#can't wait to see what this comes up with
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Which Boyfriend Calls Back First?
Pairing: Frontman/Hwang In-Ho x Fem!Reader
Summary: You and your friends test your boyfriends' responsiveness with a playful TikTok challenge, and naturally, your devoted boyfriend In-ho is the first to call back.
Warnings: Fluff, Cute!inho, Clingy!Inho, Protective!Inho.
Word count: 1k
You and your four friends—Yuri, May, Chaein, and Hayoung—gather around the dining table, each of you armed with your smartphones. The room buzzes with a mix of excitement and nervous laughter as you all prepare to join the latest TikTok trend: determining which of your boyfriends will respond the fastest to a missed call.
"Okay, ladies, are we ready?" Yuri asks, her eyes twinkling with mischief.
"Ready!" everyone chimes in unison.
You steal a glance at your friends, feeling the collective anticipation building up. "Alright, on the count of three: one, two, three!" you call out.
You all dial your respective partners simultaneously and then quickly hang up, creating what’s known as a "flash" call. The five of you place your phones back on the table, the screens facing up, and exchange amused and curious glances, eager to see which boyfriend will react first.
May leans back in her chair, crossing her arms with a smirk. "I bet Mark will call me back first. He's always so quick to respond."
Chaein laughs, shaking her head. "Oh please, Sunoo is definitely the fastest. Just wait and see."
You feel a familiar flutter of excitement as you look at your phone, fully confident in In-ho’s attentiveness. "Well, let’s just see about that," you say, grinning.
"Honestly, In-ho will probably call back first because he's so obsessed with Y/N. I mean, I'm surprised he even let her come out tonight," Yuri jokes with a knowing smile.
It was no exaggeration; you and In-ho were practically inseparable. He despised being apart from you and would become upset if you were away for even a few hours. Heading out tonight to spend time with your friends had been an uphill battle, as he did everything he could to persuade you to stay with him instead. His unwavering devotion and the way he always wanted to be near you were endearing, adding a touch of romance to your relationship that made your bond even stronger.
Within moments, your phone lights up and starts ringing. The screen displays In-ho's name, and your heart does a little flip. You catch the surprised looks from your friends and can't help but laugh.
"Damn, In-ho’s fast!" Hayoung exclaims, genuinely impressed.
You pick up your phone, feeling a surge of warmth. "Hello?" you answer, trying to suppress a giggle.
"Is everything okay?" In-ho’s voice comes through, filled with concern.
"Everything's fine, love. It was just a little game we were playing," you say, your voice softening.
In-ho is renowned for his authoritative role and his emotionally guarded demeanor, but in moments like these, the depth of his love for you becomes undeniably clear. Despite the demands of his position as the Front Man, where he commands control and garners respect from everyone around him, you are the exception to his rigid exterior. Even amidst his busy schedule, he always ensures to carve out time for you, willing to drop anything at a moment's notice just to be by your side.
The room fills with light-hearted groans and chuckles as your friends mock-complain about losing the lighthearted competition. "Looks like Y/N's the winner," Yuri concedes with a playful pout.
You walk into another room, still on the phone with your love. In-ho's concern is palpable, yet there's a gentle humor in his voice as he says, "I could hear those groans and laughs—sounds lively over there."
"It's definitely lively," you reply, a soft laugh escaping. "We're just caught up in a silly game right now. But everything's all good, nothing to worry about."
There’s a brief pause, and you can imagine him thoughtfully staring into the distance, just as he often does.
"Are you having fun?" he asks, his tone lightening.
You smile, "Yeah, it's a lot of fun. We're all really into these goofy challenges."
"Good," In-ho replies, a warm undertone in his voice. "Do you need me to pick up anything from the store before you come back home?"
You think for a moment and then smile. "Actually, could you grab some snacks for later? You know, our usuals."
"Consider it done," he says with a hint of amusement in his voice. "Anything else?"
"No, that should be it. Thanks, love," you say, feeling grateful for his thoughtfulness. "Just get yourself home safely."
"I will," he promises. "I miss you."
Your heart swells at his simple admission. "I miss you too," you reply softly. "I'll see you soon."
As you hang up, your thoughts wander to the unique dynamic of your relationship with In-ho. You know that most people would probably find having a clingy, overprotective boyfriend suffocating or annoying. They might complain about the constant check-ins or the way he always wants to know you're safe. But for you, it's different. His attentiveness and concern are like a warm blanket on a cold night—they wrap you in a sense of comfort and security that you've come to cherish deeply.
You love how every call, every message from him is a small reminder that you are loved and valued. In a world that often feels chaotic and unpredictable, his protective nature provides a reassuring constant. In-ho has a way of making you feel like you are the most important person in his world, and it's a feeling you wouldn't trade for anything.
Your mind drifts back to a conversation you had with him not long ago. He had confessed that he had never been this way with anyone before. "I've never felt the need to be so protective," he had admitted, his voice soft but sincere. "But with you, I just want to make sure you're always okay."
His words had struck a chord deep within you. Knowing that his behavior wasn't a default setting but something unique to your relationship made you appreciate it even more. It was as if you had unlocked a part of him that had remained hidden until you came into his life.
Rejoining your friends, you can't help but smile, the warmth of In-ho's recent call lingering like a tender embrace. The noise and laughter around you feel a bit more vibrant, the evening a bit more enjoyable, all because of the love and devotion you know is waiting for you at home.
#hwang in ho#hwang inho#frontman x reader#frontman x you#hwang inho x reader#001 x you#in ho#in ho x reader#lee byung hun#squid game#squid game fanfic#squid game 001#inho x reader#hwang inho x you#inho x you#in ho x you#hwang in ho x reader#the front man#the frontman#frontman#inho#001 x reader
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Drunk Confessions
Summary: You got drunk during a night out with your best friend and accidentally send your Professor a photo of you in lingerie. Now you try to avoid him, which is not really working.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader
Category: Smut (18+ MDNI)
Warnings: alcohol consumption, dirty talk, dom!spencer, semi-public sex, hair pulling, thigh riding, spanking, fingering, praise kink, multiple orgasms, oral sex (kinda, he comes in her mouth)
Word Count: 4,6k
Author’s Note: My last posts got so many likes, I didn’t expect that at all, thank you sm!! <3
Your alarm goes off - 8:30am. You groan. Your head is pounding and the sun shining into your room is just way too bright. Your stomach turns and you close your eyes to escape the wave of nausea. You slowly sit up and search for your phone on the nightstand. It feels like your head is going to explode. You reach out and unlock the screen, turning your alarm off.
It's way too early. And you drunk way too much last night. It was a chaotic but nice yesterday, a night full of laughter, way too much alcohol and karaoke. Your best friend celebrated her birthday and you promised to go to your favorite bar with her. You have to smile when you think back to the night and start checking your messages. You see that she already texted you this morning to find out how you are doing.
How are you?
I have the worst headache after last night
It was fun though, wanna go again tonight?
Just kidding, I feel like I need a week to recover from this
You can’t help but laugh and answer her quickly. You are about to put your phone away to finally get ready when a new chat catches your eye. You freeze in shock. It’s your Professors name. The one you’ve been crushing on since you saw him for the very first time.
Back when you found out that you were getting a new professor, you didn't expect much, a lecture like any other with someone who was only concerned with reciting his material. But then he entered. He came through the door and for a moment it seemed as if time stood still. The room, which had just been immersed in the murmur of conversation, suddenly became silent.
He was tall - taller than you expected and his presence filled the room in a way that you couldn't put into words. He wore a simple but elegant suit that somehow effortlessly fit him perfectly. His hair was a little longer, curly and fell slightly over his forehead. And then he looked up. His big, brown eyes met yours and in a split second everything became clear to you. You immediately knew you wanted, needed, this man.
Now you stare at the chat in complete horror. He recently gave you his number for a project. That's how this whole texting thing could even happen. Your heart is pounding in your chest. Obviously you can't remember texting him. You were so drunk yesterday that you can't even remember how you got home.
You open the chat - and your heart stops for a moment. It wasn't just a message that you sent him. It was a photo. Of you, in lingerie. It’s one of your favorite sets, you got it a couple of weeks ago. "I wore this for you today, Professor. Do you like it?” You wrote in addition to the photo.
Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. You just stare at the screen, the picture of you that you should never, ever, ever have sent. And the worst part: He read it. But didn't reply. Confusion and panic spreads through you. You jump out of bed, your feet barely finding purchase on the floor, and your heart keeps racing. You try to think clearly, but your thoughts are a complete mess.
You reach for your phone again and frantically tap on the chat with your best friend, but you pause and call her instead. "Hello?" Her voice still sounds sleepy and hungover. “Oh my God, I need your help!" you gasp and immediately start telling her everything.
The line is silent, then you hear a short laugh. "Wait a minute... what? You did that?" You close your eyes and search for the right words. But before you can say anything, it hits you like a blow. You also have a lecture with him today.
"I’m not coming today," you tell her. “You can't just cancel!" she says immediately, and you hear her getting herself settled in her bed. Her voice sounds determined, but also worried. "You know how it is, our seminar today. We can't miss it. We said that celebrating wouldn't stop us," she says. "Celebrating isn't what would stop me either. Seeing him definitely is," you say and lean back with a groan.
You close your eyes and sink even deeper into the pillows. Your stomach clenches when you think about it. She’s right, You really have to go today. But the text, the picture that you sent him - what if he wants to talk to you about it? Or worse, he reports the whole thing?
"I can't just sit in front of him today and pretend that everything is normal. I sent him a picture of me in lingerie... I can't face him. It's just... it's just too much!" There is silence on the other end of the line for a moment. She still hasn't said anything, and you know she's thinking. Then you hear her take a deep breath.
“Okay, the thing with the picture, that's really... a little crazy. But hey, you can skip the lecture. Just disappear after the seminar and then hide in your apartment. Or you can go and hope that when you run into him, he'll do completely different things after you seeing this photo. I bet you looked hot, was it the new set you recently bought?” she asks and you can hear her grin even though you're on the phone.
Obviously she knows about your crush on your professor. You couldn’t stop talking about him after your first lecture and she took every opportunity to tease you about it. You look at your phone as if it were the only thing that could help you think clearly. Of course she's right. You have to go to your seminar. And you can really skip his lecture. Still, the idea that he might be thinking about it makes your heart beat faster and not just in excitement.
“You're right, I... okay, I'll come," You say after a short pause, but the thought of maybe running into him still makes you nervous. “You'll see, it won't be as bad as you think. You'll get through the seminar, it's only an hour. And then we'll be out and we can take our time for everything else. And you'll just avoid your favorite professor today," she continues to teases.
“Today? More like forever," you mutter and finally get up, even though the thought of getting out of bed still paralyzes you. “See you soon then. I'll shower and get dressed now, then I'll come. Let’s meet outside the building, okay?" you ask. "Sure!" she calls out happily. "See you soon and don’t forget to wear another fancy set for your professor today. Just in case you run into him,” she jokes.
After you hang up you put the phone on the pillow and stand there for a moment, your legs heavy, your head still about to explode. But then you take a deep breath. It'll be fine, you just have get through the seminar. With a sigh, you go into the bathroom and take painkillers first. Then you start getting ready.
You turn on the water and let it run hot. A short time later, you go into the shower. The hot steam envelops you and slowly your body feels a little alive again. The nausea subsides and the hangover becomes more bearable. After the shower, you get dressed in peace - black skirt, a comfy sweater and your favorite sneakers. You quickly walk through the apartment again to make sure you packed everything and when you leave the house, you somehow feel less like a wreck.
-
The smell of freshly served pasta is still in your nose as you say goodbye. You got lunch together after your seminar and it was nice to get a little break and talk about everything that happened. Now you are ready to leave but you still have to go to the library to get a book that you need for your upcoming assignment first.
“I still have to go to the library," you tell her, pulling your bag over your shoulder. “Are you coming with me?” you ask her. “I’m sorry, I have to pick up my sister now. But be careful, you don’t want to run into your favorite professor, or do you?” she teases again. “I’m not going to run into him. I’ll hurry up and leave immediately. I’ll call you later. See you tomorrow," you say and give her a quick wave before you set off.
-
The campus is full of students rushing through the halls, carrying their books around or sitting in groups and discussing. You slip into the library and head straight to the section where the book you need is. Unfortunately it’s at the top of the shelf and you realize that you probably won't be able to reach it. You jump up a few times, but the distance between you and the book just seems too big. You sigh. If only you were a little taller.
As you attempt the jump for the third time, you suddenly feel a presence building behind you. One that seems familiar. Your heart beats faster and a nervous tremor takes hold of you. You turn around and stare straight into Professor Reid's eyes. He is standing just inches away from you and you can hear the soft sound of his breathing.
The look he gives you is almost piercing - warm, but somehow also searching. He leans forward slightly without saying a word and effortlessly grabs the book with one hand. You avoid his gaze as he hands it to you. “Thank you," you murmur, trying to hide the slight nervous tremor in your voice. He nods and stands still for a moment.
"You weren't at my lecture today." You stare at the book in your hands and feel your stomach clench. This is not good. “I..." you take a deep breath. "I haven't been feeling so good. My head..." He waits, his eyes still fixed on you, and you get the feeling that he wants to hear more. You feel his gaze on you and when you finally raise your eyes to look into his eyes, there is a silent understanding, and for a moment you wonder if there’s more. “Sick, or...?" he asks calmly. You hesitate and bite your lip.
"I went out partying with my best friend yesterday, it was her birthday… we drank a little bit too much and... well, I'm not feeling so good today. That’s why I skipped." His expression remains neutral, but something in his gaze changes. You can hardly believe it, but it's almost as if he's interested. He frowns slightly. "I understand," he then says. "But it's not ideal to miss class, especially when important topics are involved."
You nod. “I know, Professor. I won’t happen again.” You just want to get out of this situation, and as you try to take a step back he stops you. "No, wait. I need to talk to you." You pause and turn back to him. "About what? I don’t really have the time -" you begin, pretending you don't have any idea what he wants to talk about, when he cuts you off.
"Doesn’t matter, it’s important. We'll sort it out in my office." His gaze is intense as he steps towards you. The thought of him asking you to come to his office makes your heart beat faster. The idea of being alone in a room with him is tempting. "Okay," you say quietly, unable to prevent a nervous tingling from spreading in your chest. You follow him, even though your legs feel like they're made of jelly.
He leads the way, his steps calm and determined, and you can barely keep your eyes from lingering on his back. As soon as you reach the door to his office, he opens it and lets you enter first. You step in, your heart now beating loudly in your ears. The moment he closes the door behind you, you realize that it is more than just a conversation about the seminar.
The look he is giving you now is not the look of a professor. It is the look of a man who wants more than just academic discussions at this moment. And the thought that you’re alone with him in this room inevitably leaves you nervous and intrigued at the same time.
As the door closes behind you, you’re left breathless for a moment. His office is quiet, almost too quiet, compared to the crowded hallways outside. The room is sparsely decorated, except for the desk covered with stacks of paper and a few personal items. He is still standing at the table, his arms loosely folded in front of his chest and looks at you.
"Sit down," he says calmly, pointing to the chair on the opposite of the desk. You hesitate, then finally sit down, your heart pounding in your chest. The nervous energy inside you grows as you try to organize your thoughts. Before he can say anything else, you can’t hold it back any longer. The words come out of you hastily, almost in a rush, and you feel your body tense.
"The picture, it was a mistake! I didn't mean to... It wasn't meant for you. I was drunk, and it was stupid of me, really. I'm sorry." You look at the table, avoiding his gaze. But as you say the last words, you immediately notice how the atmosphere in the room changes. He remains silent for a moment, but then his body language shifts slightly - his gaze becomes more intense, the tension between you almost tangible.
"Hmm," he says after a pause, his voice deep and calm, "so the picture wasn't meant for me?" You flinch when you hear his question. What exactly does he want to hear? What does he want to know from you? You try to stay calm and answer hesitantly.
"It... it's none of your business." His expression hardens instantly. "It is," he says, and his voice sounds sharper, more determined now. "Because you sent it to me." Your heart beats faster as he continues. "I don't think it was an accident, even if you were drunk. You wanted to send it to me. And you did."
A cold shiver runs down your spine. You open your mouth, trying to say something, but you can't find a way to defend yourself. Instead, you just stay still, looking at your hands, which are resting nervously on your lap.
He laughs quietly, a mocking, almost challenging laugh. "So you're really sure it was an accident, huh?" He slowly leans forward, rests his hands on the table and looks straight into your eyes. The look in his eyes has changed, and something in his expression shows you that he is the one in control.
"Do you really think I haven't noticed how you look at me in class? How you keep watching my hands? How you press your thighs together when I approach you?" His words hit you and you freeze for a moment. Your cheeks burn hot, you feel your heart pounding uncontrollably, but you keep quiet. Everything inside you screams to defend yourself, but you stay silent because you know he’s right.
"I noticed from the beginning, angel," he continues, and a shiver runs down your spine. You can’t believe he just called you that. It turns you on immensely. "I know you didn't just do it because of the party and the alcohol. You also sent it to me because you wanted to." He leans further forward, his presence overwhelming, and you can't help but feel small even as you try to assert yourself.
You open your mouth to say something, but the words stick in your throat. What could you say? That he's wrong? That would be a lie. “You sent it to me," he repeats, his voice now almost like a command. "Because you wanted to show me. And I don't think it was an accident. You were drunk, yes, but you wanted me to see you like this."
Your body is paralyzed. It feels like the room has suddenly become smaller. You can hardly breathe. His words and his look have completely captured you in that moment. “I... uh," you begin, but the thought that he is in control, that he sees you like this at this moment, leaves you speechless and you’re unable form a proper sentence.
He remains silent, only his eyes continue to focus on you. "You have to understand that you can't just play with me like that." His gaze becomes more intense, and for a moment it seems as if he wants to say more but then he slowly stands up, walks around the table and stops right in front of you.
"I'll show you something," he says in a calm but unmistakable voice. "And you will understand why it wasn't just an accident." Your heart beats faster. His hand reaches for your chin, lifting it up and tracing his thumb over your bottom lip. Your breath hitches and you lean closer, craving his touch. “Get up and lock the door for me,” he says and pulls his hand away slowly.
You do as your told immediately and when you turn around, he is sitting on his chair with his legs spread. He looks so hot and you desperately clench your thighs together to relief the pressure between your legs. “Good girl. Come here,” he says and pats his thigh. You shiver in excitement and when he notices a grin spreads across his face.
You go over to him and when you stand in front of him, he pulls you down into his lap. He leans forward to whisper into your ear “That’s what you wanted, right? To be my good girl. That’s why you send me that picture. You wanted to end up here,” he says and places his hands on your hips. You press yourself closer against him and inhale his scent, he smells like cinnamon, peppermint and aftershave, it’s addictive.
However, you get interrupt by his hand reaching into your hair to pull your head back. You gasp in surprise and he leans closer to you, looking deep into your eyes again. “I asked you a question. I expect an answer,” he says and you can feel yourself getting even wetter. “Yes, that’s true. I - I always wanted that,” you manage to say and he releases your hair, satisfied with your response.
Then he leans forward and you finally feel his lips against yours. It’s even better than you always imagined and you start to grind against his leg, desperate to release the friction between your legs. But Spencer quickly stops you. “Did I allow you to move?” he asks and you shake your head.
He sighs in disappointment but before he can say anything you quickly answer him. “No, you didn’t,” you say and his grip on your hips looses a little. “That’s right. I didn’t. And you’re not allowed to move until I tell you to. You’re going to listen to me and do exactly what your told, do you understand?” he asks. “I understand.”
“See, it’s not that hard. You listen to me, you behave and you’ll get your reward. Now, do you want to ride my thigh?” he asks, his hand slowly sliding behind your back to your ass, squeezing it. “Yes, please. Can I?” you ask and he leans forward to kiss you again, his tongue exploring your mouth. When he pulls back you can see his eyes sparkling with lust. “So polite, I like that. Yes, you can,” he says and you finally go back to moving against his thigh.
It feels good, so good and when Spencer starts to slide one hand under your shirt to grab your breasts you press closer against him. You can feel that you soaked your underwear trough and wearing only a skirt, you can already see a small wet stain on his pants. His gaze follows yours and he chuckles. “Someone’s needy,” he says and you nod, leaning against his chest, grinding down more against him.
“Spen - Spencer, I’m going to come,” you whimper but he pulls you back by your hair again. “It’s Sir for you, angel,” he says and you correct yourself immediately. “Please Sir, can I come on your thigh now?” you breath out and he grabs your hips again, stopping you.
“No, not yet,” he simply says and you whine when he stands up and you lose contact. “But I thought - “ you start but he doesn’t let you finish. He turns you around and pushes you down onto his desk. “Doesn’t matter what you thought. I decided I’m not letting you come yet,” he says and flips over your skirt to expose your underwear to him.
“I see, another pair then the ones you wore yesterday. I’ve got to admit, I prefer the other ones, but you look pretty anyway, angel,” he says, sliding his hands over your thighs and your ass. “Last night when you send me that picture, I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he admits and you can feel your whole body reacting to his words.
A wave of confidence flashes through you. “Did I keep you up last night, Sir? Did you have to stroke your cock while you looked at my picture? Thinking about all the ways you want to fuck me?” you ask him and turn your head slightly back to look at him with a smirk on your face. His eyes darken and he tightens his grip.
“Oh you have no idea, angel. I’m going to show you exactly what I was thinking about last night,” And suddenly you feel a harsh smack on your ass. He just spanked you. And you liked it. Your breath hitches and you bit down on your lip to keep quiet. You don’t want anyone to find out what’s going on in here.
His hand strokes the spot he just hit before going further down to pull at your panties. He takes them off and stuffs them into his pocket. You are convinced you’re not going to get them back. Then you feel his long, slender fingers sliding between your legs before he presses onto your clit. You gasp in surprise and try to press against him but his grip on your hips is firm, holding you still.
Then he pushes two fingers inside you. “So fucking wet.” His eyes wander over your body down to your legs hungrily, appreciating every curve and every spot. “I’ve never seen such a pretty pussy. And it’s all mine now. You’re all mine now,” he says. The way his fingers move and the way he stares at you intensely feels just way too good.
When his thumb goes back to your clit, rubbing it in slow circles, you can feel how your orgasm builds up inside of you and you can no longer hold back your moans. “Spencer - Sir, feels so good. Please,… I need more,” You clench around his fingers and he quickly puts a hand over your mouth to keep you quiet. “Shh, be quiet, angel. As much as I would love to hear all these lovely sounds you make, I don’t want to get interrupted. Not now, when I finally have you, after all this time.”
His fingers curl inside you and keep hitting your g -spot. You clench around them, he notices and chuckles. “Can I - please,” you stutter. “Yes angel,” he says, already knowing what you’re asking for and you come around his fingers. You never had such an intense orgasm from foreplay before, but you don’t mind. It’s even better than you always imagined.
He wants to give you a moment to recover but you want more. You somehow manage to turn around, even though your legs feel like they are going to give in any second and push yourself up on his desk. He looks surprised and opens his mouth to say something but you interrupt him by pulling him closer by his tie.
You wrap your hands around his neck and rank your fingers through his soft, brown hair before kissing him. You moan into his mouth and he groans, sending a shiver down your spine. “Thank you, Sir. That was amazing,” you say with a smirk on your face when you pull back. “Now is the time to lose your pants and relax, I want to return the favor.”
“As much as I want to see you down on your knees with your pretty lips wrapped around my cock, we don’t have much time left. Office hour starts in less than 30 minutes. And I need to fuck you. So drop it and spread your legs for me. Now,” he demands and you obliged, sitting further back on his desk with your legs spread.
He takes a step back and starts to unzip his dress pants. When he takes out his cock your eyes widen. He is even bigger than you expected. “Are you on the pill?” he asks while he starts to pump his cock. “I am,” you say. “Good. I want to fuck your pussy and then, since you suggested sucking me off, come inside your mouth. I want you to taste me. You don’t swallow until I say so. Do you understand?” he asks, sliding his cock through your folds to tease you. “Yes Sir, I understand,” you whimper and he wastes no time and pushes inside you.
His first thrust already make your eyes roll back and you feel like you’re going to die from the intense pleasure. Your legs wrap around his waits and your hands are on his back, pressing him even more against your body. Everytime a whimper or a moan escapes your mouth his thrust become deeper, rougher and faster. You can feel him throb inside you and he keeps hitting your g- spot over and over again.
One of his hand is sneaking through your breast, squeezing it and toying with your nipple. You graze his back with your fingernails and make sure to leave marks on him. Your mind goes blank and you lose yourself in the pleasure completely. After a few more thrust you can feel the orgasm building up inside of you. “Close,” you breath out and he nods. “Me too. You can come on my cock now.”
You let go and your orgasm is even more intense than you expected. You moan his name so loud that he quickly covers your mouth with his hand again. He picks up his speed and a few thrusts later he pulls out of you to shove his cock into your mouth. You can feel his cum inside your mouth and taste him, just like he told you to. He watches you closely the whole time while he recovers from his own orgasm.
“Now swallow,” he says and you do. Then he pulls you forward with both of his hands to kiss you. The kiss is different this time, more gentle and caring, not just full of lust. When he pulls back you both smile. “I guess sending you this picture was not bad at all. And I was so worried.” He laughs. “I’m glad you send it, angel. Now I finally have you all to myself. It's a shame I couldn't take more time for you right now. There's a lot more I'd like to do with you,” he says with a mischievous smile on his face. “Why don’t you show me after your office hours, Sir?” you say with a smirk on your face. “Make sure to be here on time, angel.”
#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds smut#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid smut#professor reid#professor x student
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simon doesn't pursue people, he operates more like a one-man strike team. his approach to human connection is transactional, pragmatic, a matter of logistics.
on the rare occasion he's looking for company, he wants someone easy, who won't fuss when he introduces them to a thin motel mattress. won't ask what he does for work or try to make plans for the morning. won't bother him about 'next time'. nothing long-term. no strings.
he doesn't have a 'type' so much as a protocol: pick someone malleable, pliant, and preferably on the pill.
then you start working at his local.
the first time he sees you, he doesn't notice much beyond the basics: efficiency, attentiveness, pouring pints and bantering with the regulars with aplomb. by the second or third time, he's paying closer attention. you're not just good at your job—you're quick, always three steps ahead of the chaos. you give out smiles left and right, but it's more muscle memory than genuine warmth. and you're clever, too. funny, even, when someone manages to earn your attention for longer than a transaction.
you could probably keep up with his humor. go toe-to-toe.
you're off-limits, though. that's the rule. bartenders are switzerland—neutral territory. don't shit where you eat. it's a system that works, so long as he doesn't let himself think too much about the view when you lean over the counter or the lilt of your voice when you ask what he's having tonight.
then one evening, you take another man's number. some leering idiot, too comfortable with inserting himself into your space, grinning like he's cracked your code because you haven't humbled him. simon doesn't react, not outwardly. he nurses his drink and watches as you smile, slip the napkin into your pocket, and turn back to the bar.
but that's when you become a problem.
he tells himself it doesn't matter, that it's nothing. he doesn't want a number or a date. but the thought of someone else having you—someone who doesn't know what to do with a woman like you—it's a splinter buried just deep enough to keep him thinking about it. irritating, prone to fester.
how to approach you, though? he can't be as direct as he'd like, can't pin you down with a look or crass words. no way to corner you when you're safe behind the counter, or disappearing through a staff door. hanging around until you're off would be pathetic. dog behavior, he thinks, with a twinge of contempt for the mental image. he's got too much self-respect for that, at least.
no, he's got to actually make an effort. use his words.
the next time he comes in, he waits. no more corner tables or watching from afar. he sits close, pretends not to notice how your hands look slicing a lime. he orders his usual and tries not to overthink your tone when you set it down in front of him.
"you alright?"
you reach for his card, fingers pinching the plastic, but he holds on, smirking when you tug and then huff.
this is the moment. his moment. the one he's been building toward in his head for days. but there's a hitch, a blip in his usual confidence, and he fumbles. he blames your perfume.
"so…you come here often?"
not what he meant to say, but not the worst.
the shockwave of his nuclear-level failure doesn't register until your lips twitch, and it finally sinks in. his eyes widen a fraction as the realization lands. oh, he's fucked it. all his rehearsing, for nothing.
"…yeah," you say, voice flat, a single brow raised as you gesture vaguely toward the bar around you. "i work here?"
his mouth dries, but his face doesn't change. he doesn't fight it when you pull the card out of his grasp. there's the barest glint of something in your eyes—amusement, maybe, or pity. he's not sure which is worse.
you turn away to ring him up, but when you glance back, he's gone.
next
#ghost x reader#do you think he goes back for his card?#confident ghost who loses all cool when presented with a hottie. i can relate.#i need him to be the butt of a joke for once.
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the cardio machine i want is on the cardio machine
cw: gym rat toji x loser!gf - size kink, sweat kink (?), toji is a big old meanie. loser!gf series: geto gojo nanami.
loser!reader who, like a million other sedentary people on new year’s eve, said “new year new me” and proceeded to enroll at the local gym.
gym rat!toji who knew how things are in the beginning of the year, so the first week he arrives one hour earlier than usual to avoid all the lazy fucks that won’t last two months.
of course he makes a few mental bets on the ones that would quit and how long it would take, you included.
it’s easy to spot the “i don’t want lift weights cause i don’t want look jacked” type of girl.
at the breaks between one set and the other he looked around, not surprised to see you slowing down the treadmill after running not even two whole minutes.
sometimes he caught you staring at him through the mirror, not an uncommon occurrence amonst the women there, though you surprised him one day by tapping his shoulder after he finishing his weighted squats.
“can you… give me a few tips?” he looked so intimidated, from up close his shoulders looked like a wall, he stared at you from above, dark green eyes seemed to be heavily judging you, “never mind this was a bad idea, sorry” you turned around, grabbing you bottle and running off the gym.
by the time you managed to gather the courage to show your face back there two whole weeks had passed.
“consistency is the key you know” you were distracted looking down your phone while slowly walking the treadmill when the handsome man appeared beside you, the sudden presence destabilized you.
before you could become the viral video of the week when inevitably a gym employee decides to post the security footage of your ass rolling off the active treadmill, toji wrapped one big arm around your waist and pulled you to the stable floor.
“you caught me off guard the other day” he said completely unfazed by saving you from a life of embarrassment, “then you disappeared.”
“yeah i didn’t know if i wanted to come back anyways, i haven’t see any results so far” you pulled the hem of your shirt down.
toji snorted, “‘course you ain’t seeing results, sweetheart, you don’t lift.”
“well, it’s hard…” toji rolled his eyes, there was always an excuse.
though he also did a new year’s resolution of being more patient, for his kids primarily but teaching a cute thing like you could be a good exercise too.
soon enough, toji was correcting your form, texting you asking why you haven’t showed up to the gym and ringing your bell incessantly when you complained about muscle pain and said you wouldn't go that day.
“it’ll feel better once you start to move” he explained, resting on your door frame when you opened the door on your pajamas.
“let me alone, just today” you whined.
“you asked for my help now go put on something without cartoons on it” he waited for you to turn around and slapped your butt. it had been only one week he was coaching you but there was already a weird intimacy due to the fact he was pretty much always looking at your body and touching you.
to correct your form. obviously.
"what do i have to do today, coach fushiguro?" you asked from your bedroom through an ajar door which allowed toji to get a peek at your pink underwear and cute ass.
"cardio, bicycle first. get some blood flowing on those sore muscles" he tilted his head and raised his eyebrows watching you bend over to grab a biker shorts at the lowest drawer then holding back a laughter at the grunt of pain coming from you.
"once it gets better i can teach you other types of cardio" he walked around your kitchen examining your cabinets and stuff you kept in your fridge. needless to say it was all junk.
"can't wait" you replied sarcastically, failing to understand the meaning.
it took a few more days till you got used to toji's training, then he decided to focus on your upper body.
"such a simple movement, how do you manage to get that wrong?" he raised from the bench he was sitting behind you watching your form through the mirror. you almost dropped the weights at your feet when he came close. it was almost scary how much bigger than you he was especially seeing it throght the mirror. his right hand wrapped around yours on the dumbell and his bicep touched your arm as he pushed your arm closer to your body, "tuck your elbows in, straight your back" his free hand pushed your shoulders till they were touching his chest.
how come he smelled so good, so... musky and...
"are you even making any force?" he lowered his head, his reflection looking annoyed. so you decided to ignore the sudden heat between your thighs and flex your arm the way he taught you.
and just like he promised, when you were consistent enough and handling a good 5 minute run he decided to show you a more pleasing cardio.
"toji please~" you whined, thighs burning from riding him, you were using his rock hard abdomen as a support, but still.
"one more minute, come on" he looked at the watch on his wrist and slapped your ass, "haven't i prep-ed you good enough?" his thumb rubbed your bottom lip then pushed in meeting your tongue, where you tasted yourself in his digits one hour after he ringed your bell and said he was going to reward your good discipline, but he had to strech you first.
"good girl" you felt his abdomn flex when he raised from his laying position on your bed, "now leave it to daddy" he pecked your lips and quickly changed positions, putting a pillow under your ass and rolling his neck to start his cardio of the day.
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A GREAT MOTHER TO BE
Oscar Piastri X Dentist!fem!reader
Summary: Y/n Piastri has a pediatric dentist office and this leads to many fun conversations with the children. Oscar overhears one of the genuine conversations and is sure that she will be a great mother in a few months.
Words: 1.7K+
Warnings: Cute, mention of Y/n's work, cute patients, Y/n's pregnancy, Husband and wife, and again, so cute
Author: English is not my first language, so I apologize for any spelling, grammar and slang mistakes that may be in the story. And you can request stories on my profile❤️🇧🇷
MASTERLIST
Y/n always said her job was an adventure. Each child who entered her office brought a unique personality and stories that made them laugh, reflect and, often, be enchanted.
As a pediatric dentist, she knew it wasn't just about caring for children's teeth, but also about creating a safe and welcoming environment for little ones to feel comfortable.
At the end of each day, it was almost a ritual for her to come home and tell stories to Oscar, who listened attentively while caressing his wife's belly, which was already rounded by four months of pregnancy.
He loved listening to her describe the children's antics, laughing at their imitations or exaggerated expressions as he recounted how the unlikely conversations between her and her patients took place.
At the moment, Y/n was working another day at the office. Y/n gently adjusted her stool and leaned towards her little patient, a four-year-old girl named Emily. With golden curls tied with a blue ribbon, Emily was the definition of curiosity.
"Okay, Emily, I'm going to use this little mirror here to take a look at your teeth, okay?" Y/n said with a reassuring smile, turning the small dental mirror in her hand.
Emily nodded quietly, but as soon as Y/n took the mirror out of her mouth, the inevitable question came.
"Why is he so small?"
Y/n chuckled softly, keeping her tone calm and playful. "Because I need it to fit in your little mouth. If it were bigger, you wouldn't be able to see everything properly, right?"
"Ah... so he's like a princess mirror?" Emily concluded, her eyes shining.
"Exactly!" Y/n replied, finding the comparison amusing. "And with it, I can see all the hidden parts of your teeth castle." Y/n smiled at the girl and turned her amused gaze to Emily's mother, who was watching the procedure. "She's so sweet!" Y/n said smiling.
Emily's mother laughs in agreement. "And very curious, you see."
Satisfied with the explanation, Emily opened her mouth again. Y/n picked up an instrument to check for a small cavity, but as soon as she took it out, another question popped up.
"What is that? A paintbrush?"
"It's an instrument that helps me clean places where the brush can't reach" Y/n explained. "It's like a magic broom to keep everything clean."
"My mom will want one of these!" Emily responded excitedly, eliciting a laugh from Yin and her mother who was sitting in an armchair at the back of the office.
Outside, Oscar had parked his car in the parking lot and entered his wife's office. He smiles at the receptionist and she briefly says that Y/n was answering. Already knowing that he was her boss's husband.
Oscar smiles in agreement. "Oh sure, I was a little early, just..." He looks at his watch and smiles. "We have an appointment to see our baby in an hour."
The receptionist smiles and nods. And then the pilot walks down the hallway until he reaches the waiting room, which was in front of Y/n's office.
The environment was so colorful and full of life from the children passing by that Oscar felt more and more anxious to have his baby in his arms.
With the door to her office half open, Oscar could hear his wife talking calmly to the child she was treating, while the little one laughed and asked more questions about the dental equipment she used.
He couldn't stop smiling when he heard how Y/n handled the little girl with so much patience and affection, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
As Y/n explained each step to Emily, Oscar found himself thinking about what it would be like when it was their baby there, asking the same curious questions and seeking answers with the same sweetness.
Y/n adjusted the instruments on the tray beside her while little Emily lay there, waiting patiently.
"We're almost done, princess" Y/n said with a warm smile, standing up to get more gauze from the nearby cabinet. As she stood up, she instinctively placed a hand under her belly, the gesture so natural that she didn't even notice.
Emily, however, widened her eyes at the movement and pointed, with an innocent and curious smile.
"Ah, you have a baby with you!"
Y/n chuckled, turning to the little girl as she picked up the gauze. "Yes, I have a baby here with me."
"Do you take him everywhere?" Emily asked naively, her eyes shining with curiosity.
Y/n and the girl's mother laughed at the comment.
"Yes, I will. But only for nine months," Y/n replied, sitting back down in the chair next to the little girl. "Actually, after I'm done here with you, I also have an appointment to see how he's doing."
Emily opened her mouth, eager for Y/n to continue the procedure, but she couldn't hold back the questions. As soon as Y/n finished, Emily leaned forward in her chair and asked excitedly.
"And what is his name? Do you know if it's a boy or a girl?"
Y/n arranged the instruments and smiled. "My husband and I haven't decided on a name yet, but it's a little boy."
Emily smiled even wider. Y/n helped her down from the chair and the little girl ran to her mother. Before leaving, Y/n took out a 'certificate of courage' and a shiny star pin and handed them to Emily.
"There you go, you were a very brave patient today!" Y/n said, handing over the items.
Emily looked at the brooch and certificate as if they were treasures and, before leaving with her mother, she turned to Y/n with an unexpected request.
"Could... could you bring a picture of the baby for me to see at my next appointment?"
Y/n chuckled softly, bending down to her level. "Of course. Next time, I'll bring a picture of my boy for you to see. But only if you promise me you'll brush your teeth properly, okay?"
Emily smiled excitedly and nodded in agreement.
Meanwhile, Oscar, who was still watching everything from the half-open door, felt his heart tighten. He already knew that Y/n was special, but seeing her like this, so natural, so affectionate with the children, only reinforced how lucky he was to have her.
Y/n gave him a gentle smile as she opened the office door, before turning to Emily's mother.
"If you can avoid sweets for now and help her brush her teeth after meals, I believe she won't have any more pain. We look forward to seeing you next week."
Emily's mother thanked her, and the little girl gave Y/n a tight hug before running out of the office, she smiled excitedly and ran in front of her mother, stopping at the reception to show the brooch to the receptionist.
Oscar then approached his wife, smiling as she watched the girl walk away. He gave her a soft kiss on the forehead.
"How are you, love?"
Y/n sighed, a calm smile on her lips.
"I'm fine, I'm just going to pack up before we go to the appointment."
Oscar walked her back to the office, watching her as she organized the instruments. He knew their lives would change completely in the coming months, but at that moment, he knew for sure that Y/n would be an incredible mother.
"You have a gift, you know?"
"Why?" Y/n asked curiously as she sanitized the instruments.
"The way you deal with these children. The patience, the calm manner... You can see how safe they feel with you."
Y/n blushed slightly. "Ah, it's work, Osc. We adapt."
Oscar shook his head, approaching his wife. "No, it's you. And I have no doubt: in a few months, you're going to be an incredible mother."
His words took her by surprise, and Y/n felt her eyes well up. She smiled, moving closer to him and placing a hand on her belly.
"I hope you're right, because I'm counting on your help, Mr. Piastri."
He chuckled and kissed her forehead. "Always. Now let's go see how daddy's little boy is doing." He placed a hand on her back as he guided her to the office door.
She laughs. "No, he's definitely a mommy's boy. Isn't he, son?" She runs her hands over her belly and the baby moves. "Look, he moved. That means he agrees with me."
Oscar chuckled, bending down slightly to get closer to Y/n's belly. He gently ran his hand over the spot where the baby had moved.
"Little guy, listen to Daddy. You're my partner, right? You're going to help me with Mommy when she starts saying she's the boss around here."
Y/n gave a soft laugh, shaking her head. "Do you really think he'll take your side?"
Oscar looked up at her, a mischievous smile on his face. "I'm sure. We're already a team!"
"Of course they are..." Y/n replied, amused, running her hand through her husband's hair. "Until he's born, then he'll understand that, deep down, he's a mommy's little boy."
"We'll see!" Oscar teased and laced his fingers through hers as they walked down the hallway. "But in the meantime, let's see how our little champion is doing."
"Little champion?" Y/n raised an eyebrow. "Are you putting pressure on him already, Piastri?"
Oscar made an innocent gesture with his hands. "Not at all. I'm just saying that if he's half as good as you, he's already a champion."
Y/n stopped for a moment in the hallway, looking at him with a look full of tenderness. She leaned in and gave him a brief but meaningful kiss on the lips.
"You know how to make me emotional, you know?"
He smiled, squeezing her hand affectionately. "It's easy, you're everything to me."
And with that, Oscar opened the office door and led her to the car, as they laughed together about who the baby would choose as his favorite in the future.
That moment, so simple, yet so full of love and companionship, reinforced what Y/n already knew: They were not just a couple, they were a team, ready to face any challenge while anxiously awaiting the arrival of the baby that was already so loved.
#fanfiction#y/n#romance#lovers#imagines#marriage#one shot#formula 1#formula one#fem reader#imagines oscar piastri#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x reader
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how do you think jjk men are with embarrassing moments during sex? like if something embarrassing that happens to either them or their partner, do they play it off, try to inject humor, swear off sex to be a monk?
i read a similar post by an author advocating for well, not just more realistic depictions of sex in fics, but to include some of the awkwardness present in them too?? their post included geto’s hair getting stuck in butt cracks, Toji pulling a muscle, Nanami losing his boner, and Choso full on shitting himself accidentally to help with reader’s embarrassment over queefing 😭😭😭
like yes it’s funny and bonkers but cuz sex isn’t always the passionate sexy fuckfest we see in fics/movies, people don’t always cum at the same time, yes you DO need lube AND prep, foreplay DOES matter, dryness or losing an erection midway no matter how horny you are is common yano?? 😤😤
lowkey wanted to go anon lest you call me perpetually horny 😭 but ignore me if my shit’s getting old
own your shit bae, no pun intended. ur horniness could never get old. I like these questions cause they're like brain teasers. okay okay lemme have a go
Gojo:
says a cringy line
I can totally see him trying something new that he thinks would be super sexy like
"oh yeah? you like that? you're such a dirty whore, aren't you? come on, cum and show me who you're daddy is."
reader will pause and stare at him like, did you hear yourself?
gojo will have a moment of realisation and give himself the ick. even he has limits.
he collapses on top of reader and begs her to forget that, will be a blushing mess.
he'll think about it once in a while and cringe
but in the moment, he'd throw a tantrum if you can't stop laughing and making fun of him.
"it wasn't that bad! you're being mean, seriously. I just got caught up, okay? stop laughinggggg"
gets very pouty, protests, and you have to seduce him back, really compliment the hell out of him
then he'll force you on top and make you take the lead so he doesn't give himself another opportunity to be embarassing
Geto:
trying to switch positions in a tight space and then you accidentally rest your elbow on his long hair and he almost rips outs chunks
probably gets irritated because you've damaged his brilliant hair
takes a breather and then starts back up again
punishes you during sex
will crack a smile if you do
"yeah, alright, laugh it up. but if I develop a bald spot, neither of us will be laughing."
will make sure that never happens again
might even pull your hair during sex to show you how it feels (not too hard obvi)
Choso:
might get too subby lol
like "am I a good boy mommy? am I doing good? I don't want my mommy to be mad at me" and he's in tears
idk how to write mommy kinks lol
and you both have a moment of clarity where it's like, damnnn you okay? didn't know you had trauma like that
he'll get very shy and embarrassed
might even start crying, trying to run away
you'll have to reassure him it's fine and then just go slowly and gently, having more loveydovey sex
late at night, he'll ask you if you really didn't mind because he doesn't want you to be freaked out or think he's not a man
but I imagine it'd become a kink you indulge him once in a while
just gotta teach him it's okay, just don't spring it on someone mid act lol
Toji:
trying a really acrobatic fucking position, whether in the living room or in the shower, gets his footing wrong and slips, smacks his head against the wall, takes you down with him
he knocks himself out
you have to wrangle his 200 pound or something body in to a safe lying position and wait for him to come to
when he does and he remembers what happens
bro is in denial
no he didn't slip
no he didn't overestimate himself
no it didn't hurt
no he's not embarrassed stop asking him
gets very grumpy and will storm off, grumbling under his breath
comes back calmer
neither of you mention it but it hangs in the air as you both prepare dinner together
once sat across each other, you make an eye contact and you burst out laughing
he rolls his eyes but he's got a smile on his lips
"yeah yeah, what fucking ever. you try lifting your heavy ass up whilst you're balls deep"
next time tho, he gets you back by forcing you to endure vanilla sex, going very slow and shallow and overly sweet
makes you beg for him to fuck you normally
he'll consider it
Nanami:
drunk sex, becomes wayyyy too emotional
"sweetheart, you're the most beautiful thing in the entire world, I love you so much do you know that? I honestly -hiccup!- c-can't live without you, oh goodness, please don't make me live without you!"
he's still inside, he's not even thrusting anymore, he's just crying into your neck like a baby
you're brushing his hair, shushing him, orgasms forgotten
might vomit on you a little
wakes up with a killer hangover and a night full of memories he wishes he could erase
"oh god, honey. I'm so terribly sorry. I can't believe I did something so ridiculous. no I know loving you openly isn't ridiculous, but I wouldn't be wrong to say crying, leaving you unsatisfied, forcing you to care for a man child, and cherry on top, vomitting on you is just a little ridiculous."
has to go make it up to himself for being a terrible husband
will spoil you for the rest of the week
or anytime he remembers
might actually drink less because of it lol
Sukuna:
he'd kill you if he did something embarrassing
pray he never does
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Kiss with a fist
To his twins, the world is ending. To Lando, it’s another exhausting reminder that parenting might actually be harder than racing.
or - No boys allowed near the girls from now on, especially not his rivals' son.
warning: dad! Lando, none, fun, domestic 3k word count stand alone part of Norris Family Polaroids
//
There is a loud crying sound coming from the room the seven year olds share and Lando has never felt so old in his bones. He'd just come back from an exhausting race and those don't exactly get easier with age. In times like these, he longs for the days when he was in his first years in F1, blissfully unaware of just how capable and seamless his body was. Anyway. No time to sulk in. One of his daughters is in distress and the day he does not respond to that will be the day he willingly puts himself up in jail.
He gets up from the couch and rushes over to the kids room. The crying is not stopping and when he enters it somehow starts clicking all in. He kneels down and hugs Maya, who looks like is determined to cry her eyes out. Meanwhile, Olivia is sitting on her bed, exceptionally quiet and has never looked more suspicious in her life, ever.
"We need to keep a closer eye on Liv, I think she's teasing Maya too much these days" he recalls Y/N saying over the phone one late evening. It was an early morning call for him, due to the timezones, but he remembers it clearly. He brushed it off, telling his wife that it's getting late over back home and that she should go and get some sleep while she can. But right now, assessing the current situation, he is not so sure about his previous judgement. Long gone is the time he was scared of being a bad parent, of fucking up. He's come to realization that he will inevitably fuck up - not in the same way as his parents, but in a completely new and original way. The fact they were blessed with twins making it that more likely to happen. He's hugging and caressing one daughter, while eyeing the other. Olivia has this look in her face and his stomach sinks down deeply, because he has seen this look before. In the mirror, many times. He was what most would consider a peaceful quiet child. Unless it was him and his sister alone. He'd tease her mercilessly, wait for her to start crying and then play innocent. His parents fell for that so easily.
And now, he's looking at his own daughter, who stares right back at him, and they both know. He shakes his head, making sure Maya does not see and while it does make him mad, it makes him less mad that it should. Because ultimately, he knows that him and his sisters grew up just fine and this teasing eventually stopped. Still, his other daughter is wallowing in his arms and he can't ignore that.
Maya is the first one to speak. "Daddy...I don't want to have a baby," she leans back from his embrace and pouts at him in a way only seven year old know how. So raw, honest and unfiltered.
Lando must have misheard her. “Come again, sweetheart?”
He brushes few tears away. At least she’s not sobbing anymore and is focused on trying to get the words out. “I don’t want to have a baby, I’m too young for that”.
It’s hard not to agree with that. She is seven years old.
He smiles gently, trying to somehow untangle this. "Why would you have a baby?" Another stream of tears and cries follows and she wraps herself in his arms again. He sighs, as it is does not get easier with time to hear your little daughter cry and he looks up to Olivia, who's still sitting on her bed. He's not mad per say, but he's silently asking her to help him find an answer to this all. This is the first time that Liv's expression shakes up and cracks away, hinting on either guilt or at least a sorrow she feels at the sight of her own twin crying. Good, Lando thinks. He tries as much as he can to avoid automatically blaming her for anything without having enough information about the situation. But, his it's hard to ignore his intuition.
He turns to Maya again. "Sweetie, why would you have a baby? You're so young?"
Maya's voice trips over her own sobs, but she finally speaks again. "I...I kissed a boy today."
Now - hold on. First of all, why is his seven year old daughter kissing some boys? He feels himself tense up. Of course he knew this days would come, but he was silently hoping for ten more years of keeping his little angels as they were. Just young, tiny kids running around playing tag. Not kissing boys, girls or whomever. "Who did you kiss?" he can't stop himself from asking, silently hoping he does not know the parent of said boy, because there is no way of preventing himself from making the "concerned parent phone call". Monte Carlo is small, there is only few nursery schools around here. It's an everyone sort of knows everyone kind of situation. "Maya, don't worry - you're not in trouble," he adds, trying to make sure he keeps up on having his daughter willing to tell him stuff like that. She is not in trouble - the boy is. Lando used to be a boy. He knows what's up.
Maya's lip is trembling and her eyes are wet. He can't bear that sight. "Sweetheart, you're not pregnant. I'm sure of that," he consoles her and after few moments of deep thought, she seems to believe him. She ask once more for confirmation. His answered is interrupted by his other daughter, who now looks equally concerned as Maya was just a minute ago.
"But she is pregnant. That's how it works. Boys at the playground said so," she speaks, oh-so-sure of her claims. He face is serious and has a sense of fatality around it. He begins to understand how other children would fall so deeply under this spell.
Ah, Lando thinks and the penny drops. He runs his hands through his hair and has to chuckle just a bit. He doesn't want Maya to think he’s making fun of her, but the absurdity of the situation is too much. He leans back on his heels, looking between his two daughters. Maya’s face is still flushed from crying, and Olivia is sitting with her arms crossed, looking like a pint-sized prophet of doom.
He clears his throat, trying to sound as serious as possible. "Okay, let's get something straight out of the way. Kissing someone is not how you get pregnant," he speaks and his mind briefly flashes to the panic he and Y/N felt the moment they found out she was pregnant with the twins. It's been a long time ago and enlightening journey since, but he can somewhat understand the sentiment. He tries to ground his children down some more. "Look at me and Mommy. We kiss all the time and she is not pregnant, right?"
Olivia seems intrigued. "So, how do you get pregnant?" He looks at her and curses himself for walking right into that one. It's clear in her face and maneurism that she is going to be a very difficult teenager one day. "Ask Mommy when she comes back," he blurts out, not at all prepared for that talk. He's also already mentally ordering apology bouquet for his dear wife for throwing her under a bus like that. He turns to Maya again. "Anyway, you don't worry. You're not pregnant," he caresses her cheek and once she really does seem more calm, he asks. "Now - who kissed you?"
Maya glances at Olivia, and Lando notices his other daughter watching with laser focus. Olivia’s lips are pressed tightly together, her expression that of someone who knows something and is dying to spill it.
“Do you want me to tell him?” Olivia asks suddenly, looking unable to contain herself any longer.
“Liv,” Lando says with a sigh, shooting her a warning look.
“What? I already know who it was,” Olivia says, folding her arms across her chest with a dramatic flair that only a seven-year-old can pull off. He averts his gaze to Maya, who looks like is ready to fess up.
"You're not in trouble," he says and hopes he can keep up on his promise.
She tenses up and something tells Lando he actually does not want to know. "It was Lucas." Too late. “Lucas,” he repeats, his voice carefully neutral.
Maya nods slowly, her cheeks flushing pink. “Lucas Verstappen,” she specifies. Lando feels his stomach drop. Max Verstappen’s son. Of all the boys in the world, it had to be Lucas, the mini version of the Verstappen gang and what one would call a true heir of their infamous blunt approach to life. If this is true, it marks the beginning of a lifetime of headaches. His poor, sweet little daughter - one he'll have to protect until forever.
"And she kissed him too!" Olivia nearly screams out, letting her opinion on this known by the judgy tone.
Lando eyes grow wide and he silently thankful for Olivia spilling it like it is. Maya's guilt ridden face gives it away all. "Maya, honey, aren't you a little young to be kissing boys?" he asks rhetorically, because of course - his little angel should definitely not be doing that.
"I would never kiss a boy! They are gross and annoying," Olivia blurts out, ever-so-competitive. He's not sure what scares him more, Maya who's running around kissing boys or Olivia, who reminds him of himself more each passing day. Let's see about that, Liv, when in ten years I'm warding off boys from your window, he thinks, but does not say it out loud.
"He kissed me first!" Maya defends herself and snuggles into Lando's embrace more. He sighs. It's not been the quiet chill down he expected to return to.
"Okay, ladies. Let's all calm down. How about some ice-cream?" he offers, hoping that cheap bribing will buy him some time to think. The sudden cheers confirm it and he's adding another five flowers to the bouquet for Y/N, knowing she won't condone this.
//
He's watching his daughters munch on the impromptu ice-cream sundae, both of them sitting silently on the kitchen counter, apparently dead set on destroying their pajamas with colorful stains.
The name Verstappen still rings in his ears. They're suppose to have a little family get together tomorrow and for some reason, that's starting to increasingly bother him.
He excused himself for a moment and goes to the balcony, making what he fears is one of the first distressed "my daughter kissed someone" call in his life - and not the last one. Headache. That's what it is.
The phone rings twice before Max picks up, his voice sounding tired and politely annoyed.
“Lando. What’s up, mate? Is it urgent, I'm kind of dead tonight.”
Lando takes a deep breath, trying to sound calm. Oh, you and your son will be dead very soon.
"Hi Max, yeah, it sort of is," he murmurs, trying to think his strategy through. "We have to cancel tomorrow, something came up." Genius. That's who he is. Now, he just has to move his family away from Monte Carlo and make sure Maya never meets Lucas Verstappen ever again. Problem solved.
Max doesn’t miss a beat. "Cancel? What do you mean cancel? Lucas has been talking about seeing the girls all week." Of course he has. Lando groans internally. Of course Lucas has been excited. This wasn’t just any hangout. This was apparently the next chapter in their little playground romance.
"Yeah, not gonna happen, mate," Lando insists, leaning on the balcony railing, running a hand through his hair, overlooking at his dearest angels, who will need his infinite protection. "We can’t do it. Something came up. Okay, bye."
Max is quick enough to speak before he manages to hang up. "Wait, what? If it's a problem for you and Y/N, we can just take care of the kids, no problem."
Is it the whole Verstappen family that wants to take his precious daughters? Lando knows he might be overreacting, but he is a tired man with a resposibility over two seven year old. Cut him some slack.
"No. Canceled. Bye," he says and kills the call. There, all sorted. He immediately goes on figuring out some back up activity for the family, something that will sound so exciting that they will all forget about the Verstappens.
Max calls him right back and he does not pick it up.
The young father goes on putting the girls down, everyone is now calm and there are no more pregnancy scares. He is good at this. Everything is great. Just as the girls are tucked into bed, eyelids drooping and calm finally restored, Lando’s phone buzzes once more. He glances over at it, expecting Max to be trying again. Instead, he sees Y/N’s name flashing on the screen.
“Hi, love,” Lando answers, trying to sound casual. He winks at his daughters, who are always excited when Mommy's around. “How’s dinner?”
“It’s nice,” Y/N replies, but her tone has an edge, the one where he knows she’s about to interrogate him. “How’s everything at home? The girls okay?”
“They’re fine,” Lando says quickly and decides to leave the kids bedroom, so that he can pace around, as he always does when Y/N sounds like that. “All good here. No problems.”
There’s a beat of silence. He can feel her narrowing her eyes through the phone. He can hear the rush of the restaurant she's at, so her calling him must have a pretty good reason.
"Mm hm. So why did you cancel tomorrow’s hangout with Max and his family?"
Lando rolls his eyes, his brain scrambling for an answer while cursing Max mentally. Ugh. “Uh… something came up?”
"What "something," exactly?" Y/N presses, her voice filled with wonder.
"Just… things," Lando says vaguely, mentally kicking himself.
"Things," Y/N repeats flatly. "Lando, Max is suspicious. He just called me, distressed, asking what was going on, and now he thinks you’re mad at him."
This fires him up again. "Well, I am mad at him! So he got that right." Saying this makes him feel like the child in this scenario. Headache. Again.
Y/N sighs. "Did something happen on the track?" he asks patiently.
"What?" he asks, confused. He shakes his head. "No, no, it's um...The girls don't want to meet Lucas tomorrow, that's all."
Even he can't believe his tone.
"The same girls that spent the whole of yesterday excited about the bouncy castle they have at home?" she speaks with almost annoyed tone now. Lando groans, resting his forehead on the cool countertop. He does not have an answer. Just as he's about to fill her in on the whole kissing debacle, he continues. "Look, unless they're sick or something, can you please call Max and talk this out? I'm at the dinner and I can't just spend it all on the phone with my husband and his friend. Call him and talk it out."
Why is life so hard on him? "Do I have to? Can’t we just-"
"Lando," Y/N interrupts firmly. "You canceled without an explanation. You absolutely have to."
"Fine," he says, defeated. "Have a nice dinner, honey. I miss you," he concludes genuinely.
"Me too," Y/N says, her tone softening slightly. "I’ll check in when I’m on my way home. Love you."
"Love you too," Lando mutters, hanging up. He stares at his phone for a moment, then reluctantly dials Max’s number again.
It rings twice before Max answers, his voice dripping with faux innocence.
"Hey man. What the fuck?" Verstappens - always the pleasure.
"Max," Lando starts, rubbing his temple. "How are you? All good?" he asks politely, like the Brit he used to be once.
"What the fuck do you mean, how am I. You cancel out of nowhere and now Lucas won't talk to me, so yeah, great night off for me," he hears unfiltered tone coming through the speaker. He can't say it does not please him a bit.
"Well, it's late, he should be sleeping anyway," Lando let's out of his mouth before he thinks that through, ragging Max even further.
"You stop giving me instructions on how to raise my child and act like an adult for a moment, would you?"
"If someone should act more adult, it's Lucas," Yeah, Lando. Great comeback. Wow. The eight year old should act more like an adult.
Max manages to brush over that. "Did he do something to the twins? You need to tell me these things, how am I suppose to fix it if I don't know what happened? Or if something has even happened?"
It's hard to fight that logic. Especially after the evening Lando has had today. Lando sighs. There’s no way out of this, so he decides to just rip off the band-aid. "Maya told me… that Lucas kissed her. The silence on the other end is deafening. "And she kissed him back," Lando adds, cringing.
Max’s response is immediate: he bursts into laughter. "Oh, my God," Max wheezes. "Lucas and Maya? That’s amazing."
"It's anything but amazing, Max,” Lando snaps, pacing around again. "She thought she was pregnant because of something the kids on the playground told her! Do you know how much emotional damage I’ve endured in the past hour?"
Max is still laughing, clearly delighted. "Mate, you’re overreacting. They’re small. It’s harmless."
"This is the first boy she’s kissed, Max!" Lando argues. "Your son is now part of her origin story!"
"Oh, please," Max says, still chuckling. "What do you think is going to happen? They’ll run away together? They’re kids, Lando. Relax. It's normal for the to do this."
"I can’t relax," Lando grumbles. "And what’s worse, Olivia is now convinced she’s never falling in love because, and I quote, "boys are gross.""
Max cackles again. "Honestly, that’s probably for the best. Liv’s smart."
Lando's cup of patience, small one to begin with, is truly overflowing.
"Alright, alright," Max says, finally calming down and sensing that teasing Lando is not the way to go about it tonight. "Look, Lucas is a good kid. He probably just thought Maya looked pretty and didn’t know how else to say it. I’ll talk to him, alright? But you don’t need to cancel tomorrow over this."
Lando hesitates, chewing on the inside of his cheek. He knows they would all team up against him anyway. He lost this one. "You’re sure he won’t try anything else?"
Max snorts. "What, like propose? No, Lando, I don’t think so. He’s seven."
Fine.
//
The sound of children’s laughter fills the Verstappens’ backyard, the air warm and bright with sunlight. Like it's all mocking Lando specifically. The infamous bouncy castle stands in all its glory. Lando leans against a chair at the patio table, his arms crossed as he surveys the scene with the intensity of investors watching their car getting overtaken on track.
Maya and Lucas are bouncing together, grinning ear to ear like they’ve completely forgotten the events of yesterday. Meanwhile, Olivia stands off to the side, arms crossed and nose wrinkled in distaste, looking like she’s silently judging the entire scenery. She’s probably drafting her manifesto on why boys are, indeed, “gross.” Lando feels proud. At least one of his daughters is strong enough not to fall for cheap boy's tricks. Not even Y/N seems to understand the gravity of the situation. No matter how long Lando spent trying to explain it to her. Cute, that's what she called it. He hopes this is not a precedent. For now, he stands alone.
"You’re watching them like a prison guard," Y/N comments, nudging Lando gently as she sits down beside him.
"And for good reason," Lando replies, narrowing his eyes at Lucas, who’s apparently successfull at making Maya laugh. "He’s already made a move once. I’m not letting it happen again." He will sit happily sit in every playground they happen to encounter each other at.
Y/N hides her smile behind her coffee cup. "I think we’re safe for now. They’re just kids, Lando. You don’t have to treat Lucas like he’s some F1 rival trying to steal pole position from you."
"He is trying to steal something," Lando grumbles under his breath. Max strolls over, holding a plate of snacks, like the responsible dad he pretends to play, and looking entirely too pleased with himself. "Enjoying the show?"
Lando gives him a side-eye glare. "You think this is funny, don’t you?" Max smirks, popping a grape into his mouth and just nods.
"Your son traumatized my daughters yesterday," Lando fires away.
Max rolls his eyes. "And now they’re bouncing around like best friends again. Kids bounce back back. In this case, literally." Oh, he thinks he's so funny.
As if on cue, Lucas lands a little too close to Maya, sending both of them tumbling onto the floor of the bouncy castle in a fit of giggles. Lando tenses, halfway out of his seat before Y/N grabs his arm.
"Relax," she whispers. "It's fine." "For now," Lando protests, settling back reluctantly. From across the yard, Lucas suddenly stands up and calls out: "Mr. Norris!" Lando freezes, his eyes narrowing as the devil child approaches him. "What?" Lucas grins, holding up a flower he’s picked from the garden. He's rushing over to his and hands it to Lando, eyes filled with expectation and anticipation. "This is for Maya!" Speechless Lando accepts the flower, albeit confused as to why he's handing the flower to him and not to Maya, if she's the supposent recipient. Lucas flashes one look towards his father and in the corner of the eye, Lando can see Max nod approvingly. They really have all teamed up against him. Everyone is watching them and waiting for something exiting to happen. Olivia, the only one having Lando's back, lets out an audible groan loud enough to be heard across the yard.
"Oh, come on," she says, throwing her hands in the air. “This is ridiculous. I’m never falling in love. Ever!”
Y/N snorts into her coffee, Max doubles over laughing, and Lando buries his face in his hands. Meanwhile, happy Lucas runs back to the bouncing castle.
"Why is my life like this?" he wonders, looking up the sky for answers. None come. Y/N pats his shoulder affectionately. "Because you’re the dad of two amazing girls. And one of them might have a little crush. It’s not the end of the world."
"It’s the beginning of the end," Lando mumbles dramatically. Max grins, leaning closer. "You know, if Lucas and Maya end up together, we’ll officially be family. Imagine that, Lando," he pauses dramatically. "Maya Verstappen."
Lando's stomach turns upside down, he groans and turns to Y/N. "We're moving to another continent."
The domestic afternoon continues, adults laughing and talking - apart form Lando, who sits in his observant position, regularly sighing, back leaning and forth in his chair. It’s going to be a long, chaotic road ahead. And it looks like he's the only sane person around - in his opinion exclusively.
----------------------- note: fire up them ideas for this pseudo series!!! love you all
#lando norris#lando norris fic#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#lando norris angst#f1 x you#lando norris fluff#lando norris imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 smut#f1 driver x reader#f1 driver x you#formula 1 fic#lando norris fanfic#f1 imagine#formula 1 oneshot#formula 1 imagine#f1#f1 x reader#f1 x y/n#f1 fics#f1 fic#lando norris oneshot#lando norris one shot#ln4 imagine#formula 1#formula one x reader#formula 1 fluff#lando norris x y/n#lando x reader
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Couldn't Wait
Eddie Munson x fem!reader
Warnings: 18+ ONLY, NSFW, piv
When you come home from your girls night out, you had expected to find your boyfriend on the couch watching a horror movie or reading a comic book. You hadn't expected to find him waiting to pounce the minute you walked in the door.
"What has gotten into you, Eddie Bear?" you ask with a laugh, kicking off your heels so he can pull you down onto the couch with him.
"I need you, baby. Need you right now." His voice is rough between kisses delivered to your neck and cheeks and collar bone.
"Ok just let me change out of these clothes real quick -,"
“C’mon honey please, ‘m so fucking hard, jus’ look.”
He’s right. His cock is standing at attention in his sweatpants, clearly aching and reaching out for you. He drops a hand to his lap and palms himself slowly.
“Fuck, baby. Please. Need that tight little pussy. Let me have it.”
Your eyes widen taking in the state of him.
"Eddie Munson, what has gotten you so worked up that you could barely wait for me to get back?"
Eddie's gaze shifts away from you sheepishly over to the coffee table. Before he can stop you, you reach for the thing he'd glanced at - a polaroid of you. On your back in your shared bed. Naked and blissed out with a tattooed arm reaching in from the bottom of frame to rest a hand in the space between your legs.
"Oh," you say simply, a small smile forming on your lips.
"Baby, I'm fucking aching for you."
You play with one of his curls and pretend to consider it.
"Why didn't you just take care of yourself while I was gone?" you ask. "I wouldn't have minded."
"You think I would deprive myself of a goddess in favor of my own shitty hand? Babe. Be serious."
Eddie's eyelids are heavy and his chest rises and falls a little more rapidly the more he gets worked up. You drop your palm to it and let it slide down the plane of his torso, down his abdomen, and into his lap.
"Alright. We can be serious." You wrap your hand around his length through his pants in earnest. Eddie intakes breath sharply.
"Yes. Yes yes yes."
Your clothes on the floor in a matter of seconds, Eddie replacing the cups of your bra with his hands.
"Ahhh finally," Eddie says with the gusto of a man having his first drink of water after a long thirst. All you're doing is grinding down on him, working yourself up to reach his level. But the look on Eddie's face implies he's reached nirvana.
"You wanted me that bad, huh?" you tease, a bit more breathlessly.
"More than a blind man wants to see the sun," Eddie says reverently into your cleavage.
"Well that's an exaggeration," you chuckle. You can't press it, however, because Eddie begins pressing his finger on your clit through your underwear. After a few minutes you find yourself writhing above him.
After a particularly loud moan from you, Eddie grins.
"Speaking of exaggeration..."
"Oh shut up and fuck me, Munson," you smack his shoulder and climb off him to divest yourself of your final scrap of clothing.
"With pleasure. princess." Eddie gives you a salute before chucking off the rest of his clothes as well.
Before you can ask him how he wants you, however, you're twirled around to face away from him, his hand on the back of your neck, guiding you to kneel on the couch.
"That's it, baby," Eddie practically purrs. He lines his tip up with your dripping center, but instead of immediately sheathing himself inside of you, he swipes from your core down to your clit.
"Fucking tease," you complain, wiggling your hips to entice him forward. After all of his pleading and cajoling he was still making you wait. A swift slap to your ass makes you squeal.
"Takes one to know one."
When he finally does slide inside of you, you realize he's right. You'd rather this - a quick fuck in the dark of night with your lover - than seeing the sun.
~*~
I hope you enjoyed!
#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson fanfic#Eddie munson x you
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A Little Misunderstanding
Pairing: Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Lil' angsty at points, but ends sweet, lots of mutual pining and two idiots not realising the other is also in love with the other, meddling mothers (for the best this time)
Summary: Your parents assume that Quinn, the man you mention over the phone all the time, is in fact your boyfriend. He's very much not, but Quinn thinks its funny to pretend he is...until it gets a little too real and maybe some truths are told and feelings are aired.
Notes: Thank you to the anon who requested fake dating to lovers with Quinn, I had this idea which is a little different from the usual fake dating so I hope its okay and you still like it 😊
Tried to keep it ambiguous as to where the reader originated from so that us UK girlies can relate as well as anyone else not from Vancouver and/or Canada.
Reminder I typically use UK spellings because I'm English so...don't come at me if you wish I spelt it the US away. If I have to read US spellings all the time, you can handle the odd UK spelling
Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :)
Writing Masterlist
"When does your flight get in?" You balance your phone between your shoulder and ear, picking up a stray sock that had fallen out of your laundry basket as you attempt to tidy your apartment.
"7am your time, sweetheart, remember?" Your mother's voice rings clear down the line, familiar and warm. It's been a while since you saw either of your parents. You having moved all the way to Vancouver, more miles than you could count from your birthplace and hometown around two years ago. You were excited to have them finally able to come out and stay with you for a week, they'd never been to see you, and it had been a while since you'd been able to see your parents, not having time to fly to see them. While you were glad for the move to Vancouver, living in a completely different place away from your family wasn't always the easiest thing in the world. You so often felt like you were having to fend for yourself without much of a support network. Luckily you'd made some good friends in the time you'd been in Van.
"Quinn offered to come with me to pick you and dad up, we'll be there waiting for you so don't worry about getting an Uber." You dropped Quinn's name casually because that's what it was, he was just another part of your existence. Your friend, who admittedly you had a small crush on, but just your friend nonetheless. Just because you thought he was beautiful and wanted to kiss him didn't mean you were allowed to kiss him or that he'd even want to kiss you. He was a friend who happened to be a man and you both happened to be single. This had not changed for two years and wasn't likely to any time soon.
"Oh, Quinn'll be there?" Your mother's voice was suddenly more upbeat, excited. She'd been eager to meet Quinn for months now, you're not sure why she finally took an interest in one of your friends but you can't help but be glad. Quinn had become a massive part of your life, a support network you very much needed when you'd first come to a strange new place all by yourself. He was part of the fabric of your life now, and you knew he'd charm your parents without even thinking about it. It shouldn't matter to you that your parents like your friend, its not like Quinn was your boyfriend, but it did matter to you. You wanted them to like him as much as you did because you wanted him around for the foreseeable future.
"Yeah, I mentioned you were coming to visit the other day and his car is bigger than mine, so he offered to come along, he has to get up early most days anyway so he's not too bothered by it." It helped that Quinn had a couple of days off, but still you were thankful. He could have spent his rare enough free time doing something much more enjoyable than helping you pick your parents up from the airport.
"Your father and I look forward to meeting him, we've heard so much about him, darling!"
There's something about your mother's tone that makes you stop for a second suddenly feeling a little awkward about the whole thing. Maybe it's just how eager she is or maybe it's something else, but there's a little red flag waving in the back of your mind with some small print on that you just can't quite read yet.
"Right...um, look I'll see you tomorrow morning then? I gotta get everything ready for you guys."
"Of course, of course! We love you!"
"Love you too, mum."
"You're sure you don't mind?" You look over at Quinn from the passenger seat, the two of you look exhausted, big bags under your eyes and even bigger hoodies to hide in because a 5am wake up to get to the airport in time was just a little much for both of you. This early in the morning it's still dark and the streetlights do something to Quinn's face that makes him even more handsome than usual, even as he looks like he might fall back asleep at any minute. It doesn't help that his scruff has grown out or that his hair is in those perfect waves he always seems to get even when he's just taken his bucket off.
"I wouldn't have offered if I did, besides the amount of time we spend together isn't it about time I met your parents? You've met mine." He smiles over at you, cheeky, the sort of Quinn most people didn't see. It's silly that it makes your cheeks feel warm, he's just your friend. You shouldn't be flustered by him.
"Your parents are at as many of your games as possible, of course I've met them."
"So are you. Sue me for wanting to meet the parents of one of my best friends."
"I'm your best friend?" You lean your head back on the headrest, tilting slightly to grin at him all silly. Quinn can see it from the corner of his eye and as much as it's ridiculous, that little grin makes you even more beautiful than normal.
"One of." He rolls his eyes at you, partly because of your silliness and partly rolling his eyes at himself. You're his friend. He shouldn't feel this way about you, men can have female friends...he just can't seem to have you as a female friend without wanting to kiss you at any given opportunity. It's becoming difficult, even more so in the early morning when the low light level puts your face in stark contrast and your hoodie, one of his, makes you look so cozy and sweet.
"That's just your way of avoiding admitting how much you love me and need me in your life."
Quinn's cheeks flush bright red, so bright that even the low light can't hide it nor hide the way he bites back a smile at you, eyes fixed on the road and the last few miles to the airport.
"...Shut up."
The silence that fills the car is comfortable, the sort that comes about from spending so much time together. You have friends that aren't Quinn, of course you do, but Quinn had been your first friend in Vancouver. He'd shown you around and made time for you in his incredibly busy schedule. You were often the first person he saw when he came off a roadie and the last person to see him before he left for one. There were nights when you stayed round Quinn's after a game or vice versa. You spent so much time together that you simply coexisted, being around Quinn was as easy as breathing. You rarely argued or disagreed and when you did it was always resolved properly. You simply worked. There wasn't ever much to think about with Quinn. You could just...shut off.
"Thank you, though...seriously." You take a moment, thinking how to word your next few thoughts, your warning as the signs for the airport come into full view, "Just, my mum seems really eager to meet you so...just brace yourself."
"Eager?"
"You know when your parents are excited to meet a new partner?" You think back to the few times you'd introduced a boyfriend to your mum, the excitement that she exuded...it was starting to concern you that she was that excited to just meet your friend. Because that's all Quinn was. Your friend. Not your boyfriend. Your friend, you remind yourself, even as he looks so good smiling over at you with his beard. He'd let it grow out just enough that he looked rugged and mature.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah, she's that sort of excited which is really weird...she normally doesn't' care that much about my friends. Just, sorry, if she's really weird about it?" It's awkward enough talking about, you and Quinn have always stayed firmly platonic, you didn't talk about the fact that people assumed you were dating or even the concept of it. Talking about it felt...it felt like you were opening the curtains up, letting him see in a little too far.
"You didn't tell her we were married or something, did you?"
"Quinn! Shut up!" He laughs so loud that you can't actually be that mad at him, not when he's grinning at you like that, not when he's been so stressed as of late about the performance of his team. Even if it's at your expense.
"What? Just checking! For all I know you could have told her we got married in Vegas during one of my games or something?"
"If I'm telling my mum I'm married to you, it'll be because I'm actually married to you, you idiot." You roll your eyes at him, arms crossing over your chest as you turn to look out the window.
"Oh, so you do want to marry me?" He's joking, but he's not...he's thought about it. There's not a day that Quinn hasn't thought about what it would be like to be yours and you be his, not since he met you...and then promptly managed to land himself so far into the friendzone that he was scared to crawl his way out lest he leave you behind in the process.
"...I hate you."
"No you don't." His voice is singsong in intonation and sweet and he's right because you love him and it hurts...god, it hurts how much you love someone you can't have. Someone you see every day, someone who is so deeply ingrained in your life that removing him would be like carving a hole into your own chest.
You just sit and glare at him, even as a heavy sort of sadness hits, as he pulls up into one of the parking bays for collecting passengers.
It's okay that he's just your friend, you remind yourself as you get out of the car. It's okay because he's the best friend you could ask for, he's here at 6.45 am in the morning to collect your parents from the airport, not because he was asked or because he had to, but because he wanted to. You can live with loving him in silence, so long as you always have him around.
"I think they're over this way, probably, near gate 1?" You're just getting your bearings, trying to figure out roughly where your parents will come out at after they find their things from baggage claim when you hear it.
"My baby!" The squeal of a middle aged woman who hasn't seen her daughter in far too long pierces the air. You barely have time to brace yourself for impact before your mother is wrapping you up in a gigantic hug and pressing as many kisses to your face as possible, you know without a doubt her signature mauve lipstick is smudged all across your skin.
Your father stands behind her, rolling his eyes in amusement but the smile he gives you is no less warm, "Hey there, princess."
"Hi, mum, hi, dad," You pull yourself free from your mother just long enough to get a long awaited hug from your father, big and warm and so familiar that you almost feel like crying. How long has it been since you last hugged your dad? Half a year? Nine months? Longer? You sometimes don't realise how much you miss something until you get it back.
When you turn back around your mother is already pulling Quinn into a hug that he accepts, if a tad awkwardly, his hands patting her on the back like he's not quite sure how hugs work.
She has his face in her hands before you can intervene, overly familiar and friendly as she grins up at him like he's made her day just by existing. "You must be Quinn, Y/N's boyfriend..."
"Oh, he's n-" You're pretty sure your eyes bug out of your head, startled by the suggestion because at no point in the last few years of living in Vancouver had you ever called Quinn your boyfriend. Ever.
You're cut off by Quinn who's grinning at you wickedly over the top of your mother's head like he's just been giving the greatest Christmas present he could ever ask for and in that moment you know...you know that he is going to make your life very difficult with this tiny piece of information.
"Yeah, hi, nice to meet, the boyfriend, that's me." God, he wishes it was true. There's nothing more he wants in that moment than to be able to say to your mom that you are 100% his girlfriend, but he can't...he can, however, enjoy the roleplaying while it lasts. He can't really stop himself, not when you look so aghast at your mother calling him your boyfriend, not when he can use this to tease you for at least the next 30 years. He grew up with 2 brothers, sue him for taking advantage of the situation.
"Quinn!"
"What? Am I not allowed to call myself your boyfriend anymore?" He sidles up to you, slipping out from your mother's grip to pull you into his side. His arm rests naturally over your shoulder, yours finding his waist, and it is natural...because you've done this a million times before. The kiss he presses to your hair is new though, different and as much as your mum clearly believes the ruse, you can see your father just looks amused. Something tells you he knows this is all an act, but he finds it enjoyable to watch. Typical. No support from him when you need it most. Dads.
"Oh, she's just grouchy in the mornings, has been ever since she was a baby!" Your mother looks at the two of you with such pride that you're certain her heart actually might break when she finds out Quinn isn't actually your boyfriend. You've never seen her look so happy with your choice in a man before and you're certain she won't be able to cope when you have to inevitably tell her that it was either a) a lie or b) that Quinn just wasn't the guy for you (another lie just to make your life more complicated).
"Mum!"
"Oh don't worry, I know just how grouchy my baby can be in the mornings." This time he presses a kiss to your cheek and when he does, you hiss lowly in his ear, 'I'm going to kill you.' and Quinn can't help but laugh at you, biting his lip at how much fun he's having riling you up.
"Here let me take your bags, Mrs Y/L/N," Quinn's bending down before your mother can even begin to protest, her carry on backpack being slung over his shoulder and pulling up the handle of her suitcase to wheel it behind him.
"Oh, you don't have to, Quinn!"
"I insist." He knows he's making it harder on you, can see the look you give him because he's just going to make your mother fall in love with him. But, even as he enjoys riling you up, he was also raised right and he's not letting your mother carry her own bags.
Your mother hangs back with you while your father and Quinn start walking ahead with the suitcases. She slips her arm through yours walking with you to keep up, as she does so she does a very bad attempt at whispering. The sort of whispering that means you know Quinn can hear every word and is probably enjoying it immensely.
"He's such a gentleman..."
"Yeah, a real gentleman." You mutter sarcastically, watching the way his shoulders rise and fall in a silent laugh that he's no doubt doing his best to swallow down.
"Don't be grumpy, he's just being sweet on you. You should be glad for such a loving boyfriend..." Your mother scolds you before raising her voice back to normal, Quinn and your father slowing down slightly to help keep the four of you together, "So, Quinn, my daughter tells me you're a hockey player?"
"Yeah, you talk about me, baby?" Quinn's grin is wide, and you can't help the warmth that fills your entire face because you can't actually deny it. You talk about Quinn all the time, he's your best friend and whenever your mother phones, you inevitably talk about him. Whether it was a game of his you went to or a coffee place you'd visited together or gala he'd invited you to. Maybe, you talked about him too much? Maybe, it was obvious in the way you talked about him that you loved him? Maybe that's why your mother had made such a large assumption about your relationship status. Maybe this was your fault, why wouldn't she assume you were dating?
"She talks about you all the time. Quinn this, Quinn that...did you know that Quinn did this today and broke this record?"
"Mum..." You groan out, looking to your dad for help but all he does is shrug his shoulders at you, amusement bright in his eyes. Even if he could do something you know he wouldn't because he's clearly enjoying your torture.
Quinn can't help it, the tables seem to reverse. You're embarrassed still, but now he is too, bright red in the face, ears flushed the colour of a fire engine and a hand rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. All because you talk about him to your parents...you talk about him when he's not around...he feels like a twelve year old, giddy because his crush smiled at him for the first time.
"I play for the NHL."
"Vancouver Canucks, wasn't it?" Your mother asks as the four of you step out into the cold Canadian air, her attention making Quinn squirm and you smile, enjoying the discomfort being swapped around for a moment.
"Yeah, I'm the captain of the team." He smiles at your mother awkwardly as he opens the boot of the car and starts to pile in the suitcases, organising them in just the right way that they fit without hassle.
Your father chimes in as he lifts his own suitcase into the back, Quinn helping him shove it back further, "That's impressive, I used to play field hockey myself, never got out of the amateur league but got a few bruises in my time. You had an injury recently right?"
You still remember phoning your mum to talk about it, at first worried and then over time growing more and more frustrated with how sullen Quinn was being. He'd grown restless from not being able to play hockey and you'd been his distraction, a distraction that had grown fed up with his moping no matter how much you loved him.
"I've had a few this year, most recently my hand." He raises his braced hand, the brace a point of annoyance to him at this point in time. He was itching to be done with it, but put up with it because it meant he could still play hockey at the moment.
"Oh, you shouldn't have been carrying my bag then, Quinn!" Your mother fusses over him, flapping about as if she might have a miracle cure for his hand injury.
"Honestly, it's fine! It looks worse than it is, I promise. I wouldn't get away with it otherwise, this one would kill me." He nods his head at you as he closes the boot, opening one of the backdoors for your mother to slide inside.
"Damn right I'd kill you, I cannot take more days of you moping that you can't play hockey and that you're bored despite my amazing company."
"You know I enjoyed spending time with you, sweetheart...but..."
"But, you can't live without hockey, yeah, I know..."
He follows you round to the passenger side door, opening it for you like a gentleman and letting you slide inside. You find yourself enjoying the attention even as you catch your mother's eye in the rear view mirror, a little smirk reaching her lips as she watches Quinn buckle you in. Something he does from time to time when he's feeling particularly sweet...because he was a good friend.
"So, Quinn, how did you meet our daughter? I'm not sure she ever mentioned it?"
The entire ride home is filled with your mother peppering Quinn with questions, encouraging him to talk more and more about your 'relationship'. Everything from when you first met to the first date you went on (which Quinn told her was the first time he took you ice skating, you were under the impression that that was a friendly family skate event and most certainly not a date).
The conversation lulls while you set your parents up in your spare bedroom, helping them settle themselves and showing them around your apartment. They hadn't ever seen it in person and they spent half the time cooing over your choices, the photos of family and friends on the wall, the ones of you and Quinn, as well as your mother checking your fridge and telling you to buy more vegetables.
It's as you're sitting down to a breakfast of pre-bought croissants and pain au chocolat that your mother restarts her question. This time even more invasive than the first.
"So Quinn, when did you know?"
"Mm? Know what?" Your best friend looks at your mother with furrowed brows, taking a sip of his orange juice and almost choking on it when she proceeds to clarify her question.
"When you loved my daughter."
There's a long beat of silence where your eyes stay fixated on your plate, watching your own hands intently as you spread Nutella inside your croissant, far too focused on that to be anything casual or calm. You're certain you're going to be sick because he doesn't love you but you love him and your poor mother is so oblivious and this...this is going too far, it feels like it's gone too far.
"Expected answer or honest answer?"
"Honest answer."
"The second week I knew her." Your head snaps up with a start only to find Quinn looking directly at you, green eyes crinkling softly at the corners. "She heard that I had been hurt on the ice the night before and she stormed round my apartment with a bunch of food, medicine and a blanket. Spent the whole day looking after me and making me watch 90s movies I hadn't watched growing up. No one outside my family had ever done that for me before...it made me realise that if I wasn't already in love, I would be pretty quick." You almost believe him, the way he looks at you, the way he speaks so softly. Almost.
You look down at your plate, tears welling in your eyes because you know he doesn't mean it. He's spinning a yarn for your mother and it hurts that he would go that far when you both know this is all some ruse he's decided to pull. You swallow hard and take a bite of your croissant, refusing to look at him for the rest of breakfast.
You won't meet his eyes until he goes to leave after breakfast, your parents hanging back so you can say goodbye to your 'boyfriend'.
"Mind if I come over after dinner? We could watch a movie with your parents?"
"Quinn..." You go to challenge him on his behaviour today, but the words won't come out.
"What?"
"Nothing...uh, sure, after dinner?"
"After dinner, baby."
You want to tell him off as he says it, as he presses a kiss to your cheek so your parents can see because you aren't his baby and he's hurting you. He's hurting you without realising it because you so desperately want to be his baby. But, you don't. You just watch him walk away down the corridor of your apartment building and out of sight before getting ready to show your parents around Vancouver for the day.
You try to put the whole thing out of your mind throughout the day, showing your parents the sights of Vancouver, including the arena...but it's hard when they keep bringing Quinn back up and asking about your feelings. They probe you for half the day and it's emotionally exhausting balancing the truth with the half-truth, even more so knowing that they're going to be just as disappointed as you are when they realise your relationship with Quinn is just a sham, a charade, a fake.
Eventually they seem to grow bored of talking about the topic, however, and dinner goes relatively smoothly, you taking them to a nice restaurant Quinn had shown you back in your first couple of months in Vancouver. Even that feels bittersweet though, filled with memories of the two of you dining together. You can't help but feel like the whole issue needs addressing as you get them back home and pop a film on ready for Quinn's arrival.
When he arrives he continues the act as if it isn't one, greeting you at the door with a kiss to the cheek and pulling you down onto the loveseat opposite your parents, curling one arm around your shoulders and urging you to lay against him, your cheek pressed into his chest. In some ways it's familiar, not an act, because you cuddle for movies all time, completely platonically of course, but both of you are touchy feely and it's always been part of your dynamic. In others though? The way he talks to you, the pet names, kisses to your hair, that is all new, all a way to show your parents he's the 'doting boyfriend', even though he's not your boyfriend at all.
Your parents lap it up, every now and then you catch them smiling at each other and then over to the two of you and you can't help but feel heavy with it. With this feeling of unrequited affection. You love Quinn, you've known that for a while now, but it was easy to be around him because you didn't need to address it. You could love him in silence and from afar...you had never considered how hard it would become when what you wanted most was being dangled in front of you like a carrot on a string.
Quinn has a similar dilemma going on in his own head. He's always known he loved you more than a friend, even when you barely knew each other...had he been braver he would have asked for your number for a date that first day, not so that he could show you around a new city as a 'friend'. But, he'd been a coward and since then he'd continued to be. He enjoyed every ounce of affection he got from you, every hug, every cuddle, ever time you held his arm at an event, all while feeling like that had to be enough...now he's had more? He's not sure it'll ever be enough, he's greedy for you. Greedy for your affection, your attention, greedy in the way he wants to keep kissing you, keeping calling you sweet names and greedy for the way you grow bashful. Greedy for more than just being your friend...he's given himself a taste of what life could be like and now he can't forget it.
It's halfway through the movie, your legs slung over Quinn's lap and his fingers carding through the ends of your hair when your parents stand with a groan from the other couch.
"Princess?" You lift your head to look at your father, who's stretching out his back after sitting for so long.
"Yeah, dad?"
"Your mother and I are getting a little tired...we're going to go to bed, if that's alright with you two?"
"Of course, don't let us keep you up." Quinn confirms your own thoughts as well, telling your parents it's not problem at all. It's all so...so domestic.
Your dad presses a kiss to the top of your head, as does your mother, before yourself and Quinn wish them goodnight. You wait until you see the door to the spare room start to close, not waiting for it to do so fully, before turning to Quinn. You pull out of his arms, the missing warmth of you an immediate loss to him, but it has him sitting up straight and taking you seriously.
Your face is sullen, sad, eyebrows pinched, mouth turned down into a frown and he's alarmed to see that your eyes are glassy like you might cry.
"Why on earth would you let my parents think we're dating? Why would you tell my mother you're in love with me?" You're certain you're going to cry, angry, frustrated and sad all in one. Lovesick because it hurts to hear him tell your mother he was in love with you when you know he's not.
"Why not?" He frowns at you, hands reaching out but you keep just out of reach as if touching him is the last thing you want. You've never shied away from Quinn's touch and he recoils, breathing a little heavier out of anxious worry that he's upset you, that he's fucked this up. Maybe you've been uncomfortable with his touch all day? Has he been making you uncomfortable all day? Is he one of those guys?
"Because we're not dating and you're not in love with me, Quinn. My mother is certain we're going to get married and I'll stop being an old spinster! You're getting her hopes up." The unspoken words lay heavy on your tongue, 'you're getting my hopes up', you want to say.
"Who said I didn't love you? Who said I didn't want to marry you?" The look he gives you isn't the cheeky one he's had all day, it's not joking or silly, it's dead serious. He scoots closer to you, but doesn't reach out for you this time. But, Quinn can't help but want to be close to you, to be drawn into your orbit, into your gravity.
"Quinn..."
"What?"
"You're being mean..." Your voice is filled with tears, wet, pathetic sounding and you choke back a sob as a tear falls down your cheek because he's being so mean...he can't dangle that in front of you, everything you've ever wanted, not when he doesn't actually mean it.
He realises in that moment that you don't believe him. You believe he's spent the entire morning and evening telling lies, saying that he loves you when he doesn't, that you're that important to him when you aren't. You believe he's being mean because you don't believe him, that the tears are because you think he's holding this thing, this idea out in front of you, only to snatch it away.
"Look, I said a lot today...but none of it was a lie." He can't help himself this time, hand coming up to cup your cheek, thumb wiping away that pesky tear that shouldn't have been there in the first place. It's the way you lean into his touch that brings him a sense of confidence, of relief, you wouldn't do that if you didn't want him touching you.
"I know our first date wasn't a date, just a stupid family skate I was too scared to ask you out to as more than just a friend. I wish it had been a date and I wish I had been brave enough from the start to tell you I didn't just want to be your friend."
"Quinn..."
"And I was telling the truth...when your mother asked me when I fell in love with you." He tugs you closer, until your legs are back over his lap and your practically sitting on top of him, arms wrapping around your lower back and pulling you closer. The way he stares up at you is nothing short of reverent.
"Q..."
"The second week we knew each other you came to look after me when no one else did...and I knew...I knew that I was going to love you and that I was stupid for not asking you out in the first place...but I was...I was too scared to say anything. I didn't want to lose my new friend...I thought..." He hesitates, tongue coming out to nervously brush against his bottom lip, capturing your attention like a magpie with a shiny button.
"You thought?" You're whispering, quiet as if to speak any louder might scare him, might disrupt this little bubble you've found yourself in.
"I thought having a tiny bit of you...any bit, was better than having none of you at all." Quinn confesses, shifting you on his lap as your legs fall either side of his hips until you're so close your noses brush.
"Is it?"
"It was...for a bit..." It's self-deprecating, sardonic, like he finds himself ridiculous, foolish.
"And now?"
"And now I've had a taste of what it's like to love you, to be able to kiss you and hold you...call you mine...and now I'm greedy and it's not enough...Baby, it'll never be enough."
"You...you love me?" It's like even after all of this, everything he's said, every tender touch, you still don't quite believe him. It's hard to believe that everything you've ever wanted is sat in the palm of your hand just waiting for you to capture it, to take it. That your feelings, the ones you believed were unrequited for two years, were actually returned all along.
"I love you...and...um, if...if you'll have me, maybe I could be your real boyfriend this time?" His face is bright red, so warm to the touch when you're fingers reach out to trace his cheeks that you're surprised he doesn't combust.
"I'd like that...I...I love you too,"
"So...I'm your boyfriend?" He says it like he doesn't quite believe it, the beauty mark on his cheek moving as he grins up at you giddy like a little kid getting his first bag of sweets.
"You're my boyfriend." You press a kiss to that beauty mark without overthinking it...because you can now, because now it's not a lie when you tell your parents he's your boyfriend, because now you're allowed to kiss him and hold him and tell him how much you love him.
"Fuck...that sounds good."
He can't help but just stare up at you from where you're straddling his lap. The healthy glow to your skin, the soft smile directed down at him, the way you seem to curl into him like you're not close enough even now. God, you're beautiful and you're his...you're finally his and he's yours and...and he can't comprehend that the thing he wanted to happen for so long has finally happened. What had he been scared of all this time? He could have been with you for two years, instead he'd squandered it out of fear...
"Quinn?" Your voice is soft, melodic, so so sweet that almost closes his eyes at the sound.
"Yeah, baby?"
"Kiss me?" You whisper as if it's shameful to ask, as if you've asked for something more sordid than a simple kiss...your first kiss together at that.
"Anything for my girl."
He's gentle in the way he cups your neck and jaw with one large hand, thumb pressing just below your jaw bone as he pulls you in. There's nothing rushed about the way Quinn presses your lips together, the smooth glide of his bottom lip against your top. Even the way his tongue brushes against your lip until you open up for him is slow, steady, adoring. You can't help the way you sigh into him, fingers gliding through dark chocolate strands, eyes closing shut with the sense of home, sense of relief that you find in him.
The two of you lose yourselves in each other, slow kisses, wandering hands, nothing too extreme, but a new found intimacy that you're finally allowed to indulge in before you curl back up together to watch the remainder of the movie. Watch being a loose term for what you're really doing.
"Did you know?" Your father turns his eyes away from the scene outside the spare bedroom, the way you're curled up in Quinn's arms like you were always supposed to be there. Neither of you realising that the spare bedroom door had never fully closed, both your parents eavesdropping like Samwise Gamgee.
"That they weren't actually together, dear?" Your mother looks sly and devious as she looks over at her husband. The face of the woman he loves, but also fears in equal measure.
"Yes."
"Of course I knew...but I figured they could both use a shove in the right direction, I mean, look at them?" Your parents both turn to watch the two of you, the way you curl up together on the couch is the epitome of young love. There's no real watching of a movie happening, instead Quinn's fingers are rubbing circles into your shoulder, while you look up at him lovingly from where you're curled against his chest. Every now and then he dips his head down to press a kiss against your forehead, and each time you giggle, face pressing briefly into his neck. The giddy feeling of a new, fresh love, making film watching the least of your interests.
"They just needed a little push." Both your parents smile at each other even as your father playfully scolds his wife, "You're a meddlesome woman."
"And you love me for it."
"Yes, yes I do."
Perhaps it took a bit of meddling, a fake misunderstanding, but that would be their little secret...at least for now. Your mother was rather looking forward to seeing you squirm in the future as you reveal the truth, that you hadn't actually been dating Quinn as long as you said. Yes, she certainly was happy to help, but she also was still your mother and lying to your mother was certainly not the done thing. A little squirming was good for you sometimes, but first, she'd let you enjoy the fresh bloom of love...and she'd go easy on you.
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Its been two weeks since the last earth-shaking explosion rattled the bunker my family has been holed up in during the war. The past three years have felt like a blur, a monotonous chant that I can't even remember the words to.
Most days consisted of mom quietly humming as she swept away the dirt, her hair seemingly becoming more gray and frazzled each time the bunker rumbled and dirt fell from the ceiling, extending the chore like a never ending loop. My younger brother spent most of his time playing through my old DS games, not like we had internet the moment the first bomb dropped. The first few weeks he would ask "How much longer" hourly and he seemed restless, complaining about the processed food and canned veggies we had to sustain on. As the weeks turned to months, eventually years he too became silent.
I remember my dad, explaining to Mom the action plan, helping us pack our emergency bags and sending us on our way. He told us he would see us soon, but I think we all lost hope within the first few months, even though my mom still tells my brother how Dad will be so happy to see us when we finally reunite on the surface
"This is different," I remember Dad's words as he looked up to the sky before seeing us off, "I promise you will be safe, I promise I will see you soon." With one last bear hug, off we went. Somewhere in the middle of nowhere after hours of driving Mom pulled off to the side of the road. The Pacific-northwest wilderness all around us.
"Where are we?" I looked up from my phone, immediately noticing the tears running down her cheeks, "...Mom?"
"We have to walk the rest of the way," she said, obviously trying to keep her voice from trembling. "Your dad has left markers, he told me I would recognize them."
She took a deep breath, "Grab your brother and your bags, I'll get the first aid kits and the rest of the supplies."
We got out and I opened the back seat, "Come on, Cam," unbuckling him from the car seat. He was so much smaller, only five when it all ended. "Time to walk!"
We trekked through the cold for what seemed like hours in one direction and then my mom stopped.
"There," she pointed at a pine off to the right, etched into it were to letters. "N + C" I immediately recognized mine and Cameron's initials.
As we walked towards it I could see Mom's eyes darting around, scanning quickly and taking in every detail of the area, "Nic, I need you to help me find-" she cut off as in the distance she points at another tree with the same initials, "There!" she started running, "Look for them, Nic, we need to go!"
We followed tree after tree for miles, and eventually came to a clearing with a large boulder in the middle. My mother has been a stay at home mom for as long as I can remember, but she began digging around the pine needles and dirt at the base of the rock, as if years of training were kicking in.
Finally with an "Aha!" and some tugging at the base of it, a small tremor began, a hatch lifted about twenty feet away.
"Nic, I know we haven't explained much to you at this point, but I need you to be strong, your fifteen now and I don't know how long we are going to be here." Mom looked both terrified and stern at the same time, "We will be here until Dad comes and gets us, there is a very big war that is about to happen. Do you understand?"
I looked into the shadows beyond the hatch, "Are we mole people now?"
A small wave of humor wiped across her face "Nic, this is not the time for jokes, but yes"
Ever since then the bunker has been home. We listened and waited, stocks of canned and dehydrated goods sustaining us as the ground shook around us day after day for years. When the first day came without a bomb being dropped I don't think any of us realized, after three days Mom put Cameron down for bed and motioned for me to follow her out of the small bunk room we shared.
"Its been days now, do you think its safe?" My voice was raspy, I couldn't remember the last time I spoke aloud. Weeks? Months?
"I-I don't know," she turned to me with same terrified stern look she had two years before. I realized the pressure we were under, and not just from being fifty feet below the surface. "We need to wait until your father-"
"Mom, when are you going to stop acting as if he survived? We need to figure this out." Did anyone else survive? Who won the war? How long do we wait.
"Nic, it is very important that we wait, your dad is a very resourceful man and if he said he will come to us then I believe him" She walked towards the ladder in the corner of the room and looked up from where we climbed down.
"How long?" I asked bluntly, "How long do we sit here hiding before we accept he didn't survive? Something up there has been shaking us out in the middle of nowhere for years" I start to realize the time we've spent in the dark, disconnected, "There are so many things that could be happening and we cannot guarantee anything!"
"Two weeks." she said, without looking away from the only way up. "I will wait two weeks, and if no more tremors we can go to the surface. I will go to the surface and check if its safe."
Here I am, two weeks later trying to sleep as anxiety rips through me and what is going to happen tomorrow when we wake up. Will it be safe? Is there anyone left? Slowly as I drift to sleep, these unanswered questions exhausting me I feel a small tug. No, not a tug, a lift, as if a small wave pulled me above water briefly. My eyes snap open and I look at the battery clock next to my bunk, its time.
I walk out and I see my mom standing in the main room, dressed as if she had somewhere to go for the first time in months, and she did.
"I'm going up," she said, "Watch Cameron and I'll be right back down." She picked up a small device off the kitchen table, turning it on made it click and whistle, then silence. "I need to see if we are in danger from radiation."
She grabs the metal ladder, her foot on the first rung, "If its safe, we need to hope the car is where we left it otherwise we will be walking for a while" she began to climb up into the darkness.
After about ten minutes when I heard the hatch opening echo down the tunnel and again I felt the tug, stronger this time. It felt as if I was standing in the ocean and a wave tried to lift me off of my feet, I felt a tingling sensation course though me and release as if shooting out of my fingertips. When I heard the hatch close the sensation almost immediately cut off, "Shit." I said aloud, thinking to myself it must be radiation. I grew more and more anxious as I heard Mom's steps get closer and closer to the bottom until she appeared from the dark.
"Its-" She paused, turning around her face looking like a mix of confused and stressed, "Its clear, no traces at all."
Then what was that feeling? I must've looked a certain way while thinking and Mom read me like a book.
"I don't know what the was when I opened the hatch, Nic, but you're right. We cannot sit and wait until our food supply is gone, we need to find help." She grabs our bags and sets them on the table, quickly gathering supplies. "Go get Cameron ready."
We gather everything and I get Cameron dressed, he asks a hundred questions I don't have the answer to and I just keep telling him we need to go back to the car. Finally, we get go up. Mom first, then Cameron, then me. Slowly making our way through the dark until Mom stops below the hatch. Our dimly lit abode below us looks like a small speck five stories below us.
"My arms hurt!" Cameron whines.
"Give me just a sec to-hah! Found it!" The hatch clicks and Mom pushes it open letting in a burst of light and fresh air. My body feels light again, a sudden rush pushes me and I feel like I'm going to shoot straight up like a cork in a bottle.
We crawl out and everything looks surprisingly familiar. The air feels crisp with a slight tinge of fall and wet pine needles to give me an idea of the time of year. The sensation continues to pull me upwards, I feel pressure building as if I'm a balloon being pushed under water. The tingling sensation feels as if it is concentrated on the tips of my fingers and I look down and-
"Mom, what's going on!?" I hold up my hand and as I do sparks begin to shoot from it, no pain only pressure.
"I-I don't know Nic, are you ok? Does it hurt?" She looks horrified, "Shake it off!"
I start shaking my hand, I feel tears welling up even though I don't feel hurt, just scared. The sparks fade. I look down at my hand and see light blue lines tracing along my veins and fading up my arm. I reach out and the outlines pulse as if alive. My hand is no longer shooting sparks and I move my fingers to make sure everything is ok. They meet friction when I move them, something that feels almost like my old guitar strings pushing against my fingers, a clump of chords in my hand when I ball it into a fist. I reach out slowly and run my index finger down as if to strum the invisible instrument, quickly with each passing chord, a faint blue line lights up as I move downward, one by one lighting up and fading fast behind.
I take a step forward, and besides the pressure inside my chest, there is nothing stopping me moving. I take a swing with my hand and like a harp, the faint chords appear vertically behind the motion, fading as quickly as they appeared.
A voice rings through my mind, a voice like music.
"You have a natural talent, you understand the magic coursing through you as a beautiful song waiting to be played"
"Who are you?!" I say aloud.
"Nic, who are you talking to?" Mom looks so scared, Cam looks up at me, his eyes bright with curiosity.
"Its been a long time since I have been awake in this world, so many voices, too many for me to handle. At last I can hear the music through all of the noise!"
"If you don't tell me who you are, I-I-" I stammer out, not knowing what I would do if the voice doesn't give me an answer.
"Calm down, child. I am not here to hurt you, in fact I am your savior, your muse. Soon you will understand, soon you will play such beautiful songs for me, you will compose symphonies for my orchestra. For I, child, am Mystra."
The magic weave is real, every human pulls from it. But the vast Ocean that is the weave is not infinite and as the human population rises the power one can pull from the weave becomes almost non existent. Earth just faced a apocalyptic event that wiped out 80% of humanity and you feel the weave
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Aim for the Sky Part 34 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Maverick makes time to have a conversation with Bradley, but you've already lost faith in him. Your words hurt him more than anything else could.
Warnings: Angst, adult language, body image, DILF Roo, pregnancy, jealousy
Length: 3500 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.
When the mattress dipped and you felt the bedding shift around your legs, you opened your eyes to find Bradley climbing out of bed. The room was still dark, but his face was illuminated by his phone screen. The baby was thumping against your tender insides, making you wince, and your husband was playing around on his phone in the middle of the night. Or texting someone.
"What are you doing?" you croaked. Bradley's gaze snapped toward your face, and he leaned down to pull the covers to your shoulder.
"Uh, I need to head to base a little early," he whispered, tracing your cheek with his thumb. "To meet with Mav."
"What time is it?" you asked, rolling toward him to see his phone.
"Almost six," he replied, kissing your forehead as he tipped his screen away. "I love you. Try to get some more sleep."
You swallowed hard, rolling away from him as he started pulling his uniform from the closet. The rustle of fabric set your nerves on edge, and you squeezed your eyes shut as he got dressed. Maybe he thought you fell asleep again, because he didn't say another word before he left the room. But you were pretty sure you heard him stop in Rose's nursery before leaving the house.
Now you were wide awake and alone. Your phone told you it was 5:28 which was completely absurd. Neither you nor Bradley ever got to base before 8:00 unless you were working your ass off on a project.
He used Maverick as his excuse which seemed ridiculous. Bradley wasn't in the middle of training for a special mission which would require extra hours before daylight. And he had to know Maverick would only cover for him for so long.
You sat up and laughed miserably. Your husband was lying to you. And you thought you knew what he was lying about. Tears filled your eyes as your hand rested on your belly where your younger daughter was moving around. Why was Bradley doing this to the three of you?
It wasn't like you couldn't tell how bad you looked at the moment. You knew it. You were bloated and chunky and broken out, but it was at least half his fault you were pregnant again in the first place. And you would make it a priority to get in shape after she was born. You would.
Your fingers were curled around the sheets, trying to keep yourself on your side of the bed, but you crawled toward Bradley's nightstand anyway. The lamp was too bright, taking your eyes a beat to adjust. You yanked the drawer open which offered almost no insight to anything except his Nugget Notebook with the pink and blue striped cover. But then you saw something underneath it.
You grabbed the second notebook, this one bright pink, and pulled it from the drawer. Only the first few pages were covered in his writing, but you soaked the words up greedily.
To my second daughter, you are the third love of my life. I realize that sounds a little unfair, like you're coming in third place, but I promise that's not that case. It's only because I met your mom and your sister first. You're not even here yet, but I already know I love you just as much as I love them. And I can't wait to meet you, too.
Before I get carried away, let me introduce myself. I'm your dad. It's my job to love you and take care of you. I'm not perfect, but I love you so much, I'll always try my best to be here for anything you need. To be honest, I never expected to have a family at all. And to be extra honest, you were a bit of a surprise. But a very good surprise. My favorite kind of surprise. I can't wait to teach you everything I know, which isn't much, but I do know how to love my three girls.
"How?" you gasped, dropping the notebook back into the drawer. You sobbed into Bradley's pillow, unable to make sense of this. How was the man who wrote notebook passages to his children the same man who was sneaking around behind your back. With Indigo. It simply did not make sense, but both versions of him seemed to exist at the same time. And somehow you were the one who was more at odds with yourself than he was with himself.
You could feel the love he had for his daughters. It was so obvious. He was so good with Rose, and he seemed excited about having two kids.
You weren't sure if you'd be able to kick him out. You didn't know if you could leave him. If push came to shove, you didn't know if you could be that strong. You wished he wasn't making you consider it at all.
--------------------------
"Oh, God."
Bradley was awake as soon as Maverick replied to his text at five in the morning. He'd barely been able to sleep anyway, but when Maverick told Bradley he was heading to Lemoore in a few hours for a meeting, he begged his godfather to meet with him first.
Now Bradley was sitting in his office in a silent building waiting for any help he could get. As far as he had worked out, Indigo had been devouring his extra attention for weeks for a less savory reason than he originally thought. All the times she invited him out for a drink left him shaking his head while he stared at the wedding photo perched in his desk.
He never tried to hide the fact that he was married. He fucking flaunted it. You were perfect; why wouldn't he? If someone else thought they had a gorgeous wife? Ha, Bradley could lay it down in spades. Someone else claimed their wife was smart? Well, his was a goddamn genius. Someone wanted to brag about their kids? All he had to do was pull up a photo of Rose, and he had everyone around him swooning.
He found it easier to make small talk about his family than anything else these days, and he was sure Indigo knew he was married before he even left Texas to fly back to San Diego. It still seemed unlikely she wanted to sleep with him, but he wasn't going to deny that Nat was usually right about these things.
"Oh, God," Bradley groaned for probably the tenth time since he woke up. He wanted to rewind and go back to Texas and never select Indigo in the first place.
But would that have been fair? To leave her behind when she was the best? When she was clearly one of the pilots who should be moving forward with new programs? It wasn't like she ever touched him. Other than persistently inviting him for drinks and showing up for all of his office hours, she never made an advance. But now he was uncomfortable. There was something about the way she always looked at him that.....yeah, Nat was right.
But if Bradley couldn't handle his first assignment in his new position, how was he supposed to prove he could do this going forward?
There was a knock on his already open door, and Maverick stood there looking perplexed. "Bradley? What did you need that couldn't wait until later this week?"
Bradley groaned again as he stood. "Can you shut the door?"
"Sure."
Maverick let it slip from his fingers, and Bradley waited until the echo of the door closing gave way to silence. He could feel his godfather's gaze on his face as his eyes closed. He swallowed hard, not wanting to waste the other man's time, but now that he was here, he felt so stupid.
"I need your help," Bradley rasped, voice hoarse as his eyes opened. "It's work related."
"Okay," Maverick replied, voice between a statement and a question. "What can I do?"
Bradley's fingers curled around the edge of his desk as he looked down at his phone sitting there. "Uh...Mav, this is embarrassing."
When Maverick took a step closer, he reached across the desk to cuff Bradley on the shoulder. "Just hit me with it."
Bradley took a long breath and let it out slowly. "There's another officer who... well, it's been brought to my attention that she..." He let go of his desk and rubbed his fingertips against his eyes. "There's a chance my wife thinks something's going on between me and another officer on base. One who reports to me."
Maverick's expression gave nothing away, but he shifted his weight from one foot to the other before taking a step away from Bradley. "To be clear, Bradley, are you asking me to help you hide an indiscretion from your wife?"
Bradley's head tilted slightly. "Huh?" he grunted, thoughts already swirling around his mind so rapidly, it took him a few seconds to catch up. "What the fuck, Mav? No!" he gasped. "An indiscretion?" He could barely even say the word as he shook his head. "No. God, no! Nothing happened! Nothing is ever going to happen!"
He realized he was shouting when Maverick's hands flew into the air in surrender. "Okay. Alright. I hear you loud and clear. I just needed to be sure I understand what we're dealing with here. Why don't you have a seat and explain everything to me?"
Bradley was raking his fingers through his hair as he dropped down into his chair. "It's Lieutenant Jeffries. Indigo." Her intense blue eyes filled his mind as he shook his head. "Phoenix and Hangman pointed out that she..." He paused and glanced at the ceiling. "This is so embarrassing, Mav, but they said it seems like she wants to sleep with me."
"Hmm."
When Maverick hummed and went silent, Bradley said, "I know how ridiculous it sounds."
"It doesn't," his godfather replied immediately. "This sort of thing happens sometimes. You said nothing happened? You should keep your distance moving forward, and if she contacts you outside of work or does anything inappropriate, we can write it up."
Bradley groaned miserably, unlocked his phone, and pushed it across the desk with his messages open. "She did text me outside of work."
While Maverick reached for the phone, he said, "Did you give her your number?"
"No. Why would I do that?" he replied. "But honestly, it's not hard to get access to that kind of information. I didn't think much of it the first time."
Maverick shrugged. "Well, what did she text-" His eyes grew wide when he looked down at the phone, his cheeks turning pink as he was surely looking at the photo that had been in Bradley's messages for less than twelve hours.
"Yeah," Bradley croaked. "She sent that last night."
"But she texted you before that. When you never explicitly gave her your number." Maverick looked up at him, shaking his head. "Bradley, what were you thinking? She seems to have some sort of agenda. You should have come to me immediately after the first message."
Bradley stood, stomach lurching. His marriage, career, and reputation were somehow all on the line, and he hadn't even done anything. He couldn't help but think of his parents and the fact that his dad probably never put his mom through this kind of shit when she was seven months postpartum.
"An agenda?" Bradley whispered. "Shit, Mav. This is the kind of thing that happens on carriers. Not on base. I thought this was something men did way more than women when they wanted to cheat."
Maverick handed his phone back across the desk with the photo of Indigo open. Bradley swiped out of the text thread immediately, sick to his stomach.
"You work in a high stakes field where women routinely outperform men. They are capable of anything you are."
"I know that!" Bradley snapped. "But I'm married! I'm not looking for that shit. I never let on that I was."
"Oh, you sweet summer child," Maverick sighed, checking his watch. "Literally," he added as he dug his own phone from his pocket. "If Lieutenant Jeffries is sending you photos and playing coy, she doesn't care about your wife."
Bradley winced. "Fuck."
"Yeah," Maverick grunted, taking a few steps toward the door. "And your wife is pregnant and vulnerable, and now I'm going to have to tell Admiral Simpson that I'll be late getting to Lemoore. Follow me. And bring your phone."
-------------------------------------
Bradley was late getting home. This was happening almost every night now, and you were hanging on by a thread as Rose screamed in your arms. She was fed, but she always seemed to prefer the way Bradley burped her over your technique.
"He's not here," you said through gritted teeth. "I don't know where he is or when he'll be back. I just need you to burp so you can go to sleep."
Your texts had gone unanswered. You weren't sure if Bradley had been in the cafeteria at lunchtime, because you hid in your office. Dinnertime had come and gone, and his cold plate of food was currently sitting on the kitchen counter.
"I don't know where he is," you repeated to your daughter while her younger sister did somersaults against your bladder. Rose's sobs finally started to taper off as you rubbed your hand firmly against her back. She finally burped, and that seemed to do the trick. Her fists curled up next to her face as she yawned. You barely had enough time to change her into a clean diaper and pajamas before her eyes were closed.
You were mentally, physically, and emotionally drained. You stood in her nursery, watching her sleep while you decided you needed to say something to your husband tonight. There was no way you could keep punishing yourself for not being enough. If he wanted someone else, you deserved to have him say it to your face.
But when you heard him open the front door thirty minutes later, your heart lurched into your stomach at the sight of him. You'd known how handsome he was since the day you met him, and he only seemed to get better looking with age. Each year added more silver to his hair and laugh lines to his face, but he was undeniably sexy.
Today, however, he looked exhausted, and your brain went wild with awful ideas. What had he gotten up to? Why was he so late? The top buttons of his uniform were undone, and his hair was mussed. He was staring down at his phone in his hand while you stood silently at the end of the hallway, terrified of what he was looking at.
Suddenly everything you'd been holding inside for weeks was bubbling up to the surface, and you were done holding it back. You cleared your throat, and his gaze snapped up to your face, phone hanging in his hand by his side.
"Hey, Sweetheart. Is Rosie already asleep?"
You nodded, taking each step slowly until you were standing right in front of him. When he reached for you, his fingers skimmed your shoulder before you pushed his hand away. Those beautiful, brown eyes you loved so much went wide, but he didn't look surprised. Not at all.
"Why are you so late?" you snapped. "And don't feed me some bullshit about office hours, because I know your schedule. Or, at least, I know what they are supposed to be."
Bradley licked his lips, gesturing between the two of you with his phone. "I had to take care of something important with Maverick."
You wanted to laugh in his face. "You're really going to use the same excuse as this morning? Another meeting with Maverick? What, one was at the crack of dawn and the other was after dinnertime? I've been texting you for hours, Bradley."
You watched his Adam's apple bob. "I didn't have my phone with me for part of the day."
"You have it now!" you laughed sardonically, pointing at his hand just in time to see his phone light up.
It was her. You saw her name there. Indigo. She was texting your husband well after work hours, and you could already feel the tears stinging your eyes.
You grabbed his phone before he seemed to realize what was happening. Your fingers shook as you entered his passcode to find it was still your birthday. He wasn't even trying to hide this from you. He wasn't trying to take his phone back. As you braced yourself for what you were about to see, you whispered, "What the fuck is going on with her?"
His brown eyes were so sincere, and once again, you couldn't understand how this was the same man who wrote journals for his unborn children. "Nothing," he replied, voice taking on a tone of defeated exhaustion. "There's nothing going on."
Your eyes dipped down to his phone to find not one, but two flirtatious selfies. One new one, and one that was sent last night while he was working out in the garage. Indigo's eyes stared back at you from the screen, mocking you, making a fool of your family.
You were crying. You didn't want Bradley to see you cry right now, but you couldn't stop. "This doesn't look like nothing. And you didn't tell her to stop."
Now he looked panicked, eyes wide as he saw the photo on his phone in your hand. "Okay, I know this looks bad, but I reported it, I swear! I've never been alone with her behind closed doors. You can call Mav!"
Violent sobs shook your body, and when Bradley slowly let his hand settle on your arm, you shook him free. "You expect me to believe nothing is going on? When you get home late every day? When she told me that it's no wonder you prefer her since I let myself go?" you gasped, swiping at your tears.
"What?" Bradley barked as you blindly handed his offending phone back to him. "She said that to you?"
You nodded miserably, taking a step away from him. "I don't want to know if you said that to her, or if she formed her own opinion after spending time with you. And I don't want to know if you're fucking her or just considering it. But I want you out of the house."
Bradley looked like you just slapped him. His mouth was hanging open, brow creased while you sobbed. "You want me out?" he whispered, hand going up to rake his fingers through his hair.
"Yes," you squeaked, trying to stay strong not just for yourself, but for your daughters as well. Every word hurt as you forced them out of your mouth, but you had to say them. "Go. Until I can talk to my parents about canceling the sale of their house. I'll transfer to Annapolis. Take the girls with me."
Bradley closed the distance to you, tears already pooling in his eyes as he dropped to his knees. His lips found your belly, and you sobbed harder as he wrapped his hands around your hips. "No. You can't," he said so softly, you could barely hear him. When he looked up at your face, you almost believed he would never be capable of hurting you. "Baby Girl, you can't leave me. I need you. I need my girls."
When you stepped out of his grasp, his arms fell limply to his sides. You'd never seen him look so miserable before, and you had to stand firm instead of reaching for his hands.
"Find somewhere else to sleep."
The implications of your own words stung your heart, and you had to watch him slowly get to his feet. He kissed your forehead, and your eyes blurred with fresh tears when he went down the hallway to Rose's room. Less than a minute passed, but each second felt like a day. You had plenty of time to tell him the truth. That you didn't want him to leave. That you couldn't blame him for wanting someone else, and you still needed him as much as he said he needed you.
When he reappeared, you pressed your lips together even as he kissed your damp cheek. "I love you," he rasped. "I'm never going to stop loving you. I'll figure out some way to make you believe me."
You watched him retreat to the front door with his keys, shoulders sagging as he gave you one last lingering look before slipping out into the darkness.
------------------------------------
Ouch. Ouch. Okay. I want BG to believe Roo beyond any doubt, and I think I know how to make that happen. Please stay tuned. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls
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#bradley bradshaw x reader#rooster fanfiction#rooster imagine#rooster x you#rooster x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw imagine#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw x you#bradley bradshaw imagine#bradley bradshaw#bradley bradshaw fanfiction#bradley bradshaw fic#top gun fanfiction#top gun maverick fanfiction#top gun imagine#top gun maverick imagine#roosterforme#aim for the sky
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Dead batteries.
Jason Todd x deaf!reader
Summary: The reader's batteries to her hearing aids die. Dinner at the Wayne Manor was supposed to go smoothly.
Summary: anything that they sign is going to be in bold italics
Warnings: cursing, insensitivity to being deaf, the whole story not being proofread, Jason being Jason
Masterlist
........................................................
"Baby," Jason's voice called through the apartment. He shrugged off his coat, small concern running through him when there was no answer. He knew she was home.
He began to walk through the apartment on edge. His gun was tucked against his back in his waistband. Just in case. Just in case.
He threw the bedroom door open, startling both of them. "Fuck. Sorry," he apologizes with a hand up in surrender. As he took her in, he frowned. "Where are your hearing aids?" He signed.
"Dead," she signed back. "Ordering more." She gestured to the computer next to her.
He nodded, taking out each weapon from his jeans (which was a lot), placing them on the nightstand, and joining her on the bed. He pulled her into his side, looking over her shoulder. "Until Thursday?" He whispered to himself. "That's a lifetime."
She felt his breath and craned her neck to look at him questioningly. He shook his head. When she didn't let up, he messily signed, "Long time to be without batteries."
She nodded.
"What about your backups?"
She set her computer down, sitting up to properly sign. "Haven't used in years. Better to go without."
"Some backups," he grumbled.
"Will your family be mad?"
"What?"
She sighed. "Dinner tonight."
He mouthed an 'oh.' "No. And if so, I would-"
She placed her hands over his, interrupting his threat.
…
Y/n!" Damien greeted, practically shoving Jason to the side. "I have to tell you about the guy I caught last night. It was so cool! Listen, so I jumped out of the Batmobile-"
"-Damien," Jason sighs.
"-And it was like 'whoosh,' and I was like all cool and stuff-"
"Damien, she c-"
"And I chased him down this alley-"
Jason watched Y/n's eyes hold the panic inside her as she tried to follow what the kid was saying, but with his energetic motions, she was catching minimal words out of the jumble. Jason pushed Damien's head to the side. "Listen to me when I talk. Damn."
"I'm not even talking to you," Damien argued, going right back to his story.
"She can't hear anything. Her aids are out."
Damien froze. "Oh."
Damien was the only one in the Batfamily that had yet to pick up sign language. With Cass, they had all begun to learn. And with the addition of Y/n, it quickly became intermixed with their everyday speech. Being a later addition to the family, Damien was slowly picking it up. Very slowly.
Y/n gave him a sorry expression. "Sorry. The batteries are coming Thursday."
He held a hand up. "Woah, woah, woah. I can't hear you when you do that."
Jason huffed. "Go away, demon brat."
"I'll go when I'm ready," he sassed. "So I'll go now because I have nothing else to say. Not cause you told me to."
…
Dinner was a mix of speech and sign language, the family (for once) having a nice dinner.
Jason and Dick had found amusement in signing across Damien, acting like they were saying something top secret that he couldn't know. In reality, it was just random words like, "time, death,, cookie, day." To which Jason responded with, "leave doctor, dad." And then the two would bust up into hearty laughs, watching Damien turn red.
But the rest of the table ignored it.
"There's a new thing we're working on down in the cave. Wanna see after dinner?" Tim asked with his head down.
Steph heaved a heavy sigh, physically pushing his head up so Y/n could see his face. "Now actually ask."
"Sorry," he smiled with his cheeks full.
Alfred tapped on Y/n's shoulder, waiting until she turned around to speak.
Jason watched her face morph to complete confusion. She had always had problems understanding Alfred's accent. "Deaf," he muttered at Alfred.
"Oh," Alfred flushed. "Forgive me." He began to sign his question.
"She didn't even answer my question," Tim complained.
"She turned away before you finished," Steph reprimanded him.
"I got this," Damien gloated. He hit his fist on the table until he caught Y/n's attention. He spoke in a loud tone. "TIM ASKED IF-"
Jason's hand appeared out of nowhere, swallowing the kid's entire face and muffling him. He began shoving down until Damien had no choice but to go under the table. "I'll fucking kill you if you scream at her again."
"Jason," Bruce reprimanded.
"No, you favor the little shit." He ran a hand over his face. "Do I have to write it across her forehead for you guys to remember? Can't fucking do this-"
…
Dinner went smoothly after a 'Hello, I am' name tag was stuck to her shirt, the blank line reading "deaf" in Jason's messy handwriting. Bruce always had those for galas.
But the car ride back home was rather silent. Hard to sign in the dark.
Once back inside their apartment, Jason had practically ripped the tag off her shirt. Just the sight of it annoyed him.
"Sorry we left early," she signed with a guilty expression.
He shrugged, pulling her jacket off and hanging it up. There wasn't much to say. They both knew that it had nothing to do with her. 'Love you,' he mouthed as an answer. He pointed at the book she'd left on the counter. "Leaving for patrol soon. Read while I'm gone?"
She nodded. "Almost done with it."
He nodded back.
The two stood in the living room, just admiring one another. His arms opened and she all but melted into them.
He forced her head up so he could talk. 'Be good for me while I'm gone?' He mouthed.
She gave him a grin, mouthing back 'yeah.'
'Good.' He pulled her chin forward, connecting their lips with a softness that Jason was never thought to have.
...............................................
#jason todd fluff#jason todd x reader#jason todd fanfiction#jason todd fic#jason todd#jason todd x deaf!reader#jason todd x you#jason todd x y/n#fanfiction#red hood imagine#red hood x reader#red hood fic#red hood fanfiction#red hood#red hood x you#red hood x y/n#batman fanfiction#batman fic#batman#bat family#drew drools over jason todd
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okay yes 'we can't be friends' links to ex bf! sukuna
in the sense that he keeps texting you about random shit or sending texts thinking you're jin and you're like ??? but he's like 'oh my mistake'
then he starts to call asking stupid questions or pretending like he accidentally called you when in reality he just wants to hear your voice.
he keeps texting you about so-called stuff you have left behind (you left nothing it's a plot to get you to come over)
so when you're standing in the doorway to his apartment for another wrong call about a shirt you supposedly left, you feel like this is the time to clear it all up.
'sukuna we can't be friends.'
he frowns. 'what do you mean?'
'I mean it, you need to stop calling and texting me over every little thing. if you see something of mine and i haven't asked for it back then maybe it's a sign you should throw it out. it's not good to keep in contact.'
sukuna shrugs, attempting to seem confused. 'I just don't want you complaining that you left something.'
'I'm not. and i won't ever because i have my things.' you state. 'if this is it then please don't call or text me again.'
ouch.
it's like a punch to his gut. or like his blood stopped circulating. his body turns numb and his throat closes up; unable to say anything in response as you say your goodbyes and leave sukuna standing alone in the doorway.
he mulls over your words. 'we can't be friends'
and the sinking feeling in his chest returns. like he's underwater and unable to come back to the surface for air, the weight of your words pulling him down. you've left him in pieces, in a daze, and you don't even care.
he shuts his door behind him and leans back with a sigh.
any other person would give up and move on. any other person would remove your number and vow to never contact you again.
but not sukuna.
no, he'll wait.
he'll wait for your love to come back round again. he'll wait until you like him again, waiting for your love.
because your love will come back. it always does.
right?
#okay im going to bed#i promise#last little angst#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen#sukuna x reader#sukuna jjk#ryomen sukuna#sukuna ryomen#sukuna x reader fluff#sukuna x you#jjk headcanons#jjk x reader#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen sukuna#jjk x gender neutral reader
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Hi! I love your fics sm
Please don't feel obliged if this makes you uncomfortable, but I was wondering if you wouldn't mind writing something where reader has vaginismus and the driver is so sweet about it :3
For Max or Oscar (but I don't really mind any of them tbh)
Max was the best boyfriend anyone could ask for. He was incredibly patient and understanding. Frustratingly so.
Warnings: smut, talk about vaginismus, oral, fingering, improper medical procedures
Disclaimer: people with vaginismus have different experiences with the condition, this fic is vaguely based on a friend of mine's experience, do NOT do what is described in this fic, if you are seeking treatment then talk to a doctor because this is NOT the proper treatment method IT IS FICTION… that being said, enjoy the filth.
You'd been scared to tell Max about your condition at first.
All your other relationships had fizzled out because the guys were either too impatient or annoyed, or disgusted with you.
Which is why you expected Max to be the same. But you couldn't have been more wrong.
You sat him down one day, texting him beforehand to warn him that you had something serious to talk to him about.
He tapped his fingers on the table while you made some coffee.
Once the steaming mugs were in front of you, you just came out with it.
“I have a condition, called Vaginismus”
Max just blinked, which made you smile at his clueless face.
“Do you know what that is?” you asked.
“Uhh… no” he scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment. He didn't like not knowing things.
“That's okay. It's quite rare. It's a condition that makes sex painful, or at least difficult if it’s not treated properly”
He nodded.
“And basically it's an involuntary response to penetration. The muscles contract and it can be painful…”
His brows furrowed.
“So how do you… do you have sex?”
You huffed out a laugh. “Well not since we've been together, but yes I have had sex before, but most of the time it didn't work”
He blushed. “And have you tried, you know… treatments?”
You took a sip of coffee before answering.
“I started. Sometimes it works, but it takes time and effort.”
“Okay…” he muttered. “So it's just penetration that is painful?”
You nodded.
“So I can eat you out?”
Your eyebrows shot up in surprise.
“I- yes. Yes, I suppose you can.”
He got up and walked over to you and held out his hand.
“What, now?” you asked incredulously.
He shrugged.
“Unless you don't want to?”
You were taken aback by his attitude.
“That's it? You don't want to know more? You're not… disgusted?”
He stroked your cheek with his thumb.
“Why would I be disgusted. It's not like you can control it. As long as you are happy, I am happy. And if you want to try treatments, that's up to you. I'm not going to force you. I have a fully functioning hand, and as long as I can bring you pleasure in other ways, I'm good”
Tears sprung to your eyes and he melted, getting down on his knees and stroking your thighs.
“What is it? Did I say something wrong?”
You shook your head. “You're the first man to not react badly. You really are the one”
He blushed even darker at that.
“Well let's see if I can make you come with my mouth, then you can decide”
It was your turn to blush. He led you to the bedroom and lay you down on the bed, dragging your clothes off and admiring your body.
“Fucking perfect. Can't wait to devour you”
You scoffed at his cliché choice of words and he smirked.
He spread your legs, licking his lips as he gazed at your already glistening cunt. It was all his, and he was going to prove to you he was worth it.
He licked a stripe up your folds and you shivered.
His eyes were on yours the whole time, studying your reactions, every twitch of your hips for any indication that he was doing a good job.
He brought his hand up to thumb at your clit lazily while he took a quick breather.
“Wait, I can't finger you can I?”
You blinked at him.
“Uhh… not at the moment, no”
He nodded, taking it in his stride. “What about my tongue?”
You groaned and he smirked up at you, proud that he was getting you this flustered already.
“Yes, your tongue should be fine”
He dove back in gleefully, happy to have new information.
You felt his tongue prod at your entrance and you gasped.
He mistook that for discomfort so he retreated.
"No” you begged, your hands going to thread in his hair to hold him there. “Keep going, it feels good”
Max hummed and continued, pushing his tongue further inside you, and his nose bumped your clit every time.
He quickly figured out how to use that to his advantage, and he rubbed it against your clit with purpose every time he pushed his tongue inside you.
You took an embarrassingly short time to come after that.
Once Max had figured out the fastest way to make you come, it became a daily ritual.
And the absolute sweetheart was doing as much research as he could to understand your condition, and how to treat it.
He didn’t push you though. If you wanted to seek treatment that was your business.
So he waited, and was perfectly happy to eat you out every day for the rest of his life if that's what was required of him.
But a few weeks later you sat him down again. This time on the couch, and you were next to him with your legs over his lap as you chatted.
“So I have some news…” you were looking at him with a shy smile, almost looking guilty about something.
When you didn't elaborate he tried to diffuse the tension.
“Well I know for a fact you're not pregnant. Unless you found another way to get my sperm and babytrap me”
You slapped his chest and giggled.
“No, Max. Although that is a great idea, thanks for the suggestion.”
He laughed and leaned his head on the back of the sofa.
“What I wanted to tell you is that I think I'm ready for the next step.”
He frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, up until now my condition has been mostly situational. A stress response, and sex has always stressed me out, for obvious reasons.”
His hand was stroking your leg soothingly, which encouraged you to carry on.
“I've been working on this since we got together. And I feel very at ease when I'm with you. And when I'm not with you…” you blushed and looked at your hands, suddenly shy.
“Hey. Tell me. What about when I'm not here?”
You looked up at him.
“I've been fingering myself”
You bit your lip, waiting for his response but he just stared at you.
“You-" you could tell he was picturing it, although his expression remained mostly blank. “Okay…”
“So really you're supposed to get these dilators, right? But I figured, fingers do the exact same job, and they're free. So I started out with one. And you're supposed to do it for like 20 minutes a day or something. And it has to be snug but not tight or painful, and when it feels fine you move up a size. So I'm now up to two fingers, which is fine, so I need a size up, but three fingers is way too much so I'd need someone with bigger fingers than me…”
Max blinked.
“You see where I'm going with this?” you asked encouragingly.
“No?” Max was lost. All he could picture was you sticking your fingers up yourself for 20 minutes a day while he was out.
You sighed. “Your two fingers are bigger than my two fingers, but smaller than three. So… I need you to finger me”
Max just blinked again.
It took most of your willpower to not slap him
“Stop fucking blinking and say something”
“I… are you sure it's safe? I mean you're supposed to do it with like proper equipment and-”
“Max I swear to god if you start Maxplaining my own treatment to me I am going to lose it”
He promptly shut up.
“So we are going to go into the bedroom, and you are going to stick your fingers in me for twenty minutes. Can you do that?” you batted your eyelashes at him.
“Yes” he rasped, and you giggled at him before leading him over to the bedroom.
He lubed up his fingers, sliding one in to test the waters, and see your reaction.
You nodded at him and he slipped the second one in.
You immediately felt the difference with your own.
It was a stretch, but not painful whatsoever.
And Max was already hard in his pants.
This wasn't about him though, this was a medical procedure to help you out, nothing more.
He knew what to do.
He moved his fingers gently in circles, just like he'd read about on all those forums, towards the front, the back and to the sides.
You looked at him in awe.
“Max… how do you know what you're supposed to do?”
He smiled gleefully at you. “I've done a lot of research”
You melted into the bed, doing your breathing exercises as he continued to stretch you out.
Your alarm rang when the twenty minutes were up, and you were almost disappointed.
Despite it not being sexual in nature, you kind of liked being this close to your boyfriend.
It felt very intimate.
You did the same thing four days in a row, and it became a routine for Max, because every time it was over, he ate you out, and then you gave him a blowjob.
Which is why when you told him you were moving up to three of your fingers and didn't need him for the next few days, he honestly felt like you'd put him on a sex ban.
But when you explained to him that that just meant you didn't need him for the medical part, but he could still put two fingers inside you while he ate you out, his spirits were lifted instantly.
A week later, it was time for three of his fingers, and that was a real stretch.
It wasn't painful, but as soon as the third slipped in, you felt full.
Your breathy gasp alerted Max.
“All okay?”
You nodded.
“More than okay… I feel so… full.”
Max twitched in his pants.
“I suppose that's normal… my fingers are pretty big”
You hummed and Max started the usual exercise.
Except this time, it felt different. It felt almost… pleasurable.
As it went on, Max noticed you were getting progressively wetter.
After about 5 minutes of trying to hold in your noises, you let out the tiniest whimper.
Max stopped his movements and you let out a soft whine.
Max raised an eyebrow at you.
“Did that feel good?”
You huffed “Too good. I think you're gonna make me come like that if you carry on for much longer.”
Max bit his lip. “I suppose that's good. It means you're relaxed”
He continued the slow circles and you let out a shaky exhale.
“Don't keep your noises in” he piped up. “It will just make you tense up. Let them out”
You couldn't go on like this, it felt too good to not take advantage of it.
You glanced at your phone.
12 minutes left.
“Max, if you can make me come just like this in the next twelve minutes I'll let you come on my tits”
Well with an offer like that how could he possibly refuse.
“Can I use my mouth as well?”
You looked at the time again. 11 minutes 37 seconds…
“I suppose”
His tongue ghosted over your clit as his fingers moved in their usual slow circles.
You moaned and he smirked.
Some medical procedure this was shaping up to be.
He crooked his fingers upwards just the slightest bit, and the noise you let out was confirmation that he wouldn't need the full 11 minutes.
You came with 7 minutes left on the timer.
And you were so relaxed he swore he could have slipped a fourth finger in, but he didn't. That would be abusing your trust, and he was determined to be patient and see this through to the end.
After another couple of weeks you deemed yourself finally ready. You'd done 4 of your own fingers, then 4 of his larger fingers. And you came every single time.
And Max had bought you a small-ish dildo to make properly sure you were ready.
He was away for a race weekend when you used it, but you sent him plenty of proof that you could take it easily, and he was very grateful.
When he got back, you had a candle lit dinner, wine and all, before he took you to bed.
You were eternally grateful to Max for sticking this out with you, it was the most romantic thing anyone had ever done for you, even if it did just involve sticking fingers inside you.
When Max finally lined himself up with your entrance, he was so nervous he felt like a virgin again.
When he pushed in it was like the stars had aligned. Everything just felt right.
You had tears in your eyes (of happiness) and you pulled him down for a passionate kiss.
He rolled his hips and you moaned into each other's mouths at the incredible feeling of finally being joined like this.
Max lasted about 3 minutes he was so excited. Bless him.
But he made up for it in the best way.
He proposed, that night, while you both sat on the balcony in the warm Monaco air as the lights of the harbour twinkled below you.
Yeah, he was the one.
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Hey I was wondering if you could do a se-mi fic where the reader is really sweet/kind and is apart of Gi-hun's group in the games. So when se-mi starts flirting with her the boys go all big brother/dad mode and start getting protective. I just think it would be funny to see Dae-ho and Jung-bae doing their goofy marines bit, while se-mi is absolutely unimpressed and sassy and the reader is just watching from afar happy that they're all 'getting along'. Thank you and I love your writing <3
✧₊⁺ i'd do it all again
✦ synopsis: she's very willing to flirt with you, even if there's two are always there to try to stop her from doing it!
tw: pure fluff!
authors note: hiiii, its short but its a week update and im DEAD so dhhdhdfh i hope u like it!!! tysm for the request💓💓
-> "fuck" my head hurts from the impact as i open my eyes to see a girl.. on top of me. her eyes widen as she tries to stay still. her arms keep my body trapped underneath her.
"shit- i'm so sorry" she whispers slowly, trying to not get caught by the doll from the game.
as i can hear it say 'green light' once again. she stands up quickly, lending me her hand as we start running. i can see my brother's eyes moving across the entire room trying to find me because he lost me out of his sight. when he does, he lets out a big sigh as he runs to my side, staying still as we hear the 'red light'.
-> once we're get to the finish line, i lay on the floor, exhausted. my eyes try to find the short haired girl. i stare as i see her bent over, trying to catch her breath.
"you're not allowed to leave my side, ever" dae-ho, my brother, grabs my shoulders as i rolled my eyes. "i'm serious."
"i know, i'm sorry. a girl tripped over me."
as we turned around to head to the main room, i see the girl's eyes follow me until we arrive.
-> as we're done voting, my brother, being the social butterfly he is, already got us a group.
i sit besides gi-hun as i stare the surroundings. i can feel my brother's arms around me as i groan. the girl who fell on top of me stares, quickly removing her eyes of me as i find her sight.
-> and i try multiple times to talk with her, but everytime i seem to get somewhat close, she's moving around as i frown. maybe she's awkward after the way we met but, i'm still curious.
-> as the second game begins, we get together until they announce 'group of 5'. their eyes widen as in-ho tries to move aside, i grab him as i shook my head no. i turn to leave as dae-ho grabs my arm, serious.
"there's no way-"
"listen, i'll be fine. i have an idea. i promise i'll be fine."
"no you liste-"
it's too late, because i'm already running to the pierced girl as she stares up and down at me with a smirk. great, finally an excuse to talk to her and i know she can't run away this time.
"you owe me. and i need a group" i said to her as she scoffed in amusement.
"oh? i owe you?"
"you fell on top of me!" i reply as she hums, playing with her lip piercing.
"what's wrong with your boyfriend's team?" she lifts an eyebrow as i stare wide eye. boyfriend???
"that dumbass?!" i point at dae-ho."he's my brother, ew."
her expression turns into a surprised one, quickly returning to her normal one. was that why she was avoiding me this whole time? i chuckled softly as she did too.
"oh- right. sorry. so um, let's go get three more people" she says, turning around as we see the purple hair guy coming in our direction. we both stare at eachother at the same time, smiling.
great.
-> as we pass the second same, i sit with them, waiting nervously for my brother and the group's return. i see them arrive with a smile as i get up to throw myself into his arms as he hugs me tight. i hug every one of them, happy to see them again.
-> as the night comes, i eat my food while chatting with the group until i see a someone in front of me. i lift my gaze to meet her brown eyes.
i lift my eyebrow as i slowly smile. "hi"
"hey.. thought you could use the company" she said with amusement, sitting next to me. "and, you never told me your name.."
as i tell her, she replies with hers. se-mi.
"pretty name for a pretty girl" i chuckle at her poor attempt to flirt as she laughs with me.
i feel arms wrap around me as i turn my head. of course. i roll my eyes as i sigh.
"hello ladies. i'm dae-ho" he says (to se-mi, mostly) with a serious expression as she stares unfazed and gives him a head nod. "her brother, but you probably guessed since we have the same 'pretty face', like you said." he tells her, trying to put his most 'older brother' face as i elbow him on the ribs.
"get out, oh my god you're so annoying" i said removing myself from his grip as he stares, offended.
"i'm trying to look after my little sister! you can't date someone from this game"
"we're not dating! leave!" i whisper/shout at him as he stares like a puppy while i push him out.
"i was in the marine, by the way!" he tells to her, turning around one last time as she smirks.
i sit again besides her as i huffed. she smiles, amused.
"so that was.. interesting" she plays with her lip piercing, the smirk never leaving her lips. i nod as i stare away, too embarrassed to meet her eyes. "does that mean every time i'll try to talk to you, you'll have a bodyguard?" she chuckles as i nod, embarrassed.
"i mean.. probably"
she hums as her gaze meets my eyes.
"i can do that."
and she means it.
-> and as the days go by, we become closer and closer. hugging eachother everytime we see the other one survived the game, teaming together and staying all night talking.
and she's so pretty, that it doesn't feel surprising when she's making me blush from staring too much, or when i get butterflies everytime she whispers sweet things to me because she knows i love it.
-> and after one specific hard game, i realize i wanna spend every little minute with her. too scared to loose her, i'm asking her to bring her mattress besides mine. as i'm helping her to move it, i can see two people standing in front of us, staring to see what we're doing.
"are you two sleeping together? i don't think thats a good idea." jung-bae says as my eyes widen. "you look like a good young girl, but we can't trust too much" he says to se-mi as this one stares and gives him a soft chuckle.
"that's true. sleeping together is a step too far. are you two dating?" my brother nods at jung-bae's words as i cover my face in embarrassment.
"not yet" she smirks at my brother as his eyes widen.
"can you two just... shush away?" i murmur to them, staring at both.
they look at each other as i move them softly aside.
"i can't believe the disrespect we face. from two young girls" jung-bae says as dae-ho nods.
-> and as the night comes, we lay side to side while talking.
"i really like this.. spending time with you" she says, making me smile. i feel her cold hands with the rings cup my face as i stare at her. "do you think your brother's awake?"
my expression turns into confusion. "um.. no? i don't think so?"
"good" she mumbles against my lips as she kisses me. i let out a soft moan in surprise as i melt into the kiss.
"i knew you weren't a good girl!" my brother jumps from the bed, his finger pointing to se-mi, making us break from the kiss to stare him.
"oh my god where you spying this whole time? you're a fucking-"
"hey careful!" he says, his finger now pointing at me. "now. if you want my sister, i will make your life a living hell" he warns se-mi as she lifts her arms, smiling.
"she's worth it" she says as we both stare at her.
-> and he means it. because even when we leave the game after voting 'x', she warns me many times i'm not allowed to disappear now that she's attached. not like i was going to. but wherever i go, he's also always there too.
and all the guys are also there. even gi-hun, jung-bae and in-ho, warning her every step of the way, as me and jun-hee chuckle. and se-mi starts loving them too, because she's sure she won't be able to get rid of them (she tried!)
with our poor relationship with our father, jung-bae ends up turning into more of a father figure to us, being the one supporting my brother through everything, but also being there for me everyday.
and with time (a lot of family dinners we have together) they start to soften up for her.
-> so it's not a surprise when a few years later, at our wedding, she takes a video of how our life together has been and a video of my brother and jung-bae shows up.
"are you- are you asking us for our blessing?" dae-ho sobs as jung-bae seems to be suppressing his tears. i can hear her laugh, although i can't see her because she was the one recording the video.
"i don't think i would be able to go through it if i didn't" she says, softly.
they're both crying now as they hug her.
"i knew you were the one!" jung-bae says, sobbing like a baby while she laughs.
"we knew it! that's why we went easy on you!" dae-ho says, wiping away his tears.
"yeah, i figured" se-mi says, her tone dripping in sarcasm.
i turn to the side to hug her while i kiss her, laughing as dae-ho and jung-bae stare at the video, blushing red.
"we agreed that was a secret!" jung-bae says, embarrassed as gi-hun hugs him with a chuckle.
"that's-that an edition. se-mi! you said you wouldn't play that" dae-ho says to her as she shrugs.
i cup her face on my hands as she laughs. her gaze meets mine. "i love you so much." my stare filled with love like the first day i met her.
"mh, i love you so much too. happy family, happy wife and happy life right?"
#se mi x reader#player 380 x reader#se-mi x reader#player 380#se-mi#se mi#squid game#squid game 2#lesbian#se mi squid game#won ji an#squid games smut#squid games x reader#se-mi squid games#wlw
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Please help a starving Anon..... I need more Mother Hen Hal from you...The way you write him and the characters are so good and perfect(idc if anyone disagrees), i am dying../silly/nf
It can have anything you wish to add, maybe a sprinkle of hurt/comfort (let's not forget the queers(BatLantern) too/verysilly)/lh
Yeah, you can absolutely have more mother hen Hal!!! This one is a little early in the relationship, pre-Flittermouse, and Dick-centric.
The Littlest Wayne: Mother Hen (Dick)
"B! Thanks for coming to get —"
Dick stops and tilts his head as the window of the Lambo rolls down. It's not Bruce, here to pick him up from a celebration at Titan's Tower he was just a smidge too drunk to drive himself home from.
It's Hal.
"Hi, kid," he greets. "Bruce was asleep when you texted. I told him to chill out and I'd get you instead."
"Oh, hi," Dick says, a little off-kilter. His grin only wanes a little. "Yeah. Okay."
He walks around the car and climbs into the front passenger seat, brows furrowed. It's the first time they've been alone together since Bruce told the boys that they started seeing each other.
"Thanks."
"No problem. Have you eaten in a while? Might hit a drive-through before we get back. My treat as long as you don't tell Alfred."
Dick nods slowly, staring at Hal like he can't quite figure everything out. Hal just shoots him an easy smile, then focuses his attention on the road.
They're quiet for a while, the radio playing some top 10 hit softly through the speakers neither one of them recognizes. When Hal pulls up to order them some food (and how curious that he knows Dick's usual) then waves away Dick's effort to pay, the man can't help but say something.
"You don't... have to do that."
"It's like thirty bucks, champ. I've got it," Hal chuckles.
"I don't mean the food."
Hal looks at Dick curiously. It's probably the fact that he's still pretty sloshed, but he feels especially vulnerable in the car with him, and can't quite keep his thoughts to himself.
"You don't have to pretend to care about Bruce's kids just because you're dating Bruce." Even as he says it, he knows it was mean and dismissive. Dick chews on the inside of his cheek and can't figure out how to take that back, so he stops talking.
Hal doesn't respond. Dick can't make himself look at Hal's face, so he fiddles with the Nightwing charm dangling off his cellphone.
"Here's your meal, sir. Enjoy," says a fast food employee. Hal thanks her quickly, then pulls into a parking lot and kills the engine. Dick listens to him rustle through the bag and sort out what belongs to whom for a minute, then gently takes his portion from him when it's offered.
"Hey," says Hal. Dick pretends he's too preoccupied with opening the sauce packet for his chicken nuggets to look up. "Okay. I'd probably be a little skittish after dropping a bomb like that, too. So, just listen for a sec, okay?"
"Kay," he mumbles through a mouthful of fries, trying very hard not to feel like he's eight years old and sitting in Commissioner Gordon's office, waiting to find out if Bruce will assume guardianship and take him home, waiting to see if he'd be accepted or rejected.
"I think Bruce is it for me."
Hmm. Okay, not the words he expected to hear, but Dick is listening.
"You've probably heard that from his exes before. Something about Bruce is just...captivating. He's got his own gravitational pull, and I'm not interested in getting knocked outta orbit."
Hal pops a couple fries in his mouth. Dick sees his shoulders shrug in his periphery.
"I'm in love with him, is the point. Have been for a few years now, but I didn't think it was reciprocal until that battle in Coast City. But Bruce isn't just Bruce, is he?"
Hal reaches across the center console to gently squeeze Dick's knee.
"He's Bruce, and Dick, and Jason, and Tim, and Damian. He's got a whole gaggle of wonderful sons I'd love to get to know."
"We've worked together tons of times before," Dick says. He's barely picking at his food, too busy trying to figure out Hal's point.
"Sure. I've worked with Nightwing a lot. But that's not all you are. I don't really know anything about Dick Grayson, and I'd really like to."
Hal pulls his hand away and picks up his burger to take a bite.
"All this to say...I know you guys are mostly grown. You're used to having one parent and don't really need another one, and, damn, I don't know the first thing about any of that. But I'm in this for the long haul, and you can rely on me. I don't want any of you believing you're just an afterthought to me. Okay?"
Oh. Oh.
In lieu of an answer, and also because his throat feels too tight to speak, Dick just nods and goes back to eating. They finish their food in silence and Hal gets out to dispose of the trash, then turns the engine again to take him the rest of the way home. As he parks and they leave the garage, Dick throws his arms around Hal. He pretends the stinging in his eyes is some weird effect from the alcohol when Hal hugs him back just as tight.
"Goodnight, kid," he murmurs. "Go take a glass of water and some ibuprofen to bed with you for that hangover in the morning."
"Yes, mom," Dick snorts, teasing, but he detours to the kitchen with a shy little grin anyway.
#littlest wayne au#batfam x reader#dick grayson#hal jordan#that feeling when your dad's new partner actually factors you into the relationship :0#batlantern
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