape it for you?” Wayne asks.
“That would be great, thank you.”
Eddie groans. “The fact that I live with two sports fans is something I never thought would happen.”
Wayne pushes off the doorway. “Well, you’ve been living with one for years, so I think you can learn to deal with it.”
He leaves them to their breakfast, looking around to find something to do. There’re a few things he found at the thrift store he’s still trying to find the right spot to hang. A new shelf, picture frames waiting to be filled, a painting he liked. All things to help him make this the place he always dreamed, even if it was already there.
At night, when the door closes behind him and he lays in his bed, he can still hear the movement in the house. The patter of feet as they walk down the hall and the creaks of floorboards. The thump of Eddie’s can or his crutches. The water flowing through the taps, and the music coming from the room across the hall.
All of it, everything, was more than he ever dreamed. The people that stuck by him, stood up for his family, are now his friends. A community that welcomed him with open arms. His nephew is getting better. Learning how to manage his new life, in all the aspects of it. A person who not only opened his doors for them, but wanted to stay even when there wasn’t enough to give back.
What started in uncomfortable hospital chairs landed him in a plush bed, in a house that is his own. Pain transformed into hope he couldn’t even conceive. Life moved, and he moved with it. Funny how it landed him here, happier than he’s been in a long time.
A laugh forms in his chest, and he frees it.
“What’s so funny,” Eddie asks, walking over to the couch.
“Nothing,” Wayne shakes his head. “Nothing at all.”
Note: Wayne's pov is now complete. One more chapter of Dustin's pov before we start the epilogue.
tag list (closed): @the-they-who-nerded, @insteviewetrust, @croatoan-like-its-hot, @jettestar,
@tinyplanet95, @steddie-as-they-go, @slv-333, @littlecelestialmoth, @thatonebadideapanda,
@fandomsanddeath, @marismorar, @wonderland-girl143-blog, @glass-bottle03, @gutterflower77,
@here4thetrama, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @jaytriesstuff, @cryptid-system, @manda-panda-monium,
@resident-gay-bitch, @anaibis, @xxsutherlandxx, @forevermineliv, @mugloversonly,
@gregre369, @n0-1-important, @different-tale-student, @spectrum-spectre, @tartarusknight,
@devondespresso, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @cheertain, @anti-ozzie, @autumncrocusandladybug,
@greeniebean911, @cr0w-culture, @stillfullofshit, @connected-dots, @daisynotquake,
@morgannotlefay, @a-little-unsteddie, @dolphincliffs, @maskofmirrors, @me-and-my-sloth,
@papergrenade, @waelkyring, @sweetheartprincess28, @katouasobj, @astercomoasflores
65 notes · View notes
paullahoteslittleangel · 3 months ago
Note
She works for embrys mom at her store and his mom is always trying to hook him up so when his mom is talking about u he says enough no more so when he’s visiting his mom he runs into u and his mom is ur guys #1 fan
Tumblr media
Working for Tiffany definitely was interesting considering she was always trying to set you up with her son. You knew him from school but that was it. Sure, he's cute and a sweet guy, but you weren't exactly interested in dating at the moment.
"Ya knowww Y/N is single. She finally ditched that asshole she was with" Tiffany says wiggling her eyebrows at Embry. He rolls his eyes "Knock it off mom. She's not into guys like me." Tiffany looks at him with a questioning look. "So, you're telling me you don't think she could be into the most handsome, sweet and charming guy on the rez?" Embry shakes his head "Even if she was, I'm sure she isn't looking for a relationship. Her and that guy were together since they were 17. 6 years mom that's a long time to be with someone." "Okay fine. I'll leave it alone.... for now." Tiffany pats Embry on the back before walking out the door.
~~~~~~~~
You walk into the store ready to start your shift. Tiffany said she was going to come by later in the afternoon to bring change for the register. You started working on your daily tasks sweeping and wiping down surfaces and small other things that you knew Tiffany would be too busy to get to. The small bell above the door rings "Welcome in" you shout from the back of the store. "Hey. My mom wanted me to drop this off. She got busy." You look up and make eye contact with Embry. He stands there holding and envelope. His expression changes and looks at you with wide eyes. The whole world felt like it stopped moving. The ringing of the bell at the front snaps you both out of your trance. "Thanks" you say nervously. Embry shoves the envelope in your hand and rushes out the door.
The rest of your shift you kept thinking about the feeling you got when you looked Embry in the eyes. You couldn't help but wonder if he felt it too. Your thoughts were interrupted when you hear the bell ring, you look up to see Embry standing there with one hand stuffed in his shorts and the other rubbing the back of his neck. "Can we talk?" he says nervously. "Uh Yea of course just let me finish closing up" you say.
"All done. ready to go?" you say with a smile. Embry nods his head, and you lead him out of the store and lock the door. He puts down the bed of his truck and you both hop into the back. "I'm sorry I ran out earlier. I kind of got a little spooked" he says with a small chuckle. "What happened? Did I do something to upset you?" Embry shakes his head. "No of course not. I didn't want to overwhelm you." You look at him confused. He lets out a long sigh "You remember the legends they would tell us at the bonfires growing up?" Of course you remembered. Growing up on the rez everyone knew the legends of the tribe. The wolves, Imprinting, all of it. "You imprinted on me, didn't you?" Embry nods slowly. You just start giggling earning a strange look from him. "Your mom is going to absolutely die when she finds out." Embry starts laughing with you. "You're right. she loves you. She literally has been bugging me to ask you out ever since you and that guy broke up." "Well, I guess she's getting what she's always wanted" You lean in and give Embry a passionate kiss. He hops down from the truck and stretches his hand out for you to take. "I suppose we should go tell her the news." Embry says while helping you down. You giggle "I suppose we should."
62 notes · View notes
tennessoui · 3 months ago
Note
3 or 60 for the Stacy's mom AU pretty please?
thank you for sending this in <3
[from this list of prompts] / [Stacy's Mom AU]
3. Do they wear the other’s clothes? (sweatshirt, bandana, necklace, etc.)
honestly as much as they'd both probably enjoy wearing each other's clothing, their styles and color choices are just so different that it's too noticeable and both of them are committed to flying under the radar with their relationship. the most they could get away with is probably anakin dumping his cloaks on obi-wan's shoulders at the slightest shiver from a slightly chilly day. obi-wan now owns like. 12 of anakin's cloaks. he has no intention of giving any of them back.
i imagine obi-wan attempts to give anakin a poorly carved jappor snippet after he reads about the cultural traditions on tatooine. it's really really ugly and it sort of looks like someone's hacked it to pieces and then set it on fire, but master skywalker takes to wearing it religiously.
also i think master skywalker's fascination with obi-wan's hair grows deeper now that he gets to play with it whenever he wants and lace his fingers through it, etc etc, and he takes a lot of calming joy out of playing with it at night if he's awake and obi-wan's asleep, which turns into braiding different sorts of hairstyles into his hair. obi-wan takes to wearing them around the Temple when he's awake - they're much fancier than the padawan braid and much, much more elaborate (because anakin can never do anything half-assed)
60. Who pulls the other closer when they’re sleeping?
lmao ok i think obi-wan's preferred sleeping position is with anakin draped on top of him which anakin is happy to accommodate. but anakin also runs hot, and obi-wan hates being hot in his sleep so anakin often wakes up to obi-wan-shaped fists and feet shoving him away (only to get cold a few hours later and pull him back closer as if he's not a jedi master but obi-wan's personal weighted blanket)
anakin doesn't really mind but he definitely fantasizes about retiring from the Order, convincing obi-wan to follow him, and moving them to some arctic snowy planet where obi-wan is always a little cold and never ever shoves anakin away during the night
snippet (pertaining to question 3)
At first, Obi-Wan is inclined to believe that Quinlan is doing this on purpose, out of some practical joke or in an attempt to tease him and prod at him as if they're still padawans. As if Quin doesn't have a padawan of his own now.
Obi-Wan blinks down at the young girl's upturned face. "Uh," he says, glancing up at Quinlan and resolutely not turning to stare at Anakin, who he can feel shaking with silent laughter beside him.
"Please," Orka adds, placing her hands behind her back. Not for the first time, Obi-Wan wonders how in the Force such a sweet child became Quinlan Vos' padawan.
"Uh, well," Obi-Wan says. "The thing is..." he stares hard at Vos, but the other man just looks expectant and slightly confused, arms crossed over his chest as he leans against the tall duracrete pillar of the fountain behind him. "I think actually Master Skywalker would be thrilled to help you with your hair, Orka."
Quin raises an eyebrow. "Seems unlikely," he mutters, just low enough for Obi-Wan and Anakin to hear. Obi-Wan flushes even as Orka stomps her foot.
"But I want you to braid my hair, Knight Kenobi!" she says. "You have the best hair in the entire Order, all the padawans think so! Please braid mine to look like yours!"
Obi-Wan winces. Behind him, he can feel Anakin's hair traversing up his back to tug teasingly at the end of one of his longer braids. It's incredibly unhelpful. So is the fact that his lover is sitting there and laughing about this whole thing instead of trying to find some way to be helpful.
"The thing is, Orka," Obi-Wan says, clearing his throat. "I don't. Ah. Know how to braid your hair."
Quinlan and Orka both tilt their heads to the side in perfect mirror of each other. It would be cute if Obi-Wan did not feel so incredibly close to humiliation.
"What, you can't figure out how to braid someone else's hair?" Quinlan asks with his eyebrows firmly knitted together. "I'd think it'd be easier than doing your own. Less need to be...you know. Flexible. To get it done. And I mean, I know you're flexible, but..."
Obi-Wan closes his eyes, even as he feels Anakin's chin come to rest on the top of his shoulder. Oh of course, he's no help at all when faced with a youngling's innocent request for assistance, but the moment Quinlan Vos even slightly alludes to his and Obi-Wan's shared sexual history, and Anakin has to say something.
"I braid his hair for him, little one," Anakin tells Orka, reaching out and tucking a longer braided piece of hair behind Obi-Wan's ear. "What Knight Kenobi is too proud to say is that he doesn't actually know how to braid at all."
Orka's eyes widen and she turns to look in between the three of them as if this is an incredible, total betrayal.
Quinlan's own eyes also widen, but he looks more like Life Day has come early. "Oh," he says. "Oh."
"Shut up," Obi-Wan snaps in forewarning. "Whatever you're going to say---"
"But it's always all pretty by breakfast!" Orka protests, eyebrows knitting together. "Do you braid his hair for him every morning? Even before you eat?"
Anakin's Force signature is far too smug. He's enjoying this far too much. Obi-Wan is far too in love with him anyway. It's terrible for his health and his pride.
"Sometimes adults like to have sleepovers just as the younglings do," Obi-Wan says delicately. "Just as the younglings do," he repeats loudly when both Anakin and Vos snort. "And yes, sometimes Master Skywalker enjoys braiding my hair. During those sleepovers."
Mostly, Anakin enjoys braiding his hair either in the aftermath of sex or sometime during the night when Obi-Wan is asleep and malleable and Anakin is kept awake by some nightmare or another. Mostly Anakin enjoys braiding his hair because it's the only sort of claim he can lay on him--not while they're both still Jedi.
And mostly, Anakin. enjoys braiding his hair because he spent years seeing Obi-Wan walk around the Temple with another master's braid hanging down his shoulder, and he'd hated the sight of it.
"Oh," Orka says. She considers this new information before she turns with narrowed eyes to Anakin. "So you can braid my hair."
It sounds like a threat. This time, it's Obi-Wan who has to cover his snort with a cough.
56 notes · View notes
byunpum · 1 year ago
Text
Quiet
Tumblr media
Pair: Neteyam X Human-mix (na'vi and human mix)
Warning: Smut, 18+, All the characters are adults, Fem!Masturbation, teasing, semi-public, needy teyam.
Note: This one-shot is written based on the relationship my reader has with neteyam. In my story "experiment 56" I feel it goes very well. If you don't understand some parts or relationship between the characters "READ HERE" the whole story. I know you will like it. Also if you want to learn more about my 'human-mix', you can read more "here".
Request: [anon]Hii! I was wondering if you could write a oneshot with NeteyamxFem!Human!Reader(Smut) and it goes somewhat like Neteyam being Touch starved and just wants to be around reader and it escalates from there?
Avatar masterlist
Tumblr media
You were aware of neteyam's growing need. He used to be affectionate with you, but these last few weeks he seemed to be begging for your skin to be on his. Holding you close, pulling you on top of him just so he could bury his face in the crook of your neck, taking in all your scent. Letting out a sigh, which seemed more like a moan. You would just squeeze his arm, giving him a little look. Moving your hips so that you were close to his crotch. Pulling you closer, and leaving kisses on your bare shoulder. He didn't mind being seen, because he made this move in front of his mother. You would pull away a little, you felt a little embarrassed. Neytiri was your mother too, you didn't use to show these actions in front of anyone. Maybe some kisses, and innocent touching. Not that he was practically rubbing himself on your ass, in front of everyone.
This day neteyam was more needy than ever. Having a heated make out session in any corner where he could get you. Rubbing his bulge on your ass, making you sit on his lap. Just so he could feel you, squeezing any part he could get his hands on.
The meal had been delicious, after the problems with the people in the sky, and your kidnapping. Clan life had changed a lot, and mealtimes were taken individually. Everyone was in the family hut. The atmosphere was calm and familiar. You held your son in your arms. Noah't was only a year old, and he was reaching for his father. Stretching out his little arms, but you could tell how distracted neteyam was. Your mate was staring at a fixed point, his tail wagging gently. Even his blinks were slow. He seemed to be concentrating on something, to take his mind off what he really wanted. You touch his shoulder, noticing how he was scared. He looks at you quickly, smiling. "yawne everything alright? Did something happen on the hunt?" you ask, you didn't use to go hunting lately. So you couldn't tell if anything was happening to him. "Mmm no, everything's fine. I-I'm fine" neteyam speaks, you can see that swallowing hard. Now playing with the fingers of his son's hand. "If you need anything or anything is wrong you can tell me" you try to get some kind of information out of him. He laughs, and moves closer to you. Bending a little, to give you a kiss on the forehead. "yawne … I know" you can tell his pupils were dilated.
You feel one of his hands, holding on to one of your thighs. Stroking the skin with his thumb, he turns to face forward again. You decide to let this go. Maybe he was just tired. You move up to his forearm and leave him a small kiss. You hear only a soft 'mmm', and a swaying of his body. His tail curls around your waist, squeezing. After a while, it's time to sleep. As life would have it, you and neteyam were living back in the family hut. Your hut was being repaired due to some problems, so while everything was being fixed you had gone back to live with your parents.
By setting up your hammocks further away from the family group, in some corner of the hut, you wanted to have some privacy. You were grateful that the family hut was spacious. "Mom… are you sure you want to sleep with him?" you ask. Watching as your mom was holding your son. "Yes… he's already asleep. Besides in a couple of days, you guys are going to go back to your hut and I won't have him all the time" neytiri was holding her grandson, while still cuddling him in her arms. "It's okay…but if he acts up" you start to speak, but watch as your father approaches neytiri. " Honey… go and rest" says jake. You watch as your mother takes your son to her hammock, it wasn't the first time they slept with their grandson. Somehow they missed having a baby. All their children were grown, so it was their grandson's turn to be spoiled. You stretch out, relaxed. You needed this space to yourself, so you walk over to where the hammock was that you and Neteyam shared. You saw that he was already lying down. "And noah't?" asks neteyam. "His grandparents stole him" you speak. You see neteyam laugh, he seemed relaxed too. He raised his arm, signaling for you to join him.
Kiri put out the fire that lit the hut, leaving everything in darkness. You climbed into your hammock, lying down right next to Neteyam. He settled down next to you. Hugging your small body, he placed his face on the back of your neck. Your hammock was right next to a small window, where the moonlight came in. You glance around trying to see where your parents were sleeping, but you could barely see them. "yawne… rest" neteyam speaks you could barely understand him. You feel him place a kiss on the back of your neck. So you move closer to neteyam's body, and close your eyes.
You think it had only been about 2 hours, when you feel someone kiss the back of your ear. "Nete…what's wrong?" you speak softly. "Mmm" neteyam purrs, sliding his hands over your hips, pushing his hands forward. You stay quiet, maybe he's asleep and settling in. But when one of his hands, slowly moves from your hips over your stomach, to your chest. Giving your breasts a gentle squeeze. You know he is wide awake. "Neteyam…don't you dare. Not here" you moan, but don't do much.
"Shhhh don't make noise" speaks neteyam softly. Leaving a soft kiss on your shoulder, as he began to grind his hips on your ass. "ma neteyam…someone might" your voice is cut off, the space in the hammock was limited, you could tell it had none. "No..don't worry, I'll be careful" neteyam slides one of his hands from your breasts to your thighs, gently pulling them apart. As he left wet kisses on your neck. You tried to keep up with him, but you were too embarrassed. Your family was in the same room, anyone could get up and see you. But those thoughts are interrupted, when you feel neteyam's hand slowly slide over your cunt. You sigh a little, trying to choke back a moan. Reaching up your arms, to grab a piece of neteyam's hair. Who was very much amused at his work.
Moving his finger lightly over your clit, making gentle circles. While momentarily sliding his fingers over your folds. Opening them, caressing them with his fingers. Enjoying how wet you were getting, with a few simple movements. "yawne…do you know what's wrong with me?" murmurs neteyam, lifting his face to get a better look at you. The man sees how you had your eyes closed, and your mouth a little open. Moving his hips further forward, just to create more pressure on your ass. Causing your pussy to move closer to his hand. "Mmm?" is the only thing that comes out of your mouth, the man chuckles to himself. Repeating the motion, noticing how with each thrust to your ass, you moved your hips to copy his rhythm. "You like to feel Daddy's fingers…touching you, playing with you, don't you?" neteyam purrs in your ear. You bring your hand to your mouth, if anyone wakes up…you're going to die of embarrassment.
Neteyam's cock was already hard enough, so you could feel it rubbing against your back. In one swift movement, the man had released it from his loincloth, letting it rest on the skin of your back. Moving to the rhythm of his thrusts, while neteyam's fingers work wonders on your wet pussy. You try to stop his movements, consciousness is eating at you. Trying to move his hand from your pussy, but it's almost impossible, because you can feel one of his fingers gently entering. Rubbing against your walls, slowly coming out to go back in. "net…" it was a silent whimper, but you feel his lips stick to your ear, biting quickly at the exposed skin. "I want to eat you out…that's all I ask" neteyam says, in a tone of voice that only you can hear.
Removing his hand from your crotch, to take his fingers into his mouth. Wiping away all the cum you had left him. Neteyam makes eye contact, watching as you open your mouth in surprise to stop being touched and for the audacity he was showing at this moment. Neteyam wasn't usually this bold, and even more so if his family was SO close…but he had to be very needy. You turned around, rubbing all over his body as you did so. The only good thing about these hammocks was how close you could be to him, feeling his cock slap against your stomach. Your hands quickly reach for it, pumping it gently as you made eye contact with your mate. Neteyam settles you more on your side, watching you stroking him. Letting himself go, bringing his hands to your hair only to pull you closer and give you a sloppy kiss.
"nete…could we mmm go somewhere else" you speak, lowering your gaze. Watching as his nice cock started to leak little drops of cum, which you take in so you can lubricate the skin. Your hands were small, so this helped even more. Neteyam pressed his face on his forearms, biting into his skin. He was trying to stifle a moan, when he sees how you bring the tip of his cock towards your pussy, pulling your leg up a little, laying it on his thigh. Pushing the fabric of your loincloth with the tip of his cock, just to stroke your folds. "Y/N….I" squeals a little neteyam, enjoying the overstimulation. You knew he was having a hard time, he was so vocal in bed. You bite your lower lip, feeling neteyam's hands tighten on your hips and then on your ass. Trying to seek more friction.
A noise from Kiri's hammock, which was the closest to you, alerts you. Releasing neteyam and managing to settle down to hide all activity. The two of you stand still, praying to eywa that no one had heard you, your hearts were racing. But it was only a false alarm, Kiri had only moved to get comfortable. You give a sigh of reassurance, you were going to look at neteyam. But you can feel how neteyam was already moving, separating his body from you. You watch as he moves down, taking your thighs in the movement, pulling them apart. Nestling his face between your crotch. "Nete…I'm serious, we must stop…we can" you are interrupted, when you feel as in one swift movement. Neteyam's fingers move through the fabric covering your wet pussy, to sink between your folds. Instinctively, you jump your hips, locking your thighs in the process. This doesn't matter to neteyam, stretching himself further. Sucking on your clit, and leaving soft licks all over your cunt.
One of your hands reaches your mouth. This was not the time to let out any moans. You were in a very revealing position. You close your eyes tightly as you feel neteyam's tongue brush and flick your sensitive spot. Raising your hips, to fuck yourself on his face. While he was holding you in place. Neteyam was eating you, as if his life depended on it. Trying to be as quiet as he could, he had wanted to try you for days. But you could barely be together. There was always something separating them. He missed feeling you, smelling you, taste you. Moving his hands over your ass, only to press his face tighter into your pussy. Feeling your hands reach for her braids, squeezing them tightly. "Shit" you whine, a little louder than usual.
Neteyam doesn't stop, but is aware that you should be as quiet as you can. Taking one of his hands off your ass, he brings it over your mouth. But still holding the other one on your ass. He can feel you biting his palm. The vibration of your moans, were being repressed in his hand. As he feels you in an attempt to pull away from him, you pull your leg up. Resting your foot on his shoulder. A big mistake for you, you had given him more space so he could eat you much better. Feeling how everything stretched with this position, letting his tongue reach places that were difficult.
He was holding you back, it was a lot of overstimulation. Neteyam wasn't slowing down the pace of how he was eating you. "Net..mmm" he could barely understand you, feeling your teeth digging deeper into the skin of his hand. He could barely feel the pain this was generating, this very excited by the sight he had. His pretty mate, underneath him…all open for his pleasure. With the rays of the moon, decorating her skin. He himself could feel his cock wrinkling beneath him. He could feel that he could come just by looking at you. He could feel, how your walls were tightening into nothing…as your hips sought more of his movements. Shit…you were so close, he thought to himself. Nibbling on your clit, as he licked with more pressure on your nub.
It wasn't long before he could feel your body jiggling gently. Removing his hand from your ass, now to insert a finger. Moving you quickly, as he reached your height. Listening to your little moans, being interrupted in his hand. As he watches your eyes, meet his. As he takes quick licks, in order to clean everything. Making sure he can take everything from you. After about 40 seconds too long for you, he feels your teeth release his skin. Removing his hand from your mouth, you let your head fall back. Feeling as neteyam slides over your body, to now be on top of you. "Come here" taking your jaw completely, kissing you just so you could taste the flavor of you, on his lips. "You taste better..when it's on me" you could see by the dim light reflecting off your partner's dilated pupils, and the droplets of sweat running down the sides of his face. You pet, his face…watching as he laughs cheekily to himself. "I hate you" you laugh under your breath. "Me too babe…" neteyam takes your hand, leaving a small kiss on your palm.
You feel sorry,noticing your little bites you had left on his skin. "Honey…I'm so sorry" you speak, taking his hand. "Don't worry…that's battle marks" neteyam makes a quick movement, to leave kiss on your belly. This man was telling you something for months and you were ignoring it. You relax for a moment, enjoying the cuddling until you remember. "Nete?" you speak, watching as he climbs up and settles on your chest. Hugging you with his big arms. "Yes?" says Neteyam. "You're not finished?" you say, worriedly. But you hear a giggle, and feel his grip tighten. "mmm I did" says the man humming, as he leaves a few kisses on your skin. "Ahh but" you are a little confused. "Seeing my cute partner…moving, all wet for me…was all I needed. Don't worry, I got what I wanted" you feel him bite playfully at one of your boobs. You laugh, but get more comfortable. You definitely had to make more time for him.
Bonus: In the morning, you could hear everyone slowly getting up. The voices of your parents and Kiri talking in the background. You were relieved that no one had seen or heard your sinful activities with neteyam the night before. Sitting in the hammock, you glance to the side to see neteyam and his son in the distance. You laugh to yourself…he looked more relaxed. You felt calm, stretching all the way out. Raising your arms up, as you looked straight ahead. Standing still.
Lo'ak was there…literally 5 feet away from your shared hammock with neteyam. He had the face of mad humor, you could see the dark circles under his eyes. You put your hands over your mouth, you were dying of embarrassment. "I'm going to take care of your hut myself," says lo'ak, rising from his hammock. Crossing his arms, you could tell how blushing he was. At that moment, neteyam approaches. "Look mom…who got up" speaks neteyam, carrying his son in the air. Noticing your pink face. "yawne…did something happen?" asks neteyam. You turn around, grab noah't and jump out of the hammock. "I told you…lo'ak saw everything.EVERYTHING" you yell a little…walking over to where lo'ak was, you had to apologize to him. Neteyam rolled his shoulders up, chuckling to himself.
930 notes · View notes
bi-scottsummers · 5 months ago
Note
Hi, hello, just came here to say that I love your fic "trending in Japan". I was wondering if you had headcanons regarding Kenji or Emi or interpersonal relationships and stuff. Many hugs for you.
hi hello, thank you for the encouragement and hugs! After some thought ive realized I do in fact have some hcs about some of the character dynamics in the movie as well as just kenji himself, cause hes captivated my entire brain:
Kenji & Emi
Emi does not have teeth but she does inexplicably have a teething phase. kenji is forced to hide all his (salvaged) fancy cars in the garage bc the corvette's already been chewed to hell and his heart is gonna give out if he has to watch any more classics get wrecked
he reads her bedtime stories. A lot of aesop's fables, because theyre short and fun and hes trying to raise his monster daughter with good morals. emi goes hogwild for these but its unclear if she actually understands what hes saying; kenji's pretty sure she just likes the silly voices he uses for different characters
they go flying together! they go first thing in the morning before breakfast - it helps kenji shake off the grogginess of sleep and emi gets to stretch her wings. shes not able to go very far for very long initially, but as she grows and gets those cardio gainz she almost gets to be quicker than him. they have races and play air tag :)
while she doesnt have the vocal range to speak english herself, it becomes clear that emi does understand it well. (kenji also develops an ear for her chirping/squawks, though body language & facial expressions play a big part in communication for both of them) during her (much later) rebellious phase she'll simply pretend not to know what's being said when kenji is telling her to do something she doesn't wanna do, which frustrates him to no end
Kenji
developed a pretty massive chip on his shoulder after moving to the states. it wasn't just bitterness over his dad staying behind, though that was a part of it. this is canon but he was picked on in school for "how [he talked], how [he looked] and what [he ate]." he felt like he had something to prove to both his father and the world. he threw himself into sports - specifically baseball - and his academics, and he did so well that it forced everyone to shut up about how he was different from them and focus on how he was better than them
^ playing off this: kenji had a bonkers fucking yonkers routine when he was a kid/in highschool. he'd get up hours before school started to practice his swing, go for a ~1hr run, workout, study, etc. He'd go to school, come home, and do it all again. this is exaggerated but my point is that this kid was DETERMINED and had the discipline to see that determination through to the end
didnt have many friends because of all aforementioned things. he had acquaintances, and he was invited to parties and outings and stuff (never went), but he spent most of his free time hanging out with his mom. he never really had a "parents are so embarrassing" phase. he always liked to do anything with his mother: going to the bank, going grocery shopping, watching cheesy telenovelas till ungodly hours in the morning, etc. she was his no.1 supporter, confidant, and best friend
he played for his university's baseball team and got scouted at 19. his mom forced him to finish his bachelor's first so once he graduated with his degree in kinesiology at 21, he was drafted to the dodgers
Kenji & Ami
both of them, up until meeting each other, were totally dedicated to their career (and child) so they had basically 0 time for friends. theyre both borderline losers but theyre juuust good enough at what they do for people to admire them instead of finding them sad and lowkey pathetic
kenji is way more into the idea of being friends than ami is. hes pretty enthusiastic about it; he thinks that they have a kind of rapport, since they share a similar work ethic and are both (unbeknownst to ami) single parents. he calls her to chat abt random things. ami initially isnt superrrr into it; she thinks kenji is kinda lonely and desperate for human connection, & it isnt until her mom points out that she has not spoken to anyone outside of work-related reasons in 10+ years that shes like oh shit, i am also lonely and desperate for human connection. so she grudgingly acquires a friend. theyre both really bad at it
need to clarify that in my mind their dynamic is 95% kenji yapping about work and drama in his personal life (circumventing the 8m baby kaiju hes raising) while ami goes "mhm mhm" and takes notes until kenji notices and is like What are you doing. at which point ami is like...... right . nothing. im listening. and forces herself to put the notepad away. she has a hard time disengaging from the reporter mindset and just hearing something intriguing without turning it into an article. the other 5% are the rare moments where theyre connecting super well - ami's psychoanalyzing the hell out of whatever kenji just said and hes like what are you my therapist. over time she starts opening up to him, too, and eventually theyre comfortable enough to be having philosophical discussions over breakfast just for funsies
before kenji reveals that hes ultraman, ami thinks hes in a gang. he keeps showing up to their lunch "dates" with like bruised eyes and fractured bones and gets all shifty when she tries to ask about what happened. when she eventually confronts him about it, hes so offended that she thinks hed be involved in something like that that he tells her about being ultraman
thats about all i can think of rn, though im sure ill think of more after rotating all the characters in my head for a while. thanks again for stopping in, i appreciate the support :)
67 notes · View notes
wandussyfantasy · 1 year ago
Note
Hey buddy
I have a request for Leigh Shaw and GN! Reader w peepee :)
Reader and Leigh have been a friends with benefits type of thing. Leigh also made it clear about no feelings since she wasn't over losing matt and she just needed a distraction. It isn't until she hears that Y/N has been going on a date with Becca, another widow from grief group.
Leigh then confronts reader about it and she realises in that moment that she has feelings for them which she tells them and then walks away. Ghosting them until they confront her at her home while Amy and Jules are out. They tell her how she has ruined their growing relationship with Becca by making them realise that they have always felt the same. Resulting in Leigh bringing them in for a passionate kiss and reader then asking if they can take her on a date.
Thank you awesome dude.
Love Me or Leave Me
Summary: You and Leigh have a special arrangement that gets disrupted when she finds out that you have been dating her friend, Becca.
Pairings: Leigh Shaw x NB!AMAB!Reader
Word Count: 6,749
WARNINGS:
18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT READ & DO NOT INTERACT!!!
smut, gn!reader amab, powerbottom!leigh, fingering, dirty talk, fluff, agnst, car hookup, fantasies, teasing, foreplay, and creampie.
𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓. 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.
“‘What is grief, if not love persevering?’” The nerdy grief counselor reads out to the group from his notebook. “How can we relate this line to ourselves and our own experiences with grief?” 
You sigh and look over to see that Leigh is just as unimpressed as you are with the new counselor. The one that usually led this group had to move to another state and so the organization has been trying to find a replacement. Unfortunately, the only people volunteering their time to help people with loss either haven’t experienced it themselves or are fresh out of college with psychology degrees they have no clue what to do with. You clear your throat and scratch behind your ear before you fake a phone call and leave the group. “I am so sorry, it’s my mother,” you excuse yourself as some regulars in the group try not to snicker. You walk out to your car and without much thought, you move it to a more secluded spot in the dark parking lot and swipe through a dating app as you wait.
Leigh knocks on your window a few minutes later. “I thought you wanted to give this guy a chance,” she says as she climbs on your lap. 
“I did, until he started quoting a comic book character,” you kiss her to trigger the physical response you needed in order to feel something other than the annoyance and the pain of your loss. She is grinding against your bulge to help you harden. It doesn't take you long, it's been almost a full week since the last time the two of you have met up for this since you went on a short trip with your friends. “You look very pretty in this dress by the way,” you compliment her as you dip your fingers in her panties to rub her clitoris. 
“Shut up,” she says, she thinks you only like it because of the easy access you'll have to her. But then again, that's why she chose to wear the dress in the first place. Leigh wasn't much for wearing dresses unless there was an occasion. Her mom was curious as she left the house and although this is the time Leigh normally attended the group, she began to wonder if her daughter was using that as a cover now and hoped that she was going on a date. You kiss as much of her exposed skin as you can while you finger Leigh and as much as she is enjoying the way your fingers know how to move, that's not what she is looking to penetrate her. She pulls your head up from her chest and kisses you hard. “Fuck me already,” she whispers impatiently. 
“Alright,” you say as you unzip your pants and pull out your dick. “So bossy,” you grumble as you penetrate her. “But fuck, I’m not complaining,” you grunt as soon as her warm walls envelope your thick cock. Leigh holds onto the seat as she rides you until she realizes that something is missing. 
“You have a condom on right?” She asks through breaths as she continues to move her body up and down on your lap. 
“Uh,” you try to figure out the best way to tell her that you don't have one on and the best way at the moment as your brain is clouded with lust is, “No.” 
She doesn't stop moving as she hits you upside your head. “Why not?!” 
“You told me to fuck you already. It's not a big deal, I'll pull out. Oooh this feels so good.” You say as you continue to meet your hips with hers. You start to kiss her body and get even more turned on when you realize she doesn't actually mind that you're fucking her raw. 
“Do you use them when you go on dates?” She asks as she slows down. Pregnancy wasn't her concern. She doesn't want to contract anything, she's gone this long without ever getting anything, she wants to continue that streak. 
“No,” you start out plainly just to mess with. This time she stops moving completely and looks at you with wide eyes. You break into a smile. “I don't sleep with my dates. It's only been you since we started this arrangement. I'm clean, I promise. I got tested weeks ago.” 
Leigh sighs as she wraps her arms around the back of the seat. You move your hands from her thighs to her ass. “Don’t scare me like that again, it's not funny.” She moves her hips in a small circle motion and you moan as you tip your head back as you promise not to do that again. With your neck exposed to her, Leigh does something she never really does. She leans in and starts to softly kiss your neck until she reaches a spot that depending on the shirt you'll be wearing after this, may or may not hide the mark she is about to leave. 
As you feel her sucking on your skin you start to pound into her as you're getting so close to finishing. “How close are you?” You ask as you pick up the pace.
“Almost… almost there,” she pants out as she grips onto you. 
“Where should I…?” you ask as you feel the build up of your impending climax. The answer that Leigh almost gives, surprises her and puts her over the edge as she imagines the way it would feel like to have your cock pulsing inside of her, filling her up with your semen. It's been so long since she's felt that. It was a surprisingly extremely rare occasion with her husband. Since he didn't want kids and was on and off depression medication they rarely had sex without a condom and even if they did, he almost never came because the medicine made it difficult for him. As she orgasms her walls clench around you almost as if they were trying to milk you. Her body is tempted to feel your release in full as she has felt you cum inside of her a few times with the condom on. But she wasn't going to feel it tonight. She pulls herself off of your cock, impressed that you held off your release and she grabs a napkin from the passenger's seat, you typically ate something on the way to the meetings. She covers the tip of your penis and uses her other hand on the base to help you cum. You groan as you empty into her hand. 
“I'll see you later,” she kisses your cheek and exits your car. 
Later that month, Leigh is meeting with Becca for tea before Leigh’s next class. The young widow is still teaching at her mother's women's health studio and Becca attends a class when she can to stay fit and stay connected with Leigh. The two have grown closer as Leigh finally started to let people in, slowly but surely, and Becca has learned to respect Leigh's need for space. 
“So, I've been seeing someone,” Becca starts as she stirs her tea slowly with an anxious smirk as she tries to contain her excitement. 
“Really?” Leigh is surprised, she didn't know that Becca was dating. 
“Yeah,” Becca starts and waits for Leigh to press for more information and once she does, Becca's act falls apart as she spills all of her secrets. “So, you know Y/n, from group? That guy that lost his mom? He's also in some indie band that in my opinion is totally underrated and-” 
“Isn’t Y/n nonbinary?” Leigh cuts Becca off, she didn't like it when people misgendered others, especially not when it's you. 
“Yes! Oh shit, did I say 'he'? Damnit,” she shakes her head. “I’m sorry, I'm still learning this whole gender and pronouns thing. Anyway it's Y/n. We've been on a few dates lately and I think it could turn into something. That's if I don't screw it up. Ugh, I hope I don't. I really like him- them! I like them.” Becca hangs her head. “I swear, I'm not doing this on purpose.”
Leigh remains quiet as she processes this information. She had your tongue inside of her just this morning when she accidentally broke a rule and spent the night at your place. Now she's finding out that you're dating her friend? “It’s fine, I think. I don't know. My sister knows more about it than I do. She says that some people don't mind the mess ups as long as you respect their preferences and don't use the wrong pronouns intentionally.” Leigh says to comfort the girl sitting across from her, giving herself a hard time. 
“Ok,” Becca relaxes her shoulders. “But um yeah, what do you think? Is it bad that I'm going out with them? I mean, yeah, we sort of met at the group but we didn't start talking until we matched on a dating app. I completely didn't recognize them on their profile until we met in person.” Leigh asks if you recognized her on the app and Becca laughs. “They did! They said that's why they felt comfortable asking me out like an hour after we matched and they thought I recognized them too. We had a laugh about it. They're really great, I think the two of you would get along if you wanted more friends.” 
Leigh plasters on a fake smile as she tries to ignore the pain this conversation is causing her. She cannot believe that you started to date Becca without telling her when you knew the two of them are friends. “How long have you been going out?” 
“Oh we’ve been going on what he calls 'intentional dates' once a week every week this month but we hang out all of the time. Except when either of us is busy, which they tend to be. But it's okay, they send me cute messages when we're apart. We haven't been physical yet though, we kiss a lot but when I try to make it more, he stops anything from happening. Oh no, you don't think he might be gay do you?” She has a hand over her chest as she worries about what the lack of a physical connection could mean.
Leigh shakes her head as she sips her tea. “No, I'm sure they're trying to be respectful. I mean, your husband died while serving in the military and they have a band that hardly anyone has ever heard of. It can be intimidating,” she reassures her friend while subtly correcting her. Leigh wonders how often Becca messes up when it comes to how you identify. Leigh never fucks that up and doesn't know how people do. Right now, she can't even figure out what you see in this girl. Sure, Leigh knows you're dating around. But as far as she knew, they were meaningless dates that never got anywhere. She didn't consider what it would be like if you actually found someone that you were interested in. Leigh picks up her phone and sends a risky photo she has been debating for sometime on whether or not she should ever send it to you and adds the message, I need you tonight.
“You are so right, Leigh. They don’t know about how bad my marriage was before my husband died. Maybe I should make the first move!” Becca suggests and that sends images to Leigh’s head that upsets her. She doesn’t want to share you with her. She doesn’t want to share you with anyone. Especially since the two of you have been talking about maybe having more sex without a condom. She wanted to feel you coming inside of her but now she can’t have that if you’re seeing someone exclusively. She probably can’t have you at all if you continue to date Becca. Then Becca gets a message and her grin disappears. “Awe bummer, they canceled our date for tonight,” she frowns. 
“Oh no, did they say why?” Leigh sips her tea as she poorly hides her enjoyment. 
“Yeah, they have band practice. They’re going to let me know when they can reschedule.” She sets her phone on the table. “You don’t think they might be pulling away because they’re intimidated by my dead husband right?”
Leigh shakes her head, “Becca, you’re overthinking it. Have they ever given you reason to worry they’re not being truthful?” 
“No,” Becca says as she thinks about it for a moment. “Well, other than the mark he had on our first date. It was like right here and I thought it was a hickey but he said he got it when wrestling with one of their bandmates.” 
Leigh clenches her jaw as she remembers making that mark. How could you lie to her friend like that? To someone who is so trusting and sees the best in people. Then she gets a reply from you stating that you’re free tonight and will make dinner so they have something to eat after. The both of you know it’s against the rules to share a meal so close to having sex. Since the arrangement was friends with benefits, it wasn’t against the rules to share a meal and they have shared many friendly meals. She has even had you over for a meal with her mom and sister a few times. But when it was shared after having sex at night, it left the option of her falling asleep and spending the night again. Which she already did last night. After the first time that happened and she woke up comfortable and in your arms, she freaked out and didn't talk to you for two weeks and that's when it became a rule. It has only happened a couple times since but you always make sure you're up before she is. 
Leigh knows she's breaking many rules with that picture and request, and she knows that you know it as well. The fact that you don't seem to mind it at all gives Leigh a warm feeling inside. She is the person you would rather spend your time with. “What’s that smile for? Do you have a hot date tonight?” Becca asks as she finishes her tea. 
“What?” Leigh breaks from her thoughts and drops her smile. “No, I just, no. Um look at the time, we better get to the studio. I'm the instructor, I can't be late to my own class.” Leigh gathers her things and Becca follows as she gets ready to leave as well. 
When Leigh arrives at your apartment, she is wearing the sexiest outfit she could find in her sister's closet. Jules was more than happy to lend the outfit and bit her tongue in asking too many questions, she was having fun dressing her sister up. It was another rule broken. Never dress up for sex. It's just sex, come as you are. She was starting to worry that she has broken too many rules by now. No more than one meeting within 48-hours. No sleepovers, unless absolutely necessary. No nudes. No meals together after sex. No jealousy. No preventing the other from getting into a relationship, unless absolutely necessary. No feelings, just sex. But the look you have when you open that door says it all. You don't care about the rules anymore. She wonders if you ever have. 
Leigh greets you with a kiss, it's slow and deep. Unusual to the heated rushed ones you're used to. But you don't mind the change. “I have to say, that picture was quite the surprise,” you start as you guide her to the bedroom. 
“So was your tongue this morning,” Leigh says as she bites her lip. “I thought you deserved a gift as a thank you.” 
You hum, “Well, I didn't need one but it is very appreciated.” You walk her towards the bed with your hands on her hips. “You look stunning tonight, you rule breaker,” you have your lips on her neck as the two of you fall on the bed. 
Leigh lets out a soft giggle in acknowledgement. “You noticed?”
“Of course I noticed, you practically gave me an exam on the rules before the first time we slept together. Well… technically the second time. The first time was an oopsy that got us to the rules.” You lightly remind her as you continue to kiss her body. You love her tastes and her sounds and the way she knows your body like no one ever has before. “What drove you to this?” 
“Don't worry about it, let's just focus on making each other feel good,” Leigh says as she reaches between the two of you to stroke your cock. You don't argue or question her. You rock your hips into her hand until you have to pull away from her to undress. Leigh rises from the bed as you sit next to her and start pulling your pants down. Once your shirt is off, Leigh stands in front of you and when you're not paying attention to her she lifts your chin with her finger. “Watch me,” she says as she kisses your lips. 
You are surprised by her again. Leigh starts to do a little strip tease for you. Pulling her clothing off slower than she ever has before. The way she sways her body around and removes the clothing is unpracticed and a little goofy but you don't laugh, you sit there and stroke your penis as you watch her. You lick your lips as you think about being inside of her again. There isn't anything else on your mind but being with Leigh right now. 
However, Leigh is stressing herself out. She can't tell if you're enjoying her little routine or if you think she is being ridiculous. She rushes the ending of her little performance, thinking what Becca might do in this situation. She isn't sure, she doesn't know if Becca would be a slow and patient lover or a fast paced “let's get this over with” lover. Maybe she has kinks and fetishes. Maybe she's vanilla… Leigh can be pretty vanilla. Did you like that? Did you find her boring? Is that why you continue to date even though you have a sexual relationship with her? “Fuck, that was hot,” you whisper as she presses her naked body to yours, breaking her from her spiraling thoughts. You crawl back further on the bed, pulling her with you, and lean against the headboard. “I should have woken you up with a morning cunnilingus ages ago if this is the thanks I would've gotten,” you kiss her and Leigh smiles for a second until she reminds herself why she is acting this way. 
Leigh is on a mission to make you see that you don't need Becca when you have her. No feelings. The rules echo in her head. This is just sex and friendship, nothing more. She tries to remind herself. At the moment she can't figure out how she ended up in this arrangement in the first place. Maybe it was something to do with that thing Becca mentioned to her about being touch starved. Maybe it was finding out that Matt had an emotional affair with his colleague. She could blame the arrangement on being a young widow and not wanting to give her heart to someone yet. Gosh she was a broken record lately. No wonder you were looking for something or more so someone more stable. 
Your lips bring her back to the moment as you travel her body. “You’re so beautiful,” the compliment warns her heart, you don't normally compliment her so much. And under different circumstances, she might have left and not called you for a week but she loves how soft you're being with her right now. She hadn't realized how sweet you are until the thought of losing you started to become a reality. 
“Let’s take it slow tonight,” she whispers as she lets go of the manic energy she came in with. 
“Okay,” you caress her cheek as you agree. She leans into your touch as you do. You move your fingers under her chin and guide her into a slow kiss. She melts against you as your lips move together. You swiftly move the two of you so that you're on top of her. “Lay on your stomach,” you say. Leigh makes a face. “Just trust me.” 
“Alright,” she flips onto her stomach and pulls the pillows under her arms to prop herself up comfortably. The mattress creeks as you leave the bed to retrieve the massage oil and Leigh lifts her head up. “What are you doing?” 
“I’m going to give you a massage,” you say as you return with the oil. You straddle her legs, your cock laying against her soft bottom, rubbing the oil on your hands before you start to spread it in her back. You are slow and careful with where you apply pressure. Leigh has never been given a massage as part of sex before and she wasn't sure how she felt about it yet. She couldn't deny that it felt good though, you really seemed to know what you were doing. As you rub her shoulders, you start to kiss her neck and as you move your hands lower, your lips and body follow. 
You take a moment to rub and massage her butt cheeks then move onto her thighs. She started to hum as her body was a little sore from the classes she had to teach earlier. Leigh hadn't realized how much she needed this massage until she had your magic hands on her. Then as you're rubbing the back of her thigh, she feels your tongue inside of her and she lifts her head up again in surprise. She had gotten so lost in the other sensations that she forgot for a moment what the two of you were doing. 
You only move your tongue inside of her for a minute or two before you return your focus to the massage. “Lay on your back now,” you say as you are now standing in front of the bed. Leigh flips over again, relaxing into the mattress in a way she never has before. You grab her left foot and start kneading it with your thumbs, following it with circular motions. Leigh wasn't someone that liked her feet touched in a sexual context but it's been forever since she's had a foot massage and the way you were doing it surprisingly wasn't turning her off. She's grateful when you don't kiss her feet. 
You grab the towel you had brought with you and wipe the excess oil off of your hands. You crawl your way back up Leigh's body, stopping for a moment to kiss her pussy. You trace patterns on her skin with your tongue that send chills up her spine. She worries that it's about her too much and that she isn't doing anything to pleasure you but her thoughts leave her mind again as you latch your mouth on her breast with your fingers inside of her. She moves her hands from her sides to touch you as you continue to make her feel everything. She starts with running her fingers through your hair. It was longer than when she met you since you wanted to grow it out this year. She wasn't sure how this length would look on you but as it's grown, she hasn't had a single complaint. Then as your mouth moves across her chest, her hands move down your back. She can't massage you nearly as well as you had done for her but she does what she can and you appreciate the effort. 
When you're done paying attention to her breasts, you pull your fingers out of Leigh. You trace her lips with the coated fingertips until you dip them in her mouth and she licks them clean. Your dick twitches at the sight. You kiss her on the mouth as you line yourself up at her entrance. You move the head of your penis up and down between her wet folds to prolong the action and then you reach for the condom on the nightstand. 
“No,” Leigh stops you as she covers your hand with hers. “I don't want anything between us tonight,” she says. Always wear a condom, no matter what. 
You nod, “Okay.” 
You press into her entrance slowly and it's like she's feeling you for the first time. Like really feeling you. Not just riding you to get her climax. This isn't a drunken decision like the actual first time. This isn't just something that the two of you are doing to pass the time. This is real. The two of you are making love. This isn't fucking. This isn't just sex. It's slow and intimate and passionate. It's something that she wants for as long as she can have you. Leigh doesn't want to lose you to some other girl. 
As the two of you make love, she decides that she isn't going to be afraid anymore. She is going to tell you how she feels about this arrangement and she hopes that you'll feel the same. As she gets closer to her climax her mind is wiped clean, not a thought haunts her as she chants, “Oh god, oh god, oh god,” over and over again. Anticipating her walls squeezing your penis so close to your own orgasm, you start to pull away from her, planning on having her finish on your mouth. But Leigh has other plans as you pull away, she locks her legs around your back, keeping you inside of her. 
“Leigh, I won’t be able to hold off,” you warn her. 
She kisses your mouth, “It’s okay, I want you inside.” Her words trigger the two of you to share the most euphoric orgasms either of you has ever had in your lives. You've never released inside of someone without a condom before and the feeling was like nothing you've ever experienced before. As for Leigh, she is enjoying every pulse of your penis as you empty your balls into her. 
“Fuck, Leigh. What's gotten into you?” You pant out the question with a laugh as the two of you calm down. Once you start to soften, you pull out and roll next to her. Leigh is quick to roll on top of you, laying against your chest as you catch your breath. 
“Nothing, just a thank you,” she replies as she snuggles against you. Holding you as close as she can. No cuddles or snuggles or any physical touch unless it's related to sex. Leigh tries to get her brain working again so she can tell you how she feels but she's also enjoying being in your presence and relaxing in the moment. 
Unfortunately, there isn't a lot of time before your phone starts going off. You grab it from the nightstand and sigh with a frown. “I’m sorry, Leigh. I have to take this.” You kiss her on the lips while you pull away from her. Leigh wraps herself in your blanket as she watches you leave the room. You hop on one foot at a time as you put your basketball ball shorts on and answer the phone. “Hey cutie, what's up? Yeah, it's going great. Yeah, I'm sorry I couldn't tonight. But maybe we can do something tomorrow night?” You say as you walk away. 
Leigh scoffs, she couldn't believe what she was overhearing. You had just came inside of her and you were making plans with Becca. Bubbly, positive, happy, pretty Becca. Not complicated and upfront with her feelings, Becca. Perfect widow, Becca. She gets out of the bed as she becomes blind with rage. She feels so used. Clearly breaking the rules wasn't enough to keep your attention. You still wanted her and not Leigh. 
She angrily grabs her clothes off of the floor and when you return she is almost fully dressed. “What's wrong, Leigh?” You say as you notice how upset she is. 
“You!” she snaps. 
“What?” Leigh storms past you and you follow her. “Leigh, talk to me, please.” You try to get ahead of her before she can get to the door but the apartment is small and she has it swung open before you can push it closed. “Leigh, please, tell me what I did wrong!” You beg as you continue to chase her. It didn't make any sense, she was holding onto you. She let you cum inside of her. She sent you that picture. She was so happy five seconds ago. It couldn't have been the call, you've taken them a couple times before. One time she even answered the phone for you and sucked you off while you chatted with the girl. This doesn't make any sense. 
“You had to start dating my best friend! Didn't you? What? One widow wasn't enough to have on your roster? You had to have two?” She shouts as she spins in front of you. 
“Oh shit,” you stand there dumbly as you realize she knows about Becca. “Leigh, I'm sorry. I didn't think it would be a big deal. And best friend? Really?” She narrows her eyes at you. 
“So not the point,” she starts through gritted teeth as she stops and spins to look at you, “she is still my friend. That's so low of you to put in this position!”
“Shit,” you shut your eyes as you understand where she's coming from now. “Leigh, please, come inside and let's talk about this.”
“Are you going to stop seeing her?” 
“What?”
“It’s a simple yes or no question. Are you going to stop seeing Becca?” She asks again. 
“I don't know,” you deflate. “Becca is the first person, other than you, who seems to get me. We connect well and she's sweet and considerate and goofy and if I'm honest, I kind of like hanging out with her. It's not easy dating these days.” 
“Do you want to get serious with her?” Leigh asks. 
You haven't really given it much thought. You were just enjoying your time with Becca right now. In a similar way you were enjoying your time with Leigh. “I don't know,” you shrug. “Maybe? But what do you care?”
“What do I care? Do you really think I'm so heartless?” Leigh says back. “I care because I’m in love with you! You fucking idiot!” Leigh freezes and her angry expression drops as her blood runs cold in her body. She doesn't give you a moment to respond or even process. Leigh gets in her car and leaves. This time, you don't chase after her. 
Leigh knew she wanted an exclusive relationship but she didn't know how deep her feelings ran. Is she ready to be in love with someone? She isn't sure. Not after the rollercoaster that was Matt and his secrets. You and her were a secret and you kept it so well. Can she even trust you? Do you trust her?
Her phone ringing snaps her out of her thoughts for a second. She knows it's you. She can't answer. This is not an easy situation by any means and she needs to distance herself from you. Figure out how she really feels and maybe you will do the same. There's a chance she could lose you for good. Lose you to Becca. But that could be a good thing for both of you. 
Your phone calls don't stop for the rest of the night. The next day it's text messages and the day after, it's nothing. You finally go silent and Leigh is both relieved and terrified. She has no idea what you're thinking right now. She has no idea how you feel. She cannot believe she said those words to you. What was she thinking? She wasn't. 
The next week she receives a few messages from you, asking to talk, but she never responds. Leigh isolates herself from everyone she knows just in case you try to go to them to get to her. She doesn't hang out with Becca because she cannot stand to hear how great things are between the two of you. Or how horrible things are. Either way, she doesn't want to know. When her mom and Jules try to ask her what's wrong, she avoids the subject and they figure that she's having another “Matt episode” and they leave her be. 
Leigh decides to visit her husband's grave and think about the life they could have had. Would she be in his arms right now while he thought of another woman? Would he have left her for this woman? Or was it a crush that would have faded? Would he ever come around to the idea of kids? Or would that have been their breaking point? Did they get married too young? Did they move too fast? She has so many unanswered questions about their relationship, and he isn't here to help her figure them out. Not that him being here would have been much help. There are so many questions surrounding you and instead of talking to you, she's hoping that ghosting you will keep you away. 
Another week goes by and this time she doesn't hear from you at all. More silence. But there is no peace in it. She can't keep going like this. She wants to call you but she's scared. At least this way, the only person that gets hurt is her. You and Becca can be living happily ever after with each other and she will try to find something simple and easy. The weekend that her mom is away at a retreat and Jules is spending the night at her current girlfriends house, Leigh invites Drew to go out. She drinks and dances and flirts until she finds someone to go home with. It gets hot and heavy and she sloppily makes out with this person, trying to get their clothes off. Except, it doesn't go past the intense kissing because she breaks down into tears. She falls apart in the strangers apartment and they are nice enough to allow her the space to let it out. She ends up passing out there and they let Leigh sleep it off in their bed and they move to the coach. They drop her off at her house early the next morning. 
“Leigh,” your voice is broken and you wake to her slamming the car door shut. Leigh’s face is a mess from sleeping and crying in her makeup but that's not what you're thinking when you set your eyes on her.  You startle her as she climbs the porch steps. “Oh,” you say as you put two and two together. Leigh's hair and outfit are all out of sorts and you remember seeing her like that after a night with you. “Okay then, I'm clearly wasting my time here,” you rise and stretch your stiff limbs, sore from sleeping next to the front door, and wipe yourself off. “I’m sorry, I'll leave you alone.”
Leigh watches you in shock, you're standing in front of her. You're a mess and you're here. She has images in her head of what you would look like by now. Clean and happy and waking up to a nice warm breakfast with Becca. Not here. Not waiting for her all night. “What are you doing here?” The words come out harder than intended and she wants to rewind but it's too late. 
You scoff, “Making a fool of myself, clearly.” You start to walk away but Leigh reaches for your wrist to stop you and you do. It's been far too long without her touch and even this little bit is more than enough to get you to fall apart. 
“I’m sorry, I panicked,” she says in a small voice with her head down. You sigh as you fight against your better judgment. She has a hold on you that you didn't realize was there until you almost lost it. Or maybe you have lost it. You don't know yet. “I’m not good at this. I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do.”
You aren't sure if she means that she's not good at ending things or if she's not good at fixing them. You look over at your car and think about the night you ended things with Becca. You still weren't certain if you felt the same way about Leigh or if you had those feelings for Becca so you had to see for yourself. You continued to talk with her after the whole thing with Leigh but you kept your distance. Then you finally took her on a date, ready to end the night in bed with her but throughout the evening you noticed how you had to force yourself to continue a conversation or even pay attention to one of her stories. It was natural with Leigh. When you tried to sneak a taste of her food she got weird and territorial about it, surprisingly Leigh never did. Whatever you thought you had with Becca before Leigh's confession was gone and you realized that the only person you wanted to be with was Leigh. So when you dropped Becca off at her apartment and she tried to kiss you, you stopped her and told her that you had a complicated thing with someone else and that you couldn't continue with Becca anymore. She took it very hard. She was in tears and she couldn't believe that you had strung her along the way you did. You tried to tell her it wasn't like that but it didn't do any good. It was hard to end things with her but it was what was best for the both of you. 
Now you have to work it out with Leigh. Well, either you work it out or you have to let her go. “Just talk to me, Leigh. You tell me that you love me and then you run away. I've been worried sick for weeks and you wouldn't talk to me!” You pull your wrist out of her grasp and pace between her and the front door. Pulling on your already messy hair. “Then I come here and wait all night for you to let me in and you're off fucking someone else!” You stop in front of Leigh with red eyes and tears at the brim. “Am I stupid for being here?”
“No,” Leigh says as a wave of sadness hits her. Her lips quiver and she drops her shoes to grab your shirt to pull you close to her. “No, you're not stupid. I'm so sorry,” you let her lean against you, but you don't wrap your arms around her yet. Leigh sighs, happy to feel you again. “Gosh, I've missed you,” she whispers into your chest. “I didn't have sex with that person. I tried to but I didn't want to. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have ghosted you. I should have stayed. I'm sorry. Is it too late?” She pulls back enough to look at you. 
Looking in her eyes, she is being sincere and vulnerable and you've never fallen for anyone harder than you are right now. You know that things won't always be easy with Leigh. But she is worth it. You wrap your arms around her and bring her into a warm embrace. You feel your heartbeat against you and it heals the cracks in your heart. “No, it's not too late.” You hold her. “But I do think we need to start over.”
“Okay, yeah,” she nods and sniffles. “Whatever you want. I'll do it. I just want to be with you,” she holds you tighter. 
“I just want to be with you,” you say as you step back and pull her into a passionate kiss. It didn’t matter to you that she had a bad morning breath with a hint of whatever alcohol she consumed the night before. And your morning breath didn’t affect her either. In fact, she wanted more of you. But you pull away before she can deepen the kiss and rest your forehead against hers. “Will you let me take you out on a proper date, Leigh Shaw?” 
“Yes, I will,” the two of you kiss again.
The End.
297 notes · View notes
imagining-in-the-margins · 2 years ago
Text
The Mother Wound (S.R.)
Tumblr media
Summary: Spencer and Reader bond over having emotionally absent mothers. Request: reader has an abusive parent and she has developed ptsd from that A/N: Written for a very dear friend of mine, and anyone else who needs to hear it. This is also my entry to @foxy-eva’s Celebration Challenge (prompt “Overcoming Trauma”)! Be sure to show her some love! Couple: Spencer Reid/GN!Reader (also consistent with platonic love) Category: Angst/Comfort Content Warning: Mother’s Day, strained parent & child relationship, implied no contact (with mother), implied mental or physical abuse (from father), crying, feelings of shame Word Count: 2.5k
MASTERLIST
Tumblr media
I didn’t go home for Mother’s Day.
I knew that I was supposed to, but I didn’t. Instead, I stayed exactly where I was. Some might say it was inertia, but I knew better. There was no real excuse for violating the duty granted to me by nature of having been born.
But at least I wasn’t the only one.
The case that had almost served as an excuse was both local and over. It ended with serendipitous timing that allowed almost everyone else to scurry home in time for an attempt at recreating a home cooked meal for the woman that taught them… well, everything.
Spencer stayed with me. He called his mother, though.
As I sat on the park bench overlooking the lake, I turned back to see him with his phone still pressed against his ear. Even from where I was sitting, I could make out his knitted brow. It felt too intimate for my tired heart to handle, and so I turned away.
Sort of like how I was avoiding my mother.
My insides twisted and their rioting made my bones rattle. It felt as though my body was tearing in two in protest of my failure to acknowledge its creation.
I breathed in, slowly but with a trembling lip.  I breathed out much quicker, like a swift punch to the gut that left me doubled over.
When I brought my hands to my face, I felt the wetness of freshly shed tears. I looked up at the water, resting and rippling reflections of the universe and I wondered how many oceans I could fill with this feeling.
“Hey, are you ready to go?”
Spencer’s voice tore me mercifully from the thought.
“Hey,” I said as I sat up.
My hands were still over my eyes, rubbing constellations against damp eyelids and hoping that the red would quickly fade.
“Sure, we can go,” I tried to assure him when I finally turned to face him.
But Spencer, that sweet boy with his wringing fingers and always-averted gaze looked directly into my eyes—endless oceans of grief with a relentless rip current of rage. 
He said nothing. Behind us, the frogs and crickets sang a raucous symphony that sounded nothing like a good mother’s tongue.
After a moment, I realized how little time had passed.
“Did your mom not answer your call?”
“No, she did,” he said with a curt shake of his head. Then, with more broken movements he tried to explain, “She just uh…”
I stared back. His eyes fell away, turning towards the lake as his face stretched into a strained smile.
“She’s having a bad day,” he said.
“I’m sorry,” I offered.
“It’s alright,” he refused. 
So, we stayed, both filled to the brim with inertia borne from the same shame.
That was, until he asked, “Can I sit with you?”
“Yeah, of course.”
The bench was big enough that I hadn’t needed to move to make room for him, but I did it, anyway. I shrunk into myself exactly the way my mother had taught me to do.
Spencer watched me as I withered. Through my peripherals, I watched him struggle against the same instinct.
But then he gave a small act of courage, the trembling of a hand splayed against a bench, the demand to take up space.
It made my heart ache.
“I’m having a bad day, too,” I told him.
Spencer smiled.
“That’s alright,” he shrugged.
My mouth dropped open and stayed there. I silently wondered how many years of suffering it must’ve taken to grow muscles capable of letting go, of feeling badly freely.
“Truthfully, I’ve never really liked Mother’s Day,” he sighed. “It always felt… forced. If not slightly resentful, even.”
What cruel words they were, like a twist of a knife in already knotted insides.
It was an irresponsible thing to say, a horribly upsetting suggestion that I understood with such fury that tears poured down my cheeks with no warning. Again, I fell forward, caught by my own hands that tried to stifle the sobbing. 
“Oh, I’m sorry!” he shouted.
Then, with a voice like a child, he begged me to believe him.
“I-I didn’t mean to…”
“It’s not your fault,” I said. I even surprised myself with a laugh and an uncharacteristic level of introspection. “I just… I relate a little too much to what you just said.”
“I’m still sorry,” he offered.
“It’s fine,” I refused.
We sat together in the suffocating darkness until one of us found the courage to speak again.
It was him first.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“No, not really,” I said.
My courage followed slightly later, with the word ‘yes’ fighting through my throat.
Eventually, it came out as a weak and broken, “Maybe.”
Spencer’s eyes scanned my features while I looked up at the lake.
“I’ve been told I’m a very good listener when I manage to be quiet,” he deadpanned.
I laughed. It tasted bitter like the words bottled inside of my chest. It sounded bitter like the way my mother never could compliment me without a condition.
“I just feel terrible saying it all today, of all days,” I sighed. My hands fell back to my lap, abandoning any hope that I could hide my weakness from his eyes.
In an unexpected and swift motion, Spencer moved closer. His body radiated warmth and the faint but familiar smell of a better home.
Without any attempt at hiding or quieting his voice, he chuckled, “I promise you, anything bad you could say about your mother, I’ve thought worse.”
I scoffed, but it didn’t dissuade him.
“I doubt that very much,” I explained.
But he was persistent.
“I mean it.”
Almost enough for me to believe him.
Our eyes locked. Mine, slightly squinted as I tried to find hidden meaning. His, wide eyed and innocent, as though he’d done nothing wrong at all.
“What if I told you that… I was relieved when she hung up on me?” he said, further betraying those eyes. “I spent the whole day dreading that phone call, and I barely managed to smile until I heard the dial tone.”
So simple, so sure that he’d done nothing wrong. I was inclined to believe him.
“What would you think about me?” he asked, “Would you think I was awful?”
“No,” I admitted.
His saturnine smile didn’t wane, but it trembled with both pride and pain.
“I agree,” he said. “Your turn.”
“I-I don’t know what to say.”
It had been close enough to the truth that I couldn’t call it a lie—but Spencer didn’t believe it. He spared me the humiliation of saying that, though.
Instead, he took my hand. His grip was soft and warm despite the springtime chill, exactly like his eyes. He looked at me with such reverence that I felt compelled to hide.
He didn’t let me do that, either.
“Try,” he said instead, “For me.”
He didn’t let go when my fingers twitched in his grip. Again, the seemingly small act of bravery—the daring to hold me even when my hands grew clammy and harder to love—felt like a balm over a bullet wound bleeding harsh words.
I took a deep breath before I spoke.
“I don’t know what to say about my mother because I don’t think I’ve ever had one. I don’t think I really know the woman who made me and I’m not sure I ever will.”
Spencer didn't move. Not even a nod.
Quieter then, with waning confidence, I cried, “I’m not sure if I would even want to know her. But then I say that out loud and I know I’m lying like she always said I was.” 
A sob shook my body and I almost pulled away. Spencer was caught off guard by the sudden jerk, but his grip tightened like he saw how ready I was to bolt.
“Being confused isn’t the same as lying,” he offered.
“It doesn’t matter,” I refused.
So did he.
“It matters,” he insisted. “It matters to me.”
I tried to scoff but I choked on the sound. My free hand clutched at my chest like it could stop the way my heart was tearing in two.
I should have known better, though. How could my heart break in half when it was never whole to begin with?
As I fell back against the bench, Spencer’s grip loosened. He would’ve withdrawn completely if I hadn’t stopped him by squeezing tighter.
He settled, too. We both relaxed against worn wood and shivered from Winter’s dying breath.
“Sometimes it feels like there is this… ache inside of me,” I whispered along the whistling wind, “No matter how much I try to bury it over the years, I can’t seem to shake it. It’s like…. It’s like I can feel her. This version of myself that was never allowed to be.”
I held my hand out like an offering to the lake. I stared at a calloused palm l long enough for it to tremble under the weight of nothing.
“When you’re a child, all you want is a mother. Your mother,” I cried as my offering turned to a fist, “You crave it so badly, that reassurance, that comfort, that… unconditional love.”
Spencer looked down at his own scarred palm.
“Yeah,” he muttered, “you’re right.”
I wanted to pause, to let him speak and hear what he might have to offer from the safety of the other side of this suffering.
Yet when I spoke again, I swore I saw him shrinking away.
“They say when you grow up with an angry man in your house, you will always find him in your house, no matter how far from him you run. And they’re right. They…”
I turned to find him with furrowed brows pointed at the ground. I watched the breath come to him just to leave him again.
I recognized the signs of a heavy heart. Deciding that spilling half of my heart would be enough for now, I swallowed the words about my father. I turned back to my mother at the same time Spencer turned back to me.
“I never expected anything else from my father. But next to him, in front of him, in the space between the two of us, where my mother was meant to be, there is…”
“Nothing,” he finished for me.
“Exactly,” I croaked.
I wasn’t sure how I had any breath left, much less painful, beautiful words to try to fill the black hole where there was once an umbilical cord.
“I can feel it,” I muttered, “I can feel the lack of her like an insatiable hunger that feels… exactly like my father.”
I squeezed his hand. Tighter with each passing word, waiting to see how much of my rage he was willing to endure before I became unlovable.
“That child inside of me is made of monsters without mothers. I am, at my core, half-empty,” I nearly yelled, gripping him so tightly that I swore I felt my own muscles tearing, “and I don’t know how the fuck I’m supposed to fix that without a mother to teach me how!”
I gasped. My hand let go, flew away from him as I collapsed forward once more. I held myself with that same cruelty—digging nails into skin that looked both too much and not enough like my mother.
To my surprise, Spencer scrambled forward, but he didn’t pry me apart. Instead, he wrapped careful arms around me until he felt the full weight of my grief.
He cradled my head against his chest with trembling hands. I could see angry red welts where my fingers had been, and it only made me cry harder.
I wept shamelessly, clinging to him with tainted hands and half of a heart.
He said nothing and it sounded nothing like my mother’s silence.
Eventually, I came to join him in the liminal space between our suffering.
“I’m afraid I’m going to be angry forever,” I whispered.
“You won’t,” he answered in a way that sounded a lot like a lie. A half-truth, an almost abandoned hope.
He saw how badly I wanted to challenge the notion. He knew he couldn’t promise me peace, so he abandoned the hoping and returned his energy to holding me instead.
“I wish I had all the answers,” he said, and for the first time, I heard his voice shake.  “I’ve spent a lifetime searching for something to help me calm that crying child and I just…”
Our bodies rocked with the soft rippling before us. Spencer’s tears dripped onto my chest and I realized no number of oceans could ever contain this feeling.
“I know,” he blubbered. “I know how it hurts. I know how terrifying it is to grow up with the full knowledge of how cruel the world can be, and it isn’t fair that you had to wait this long.”
How long, I wondered, how long does one have to suffer to be able to admit it wasn’t fair?
I bore witness to his final act of courage. I looked at him, saw him, saw the reflection of my fear and shame as it slid down his cheeks.
“I know that no one can completely fill that empty space,” he sniffled.
Slowly, he lifted heavy eyelids. Our eyes found each other once more, and he chuckled at the sight of himself in my eyes.
“But I can try,” he said with a shrug. “I can try to make it smaller. Because I know where to stand and how to hold you. I can bring a flashlight and beautiful things to try to drown out the darkness just a little.”
I bit down on my lip but it slipped away. With it came the secret still kept tightly against my chest.
“I’m scared,” I offered.
“I know,” he accepted. 
Tired, trembling arms held me higher. He pulled me from the wreckage until my arms fell around her shoulders and my face buried against his neck.
“I’ve got you,” he whispered, “We’re gonna make it. I promise.”
In my own radical act of bravery, I allowed myself to believe it. I closed my eyes and I held him, too. With an equal amount of bravery, he let me.
And within the comfort of that embrace, I found a memory that didn’t exist; a vision between the kaleidoscope of colors behind closed eyes.
There were two children adorned with capes made of old curtains and a flashlight strapped to their heads. Their hands were tightly clasped and clammy, like kids’ hands always were. But his grip was strong and steady and neither of them felt scared.
The beams of light fought through thickets of darkness ahead of them.
“Are you ready?” he said through a bucktoothed grin.
He takes a step forward and they both notice how the light travels further with every step.
“Yeah,” the small child inside me says without a tremble in their voice, “let’s go home.”
They couldn’t know where they were going but they didn’t let it stop them. The trek was long and the journey was difficult, but it was made easier by the company of a friend.
With clammy hands tightly clasped, they tried to make their way through the darkness to that storied place where nothing bad happened.
I didn't go home for Mother's day.
And nothing bad happened.
Tumblr media
(Tell me what you thought about this fic here!)
Looking for more to read? Check out my CM Father's Day Rec List here! It has SFW and NSFW categories.
Tumblr media
Reid Taglist: @mrs-dr-reid , @dreatine , @hopefulfangirl24 , @laurakirsten0502 , @dontcallmekittens , @rintheemolion , @andreasworlsboring101 , @imsuperawkward , @wentz2005 , @lovejules888 , @dashneydanger , @materialisthicc , @violetspoetic , @mslowlife , @conniesanchor , @will-byers-needs-a-hug
Complete Taglist: @cynbx , @emsma11 , @mediocre-writer , @fightingdragonswithwho , @andiebeaword ,  @jayyeahthatsme
Thanks for reading!
386 notes · View notes
theolivetree123 · 4 months ago
Text
Voice claim: Bennett - Genshin Impact (JP)
Character Details
Age: 17
Height: 163 cm
Sexuality: Bisexual
Birthday: March 4th
Nicknames: Hops (by Neige), fluff, cottontail, and rabbit (by @ashipiko 's Niko)
Dominant Hand: Left
Dorm: Lepuvince (My own RSA dorm)
Grade: Sophomore (2nd Year)
Likes: Wood carvings, professionalism, gemstones, flowers (specifically sunflowers)
Dislikes: Being called cute, people touching his ears (unless it's a family member or a s/o)
Favorite Food: Carrots, blueberries, snickerdoodles
Least Favorite Food: Limes, or just anything sour
Best Subject: PE
Club: Martial Arts Club (run by my Mulan twst oc)
Hobbies: Wood carving, Martial Arts
Homeland: Shaftlands
Family: mother (Bonnie) and father
Twisted from: Judy Hopps from Zootopia
Tumblr media
Character Info
Hopper is a very assertive young man, known in RSA for his immense bravery and extraordinary knowledge in combat. Being the Housewarden of Lepuvince, he values bravery and justice above all.
Growing up, Hopper had always valued bravery and justice. His father taught him all about how to fight and save people, which led Hopper to have many friends, but also many enemies. This did not discourage him, though, as he would be top of his class almost every year and learn many different types of hand-to-hand combat in his free time.
As the years went on, Hopper started to be enveloped in his schoolwork and, as a consequence, lost many of his friends. Yet, he still moved on, determined to be strong and dependable like his father. Many times throughout his middle school life, he would be bullied for his height or how cutesy he looked, but he would just ignore them all. He needed to be just like his father.
One day, Hopper's mother saw just how hard he was on himself and decided to take him out of school early. Once Hopper got home, his mother told him to come help her on their farm. There, Hopper's mother forced him to finally have fun and do something without the stress of being the best, and once the sun set, Hopper's mother gave him a little carving of a rabbit as a thank you gift.
Since then, Hopper has tried his best to be the best he can be, but still saving time for his own health. Though, he gets bored of his life sometimes, wanting to have fun again like he did with his mom that one day. He wonders a lot about what it would be like to have a partner that would break him out of his comfort zone and make him have fun. Yet, he always thinks he's too busy for love.
Tumblr media
Relationships
Neige - While Hopper thinks they're just acquaintances, Neige thinks that him and Hopper are best friends. Neige is almost always by Hopper's side, calling himself his #1 fan, much to Hopper's dismay. Though, the two do get along, and sometimes go shopping together.
Elias - Before Elias went to NRC, he enrolled into RSA. There, he befriended Hopper, and the two became inseparable. Though, due to Elias's family business, he had to move. Hopper still talks to Elias, but definitely not as much as he used to, due to Elias now going to RSA's rival school.
Niko - Hopper and Niko's first meeting definitely wasn't the friendliest. The two met during the culture fair, and due to Niko's annoying nature, Hopper had to.... punch him. Since then, they've been friendly enemies, meeting up with each other from time due to coincidence. It started out being just arguments until they gradually realized that they had things in common. The more they talked, the more their hatred turned to friendliness, and Hopper started to think differently about Niko. Something way different.
Tumblr media
Random Facts
Hopper HATES pink
Hopper's mom taught him how to carve wood, yet he's still not very good at it.
Hopper has ADHD and OCD
Hopper loves to take care of the horses on his family's farm.
Hopper has a slight fear of intimacy.
Tumblr media
Character References
Tumblr media Tumblr media
46 notes · View notes
stxuxrniolochris · 10 months ago
Text
fake dating p2 ~ chris sturniolo
p1 p3 p4
Tumblr media Tumblr media
slow burn ( i think ), your both seniors(18), also i live in Ireland so idk how American like years ik school works so just go with it, use of y/n, half based on to all the boys I’ve loved before but not really, highschool!chris
Summary ~~you both need to get peoples attention but you might just end up catching eachothers~~
This chapter explains the backgrounds of the characters more but in the next it will focus more on Chris and y/n 🫶🏼
~~
Me and Chris sat down at our own table without our friends. It was weird but since me and Chris were close it wasn’t awkward. “ So there’s a party at James’ tonight..” he starts. “Chris you know I don’t do parties.” I said sternly so he knew I wasn’t joking. “Come on y/n, Amelia went to all the parties with me and she’ll be there so you have to come so she sees you with me.” I roll my eyes. “Fine but we’re leaving when I say”. He nods quickly. “Deal” he said while shaking my hand, which causing me to shake my head and laugh. Until I catch Amelia’s eye across the cafeteria, glaring at me and Chris, which makes me stop laughing quick.
Chris pov
The bell rings indicating it’s time for class so y/n stands up and gets ready. Even though she’s my bestfriend, i can’t deny she’s really pretty. I used to like her back in freshman year, but I realised she was just feeling platonic towards me when she used to come to me with boy problems and talk about her dates. I got jealous of when she talked about her dates so I started going on them myslelf. That’s when I met Amelia and I ended up really liking her and my feelings for y/n drifted but I never stopped thinking she was beautiful. Matt and nick think I still like her, and that’s why I’m doing this whole fake dating thing, but I just want Amelia back. I think. No. I know.
“Chris are you even listening to me” y/n pulls me out of my trance. “Sorry, what did you say?” “I was just telling you to come on or we’ll be late, you’re already falling behind in physics.” She said while walking away. “Wait up.” I said while rushing to get up. I latched my hand to hers and she tensed up a bit. I don’t know why I mean we’ve always had touchy relationship. “Relax” I bent down to whisper.
Y/n pov
“Relax” he whispered right beside my ear. His hot breath tickling, sending shivers down my spine. I don’t know why I was tensed up, I don’t like Chris like that. I think it was the idea of being in a public relationship with him. I’ve never had a proper relationship before. It always kind of scared me. I never had a great relationship with my parents growing up, till my dad left when I was 13. After that me and my mom got closer but not close. Seeing how my dad treated me and my mom I always had an idea that relationships won’t work out so it’s easier to stay away. That’s the one of the two things I’ve never told Chris. No one knows what really happened with my dad they just know he’s not around anymore.
School just ended. It was my favourite and least favourite time of the day. I didn’t like school but I also hated being home. Chris had is arm lazily around my hip while we walked out of the school. We were walking to the car and I had my head down looking at my phone, when I felt Chris stop and his arm coming fully around my waist and holding me infront of him. I looked up wondering what he was doing, and then I was face to face with Amelia. It was silent for a moment of Amelia staring at me, “What do you want Ams.” He didn’t have to use her nickname infront of my even if we were just faking it. “I was wondering how you moved on so fast and with her.” She said in a condescending tone, which made me roll my eyes. “Look Amelia I don’t have time for this, you broke up with me remember.” Chris said while resting his chin my head. Amelia just scoffed and walked off. Chris turned to me with a grin on his face. “She was totally jealous.” Chris exclaimed. “Yup.. haha” I said not trying to be rude, I don’t know why him liking her annoyed me.
We pulled up to my house and I saw my mom’s car meaning she was home. I took a deep breath in and closed my eyes, it came out shaky. I never know what to expect with my mom but lately it hasn’t been good. “Hey are you good?” Chris said looking back at me. “Yea it’s just my mom- no yea I’m good.” I said but the uncertainty was clear in my voice. “Alright just let me know if you need anything.” He said with a reassuring smile. I smiled back and thanked Matt for the ride and I walked up to the front door.
I looked in the window and saw empty vodka bottles everywhere. I took another deep breath before unlocking my door and stepping in. The smell of alcohol filling my nose straight away. I walked into the living room and saw my mom passed out on the couch. I sighed and started cleaning up the mess she made. “What do you think you’re doing.” I heard my mom snap. “Oh s-sorry I thought you were asleep s-so I was just helping sorry.” “Stop apologising and I know you were snooping.” My mom said while slurring her words. “What no I wasn’t” I protest. “Yea, yea sure get out I have company coming.” I sighed knowing this meant another stranger coming and getting drunk with her, then me cleaning up. “For how long?” I questioned. “Just come back tomorrow.” She said in a monotone voice like it wasn’t a big deal. “Tommorow?! Mom where am I meant to stay.” I panicked. “I don’t know y/n figure it out.” She snapped harshly. I sighed knowing nothing good would come out of fighting with her.
I called Chris and he picked up straight away after one ring. “What’s up?” I sighed. “I don’t know if I can make it to the party tonight, sorry.” I said “what why you said yes earlier.” “It’s complicated Chris.” I said not wanting him to know everything. “If you can’t tell me why, you’re coming.” This man. “Chris seriously I can’t.” I said then hung up on him. I wasn’t bothered trying to explain everything to him.
I went upstairs put a few things in a backpack before going back down. “I’m leaving now!” I shouted to my mom. No answer, great. I rolled my eyes and left. I don’t know where I was going yet.
While I was walking I saw a familiar car drive up the road, it was Matt and Chris. The car slowed down beside me and Chris hopped out. I kept walking, I wasn’t mad at him I was just mad. He jogged up to me “hey wait” he said catching up. “What Chris.” “What’s up with you, you’re acting weird.” “No I’m not.” “Yes you are. Tell me what’s wrong, did I do something?.” He said while putting his hands on my arms. “No it’s just my mom.” I said my voice slightly breaking. I looked down not wanting Chris see me cry. We stayed like that for a moment before I let out a small sob breaking the silence. “Oh y/n.” Chris said with sympathy behind his voice while pulling me into a warm hug. Chris knew that my mom wasn’t perfect but didn’t know everything because he knew I didn’t liek to talk about. After a few moment he pulled back but still had his hand on me. “Now tell me what’s wrong.” He said firmly. “My mom- she-she doesn’t care and she said I can’t come back till tomorrow and I don’t know w-where to go.” I said rambling. “Shh shh I know, it’s ok you can stay with me.” He said embracing me in a hug again. “Are you sure, I don’t want to like intrude or be a burden, don’t worry about-“ he cut me off “I’m sure now come on.” He said taking my hand and bringing me to the car Matt was patiently waiting in.
a/n: I know this doesn’t make sense right now but trust me it will soon!
79 notes · View notes