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#best moment. kid in a candy shop. what if i cried
hartpisces · 1 month
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this whole vid 😵‍💫
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bumbleklee · 3 years
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tantrums
masterlist | 1k prompt masterlist | family series
prompt: [family series] whiny babies + tired parents = a recipe for disaster 
pairings: diluc, kaeya, childe and zhongli x female!reader (separate)
warnings: children, characters and reader are parents
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diluc
When women in Mondstadt had children, those children were the talk of the town until a new baby was born. It’s what growing up in a small town where everybody knew everybody entailed. The Ragnvindr twins were no exception to this.
Presumably, they got even more attention because of their name. All throughout their lives, the twins were given special attention or extra treats. People in shops gave them free toys, teachers passed them on exams even if they didn’t do well, and other kids were generally nicer to them. And maybe it was just for their own benefit, but no one was complaining.
But sometimes Diluc wished his family could just be treated like normal. He wanted to go into town with you and the children and go grocery shopping like any other family would, he didn’t want to be given speciality foods or discounts that no one else got.
One day, when the twins were only three, the four of you packed up your things for the day and headed into town. You were going to pick up lunch and then go to Starsnatch Cliff for a picnic – something you didn’t get to do often with your busy work schedules.
The twins were still sleepy, so both you and Diluc carried a half-asleep toddler. For most of the walk into the city, they slept peacefully against your shoulders.
When you needed to run into the market, you had to wake Isaac up. He whined when he was pulled away from your warmth and set on the ground, instantly curling against Diluc’s legs and squeezing his eyes against the bright sun.
You were only inside for ten minutes before some women started to crowd around your husband and children. You recognized them as local shop owners and normally you wouldn’t care, but you really didn’t want them to bother your family today. And Diluc didn’t have the heart to ask them to leave him alone.
You finished your shopping and hurried outside, “Hey, babe, everything okay?”
Diluc looked stressed. One arm was securely wrapped around a still-sleeping Clara and the other was holding onto the back of Isaac’s head. Diluc glanced between you and the women, “Yeah, everything is fine.”
“We were just admiring the hair on these two,” One of the women said sweetly, “Such a beautiful vermillion color.”
Your husband nervously laughed, “Thank you.”
You walked up to your family and squeezed yourself between the women. “You’re too kind,” You said flatly, forcing a smile onto your lips. “Ready to leave?”
“Aw, going so soon?” Another woman said. “I just received some new stock and wanted you to come see it. I think there’s some childrens clothing.”
“Another day,” You promised, “We’re having a family outing today.”
Just then, Isaac decided to tug on the hem of your shirt. “I wanna go home,” He whined, rubbing his tired eyes. The woman cooed at his voice.
You bent down, “We’re going on a picnic, buddy, remember?”
Isaac shook his head, “No…home!”
You internally sighed. Between the mixture of his exhaustion and the crowded woman, Isaac must have been having a terrible time. It didn’t help that the woman refused to leave, too, and your son was soon a blubbering mess.  
You switched the bag of groceries to one arm and tried to pick Isaac up in the other but he only flopped to the ground and cried harder.
“Poor baby,” A woman frowned, “Would candy help? I have some in my shop –”
“No!” You snapped. The woman seemed taken aback so you cleared your throat and rubbed your temples, “I mean, he doesn’t need the sugar. Thank you anyways.” When the women still didn’t get your hint you added, “I appreciate the help but I think things would be best if we could clear the area.”
They looked at each other for a moment before nodding, “Of course, Mrs. Ragnvindr. We’ll see you around.”
With the crowd gone, you could finally bend down to focus on your son. All you needed to do was calm him down and you could go on your picnic – as long as his sister didn’t wake up anytime soon.
kaeya
“Calla, come on,” Kaeya insisted, crossing his arms and looking down at the little girl who had flung herself to the ground. Her face pressed into the concrete dramatically.
“I want the doll,” She whined, refusing to lift her head.
“I’m aware you want the doll but I already said so. Now get up,” Kaeya said sternly. Truthfully, he had already bought Calla the doll for her upcoming birthday but he didn’t want to ruin the surprise, which meant he had to be strict for once in his life. He felt bad, especially with the way his daughter was acting like this news was the most horrific thing ever.
“What’s the point?” Calla asked, frowning.
Kaeya stifled a laugh. His daughter was only six and she was already contemplating the meaning of life over a toy. “You’re acting bad,” He said instead.
Calla’s voice was becoming more and more wavering by the minute and Kaeya was mentally preparing himself for a full-blown meltdown soon.
“I’m not afraid to pick you up and carry you straight to your bedroom,” Kaeya threatened.
“Do it.”
Kaeya sighed and ran a hand through his hair before bending down. “Here’s how this is going to work, Miss Calla. You have one last chance to get up or I’m going to carry you home and you’re going to sit in your bedroom all night.”
“I. Want. The. Doll.”
Kaeya wasted no time in bending down and scooping Calla into his arms. She resisted, of course, and ended up half-sliding out of his hold. Kaeya wrapped his arms around his waist as his daughter slumped towards the ground. This is when the waterworks started.
“No, Daddy, stop!” She yelled, squirming in Kaeya’s hold. She tried to make herself dead weight but Kaeya held onto her tightly. “Put me dooooooooown.”
Kaeya didn’t stop walking until he got to his apartment. He ignored all of the weird stares and glares he got from the residents of Mondstadt – they could deal with Calla’s tantrum if they had a problem with it.
He set her down in the middle of her bedroom, where she subsequently fell into a heap on the floor, and closed the door quickly. He waited outside of the door for a while.
Calla dramatically cried for a few minutes before anger took over and Kaeya could hear her throwing things around in her bedroom. Stuffed animals hit the walls and the sheets on her bed were ripped off. She even resorted to kicking her bedroom door as hard as she could. “The longer you’re upset, the longer you’re going to stay in there,” Kaeya warned.
His daughter only let out a scream of frustration and knocked something else over. “You’re the worst!” She yelled, falling back onto the ground.
“Yeah, yeah, we know, dad is horrible,” Kaeya ran a hand over his face and finally stepped away from the bedroom door. Where were you when he needed you?
childe
Nikolai rarely got upset. His attention-span was less than a goldfish, so he was already onto something else before he could even comprehend that he was told ‘no.’ But he was still a kid and sometimes, just sometimes, he snapped.
“Mommy, can I have ice cream?” Nikolai asked sweetly, batting his eyelashes up at you.
You turned towards your four-year-old son and placed your hand on your hip, “I already told you no,” You said firmly, “You had a lot of candy with Jia today. You can have ice cream tomorrow.”
Nikolai frowned at this, “But I was really good today.”
“I know you were,” You said, “And you had candy because you were so good.”
“How about we go down to the beach and collect seashells, instead?” Childe piped up, poking his head in from the doorway. “We can even paint the shells if you want.”
“I don’t wan’ shells,” Nikolai said. His voice was rising and he crossed his arms.
You bent down to your son, “What do you want then? Me and Daddy are trying to give you options.”
Nikolai huffed dramatically and stomped his foot onto the ground. He was only four, so he didn’t understand that too much sugar was bad for him, and it was difficult to get that across to him. You didn’t want to be strict with your son but with how he was acting, it seemed like it was leading to that.
“I want ice cream…” He whined.
“No whining,” Childe reminded him, “Mommy and Daddy can’t understand you if you’re whining, remember?”
Nikolai’s bottom lip quivered, “Can I please have ice cream?”
“No, Nikky, not tonight,” You replied gently. Tears filled Nikolai’s eyes and you pushed yourself back up to your feet. All of the parenting books you read told you that when kids turned on the waterworks, it was time to step away.
Nikolai flopped himself down onto the floor with surprising force and started to thrash his arms and legs. Overdramatic wails left his lips as his feet kicked against the tiled floor, “I want ice cream!” He screamed, refusing to look at either you or Childe.
“Nikolai.” Childe said loudly, “If you don’t stop this now, there’s going to be no ice cream tomorrow.” To his dismay, this only made Nikolai yell and scream louder. You and your partner shared a look that said ‘what the hell do we do’ before Childe ushered you to follow him to your bedroom down the hall. Your son was going to have a tantrum no matter what, you just needed to let it out.
You wondered what could have gotten Nikolai so riled up this time. Normally when you told him ‘no,’ he would just shrug his shoulders and find something else to do instead. Maybe he didn’t get a nap that day or maybe he wasn’t feeling well, but either way, you didn’t like it.
You hated hearing him cry in general and you especially hated hearing him cry over something you told him. You knew you needed to do what was best for your child but sometimes you wished you could just cave in and be his best friend – even if that meant letting him go through a sugar-induced heart attack.
Nikolai threw a fit for what seemed like an hour but was probably closer to fifteen minutes before it got eerily quiet. Childe went to check on him and almost laughed with the way he was sprawled out in the middle of the floor.
“What are we going to do with you?” He said, bending down to lift Nikolai into his arms. He carried his now-sleeping son to his bed and tucked him in gently. He kissed his forehead and closed the door behind him, just grateful that the whole ordeal was finally over.
zhongli
When Jia turned five, she had to get a minor surgery. Everything went well, thankfully, but the healing process was less than enjoyable. Zhongli was on his third day of no sleep – too preoccupied with trying to help his daughter feel less miserable. She was in a lot of pain, only sleeping when she was given pain killers, and Zhongli would do anything to take that pain away from her.
You lost count of how many pots of caffeinated-tea you had brewed in the past couple of days, for both you and your husband.
Jia was in misery. Everytime she moved a muscle, her body begged her to stop, and she was overcome with fever after fever. Her throat was too raw to speak and she was just so exhausted all the time. She wished she had never gotten the surgery.
“Mama…” Her tiny voice croaked.
You were by her side in an instant, “What do you need, lovebug?”
Your daughter mumbled something incoherent but managed to point to the bathroom with a weak arm. You scooped Jia into your arms and carried her into the bathroom, remembering to be extra gentle with her healing body.
“Want to take a bath?” You asked while she used the toilet. Jia shook her head but you turned on the water anyway, “It’ll feel good.”
You ran your hand under the water and pressed it to Jia’s forehead, watching as her eyes dimmed from the coolness of the water. You helped her undress and get into the bath and for the first time in three days, Jia looked like she wasn’t in pain (even though she probably was). You washed her hair, making sure to dig your fingers against her scalp, and filled the bath with bubbles.
She was enjoying the bath until she wasn’t.
You poured soap onto the bath puff and ran it along her body, making sure to be gentle. But when the puff grazed the healing scars from her surgery, Jia reeled away from you.
Her entire demeanor changed, rightfully so, and her first instinct was to grab the shampoo bottle and throw it at you. The bottle hit you in the head and you flinched.
Jia started to cry and that’s when Zhongli ran into the bathroom. “What’s going on?”
The action didn’t really hurt, you probably hurt Jia more from the bath puff, but it was still shocking. Jia had pushed herself into the corner of the bathtub and pulled her knees to her chest, crying even harder.
You waved your husband off, “Nothing, nothing. We just had a little accident.” You reached out for Jia but she tore away from you again.
Zhongli knelt down by the bathtub, “Darling, I know you’re tired but your mother is only trying to help you.” Jia glanced up at him, “Come on, let’s get you wrapped up.”
He helped Jia stand up from the bathtub and wrapped a fluffy towel around her body. She shivered from the cold air and you cleaned up the tub, letting Zhongli take care of her for the rest of the night.
When she was tucked into her blankets again, you sat on the edge of her bed and brushed back her head. “I’m sorry,” You said softly, “Can you forgive me?”
Jia nodded, “Yes, Mama.”
You bent down to kiss her forehead, “Get some sleep, okay? You’ll feel better in the morning.”
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Hi! Your blog has become one of my absolute favorites super quickly! I love how much thought you put into your work whenever you post, it’s wonderful! You’ve even gotten me into characters I hadn’t even put much thought into previously, and it’s been a joy to explore your interpretations of them.
With that being said, I’d love to know if you have any hcs for what marriage and “official consort” life would be like with Radahn and Morgott, and anyone else if this happens to resonate with you for other characters.
Anyways, thank you for your time, and I hope you have a lovely rest of your night!
Morning, anon, and thank you so very much for your kind words. I try my best and I'm truly glad you enjoy my blog!
Now, without further ado:
Regarding Morgott:
Morgott never thought he'd get married. In fact, he was certain he'd remain alone for the rest of his life.
So when he actually does get married, not only is he shocked (despite proposing and his consort saying yes, quite happily might I add) during the engagement period, but maintains his disbelief even after the vows have been said and the ink is dry. Even years after the wedding, I can see him having moments where he's like, "By the Erdtree, I am married." Yes, Morgott, you are married.
It's an adjustment period for both parties. Morgott because he's so used to being alone and his days filled with relative silence. It was deafening, really. Now he's never known a livelier household. For his consort, I'd imagine the idea of being Lord/Lady of Leyndell is so daunting. What if they don't make a good consort? What if they never connect to the people? WHY ARE THERE SO MANY STEPS? Not to fear, however, their lovely King is there to help them.
The day-to-day affairs can be (read: are) boring, though. Even Morgott admits to that, but his consort spends the first couple of years getting to know the logistics and responsibilities of co-ruling and Morgott is there every step of the way.
Eventually, they become confident enough to voice their own opinions regarding certain legislation. I can see his consort being particularly vocal when it comes to the treatment of Omens and the Shunning Grounds.
Morgott is the Brains and his consort is the Heart. They make a pretty effective team.
They also teach Morgott the value of self-care and adequate sleep.
Their mornings and nights will always be spent with each other.
Making out in the throne room is pretty hot, too.
Regarding Radahn: (Spoiler alert: my next Radahn x Reader fic is actually about him proposing.)
WHOOO, boy, he's like a kid in a candy shop.
His loved ones have never seen him so excited before. He may get a bit too excited sometimes because random objects in his vicinity start gravitating in midair.
One of the best damn days in his life was his wedding. He may or may not have cried.
Radahn is so damn honored that his consort said yes. He promises to make them the happiest spouse in the Lands Between. And he will make do on that promise.
Actually, both parties promise each other that and given how Radagon and Rennala's marriage ended, they hold each other to it.
Nothing really changes in their relationship other than Radahn becoming more protective even if they know how to defend themselves. And he continues to spoil the shit out of his consort. Wherever he goes, they will be at his side. Or in his arms. Hell, their feet would never touch the ground if he had his way.
Double the attention for Leonard.
Double the kisses and laughter for the couple.
If they argue, of course, it'll never last long.
Now his men have another parent. One who also blesses them with horrible dad humor.
Radahn has something to truly fight for. He fights with all the ferocity in the world so he can come back to his consort's arms once again.
I also like to think that it was also during his engagement that he had one of the most open conversations with Radagon since marrying Marika. Of course, he doesn't get the whole story though I think Radagon would have alluded to it. Radahn leaves the conversation with renewed conviction and Radagon silently prays their marriage is a loving one. But then he remembers how determined his son is and knows he has nothing to worry about. Radahn carries his lovely mother's spirit after all...
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unwantedtomost · 3 years
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it had been months — sebastian stan
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sebastian stan x fem!reader
word count: 4,401 words
summery: it had been nine months since you and your first real long term boyfriend broke up. but as they say, time makes the heart grow fonder ... and it also made the lust build up.
warnings: angst, smut, thigh riding, cheating, kind of a breeding kink at the end, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it)
a/n: i have never actually posted a whole thing on here before, so i hope this goes well. i know my writing can improve, but it’s pretty good i would say. enjoy!
It had been months since you had broken up with your long-term boyfriend. Your first long-term boyfriend you had since you arrived to the Hollywood scene. Nine months, to be exact. The same amount of time it would have been to carry a child. A hypothetical child. The same hypothetical child that ruined your relationship in the first place.
“You don’t want kids?” Sebastian questioned as soon as you entered the shared apartment. The topic of children came up at dinner with your shared friends. You, offhandedly said: “God, no,” with a laugh, not giving it a second thought. Not till now.
“Not really,” you said as you unzipped your heeled boots. “I never really have, not since I was younger.”
“Never?” He asked, heart starting to beat heavier.
You looked up to him, concerned when you saw his face. It was the same face he had on every time you guys got in a face, mixed with disappointment, maybe even hurt. You smiled, trying to lighten the situation.
“Maybe not never,” you said, putting your shoes away. “But not at least for ten years, maybe even longer. I mean, I am only twenty-two. I would like a good life without children before bringing them into the mix.”
Your warm smile and calm demeanor did nothing to elevate the tension, something inside you saying it did the exact opposite. He looked serious and upset, a combination you never saw much.
“In ten years I’ll be almost fifty,” Sebastian states.
“So? Guys never really stop shooting out good rounds. All my parts will still be intact by that time too.”
“That’s not the point.”
“Then what is it?” You were confused. Why was he acting like this?
“I shouldn’t be old enough to be the kid’s grandfather.”
Anger started to bubble up as well. This tone that he had made you pissed off. He was talking like you were stupid like you didn’t get what he was saying. The brassiness you had in general not helping your temper.
“Maybe you should have thought about that before you started dating someone sixteen years younger than you,” you shot back.
Then the yelling started. Something that could have been a deep, meaningful conversation (one that frankly should have been had way before this point) turned into a full-blown fight. You both started going in at each other, picking at old scabs that you knew would hurt. That was the point, after all, you just wanted to hurt each other. Because you were mad and upset, you guessed, but by the end of it, you weren’t even sure.
The fighting ended two hours later, you sat, slumped on the couch, huffing. You tried to catch your breath from all the yelling. Your throat was hoarse, your cheeks sticky from dried tears.
“It seems like we’re not gonna work out then,” you said, numb.
“Seems so.”
And you left that night, grabbing nothing but your phone before making your way to your closest friend’s house.
After that, you cried for two months straight. You really thought that Sebastian was endgame. That you would be together forever. That you would be happy. Ever since you caught sight of him at your first audition, you felt that he was the one. Then the universe laughed maniacally as it showed you just how fucking wrong you were.
In the past nine months, you had seen him approximately sixteen times, most being in passing, a few being at parties, and one time being at a coffee shop that you both loved. You started to frequent it less after the breakup, too scared to bump into him. Little did you know, he was doing the same thing. The day you two saw each other was both of your first times in three months.
It was all stupid small talk until it wavered, forced laughs and fake smiles fading as the reality of the situation simmered in.
“Look, y/n—”
“Don’t,” you interrupted. You knew what he was going to say, and you didn’t want to hear it. You simply couldn’t. “It was nice seeing you again, Sebastian. I hope you have a good life.” You took a few steps before turning back around for a moment. He looked at you like he was expecting you to run into his arms and make everything go back to normal. “And I really hope you meet a girl that can give you what you need.”
He tried to reach out to you, but you wouldn’t let him. You simply walked away and left him, alone. That was the last time you had spoken to him.
It was five months after the breakup until you let your friends talk you into going out again. And that night you had run into none other than the Timothee Chalamet. Numbers were exchanged then the next thing you knew, you were naked in his hotel room. After that, you went through a bit of a “hoe stage.” Every two weeks you were on a cover of TMZ, E!, or any other celebrity gossip magazine that existed with a “possible new thing.” The people ranged from Tom Holland to Madison Beer, and no one knew what was true or not. After the first few batches came out, you stopped giving a shit. You were allowed to rebound with whomever or however you wanted to, and you were taking full advantage of that.
You were so busy juggling so many people that you hadn’t even thought about Sebastian. Not till right now. Your eyes catch his from across the ballroom that you’re currently in. Your pulse quickens rapidly, you feel like you might even faint. If it wasn’t for Timothee’s hand on your waist, you were sure you would have collapsed on the spot. You watched as Sebastian’s jaw clenched just like it did whenever you did something he disapproved of. Just like it did every time he gave into himself and read one of those stupid gossip sights and saw you all over whatever arm candy you had chosen for the week.
“I’ll be right back, okay babe?” Timothee said, kissing you on the cheek. He waited for you to nod before making his way to one of his friends.
You don’t know what to do and those beautiful blue eyes you fell in love with all that time ago refuse to leave yours. You feel like you want to cry, or scream, or throw up, but you know that you shouldn’t actually do any of those things. You’d draw attention and you don’t want any more people talking about you.
Luckily, one of your best friends, Elizabeth, pulls you into a tight hug and brings you back to earth. Her body feels warm and it makes you feel safe, the smell of her strawberry shampoo bringing you comfort.
“I know,” she said before you spoke. “I saw. Are you okay? I’ll leave with you right now if you want to.”
It takes you a minute to process everything, and even though you’re running everything through your mind, nothing really sinks in.
“I’ll be fine,” you say with conviction, though you don’t know if it’s true at all. “Leaving wouldn’t accomplish anything.” You stop talking for a minute before smiling at Elizabeth. “Now, let’s go give the people what they want and take some pictures together.”
It had been two hours and the event was finally coming to a close. No more than forty-five minutes and the place would be cleared out. With that knowledge, you went to go take advantage of the free bar stocked up with expensive liquor. After schmoozing with people you did not even want to interact with, you deserve it.
“Two shots of tequila and a rum and coke, please,” you say to the rather cute bartender, shoulders slumping.
As soon as the two shot glasses were in front of you, you downed them. It burned like hell and you could only imagine the ungodly face you made. You tried to chase it with the rum and coke, but it didn’t help much. You heard a gruff voice beside you order something, one that was very familiar. When you heard a chuckle, you knew for sure who was right next to you. You froze again, that same dizzy, sick feeling coming back. You turned your head slowly to see those big blue eyes for the second time tonight, your heart surely beating loud enough that anyone in a mile radius could hear it.
“You look beautiful tonight, y/n,” Sebastian said, leaning against the bar, facing you.
“You do too,” you blurt out. Face turning red after you realized that you’re fucking stupid. “I mean, you look—shit. You look very nice, Seb—Sebastian.”
You’re so flustered and red, you want to simply sink into the floor. For a moment, you wonder why he isn’t acting the same way. It could be that he had already had some to drink or maybe he was just better at controlling his emotion. And the thought that makes dread flow through you is that maybe he is just over you.
“Are you going to an after-party?” He asks, sipping from his glass.
“I don’t think so,” you say. You were supposed to go to one with Timothee, where you were finally going to announce that you two had become official, but now you just want to go home. “Are you?”
“Probably not,” he said simply. “I’ll just have a few more of these back home and go to bed.”
“Drinking alone is no fun,” you say, hinting. You know what you are trying to get across but you don’t know why. It’s like your mouth was moving before your brain could understand what you were doing.
“It’s not ideal,” he said. “But I really don’t have a date to drink with, unlike you.” He pointed towards Timothee talking to a director you hastily met.
“He’s not my date,” you shot out. “I mean, he is, but we’re not like, dating.” Why the fuck are you talking!?!?
“It’s none of my business,” Sebastian said. He didn’t sound mean, he sounded like he was trying to comfort you.
“I know … but we’re not … if you were wondering.”
He chuckled, placing a hand on your elbow. “It was nice to see you again, y/n.”
He turned to start walking away but you called after him, making him turn back around. “Wait!” Once he was facing you, you felt like you were in a movie. “I could go for a drink.”
Sebastian smiled but his eyes dismissed you. “What are you doing, sugar?” He warned.
“I don’t know,” you said honestly. “But don’t shut me down.”
With a shared smile, he took your hand and you both left the party. On the car ride back to his apartment (that used to be your apartment), you thought briefly about how you would explain this to Timothee in the morning. Then you turned off your phone so you didn’t have to feel guilty if he decided to text you. Neither of you spoke much on the way. His hand never left its place on your thigh before you were finally there.
When he opened the door, you stumbled lightly into the apartment. Sebastian caught you by wrapping his arm around your waist. He lightly sat you down on the chair by the entrance (the same one you had sat at nine months ago). Once he had closed the door and put his things down, he came back to you to help slip off your heels.
“Are you already drunk?” He chuckled.
“No, just a wee bit tipsy.”
“Your ‘wee bit’ is usually a lotta bit.”
“Not this time, I really mean just a wee wee bit.” You suddenly burst out laughing at the fact you just said wee wee, giving away the fact that you are indeed close to being drunk.
“Maybe you don’t need anymore to drink,” Sebastian said.
“C’mon, Sebby, take that stick out of your ass,” you say, making him laugh. It makes you feel lighter like you weren’t fucking shit up again. Like you weren’t making a mistake you would regret in the morning. 
You watched as he made his way into the kitchen, pouring both of you a glass of red wine. Your favorite and most expensive red wine, the one that you had left at the apartment after the breakup. You wondered if it was the same bottle, or if he had done the same thing he was doing with you with another girl. When he came back, he handed you the glass which you placed down on the coffee table, realizing you were still in a designer white dress that you didn’t own.
“Shit,” you muttered after your realization.
“What is it?”
“This isn’t my dress.”
His eyes wandered down your figure as he thought. “You can take that off and I can hang it up for you. I’m sure there’s something here you can wear.”
You nodded before he was walking towards the bedroom, the one you once shared. You followed after him through the small hall. You looked around the room, noticing how boring it looked now. None of your decorations you had were up anymore, but the small mural you once painted in the middle of the night was still in full view. Did he think about you every time he saw it? If he did, why didn’t he just paint over it? 
Sebastian placed one of his shirts (that was your favorite one to wear) and a pair of shorts you had thought you lost on the bed.
“Well, you can get changed in here,” he stated before going for the door.
“Actually,” you called out, stopping him from leaving. “Can you unzip me please?”
He paused for a moment before nodding, slowly making his way back to you. The room went silent as he softly collected your hair and moved it to one side. Heat started to rise through your body at the close proximity he held. His hands grazed your shoulders momentarily before he steadily unzipped the expensive dress. You caught his eyes in the mirror in front of you, your cheeks immediately burning red. He finished unzipping the dress before helping you slide it off your arms. You had to cover your breasts with your arm since you hadn’t worn a bra. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen your body before, he knew his way around there better than you did, but not covering yourself just felt inappropriate. But, to be fair, the entire situation felt inappropriate. The dress fell to a pool around your feet, leaving you in nothing but a pair of lace black underwear, ones that Sebastian had bought for you one month before you broke up. You stepped out of the dress, eyes never leaving his. He bent down to pick it up, blue orbs never leaving your eyes.
“I’ll go lay this on the guest bed,” Sebastian said plainly before leaving the room and closing the door.
Your heart was beating out of your chest as you let your arm fall. Even though you hadn’t even had a conversation with Sebastian in six months, being in that moment felt more intimate than anytime you had sex with Timothee—or anyone, for that matter. You pulled on the worn-out gray tee shirt that vaguely had ‘Coca-Cola’ printed across it before going out to the living room where you found Sebastian sipping on his wine, now dress in an old tee and grey sweatpants.
The next hour felt like a blur, it was filled with giggles and stupid comments. By the end of it, the wine bottle was empty and you two were officially wine drunk. Now, you were slumped on the couch (the one that you picked out), leaning towards Sebastian, hand dancing along the cushion space between you two.
“Have you realized we never had a goodbye?” You ask, breaking the silence.
“What do you mean?” He asked, not wanting his guess to what you were talking about to be right.
“I mean, we had a fight and I left then we were done. There were no ‘this is for the best’ speeches or attempts at a goodbye kiss. One day there was an us and the next it was … nothing.” You looked up at him, an innocent yet quizzical look on your soft features.
“We don’t have to talk about this,” he said.
Not this shit again. “I know,” you said, “we don’t have to talk about anything. We’re not together anymore. We don’t even need to acknowledge each other’s existence anymore. But tonight, you did, and now we’re on your couch.”
“I don’t—” he started, but you wouldn’t let him finish.
“We don’t have to talk about it then. But, I do have another question. Did you ever fuck anyone here?” The words flowed out before you could think any longer, nothing but courage and alcohol running through your body.
“What?”
“It’s pretty self-explanatory, Sebastian. I just want to know if you ever fucked someone in my—our—this place.”
His eyes bore into yours as he spoke, voice sharp and clear. “No, y/n, I have never fucked anyone in this place. No one but you.”
That answer made you happy. This place, your place, was still pure. No random hookups had tramped through the place where you lived.
“Good,” you accidentally said out loud, making him upset.
“Why does it even matter? It’s not like you weren’t fucking those young things you were all over in public.” He started to get angry at the thought. “Who are you to question me about my sex life after you broke up with me then pranced around tabloid covers for months with different people each week?”
“Because this was our house, I just want to know it wasn’t tainted by blonde bitches with names you didn’t even remember in the fucking morning.”
“Sorry to disappoint, but you’re the only blonde bitch I’ve fucked.”
Suddenly, your hand was moving and your palm was connecting with his face. It shocked both of you, making you both freeze in place. It took ten seconds before Sebastian grabbed the wrist you hit him with, yanking it so you were closer to him. So close you could feel his breath on your face.
“Slap me again and see what fucking happens, I dare you,” he spit out.
Then your heart was in your ass as your stomach erupted with butterflies and your panties soaked with arousal.
It was almost like you lost all control over your body as you smashed your lips against his. Your hands went to the back of his neck, pulling him in closer and tugging at the hair there. The intentional scruff on his face was harsh against your smooth skin, but it only elevated your pleasure. Sebastian’s hands went around the sides of your neck, one kind of cupping your face while the other was closer to the back to pull you closer. You felt like you needed to get closer to him, get as close as possible. You needed every single inch of him over every single part of yourself. Your leg swung, straddling him.
Without thinking, you rutted yourself against his thigh, a guttural moan coming from your lips as you did. It’s not like you hadn’t been touched in a while, you just got fucked a few days ago, but you hadn’t experienced something as hot as this in so long. It was rushed and needed, you felt like you would die if he stopped. Your hips absent-mindedly grinded down against his thigh again.
“Fuck, ride my thigh baby,” he ordered. You listened, slipping into your old ways. You continued to rut against his thigh as you kissed. He knew you were getting close by the moans you were letting out into the kiss. He pulled away from your lips, watching as you were losing yourself. “I want you to cum for me, sugar.”
Your hips slowed as your mind raced a mile a minute. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of making you cum from just his thigh. What would that do to his already inflated ego? It sounded like bullshit to give into him.
“No,” you mumbled out, your hips threatening to halt their movement.
“No?” He repeated.
You sat there for a minute, silent as his eyes frantically studied your face to see what the point was. He wondered if you wanted to stop, he would understand completely, but he knew that wasn’t what it was by the way you keep clenching your thighs together. Sebastian smirked as he realized what was really happening. He grabbed your hips and started to push you down on his thigh. The problem was that you wanted to cum, but you didn’t want to cum for him. Too bad he was determined on it.
You moaned loudly as he started to drag your hips. You were inching so close, the fact that you didn’t want to give in to the feeling made it feel like it was only becoming stronger. Your hands grabbed his old t-shirt as you frantically moved your hips back and forth. Your nose scrunched and your eyes shut tight, your mouth letting out a whisper of “oh fuck”s on a loop.
“That’s it,” you heard Sebastian say even though his voice sounded like it was miles away. “Cum like a good girl.”
Suddenly, all the pressure that was building up deep within your tummy snapped and you were on cloud 9. Your heat pulsed as you road out your orgasm, Sebastian's hands helping you immensely. It took a good minute of pants as you caught your breath before you opened your eyes and came back to reality.
“You’re a fucking asshole,” you muttered to him when you finally made eye contact again.
“I know,” he smirked. “Now be a good girl, sugar, and take off your pants.”
You questioned arguing with him more, but you decided not to. You wanted him, you wanted him so fucking bad. You stood up and pulled down your shorts, doing a little spin so Sebastian could marvel at how wonderful you looked.
“As beautiful as those look on you, darling, they’d look better on the floor.”
You playfully rolled your eyes as you stripped out of the underwear as well, leaving you in nothing but an old grey t-shirt. You went back to your place on Sebastian’s lap, pulling him in for another passionate kiss. You felt like you were melting into him entirely as everything snapped back into place. Your hands roamed lower, palming him through his grey sweats. You smirked to yourself at the realization of how hard he was already and at the fact he wasn’t wearing boxers. He lifted his hips to help you pull down his pants. Just as you were getting ready to place his member in the place you wanted him the most, he halts your movement by grabbing your wrist.
“Shit, I don’t have a condom, y/n,” he warned. You frowned, upset that he had stopped you.
“I don’t care.”
“But you still have that IUD in, right?”
You grimaced because no, you did not. Your five years had run out two months ago and you hadn’t gotten around to making an appointment for a new one. You shook your head slowly side to side before he sighed. He went to pull you off of him but you stopped him by holding onto his shoulders
“I don’t care,” you repeated.
“Y/n, you know why can’t.”
“Why not?”
He looked at you in disbelief. “Besides the fact you could get pregnant?”
“I don’t care,” you said one more time. “I want you.”
He looked into your eyes, trying his best to decipher your intentions.
“Y/n …”
“Get me pregnant, Sebby,” you said, meaning it too. “I want you, I want your kids. Fuck, I want us back. I don’t care if that means kids and a white picket fence. I just want you.”
“Are you sure?”
In response, you slowly leaned down and your lips touched. It was nothing like the kisses you had shared preferably, it was slow and soft. He pulled you closer, finally letting you lower yourself down on him. You both let out loud moans as you sink down on his member.
It was like you had forgotten what making love felt like, probably because you did. In the past nine months since you had split, you hadn’t made love with anyone once. It was all just meaningless sex or hot fucking, but there was no love behind it. You didn’t love Timothee, you hadn’t loved any of your flings. Maybe it was because you never stopped loving Sebastian—you were almost sure it was because of that.
You moved up and down whilst Sebastian thrust up into you. The room was filled with moans, grunts, and praises from both ends. He started to kiss your neck as his thumb started to rub your clit. The multiple amounts of stimulation only brought you closer to your climax.
“I’m gonna, fuck—I’m close.”
“I know, babygirl,” he cooed. “Look at me.” You looked into his blue orbs, feeling your climax inching ever so closer. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, yes, yes,” you whined out as your hips moved faster. “Cum inside me, Sebastian. Get me—fuck, god—put a fucking baby in me.”
With your confirmation, he flipped you on your back, thrusting harder. The hand that wasn’t toying with your clit interlaced with yours. Your grip on each other squeezed harder as you neared your finishes. You wrapped your legs around him as his hips started to stutter.
“Cum with me, baby,” Sebastian groaned.
You finally let the coil that built inside of you snap with his permission. Moments later, he busted inside of you, making you both yell out. He collapsed on top of you, trying his best not to crush you under his weight. You both panted for minutes before you finally spoke up.
“I love you,” you said. He lifted his head, looking into his eyes. “I never stopped.
“Neither did I,” Sebastian said. “Did you mean it, you want to have kids?”
“I want to do anything if it means I can be with you. Anything.”
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rae-gar-targaryen · 3 years
Text
loved you once [angel reyes x fem!reader]
A/N: So, this is NOT the Angel fic I previewed the other day. That one (and the EZ fic) is STILL COMING, I PROMISE! This just jumped into my head and wouldn’t leave. And I wrote it with a speed I am heretofore unfamiliar with (heretofore? Did I use that right?) I invented a tattoo and an ex-girlfriend for Angel, and I fudged the timeline a bit. So, apologies in advance for that. 
As always, if you want a tag in anything I write for Angel, EZ, the Mayans fandom (or anything else), please feel free to send me a message or an ask, or add yourself to the taglist (link in profile). 
Pairing: Angel Reyes x fem!tattoo artist!reader (as always, the appearance is ambiguous, but the reader is described as having female pronouns/parts. Also, the reader here speaks a bit of Spanish. I’m half Mexican, so I do imagine a latinx reader, but I hope I’ve written this so you can imagine yourself with no restriction.)
Word Count: 15.3K (HAHAHA WHAT THE FUCK all for a TWO AND A HALF MINUTE SONG, ARE YOU KIDDING ME????) of ANGST! (SERIOUSLY THIS IS SO ANGSTY) lyrical nonsense and the remnants of sticky, cotton-candy sadness … fluff that makes you feel empty. 
Warnings: ANGST, non-explicit references to infidelity, sexual references and sexual content, oral (male receiving), fingering and other nastiness -- so 18+ ONLY, please! Canon-typical douchebaggery, references to a past relationship, song references and poetry. (It is me, so yeah, poetry.)
Summary: You and Angel may as well be strangers now. But why? After all, you loved him once. And he loved you, right? Based on the song “Loved you Once” by Clara Mae. Listen here. 
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--
We don't need to be best friends, we don't need to hang again. But tell me why we have to be strangers because I loved you once?
What were you doing here? You haven’t been back to the clubhouse in months. Not since -- well, you know. You hadn’t talked to him since then, either. But that wasn’t your own doing. 
No, Angel had erected a veritable wall of silence, and you respected him enough not to breach it. 
That was what relationships were all about, anyway, right? Mutual respect of the other’s needs? So when Angel had told you in no uncertain terms that your relationship was over, you were … upset. Understandably. You wanted to sit with him, talk about where this sudden insistence that you depart his life had come from, but he was resolute. With the absolute air of authority that comes with either a great deal of thought, or borne of virtually sudden external influence, with nothing in between. He clearly didn’t want to sit and talk about it. 
And so you didn’t. 
Ever mindful of his wellbeing, and when he was and was not receptive to communication. 
"It ain't working," he had said. You had settled for merely imagining the faraway look in his large, oilslick eyes, since he was much more interested in staring at his boots and the grooves in his floor, his forearms laid over spread thighs, unmoving and resolute from his spot at the end of the bed. Refusing to meet your eyes. 
From your seat next to him, you made to brush the arm closest to you with your fingers. When you touched, he gave no indication that you were even there. That he even felt you. Which you knew was bullshit. He always felt you. 
"Angel, what --" you hated the way your voice cracked as you tried to ask him what the hell was going on. You hated how you had sounded so small and quavering to your own ears. That wasn't who you were. You were clear, outspoken. It was always one of the things Angel said he loved about you. Loved.
You didn't know this, of course, but Angel hated it, too. How you’d sounded in that moment. Hated that his words had taken the fire out of yours, your voice unfamiliar in its timidity. 
"It ain't working," he repeated. "I can see it. Not my fault you can't." 
That was it. 
No "I'm sorry, querida." 
No "I hope we can stay friends." 
Not that you would expect an apology, or anything as cliché as a "let's be friends," from a steadfast man like Angel. Predictable in his volatility. 
You should have pushed back. Demanded an answer. You hated that you didn’t, the shock and sudden sadness morphing you into a silent, crystalline girl you didn’t recognize. Your eyes welled with tears, turning your head away from where Angel sat -- at least you wouldn’t let him see you cry. Even if you knew he knew the tears had spilled over your lashes and down your cheeks were of his own doing. 
You had arrived back at his place a day after your tense "conversation" to discover that your items you had come to reclaim were tossed into a box and left outside of the door. 
You had knocked once, in the hope that if Angel was home, he’d at least come to the door to shout through it, or, heaven forbid, would open it so you could look him in the eyes just once more while he shattered you. Your knock was met with silence, though you could have sworn you felt Angel on the other side of the door. 
In the months since then, you had cried (obviously), you had questioned (it was sudden, it wasn't just you; your friends were surprised, too), but most importantly, you had persevered. 
You had taken a bunch of new clients and inked some pieces you were incredibly proud of. You had gone out with your friends a few times, always with a wary eye on the door of the local dive, ya know… you never knew who would walk in.
Santo Padre is a small town, after all. And the cracks in your soul were nowhere close to healed. No molten gold to spill in and repair the fissures of your heart, rendering metamorphosis of something broken to something flawed, but beautiful. You sat, alone, still just… flawed. You had never felt less beautiful. Even after all this time. 
And your friend Aneesa, ever the supporter, would stop at nothing if it meant hyping you up enough to leave your cave of blankets, sheet masks, and comfort movies. Your only rule? All nights out with Aneesa were strictly girls’ nights. She was gracious and understanding of this rule, of course. She and Gilly had been together a touch longer than you and Angel. 
And if Angel had ever asked Gilly to ask Aneesa about you? Well… you never heard about it.
Not that Angel would do any of that. Shit like that was so middle-school. 
So, here you were. Back at the clubhouse after months of self-imposed exile for the sake of self-preservation. 
Coco had texted you -- the first you’d directly heard from anyone within Angel’s circle, inviting you to a patch party for some nameless, faceless newbie. The invitation had a string attached to it, of course -- the tattoo artist’s chair in the corner of the clubhouse needed a resident for any partygoers jonesing for new ink. Certainly, the new patch would need something decidedly “Mayan” to show off his new status. 
You had hesitantly agreed -- Aneesa would be in attendance of course, and offered herself as a human-sized buffer to separate you from people you were otherwise hoping to avoid. 
--
Now, perched near the tattoo chair, you busied yourself with setting out your portfolio of completed pieces, sketches and most-requested designs. You wiped down the chair a few more times than strictly necessary, but you wanted to be ready for anyone who might plop themselves down for a new piece of art. 
The main room of the clubhouse was sweltering -- a familiar blend of desert heat, cigarette smoke, citronella, and the smell of citrusy, foamy beer. The dim lighting and thundering bass giving everything a slightly blurry edge in your party-periphery. You glanced across the room at where Aneesa and Gilly sat together on a corner couch, thighs pressed together. Aneesa tossed her head back in a full-bodied laugh at something Gilly had whispered into her ear, swatting his arm -- Gilly’s reciprocal smile demonstrating his pleasure at having garnered such a reaction from his girl. 
A wave of cheers and noise accompanied the thwack of the clubhouse door swinging open -- more Mayans pouring in, jostling one another's shoulders, slapping each other on the arms, and good-naturedly cajoling. 
There was Coco, mid-pull of the cigarette between his lips, quicksilver eyes flashing around the room, taking stock of who was where. EZ followed, million-watt smile on full display as he gently guided a pretty girl with long, inky hair through the bottleneck at the entryway. 
If EZ was ambling his way in, then, surely, not far behind ...
With an arm around a tall, broad guy you hadn’t seen before, was Angel. Midway through a joke with the guy you assumed was the new patch, you took the opportunity to study the man you had once considered the moonlit orbit of your entire world. 
You hated to admit it to yourself, but he looked good… His arms still replete with thick, corded muscle. His hair was a tad longer on top than you remembered, slicked back and belied with cleanly-cropped sides. His smile as warm and blinding as the cruel light at the end of your better dreams, only for you to awake each day alone. 
As you continued your silent study, you were surprised to see -- still adorning his left arm … the tattoo you had given him on the day you had first met. You had thought he would have blacked it out by now … a cover-up on top of a cover-up. 
But there it was --- the soft, leafy greens creeping down his forearm on sharp vines, abutted with bursting blooms -- small, ornate gladiolus buds and a sprig of purpling rosemary. Such a flowery piece on the arm of someone like Angel might have been laughable. But if anyone dared, he would simply stare, stone-faced, with burning eyes and a set jaw, ready to ask just what they thought was so fucking funny. 
To you? It was perfection. It was remembrance. 
‘Cause I loved you, once… 
---
You had moved to Santo Padre from Oakland. Hardly an axis-tilting move, but significant enough to you. 
Your friend Oliver had offered you a seat at his tattoo shop. And you? You were positively itching to get out of the city. A few too many bad nights with a few people you could no longer in good conscience consider friends. 
So, here you sat, resident of one of two chairs in this corner parlour off the so-called “main” drag in sweltering, dusty Santo Padre. 
Your books were pretty clear … Not that you attributed much logic to the ebb and flow in any conceivable pattern of the tide that was tattoo shop patrons, but January seemed an agonizingly slow month. You filled the idle time with keeping the shop neat, disinfecting and re-disinfecting every surface, and organizing Oliver’s books. 
And if you weren’t dreaming up new sketches and designs for the more adventurous prospective client, you were jotting idle lines of lyrical poetry in the margins of your sketchbook. 
If the month dragged on like this, you were sure you could publish an entire book of moody, mid-winter prose that would make Charles Bukowski want to drown himself in stiff Cabernet. 
The dinging of the bell above the parlour door yanked you from your doodling stupor. You looked up to see who had come in, your gaze met with a towering, golden-skinned man donned in a leather vest, his boots squeaking on the shop’s linoleum floor as he made his way to the front desk. He leaned over it and rapped his silver-ringed hand against the top with the ease and comfort of someone who had been in many times before. If the ink trailing his arms was any indication, he may as well be a regular, though you hadn’t seen him in before. There was no way you could forget that jawline, and those shoulders. 
“Yo,” he called in greeting, eyes flashing to where you stood, walking to meet him at the counter. You swore you saw his gaze dart over your form, giving you the old up-down. An easy smile graced his full lips as he made himself comfortable leaning against the counter.  
“Oliver here?” 
You shook your head, the action serving to answer his question and --hopefully-- clear your head of the foggy spell this man was casting over you with his presence alone.
“Nah, sorry. He’s guest-chairing at his buddy’s shop in L.A. Did you have an appointment?” 
“I look like the kind of guy with a datebook?” He chuckled at his own joke. “No appointment, corazón.” 
“Walk-in? Always a risky strategy,” you lilted. 
“What can I say? I’m a risk-taker,” he replied with the practiced ease of breezy flirtation. 
You smiled softly, grabbing Oliver’s calendar from the desk, flipping to the following week. “He’ll be back in next week, if you want to wait?” 
“That’s no good for me, babe, I’ll be out of town.”
“Ah.” You huffed a bit through your nose “Bike rally?” You asked, gesturing at his worn leather kutte, cringing internally a little at the teasing edge your voice had taken on. Were you always this bad of a flirt? 
The man looked at you shrewdly for a beat -- seemingly trying to discern just how much fun you were making of him before taking mercy on you and peeling back the slight layer of awkwardness the conversation had taken.  He scrubbed the back of his neck before confirming,
“Uh, yeah, actually,” he rumbled a chuckle. “Why? You wanna go?” He raised a full brow at you in a mild challenge. 
Your eyes widened at his seemingly-serious invitation. You took in the quirk of his lips, causing the slightest crinkle at the corner of his warm eyes -- the look of a man borne of good humor and who smiled often. It was endearing, and if you were honest, made you melt a little. Even if you now realized he was teasing you. 
“Sorry, guapo,” you cracked a smile of your own, gesturing at the empty shop. “As you can see, I’m a very busy girl. Highest of demand.” 
“Claro,” he replied. “So, I better get in while the getting’s good, huh? Your chair open now?” 
“Uhm,” you chewed your lower lip, now slightly nervous at the prospect of spending more time with this man. “¿Quieres esperar para Olí? I won’t be offended. You haven’t even seen any of my pieces.” 
A beat of silence passed between you both, the man seemingly weighing his options. 
"I mean," You broke the silence and leaned forward, lightly tapping a fingernail against his bicep. “What if my art style doesn’t suit the king of the bikers?” 
"Something tells me you'll suit me just fine." His smirk was full-bore now. He didn't miss a beat, did he?
You were silent, probably for a few moments too long. Was he actually flirting with you? You blinked. He probably flirts with everyone ... get over yourself, you internally chided.
"Angel," the man said, recovering the moment and holding out a large, ringed hand for you to shake. You gave him your name, shaking his hand firmly. 
You nodded your head over your shoulder, toward your chair. 
"Well, come on back, Angel, you can tell me about what we're doing today."
Angel followed you back to your station, and you could swear you felt his dark eyes on your form as you walked, the thought that this man was looking at you with any kind of discerning attention made your cheeks warm a little. He folded his long body into the chair you gestured toward, and you took the rolling seat next to him. He proffered his left arm to you, tracing down a spot on his forearm.
"Just wanna cover this up," he paused, letting you observe the offending ink. "It's about time." 
"'Clara Forever,' huh?" You took in the faded, loopy lettering down his forearm. "Who's Clara?" Your tone was gently teasing by nature, but he seemed to clam up a bit at the question, regarding your sharp tongue with sharper eyes.
"Well, it wasn't forever," he finally bit out, shoulders now a little more tense than before.
"Aw, cariño," you sighed in good-natured taunting. "Didn't anyone ever tell you the number one rule of tattoo? 'Forever' is a certain jinx. And a name is almost never a good idea… unless it's your dog's."
You made a sweeping hand gesture over the rest of his person, your eyes noticeably cataloguing the ink adorning most of the real estate on his arms and what little you could see of the top of his chest. 
"How did anyone let you get this far without telling you the rules?"
He relaxed at the humor in your soft voice, comfortable now that he had confirmation that you were teasing him rather than seriously ridiculing. His posture relaxed once more, he waggled his eyebrows at you, also teasing,
"Le sorprendería saber que nunca fui uno para seguir las reglas?” He asked. Would it surprise you to learn that I was never one for rules? 
"¿Tú?" Your eyes widened in mock surprise. “Para nada.” Not at all.  
"Hey," he swatted your arm gently. "Cuidaté, niña. Insulting your customers? I can see why your chair is empty." He chuckled at his own little jab as you busied yourself gathering your supplies.
You turned and reached for him, holding his arm in one hand and running your now-gloved thumb over "Clara Forever." 
"So?" You queried, "What are we doing with this? How do you want to cover it?" 
Angel shrugged, the leather adorning his shoulders creaking ever-so-slightly with the movement. 
"Figured I would just black it out. I've been putting it off long enough. To hell with her anyway, yaknow?"
"Hmm…" you considered his proposal. "I could do that, if that's what you really want. Easy enough. But…" you trailed.
He shifted in the chair, arching an eyebrow at you.
"But?" He pressed.
Now it was your turn to shrug. You released his arm from your grip and gestured to the booklet containing photos of your most prized work. 
"Why waste the opportunity to give yourself something you really want?" You handed him the book. "Besides… from the looks of things, you have limited real estate left on this arm. May as well fill it with something… more you?” You made to hand him the scrapbook. “You can see what else I've done. See if anything sparks an idea." 
Angel regarded you for a moment. Leaning forward in the chair and slightly more into your space, eyes never leaving yours. He took the edge of the book, deliberately brushing his fingers over yours as he did so, making you hold your breath a little. If Angel noticed, he had the decency not to say anything. 
“Why not?”
You exhaled softly as he leaned away again, flipping his way through your book. 
As he scrutinized the photographic renderings of your pieces, you took the chance to really take him in. His strong jaw and full lips were objectively pleasant, abutted by deliberately-shaped facial hair. He had a prominent brow, something that would surely give away his feelings, even if he decided not to verbalize them. There was no hiding a frown or a smile on that face.  You fiddled with your fingers as he flipped through the pages. 
“This is some seriously top-notch shit, querida,” he voiced his approval, followed by a warm smile. He flipped his way through your minimalist renderings, floral pieces, lines of script, and one particularly involved piece with a burgundy phoenix and lifelike flames...
“Yeah?” You couldn’t hide the pleasure in your voice that he might think of you in a positive light. “Which one do you like?” 
He flipped the book to you, gesturing at a geometric planetary canvas piece you had etched down a prior client’s thigh. 
“Did you think of that one?” 
“The client had their ideas, I just execute, I guess… That was a fun one.” You shrugged, glancing at your shoes scuffing at the linoleum, suddenly feeling very shy under his scrutiny.
“Hey, don’t do that,” he leaned forward once more, his fingers gently brushing along your chin to bring your eyeline to his. “Don’t downplay your talent. You’re a badass. Own that shit.” He gave you a soft wink, releasing your chin from his grip.
Um, wow.
Was it always this hot in the back of the shop? Or were you just spontaneously combusting? Did that seriously just happen?
All you could do was nod. 
“Aight,” he crossed his legs at the ankles, making himself comfortable in the chair. “I’ve decided.” 
“Yeah?” You breathed, “What’ll it be?” 
As if he was doing nothing more complicated than ordering fries, Angel pointed at your book. “Dealer’s choice.” 
“Excuse me?” You couldn’t believe he was just going to trust you to cover up his ex’s name etched into his arm. “¡Oye! Did you hear nothing I said earlier about walk-ins being risky? Nothing about the rules?”
Angel scoffed. “About as well as you heard that I don’t give a shit about rules, babe,” He crossed his arms over his chest. “You like rules, huh?” 
Oh. The rumbling tone his voice had taken on with his last question did not go unnoticed by you. If there was any heat to spare in this shithole desert-town, it was now one hundred percent flooding through your body. 
But you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d had that effect on you… (although, let’s be real, he probably, definitely, already knew).
“Fine, Angelito,” the mocking tone had returned to your voice. “But unlike Clara, this one’s gonna be forever. If I find out you cover up my art, I’m gonna blacklist you at every shop in Southern California.” You raised an eyebrow at him in a challenge. “Can you live with that?”
Angel nodded. 
“Do your worst, Vince.” 
You wrinkled your nose at the moniker. “Vince?” 
“Yeah,” he seemed so assured in his own cleverness. “Like Van Gogh?” 
You rolled your eyes. 
“Van Gogh!?” You feigned offense, hand-over-heart, lashes batting. “Not even Frida? Come oooon, Angelito.” 
He chuckled. Shifting in the chair and offering his arm to you so you could get him ready. 
“You gotta earn ‘Frida,’ dulcita.” 
“Everyone’s a critic,” you sigh, shifting your focus and taking stock of the space on Angel’s arm and what you had learned of him so far.
Someone who was seemingly confident and breezy, whose rough exterior belied something softer that was just out of reach. Someone who clearly cherished things and people he adored, if the tribute you were now covering was anything to go by. And, by the same token, more than a little impulsive. He wore his heart on his sleeve, apparently literally. 
You gathered your inks and began to work, your playlist and the buzzing of the tattoo gun filling the silence. 
It’s not like you had any reason to know it, but Angel considered you as you were working, admiring your focus and the intensity with which you afforded your art. Was he a little nervous about the fact that you were free-handing a design for him off the top of your head? Maybe... But what was life without a little risk? And he certainly wouldn’t mind a little risk with you. You were, it was obvious to him, very pretty. It was more than a little off-putting how easily you traded quips with him, seemingly unaffected by his presence and everything that came with it. If it wasn’t for the little hitches in your breath when he gently flirted with you, he wouldn’t have anything to go off of in terms of your interest. Something that was both respectable and maddening to him. 
He reached his other arm over to the side-table, grabbing your sketchbook and idly flipping through the etchings. 
Not only was the book filled with little designs, splashes of watercolor mixing with pen and charcoal, but he noticed the cramped words in the margins, perusing at his leisure and ignoring the itching buzz of the needle on the skin of his other arm.
“So, not only a Vince, but a Frost,” he broke the silence. 
You paused your work, wiping your brow with the back of your hand and looking at him with a question in your eyes.
He tapped his finger along the lines of prose in your book. “A poet,” he said. 
“Ah,” you said. “Uhm, more like a bad poet,” you chuckled, embarrassed. You made to begin again, when Angel gently gripped the wrist of your free hand. 
“The fuck did I just say?” He lightly tugged, forcing you to look into his maddeningly honey-dark eyes. “Don’t brush off your shit. Would Frida do that?” 
You regarded his eyes for a moment longer, darting your gaze to his pouty lips, resolutely set in their mission of imparting some of his confidence onto you. 
“Point taken, Angel,” you pulled your hand from his grip, which he released, trailing his fingertips over your hand as he did so. “I’m the greatest poet who ever lived, you’ve convinced me. Fuck William Shakespeare.” 
“Yeah,” Angel boisterously agreed, pleased to be bolstering you but surprising you with the little barking shout, “Fuck that dude!” 
You chuckled, shaking your head and silently returning to your work, the silence filled once more with the pleasant buzzing as you drew away. 
When you were finished, you released Angel’s arm, allowing him to inspect the clean lines of the greenery that you had drawn out of his former-love tribute. What were once loopy, cursive letters were now vines creeping steadily along his forearm, soft, yellow and red gladiolus buds emerging from where Clara’s name had once sat, neatly finished with the clean lines of the purpling sprig of rosemary along the edge of the piece. 
Angel was speechless, leaving you to marinate in your nerves. 
“It’s …” he started, “... flowery,” he supplied, lamely. 
“No shit it’s flowers,” you shot back, feeling a little defensive now, but wanting to make a quick recovery. “And they’re for you, Angel.” 
He seemed puzzled. 
“Gotta say, Vince, this is the first time a chick’s gotten me flowers,” he chuckled, “Guess they won’t die?” 
“They won’t,” you assured. “They really are for you, you know? Look at you, the rest of your ink. What it covered. You’re clearly a man formed by your experiences. It only seemed right, si? Gladiolus? They’re for remembrance. Rosemary? Symbolizes thoughtfulness and memory.” 
You continued as you began wipe the piece clean before wrapping it in new saran-wrap, “Your memories and choices make you who you are, sure. But you never know… something good could bloom from them, through the cracks."
His silence at the end of your little soliloquy was deafening. He hated it, you were sure of it. Fuck. Why did you have to get so fucking clever with him? You should’ve just done some black ink in something tribal, something masculine. What the fuck was wrong with you??
You dared to sneak a glance at his face, only to find that he was already staring at you, lips softly upturned in the hinting bloom of a smile, tarpit eyes twinkling with a good-natured mirth he would come to reserve just for you. 
“Fuck Shakespeare. That was damn beautiful, Frida.” 
The heat had returned to your cheeks, standing quickly. 
You stripped off your gloves, and made to turn your way to the counter, gathering the aftercare sheet and balm for Angel to take with him. 
You spun back toward him before he could get up.
“Oh! Can I take a picture?” You held up your phone, shaking it lightly. “For the ‘gram?” 
“Sure thing,” Angel dutifully held his arm under the lamp you had used to work, letting the fresh ink and colors pop against the golden dunn of his skin. 
You took a few photos, deciding to scroll through your camera roll later on and post your favorite. You made quick work of wrapping his arm in a sheet of clean plastic wrap before relinquishing your hold on his arm, turning to walk back to the counter. 
“Uhm,” you trailed … the telltale squeak of Angel’s boots on the linoleum indicating he was following you back to the front of the shop. You assembled everything into a bag for Angel to take with him, grabbing one of your cards from the front card-holder, and quickly jotting your number on the back next to your where the instagram handle for your art page was neatly printed, hoping he didn’t notice your sneaky little move. 
Angel resumed his comfortable lean against the counter, turning and tilting his forearm, scrutinizing your work. 
“It’s gonna be a clean one-fifty, Angel.”
He looked slightly surprised at the figure, a light frown dusting his features. 
“You sure about that? For the size, and the color, and time and everything? It’s been, like, hours.”
You shrugged. 
“We’ll call it the friends-and-family rate.” 
He gave you a long look, very clearly looking you up and down now, a prolonged edition of the greeting he had graced you with when he had entered your shop mere hours before. 
“And is that what we are now, querida? Friends?” 
How was it even possible for his voice to reach such a low register when he said these things to you?
While your insides flip-flopped at the flirtation, you hoped your face was the impassive mask you were trying to school it into. You subtly brushed your slightly-sweating palms against the frayed hem of your shorts before bringing an elbow up to the counter, resting your chin in your palm, lightly batting your lashes at him before responding...
“Sure,” you replied. There! Easy, breezy, cool-as-you-please. How does it feel, Angel?
“One day with you and friends already?” He rapped his ringed hand gently against the counter. “Can’t wait to see where we’re at tomorrow.” 
He swiped the bag off of the counter, tossing a few crisp bills onto the countertop and a wink over his shoulder before exiting the shop. 
You counted the bills on the counter, watching as Angel left the building.
Holy shit.
Three hundred bucks. He had tipped you 100 percent of what you charged him.
Cheeky.
Maybe Santo Padre wasn’t so bad, after all… 
---
Now, staring at him from across the room made you feel like you were drowning in the sickly-sweet cotton candy of sugared dreams, now lost to time. The saccharine balm melted to acrid wax, leaving you with only the tinge of bitterness. 
You were jostled out of your reverie by the sudden appearance of EZ’s blocky frame, ambling toward you with the same girl from before on his arm. 
He greeted you with a slow wave and a soft smile. 
“Hey, girl,” he greeted, clearly unsure of how much friendlier and closer he should approach you. 
You took mercy on Angel’s sweet, (big) little brother, opening your arms slightly for a hug. EZ took to the gesture like an over-excited golden retriever, scooping you up and spinning you once, before putting you back where he found you, slightly dizzier than you were before. 
He offered your name to the girl by his side, who looked pleasantly amused at the spectacle before her, her amusement melting to recognition at the name EZ had imparted to her. 
Ah. So she knew who you were. 
You tried not to let that realization sour your encounter, easing a practiced smile onto your features and offering your hand to the girl to shake. 
“Oh!” EZ chuckled. “This is Gaby -- er, Gabriela.” 
“Encantada,” you eased, gently shaking her hand before having a realization of your own. “Gaby, as in Leti’s friend?” 
She nodded, a warm smile illuminating her already sunshiney features. You could see why EZ obviously liked her. She had the practiced social grace of a debutante, but the friendly aura of someone you had known for your entire life. 
“I hope you’re keeping Ezekiel out of trouble,” you teased gently. 
“Only as well as I can,” she replied. EZ rubbed the back of his neck as you two gossiped about him like he wasn’t standing right there. 
“Listen, hermanita,” EZ began, swirling the dregs of his beer around the bottle clutched in his hand as the conversation lapsed into comfortable silence, “About Angel --” 
That was a hard no. 
“Coco!” You called as you spotted the lithe man prowling through the crowd after obtaining a drink from the bar, effectively shutting EZ up. 
Coco sidled over, slinging an arm over your shoulder and nodding in greeting to EZ and Gaby. 
“Wassup, chiquita? Over here with all the cool kids?” 
“You know damn well I was never cool enough for the cool kids,” you knocked your shoulder into Coco’s good-naturedly. 
“Dunno about that, pequeña,” Coco took a drag of his cigarette, sighing as he exhaled. “I’ve got some pretty cool body armour thanks to you.” 
“All in a day's work,” you mock-saluted. You were doing great. Keep it light, keep it friendly. You may be able to make it out of this unscathed, after all. 
Gaby and EZ were speaking softly to one another just to your side, as you and Coco continued your conversation. 
“So, who’s the new guy?” You asked, nodding over to where Angel and the still-unnamed newbie were tossing back shots. You tried to ignore that each one had girls placed on each of their laps. Well, mostly you were trying to ignore one girl placed on one lap; tried to ignore as ringed fingers trailed up and down her thigh hypnotically as he howled in laughter at something the new guy had said. 
The longer you stared at the way he was touching her, the more You thought you could feel it on your own skin. And you knew all too well how that touch felt. Memories, make you, right? 
You blinked harshly, turning your face back to Coco’s, only to find his hawkish eyes trained on you as he continued to smoke. Now you were certain he had seen everything you had, and more. And you cursed yourself for slipping. Because nothing slipped past Coco. 
He took mercy on you nevertheless. 
“Andres. He’s aight. You may not remember him from before, when he was just a prospect.” 
“Guess not,” you agreed, shrugging amiably, suddenly very interested in toying with the hem of your flowy little summertime skirt. 
“Mierda,” you heard Coco hiss, glancing up to see none other than the new guy -- Andres -- walk over, his arm around the waist of the girl from his lap, accompanied by none other than Angel Reyes, furnished with his own lap-turned-arm candy. She was giggling in his ear, popping her gum and bumping her hips against Angel’s as she walked by his side. 
You felt EZ stiffen from your other side. 
Great. 
The easy smile you’d had when conversing with Coco now felt positively screwed into place, settling unnaturally, a stranger's face made up of your own features. 
Andres smirked at you in greeting, eyes trailing over you -- the most unwelcome iteration of that gesture in this context to-date. 
“I hear you’re the girl to see about some ink.” 
You bit back the snarky response that rose to your tongue. You see anyone else here, tonto?
“Sure am,” you replied, cool as you pleeeeaseeee. Maybe a little too cool. The ice in your voice was obvious to everyone except the strangers before you. 
You really were doing great, weren’t you? 
“Great,” the new meat brushed the girl off from his side, plopping unceremoniously into your chair. “You did that right?” He pointed behind you to where Angel was standing, gesturing at his arm and your miniscule mural of memorial greenery. 
“Cierto.” You nodded, sparing Angel’s arm the barest of glances.
“Aight, well, none of that girly shit, alright, sweetheart? Angel may have had the good grace not to say anything, but flowers ain’t really my style, yeah?” 
What the fuck.  
Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Coco visibly tense next to you, obviously displeased at the uncalled-for critique of your work. Of a piece he himself had often admired. He would never admit it, but he thought the story behind it was even better. It’s like you had walked out of some shitty romcom Leti watched with her tittering friends and into Angel’s dreams, sinking yourself beneath Angel's skin like a dream he would recount to all of his friends. Coco knew the most about you by nature of Angel's second-hand stories when you were together. Although Coco thought, once he had met you, Angel's stories didn't do you justice. How wonderful and talented you were. How warm and welcoming.
Angel watched the exchange silently, clearly none too keen to defend the piece you had designed for him. That had come to mean so much to you. 
That stung.
You winced, almost imperceptibly. But you were certain Coco saw it, not much escaping his sniper’s eyes. EZ, with his owlish perception and photographic memory, certainly would have seen it, too. If Angel saw it, it’s not like he was going to say anything now. 
Where the fuck was Aneesa? Wasn’t she supposed to be heading this kind of shit off? You glanced over at the couches in the corner where your friend had previously been sitting with GIlly, and was now nowhere to be seen. Fuckin’ typical. 
“Aight, no más flores." No more flowers. “What were you thinking, then?” 
That was you, ever the professional. 
Andres showed you his phone, a rendering of an old-style beastly cat, like a panther from an old folktale, pulled up in his image search. 
“Something for a warrior,” he puffed his chest slightly. “I was thinking here,” he shrugged out of one side of his new kutte, tugging the button-up to expose one side of his chest. 
“You got it.” 
You set to work, cleaning the area to be inked and getting your tools ready. The rest of the group drifted as the project progressed, clearly not feeling the need to stand there for the entire duration of a tattoo. 
You were acutely aware that Angel hadn’t stepped as far away as the others, circumventing the periphery of yours and Andres’ space, not close, but not far. And he still had yet to even look in your direction. Or acknowledge your existence. 
You tried your best to ignore the icy shard of Angel’s indifference that was currently wedging its way between your ribs and lodging itself firmly once more into your heart. At this point, you guessed it would never heal. 
“Sooooo,” Andres lolled his head to the side of his chair to face you, slinging back the beer from the bottle dangling in his free hand. “I haven’t seen you in a while. You were around a little bit when I was prospecting.” 
You opted not to respond, aware that Angel was likely listening, and you would need to choose any words carefully. Andres had no such reservation, clearly uncaring about who might be listening. He pressed on, each word more infuriating than the last. 
“You were Angel’s little sidepiece for a while, right?”   
You tried to keep your despairing sigh to a quiet little nothing. 
“Sure.” You offered lamely. “Sorry, man, I don’t mean to be rude, but I really work better when I’m not talking.” 
“S’alright, jaina. I can talk enough for the both of us.” 
You hmm’d nonchalantly at that, lip imperceptibly curling over your teeth in distaste at the moniker. You chose instead to focus on the piece. You wouldn’t give a shitty tattoo, even if this guy was a douchebag. And the pleasant buzz of the tattoo gun. Maybe you were etching the lines a little sharper than strictly necessary. If he noticed, Andres gave no indication, continuing on with his diatribe: 
“So, what happened? I mean, Angel knocked that other chick up? Ouch, right?” 
You were now seeing red, the edges of your vision blurring slightly with angry, pinpricking tears. Thank fuck you were just about done with this. 
“But that’s the life right? I mean, we’re not exactly known for being steady with just one chick. You know how it goes ...” He eyed you up and down again, lingering a little too long on your legs before finishing his thought with a smirk “... Clearly.” 
You hated his use of “we,” like he was in any way, shape, or form worthy to be in the class of man EZ, Coco, Bishop, or, hell, even Angel, was. None of them would talk to you like this. No matter what Angel had done. 
You shut off the gun, pushing back from the space with Andres, spinning in your chair, and grabbing the clean wipes for Andres’ fresh ink. As you dabbed the area and made to bandage it, the oblivious biker grabbed your wrist. None of the teasing fun or gentleness in the same gesture that Angel had imparted when you had first met. No, Andres’ grip hurt. It was all bruising possession and entitlement. 
“I think we would have fun, you and I.” He leaned forward and far too into your space, the stale stink of warm beer heavy on his breath. 
You wrenched your grip from his, standing quickly and offering him a tight smile, cheeks flaming with your anger and embarrassment. How dare he speak so trivially of your relationship with Angel. How dare he think you were so easily won with his kutte and shitty attitude. 
“Uhm,” you tugged your fingers agitatedly through the ends of your hair, chewing your lip. “You’re all set, Andres. Aftercare sheet is on the table next to you. It’s on the house. Happy patch party!” Your voice sounded so shrill and fake in your own head, but you just didn’t have it in you to care at the moment. 
With that, you quickly whirled on your heel, in a distressed flurry past the Angel-shaped blur who had been watching the entire encounter, and out of the clubhouse door into the cooler late-night air. 
Getting heavy to breathe in this room together. It’s so awkward, we can’t seem to do it better. Can’t we just fake a smile and put our shit to the side? 
---
Angel had waited a whopping 18 hours to text you after your clandestine tattooed meet-cute. 
You were in the middle of exchanging consultation e-mails with a prospective client when your phone had buzzed. 
“Vince?” The text read. 
You bit back a smirk before responding,
“Vince? No Vince here. This is Frida’s phone.”
You watched as the little bubbles appeared in the corner, disappeared for a second, and then reappeared. You were grateful for the little manifestation of Angel’s hesitance. It made him seem more human. And it made you appreciative that he was clearly trying to choose his words with you, when words had seemed to come so easily to him when you had met. 
“My bad. Oh, beautiful, talented Frida.” 
You couldn’t hold back the smile on your features now. Grateful it was still you and only you in the shop so that no one could see your “obviously-texting-a-cute-guy” face. 
“It’s nice to hear from you, Angel. Good thing you didn’t throw away the card.” 
“That card was clearly a gift, querida. Much like the pretty flowers on my arm.” He snapped you a picture of his tattoo, the healing process underway. 
“Looks great!” You sent, cringing at your lack of ability to effectively flirt via text. It was something that your friends had teased you relentlessly about back in the Town -- your notorious lack of game. No! New home, new you! Be cute. Be cute. 
“So, if I’ve given you all the gifts, what do I get?” You sent with a “thinking” emoji. 
Angel at least had the decency to wait a minute or two before replying, either thinking about his response or keeping you in suspense… you weren’t sure. But you were grateful for the little opportunity to catch your breath. How did he make you so speechless when he wasn’t even in the room with you? Some things just weren’t fair. 
“Niña, I paid you for this ink. What more could you possibly want from me?” 
Tricky Angel. Zorro. Like a little fox, he had effectively maneuvered the conversation back to you -- the ball was in your court. Would you tell him what you wanted?
You chewed the end of your fingernail thoughtfully before responding. 
“You texted me, boy. Are you sure it isn’t you who wants something?”
If only your friends could see you now. That was damn smooth. 
“Boy?” 
You snorted to yourself. Trust a guy like Angel to get hung up on something small like that. The bubbles reappeared. 
“I was thinking about this pretty girl I met the other day. Hell of an artist. But a shit poet. Thought I would see if she was free sometime?” 
Angel was merciful. You could kiss him. Had he seriously just taken all the weight out of this conversation? Your heart felt a million pounds lighter in your chest, knowing he was asking you. The wave of relief that he wanted to see you again crashed through you, replaced in the tide with the backdraft of a feeling of mischievousness. You wouldn’t let him off so easily.
So you waited before responding. Let him sweat a little, right?
Only… you weren’t sure Angel was sweating as much as you were, fingers itching with the desire to text him back and accept immediately. 
When what had felt like an eternity (but in reality had only been about seven minutes) had passed, you picked up your phone, opening the conversation with Angel. 
“She’s free next Thursday … After your bike week, el rey de los bandoleros.” 
You put your phone back down on the counter, grinning like an idiot, feeling like you had just swallowed a bunch of bubbles. You entertained the notion that if your combat boots weren’t keeping your feet weighted to the floor, you would have floated away. 
Your phone dinged once more.
“See you then, mi reina.” 
Time passes slowly the more you want it to go quickly. And whenever you have a deadline you’re dreading, it gallops ahead. Time really is that bitch, and she does not give a fuck about your feelings. 
The following Thursday felt like it took a year to arrive. But it found you closing up the shop, your stomach fluttering with butterflies and pop rocks, adorned in your favorite pair of jeans and boots, a clean, flattering tank top that showed off your own ink. You hoped it was fine for whatever Angel had in mind. 
Honestly, he hadn’t said anything about your date. A few flirtatious texts here and there? Obviously. You sent him photos of the pieces you had done for new clients. He sent you ridiculous selfies and a couple of group pics of him and his friends at the biker event. One guy who kept popping up in the photos, Angel had told you, was his “little” brother. But there was nothing “little” about that dude. 
You loved seeing all of Angel’s goofy, smiling faces. Treasuring the photos in your small moments of quiet downtime. 
The rumbling of a bike engine greeted your ears, like the seductive purr of a large cat. You glanced up, a full Cheshire grin alighting your features at the sight of Angel’s gorgeous, deep forest green bike, and the man of the hour looking very at home on the seat. 
He rolled to a stop in front of you, unclipping his helmet and dismounting with his winning trademark smirk, ambling over to greet you. 
“Frida,” he scooped you into a hug, his tall frame causing you to lift, your toes now barely brushing the ground as he brought you to his height. He pressed a soft kiss to your check, setting you down gently and letting you get your bearings, chuckling pleasantly at the obvious, dizzying effect his greeting had had on you.
“Angelito,” you returned. “Back in one piece?”
“Hail to the king, baby,” he countered. 
“Yeah, yeah,” you teased, scuffing the toe of your boot into the gravel of the lot. “So, where are you taking me, o benevolent one?”
“Just gonna hafta find out.” He handed his helmet to you, helping you clip and tighten it beneath your chin. “Ever ridden before?”
“Uhm, well, sure” you replied too assuredly, quickly realizing your slip. “I mean, no. Not like that. I mean, yes, like that. But not on one of these.” Fuck. Could you be more embarrassing? 
Angel released a full-bellied laugh at your response, his head tossing back a little. 
“You’ll have to tell me more about alla that later, cielo.” You put your head in your palm willing the embarrassment to go away. Angel quickly pried your hands away, cupping your cheeks with his own warm hands, long fingers brushing your cheekbones reverently. “In the meantime, just hang on, okay?” 
You nodded, still cursing your idiot-brain that had partnered with the dirtiest corners of your mind to take over your mouth. Shut the fuck up, dumb-dumb. 
You clung to Angel as he drove, your hands roaming his firm torso probably a little too-familiarly. You enjoyed the way the wind whipped around you, tugging at yours and Angel’s clothes as you made your way up the canyon overlooking the desert that was Santo Padre. 
Angel parked his bike on the ridge overlooking the town, the sun beginning its descent in the desert sky in swirling hues of pastels and cotton candy pink-purple-blue overtaking the orange hue. 
You had never been up here before, and you told Angel as much. He looked pleased at that, pleased that he was the one to show you the best view of the Santo Padre sunset. 
Angel busied himself unpacking the bags on the side of his bike while you enjoyed the scenery. Pulling out a couple of wrapped sandwiches and bottles of water, he handed yours to you, coming to stand next to you on the ridge. 
"Thanks," you acknowledged, looking at the offerings. "What, no beer?"
Angel chuckled a little at that.
"I ain't tryna liquor you up, niña. Besides, you want warm beer that's been rattling around on my bike all afternoon?"
You crinkled your nose a little at that. "No," you decided. "Never mind. Besides, I'm more of a whiskey girl."
Angel glanced at you, sipping on his own water idly.
"Really?"
"Really," you confirmed. "Don't tell me you're one of those guys who thinks it's impressive when a girl drinks whiskey because it's such a 'man thing.' "
Angel held up one hand, defensively. 
"Nunca. Just took you for more of a… dunno? Maybe a rum kinda girl?"
"Don't think so. For now, though? Water and sandwiches do me just fine. Whiskey can come later." You took a bite of the now-unwrapped sandwich. "This is good," you confirmed around a slightly-full mouth. "Did you make this?"
"Of course. Pop owns the butcher shop down the street from your parlour. Sliced the meat myself, an' all," he said, a little proudly now that he knew you approved of his sandwich-making skills.
"Bueno," you giggled. "Thank you for this, Angel. Really. This is one of the nicest nights I've had since moving here." You shuffled a little closer to where he was standing, looking in his eyes as you thanked him.
"Bah," he waved away your compliments, "it ain't alla that. This can't be the most exciting thing you've done since getting here."
"Maybe it is," you pressed. "I dunno. Maybe I'm too boring for the king of the bikers?"
"I doubt that very seriously, querida," he turned his body so he was facing you now, sandwich long gone, fiddling with the water bottle in his hands. "You play your cards right, I'll introduce you to the rest of the club. Then things'll get really exciting."
You blinked. One date and he already was thinking about introducing you to his friends? Your inner shy romantic (okay, not so "inner," right? You're pretty clear about who you are) was doing little somersaults in your chest. 
You must've been silent a beat too long because Angel was quick to supplement, "Only if you want."
"I'd like that," you confirmed, nodding and smiling gently. 
"So, are you gonna tell me what brings an East Bay girl here?" 
You raised a brow. You didn't remember telling him where you moved from. He rubbed his hand along the back of his neck nervously, realizing you'd caught his slip. 
"I maaaay have scrolled your Instagram?"
You finished your sandwich, thinking about how much you wanted to tell him.
"Just time for a change of scenery. Olí is an old friend, and he offered me a job. I think he wants to travel more." You shrugged, "It just felt like it was time. Plus, I dunno… I like it here. Much quieter."
Angel nodded at that, not having the heart to tell you that his club was not at all quiet and was the source of the disruption in the otherwise-quaint town. 
You kept talking, telling him about the friends you'd left behind, your old shop, weekends spent in the park surrounding Lake Merritt, and going to Raiders games. Angel took in your features as you spoke, the golden light of the sunset making you glow like something out of a dream he'd had once. Your eyes sparkled as you talked about things you loved, the books and art that inspired your poetry. How you'd gone to art school. You were something.
"-- Sorry, I'm rambling," you breathed in a rush, flush with the amount of talking you'd been doing in a record amount of time. "What? Do I have something in my teeth?"
Angel realized he'd been staring as long as you'd been talking.
"No, querida. Nothing in your teeth." He gave you a dazzlingly white smile.
"Oh thank God," you returned his smile with a small one of your own, shying a little under his gaze, and wondering how long he had been looking at you like that as you'd talked.
He leaned over you now, his height giving him the definite advantage as he'd -- not unwelcomely-- invaded your space. He brought one hand up to cup your chin, his dark eyes revealing flecks of sparkling gold in the pastel wash of the sunset as his gaze once again met yours.
You saw his quick glance down at your lips, you unconsciously giving a small nod before his warm lips met yours.
Oh.
You had obviously been kissed before, been the recipient of past romantic attention. All of that paled in comparison, melting away as Angel's full lips maneuvered over yours, both of his large, calloused hands gently brushing your cheeks as he cupped your face, sliding one hand down to rest on the side of your neck.
You sighed lightly, one of your own hands twined into his shirt, the other resting on the side of his firm torso. 
Angel took the opportunity to slide his tongue past your lips, your own brushing against his as the kiss deepened.
 You were in no hurry for the kiss to end, enjoying the way everything about Angel was so warm, something that was surprisingly welcome, despite the ever-present desert heat of Santo Padre. You could get used to this. 
You had only known Angel a short time, realistically. Your one meeting spawning a series of flirtatious texts and snaps, and now this date that, while low-key, felt almost too perfect to be real. He made you feel safe, desired.
You could already feel him slipping beneath your skin to rest in a special place in your heart. And while you as a person were generally reticent to share that part of yourself with anyone, you had a feeling Angel could take up permanent residence there. If he wanted. 
You dropped from your tip-toes, effectively breaking the kiss.
Angel blinked, looking down at you and noting the pleasant glow on your skin, lips now slightly swollen from his kiss. He could get used to this.
The rest of the evening passed in a pleasant blur, trading quips and stories as the sun went down. Angel told you about his club, his brothers. About his pop and Ezekiel, and how at one time, he enjoyed being the bigger brother, teasing, pranking and lording over EZ until EZ had hit his growth spurt and could (and would) definitely hit back. 
As he drove you home, you snuggled a little bit against him, pressing yourself into his back and enjoying the way you swore you could feel his heart pounding through the kutte and over the rumble of the bike and the road.
He'd dropped you off with a parting kiss and the promise of another date.
Another date turned into several. Time you weren't at the shop was now spent with Angel, showing him what you were working on, inviting him over for dinners and to watch mindless television while he told you what he could about his day. 
The both of you were slowly peeling back the layers around your respectively guarded hearts, revealing more of yourselves only to be met with pure acceptance by the other. Even blindados had to take off their armour at some point. 
You cherished your time with Angel, and he quickly found himself stumbling, head over his own biker-booted heels for you.
After a few months had passed, he had brought you to meet the club. You had manifested nothing but general acceptance of his lifestyle and were eager to meet the people Angel had so obviously cared for. Who had helped shape him into the brash but conscientious person he was with you. 
And one sunny afternoon had found you bringing lunch you had made for the entire club over to the scrapyard, Angel agreeing with your plan. You never were one to show up empty-handed. 
As you walked across the yard, past the gate, and into the clubhouse, your eyes adjusting to the dim interior from the blinding sun outdoors, Angel bounded over to greet you. Taking the bag full of homemade goodies from your arms, he pressed quick kisses to your cheeks, and one to your forehead. 
He turned, met with the pleasantly-surprised stares of his brothers. He announced your name to the room before turning to you, pointing at each man and supplying a name. You nodded, smiling and offering a warm wave to each. 
The man you knew to be EZ from all of Angel's initial texts and photos quickly strode over to you, shaking your hand in his impressively firm grip before bending down to press a quick kiss to your cheek with a,
"Bienvenido, hermanita. Angel's told me a lot about you. Won't shut up, really," giving you a sly wink as Angel swatted EZ's arm in annoyance at his brother's revelation.
Boys.
The smaller man with the sharp eyes and full curls you knew to be Coco made his way over to where you were now seated as Angel went to get you both drinks, the other men digging into your offerings as you made yourself comfortable.
He sat next to you, tossing you a, "You mind?" Lighting his cigarette after you’d shaken your head.
He studied you through his own plumes of smoke before leaning across the table and speaking to you, lowly and with an almost conspiratorial rasp to his voice,
"You did that cover-up for Angel?" He asked on a smooth exhale.
"Mhmm," you nodded. "He gave me free reign. I was nervous he'd hate it."
Coco seemed to chew over your words for a dragging moment. You shifted in your seat. He was definitely sizing you up.
"Bold move, pequeña, giving the secretario of a biker club a sleeve of flowers." 
"I suppose it was," you sighed, more than a little uncertain now. "But it felt meaningful, right, I guess. I just sort of… started drawing. I… think it worked out, though?" You trailed off.
Coco nodded. "It's a fuckin' good piece, mami. Angel told me what you'd said about memories making you who you are." He snorted lightly through his nose. "It's funny. We've never even met before, and you're already sounding like me." 
A small smile played across his lips, returning it with one of your own.
"I'm glad you approve," you nodded. "Angel's opinion obviously matters, and don't tell him I told you this, but it means alot coming from one of his family." 
And that's what they were. His family. You could see it. The obvious camaraderie and care underlying each of their actions with the other. You admired the system of support, cushioned by good humor, despite being flung regularly into harsh reality. It was clear -- they were there for one another.
Coco's voice broke your train of thought,
"Maybe you got space for me in your books one-a these days?"
Your small smile was a full-blown, sunny grin now.
"Of course. Anytime you want to drop by, you're more than welcome." 
"Gracias, chica." Coco leaned across the table and patted your shoulder before getting up and taking his leave.
And so it went. The boys would filter through your shop. Olí teasing you about his offense that all of his most lucrative, inked clients were now going to you. 
You enjoyed the time working on pieces for them afforded you -- offering you a glimpse into their inner workings, what they felt was important enough to take up permanent residence along their skin. Making idle chit-chat with you while you worked. And always, always sharing embarrassing little anecdotes about Angel. 
The months passed with you and Angel, finding comfort in your unpredictable, but welcome, respective routines. 
One night in particular found Angel wrapped up in your embrace, the physical embodiment of your gradual and growing trust in one another.
He had arrived home more than a little rattled, his eyes wildly darting to the corners of the room before settling in you, exhaling a shaky breath before striding the length of the room and crushing you to him, pressing a bruising kiss to your lips. 
You understood he probably couldn't tell you what had happened, but you asked anyway, needing him to know you would hear him.
"Angelito, everything okay?" 
He shook his head softly in the negative, but didn't elaborate. 
You pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. 
"Okay. We don't have to talk about it," you wound your arms up and around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer to you. "But it's going to be okay. I've got you. I won't let go."
He gripped your wrists, pulling your hands from his neck and sliding your arms down, bringing them to rest around his waist. Once he had positioned you where he wanted, he brought his hands to cup your cheeks, eyes heavy and dark with the weight of his stormy thoughts. 
He nodded at what you had said before bringing his lips back to yours. 
You brought one hand up to meet his, where it rested along your cheek. You twined your fingers through, joining your hands while breaking the kiss. You lead him through the apartment, bringing him to the bedroom. You had music softly playing from your speaker in the corner, candles lit to bathe the room in ambient glow and a warm, honey smell, all in anticipation of Angel's eventual arrival home.
You silently gestured for him to sit on the edge of the bed, where you took your seat next to him. 
You tugged the leather kutte from his shoulders, folding it reverently and placing it on the chair near the bed. He exhaled in relief, shoulders sagging once the leather manifestation of his obligation to a darker world had been removed. The weight of the world a little less on the mantle of his shoulders. 
You turned your attention to his feet next, unlacing and tugging off his boots. Then, his belt. 
Once he was just in his jeans and his t-shirt, you resumed your seat at his side, bringing him back into your embrace and carding your hands through his hair, as his head rested on your shoulder. 
Angel spoke, voice cracking as he broke the seal of silence in the room. 
"It was… it was awful, Frida." He sighed. "I do everything they ask. It's my job … Fuck. Sometimes I wonder how much more my heart can take. But then, I get to come home to you." 
His breath was shuddering now.
And while you didn't always know what to say -- it was a rare sight to see Angel so rattled. But you were a caregiver by nature, ready to give him the pieces of yourself that would make him feel whole.
You guided him down so that he could recline, you came to rest at his side, winding your arms around his torso, your face turned into his neck, cuddling him as he came down from the mania of his emotional high.
The moments passed, Angel's breathing leveling again as you stroked his hair in time to the soft music.
He turned his head to look at you, admiring the flutter of your lashes as you blinked at him, your gaze warm and adoring, full of twinkling fairy light and starshine. 
"Te amo, querida," Angel breathed. This was not the first time he had said it to you during your months together. But each time felt as momentous as the first, each declaration of love felt like the slip of something sweet, and you were determined to store it in your heart and mind forever.
"I love you too, Angel. More than anything," you murmured. "I love your smile, your sense of humor, your strength." You pressed kisses to his face and neck with each admission. "Mostly, I love your strength. And that you trust me enough to tell me when you don't always feel it."
He sucked in a shuddering breath before whispering to you,
"I love your mind. How creative you are. How you see everything so beautiful, just like you," he hmm’d. "Mostly I love your trust. And that you choose to give it to me." 
You kissed him again, leaning over him with your entire body, pressing your palms gently into his shoulders. 
As your kiss deepened, you each began to tug at the other. His hands carded through your hair, tugging gently, but firmly. You lifted his shirt from his torso, the kiss breaking so you could peel it away.
You divested one another of each layer, baring yourselves to the other, body and soul. Again, this wasn't the first time you had done this. But this felt momentous nonetheless. 
Angel skimmed his hands over your form, running his hands softly down and over your breasts, loving your soft sigh at his touch. 
You leaned over him once more, reluctantly removing his hands from you, and placing them gently down at his sides. 
"Your heart is mine, mine to protect," You hummed softly, invading his senses and placing kisses down Angel's neck and to his chest, trailing your lips lovingly over Angel's heart, and pressing one last deliberate kiss there. "And I take my job very seriously." 
As you kissed him, you lightly trailed your fingers down his torso, coming to rest at his hip.
Your declaration was met with silence; you glanced up at Angel through your lashes only to find him already looking down through heavy-lidded eyes at you, his now swirling with some unnamed, weighted emotion.
You trailed your hand across his hip, not breaking eye contact as you took his hardening length into your hand. He inhaled sharply at the sensation of your grip, but refused to look away as you began to pump him slowly, still pressing kisses to his hips, torso and thighs. 
"Please, querida," Angel gasped.
"Please, what?" You murmured back, your voice taking a throaty register you reserved strictly for private moments with your beloved.
"Please… use your pretty mouth?" 
You nodded. 
"Relájate, baby, I've got you," you assured. Sweeping your hair back, the action washing Angel with the sweeping comfort of your scent as you made your way lower down his body. 
Angel slumped back against the bedspread, glittering galaxy eyes still trained on you as you lavished him with attention. 
You took the opportunity to flatten your tongue, licking a broad stripe up the length of him, one hand braced against his firm thigh, the other holding him gently at the base of his cock as you worked.
You swirled your tongue around the tip of him, delighted at his throaty moans, feeling the effect they had on you, making you feel like you were burning from the inside, feeling the slickness from your own center as your thighs rubbed together. 
Taking Angel wholly into your mouth now, you bobbed over him, relishing in the heavy feel of him in your mouth and the throaty groans you received from Angel in response. 
Before you could spend too long lavishing him with attention, Angel tugged on your hair at the base of your neck. Following his grip, you lifted your head and released him from, watching (a little greedily) as his thick length bobbed against him when you relinquished him from the confines of your mouth. 
He guided you up his body, hand still knotted in your hair, pushing his mouth onto yours, uncaring of the saliva on your lips and chin, and the taste of himself on your tongue. 
You straddled his hips, surging the rest of the way up his body and effectively deepening the kiss. The hand that was once in your hair now made its way to loosely grip at your throat, the other skimming his way down your breasts, across your ribs and toward your center.
As his fingers traced through your folds, you involuntarily rolled your hips into his hand, alight at his touch, and desperately seeking more. 
Angel touching you was like the shock of a live wire. Every time felt just as electric as the last, goosebumps erupting across your flesh as his fingers traced across your skin. 
He chuckled through your fused mouths, drawing back at your reaction and the wetness he found between your legs.
"Eager, amor?" Every word fell that fell from his lips sounded like a dangerous purr.
You nodded, drunk on the way Angel's hand gently squeezed your throat, while the other was teasingly making its way to-and-fro across your wet folds, occasionally making his way up to lightly circle and press his thumb over your clit, making your eyelids flutter. Your hips continued to rock against his hand, silently begging for more, his teasing touch making you more than a little crazy.
"Yeah?" Angel asked, his voice thick and syrupy, the timbre like dark clouds. "That shit turn you on? Sucking my cock?"
His words combined with his touch made another rush of heat flood through you. You were certain you would pass out, that your knees would buckle. And you were doing so well, holding your place up and over his hips while he played with you.
The hand on your throat gripped a little tighter, causing your eyes to flutter shut.
"Nuh-uh, baby," he shook you lightly, all mirth gone from his eyes, no more pleasant, smiling crinkles at the corners. His full lips pressed firmly together. "I asked you a question. You answer that shit"
He pressed two fingers teasingly against your entrance, refusing to insert them, despite the little roll of your hips.
"Y-yeaahh," you sighed, head tossed back, "I-I fucking love it -- love you, Angel."
He rewarded you by sliding a long finger into you, allowing you to ride his hand. The hand still around your throat guiding you forward, over him, allowing him to press hot, open-mouthed kisses, first to your lips, dirty and raw, like an exposed nerve in his unabashed want for you. 
He relinquished his hold on your neck, allowing him to trail his lips and his tongue there, kissing you softly behind your ear, down and around your neck to your collarbones, all while his fingers continued their earnest treatment inside of you, his thumb now pressing to your clit, your warming crescendo building.
Using his height and the fact that you were straddling him, Angel encouraged you to lean forward, allowing him to capture one of your breasts in his grip, his mouth following. His warm tongue swirled around your nipple before he sucked the bud into his mouth, grazing his teeth ever so gently over your sensitive flesh.
Angel's attention was rewarded with your gasping sighs and breathy moans. How anyone could make you feel this good was beyond you. Angel had an uncanny ability to elicit responses and feelings like no other person before him.
You felt the thrumming hum and warm, sticky wave of your orgasm building as Angel worked his fingers inside of you, stroking that particular spot from within that he knew would be your undoing.
"O-oh," you whined, keening noises caught in your throat. "Please, baby, I n-need you. Need you inside." 
The room was sweltering. Or was it just you? Angel withdrew his fingers smoothly, not sparing you the chance to be disappointed at the loss of feeling as he smoothly flipped the two of you, guiding you down to the mattress and hovering over your trembling form. 
"Yeah?" Angel asked. "You ready for that, querida?"
You gazed up at him through your lashes, longingly. He would give everything, anything, that he had in the world if you only looked at him like that forever, gaze full of warmth, heat, and unfiltered, starry adoration. 
"Mmm," you nodded, "Please? Angel?"
He was only a man, after all. Who was he to refuse when you asked so prettily for him?
He gently turned you over so that your back was to him, running his hands down the slope of your back and guiding you to your knees, propping your hips up.
Positioning himself behind you, Angel resumed his grip on your throat, using it to guide your head around so that he could kiss you again while he guided himself inside of you. You moaned into the kiss at the sensation, never tired of feeling every ridge of his thick cock sliding into you like he belonged there.
Angel groaned, breaking the kiss and shaking his head, chuckling darkly, his eyes flashing as he swore, 
"Never fuckin' get tired of that shit," he began to move his hips, using his other hand that was gripping your hip to guide you along his lengthy, meeting his thrusts. "Never tired of your pussy … You're so … good."
Angel's words coupled with his thrusts were driving you crazy, causing you to eagerly meet him with the momentum of your own hips, the heat in the room spliced with the distinctive noise of his skin meeting yours. 
Angel, leaning over your back, crowded your every sense, the taste of him, of his kisses still lingering on your tongue. Your ears met with the harmony of your two bodies and the filthy words and sounds coming from Angel's mouth. The sight of him was as intoxicating as ever, as you looked over your shoulder at him, the shadows of the room playing across his tawny skin, glimmering in the low light with the sheen of sweat you knew was also present on yours.
“Say my name,” Angel pants into the slick skin on your back, kissing a line down your spine, his body covering yours possessively.
You were too caught up in everything Angel, failing to respond quickly enough for his liking as you gasped at every thrust.
A crack of heat flashed across your ass, Angel swatting you there once. You should be annoyed, but you couldn't lie -- you fucking loved it when he was like this. Only for you. 
"A-angel," you sighed, the crescendo of your orgasm climbing, threatening to burst any second, you tightening around Angel.
"Bueno," he purred. "You close? Yeah, you fucking are," Angel snarled, taking in the way you threw your hips back desperately to meet him, squirming one hand beneath you to touch yourself. "You can have it, baby, I'll make it good. You just gotta ask pretty for me." 
You deepened the arch in your back, flexing your hips back toward Angel, and gripping the bedspread before you in your fingers, face pressed flush with the sheets, your other hand still pressed to your clit.
Angel tilted your head, leaning over further and gripping your jaw, squeezing to pucker your cheeks. He kissed you, sucking your lower lip between his. He kissed you gently, a deceptive contrast to the hand gripping your face, his hips snapping into yours at a now-brutish pace. He pecked another light kiss to your lips, followed by another, gently biting your lip and dragging it lightly as he drew his face from yours.
He released your lips as you whispered another plea into his mouth.
"Come on then, baby." 
Your orgasm washed over you, pinpricks of striking matches splintering across your skin, followed by a euphoric wave of white-heat, blissfully soothing every nerve it had just lit.
Angel followed, emptying himself into you with a few final thrusts, groaning at the way you tightened just so around him. 
He withdrew gently, collapsing next to you as you both caught your breath. 
Your lashes fanned your cheeks as you blinked hazily at the form of your love through the soft glow of the room.
"I do love you, Angel," you told him, leaning across the sheets to rub your nose back and forth against his, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth, grazing your soft fingers against the lines of his forehead, easing them away into an expression of soft serenity. "Always."
---
Now, you walked out of the clubhouse, around to the side of the porch, a quiet corner away from the noise. Willing yourself to calm down as small, hot tears trickled their way, uninvited, down your cheeks. 
Your thoughts were moving a million miles a second, the battle of luck you were waging with the universe saw you quickly losing. 
The year you spent with Angel replaying itself in your mind. Every word, every touch, that goddamn tattoo. Remembrance, my ass. How you would hold him when he came home too high-strung and strung-out emotionally for words. How you would save the best leftovers for him when you knew he had been away and would be craving the Chinese food from the place down the block when he got back. How he felt inside of you on the coldest nights and in the most tender mornings. How he would whisper enchanting endearments into the shell of your ear as he rolled his hips into yours, your mind and body completely his. How you would wear his shirts and overly-large socks around his apartment, leaving doodles and scribbled poems on sticky notes for him to find in his moments alone. How he kissed you warmly, his tongue sweeping into your mouth like syrupy possession that you never wanted to end. 
How it did end. How he had thrown out your world, crumpled it into a crushed paper ball and tossing it away with the carelessness of a child. Ending things with seemingly no spare thought for your feelings. How EZ had let slip when he saw you in town that Angel was expecting a kid, the timing of everything suddenly making a little more sense. How it made you feel, now that you knew you were wholly his, but he was never entirely yours. How you had kept to yourself in the months that followed, the cracks in your heart widening until you felt like you would drown in them. 
The pulse of your feelings for him, always strong; they warm you. But it was still you they all left behind. 
Your thoughts were still swirling when, off to the side, you heard the porch door open and close again, and you prayed that whomever was coming outside was going to have a smoke out front, or that they were on their way out. That they wouldn’t find you. 
But of course, these things never worked out how you wanted them. You cursed any god you could think of for just how un-fucking-lucky you were sometimes. 
Because, really, who other than Angel was making his way around the porch to you? Taking in your hunched form as you leaned over the railing, looking anywhere but at him. 
Of fucking course.
You kept your eyes down, focused in your clasped hands as you leaned over the railing, refusing to look at him. 
And now? Now he was looking at you, and it's the one time you wished he wouldn't. 
One thing you wouldn't do, now that he was here, was break the silence first. He didn't want to hear what you'd had to say, so why would you grace him with your thoughts now? Petty? Sure. But you weren't the one in there with your hands on some ass while a so-called friend harassed your ex. 
A few uncomfortable beats dragged on before Angel broke the silence, shattering it like glass with a verbal hammer.
"What'd he say to you?"
You remained silent.
"What the fuck did he say, Frida?" His voice angry now, demanding. The same tone he used to break your heart. 
"It ain't working. Not my fuckin’ fault you can't see it."
You rolled your eyes, another shard of icy glass painfully wedging into your heart at his use of the name. Still refusing to look in his direction when you replied, softly but sharply, 
"You know exactly what he said. What I'm trying to figure out is why, exactly, you care."
"I care, Frida," was all he offered.
You snorted in response. Undignified, sure. But couldn't he see this was killing you? Where was his mercy?
"I do," he insisted, the thud of his boots across the wood of the porch indicating that he was crossing to you, coming to stand a ways behind you.
"I'm not going to do this with you. He said some shit. It's over. We move on. What more could you have to say about that?"  
Keep it simple, keep yourself safe. You gave him nothing to say back. And then… 
"And if I told you I wanted you? I wanted you back?"
You whipped your head around to -- finally -- meet Angel's eyes, which you did for a fleeting moment before zeroing in once more on your shoes, staring resolutely at the ground. You were not going to let him see you cry again, godfuckingdamnit.
The fleeting glimpse of his face, of his eyes meeting yours once more after all this time, was enough. He looked more tired up close than he had before. Still unfair in his striking beauty, his midnight eyes still enough to pull you in, drown you in their oceanic depths. You hated it. Hated that he still had that power over you. But try as you might, you couldn't hate him. 
Your silence was killing Angel with the precision of a thousand miniscule cuts. Each deeper than the last. Until he couldn’t take it any longer. He reached through the space between, for where your hand rested on the railing. You saw the gesture coming, and whipped your hand away at the last moment, cradling it to your chest like he had burned you. You faced him fully now.
You chuckled softly, wryly, and devoid of any humor before you muttered, "You don't want me, baby. Please don't lie."
“And how do you know that’s a lie?” Angel mumbled thickly, working his tongue around the words, through his own emotion. 
You scuffed your toe into the hewn wood of the deck, shrugging before you responded, simply, 
“If I was what you wanted, you wouldn’t have gone looking elsewhere. And you certainly wouldn't have found someone else. You wouldn’t have said what you said, ended it like you did, with everything on just your terms.” You sighed deeply, with the rattle of tears lodged into your chest before you spoke again, “You made up your mind and never even let me say a word. If you wanted anything to do with me, you could have at least given me a word.” 
Angel blinked, hard. The familiar pressure of real tears building behind his eyes. You were right of course. And fuck, weren't you always? You'd always told him like it was, harsh truths that only you could cushion in your gentle, empathetic way. 
"Please, querida, just let me explain what happened--" 
You held up your hand, shaking your head firmly, effectively silencing Angel.
"No!" Much softer now, "No. I- I'm sorry, Angel, I don't mean to be rude. But, no." Your voice small, but clear, as you'd finally gotten your opportunity to say something back to him. "I, uh, I don't want to hear any explanation, and you really don't have to?"
You lilted the last part like it was a question, but continued on. 
"You, um, you've had a lot of time to tell me something, anything, about what the fuck happened. And you didn't. You left me with nothing. Just confusion and hurt, and I've made peace with that. It's taken a while, but … I just… I don't need that from you. I gave you space, always respected your decisions and opinions, and now you won't do the same. You're still trying to take from me. Offering me an explanation now?" You scoffed. "That isn't for me, and don't fuckin’ act like it is -- it's for you. And I understand that, that's fine. I'm not angry at you for that, but I'm also not going to humor it." 
You exhaled shakily, you couldn't believe you'd said all of that, that you had made it through.
Angel was speechless. It made your heart feel even sicker -- all of this silence from him for so long, and he'd offered to explain himself and you'd (gracefully) told him to fuck off. Why had you done that??
It was about time you'd stood up for yourself, that's why. 
An explanation would be nice, sure. But where Angel's words, whispered affirmations and heady declarations of love, had once made your soul swell and sing… now, you knew, anything he'd had to say to you would only serve to do the opposite. 
And your heart, perpetually bruised by nature of you being a hopeless romantic, just couldn't take it. 
You hopped off the porch, spinning around to face Angel, finding his eyes on you still. Hadn't you wished for him to look at you? To really see you once more? 
"I'm out," you tossed a thumb over your shoulder toward where you'd parked your car. "Sorry, I don't mean to abandon the old post, but uh, I'm sure you guys have someone to fill in. I'll text Aneesa to grab my stuff, don't worry about it." 
Like he would, you thought.
You were mostly rambling to yourself, and not really to Angel, as you backed away, fleeing to your car. 
Angel watched you go, the resonant ache in his chest that had been ever-present since tossing your stuff out, amplified when Luisa had left him, and now sure to be permanent, buried in cement beneath the weight of his every decision, and every word.
You looked good, he thought. Your hair was longer than when he'd seen you last. Your little skirt flouncing as you strode away. Your skin still glowed, full lips still twisted into that wry smile of yours that he had seen from across the room. All of that was true, but your eyes were also tired, and your smile never quite reached them. 
The thought that he was responsible for dimming that sparkle made him feel sicker than he already had. The way you had brushed off Andres, despite his obnoxious insistence, and the things the cocky  new patch had said to you -- may as well add those to the ever-growing pile of things stained and tainted by Angel's guilt.
And he was left alone with that guilt as you left the lot. He turned back to the party. His cool facade slipping back into place. Not ready to face the wrath of EZ and Coco, surely waiting inside to proverbially beat his ass.
What would you say if I come over? And we stand face to face now that we're older?
---
Angel shuffled into his apartment, the late hour catching up to his weary form as he ambled over to his bedside, flicking on the lamp. 
Rubbing a large hand down his face, he sat on his bed in a huff of exhaustion. Your first encounter in months since he'd all-but tossed you from this very room was pricking him with a kind of nauseating nervous  energy. But all he wanted to feel in that moment was you, whether he deserved it or not.
He'd still had it, didn't he? Where was it?
He pulled open the drawer of his nightstand, fishing through its contents for what he hoped was still in there.
His fingers curled over his prize -- a slip of paper adorned with your handwriting. Scrawled lines of poetry on a neon pink Post-It note, curled with age and disuse, something you had left for him while he slept in one morning. 
“I was thinking of you,” you had said when he had asked you about it later, shrugging as if it were the most matter-of-fact thing in the world. 
Your love for him was clean in its simplicity and forwardness, whenever he could wade his way through the mire of your shy demeanor. You had stuck the Post-It to his nightstand while he was sleeping and you made your way to work. Your words were cramped and crunched into the small paper square, but ready to greet him with the shining light of a sunny new day. 
“I see your ardor through a pearlescent lense, and all is pleasantly pink and blurry with you-- Resplendent in your love's solar hope. You are so warm beneath the brush of my fingertips, and I burn. So in love with you, as I am and as I do."
Now, his eyes scanned the words for the millionth time since you had written them. He had committed it to memory by now, wishing he could hold you instead of this crumpled piece of paper, mocking him with its annoyingly bright pink hue.
But how could he? Angel was the kind of man who simmered in his emotion -- burning slowly, lowly, only to reach a pitch. He kept to himself until he couldn’t any longer -- and then it was all bleeding hearts on a very crisp sleeve. 
He had done what he had thought was right. Cutting you out with all of the brutality and finesse of a battleaxe, to focus on Luisa and his unborn son. He thought she was what he wanted. But now, he didn’t even have them. He had nothing to show for his decisions but the lonely, sick feeling ever-present in his chest. 
The you at the beginning of your relationship would have kissed each bruise in his soul, one by one, until they were better. Would have gifted him with the warmth of your time and attention until he was made whole again with the molten heat of your gracious heart. But the you now? 
Angel could never, would never, cover the tattoo on his arm, though he had thought about it. Blacking it out once and for all, so the piece of you he wore on his sleeve would finally match the  pitch, and emptiness inside. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. It was, as he’d said all that time ago, your gift to him. And he’d made you a promise that he wouldn’t. 
All he wanted was to look you in the eyes so he could remember that he loved you once.
And not that he had any reason to know it, but across town, you had made it home. Your phone shoved to the bottom of your bag, lighting up with texts from Aneesa, EZ, and Coco. But the only person on your mind was Angel. 
How much of what he had said was true? You weren't sure. But you were sure that you knew where you stood, still painfully alone and in love as ever, the cracks in your heart only fillable by the very person you had brushed off earlier.
And, while Angel readied himself for bed, snapping the lights off and attempting to cut through the oppressive darkness by staring at the ceiling with his own penetrative gaze, the empty side of the bed had never felt more cavernous, but more weighted. Mocking. 
If Angel was being honest with himself -- something he was never too keen on being in his more sobering moments -- he didn't love you once. He still loved you.
Thinking after all this time, I just wanna meet your eyes so I can remember why... Why I loved you once.
Tagging:
@themarcusmoreno @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa @steeeeeeeviebb @qveenbvtch @mxsamwilson @ifimayhaveaword @huliabitch @pettyprocrastination @phoenixhalliwell @flightlessangelwings @cinewhore @velvetmel0n @moonlight-prose @rebeccasficrecs @videogamesandpoorlifechoices @aerolanya @djvrins @jenrebloggingfics @ciriswife @justanotherblonde23 @superhoeva @witching-hour​ @luckyharley1903​
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sleepysnk · 3 years
Text
i made this because honestly i could not get enough of dilf jean 😩❤ i hope you guys enjoy! ♡
Perfect Fit
Pairings: Dilf!Sugar Daddy!Jean Kirstein x Fem!Reader
Warnings: NSFW
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A giggle escaped (Y/N)'s lips as she watched Jean take another one of her shopping bags, he was already holding four or five of them around his forearms. 
"You sure you can hold all of that?" she asked, a smile on her features. 
Jean chuckled, "Of course, anything for you princess." 
Her cheeks grew warm from the nickname he had given her, Jean always treated her like a princess anyway; he got her anything she wanted. She was his sugar baby after all. According to Jean, she always deserved the best and the most amazing treatment.
"Where to now?" he asked, shoving his wallet into his pocket. 
She started to make her way down the street with him by her side, she wasn't exactly sure where she wanted to go. The two had been to almost every fancy store downtown and it was almost like she couldn't decide, almost like a little kid who got a million different candy choices. This time she got to pick the candy she wanted. 
"I'm not sure," she replied, shrugging her shoulders. 
Jean put his hand near the small of her back. "We can head back soon.. it has been a long day after all," he whispered, his voice husky. 
She felt a chill go down her spine. "Sounds good to me," she smirked. 
Jean caught the hint of amusement in her eyes, it was such a turn on for him. He loved the way she could look at him and make him harder than a rock, it was almost like her secret talent. 
He looked around the streets for other shops he could take her into, his eyes scanned over the different shops and clothing stores. Nothing really caught his eye, until his vision fell upon the dark maroon doors of the lingerie shop. 
His cock twitched at the idea of her in lingerie, she had always worn it for him whenever he asked, but it was always a turn on for him. He always ended up tearing it off and leaving the fabric all ripped, who could blame him? He just likes her that much. 
"(Y/N), love," he said, stopping her in her tracks. 
She turned to meet him. "What's up?" she asked, blinking. 
He nodded his head towards the lingerie shop next to them. "Let's go in here," he replied.
She eyed the shop, shock written all over her face. She was certain she had passed this shop many times before meeting Jean, and she did it for a reason, the lingerie was expensive and it didn't necessarily come cheap. 
"Okay.." she said, opening the doors, Jean following behind her. 
The smell of perfume filled their noses as they entered, it was warm, almost like a blanket was placed over the two. It was better than the fall air outside. 
Jean's eyes explored the different mannequins that had different lingerie placed on them, he could tell that it was the finest quality fabrics. It wasn't any kind of cheap thing a person could find online for $30, it was almost $190.
(Y/N) ran her fingers along the different bra and underwear sets, her mind wondering what she could try on or what color might fit her best. Jean always said she looked good in white or baby pink, he said it reminded him of an angel. 
"Jean?" she said, turning back to see him eyeing one of the body suits. 
His head turned towards her. "Yes? What's up? Did you find something you like?" he asked, nodding. 
She made her way towards him. "No, but I do want to try some things on. Should I start with this?" she said, running her fingers over the fabric. 
Jean blinked for a moment before speaking. "Yeah! Try it on, I want to see if it looks nice," he replied, holding it out for her. 
She took it from his hands and turned to make her way towards the dressing rooms, a few women stood around looking at the lingerie, others just gawked at the way Jean looked. Who could blame them though? He always looked good.
"Just one?" the worker asked, looking at (Y/N). 
She nodded, "Yes please," 
The worker led her to one of the dressing rooms near the far end, Jean trailing behind her with his phone in his hands. He was trying his best to distract the aching of his cock in his pants, but he couldn't help it, the idea of his sugar baby all dressed up for him made all the blood rush to his dick. 
"Let me know if you need any help princess," Jean said, leaning against the wall in front of the dressing room she was in. 
"I will!" she called back. 
Jean looked up from his phone and crossed his arms, he wanted to get back home as soon as possible to relieve this ache. If he didn't he just might have to fuck her in the car, but it'd be such a mess, especially with how the two of them are. 
An idea suddenly popped into his head, a dirty one too. 
He looked around the hallway he was in, the only visible people around were some of the women going into changing rooms or the one worker who seemed bored out of her mind just standing there. 
No one would catch him, right? He could always say she asked for help, plus it'd be quick.
Jean moved towards the door of the room, he could hear her shuffling around behind it. He assumed she was getting naked or somewhat nude, it'd be the perfect opportunity.
He knocked on the door. "(Y/N).. can I come in?" he asked, looking around to see if anyone was nearby. 
He felt the doorknob click, she had unlocked the door. "Mhm.." she hummed back. 
Jean opened the door and closed it as quick as he could, his eyes were filled with the sight of his sugar baby standing there with the lingerie on. 
Oh was it the sight.
It fit her perfectly, the swell of her breasts were outlined by the black material, black hearts covered her nippes, and it hugged her body. 
"Is something wrong?" she asked, blinking a bit.
Jean's mouth was slack, "N-No! You look.. so fucking sexy right now. I love it," he replied. 
She felt her cheeks growing warm, she always felt bashful around Jean; he had such a way with words that it always made butterflies form in her stomach. 
He plopped down in the small chair that was in the room, two mirrors faced each wall, giving Jean a view of both ends of her body. 
"Come here.." he said, patting the spot on his lap. 
She turned and sat down on his thigh, she felt a chill go down her spine as his hands began to explore the skin of her thighs. He played with the fabric near her cunt, which was starting to grow warm and pool with need. 
"J-Jean?" she said, her voice coming out almost like a whimper. 
His lips brushed against the skin of her neck, causing goosebumps to flare on her skin. "Do you like that..? It's very lewd of you to be turned on in a public place baby girl,"
A quiet moan escaped her mouth as his fingers found their way to her clit, her arousal pooled around it, soaking the lingerie she was wearing. 
"Jean.. please!" she cried, burying her face into the crook of his neck. 
Jean chuckled against her skin. "You gotta be quiet for me beautiful.. I don't want anyone to hear your pretty voice when I make you cum," he whispered. "Understand?"
She shook her head instantly. "Y-Yes.."
A smirk formed onto his face. "Good, now take this off. We can't ruin it now, can we?" he said, tugging at the material around her body. 
She stood for a second, peeling the lingerie off of her body. It dropped to the floor, leaving her naked and exposed in front of him. 
His cock twitched in his pants, he wanted to fuck her so badly. He knew deep down it was impossible to do it without any major noise, so he figured to do something small until they could get home and get the real show started. 
"Come sit here, this time facing the mirror," he said, moving the chair so it now sat in front of the mirror. 
She sat down on his lap, her back now pressing into his chest. She could feel his heart pounding against his ribcage, his print pressing into her butt. 
Jean used his hands to spread her legs open, her feet now on his thighs, she was wide open for him and she could see it in the mirror. 
"Fuck me.. look at that pretty pussy," he said, spreading her lips apart to see her hot core; arousal pooling from it. 
She threw her head back as she felt his fingers circling her clit, bolts of electricity went through her stomach and down her spine almost instantly. 
"Jean.." she whimpered, digging her nails into his jacket. 
He nibbled on the shell of her ear. "You're such a good girl.. staying so quiet for me.. do you want my fingers in your pussy (Y/N)?" he asked. 
She bucked her hips as she felt his fingers go closer to the entrance of her pussy. "Jean, please! Go inside me.." she cried, squeezing her eyes shut. 
A low chuckle rumbled in his throat. "As you wish, pretty girl.." he replied, shoving two digits into her hot cavern. 
A loud moan came from her mouth, Jean's fingers filled her hole instantly, she was so wet for him. He could almost cum on the spot from just fingering her, her pussy was always so nice and warm, it drew him in whenever he wanted to fuck her. 
"Look at the mirror.." he ordered, putting his arm around her waist. 
She looked towards her reflection in front of her, Jean's fingers were knuckle deep inside of her cunt, the sight was turning her on; Jean could feel her walls squeezing around him. 
"B-Baby.." she moaned, putting her hand near his wrist to draw him deeper inside. 
Jean kissed her at her neck, slightly sucking on the skin. "Look at you.. being such a good girl for daddy, take my fucking fingers," he said, quickening the pace. 
She covered her mouth to suppress any noises that threatened to escape, she felt her body growing warm, and her vision going white whenever his fingers hit that spot inside of her. 
"Yes.. oh fuck.." she whimpered, looking into the reflection. She could see Jean staring right at her, his honey eyes were blown with lust and desire. 
"You wanna cum for me? I can feel you getting close.." Jean said, curling his fingers inside her wet cunt. "You're so wet for me.."
She lifted her hips to inch him deeper, her walls were sucking him in; squelching noises came from her pussy as he thrusted his fingers into her without hesitation. Her hand went to his cheek where she turned his face to meet hers, their lips crashing onto one another. 
She gasped as finger curled towards her g-spot, he took the opportunity to explore her mouth with his tongue. The kiss was sloppy, salvia formed around her mouth making their kisses smack. 
He pulled away, his eyes going down to her puffy lips. "Fuck, you are one pretty sight. I want you to cum all over my fingers," he said, licking his lips. 
She whimpered feeling his fingers quicken against her cunt, his thumb playing with her clit to double the pleasure. It was almost becoming too much, her body was twitching and the knot in her stomach was threatening to break any moment. 
"J-Jean! I'm close.." she cried, digging her nails into his wrist. 
His eyes went to the mirror, she looked so fucking sexy like that. She was crumbling beneath him, her eyes were squeezed shut and her lips were parted with small moans coming from them. He could feel the way her walls fluttered around him, her orgasm was approaching.
He gripped at the skin of her waist, he pulled her tightly against him; his fingers thrusting into her at that same quick pace. Her moans began to fall from her mouth, she could barely form sentences at that point, the pleasure felt so good and she wanted to cum so bad. 
"Cum all over my fucking fingers baby.. you can do it," Jean cooed, nibbling on her ear. 
She let out a cry of pleasure as her orgasm took over her body, her walls tightening around his fingers; arousal coating them. Her thighs twitched and her breath became uneven from the effects.
"Good girl.."
She smiled to herself from the praise, she could barely stand from all of it. Her body was warm, a layer of sweat was glistening on her skin. 
"Suck," he said, holding his fingers near her lips. 
She opened her mouth letting his fingers slide in, her slick coating her tongue; the taste filling her mouth. 
Jean removed his fingers from her mouth, a trail of saliva connected from her lips to the tips. He rubbed off the spit and tapped her thigh. 
"Come on.. let's check out and get out of here," he said, sitting up in the chair. 
She stood on wobbly legs, she quickly threw on her clothes and picked up the lingerie which was hanging on the wall. Jean came over to her, pressing a kiss onto her cheek before heading towards the door of the dressing room. 
Jean took her hand into his, heading towards the checkout counter. The two stood waiting as the cashier began to scan the item, Jean's hand went to her ass, causing her to look up at him. 
"Let me get you another one.. this one is covered in something," the cashier said, smiling a bit. 
(Y/N)'s cheeks grew warm, a chuckle coming from Jean. "Weird! We didn't notice that," he replied. 
The cashier came over with the same lingerie. "Have a good day," she said, handing over the bag.
(Y/N) smiled and exited the store with Jean, embarrassment written all over her face. "That was.. not good," she said, rubbing the back of her neck. 
Jean chuckled, taking her hand into his. "I found it pretty amusing.. but we should finish what we started," he said, smirking. 
"Sounds like a plan to me.." she replied, looking up at him. 
Jean laughed before taking her towards the car.
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writingssummit · 4 years
Text
𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐤𝐲𝐮𝐮 𝐚𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐬 !
haikyuu as dads!
find the mha version here - bnha as dads !
content: fluff, the boys with children. mentions pregnancy. aged up!
characters: bokuto, daichi, sugawara, lev, and kuroo.
a/n: i’ve been feeling very soft and even though i don’t even really like kids lol, this prompt make me so warm and happy :’) keep in mind that I’m not super far into haikyuu, so i don’t know a lot about the timeskip- sorry !! also a bit messy and unorganized.
so without further ado, here are some soft scenarios and headcanons for each :D
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bokuto !
Pleaseeee, we all know he’d be such a good dad!!
You’re tired? Don’t worry, he can watch them while you rest!
Can and WILL play with them for hours.
And of course, he has the energy to keep them preoccupied. This man has more energy than I ever will on 2 cups of coffee with 3 shots of espresso in each.
Mans probably would want a bigger family, but of course as long as you were fine with it.
Thinking maybe 3+. He just wants to have that big family to share with you :’) aww
When you’re pregnant, he’s all over you. Protective to the point of it being a little overwhelming, but he means well.
Pokes your belly a little. Not harshly, but in a loving, gentle way.
“That’s my baby. Right in there.”
Probably cries a little when your baby bump shows.
More so during your first pregnancy, but he still holds that same emotion with the others.
He does NOT know what to do the first time.
“THEY’RE CRYING, Y/N WHAT DO WE DO??”
When the kid/s start getting older, oh lord. He’s such a sucker for them.
Probably gives them ice cream or sneaks candy when you aren’t in the room, even though IT’S ALMOST TIME FOR BED.
I’m sorry, but he cannot and will not be able to help with homework. I’m sorry but it’s true.
If your kid/s have a passion, he’s 100% for it.
Dance? He’ll go to all of the recitals he can make. Volleyball? Even better. Writing? He’ll sit in front of them and have them read it out to him like it’s a bedtime story.
I don’t think he’d be a good cook, so whenever he takes over for dinner, everyone is like “Oh no. Dad’s cooking again.”
Overall, 100/10 dad. Supportive, and does his best. Good boyo <3
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daichi !
I think he’d be a good dad too :D
He was kind of just a natural father, so it’s expected.
I think that he originally wanted to bring up the topic of kids to you at some point, but he was hesitant since he didn’t know if you were ready.
So of course, you beat him to the conversation.
He’s very happy that you want to start a family too. :)
I think he’d want a smaller family, maybe 1-2 kids.
When you test positive, he’s kind of in shock for a moment.
“We’re going to have a kid-”
Like duh lmao he put it in you
Definitely calls Suga up to tell him the news.
Is actually very interested in shopping for a baby. He needs a few pointers but he’s got the enthusiasm, so A for effort bby
He’s decently used to having a small child running around him screaming, he had little siblings so yeah
Has a bit more structure than bokuto, but he’s still able to break.
He’d do damn near anything for his kid/s.
He has his moments where he wants to spend alone time with just you.
Decent homework helper, but I feel like he’d be that one parent who goes “This wasn’t how I was taught to do this”, or “Why did they change that??”
Again again, supportive dad.
But also supportive of you <3
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sugawara !
Being a teacher, he’s surrounded by kids all the time.
Basically, he is also used to having screaming children within his vicinity
I could never omg how do you do that Suga
At first he didn’t put much thought into a family, he and you were content just the two of you. Also. CHILDREN HE TEACHES.
But something just switches in his brain, probably after he had a really wholesome moment with a student, or maybe even just witnessing a parent + student interaction.
He’s like, “I kind of want that..”
Another small fam kinda guy <3
Suga brings it up, and you’re all for it, you’ve been wanting to start a family with him.
He’s so excited and happy!! oml :’)
Like, he finally gets to start a whole new chapter of your lives together he hadn’t really thought about until now.
When you get a baby bump, he plants soft kisses to your tummy and talks gently to it.
My heart ksjshd
This will be a nightly occurrence now.
He is reading all those articles for raising kids. He’s also at your beck and call, even the baby’s.
He just wants everything for the baby, they end up being a huge daddy’s kid.
Late nights after the kid/s go to bed is prime time for you both.
You enjoy being together after a long day, you snuggle up together in your bed, maybe drink some wine later.
PLEASE. Breakfasts in bed. He and the kid/s will TOTALLY MAKE YOU B in B.
So proud of your kid/s. Has pictures in frames on his desk at school, and when his students ask, he has plenty of stories to tell.
Knows when something is off. Like, he can just tell-
Kid is sad? He’s there. Tissues, ice cream, take them out somewhere.
Probably a teaser.
You already know he gets himself and that kid/those kids into mischief.
“Shhh, don’t tell mom!”
He has deep conversations with them. He cares a lot.
He just loves them <3
10/10
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kuroo !
it’ssss kuroo time babyyy
He definitely wanted kids. Strikes me as the guy who just knew, as soon as you got married.
When that test came up positive, he had a dorky smirk on his face.
He’s very proud to know you will have his kid.
This dude is always checking up on you. Morning sickness? He’s there to hold your hair back. 
Feeling clingy or upset? Wraps his arms around you.
Lazy pats on your stomach when it’s late.
Why does he seem like he’d play mozart around you because he read somewhere that fetsuses liked that
Sir please we don’t need to listen to Alla Turca (Allegretto) for 12 hours straight
He’s 100000/10 homework helper. Mans is smart af, it’s not even surprising.
“I forgot how smart you were” 
“Shut up”
You both are probably so mushy with each other that your kid/s are like “Ew gross”
He encourages and pushes them to do their best. 
Helps them find what they’re passionate about. <3
Dad jokes. I’m serious.
“Please stop, dad!”
“One more, one more-”
Enjoys making them suffer with terrible jokes.
In a nice way of course.
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lev !
saved the funny one for last!
Okay maybe not super funny, but I had fun writing this
He and you did NOT plan to get pregnant. At ALL.
“Lev the test is positive”
“Wh-WHAT?”
Promptly falls off of chair.
Like this dude was not ready for that information
Tbh he would make even me anxious about it
“..do I have to give them the talk?”
Lev please it hurts me
As soon as he gets used to it though, he’s excited like he usually is. 
But this is different. This is a whole HUMAN. 
“Do you think I’ll be a good dad, Y/N?”
“Do you want me to be honest?”
Jkjk that was a joke.
I think Lev has the potential to be a good dad. He’s energetic, passionate and dumb, but in a good way <3
Sorry again, no homework help with him LMAO
Your kid will probably be tall. Or at least average height.
After the original surprise pregnancy, he wants to try again but when you both are actually ready.
He would totally take these kids out everywhere. A show off dad for sure
“Hey, did you know my kid did xyz?” 
“Look, here’s a picture!”
Lev we get it you love your kids 
He would love to have a volleyball loving kid I feel like, but he wouldn’t be too disappointed if they didn’t like it. Would probably propose other sports though, he always loved playing himself, even if it was only volleyball so he wants them to have the same good experiences
If he’s watching the kids while you’re shopping, he doesn’t really know how the first few times- even though you left him A LIST.
Probably then calls his friends up for advice
If it comes down to it...consults WikiHow
and that’s it!! hope you enjoyed, some were harder to write but yk what- i had fun :D as much as i am suga brainrot i literally had a hard time writing his section :’( 
but anyways yuh B)
asks/requests are open ! check yay’s and nay’s in basics for this blog !
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vemuabhi · 4 years
Text
Child! Mihawk X Child! Reader - Memories
Hello everyone! This is my first time writing about Mihawk and.... believe me I really loved writing for this. This was requested by Mxlk_Hxnei (Wattpad)
Pairing : Mihawk X Reader
Summary : Mihawk Remembers all the childhood moments of you and him. Its fluff! so im sure youll enjoy it!
A/N : I now Love Mihawk more than before after writing for him! He is absolute treasure!
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“Mii-Kun!”, you call your boyfriend as he was enjoying his wine. “Lets go out to the nearest shopping island, I’m bored”, you tug his sleeve gently as you make your request. He lets out a sigh and gets up indicating ‘Lets go’. You happily make your way to the door. “How many times did I tell her not to call me Mii-Kun”, he puts on his coat and follows you out.
You both go to the nearby island and see that there are many malls in this place and your eyes turned stars looking at those beautiful clothes, swords and all your favourite stuff. Mainly food.
“SUGOII!”, you exclaimed and went into the mall as you still held your swords man hand. To think that the worlds greatest swords man was following your every step like a puppy was a sight to see. In his defence he was making sure you were protected. He sat in a chair as you tried on new clothes. Then he noticed a little boy and girl walking together. This reminded him of how you both were when you were kids.
“Wahh~~”, you started to cry when you fell down and scraped your knee. Mihawk came towards you and sat beside you. His eyes filled with pure worry and he tried to calm you down but being a person not so good with words he couldn’t say anything. He gently placed his arms around you and cuddled you. Your sobs slowly turned to sniffs and he pulled back. He took his kerchief and tied it around your knee and pulled you up. You took his hand and walked with him. “Mii kun is so kind”, you praised him and his face flushed and he looked down. Because of his behaviour not a single child of your age even talked with him. It wasn’t his fault. He just wasn’t used to talk and smile. You were the only person who talked with him. He only had you.
One day you stood infront of his house and called him. That was the first time a friend actually came to his house. He looked out from his window only to find you smiling brightly at him and waving your two hands at him. He noticed that you were holding two cotton candies and came down to get you. As he came down you offered him one cotton candy and obliged. “Happy Birthday Mii-kun! I had less money so I brought this. It’s sweet, cheap and also delicious. And I need to go now because it’s getting late. Bye!” with that you hugged him and left. Leaving him in the happiest state. He took a bite from the pink cotton candy and his heart began to beat faster. He felt like it was the most delicious sweet he ever ate. Not because of the cotton candy but the way someone remembers him, cared for him to even get him something. His cheeks turned pink lie the candy he was eating. He didn’t knew what this feeling was turning into.
One evening, as usual he was waiting for you in the park but you didn’t come. He got a bit worried and started to head towards the direction of your house. Then he saw you were talking with a guy, he never saw before. He hid and just watched you. You were smiling at that stranger. He didn’t know what to do. ‘Of course who would want to play with the ‘Weird Kid’ of the place? He was lucky that you even played with him till now’, he thought and with that he headed back to his place. But… for some reason he went to the park. There were no one in the park as usual. Because all the kids loved to play in the bigger park. He was all alone now so he felt the park was 10x times emptier when you weren’t with him. He went and sat on the swing. There he remembered how you two would play on the swing and in the sand box. The way you fell down from the seesaw and cried. These all memories flooded back to him and he couldn’t stop his emotions. His tears flowed down his cheek. He didn’t show emotions often but it didn’t mean that he didn’t have them. He silently sobbed and tried to wipe his tears but they wouldn’t stop.
“OH NO WHAT HAPPENED? WHY ARE YOU CRYING?”, he was surprised to listen to your voice. He looked at his side and saw that you were there looking at him with pure worry. He asked, “Why are you here? I thought you wouldn’t come because you had new friends”, he said as he sniffed. He didn’t look at you. He looked down as to hide his tears. But then he felt your arms wrap around him. “I have only one best friend and its you, you idiot! So don’t ever cry”, you declare and he sobbed harder on your shoulder and after a few minutes he of sobbing he finally was able to speak so he said, “You are my only friend. And only best friend and only one for me, so don’t go away”
“Where would I go? I will always be beside you to irritate you. If I go away from you who will make me stop crying whenever I scrap my knee”, you say as you pull back from him and smile. You took his hand and started to walk towards his house. Then as you made sure he wasn’t crying anymore you went back to your house. That night he thought of the incident again. Then he realised how beautiful you looked in the sunset, How he embarrassed himself in front of you, how he felt so sad when you weren’t there… Then it hit him. He didn’t just like you. He had feelings for you.
Oh poor boy tried for years to show his feelings to you but… you being the airhead never even noticed those. Would anyone believe that that the world’s greatest swords man trembled in fear to confess his love? But to his happiness, when he was 19, one day you confessed to him first. Oh boy! How happy he felt that time. He hugged you tight and said yes a hundred times.
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(A/N : Dont deny! He is looking Handsome af here too!)
Then he was brought back to present when he felt your hand on his shoulder. “Is everything alright Mii kun?” you ask with a hint of worry in your eyes.
“Nothing. Don’t worry”, he says assuring you. You smile and ask him, “Tell me is this good?” you twirled around and show him your new outfit. His heart skipped a beat when he saw how beautiful you were. He loved it. He smiled and said, “You look beautiful in it” which made your cheeks turn pink and you smiled at him as you thanked him. You loved how he smiled at you. You loved how he cared for you. You loved how much important you were to him. Over all, you love him with all your heart. You were a bit slow but, you did loved him from the start. You both smiled at each other as you continued to check out the other things which interested you.
XOXOXOXO
I hope you liked it!
Dont forget to like, share and comment!
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beann-e · 4 years
Text
Mha characters reacting to you forgetting things in the store
Read Part One Here
Deku
You’d been traveling down different aisles for hours so many that deku found himself getting amazed that the store could even hold this many
he found himself thinking that the store just had its own shape shifting quirk that could change the aisles anytime someone went down them
that was the only way to explain it I mean It had to have one right because how did you find this new brand of ceral and he didn’t
How did you just pick up this new candy bar that he had never known abo—
wait candy bar
he snapped himself out of his trance drawing himself back into the real world finally hearing your voice and seeing your cart that was filled to the brim with different items from the original plan that he didn’t even know you two needed
“ oh god babe look — they “ you jumped in your shoes as you reached up to the top shelf “ they have hot chocolate “
“ we um y/n— baby”
you turned to him with a smile on your face
“ we don’t nee— “
“ deku could you get the hot chocolate it’s too far in the back at the top my hand doesn’t reach that way it’s at an awkward angle “
he looked to the floor for a moment before turning his head to look at the hot chocolate biting his lip as he stayed in his spot on the ground maybe if he just stayed here he could lie and say he’d been hit with a glue quirk you wouldn’t know righ—
your stare sent chills down his spine as he hurried over to pickup the box setting it neatly on top of the rest of the things in the cart shaking his head when he finally seen everything you’d gotten
He could never tell you no
all he wanted was for you to be happy he loved seeing you and everyone else happy he hated to see people with any other emotion it made him feel like it was his fault regardless of who it was
family or friend
villian or hero
he felt like everyone deserved to be happy which is why he was following every order you gave him like a puppy
his little protests every once and a while falling on deaf ears
“ my love we don’t need crackers “
“ but I want to make s’mores “
“ but baby then you have to get the rest of the ingredients for s’mores you can’t just buy crackers “
he moved to grab the box carefully putting it back a pout on your face as he bit his lip shaking his head in defeat and holding it out to you and looking to the floor
“ yay —now where are the other ingredients for ‘ em do you know deku ? “
his last attempt finally hitting you when you two were standing in line to checkout “ y/n “
“ yeah “
“ baby can —how about I pay for the stuff ok “
you looked at him in shock
“ I don’t —you just did all the shopping and I want to help and let you rest “
he reached in his pocket as he maneuvered the cart to be placed In line dropping his keys in your palm “ here—go sit In the car ok my love “
he kissed your forehead as he moved up in the line
“ but—“
“ no I swear I got this just go you’ve been on your feet all day “
“ but dek—“
“ look how about this “
he moved to stand on the side of the cart next to you “ you tell me what you really look forward to that your buying and i’ll make sure to get that first ok so you know that I got it and whatever else is in the cart i’ll pay for last ok “
you smiled as you listed off the ten things you’d originally had a taste for which, is why you guys ended up going to the store in the first place
you just wanted to get some groceries so you two could have some food in your new apartment
Deku had finally agreed to move out of his moms apartment thinking that she was ok and had finally come to terms with him being a real hero
allowing him more time to spend with you after making sure she was taken care of
The hero association offered him a house with no down payment after they found out but they were hit with your boyfriend saying no and explaining how you would both like to work hard for everything you two get in the future
sad thing is you wanted the house
you kissed his cheek leaving the store him putting every item you just said on the check out register watching it move up as he started conversation with the lady in front of him
“ yeah being a hero’s actually harder than I thought “
he laughed as he watched her ring everything up “ y’know actually could you do me a favor “
she shook her head small smile on her face as he gulped “ might uh — might be a weird request bu— “
“ no we don’t do hero referrals here “
“ wait no I — wait hero referrals no I “ he laughed uncomfortable with how many people were around “ no I don’t want to trade companies — uh let’s not uh “
he looked around making sure no one heard as he set his arms on the ledge speaking soft “ let’s uh let’s not say that aloud ok y’know —cameras—my company — and yeah “
he cleared his throat “ what I was actually y’know talking about was “
“ we don’t do — “
“ please allow me to speak “
she moved to scan his items as he sighed and started over “ again this may be a weird request but can you um — can you just like take this and put it back “
“ oh yeah of course you should of just said that “ she cupped her mouth as she screamed to her friend “ hey mari can you put his item back for me “
“ yeah sure —an item where’s it at ?“
“ oh it’s um not just one ite— “
“ it might be this — I don’t know who eats canned fruit so — he’s probably putting it back “
“ no uh — “ his eyebrows furrowed in slight annoyance “ actually my s/o eats those i’m not putting them back “
he whispered under his breath “ they’d kill me “
“ ok then where’s the item “
he laughed as he talked to her “ well um I meant could you actually put this back “
“ oh yeah sure if it’s just like 4 thin—- the whole cart“
her eyes widened as she watched deku push the cart towards her “ s-sir the — that’s like our whole store in one cart “
he shook at the comment
“ do you know how long i’m going to be walking around and putting things back where they belong “
his head dropped in embarrassment as he turned red his ears wiggling in fear “ oh trust me I know —i should be applying for manager with the way I know every aisle by heart now “
she shook her head and grabbed the cart as she rolled off
“ w-wait actually “
he ran after her as he rummaged through the cart “ ok yeah got it i’m done “
she stood stone faced as she looked to the male in front of her in pure annoyance and hatred
“ you stopped me to grab the things to make s’mores from the cart “
“ my —my s/o wants to try s’mores “
“ you have to be the best boyfriend ever or something because you allowed them to get all this stuff and waste your time and mine just to put it all back “
the lady at the register moved to grab his card bagging his stuff and handing it to him “ the fact you even acknowledged this and love them enough to let them run wild in the store for hours —like a child says a lot “
“ their not a kid “ he snapped eyes hard on the woman in front of him only softening when he saw her scared expression
“ yes I do — I love them and just being in their company so I love our trips when they get lost in what their doing and I just get to see them happy “
he left the store hand gripping at the backseat as placed the bags he held there
smile nervous and shaky while getting in the driver seat starting the car
“ babe I coulda sworn I got more stuff than that “
he shuddered as he sweated “ I—wh—no I —that’s all you l-left me in the store with babe—with —with your stuff“
his nervous smile widened “ got —got it all “
“ huh guess you did I was kinda out of it anyways “
you looked to him he looked away afraid to make eye contact
“ oh yeah deku did you get the stuff for us to make s’mores I totally forgot to tell you I left it off the list of things I wanted when you asked “
he took a deep breath as he turned his left turn signal on ‘ thank god I stopped her ‘
“ I got it y/n your good “
you smiled as you looked to the backseat again “ damn it is really bugging me that I really only had so little in a cart that looked so full “
his grip tightned as he pulled into your apartments parking lot “ god it all looked like so much in the cart“
“ yeah that uh that happens to people —it’s—it’s like science my love “
you moved to open the door to the backseat as he screamed at you through the cracked window from the drivers seat
“ hey uh babe you can go in the house I got it “
“ aw your so sweet deku you keep doing nice things for me “
he shook his head up and down as he watched you walk off to your new shared apartment
his head falling to the steering wheel as the horn went off in a slight honk jolting him head only moving over a bit mouth opening in a silent prayer
“ god of all might I ask that you don’t allow her to find out — and shit—theres no way to hide thi —wait I didn’t mean to curse don’t hurt me quirk gods please —i’m just stressed “ he almost cried when he thought about it
“ god we even live in the same apartment now there’s no way I can keep a secret or even the fact that I put her groceries back to myself all night “
he cursed as he thought about everything you were so happy about “ please I pray I haven’t left anything important or seriously i’m gonna cry “
he sucked it up as he got out the car walking through the hallway and placing the bags on the marble top walking over to go sit down trying to get as far away from you as possible
hoping if he could go to sleep or even stay out of your way he may be able to get out of this
his body doing what he wanted by almost falling asleep until he heard your voice pout out in front of him “ baby — have you seen my advil “
his eyes widened” I swear I bought ‘em because my head was killing m— wait deku babe why are you crying “
“ I— I i’m worsening your headache — I— I i’m making y-you hurt “
your eyes opened as you hugged him tightly “ no no why would you say that “
his voice was whiny as tears fell “ I put all your stuff back and only got what you could remember —which was only 10 things because I knew the stuff you remembered was the stuff you really wanted “
he sucked up his tears as he looked at you “ but I got you s’mores— I put everything else back but got you s’mores “
he choked back a cry “ baby I put your stuff back “
your voice was hot as you moved away from him flicking his head after turning your body towards the door “ you put my stuff back—all my important stuff that i was looking forward to “
he shook his head as you went to grab the keys “ asshole “
you slammed the door his body shaking as he heard the car start up wiping at his eyes
moving to the door to lock it only to hear the door open wide and present you who fell straight into his chest that was blocking the entrance
voice muffled as you spoke “ I can’t even remember half the stuff I picked up “
118 notes · View notes
ms-indifferwnt · 4 years
Text
Clouds pt 1
Taeil
Boyfriend!Taeil x genderneutral!Reader
"Its your choice, pretend you don't know or go inside and confront them about this"
Warning: Cursing, Suggestive, Yelling, Angst, mention of mental harm 
Word Count: 5.4k
Note: Yayyy!!! 100 followers
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Taeil and you probably take the cake for the most Clichè love story. The Best friends to lovers trope. Like seriously, you and Taeil have been friends since birth, technically, Your mom and his mom has been friends since college you see, met and gotten married to the love of their lives a year apart, gotten pregnant almost the same time and have birth a couple of months apart, so in reality, you and Taeil have been fated to be bestfriends 
When you were born six months apart after Moon Taeil, he and his family visited you and your mother in the Hospital while your dad was busy running around the hospital telling everyone he was a dad
Ofcourse you and Taeil had no memory of this but your mom’s were more than happy to introduce their children. Shipping the two of you since you were born
You were six years old, that was your first memory of Taeil, maybe because you always thought of him as the annoying kid that lives a block away who loves to pester you, you were playing with other kids when, your neighbor, Doyoungie (who you had affectionally nicknamed, bunnie at the time) had kicked the ball to your face you remembered that you cried as he said sorry. You were angry and hurt and Taeil was the only one who laughed at the scene but upon seeing your crying face he hugs you and holds your hand “Aww don’t cry, Y/n” he says happily “Lets go play more ok?”
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Taeil’s first time thinking of you as someone more than the snotty brat he was forced to take care of was when you got lost, he didn’t have to take care of you then, but he thought he’d bring you along, he was five and you were turning four and he wanted to buy ice-cream,  you wanted ice-cream, so he took you along to that ice-cream shop by the corner. It wasn’t dangerous his mom was with you
He bought ice cream, two of them, knowing that you won’t be able to finish it so he can eat two ice-creams but the moment he turned he doesn’t see you. He panicked and started looking for you all over the shop, trying not to alert his mom but when all hope seemed lost, he started sobbing, where are they? are they hurt? They’re mom is gonna be so sad-
“Mooooom!” He cries and runs to his mother who holds the boy in her arms 
“Why are you crying what happened?”
“Y/n” He looks around “I cant find”
His mom smiles fondly at the boy “Are you worried?”
He nods “I’m supposed to protect them!” He cries and his mom coos gently carrying him and taking him out of the shop, placing him down
“ok, my strong boy” His mom says and kisses the top of his head, “look there” He obeys, with teary eyes only to spot you walking towards them with cotton candy in her hands and he pulled away from his mom to run to you
“Where were you?” He asked and held your face 
“Clouds” You claimed happily showing the cotton candy proudly to him
“You should’ve waited” He sniffled and you reached over to wipe his cheeks, he smiles, but didn’t stop you
“Sorry” You whisper and he nods opening his mouth so he can taste the clouds and you happily letting him take a bite
He looks up to see his mom and your dad grinning at the sight “Hi, Y/n’s dad” he waves and looks at you who was playing with the cloud on your hand “No, Y/n.” He takes it and bonks your head making you wince “you’ll get sticky-”
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You and Taeil literally grew up side by side, He was there for you back in middle school when this girl bullied you because you and Taeil would always be together.
Taeil wasn’t happy the way that girl treated you but you always ignored her, she was just jealous that you were bestfriends with him, so you had a habit of holding him back whenever he was about to say something to her, or you try to anyway
“Taeil” you hissed and tugged on his shirt again once he stared down at her, of course you know Taeil is a big softie who cries over Hachiko, The dog that waited for his master by the train station despite his master dying, and that dog from I am Legend, so you know he really means no harm, its just, its his big brother instincts that make him fight anyone who attempts to harm you cause as he quotes “You’re an annoying little snot rag I had to take care of, So if anyone has the right to mentally harm you its me” and rewarded him with a kick to the shin “Lets just go, leave her be”
He looks at you and you smiled softly “We can go get clouds before we go home” you offered once he allows you to take him away, he raises an eyebrow at your words
“You’re fourteen and you still call them clouds?”
You roll your eyes “Cotton candy” you said in distaste “That is the most disgusting word I have ever heard of, Clouds on the other hand, sounds more magical”
He laughs “What about I start calling dumplings as meat pockets again?”
You made a face “What are you five?”
“I’m as cute as one”
“I hate Toddlers”
“No you don’t” He says and leads you to his bike, getting on it after handig you his backpack “You love kids”
You sat by the back, sitting on it with your legs to the side while you held on to his waist, pinching his side “No, I don’t”
He flinches and moves to swat your hands “Yes, you do, you love kids, you would play with them at the park whenever their parents are busy,” he points out and starts biking
“I have no idea what you’re taking about-”
“Look its Baby Yuri” he says saying the name of that child you were always so fond of
You perked “Where?” only to see that its an empty road and a laughter coming from him as a reminder that Baby Yuri’s house is far from here “Jerk” you glared at him and pinched him again, he swats your hand away “now hurry up and teach me how to read Morse codes” you said and held on to the back of his shirt
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The time Taeil stopped thinking like you were his little sister was when you dated on your second year of high school. Yes, cliché, but, at first he didn't care, he congratulated you and helped look stunning, he wasn't bitter that you were trying to show off for someone else, or that you were nervous to go on a date with someone else (not true, he did care, he was bitter, he hated every minute of it)
Three months into your relationship, you were crying in Taeil's arms, cause, apparently you had a fight, cause you were to close to Taeil and your fight resorted to yelling and you attempting to kick them
So when you called him, but you didn’t speak, he just heard your heavy breathing he knows you were upset, he knows that you’re trying every thing to not cry, he knows that if you speak you just might, so, he spoke first “Yours or mine?” he stops about three seconds after the first choice so you can hum or grunt (whichever you had the energy to do), then he’ll know what your answer is
You grunted at his second offer, and he stands up from his bed to start cleaning up around the house, “Sure, come over, you want me to pick-” He looks at his phone and you declined the call, so you’ll be coming over yourself. 
He moves to get to work, cleaning up the mess and getting the snacks you like before you arrive, and when he was finished, there you were, on his porch, looking like you were about to kick his door in
He reaches out to hold your hand which you pulled it away and walked inside. He wasn’t offended, he knows why you don’t like the affection, he knows that you breakdown easily. The fact that you haven’t even teared up yet was amazing, but you aren’t outside, you aren’t alone, It’s Taeil, your bestfriend the boy that has been by your side all your life so he knows, you need a hug
He grabbed you by the arm to pull you into his chest, you gasped and attempted to push him away but he shushes you with a small affectionate kiss on your forehead, “its ok,” he whispers “I know you wanna be strong, so its ok, its just me, you did well, you’ve been so strong up until now” he holds you close that you tightened your grip on his shirt “Its just me, Let me be strong for you”
You cried into his chest that day, after his words. You would never admit it, but Taeil is probably the only one who has seen you cry, he doesn’t mind, he’s your Strength, he knows that, you know that, so when it gets too much Taeil lets you cry on him lets you take it out, he makes you feel taken care off And he wouldn’t have it any other way
He managed to calm you down, petting your hair and then he bonks you, making you look at him, tear stained cheeks, eyes bloodshot, he laughs as you rub your head “Feel better?”
“A bit, yeah”
He hums and pulls away “Go take a shower,” he moved to his cupboards and taking out a fresh towel, handing it to you, well actually he didn’t hand it, he fucking threw it to your face, and yeah it hurt, but it made you laugh and he smiles back “Go clean up, I’ll lend you some of my clothes” he sighs “again. Snotty,” He teases “You gotta return my clothes sometime today, the near future”
You smile “No, I like them, go buy new ones instead” 
He laughs “Brat, I need my clothes”
You pout and crossed your arms "You're gonna make me cry again, big brother" you called him that only when you want something, and yeah, it usually works, but something about being referred to as big brother 
He rolls his eyes and threw one of his sweatshirts to you making you yelp, “Shut up and go”
You obeyed, smiling softly at him. He stares at his hands, You haven’t called him Big Brother for a very long time and something about that made his blood boil
He just wishes he knows why. He’s been feeling like this for quite sometime, whenever you get to friendly or to close to someone, he has no idea if he should be angry at you or that person your talking to. 
He settled on the sofa with a sigh and looked at the tv, where the opening scene of your favorite show was paused, your favorite snacks on the coffee table. His ears perked when he heard the familiar sound of his bathroom door opening, you were done, he turned to see your figure disappear somewhere behind his house, he knows what you’re doing you were gonna hang the towel you borrowed, then you reemerged, hair still obviously wet (you didn’t bother to properly dry it, he guesses, again), leaving wet splotches on his sweatshirt. You went up the stairs, he smiles, he has a feeling you’ll get pillows from his room, he can hear the door of his room open, yup he is right.
He stood up to get the towel you hanged and walked back to the living room to see you eating the snacks while cuddling his pillow, He really does know you now. He throws the towel at you “Dry your hair properly, or shave your head” he points out and you sigh, doing as your told with a playful kick to his thighs
Once you were done he leaves to hang it again, when he returns and sees you, he smiles excitedly sitting beside you, and you play the movie
It was just a random movie that you accidentally started liking (he was ninety-nine percent sure you only like it cause Ewan McGregor, who you think is “surprisingly charismatic”, is in it). He wasn’t watching though, the movie wasn’t interesting, he was watching you, reading you body language and facial expression, checking if you really are feeling better
He didn’t realize how hard he was staring at you, ‘till both of your eyes met, he froze, you were so close, his heart skipped a beat, was it just him? or was your eyes always that sparkly?
You lift your hand and placed the snack against his lips, feeding him “take a bite so you’ll stop looking at me like a lost puppy”
He blushes and nods, taking a bite. Looking away, he held his hands. He is fucking screwed
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You on the other hand found out you liked him around college. Unfortunately, you and Taeil have drifted apart over time. You don’t hang out as usual, he is studying a different major than you after all, it was only natural you both have other friends
You didn’t like it
Over time you and Taeil have been going through your own time, like getting your own apartments and campus that we want to be on, It doesn’t change, you and Taeil go to and from the Campus and Your houses around the same time since you are neighbors but when the two of you get to the Campus its like neither of you know each other 
Growing up with Taeil means, he was with you every waking moment and all of a sudden its gone, who will get used to that? He has been the person you grew with, who held yo while you were in pain and made you laugh when you were sad 
“I miss you” You whispered one time as you sat on to the passengers seat of his car when you both were heading home for the holidays “A lot” you whispered quiet enough so that he won’t hear but you were wrong
Ever since Taeil accepted the fact that he likes you he has become more insightful in things that upset you, and he can see (he doesn’t know why) but he can see how upset you were and hearing you say that, he didn’t mean it, but it gave him hope that you liked him too
That week Taeil climbed your window to wake you up, knocking on your window 'till you eventually woke up
You weren't exactly asleep, you were to busy looking at your hands, thinking about your Christmas dinner at the Moon Household, you and you're family was there except you and Taeil haven't even attempted to try and speak or approach each other and it only hurt you more when neither of you tried. You sat up and froze, seeing a shadowy figure by your window and your instincts went to overdrive and you opened your mouth to scream for your father
Taeil noticed your on guard position and he shakes his head, knocking against your window in a pattern that he wishes to every one holy that you remember
“Da-” you stopped midway once you hear the knocking looking at the figure, you realized it was Morse code, you listened as the figure tapped the glass, long tap, pause, That’s a ‘T’ tap, long tap, pause, And that’s an ‘A’ tap, pause, what is that one again? Tap, Tap, pause, I remember this one its an ‘I’ tap, long tap, tap, tap
You looked at the figure “Taeil?” you asked and opened the window, Taeil climbing in letting out a sigh of relief “What the hell are you doing here?”
He laughs “I was bored,” You frowned and sat on your bed, glaring at the boy making him raise both his hands in defense “I’m kidding, don’t hit me”
You rolled your eyes and lied sown on the bed “Yeah well, leave, I was sleeping” facing away from him
“We both know you weren’t”
“shut up”
He smiles and taps your thigh over the blanket “Scoot over, I had a nightmare, don’t wanna sleep alone”
You turned to look at him “What are you five?”
“Is that a no?” He asks with a sly smile, holding the blanket up so he can join you when you agree
You sighed, scooting to the side and he slides in beside you “Big baby”
He laughs, but covered his mouth to not wake your parents “I didn’t really have a nightmare” he whispered and moves to tuck an arm underneath his head as you copy his movements, the two of you facing each other “You were avoiding the at the party”
You scoffed “No, you were avoiding me” you huffed
“Are you ok?” He asked reaching up to swipe the hair that covers your face “You’ve been extremely quiet”
You yawned, you felt safe I his presence to even fall asleep to it, you couldn’t help but smile softly at the action “I’m ok” you lied, closing your eyes
“Don’t lie to me” he says, he has known you long enough to know when you lie and he won’t let it pass “I wanna help you”
“There’s nothing you can do”
“There will be if you tell me”
“Taeil”
“Y/n” 
You opened your eyes only to see him staring at you, with worry and care “I hate you”
He smiles, and you felt your cheeks warm up at the sight “No you don’t” You rolled your eyes and he nods “Tell me when you’re ready, but for now” he takes her free hand in a promise “I won’t leave your side, and don’t leave mine”
You looked at him, the at your hands, before nodding “Promise?”
He nods “Promise” He smiles as he watches you yawn “Get some sleep, ok?”
“Ok” you whisper and start to doze off “That’s all I ever wanted,” you whisper “I miss you” you whisper and fall asleep
Taeil’s heart was beating rapidly against his chest, miss him? what is that supposed to mean? was that even supposed to mean anything? And he was aware that your hands are still intertwined, he blushes, and holds it tighter, afraid of letting go. He watches you sleep this time, glad to see you peaceful, seeing you always made him happy, but sometimes knowing that you will never return these feelings, made him so weak that he wants to do nothing but lie in bed, he closes his eyes,  his finger tapping mindlessly on your pillow
L-O-V-E Y-O-U
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You and Taeil are still very much a bestfriends. And you two hang out majority of the time since Lee Taeyong, someone from Taeil's group of friends, and Suh Johnny, the American exchange student you became friends with started dating
So bam! You and Taeil were automatically the third wheel, which was fun since you two were already friends, everyone was talking and playing around while you and Taeil were speaking to other people. Taeil looks at you as you fed Jungwoo the tart you ordered and Taeil had to bite his tongue from saying something to the innocent boy
He starts tapping against the table as he looks through his phone, hoping you could understand the Morse code despite how loud the surroundings were
You did. And you couldn’t stop smiling, Fid me 2, He spelled, Feed you? and you understood, you must tease the boy “Ew” you said aloud so he’ll hear and he huffs making you laugh
“Aww I didn’t know you guys can read each other minds” Yuta teases and kicks Taeil under the table 
Taeil shrugs “We’re that close”
You roll your eyes, feigning annoyance but you smiled at Taeil as he focuses on other people, joking and playing with them
“I’m hungry” Taeyong says making everybody listen to him, and Johnny nodding 
“What do you wanna eat my love?” He asks and you gagged, making him elbow you 
Taeyong chuckled and nodded “something sweet” he starts and hums
Johnny looks at everyone as they start suggesting food, Johnny and Taeyong turn down some till Taeil spoke “What about clouds?”
The whole room turned quiet and you stared at the boy in front of you, wide eyed while the room started to rumble with questions
“What the fuck is a cloud?”
“We’re talking about food Taeil”
“Taeil, are you stoned?”
“Since when can you eat clouds?”
You bursted out laughing once he starts to redden from your friends words before glaring at you “Y/n help me” You shake your head still too busy laughing, he growls “Its nothing, its an inside joke, you guys wouldn’t understand!” he huffs and lean against his chair, crossing his arms 
Your laughter died sown as you stared at him, his eyes meeting yours and you blushed, taking a bite of your tart, Why are you blushing? you asked yourself, Why is your heart beating so fast? you might pass out if it continues, surely you don't like Taeil, TAEIL of all people, not him
“Y/n did you hear me?” Jungwoo says making you look at him and apologetically shake your head making him chuckle “I asked when you started liking him”
“I don’t”
He raises his eyebrow “Oh really? cool, cause I have this friend who wants me to set them up with Taeil”
You glared at him “Do you wanna die?” you asked annoyed
He laughs and winks “I will once you admit of your feelings” 
You kicked him, then you hear the table buzz, looking up to see someone approach Taeil, shyly offering him a box, “I,” They smiles, cheeks painted red and you couldn’t help but glare at the new comer “I got you some chocolates, I hope you like them”
Taeil bows and takes the chocolates, and you look away, while Jungwoo looks at you, with a sly grin, and you point a threatening finger at him “Not a word”
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Taeil and you confessed in the least romantic way possible, but you loved it all the same, granted you both fought, but it was cute and emotional all the same
He mindlessly played with the flashlight, switching it on and off against his wall, you were asleep on his bed cause you had a fight with your dad about a boy and you decided that sleeping over at Taeil's for the night wouldn't be that bad, so while you slept you lent hi your phone cause his was broken, why? easy, you threw it against the wall cause he wouldn't turn off his alarm "You dance to this shit Y/n" "I don't mind breaking your arm too"
So there he was switching your phone's flashlight on and off after he got bored spamming your gallery with his face. He was a little out of it, but he knows you're awake "You'll drain my battery" you murmured
"It'll charge" He mutters "My phone on the other hand" he says a bit snappy
You pout "I said I'm sorry, and I'm repairing it ok?"
He shrugs and continued going though your phone
You sat up and leaned your forehead against his back "I'm tired I wanna nap again"
"And I wanna date you, we don't get what we want"
You looked up at him so fast that you thought you'd have whiplash "What?" you’re heart beating against your chest
He smiled slyly, trying his best to not blush and moving away from you “End scene” He laughs and playfully winks at you, he chickened out, he hates how angry he has been these past couple of weeks, he hates seeing other people approach and flirt with you, he hates being the subject when you call someone your bestfriend or your older brother, he hates how he can’t push people who wanna keep you away cause he has no right. He hates that it was starting to hurt to look at you, to think about you, its not fair that he likes you and you’ll never be in his arms the way he wants you to. He hates how you’re seeing someone, and it isn’t him. He hates the fact that he loves you, why out of all people, he could love, why you?
“Taeil!” You raised your eyebrow and your voice “What the heck was that supposed to mean “You were kidding?” you didn’t mean it, but sounded so offended and sad, does Taeil really like you? your heart thumped at a quick pace when he looks at you, searching your face for answer
He gulps “why?” he asks facing you “What if I wasn’t?
You stared at him processing “Well-” He moves to tilt his head waiting for you to answer him, you retaliated by hitting him on the shoulder “You didn’t answer me asshole”
He looks at your phone not answering, not fiddling with anything except the morse code app you had in there, turning the sound and you can hear the message
-.-- . ... / -.-- . ... /-.-- . ... 
“What the heck is ‘yes’ supposed to mean?” You started as he starts pressing the app to send you another message and you groaned “just tell me”
.. -- / -.- .. -.. -.. .. -. --. / .. -- / -.- .. -.. -.. -- -. --.
“I’m Kidding?” You read aloud and scrunched your nose “What the heck is that supposed to be? Tell me Taeil!” you yelled and moved slap your phone away from him when he tries to type a new code “Tell me, do you like me or not?” he stares at you “Was it a joke or were you serious?”
He looks at you in shock as you angrily told him those words, why were the you taking this seriously? you don’t like him, right? then why are you so angry? why is it affecting you? “What’s it have to do with you?” 
“Taeil just tell me”
“Why do you need to know if its a joke or not?”
“Just tell me”
“Why? You’re dating someone right now right? why do you need to know?”
“Taeil I’m not..”
“No, tell me why” You opened your mouth when your phone on the floor of Taeil’s room started buzzing, speak of the devil, your phone flashed with his name and it mad Taeil’s blood boil even more when you stood up to take your phone, he grabbed it from your hands before you could answer and threw it to the side, grabbing your wrist and pulling you back on the bed, keeping you there, a hand on your wrist and the other on your waist “Tell me”
You glared at him gripping his collar “What the hell is wrong with you?” You asked angrily “You’ve been salty ever since I asked if I could stay over! You don’t want me here? That’s fine, tell me, you don’t need to let me stay when you clearly don’t want me here!” You’re chest heaved and he could tell you’re just starting “you wanna know why I want to know the truth from you? Cause I care for you more then what a friend, a sibling should do. I hate seeing you with Kim Kochan or Lee Robin those two flirt with you on a basis, you know that right? they cling and keep you all for themselves and I hate it! I hate how fast my heart beats when you smile or when you buy me snacks cause they’re my-”
He cuts you off with a swift kiss to your lips. How could he not, you just confessed you liked him albeit angrily, you still confessed. His lips moved slowly against yours and you froze, your mind on hyperdrive, ‘till he pulled away “I like you too but you’re really loud when you’re upset, we shou-”
You rolled your eyes and pulled his collar, making him crash into you, kissing him again, this time you slowly moved your lips against his, his hands snaking around your waist, to pull you closer, your arms wrapping around his neck
He licks your bottom lip, you groaned softly and he happily sticks his tongue in, gently brushing over your tongue, making you slightly whine and he grins, keeping hold of your as you both play tongue-sies
He pulls away, a string of saliva being the only thing connecting you both before he groans softly at the sight “I love you” he breathes before leaning to trail kisses down your jaw and neck making you tilt your head upward giving him more room. He smiles at the shudder before gripping your waist and pulling on it to make you go up and straddle him “Taeil” you gasped at how bold he was being and he chuckles 
“Say it” he whispers against your ear licking a stripe on it while a hand travels under your shirt making you gasp at the coldness of his hand and the heat of your body, and he smiles “Please? Need to hear you say it”
“Really at a situation like this?” You huff and he only grins at you making you whine “I’ll tell you later, ok?” You tugged on his shirt, in a silent way to command him to do something, and only met with a shake of his head “Taeil” You whined again “fine, I love you too you big dork”
He smiles and happily kissed you again, holding you close before taking your shirt off and giving you everything you asked, encouraging him with every tug of his hair, a gasp and a moan of his name. He was addicted, he never wanted to stop to make you so whiny and needy and putty in his arms
He was happy that night, well dawn, finally having you in his arms, your neck covered in nothing but his marks, and he can see from his position your bruised waist. Oh and his hair, it was in pain, from the way you would pull and tug on it but he loved it, only reminding him that it was all real, his arms and shoulders were bruised but he just smiles at the slight sting before tightening his hold on your waist and kissing the shell of your ear
“No more” you whined and pouted “Please? I am so tired” you begged cupping his cheeks and he couldn’t help it he kissed your palms 
“Stop” he bit his lip and looked at you all wide eyed, seeing your expression, your marks and looking absolutely fucked that he swung his legs over and kissed your nose “Just, just one more, ok? one more round”
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“Dad!” Taeil grumbled “Are you serious right now?”
His dad nods “Yes” He points a finger at his chest “Don’t get me wrong, I don’t care if you are sleeping around, as long as you don’t get STD’s or have a failing grade” He reminds “But any other than that, you’re free to do anything you want. You’re mother and I back in college, we had out share of fun”
Taeil covers his ears “no! no no, I don’t need to know, I don’t need to know my birth story, I don't need to know how sexy mom was, I am seriously going to run away screaming”
“Stop being a baby” His dad says and hits him upside the head, “I’m just saying, when you would sleep with someone, you stay over their place not the other way around, so I was wondering who is that? My son’s special someone? and also, I heard everything lastnight so I’m pretty sure it is a special person, and I wanted to ask if they’ll stay the morning cause, It’s my turn to make breakfast and I wanna know if I should add one more serving”
All of a sudden an excited squeal leaves his mother’s lips as she excitedly ran down the stairs and tackled Taeil “I am so proud of you” She praises and kisses him on the forehead “So so Proud”
“What happened?” His dad asks and She spins to look at her husband 
“It’s Y/n”
He blinks and looks at his son then his wife, around the same time the mom clinged once again to Taeil, “I have been shipping you both since you two were in the womb, I waited twenty one years for the two of you to get together” she squeals and hugs him “Even better you both slept with each other, Honey, cook an extra serving for Y/n. And Taeil good job, satisfying your partners needs in bed is much more important, I approve”
“Mom!” Taeil groans 
“Do you think Their parent’s know? we should invite them , lets go invite them!”
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Part 2
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Hi Comfy, I loved your last family fic so much. I wonder if you could do something similar but with Vesemir? So. I'm thinking, Vesemir hasn't had a chance to date because hes been too busy bringing up Eskel, Geralt and Lambert. He finally meets his childhood sweetheart, Guxart, and they pick up from where they left off. Only issue is, the witchers aren't too sure about getting a step dad!!!!!
I didn’t forget this babe 😘 however I gotta get up at 3:15 am so we’re gonna hit this one with a headcanon format bc I can crank it out faster.
I HC the boys to be teens (Eskel is 18 and Geralt is probably17- ish and Lambert is 14)
Warnings: mention of the foster system, weed, general teenage shenanigans? 
Ves wants the boys to meet Guxart before they make anything ‘facebook official’ - the boys groan at this. V not cool. Big boomer energy. 
Geralt does the typical ‘middle child bullshit’ and makes plans that he “just can't flake on dad! they need me there or the whole thing will fall apart!” - he’s gonna go snog Jask at the drive-in but don't tell Ves. 
Eskel just sighs and takes a massive bong rip right before Guxart gets there. He knows this is gonna be a shit show. He’s got the ‘oldest kid responsibility’ tho so he’s at least gonna be there. his sense of duty is a lil twisted but he's trying his best
Lambert prepares for WAR
He paces his room fuming, he doe not like new people, nor does he like the idea that his dad gets down. he can't handle it. Geralt and Eskel were the ones to give him The Talk. Thinking about Ves??? having a boyfriend????? oh my god?????
Guxart is old fashioned. He tries to talk sports, which almost works until he reveals he’s a fan of Lambert’s team’s rival. 
He tries doing the whole ‘here I brought candy’ but these boys were from the foster system before Ves adopted them and that just makes them edgy. 
He tries asking about their girlfriends and Lambert just snaps “You’re gay, you shouldn’t assume.” like a dickhead
Eskel is at least amiable, or so Ves thinks. He politely laughs at jokes, nods along to stories, asks interesting questions, until Lambert makes a rude joke and Eskel fucking loses it.
Cat’s out, Responsible Eldest Child TM is baked out of his mind and Ves is furious. 
Guxart goes home a little earlier than planned to “give them family time” - he’s just mildly terrified of the little one. 
Geralt comes home in the middle of them getting yelled at and tries to sneak Jask upstairs and that is its own lecture
In the end, they settle for a second go on neutral turf and Lambert takes a hit beforehand this time, not Eskel. 
Geralt is now ready for battle because of all the exaggerated shit he’d heard from Lambert, but he’s the quiet watching kind so he doesn’t pull anything before he’s sure. 
Guxart mentions he saw a really good musician at an open mic night at the coffee shop - it just so happens to be Jask and Geralt immediately likes him 
“He likes Buttercup’s singing, what asshole could like the sweet things he sings about?” - Lambert smacks him upside the head for this, but mostly because he’s tired of hearing “Buttercup this- Buttercup that” 
Eskel warms up a little talking nerdy shit. 
Lambert is still annoyed but stays civil at least. 
Ves deadass almost cries in the car on the way home because he’s just so relieved that his three little nightmares (whom he loves dearly) didn’t drive someone he thinks he really might love away. 
Lambert kinda feels bad and gives him a hug later, once the other boys had locked themselves away in their room, “Sorry dad. I didn’t think it meant that much to you.” 
Ves squeezes him tight and sighs, “I know. I wouldn’t bring someone home if I thought they weren’t good people.” 
Lambert has that really small voice again from when Ves first brought him in as a foster when he was 8, “I just forget sometimes.”
Cue the tearful father-son bonding moment a-la 90′s family drama
Things go much more smoothly after that
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laceymorganwrites · 3 years
Text
Daylight
Word count: 1,241
Warnings: swearing, shitty ex, alcohol
Pairing: platonic Gojo x reader 
Song: Daylight in your eyes - No Angels
It was just your usual Friday night, the time to go out, drink and dance away your problems.
The funny thing was how in this moment those instances of life were, how fleeting and yet everyone tried to hold onto them, never wanting to forget the night but drinking so much so that they would at all costs.
You´d never understand why people would lie to themselves like that.
Of course you liked getting drunk as well, especially in those phases when you were so incredibly sad and defeated like you were now.
But in contrast to young people who met strangers at a club and called them best friends, you actually had a best friend you could rely on.
You´ve been friends with Satoru for years now, having been in the same class back then and now teaching with him.
It was strange how over time you two and so many other things changed, yet some things remained.
Just like your bond.
You had to chuckle when you thought back on all the stupid things you did in your youth, who were you kidding? The stupid things you still did to this day.
The highlight of your day was still seeing him on your break because you just knew he had found something kind of obscure he never tried before and that new candy shop he just couldn´t help but buy half of the things there.
Sometimes he really was like a child, but you knew that it was just a coping mechanism.
Well it wasn´t really surprising, all of you were forced to grow up way too fast, what else were you going to do? Especially when your daily life consisted of grieving for old friends, grieving the person you could´ve been.
And as if that wasn´t enough, you actively taught new kids that would end up just like you if they wouldn´t die sooner.
It was truly tragic but in the end you couldn´t do anything about it, you were bound to the will of the elders.
Well, if you´d listened to them in the first place you could´ve prevented the heartbreak you felt right now, but you never listened, did you? Even back then you and Satoru were the class clowns, preferring your own antics over the boring lectures.
You were strong so you could get away with it, it was funny seeing the teachers run after you and then give up. Of course they could chase you, hell they´d even catch you but it was too much of a bother, you two never changed.
The two of you were the kind of friends where everyone thought you were a couple and you knew it. But instead of denying it and therefore only bringing those rumors spread out of boredom further, you relished in it, pretending to be a couple for fun. And not just any couple, you were the annoying one.
Satoru would always have an arm around you, pulling you close and you´d get into a heated battle of who could come up with the most embarrassing nicknames.
Honestly he was the only one who got you through the day, if only you were more appreciative of that once you got into a relationship.
And what a crappy one it was. You should be glad the guy was gone with another girl by now, but you still cried over that cheating bastard.
Satoru knew from the start that he couldn´t be trusted, but never said anything because you seemed so happy and when he met him, he seemed so nice to you too. You were a grown woman, you could and should make your own decisions. It wasn´t his place to interfere.
But if only he did.
His heart broke when you called him, crying your heart out and sobbing with no end in sight. Oh how badly he wanted to hug you right now. This wasn´t fair. You were too kind for someone like your ex, he didn´t treat you right, didn´t know your worth. It was all so unfair.
So, Satoru to the rescue!
Without missing a beat he raided all kinds of shops in search for anything to lift up your spirits, racing over to your place packed with alcohol and snacks.
Your eyes were still red and swollen from crying as you opened the door for him, a tissue in your hand that was already crumpled up.
The sniffles you made were so vulnerable and broken, it made him so mad.
As soon as you sat down on the couch together you threw yourself at him, hugging him tight and crying into his shoulder.
He did his best to comfort you, hugging you back and soothingly caressing your back. After some time you started eating and drinking, though the emphasis was on drinking clearly.
You had some music playing in the background, not actively listening to it but still it was better to have something on to be white noise, it made you feel less lonely.
Satoru listened to you rant and cry about your ex, not saying much and only contributing more bitter comments when you were in a raging phase. He not only preferred to listen but knew how important it was to get those things off your chest.
I wanna know you better
I wanna push you, baby but never too far
Oh no… you´d recognize that song anywhere. Just now as you were done crying and hated your ex more than anything. Why now? This song…
“That was our song…” you sniffed, feeling the tears dwell up in your eyes again.
You remembered the night so clearly, you were having so much fun at karaoke… curse him and curse that song.
“You know that´s our song, right?” Satoru reminded you but you just looked at him puzzled.
“But he asked me out to that song…” you said, trying to piece together all the moments of the night.
“Yeah I know. I was there. We were singing that song at karaoke. Honestly, we were the best duo out there and then he just interrupted us, so rude” he complained and you remembered.
That´s right. Satoru and you were having a contest with Getou and Shoukou who could make the best duo and some other friends, your ex included were there too.
“You know that he only asked you out to stop you from singing right? He told me afterwards he only did it cause he couldn´t listen to your voice any longer, sound familiar?” he sounded bitter, just like you felt. That asshole. He really treated you like shit.
“Yeah, he always told me to shut up…” you recalled.
“Alright. Up with you” Satoru stood up abruptly and dragged you with him, you were already a bit dizzy from the alcohol and complained about the sudden movement.
“We never got to finish the song, now´s the time” he grinned and then started singing already, encouraging you to join in.
“I wanna be daylight in your eeeeeeyes!” you sang, swirling and jumping around in your apartment, a decision you would come to regret the next morning.
“I wanna be sunlight only waaaaaarmer!” Satoru chimed in, playfully spinning you around.
You sang one or two more songs like that before you let yourself fall on your couch exhausted, resting your head on Satoru´s shoulder.
“You´re the best best friend I could ask for” you slurred before you closed your eyes.
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baroquebucky · 4 years
Text
dating timothée headcanons
a/n: here is my first timothée fic !! let me know what you guys think !!! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE send in some requests for him !!! hope you guys enjoy :~)
timothée is such a soft boy in a relationship
he loves when you say his full name but also loves the many nicknames you have for him
when you first call him timmy or tim he looks at you with the widest smile, engulfing you in a hug as you squeal
you call him by his first and middle name when you’re upset at him or you need him to be serious
he sends you so many memes all the time or if you’re close to him he’ll call you over to look at his phone sometimes he’ll just call your name and throw it at you
he loves cuddling
he will cuddle you on the couch, in your bed, in a chair, literally anywhere
he loves when you play with his hair !!!!!
you could just be sitting there and you start playing with one curl, then another, and soon enough your whole hand is cascading through his soft hair
he loves kissing you !!!!!! cheek kisses, FOREHEAD KISSES, nose kisses, neck kisses
sometimes he’ll just grab your hand and kiss it and tell you how much he loves you
when he’s home he spends every waking and sleeping hour with you
“I’m gonna go shower” “I’ll join you :-)”
grocery shopping with him is way too much fun
you guys would probably make jokes out of anything you see and get things you most definitely did not need
he takes so many pictures of you :-(
any moment he sees you just breathing “don’t move stay like that” and boom, new lockscreen
he gets all blushy when you compliment him or show him off
one time you learned how to say something in French just to impress him and he damn near cried because you went out of your way for him
one time he catches you using duolingo to practice your French and he had to calm himself down before he burst into tears
you found him teary eyed in the hall and proceeded to comfort him thinking he was sad, you didn’t know whether to laugh or cry with him when you found out why he was about to cry
did i mention he is v v clingy
flowers all the time ,,, out getting a snack ??? he’ll buy you some flowers ,,, sees a bush of roses on his way home ??? he’ll pick one to give to you
he could be thousands of miles away and you hear a knock on your door,, the boy ordered flowers online for you
when he’s away acting you guys FaceTime ALL THE TIME
you both fall asleep on the phone together and you always tease him for sleeping with his mouth slightly open
he always leaves you a bottle of his cologne so you can spray it when you miss him
also he leaves you all of your favorite shirts of his so you can wear them all you want
you guys watch the office together all the time and you get him into your favorite tv shows
sometimes you get insecure because you feel like you aren’t good enough for him or you don’t meet up to standards
and he will shoot you down so fast
he’ll comfort you and say all the right things to make you feel better
sometimes he’ll just hold you close and kiss you all over until your giggling to make him stop
which ends up in him posting you everywhere and showing off his darling
and he shows you just how much he loves every inch of you too
if you ever feel insecure he can immediately tell and he starts to reassure you and do whatever you want to make you feel better
you guys always walk around town and find new places to eat and try food
you found a secret park that no one knew about so you always have picnics when he gets back from filming or when you wanna go on a cute date
anything you mention to him as an offhand comment he’ll buy you
this boy absolutely SPOILS you
one time you mentioned how you wanted a locket and the next week he surprised you with one
another time you saw this ring that was pretty and you immediately took it back because it was much too expensive for you and two weeks later ??? it was sitting on your dresser
you find it endearing but you also get upset because you don’t want him to think you’re using him for money
so of course when you bring the box out he has a giant smile on his face and you look at him, slightly upset and he pulls out the puppy eyes
“Timothée Hal Chalamet how many times have i told you to not waste money on me!” You scolded him and he looked so sad
“any money i spend on you isnt a waste i just wanna see you smile” you can’t help but smile at his comment
“do you not like it?” he would get so nervous and play with his hands and you would go and sit next to him, putting the ring on the table.
“honey i love it i just don’t want you to think I’m using you for money because I’m not” he would kiss you and give you a small smile because god how did he get so lucky with you?
he has so many cute nicknames for you- baby, honey, sweetheart, darling, angel, mon amour, ma cherie and so many other soft little names
the amount of inside jokes is insane
it’s no secret that the boy is an absolute goofball so the two of you are always making jokes
that leads to having way too many nicknames that have such an intricate back story
you try to teach him how to properly do the woah but he refuses to learn because “I’m doing it right, it’s everyone else that’s wrong” he would defend
for Halloween you would do couple costumes 1000%
instead of going out to party he would want to stay in with you and give out candy, he loved seeing you smile at all the kids and fake being scared when they tried to scare you
the two of you would watch scary movies all of October, he would always hold you tight as the two of you slept because sometimes you would get a little freaked out
the first time you meet his family is during thanksgiving and you are NERVOUS
you do your makeup and wear your best jewelry and even do your hair a bit so that it looks nice than usual
when you walk out of the restroom all dressed up timmy is speechless bc of how good you look, he kisses you on the cheek and takes so many pictures of you, setting one as his lockscreen right after he takes it
his mom LOVES YOU she thinks you’re the sweetest person in the world
she asks if you know French and you whip out the little French you had learned, thanking the green owl that was on your phone
timothée is so impressed by how well you can pronounce everything, it doesn’t go unnoticed by his family either, everyone praising you and you can’t stop blushing
they end up threatening timmy because they love you so much
and then he meets your family
they love him so much they never want you guys to break up
your siblings adore him, your mom is absolutely in love w him and your dad thinks he’s so eloquent and carries himself amazingly
he gets along so well with your whole family and has everyone at the table laughing with his stories and comments
when your mom sees the way he helps you with everything or how gentle he is with you she knows he’s gonna be the one you marry
the two of you watch the nightmare before Christmas all the time since you both love it so much
you sing along to every song and laugh as he stands on his tippy toes to try and imitate jack
for Christmas time you guys always try to see who will give the best gift
of course you love to see the lighting of the tree and so many snowball fights all the time
even more cuddling because oh my god it’s so cold all the time
timmy always knows exactly what to get you and he always writes you a letter which makes you cry
you also get him something meaningful and amazing which makes him tackle you with a hug and kiss you until you’re out of breath
the two of you are always so supportive of each other during anything and everything
timothée chalamet would be the worlds greatest boyfriend and you cannot tell me other wise
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myelocin · 4 years
Text
the most beautiful thing | hanamaki t.
synopsis: beautiful, hanamaki takahiro thinks, sees, and feels. in this home, within four walls, with you as his forever and his two children as the sun that shines soft on the vanilla skies he’s loved all his life.
characters: hanamaki takahiro, you (HMMMMMM), your two kids
genre: fluff, domestic!au, parenting!au
wc: 1600+
a/n: hei yes i am ok. i did not just type this in 20 minutes flat because i dreamt of this. i am ok. i swear. plz help. i love him so much. by hanamaki takahiro x reader,, i rlly mean hanamaki takahiro x nicole thank u. 
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beautiful, is the word that first flashes in hanamaki takahiro’s mind. 
bare foot against the dark stained wooden kitchen floors, your hair down and a little tangled against the white of his old shirt that fit you just comfortably. he thinks there’s hints of a vanilla sky outside. 
cotton candy pink, lilac, and just the right amounts of blue. he met you under a sky like today’s, he notes to himself with a smile. it’s a little past eight am, where on a normal day you’d be up two hours earlier; you, with a train to catch, and him with customers waiting in front of the shop. 
but the calendar says that today’s sunday. and sunday mornings, takahiro recalls you say, are days for family. 
and back then he remembers that he laughed at your little explanation, thinking that it was just a ploy to get him to stay in bed for a little while longer. back when it was just the two of you in the house above his flower shop. where sunday mornings meant the extra time in the mornings were reserved for morning sex and for talks about love and life alike as you settled in the afterglow. 
but sunday mornings now, he realizes, is this. 
it’s waking up with your side of the bed empty and coming into the kitchen with the smell of freshly brewed coffee in the air and the low sizzle of eggs frying in a pan. a little boy, with a head of strawberry brown hair peeking at him from his spot in the table, and his sweet, sweet ten month old baby girl sitting in her high chair with smeared baby food all over her mouth. 
takahiro’s heart swells, because he feels love—before he realizes that more than that, he feels a sense of home too. and even if the feeling had always settled in his chest years ago, it’s in the smallest most unexpected moments where he feels the world’s kindness remind him of its existence.
he knows he’s been in love and been at home when you said yes six years ago; a ring offered by his hands, trembling like the knee he’s leaned down on. then when you kissed him with tears in your eyes after telling him your “i do,” in a voice that assures him your love for him is as real and as raw as the kind he feels for you.
that same year too, when he held the keys to the flower shop he risked his—and frankly a little bit of your—life savings over. your hand, warm and steady against his that trembled with the same intensity from before as he pushed the key in the lock and opened the new chapter of your life together.
where a home, from that time, became the second floor of that same flower shop. photographs lined on the stairwell and a windowsill with the herbs he’s grown in memory of someone he knows you love dearly. where the polaroids you took with him over the years were first hung around the room with little pieces of string and handwritten notes beneath them, before later kept in glass frames and left by the fireplace for those who came to your little world and see.
then five years ago when he he saw the two little lines on a test you planned to keep a surprise for him but ultimately crying with him anyway, because if there was one thing your husband was never good at: it was knocking at the bathroom door before entering. but then again—if there was one thing you were also never good at, it was locking the door when you’re supposed to.
he laughs at the memory everytime because just like that he knows that you two just fit like that. he feels love and home again, as he thinks of your teary smile and the happy crack in your voice as you cried and told him you were going to be a family.
(he held you that night with tears in his own eyes, a few crumbs of fear settling in his heart, but anticipation for the universe’s blessings serving as the adrenaline rush he knew would last him for this lifetime and the next.)
and the rest, takahiro thinks to himself, comes to him in flashes.
the blessing of being able to feel love within home when he first held his son in his hands. the tell tale strawberry brown hair looking like a carbon copy of his own. the freckles across his cheeks that awfully look a lot like the ones he stares at in front of the mirror everyday. but the quirk of his lips looking like yours, because takahiro memorizes the contours of your smile like he knows his loved ones by name.
much like the smile he sees on your youngest daughter’s. where even at ten months old, he can already tell that she’s taking after you a lot more than him. it’s the smile, he recalls his mother tell him, when she first came into the world.
though really, takahiro thinks, it was the hue of her eyes when she first opened them. bright and sparkling as it told him the same sort of stories that you told him all those years ago.
stories about how in life, heartbreak is unavoidable.
how in life, there is as much pain that will be felt as there comes the happiness that lays either before or after it.
but also, as cruel as life is—it can also be so, so kind. the kind of kindness that has you forgetting all the bad that you’ve trudged through, because when you ride that sort of high that life gives you—it truly feels like you’ll soar for eternities that are here and the ones that have still yet to come.
takahiro feels that; every day.
“papa,” he hears. “breakfast!” his son calls.
and so he pushes himself off of the doorframe as he first walks towards you, a kiss pressed to your cheek as the smell of day old roses and rosemary lingers—making you smile.
and as the word beautiful, flashes in his mind for the second time that morning—he knows it isn’t meant for the vanilla skies that swirl slowly outside the kitchen windows. it’s the way you look when you take a seat across him and smile, sipping your cold tea and sighing as if all the world’s problems are rolling right off your shoulders.
the ring, on your left hand’s fourth finger catches the light when you raise the spoon by your daughter’s mouth; golden like the picture frame hanging above fireplace in the living room, with four smiling faces instead of just the two from the polaroids before.
beautiful, life really can be even without the vanilla skies because he knows he has the best that life could ever offer right here. in this little room, the world in his hands, and the promise of heaven’s grace clear as day right in front of his eyes.
“papa,” he hears his eldest call again. takahiro takes a slow sip of his coffee before he turns to his son and smiles. “yep?”
“how do you spell your name?”
your husband doesn’t catch it when you smile, already knowing what he’s about to ask. letting your husband bask in the moment, you turn to face your ten month old daughter who stares back at you with eyes and face identical to your own. she was a messy eater, you observe with a chuckle. she took after her father in the little ways, you suppose.
and she always, always looked the most beautiful around flowers too. the polaroid of her sitting in the counter, next to a handful of roses was the photo she smiled at the widest. under the vanilla skies in that morning you think about how takahiro looks like a different sort of radiant around the flowers too.
“what’s it for?” you hear your husband ask, voice still a little scratchy from sleep.
“it’s for this!” your five year old beams.
takahiro stares at the paper he could only guess is his homework. his last name written next to your son’s giving name, erased pencil marks over his mistake still a little evident on the paper. he smiles as he reads through the little questionnaire, but pauses as he gets to the last part.
“who do you want to be like when you grow up?” it reads, a blank line next to it.
a familiar, welcome feeling thrums in takahiro’s chest again, so he thinks of the word beautiful once more. because life, he thinks, has never been more beautiful than how it looks in this morning.
“papa your naaaaaame.”
he swears that ever since he met you, he falls in love with life more and more every day.  
(he cries to you later that night as he closes the flower shop downstairs for the day. red eyes, and a happy smile in place. you kiss his cheeks and tell him he deserves happiness every day.)
(your son’s homework and doodle of your family next to another one of flowers and rosemarys with a little cross above it is pinned on the fridge later that night.)
you fall asleep with his arms around yours, your kids asleep in the room next to yours.
this, you smile. this is the beautiful part of life.
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a/n: rosemary is the herb my mom had on her windowsill. she died before she could plant her herb garden. i always think that makki likes to keep a herb garden so he could feel close to my mom in a way : - )  
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iamnightduchess · 4 years
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Hi Queen! May I ask for some of your dad Reiner headcanons? 💖💖💖
Hello my dear! Thank you so much for the Ask 💖 Oh we're definitely going to be seeing Reiner in Dad!Mode in SnK Final Season Ep.2 (Midnight Train) tonight.
Dad!Reiner Headcanons (Modern AU)
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The moment Reiner finds out his S/O is expecting his baby, the first thing he'll do is grab her into his embrace, give her a kiss on the forehead & say 'Thank you. '
The next thing he'll do is send a screenshot of the ultrasound to his bros groupchat, typing "WHO'S GONNA BE A DADDY? I AM, BROS!" in capital letters.
Reiner is the dad who cries the first time he hears the baby's heartbeat at 7 weeks ❤️
Reiner is without a doubt the hands-on dad - diaper changes, feedings, play time & bath times, you name it!
He's the dad who laughs when the baby barfed while he's trying to get the baby to burp.
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Reiner will be the work-at-home dad who makes sure his kids get home-cooked meals all the time.
Reiner sometimes jokingly texts updates about their kids to his S/O with the line: "Look what our spawn did today at school!" Or "I'm so proud of the fruit of my loins".
Reiner makes shopping trips an adventure. Without fail. Every time.
He is the one who schedules all the kids' doctor's appointments - vaccinations & checkups.
Reiner makes babywearing the sexiest accessory ever.
Reiner would be the one who is present at all of his kids' activities - piano recital, ballet classes, soccer practices. He's the resident eye candy for other moms.
He's a volunteer coach at his kids' sports activities.
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This man gives the best head pats ever & can even get the most quiet kid to warm up to him instantly.
He is a pro at braiding hairs & taking care of boo boos.
He's the coolest, fun & most popular dad in school. All of his kids' friends loves Mr. Braun.
He's the dad that enjoys hosting pizza sleepover parties for his kids. Also, the dad that pranks his kids. A lot.
A strict but understanding dad. He's a good listener & gives objective advices to his kids.
When the kids ever tried to pull an attitude with his S/O, Reiner would be saying, "Your mother is a Queen. She deserves nothing but your respect!"
He's the dad that make lame dad jokes after crisis aversions to cheer his kids up.
Contingency is this man's strong suit. So what if the camping trip turned out disastrous due to the weather? It's time to take a detour at sunny beach instead! You can always count on this man to turn his kids' frowns into smiles again.
Reiner always hosts play dates for his kids with his bros' own brood. Game time for the kids & the dads! He likes to give treats to his bros' kids.
Reiner is the dad that will record all of his kids events & birthdays and turn them into home movies.
He didn't grow up with a father & that is why he takes being a father damn seriously.
You can see Reiner makes cameos in his kids' snapchat/tiktok/socmed videos 😂
Reiner is the dad who would be crying when he walks his daughter down the aisle for her wedding. Will love his son-in-law like his own.
His kids would be his lifetime's greatest achievement & he's proud of his children.
I had fun, dear! Thank you so much for the Ask 💖 The world needs more of Dad!Reiner 💪
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Text
headcanons cause i’m in flarrie hours
they are THE couple when it comes to halloween costumes
all their outfits for big events (parties, gigs where dirty candy and/or jatp perform) are coordinated
carrie my femme queen & flynn my nonbinary lesbian darling
go to protests & marches together
flynn lends carrie books by her favorite Black female authors & carrie lends her books by her favorite sapphic poets
they make playlists about each other but the other doesn’t know they do it (julie & kayla are the only ones permitted to know of the existence of these playlists & have been sworn to secrecy, though julie has a strong suspicion carrie also makes playlists about flynn and vice versa)
have a joint pinterest account for their wedding moodboard
carrie adopted a tiger cub and named it flynn for their three month anniversary
they go to the mall together every other weekend and shop, which they both love to do and when they get home they always model the new outfits they bought
flynn squeals every time they see a dog in public and always runs over and asks if they can pet it and carrie always watches her with such a fond look that the owner almost always makes a comment on what a lovely couple they are or asks how long they’ve been together (something that has actually been happening since even before they were dating, and back then you can imagine the flustered ness it caused)
flynn often comes to watch dirty candy rehearsals, cheer them on, make sure they’re staying hydrated/taking snack breaks and that carrie’s not overworking herself
carrie is the first person that flynn tells she wants to DJ professionally and carrie gets her her first gig
eventually flynn gets into producing as well and ends up making a track for carrie, who writes lyrics to it and it becomes dirty candy’s most successful song to date
carrie says i love you first one saturday afternoon while they’re watching a movie on flynn’s computer in her room. flynn laughs at a joke and carrie looks over at her, her beautiful, incredible girlfriend, and simply can’t resist the urge to say it
flynn’s shocked into silence so carrie panics and leaves and doesn’t answer flynn’s messages
that night flynn shows up at the wilson mansion and throws rocks at carrie’s window until she comes out
flynn is upset with carrie for running out and ghosting her and carrie’s trying to defend herself so they argue but then flynn interrupts carrie by kissing her and breathlessly saying, “i love you.” carrie kisses her and not another word on it is said
carrie steals flynn’s hats
they’re not really PDA-y, they just happen to engage in a lot of unconscious, casual affection, like flynn often absentmindedly intertwines their pinkies and carrie doesn’t realize her arm is around flynn’s shoulders until she’s doing it
even after months of dating will still flirt like they’re in their enemies who are secretly very attracted to e/o era
flynn really loves art, particularly murals, so she drags carrie to a lot of gallery openings and museums
at one point when flynn’s going through a hard time carrie enlists all their friends for help making a giant mural full of drawings of things that make her happy
flynn happy cries when she sees it and is pretty much always seen hugging carrie for the rest of that night
only really cuddle when one (or both) of them is sleepy, though flynn does often sit on carrie’s lap
before starting to date, carrie would tease flynn for having stuffed animals during their sleepovers at flynn’s until they started dating and flynn started spending more time at carrie’s and flynn discovers that her girlfriend’s a little hypocrite
flynn has a younger sister and brother (sister is six, brother is four) and they absolutely ADORE carrie and think she’s the coolest and carrie thinks they’re the cutest
flynn’s like no they’re little demons and carrie’s says who says demons can’t be cute? you once called me a demon right, and im cute, aren’t i? and flynn rolls her eyes and fights back a smile
flynn also has a college aged older sister who she looks up to a lot, like that’s her hero and absolute role model, so naturally carrie’s terrified to meet her, and though she tries to appear intimidating at first, she can’t keep up the act for long and starts being friendly with carrie pretty much right away
one day they’re supposed to go on a date but carrie’s sick and forgot to text flynn telling her not to come so flynn shows up at her house but stays anyway to look after her
flynn reads to her and makes her soup
trevor & flynn play video games while carrie naps
flynn makes jewelry in her free time and consults carrie for her thoughts on every piece (in junior year she starts selling them at school & turns out to be quite the entrepreneur)
they have an inside joke about cosmo and wanda
a couple of the dirty candy members sometimes jokingly flirt with flynn and are like “watch out! we’re gonna steal your girl!” and carrie gets possessive and apologizes for it pretty quickly but flynn thinks it’s hot so it works out pretty well
will watch bad rom coms to make fun of straight people and throw popcorn at the screen when they get together
pet/nick names: care, baby, babe, love, (from carrie to flynn who shuts down upon hearing it) honey, (flynn to carrie, who becomes very giddy the first time flynn says it in a text message) sweetheart
if you couldn’t tell before they ofc have an enemies to friends to lovers arc
move in together after graduating, neither planning on going to college (julie goes to berkeley and nick some other place in california where they have lacrosse cause that’s the sport he plays right) and their parents think it’ll be a disaster but it actually goes really well
the first couple of weeks they fight more, all petty arguments mostly out of the stress of moving, but they always talk it out
it doesn’t take long for them to be happy they’re living together and feel really glad they took that step
two years after graduating flynn gives her a promise ring
carrie cries her eyes out and replies “of fucking course, you dumb fuck” when flynn asks if she’ll take it
ten years later carrie’s a successful pop star/choreographer & flynn’s a record breaking producer/DJ and they’re about to buy a house when they realize they never got married
it’s just a moment where they’re relaxing together on the couch and suddenly are like. oh
and proceed to burst out laughing
it’s a small ceremony, thrown together in just three weeks
carrie wears a short, light pink dress with a heart cutout in the back that would probably be more suited for a high school sophomore’s spring fling but no one cares
flynn wears a suit, and is walked down the aisle by her older sister
they both tear up upon seeing each other and sob through the vows (the traditional pre written ones, they wrote vows for each other but they recite them to the other when they’re alone, so it’s something special only they can share)
julie & kayla are the maids of honor, nick and alex are the best men
julie & luke’s five year old hernando is the ring bearer & alex and willie’s three year old umi is the flower child
trevor, flynn’s older sister and parents cry
even flynn’s now teenage younger siblings, who as of late have often been stereotypically cynical and moody shed tears
jatp perform at the reception (they have also become a hit band at this point)
when they get back from the honeymoon the first thing they do is get a dog
they adopt a golden doodle rescue named stella
a couple years later they start talking about kids and look into getting a sperm donor
because they love being competitive they do little games to decide who will be the one to carry the baby
it’s all jokes though, they decided at the start of the process that it would be flynn for the first kid and carrie for the second
but then SURPRISE flynn has twins
a boy and a girl named tyler and ollie (who’s who i won’t tell you cause fuck gender)
they don’t even talk about carrie getting pregnant now cause they’re busy with the babies and trying to manage their careers but one night, when the kids are eight, and flynn has just flopped onto the couch with a dramatic sigh after putting them to bed, carrie puts down her kindle and quietly says that she wants another kid.
they talk for hours because while flynn wants another kid too, when you’re both celebrities with demanding jobs and people constantly trying to peer into your life, that decision involves even more factors
they decide to have another kid and carrie chooses to take a step back from her career for now-she’ll return to it eventually but for now she wants to be able to just be a parent without worrying about work and not have to deal with the guilt that comes with working when she feels like she should be being a parent
though the kids have always been their main priority and they have done quite well dividing their time between work and being with them, and have done decently shielding them from the public eye (majority of the pictures of ollie & tyler that the public has are blurry candids, and the few high quality ones are from when they were three and they no longer look like that anyway so it’s all good)
it’s a harder process for carrie to get pregnant as she’s almost 40 and flynn was 31 when she had tyler and ollie
but it happens though they’re careful about choosing the sperm donor-even briefly consider asking reggie or nick-because with this kind of thing there’s always the risk that other parent could track down where their kid ended up and want to be a part of that kid’s life later on which is uber complicated for many reasons so they get those scary possibilities out of the way by just finding someone who they know wants to be in the child’s life
preston choi, a thai & korean american mathematics professor ends up being their guy
he’s immensely genuine, sweet, respectful, polite, and gentlemanly
when he came out at fifteen his parents kicked him out of the house
it was a long and difficult journey but they’re in a decent place now
but it’s not the family he wants to have and he’s tried but has yet to find a partner
but doesn’t want to wait to have kids so here he is, more than happy to co parent with flynn and carrie
so that’s what they do! tyler and ollie become big siblings to miles wilson-choi on december 10th, 2044
miles grows up in the most multicultural home ever, being fluent in 4 languages (English, AAVE, Spanish thanks to their tia julie, Korean, and Thai) all their life
tyler & ollie welcome preston and miles into the family with open arms, as well as the addition of korean and thai cuisine to the already amazing dinner tables they had of soul and caribbean food
when miles is seven carrie goes back to work full time, with preston’s assurance that he’s got this when her and flynn are busy and tyler and ollie (who are now fifteen) promising they’ll help out as well
at that point the long awaited julie and the phantoms/carrie and flynn wilson collaboration FINALLY happens
flynn wins her 28th grammy for it, leaving her tied with beyoncé for most grammys won by any woman ever (its julie’s 14th, luke’s 6th, and carrie’s 12th, and the band’s collective 10th cause alex never did any solo projects and reggie released one country album but it didn’t win any grammys rip though it was nominated for 2 CMAs)
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