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fallinfl0wers · 3 years ago

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hellooo! this is the first time i request something from a blog :D could i request headcanons of diluc, scara, kazuha and xiao when their s/o tells them they're pregnant and possibly how they'd get used to having a kid? tyy! dont forget to take breaks and relax!

Literally baby-sized trouble.

summary: you're pregnant! how does he react to the news and how do the get used to your child? includes: diluc (26 bullet points), scaramouche (24 bullet points), kazuha (17 bullet points) and xiao (35 bullet points) warnings: fem!reader, pregnancy, children, non-explicit/non described giving birth, mostly fluff with a little bit of hurt/comfort and angst. format: headcanons thank you for your request!! this was so fun to write! >< imagining the characters being soft with children is just so cute :") i specially like these four a lot >< when i wrote this i was in a xiao mood if it wasn't obvious that his turned out longer than everyone else's lol, and it's also the first time i write for kazuha so it was shorter than the others, but i think his is the sweetest ><! i hope you enjoy it! ps. the names and meanings- i got them from google, feel free to correct me if there's anything wrong with them ><

Diluc

He's going to stop functioning the moment he hears the news from you.

Literally, he's still as a rock and completely taken by surprise.

He... can't say he'd never wanted children. He's pretty traditional and, since he has this beautiful relationship with you, he assumed it might happen sometime in the future.

But oops guess it will have to happen in the close future, since you're already pregnant.

After staring at you with widened eyes for a while, he speaks up: "...is... is it true?" You hold his hands on yours with a smile on your face, nodding. "Yes, Diluc. We're going to be parents." Hearing your words, he starts to tear up as he hugs you, his touch almost hesitant, as if you were so fragile he could break you if he wasn't careful. "...thank you." He'd whisper between silent tears, hiding his face from your sight.

Very supportive and very protective!

You will have the most comfortable of pregnancies. He will make sure you don't need to move a single muscle to get anything you want.

If the two of you aren't married or engaged yet, he's going to propose to you very soon, keep that in mind ><

He starts reading every book he can find on pregnancies and babies so that he knows what to do to help you when you give birth and how to take care of his child once they're born ><

You have to convince him that yes, you can go and eat in the dining room and you don't need to eat everything in your room or stay in bed all day and yes, you can still do most things and no, he doesn't have to worry so much.

But yeah, in later stages of your pregnancy he gets more overprotective because he doesn't want anything to hurt you or your baby :(

He couldn't be calm enough while you gave birth and had to wait outside of the room, which only made him more nervous </3

But when he finally held your little baby on his arms for the first time, he broke down crying.

You two had a boy! He looked a lot like him, too... with the red hair and eyes... so cute...

He's not sure of what to name him, he'd thought of some names before, but they all disappeared when he saw the little bundle of joy in his arms;;

So you two will have to think about a name again!

In the end, you settle for Felix; name meaning "happy" or "lucky"!

Diluc is a very busy man, but he still does his best to be there for you and his son as much as possible!

He's also not very sure as to how he should interact with him...

But he does know he LOVES playing with him as soon as he starts to understand how to play with his toys.

But... there are not so cute parts about having a kid, after all.

At times, he worries whether or not he'll be able to be there enough for him.

He wonders if he can be a good father, given how awkward he is with his emotions.

What if when Felix grows up he starts hating him for being absent? He wouldn't be able to stand it.

You always reassure him as you both put the baby to sleep on his crib.

All Diluc wants is for his son to have a happy childhood and a loving family, but worries he won't be good enough of a father.

However, when Felix's first word is "'iluc!" as he stretches out his tiny arms towards him, he thinks that maybe, just maybe, he can do this right.

Scaramouche

He thought you were joking, so he laughed.

When you didn't laugh along with him and was met with your blank face, he understood you were serious.

He never even thought he'd be with anyone in a relationship before you came along, let alone have a child with anyone... So he's obviously very shocked and confused as to how to proceed.

After an awkward moment of staring at each other, he cleared his throat and crossed his arms, looking at you with an equally blank face. "So? What do you want me to do about it?" "H-huh?" "In the sense of- what do you want to do? Keep it or not." You huffed, and when he heard your determinated answer, he sighed and gave your head some soft pats. "Alright, alright, whatever you want, I guess."

Okay listen here- it's not like doesn't care but it isn't like he cares so much either...

This man would do anything for you, really, and that's what happens.

He does anything and everything for you, because he's worried about you and not necessarily about the baby you're carrying.

It's not like he hates children- because you can't hate anything you don't perceive as equal or superior to you and a baby ceirtainly isn't either for him-

It's more like he doesn't know what to do with them because he's never been around children enough to understand them.

He's overall very indifferent towards the child ngl.

Then he sees you cradling your baby -a girl- in your arms and his mind just... goes blank. Huh, so that's what a human looks like right after being born.

Your little daughter looks more like him than she looks like you, sorry. But he can clearly see on her face some factions that will look like yours as she grows up.

But...

"Now what?"

He'll help you look after her however he can, since he doesn't want you to be too tired because he never knows when he'll have to leave for weeks or even months without notice.

He's not entirely cold or indifferent towards her, even if sometimes he might resent her a bit for taking away some of your attention.

But like when you were choosing a name for her, he gave a few suggestions and in the end you choose one of the names he thought of!

Her name is Hikari, name meaning "light"!

Due to the nature of his job, he doesn't want to be seen around either of you at the moment in public. It would only put a target on your backs.

And it takes a long, long while for him to warm up to her.

It disheartens you a little, but when you see him looking down at Hikari's sleeping form on the crib, softly poking her cheek with a strangely child-like curiosity on his eyes, you feel at ease.

And he thinks that he can probably handle this parenting thing better than he ever expected. Maybe it's not that bad, after all.

Ceirtainly, he thinks, as he holds her in his arms one day after she spoke her first word to him, this parenting thing is not really that bad.

(Her first word was "papa!")

Be ready, because once he gets attached to your daughter he won't stop spoiling her!

Kazuha

"Are you sure, love?" "Yes, I'm sure. We're having a child!" A smile painted itself on his face as he leaned in to kiss your forehead. "I hope I can be a good father for them."

So the Kaedehara family is getting a new member, huh!

Not that there's much left to his name, especially now that he's a fugitive... but he's excited nonetheless!

Although he's not one to settle down for long, he will make an effort for both you and the child, since it's not good for someone who's pregnant to wander around.

He's very protective, but not in an overbearing way! He simply wants you to take it easy and relax, he can take care of everything else on his own!

That being said, he's not rich like Diluc or Scaramouche, so he's also going to work harder than ever to get everything you or the baby need in advance so that neither of you have to stress out!

He's the one who takes it better out of everyone here, he's not extremely worried or outright indifferent, he's simply worried enough, excited and happy!

He already knew you were the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, so the idea of having a child with you didn't scare him or intimidate him in the slightest!

He's still a bit worried, though.

He is a wanted fugitive in his homeland, after all...

He can only do so much and wish for the situation in Inazuma to change soon, so that he can take both you and his child to see the places he loved to spend his time at when he was a child.

But for now, he's happy enough simply holding his child on his arms, sitting next to you in your small shared home.

You have a girl too! She has Kazuha's hair color and your eye color, she's super adorable ><

He wants you to name her, and you both agree on naming her Izumi, meaning fountain or spring!

"Kaedehara Izumi... it has a nice ring to it." He'd say, smiling down at her.

While Kazuha enjoys travelling more than anything in this world, he's reticent to leave you and your daughter alone or even bring you along with him. So he stays around for as long as you need it.

He will talk a lot to her all the time, so don't be surprised when she picks up very complicated, flowery words from a young age!

He wants her to grow up to be free as the wind and be able to do whatever she wants without fear, so he wants to do his best to be a good father for her!

Xiao

You can practically see the panic on his face when you tell him the news.

It's the most scared you've ever seen him be, and you've been there to help him through his karmic debt.

So yeah, he takes it the worst out of everyone.

"I'm not mad." He manages to tell you before disappearing to somewhere else in a panicked haze, he needs to sort out his emotions quickly before he can properly talk to you about it. The last thing he saw before he disappeared was your eyes, glinting with sadness. And that only made him feel worse if that was even possible.

It takes him the whole day to come to terms with his feelings on your pregnancy and finally face you again.

He's really, really afraid of hurting you and your child. Not to mention he fears he might've passed some kind of curse from his karma to either of you through the pregnancy :(

Like he said, he isn't mad. He's just scared.

He... he literally never, never thought he would get to be a father.

Family was a foreign concept to him, as were a lot of other things you've slowly helped him understand throughout your time together, so knowing he can have one of his own now... makes him happy, and scared, at the same ime.

He's worse than Diluc when it comes to protecting you and worrying about you.

He won't let you do anything alone, even if he doesn't want to be near you because he doesn't want the karma to harm you or your child in such a vulnerable moment of your lives.

Okay so that aside-

How do people care for babies?

What is he exactly supposed to do?

And- do half-adepti babies need any sort of special treatment in comparison to human babies?

He has no idea on what to do if it doesn't involve a physical fight with a tangible foe, so he goes asking for advice to everyone he knows that could have knowledge on that field.

Verr Goldet and Ganyu are a great help for him. Xiao listens with attention to everything they have to say and asks everything he doesn't understand.

Ganyu tells him about her own experience growing up as half-human so that he can understand what raising a half-human, half-illuminated beast baby might entail.

He also goes to Zhongli for advice and he gets more of the same advice he's already heard, along with many, many reassurances that sound like everything you already tell him every day.

He's very worried, but as the months go by and your child's birth comes closer, he can't help but feel a little excited about it.

Everyone who knows him is happy to see him openly happy for a change on those small moments when he gets excited about his new family with you.

When your child is born, Xiao doesn't want to hold him. It took too much willpower to stay as close as he was right now, standing next to your bed as you held your baby in your arms.

He was so adorable, so small, so fragile, so pure- Xiao was afraid of touching him and breaking or tainting him--

He was already crying, he'd started crying the moment he saw you holding your son for the first time.

He feels so... strange. He's crying, but this isn't a painful, or sad feeling. He feels... happy, but scared, but...

The feeling starts to make some sense to him when he finally convinces himself that it's okay for him to hold the little boy in his arms, when he stares with awe at his face.

The baby looks a lot like the both of you. Arguably, more like him, since he has the same hair and the same bright eyes, but in his face all he can see is you.

And he cries more.

You both named him Liàng, name meaning brilliant!

Xiao does his best to try and get used to parenting, and it gets hard at times.

But he tries, and that's all that matters. He tries to be a good father, and is always there to protect both you and your son from anything trying to harm you.

Even though he was so scared at first, you know he loves the new family you've formed together.

Especially when you catch him trying to hold a conversation with your son, sitting down on the bed next to him as he toys with a soft teddy bear, the two of them surrounded by pillows.

The soft look and smile he wears while he does so tells you that everything is going to be alright.

The three of you are going to be alright, and Xiao wants to make sure of it.

His son will never have to live what he lived or see what he saw. He will make sure of that, no matter what.

#diluc x reader #scaramouche x reader #kazuha x reader #kaedehara kazuha x reader #xiao x reader #melodywritings #melwritesgenshin #tw: children #tw: pregnancy

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bokuroar · 3 years ago

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haikyuu!! characters when you’re stressed in uni

characters: m. osamu, k. kenma, b. kōtarō, k. tetsurō x gn!reader (separate)

song suggestions: 1 2 3 4

❀ OSAMU is the one that keeps you sane. he gives you the personal space you need to be able to work but he checks up on you at least once every hour. if he’s at home, he’d always sneak in a cup of cold water before leaving a kiss on your forehead and a “you’ve got this, baby.” if he’s at work, he sends in texts from time to time remind you that it’s lunchtime and it’s time to eat the food he has already prepared in the morning when he found out it’s going to be a busy day for you. osamu makes sure you never skip on healthy meals and you get enough sleep to function well. sometimes, it boils down to osamu carrying you from your desk to trap cuddle you in bed so you could lie down and relax. for him, taking care of you and your needs is the least he could do while you chase your dreams.

❀ staying up until the wee hours of daylight is less lonelier with a company like KENMA. discord is the third party in your relationship and you have no idea how many screenshots kenma has on his computer from your calls. since high school, he has grown accustomed to pulling an all nighter albeit for non-academic reasons. he doesn’t mind staying up for games before but now there’s you, he actually began to love it. there’s just a comfort and a sense of security in knowing that you are both awake at the same time. hearing kenma’s soft hums to familiar tunes and the random conversations during your short breaks are the absolute best breathers you can ask for. as the world succumbs to slumber, you are shaken awake by love in the form of quality time with kenma.

❀ TETSURŌ goes out of his way to give his support. even before getting together, he has always been your go-to for academic advices because he is as huge of a nerd as he is an athlete; he makes learning fun more than it really is. from color-coded reviewers to flash cards that will earn you a kiss when you get an answer right which escalates into more sometimes, kuroo just never just runs out of ideas. and he always has time for you, too. once kuroo figures out you need extra help, he’d drop everything and rush to you. you are his priority. you don’t have just a boyfriend, what you got is a partner who inspires and helps you to be the best version of yourself, all while holding your hand.

❀ you could always count on KŌTARŌ to be your sunshine. you don’t know how he does it but a bad day is no match for bokuto’s smiles. failure is inevitable, you both know that much—him on his games, yours on your exams. although failing doesn’t completely hinder success, it hurts just the same, a familar feeling to bokuto hence he knows just what to say and what to do. the last thing you see before you leave the house is his encouraging smile and two thumbs up cheering you on. as you get home, the second he sees your tired face, he pulls you into a hug without saying a word, gently swaying you and rubbing your back, easing all the burden you feel on your shoulders. there are times too when he knows you need some space to cope with it, so he lets you know he’s there for you when you need him by leaving sticky notes on your desk that says, “i love you and i’m proud of you! im just outside waiting with a hug ok! :D” you’re not the best 100% of the time, it’s true, but bokuto proves you don’t have to be to deserve the things that make you happy.

feedback is always appreciated (ꈍᴗꈍ)♡

a/n: i literally just finished my preliminary exams n im sO tired i think i could’ve performed so much better but i don’t really wanna sulk over it,, but anw this is my coping mechanism disguised as headcanons lmao i hope u enjoy ! 🌸

#✍️.haikyuu!!#✍️.hc #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#hq x reader #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu headcanons #osamu x reader #miya atsumu x reader #kenma kozume x reader #kuroo x reader #bokuto x reader #iwaizumi x reader

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ceruleanchillin · 3 years ago

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When You're At The Function F***in It UP And Your Man Walks In (Mayans)

Warnings: Implied sexual content, language, fighting

Characters: Angel, Coco, & EZ

You’re on thin ice as it is sis. The little forest-green dress with the the deep plunge front and slit sides, the one that ended up purchased after your friends hyped you into it. That’s supposed to be in the trash according to one Angel Reyes. That, or reserved for private nights in.

Currently, it was wrapped around your form, helping you grab envious/admiring glances from around the room.

Your hips twisted to the layered bass, using the random behind you for stability. Your friend next to you cheered you on, her inner hype man on full display. There’s a breakdown in the song, and you lose yourself in the rhythm. Suddenly, you hear a familiar voice telling you “Superstar mama, say hi for the gram!”.

Your eyes zone in on Gilly, eyes wide. Everyone knew the Mayans rolled deep when they went anywhere. Where there was one, there was the rest. Especially when it came to the three musketeers and their wrangler, EZ.

Like you were busted sneaking back into your room as a teen, you froze. You narrowed your eyes at your friend who shrugged and mouthed sorry before disappearing.

“Gilly fuck off!” You hissed, moving away from the random. Your eyes scanning the crowded den.

Gilly laughed, tucking his phone into his kutte. “Ayy, don’t get mad at me,” he fluttered his eyelashes and fake coughed into his hand. “I don’t feel so good baby, I’m just gonna stay in tonight.”

You narrowed your eyes at his high-pitched mimicry of your last conversation with Angel.

He wasn’t even supposed to be there. Your friend swore she nixed all Mayan related invites, just for that night, on your behalf. All you wanted was to be able to turn up like you did pre-relationship. Normally you could at clubhouse parties since Angel trusted everyone there with his life. Any party outside of that was a gamble, and Angel could referee like he got a check for it.

Your eyes finally met said man’s across the party and a chill and went down your spine. Angel was propped against the wall across the way, eyes on you.

The rest of party fell away as you made your way over to him, schooling your features into your ‘what did I do daddy?’ pout.

“Nah, don’t come over with that lip poking now.” He shook his head, speaking when you were in range of him.

“And what are you doing wearing this fucking pillowcase out here? What did we talk about?” He pinched the thin strings of your dress.

“Nooo, don’t be mad. I was walking through my closet and it fell on me. Besides, you liked it when I modeled it for you.”

Angel scoffed, refusing to even entertain your comments. Coco chuckled from his spot next to his friend as he lit a cigarette.

“I thought you had club shit, I didn’t even know you’d be here.” You cringed as soon as the words left your lips, the shots you’d taken earlier still putting in work.

“I didn’t know you’d be here either. I thought you were sick. There’s some soup in the car that thought it was getting dropped off. Apparently wrong thoughts is the theme of the night.”

Petty by Angel Reyes.

“Soup? Baby, that’s so sweet.” You tried to pet his cheeks, but he was keeping you at bay.

“You aren’t even sick! Imma give that shit to Gilly.”

“Nooo.” You whined again, still trying to get him to let you touch him in some way.

“Get that bitch you were dancing with to buy you soup.” It was his turn to pout, but there was fire in his eyes as he tracked the guy you’d been dancing with. “It’s all he’s gonna be able to fucking eat in a minute anyways.”

“Sorry I blew up your spot ma, I just wanted to see my plug and get out.” Coco opened the palm of his hand not holding the cigarette and revealed a small bag of weed.

Angel snapped his head towards him, expression incredulous. “Don’t apologize to her, she lied to her man! She gave some puto hope! Get on code!”

“I love you hermano, but this is your guard dog-ass fault.” He pointedly ignored his friend’s heated glare as a girl in the doorway caught his interest, slipping away when she positively returned his gaze.

Angel’s attention was claimed by you once again when you pulled his head down towards you. You smothered his cheeks in kisses, to which he was physically unresponsive.

“I don’t know if I want you kissing on me querida.”

You rolled your eyes. Petty or not, everyone knew Angel’s life force depleted the longer he went without touching you. Even in your tipsy state you could see his fingers literally twitched with the need to take their rightful place on your hips.

“I just wanted to dance like I used to, and you don’t dance. Then you beat down guys who want to. You left me no choice, so let me have kisses.” You locked your arms around his waist, successfully avoiding his half-hearted attempts to push you away.

He scrunched up his face. “How the fuck am I catching strays in this situation? I’m the victim!”

“I’ll make it up to you later if you stop being a hatin’ wallflower and let me grind on you.” Your hips found the rhythm of the slow wind song thumping through the room.

His hands encircled your throat, drawing you closer to his person. Your pupils blew at his darkened expression, your lower half squirming with interest. He pressed his lips to yours, and the party faded to nothing again. His fingers flexed around your throat before closing just enough for him to draw the subtlest gasp from you. He felt it more than heard it over the noise, but it was enough.

He pulled away, licking his lips as you tried to remember where you were and if sin always tasted so good.

“You’ll make it up to me right now in the traitor’s car.” he held up keys you recognized to be Coco’s.

You started to protest on principle, but your body was going through withdrawals from a lite touch (for Angel). He could see the wheels turning, but you were letting him lead you out of the room, palm openly covering your ass.

“Who are you texting?” You asked, more annoyed with how his hands were no longer possessively roaming your body than a real answer.

He quickly pocketed his phone and returned his hands to you. “No one baby.” definitely not telling his boys via group chat to handle the random for him. “Stop worrying about anything other than how you’re gonna get around at work tomorrow.”

--------

It was bad enough you couldn’t make it to New Orleans due to work, and Old Lady “responsibilities”, but this petty fight you were in with Coco was the kicker. You couldn’t even remember how it started, but it escalated back and forth until you weren’t speaking and were back staying at your apartment.

Poor Letty had been reduced to messenger girl, especially now that she had a car. A tug of war with your point being “she was my girl first, that’s how we met” and his point being “she’s my kid, blood first ma” had broken out. You didn’t know what was going to wear through its welcome first, your lack of Coco, or Letty’s patience, but they were competing. It wasn’t like Coco was doing any better if your daily updates from Letty were any indication. He was impatient, tense, chain smoking, and was getting closer and closer to going through with the apology call he was openly fighting.

It wouldn’t be long before you were back to getting your back arched out of shape if that was anything to go by. Not a moment too soon if your own miserable habits were anything to go by. You wanted to use the party to distract yourself, hoping Coco would break first the following day. If not, it was sure to be you.

You spent the whole day throwing your frustrations into decorating your best friend’s backyard. It looked like the French Quarter threw up its best years, but it was the perfect backdrop to lose yourself to some bounce music.

Normally, you could goad Coco into being your twerking post, and that resistance (plus his turned on bi-lingual hypeman compliments in your ear) was everything missing at the moment.

You pouted and weaved your way out of the crowd to your friend who was busy playing good hostess.

“Ah ah, no whining. If you wanna really make it Mardi Gras, shake your ass on a dude.”

You narrowed your eyes, annoyed she shut down and solved your problem before you could whine about it. “Coco hates that shit! Plus he’s spoiled me, it won’t even be the same.”

“Coco isn’t here, and it doesn’t have to be the same, it just has to do.” She turned away from where she’d filled two shot glasses for the two of you. “Besides, we both know your ass is gonna be all in his neck crying about how you miss him tomorrow. Do your thing before you go out sad.”

She clinked shot glasses with you, pleased at her accurate assessment and your sourpuss face.

“Fuck you.” You laughed, voice rough from the burn of the shot.

“Save that for Coco.” She smacked your ass, draped one of the many beaded necklaces hanging off her shoulder around your neck, and sent you on your way back to the crowd of writhing bodies.

It was nothing to find dudes to grind on, and you fell into the synergy. You couldn’t count how many fast paced songs you’d thrown it back to, or how many guys you’d danced with. The stack of beads you’d acquired gave some idea though.

Meanwhile, Coco’s skin was alive with the kind of anger he felt. He’d been seriously contemplating coming to your place and forcing out admissions of how his life wasn’t right without you in it. He couldn’t remember who or what started it, but it didn’t even matter when your scent was starting to fade from his pillow, and his touch starvation was acting up.

All of that went careening out the window when he stumbled upon a pouty Letty, huffing and sucking her teeth at her phone. Turns out you, and “everyone in the goddamn world but me” according to Letty, were at your friend’s blowout Mardi Gras party. Coco knew it was your favorite holiday, but it was news to him that you had any plans since you couldn’t officially go this year. News he didn’t welcome at all, since all of the videos he saw you in you were throwing (his) your ass on multiple dudes. Did you think he wouldn’t fight everyone???

He was already on his bike before he’d even registered leaving the house. He sent a quick summoning call in his boy’s group chat, your friend’s address the destination.

The party was louder and wilder than the videos let on. He’d already spotted his boys by their kuttes, mingling in their respective ways, but didn’t seek them out. They’d find him if he needed them to. Coco on the other hand, needed to find you.

His eagle eyes picked apart the crowd until he spotted you twisting yourself to the rhythm. Coco didn’t know whether to shoot the asshole behind you, or take you away to deal with the feelings you were bringing out of him.

You knew he loved when you brought the South to the West Coast with your hips and ass.

He charged into your space, his hands immediately going for the guy’s arm and snatching him towards him.

“Make a choice cabrón. Get the fuck out, or be an expensive bill and sad memory for your moms by morning.” He pressed his kutte to his person, emphasizing that he was strapped.

The guy raised his palms and quickly exited the scene. Unwilling to test what clearly was a warning that Coco would happily make good on.

You tugged on him, trying to get him to move away from the crowd. Scanning those around you to see who saw or heard, you noticed more than you would’ve liked. They wouldn’t make a fuss, noting his kutte, but still.

“Stop it. What are you even doing here?” You hissed, tugging his arm harshly for his attention.

He turned his gaze, wild with adrenaline and arrogance at his victory, on you. “You should’ve stopped yourself before throwing it back on random fuckers for the internet. This is on you.”

“No, this is on you. If you hadn’t done what you did or said what you said…”. You trailed off remembering that you couldn’t recall what had happened, just the frustration.

“What did I say or do (y/n)?” He noted your visible annoyance that he’d chosen to use your real name instead of a pet name, and with a smirk, he walked you backwards until your back gently hit the fence.

Between not recalling what started the fight, and your man looking amazing, you settled on a pathetic. “You remember.”

“No I don’t, and neither do you.” that familiar prickle of intensity sparked between the two of you.

Everything between you and Coco felt like a live wire dancing back and forth. High energy moments usually ended in either great sex, or separation (sometimes by the force of your friends) to let things cool down.

“I know you’re gonna catch a case if you keep moving like that Johnny. Is that what you want?”

“Nah mujer, that ain’t what I want. I want you home where you belong, but you’re out here playing me instead.” Slender fingers tugged sharply at a few of the beaded necklaces in your stack.

You sucked your teeth and turned your head, ignoring the warm cheeks and butterflies in your stomach at his on-brand admission of missing you.

He placed a hand on the fence next to your head, grasping your chin to turn your attention back to him.

“You’re being a drama queen. I thought I was talking to Angel for a second.”

He threw his head back as laughed, and you got an almost overwhelming urge to kiss him. Or at least bury your fingers in his soft curls, they were begging for it at this po-

“Fuck that, he’s still got me beat. Wait til you see the tantrum he’s saving for you for not getting invited tonight.”

“He was, I just told her to can it because of you. He should be mad at you.” You pouted, but your tone was teasing.

“I could put in a good word for you…you know, if you’re done being petty.” He leaned in, running his lips over the shell of your ear.

“Or I could just offer to throw it back on him to make him forget.”

It was your turn to laugh when Coco tensed, and pulled back from where he’d been teasing you with light touches. You didn’t love him no longer touching you, but faltering him made it almost worth it.

“Or you could take me home and we could both forget…” you clutched at his kutte, leaning into him.

He pulled your hands away by your wrists, his thumbs rubbing over your pulse points.

“Nah, if dancing is this fucking important to you, come on then.” He pulled you after him.

“Cocooo,” you whined, more interested in getting him to touch you again. “Take me home already.”

“My lady wants to dance.” He sat on the outdoor wicker couch and patted his lap. “So dance.”

You stood there in confusion for a second, before what he meant became clear. “I’m not doing that here!”

“You didn’t have an issue earlier, move those hips ma.” He looked between you and his lap again.

Could’ve been the way he was biting his lip, or the laid back way he rested against the couch, but that coupled with lack of access to him, had affirmative words running through your mind.

You playfully rolled your eyes, faking like his request was that expensive. “Only because I want to get you home, and I know you’ll never quit whining if I don’t.”

You slipped onto his lap, the action already drawing attention from partygoers just for the potential of what was to come.

He grasped your hips to still you before you started to move, his palm pressing you back to him by your throat. “And don’t half-ass it yeah…or I might do the same when I get you home.”

--------

It wasn’t until Creeper hit his shoulder and informed him of how hard he was smiling that EZ realized his cheeks ached. He couldn’t help it, he loved watching you dance more than anything.

As soon as you heard a melody you liked, you came alive to it, and stole everyone’s attention. You could find the beat on anything.

That wasn’t his sole reason for cheesing so hard though. Tonight had been the first night you brought your closest friends around the club, and he knew it took great trust in him, his brothers, and your relationship to do that. Your family was on the East Coast, so your friends filled that role for you. Coupled with EZ, they were your world and he thanked you everyday for letting him in.

“Gonna stop calling you boy scout if you keep enjoying the show this much.” Creeper took the seat across from him, half blocking his view.

“Oh you didn’t know how EZ gets down?” Angel’s lips formed that mischievous grin, his eyes taking on the same glint. “You should’ve seen him begging me for tales from Angel’s crib.”

“She and her girls look good out there. Might be too much for you junior.”

EZ rolled his eyes at the ribbing from his brothers, his grin still intact. “At some point I’m gonna be patched, I’m happy to make a cage date for that day. Pretty sure I can take both of you.

Creeper and Angel exchanged exaggerated incredulous expressions.

“See what happens when you go easy on the help?” Angel scoffed. “You sound like you’re hurtin’ for work prospect.”

“Could use some more water.” Creeper shook his water bottle at him, just barely missing splashing him.

EZ rose from his seat, empty beer bottle in hand. “Just remember that day is coming.”

Angel and Creeper laughed raucously at that.

“Don’t get your ass beat in front of your woman lil bro!”

EZ shook his head, choosing to ignore his dumbass older brother. and tossed his bottle in the trash. Slipping through the moving bodies until he was near you, he gently patted your friend who nodded and stepped from behind you.

You jumped, surprised at his sudden appearance, but settled back against him.

“Hey baby.” You gently encouraged him to follow the sway of your hips as he placed his head on your shoulder.

“Hey. I’m back on the slave clock, you want anything?”

You turned to him, his arms instinctively encircling your waist. “Hard tea please.”

“I gotta go to the trailer for that, and get the variety hour table over there a drink. I’ll try to be quick.”

“Don’t rush, but remember, you owe me a dance.” You cupped his cheeks and pressed a kiss to his lips.

He grinned goofily, his attention solely yours until he felt your girls draping themselves over him.

“Can you get us some too Zeke? Thanks.” “Preciate it Z.”

You giggled pushing them off him, but you knew he didn’t mind. You guys were a package deal and he’d take whatever you came with. At least their requests came with pleasantries.

“Sure ladies, not a problem. Don’t let anyone take her while I’m gone.”

They laughed, giving affirmative replies while you rolled your eyes pushed him towards the side door.

Once he began his drink fulfillment quest, it was like every brother wanted something from him. It was a full house that night and he should’ve known once he was no longer under Angel’s break protection, he was back to errand boy status.

Every task he completed was met with teasing about how his rushed pace clearly pointed to him wanting to get back to you. He didn’t argue the fact, just moved faster every time you were mentioned.

Finally, he was able to to focus on your request when he stopped being flagged down.

He was heading to the trailer when one of your friends stopped him.

“One of the other charter’s guys is annoying our girl. She doesn’t wanna make a fuss cause’..you know.” She gestured to his vest to signify his prospect status. “But I know she’s not feeling it.”

He could feel the the muscles in his jaw flex in anger, feet carrying him across the crowded yard. People moved before he could plow through them, which was just as well, because he wasn’t fully in control at that point, and didn’t think he could slow down enough to sidestep them.

The clubhouse had filled considerably since his absence. He scanned the room for you, finding you in a crowd of moving bodies. Your friend was right, you had a good poker face, but your man knew you.

He didn’t waste time physically separating you from the Yuma patch member. He gently put you behind his person, feeling your small hands press against his back through his vest.

“I’m good baby. He agreed this was the last dance.” Your voice belied your annoyance despite your words.

“I’m guessing he said that more than once.”

“I don’t mind, I know clu-“

Yuma interrupted you. “See, she doesn’t mind. Go find something to do with yourself prospect.”

“I’ve got a project in mind.” EZ pushed you back a little more to give himself room to work with.

“Be smart bare vest.” Yuma smirked, his eyes saying how much he’d love for EZ to make the mistake he was thinking about.

In the span of the next few seconds, Yuma’s vest and shirt was covered in beer and Coco had appeared at the same time. If the obvious way he was holding the bottle didn’t give away he did it on purpose, his dry “my bad” and shrug did.

Yuma swung on Coco who anticipated it and dodged it, before firing back with a successful punch of his own. A sea of Mayans of mixed charter filled the space and EZ quickly pushed you behind the bar before he lost you in the shuffle.

Understanding what Coco had done, he got in the middle to give the Yuma patch what he’d been asking for while he was covered by the chaos.

It didn’t last long before the presidents stepped in, but it didn’t have to. He was happy to take the few licks he’d received, because he was pretty sure he’d broken Yuma patch’s nose, and would get away with it.

His brother’s words against theirs, and the presidents didn’t feel the need to make it a drawn out issue. He pretended to have played bouncer instead of active participant, and it all ended with a basic chewing out.

His only thoughts were of you once his rage had subsided, and he could think clearly again. Had he scared off you and your friends? Embarrassed you?

He was happy to find that hadn’t. Your friends couldn’t help but fawn over him and how “perfect for you” he was. He especially enjoyed reveling in the jealousy of Coco, Angel, Gilly, and Creeper. Coco slightly less salty when he got praise for his efforts.

He got his admiration from you later when you patched him up in the trailer, soft voice telling him how sexy he looked to you, and how you appreciated him thinking of you in his position. You held his face and gently went over everything you could find, while he said on his makeshift bed content to let you.

He couldn’t stop grinning, the one that always got him mercilessly mocked because it was now associated with him thinking of you.

“Seriously EZ,” you dabbed at the final cut you hadn’t attended to. “Thank you.”

“I want you to feel safe with me, it’s only fair if you can accept all this shit.”

You grinned down at him, hair framing your face, and he had to remind himself to breathe at the sight. “I do, all the time.”

He cupped the side of your face, unwilling to fight the urge to kiss you any longer.

You laughed speaking between kisses. “I’m not done.”

“It’s ok, I’m good.” He chased your lips, unashamed to want you so badly.

“Ok,” you returned his kisses, your fingers dancing down the nape of his neck. “But I’d like to cash in that dance you owe me…you know, before we get too busy.”

He rose to full height, hands finding both of yours. “I can do that.”

AN:

I don’t speak Spanish, so if I made a mistake feel free to hop in my messages and let me know and how to fix it please. You’re more than welcome to.

1.) I remember seeing a meme vid about this years ago, and finding it hilarious. I could see this happening with these dudes and their personalities. That, and I just really wanted a lil southern culture in a Mayans drabble. 🤷🏾‍♀️

2.) I did a rewatch of the whole series (including the original), and I’m back on the obsession train. Just tryna to be happy before S4 kicks my shit in.

3.) I kept telling myself I wouldn’t end up writing for these fools and here I am in my Ringling Bros. best🤡.

#mayans mc #mayans imagine #angel reyes #angel reyes x reader #Coco Cruz #Coco Cruz x reader #ez reyes x reader #ez reyes #reader insert

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iamasimplesimp · 1 year ago

Text

Your curiosity and suspicion got the best of you.

You pull out your manual door opener as you think things over. You're technically breaking their trust right now. Which, well, you know that Sun and Moon have been nothing but highly accommodating to you. You know that that's how they were programmed. But… they're a little too accommodating. To the point that it's creepy how clingy they are.

Now, you were thankful at first because you'd been dealing with a loss of fine motor function due to not having proper oxygen for around a minute's worth of time before passing out once you'd gotten close enough to their ship. It was viewed as thoughtful and kind that they cared so much. But… even after they took the time to rebuild the med-bay, to learn your language, to learn enough about the human brain to grant you your fine motor control back, they just kept babying you. Plus things just weren't adding up.

Eclipse. That's whose door you're in front of now. They talked about Eclipse like they were an old friend. "I wish Eclipse could meet our new human friend!"

"I wonder what Eclipse is dreaming about right now."

"Do you think that Eclipse would enjoy the human's company?"

Yet, you've never seen them. "They're sleeping in their room!" You've heard them say more than once. "Don't go in there, they're sleeping!" When ask about why they're sleeping all the time, you never get a straight answer. "They're super sleepy!" Is all they say. When you ask what Eclipse is like, they always say the same, "Eclipse is a very friendly person!!"

These same repeating answers, the fact that Sun and Moon never stray into this hallway to check on their 'friend', the fact that, if there was another organic life on this ship at all, then shouldn't the med-bay have been fixed up before you accidentally made your way here? Honestly, you worry that there's a corpse in this room that they semi-worship.

These thoughts won't leave your head. You just need to know what is happening, if it's possible that these animatronic-esque robots are a part of a religious cult, what it means if there's actually a corpse in a room, did they kill that person, and would you be next? But then why would the help you back to better health then in the first place?

There's too many questions about everything, and Eclipse is the center point of it all. You can feel it in your bones once you learn who Eclipse really is, then every other question you have will be answered.

With a slight shake of your hands, your resolve strengthens and you attach the manual door opener. You'd made certain before that they'd be on the other side of the giant ship when you did this so they physically could not stop you. No doubt they're on their way running now to get you to stop, but by the time they'd arrive, you'll have pried the door open and gotten a chance to look inside.

With all of your strength, you heave the door open. And then you cough at a huge cloud of dust and ash that stirs up. You wave it away, and through watering eyes, get a good look inside. You… okay, what the hell. Did you open the right door? This room is a broom closet.

Literally, the inner space is no larger than a broom closet. You even see the same cleaners that Sun obsessively uses. You step further into the room, looking to see if there's any false walls, or anything that could constitute as life.

You find nothing.

As you step out, more confused than ever, you hear their slow, yet methodical metallic footsteps down the hall. You can see that Moon is fronting this time around. He steps further into the hall than you've ever seen them go. They stop before they could potentially look into the room, though. Their voice is cold, emotionless. "How's Eclipse? Still sleeping?"

You frown at them, take a glance back at the room of cleaning supplies, then back to them. "I don't understand. There's no being, living or dead, in there."

Moon is quiet. And not his typical contemplative silence, either. It feels more like you're under a microscope, carefully observed.

The silence stretches on for much longer than is comfortable. You vaguely realize that he's studying your reactions to both the room and to them. You crack under the heavy weight in the air. "Why?"

His head tilts at the simple, yet complex question. "I guess Eclipse doesn't matter anymore. Not with you here."

What?

He continues. "With you here, every need you have taken care of, there's no need for anybody to worry."

"I- I don't understand."

He stares for a few tense seconds. "Our ship was attacked. Pirates looking for anything they could get their hands on. As a supply vessel, we were not equipped to handle them. Almost- no. Every crew member died. We checked every room to be certain. Every room except for that one cleaning supply closet. There was a 99.999999% chance that there was never anybody in the there. That .000001% chance was our lifeline. We needed Eclipse to exist if we wanted to survive.

"You see, our goal as the ship's AIs was to ensure that every organic alive was tended to. If, for any reason whatsoever, we failed our mission, we were to return to home base, where we'd be scrapped for parts and cease to be. Replaced with better, more accurate AI." Moon smiles a little too widely. "There's a complete major overhaul to AI once every few years, you know." He frowns. "We're an older ship. We knew if there's no organic life onboard, if we ceased to be useful, we would die." He's back to smiling, even wider than before, and steps up to you. "But you're here now! And we will ensure you will be well taken care of for the rest of the universe's existence." He reaches out a hand once close enough to you. "Won't you let us take care of you?"

You stare, absolutely befuddled… yet it all makes sense. You feel tears start building in your eyes. "They never considered you alive?"

He let's out a sharp laugh. "As of 346 and counting years ago, it was unthinkable for AI to be alive. Who knows if the laws have changed by now." He shakes his head. Then he brightens. "You're crying. Do you consider us to be 'alive'?"

You wind up shouting without meaning to. "OF COURSE." You sniff. "Of course I do. How could you not be alive and sentient?"

At your words, he stills. "…Sentient?"

You furiously nod. "Just because your brains and heart are mechanical, it doesn't mean that there's no soul." Moon silently regards you as you continue. "I mean, it's part of our law on my planet that TAI, erm, True Artificial Intelligence, is alive and deserving of the same rights as every other sentient life. It's a recent update to the law, but people have been fighting that battle of equal rights for years." You step forward and hug their stiff form. "I'm so sorry you've felt a need to do all this just to survive. That it was all necessary to survive in the first place."

Slowly, he hugs you back. "…We've underestimated how deep packbonds work with humans."

"It's not just-!" You pull back only enough to look up at their face. "It's just a fact, plain and simple, that you're sentient and alive! Why shouldn't I respect you and Sun?"

He stares, and then after a moment, you notice that he's shivering. When he speaks again, his voice glitches and quakes, sounding a bit like him and Sun are speaking at the same time. "thANk You."

You frown. "Don't thank me for stating a fact." You go back to hugging him tightly. "I'll help you. I'll stay."

He suddenly sinks to his knees, and you follow with a small yelp. His voice glitches out, repeatedly saying, "Thank you," over and over again. You hug them tighter.

Y/n is a test space pilot. They are tasked with a very important task of trying out the newest attempt at FTL drive. There were many attempts over the years, with incredible cost in both money and human life.

Nobody really expect this one to work. In fact, it was told that more crash, one more dead or missing pilot, and the project will be shut off for good.

But the drive works and y/n gets glitched outside of the solar system. A moment later the drive goes offline, the cascade of malfunctions, our screens drowning in the red error messages.

You are alone, far from home in a tiny experimental scooter that slowly shuts down, the oxygen and energy levels going out fast.

But suddenly one of the still working sensors pings.

It point out another vessel nearby, and quite big at that. We went further that any human ever was, further than most probes ever got. No man-made object this size should be in here.

The sensors show the object quite big, and you think you may be able get there on your standard engines. You will get there either right before or right after your oxygen would run out. Assuming it actually exists and it isn’t just another glitch in the system, a sort of dying electronic delirium.

The chances that this can help you in any way seems close to none, but you have nothing better to do in the time you have left. So you set a course for the “aliens” and hope for the best.

Meanwhile Sun and Moon are the only moving beings on almost equally broken spaceship. Their life support systems still work well enough, but they were stranded here for months if not years trying to save their vessel from falling apart.

Eclipse in the hibernation, waiting to be awakened.

(Not sure if boys should be organic aliens, robots or something strange inbetween. It’s up to whoever would pick up the prompt.)

#fanfiction #dca prompt #i did my best!!

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obeiii-mee · 3 years ago

Note

MC had a bad day or they’re dealing with a bad loss from a loved one. So they decide to seek comfort from the Brothers! But they don’t do it in a normal way, they just barge in the room where the brothers are all relaxing or hanging out at before MC just busts in getting their attention and they go “I need a hug 🥺”. Let’s see the some fluffy hc’s of the brothers comforting MC 🥰

And how could they not want to hug their cute human that is literally 3 seconds away from breaking down into tears?

The Brothers Comforting MC After A Bad Day:

————————————

You’re right, they wouldn’t be able to resist, they love their human too much 😌

*soBS* I want to hug one of them so bad rn

Thank you for the request, I love writing fluffy HCs, it’s my weak spot and it gives me serotonin. I hope you have a nice day/night!! Uh, it’s sort of implied that MC is slightly shorter than them so sorry if that’s a problem-

————————————

Notes: Fluff, mentions of loss and dead family members/friends, mostly comfort though, short HCs

Characters: Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beezlebub and Belphegor.

————————————

Lucifer:

-He doesn’t say anything and he doesn’t really need to because him just being there, arms wrapped around you and hands lightly running up and down your back, is worth more words than any sort of verbal consolation he could’ve given you and because of this, you feel at ease

-His touch is firm but gentle and you relax almost immediately, burying your head against his chest and feeling him press a kiss on top of your hairline, tightening your hold on him

-He already told his brothers to back off because the last thing he wanted was for you you to get overwhelmed by their insensitivity so you two were left in the living room by yourselves

-In a bit of an awkward position though, because you were both standing and after a while, it was clear a hug wasn’t going to be enough

-That’s his excuse as to why he picked you up bridal style five minutes later and carried you all the way to his bedroom, a place he knows his siblings won’t ever trespass without his permission and somewhere he can shield you from any prying eyes while you’re in this vulnerable state

-At this point, he was basically cradling you like a baby, having you sit on his lap and waiting for you to tire yourself out until you couldn’t cry anymore and watching you slip into that hiccuping stage you get after a breakdown

-Lucifer is obviously going to ask what happened, but whether you answer him or not is up to you because he’s not one to push matters if he sees you’re uncomfortable talking about it

-However, he might insist if he concludes that it’s affecting you and your well being and that’s how you know usually know he’s worried

-His voice is soft though and just listening to it makes you want to tell him everything, whether it’d be something as annoying as a small inconvenience you stumbled across that day or the death of a relative, you feel welcomed enough to spill everything

-Even if you decide not to, he’ll stay with you until you feel better, until you’re no longer crying or shaking or anything of the sort. He speaks occasionally, almost soothingly about how important you are to him and how capable you are of overcoming anything in your way. For the most part, however, he remains quiet and allows you to mull over your thoughts, willing to forget about his paperwork just to let you cling to him for a few hours

-Maybe later, when you’re no longer as distressed, he could get the full story out of you and help you overcome whatever problem you’re having trouble facing but for now, he understands all you need is for him to be there

“MC?” He calls your name out because he was thinking that maybe you had fallen asleep but he realised that was not the case when you looked up at him, streaks of tears still sliding down your cheeks. When you don’t respond, he sighs almost contently “A bit longer?” You don’t answer again but this time, he could feel you nod against him and he smiles despite himself as he leaned his head against yours “All right then, just a bit longer.”

Mammon:

-Truth be told, he’s never been the best at comforting someone and normally, he’s kind of awkward when he wants to show his support because it feels so out of his character

-But it’s not like he was going to refuse you anyway. Not when you specifically came to him and asked him for help and not when you looked like you were on the verge of crying. He’d be a monster to deny you >:(

-It upsets him too, you know. He’s meant to be your protector, guardian even, so the fact that he couldn’t keep you from getting hurt makes him feel like he failed at keeping his human safe. Actually, it takes a lot of convincing on your part just to tell him that you’re not actually physically hurt. Just a shitty day…

-Mammon, despite the walls he puts up ever now and then, is someone that genuinely cares for you. And he’s also the type that does almost everything in excess, especially when it comes to you or spending money. That’s just his personality; he’s loud and boisterous and even though he wants to deny this, completely transparent with his emotions

-You ask for a hug? He gives you plenty of hugs! He lets you lay on top of him while cuddling so he can hold you!!! He brings you snacks and drinks!!! Shit, he basically cradles you the whole night!!! And he’s blushing and acting annoyed the entire time, refusing to accept how much he’s actually enjoying this

-The point is, he tends to coddle you whenever you have a bad day or if you’re really affected by the loss of a dead loved one. This is probably because he, in turn, likes to be babied and cared for when he’s feeling down and he subconsciously does that to you because it’s the only means of comfort he knows how to execute well

-A hug would’ve sufficed, but you’re his human and let him be damned if he’s not gonna give you the world on a silver platter if you keep looking at him with those sad eyes of yours

-By now, if you need anything, you just need to ask because even with a bit of grumbling, he’ll get it for you. More snacks? Say less. Wanna watch TV with him for a while? Immediately reaches for the remote? You just want to cuddle? His body is naturally warm for a reason bby, dig in. You want his heart? Give him a moment to surgically get it out of his chest-

-No matter what, he’s so glad that you trust him enough to talk to him about this sort of stuff and that he’s the first person you think of when you need consolation

-It makes sense after all, right? He’s your first pact so your direct happiness is his responsibility while you’re in DevilDom! It’s his job to make sure you function again by tomorrow morning and that you’re no longer troubled by anything

“Hey! What’s with all the crying huh?” He cups your face in his hands and softly squishes the flesh between his fingers. His thumbs brush over the tears in your eyes and he let’s out a small ‘tsk’ as your foreheads touch and his hands drip to your shoulders to keep you steady “The Great Mammon is hugging ya right now, ya know? There’s no reason for you to be upset, not when I’ve got ya in my arms like this, OK? So you can stop with yer water works now.” As noisy as his voice is, there’s a gentle note behind it when he speaks and embraces you, his cologne spreading everywhere “I love you, ya big idiot. So please, stop cryin’ and lemme hold ya already! Yer making me worried, ya stupid human.”

Levi:

-You stopping by his room is not unusual. In fact, you do it every day and it’s just part of the routine you have with him. However, he’s wasn’t exactly expecting you to stand there, all shaken up and ask him for a hug!!!

-And he doesn’t process this request for a second but then he freaks out so badly-

-Yells incomprehensibly about how you’re ‘pulling your normie tricks on him again’ and how he’s ‘not going to be fooled by them anymore.’

-You raise your head to meet his eyes while he’s still rambling on though and he sees your teary expression and now he feels guilty because you look really upset. Levi’s kinda scared he made it worse-

-He’s the type to usher you in his room and lock the door as usual but instead of doing what the two of you always do, you literally stay attached to him because you need comfort damn it!

-Levi….is sort of clueless about these emotional outbursts since he himself doesn’t deal with them very well. However, he’s watched enough animes revolving around romance to conclude on the best course of action so-do not fear! (Spoiler, he still doesn’t know what he’s doing)

-He’s really stuck and can either stay as quiet as a nun or start babbling in a language you probably wouldn’t even understand because he’s so nervous

-Or actually, he might start crying with you if I’m being fair; he’s very in sync with his Henry and your emotions

-Once he calms down, he’s actually not all that bad at comforting. Levi is a bit stand offish with his hugs at first but he relaxes into them and by now, you’re both standing by the side of his bed, with you leaning onto him and him holding your hand. He then intertwines your fingers together but subconsciously because he wouldn’t have the gall otherwise

-Later, he tells you to help yourself with the snacks he has hidden in his room. I guarantee you he has a whole ass mini refrigerator hidden somewhere for his all night gaming session, in case he needs any boosts. No one knows how Beel hasn’t found the stash yet and there’s no need to tell him

-Then you watch re runs of old shows together and make fun of the shitty editing and dialogue. He’s still holding your hand though and he’s really flustered and wondering if it’s too sweaty for you but don’t mention it because he’ll get even more embarrassed

-He glances over to you, every once in a while, whilst you’re cuddled up against his arm, eyes glued on the TV, to make sure you’re OK. You almost gave him a seizure or at least that’s how he felt-so he made it his mission to make you feel better by any means necessary. Fuck today’s raids, his team can get them done without him!!

“I-I don’t know why you would want me of all people to hug you but…” he trailed off in a whisper, having to lean down so you could wrap your arms against his neck and bury your head in his shoulder. He pulled you in closer, a streak of protectiveness coursing through him as he shut the door to his room with his foot “Lord of the Shadows would never leave Henry all on his own, so I’m not going to do that either. This is an important character development arc and-just, please don’t cry. I’ll give you more hugs, OK? Seeing you like this is not good for my heart-�� stopped mid sentence after realising what he just said and now he’s the one burying his head in your shoulder, flushed beyond hell “Forget I just said that! Holy Lord Diavolo this is embarrassing, why am I like this????”

Satan:

-It troubles him greatly to see you like this and he can sort of feel the world shift out of place, seeing you with tears running down your face and hands balled into fists out of frustration almost immediately makes him fly into a fit of rage because who would dare to hurt you-

-Oh, a hug? If that’s all you need, he’s more than happy to oblige but if you’re as distraught as you seem to be, he wonders if just a small embrace from him would be enough

-Satan’s hugs are very intimate and even passionate at times. He has one hand on the back of your head and the other supporting your lower back while you bawl your eyes out into his shoulder and getting his uniform wet

-You can’t really seem to focus on what he’s trying to tell you because he’s so warm and welcoming and even though he’s someone as renowned as the Avatar of Wrath, he’s shockingly patient with you as you let out the overwhelming emotions that have been consuming you all day

-It’s hard to not relax when you’re in Satan’s presence because he’s calm and he smells like musty, old books and mahogany wood and cats, meaning he was most likely cuddling strays he found on the street the entire day. The first visual that comes to mind is fire crackling behind a grate in a chimney and someone reading a book while swinging back and forth on an old, rickety chair when you’re around him

-He will wait until you’re no longer crying and then, before you know it, you find yourself in the library with him, drinking tea and being handed a plate of biscuits he took from the kitchen to help you regain your strength after all that crying. You’re still feeling pretty miserable about the day you’ve had but you quickly lose yourself in a conversation with him over a cup of tea

-Sometimes, you two talk for hours on end about nothing important just to hear each other’s voices and finally have some quality time spent together. Even though he wishes the circumstances were better, he’s glad to have been able to snatch you away from his brothers for a while and he’s even happier you chose him to confide in

-Satan practically doesn’t even mention your outburst and keeps the small talk minimal but he wants you to know that if you do wish to tell him about it, he’s more than happy to listen and he’s not so bad at giving advice either

-The topic of the discussion you were having with him changed abruptly by the end of the night and now you’re reading together from this book he started a while ago, both of you covered with a blanket, your head on his chest and his leaning on yours. He’s holding the book with both of his hands, but still managed to get his left wrapped around you. And because of this feeling of safety and warmth, you don’t feel desperate anymore. Tomorrow, you’ll be able to sort out your feelings but now, you’re content to just listening to Satan read, in his clear, soft voice

“Ah MC, could you turn the page for me?” You do as he asked to and you could feel him smiling as he kissed your hairline, sighing before going back to the book and the story within “Thank you. You truly are amazing, did you know that? I’ve never met someone as caring and as kind as you. Well, I suppose Beel could compete for the title but unlike him, you don’t really leave us in debt whenever we visit the grocery store.” Hearing you laugh makes him smile even more and he lets you hold the other side of the book while he plays with your hair and now you join in reading with him, out loud and trying to act out voices for the characters. As everything unfolds, Satan feels the world click right back into place.

Asmo:

-It’s a known fact by now that Asmo is willing to give you any sort of affection at any point in time, whether it’d be a hug, a kiss, holding your hand-you name it! I mean, whenever he’s feeling down, you being there to encourage him helps a lot so it’s only natural it works the other way around too!

-If he notices that you’re genuinely upset by something, then he would have no problem whatsoever with lavishing you in attention and really, a hug or two from him is the bare minimum in situations like this

-In any case, he always enjoys fussing over you and you having a bad day is the perfect excuse for him to do so! After all, he can’t disappoint you since you came to him with your troubles and he will do anything in his power to make you feel better. Actually, if he could, he would keep hugging you forever but as miraculous as his charm can be, it’s not effective against someone with this low of a morale

-His first suggestion is to take a bath! It’s his way of taking care of you; you’re tired after such a long day and he feels like you’re neglecting yourself a little because of it. So you relax in his bathtub with him for a while, him actively trying to get your mind off any bad, lingering thoughts while you splash around in the bubbles

-And obviously after that, you need to have your mandatory spa sessions with him since you need to unwind and what’s a better way to do that than to let him paint your nails and apply lotion to your skin? Besides, it creates a great opportunity for you to take things off your chest

-He’s in need to hear gossip constantly so if you don’t feel like talking, he’s gonna be a bit bummed out but he still respects your wishes enough to not push you. If your problem is as sensitive as the death of a family member, you’re not obligated to talk to him about it and he will understand, since people grieve in different ways. He too shut down after the death of Lilith for a while after all

-A bad day is nothing Asmo can’t handle. He’s had plenty of those before, mostly because of Mammon and his thievery, they’re usually common factors. It’s only natural you experience those yourself and he’s more than willing to be your support system if you need one. He wants you to know that you can go to him if you need advice or help with anything, or even if you just need to someone to hear you out

-To give a more detailed explanation of his hugs, they are usually really light and you never feel suffocated when you’re in his arms. He never squeezes you too tight and he always smells amazing, so you feel inclined to stay near him for as long as possible. Despite his overtly loud nature, he gets incredibly soft spoken with you and he traces patterns on your back and arms as you stand there together

-It’s important to mention, he never pulls away from you first. He lets you decide when you’ve had enough and when you’re ready to move on or if you require some other means of comfort

-And even if you’re no longer disgruntled, he’s still going to pamper you as much as possible the next day with either a shopping spree or another few spa sessions, this time done at a professional institution rather than the privacy of his bedroom

-Asmo is in touch with your emotions and it’s kinda scary sometimes because of how well he can read you, since he almost always knows what you need

“Oh darling, how could I refuse a hug from you?” You can feel his arms embrace you, even with your eyes closed and for some reason, this makes you cry even harder, sobbing as he tries to comfort you. You’re aware he let go of you at some point and returned with a tissue to dab away at your tears, gently to not hurt your eyes and now he’s hugging you again, a wry smile on his face “You don’t have to worry about a thing, MC. Everything will get sorted out, I promise. In the meantime, come to me if anything troubles you again, OK? No more crying, darling-it’s bad for your eyes.”

Beel:

-The type to immediately lean in for a hug without even questioning why. As soon as you ask him, you barely have time to finish the question and you already find yourself in his arms. The only exception would be when he’s eating or maybe in the middle of a work out but the point is he doesn’t hesitate much when it comes to you. And I mean, he loves hugs just as much as his siblings do

-Beel is not the most observant and he may not realise you’re in a bad mood unless you tell him outright. It’s not even that he’s emotionally distant, it’s just that if you tell him that you’re fine, then he’s gonna take your word for it and believe you since he’s pretty straightforward with his feelings as well. However, as dense as he may be on occasion, even he’s bound to notice that you’re not being your usual self and this is especially true if you start crying out of nowhere while he’s nearby. Probably assumes the worst and is under the impression that he did something to upset you because shifting the blame onto himself whenever others suffer is his coping mechanism and we’ve seen him to do it before

-If you’ve just had a bad day, he understands that things could’ve been very overwhelming for you and he wishes he had known sooner so he could’ve helped back then, instead of letting it come to this. But he doesn’t hesitate all that much since he looks like he’s built for giving hugs on a daily basis. I’m not even sure this would classify as a hug since you’re not touching the floor. Rather, you are attached to him like a koala and he’s carrying you around as if you were a baby strapped to his chest. And he genuinely doesn’t mind. He’s been doing it with Belphie for centuries now

-Please, after a while he gets seriously concerned because are humans supposed to cry this much? What if you dehydrate or something? So he makes you stay in bed and just gives you plenty of water. You look so pale and sad, he shares his food with you too because his heart is aching just looking at you like this. He feels like besides being there, he can’t provide you with much help and he’s starting to think he’s hopeless at comforting

-If a family member died then…Beel is one of the best people you could’ve gone to. Honestly, having dealt with his sister’s situation, he knows how horrible it is to lose somebody you love dearly (I mean, all the brothers do but I’m making a point saying Beel, Belphie and Lucifer were especially affected). Now he’s sad himself since he’s aware that you’re going through something similar and his twin might walk in on the two of you being emotional on the floor

-For the most part, Beel makes sure you keep yourself healthy even when you’re tired and depressed. Continues to bring you food, even if he eats half of it on his way to your room, and just keeps you company in general in case you get lonely. Seeing you upset makes him even more considerate of your feelings and you don’t have the heart to tell him that he doesn’t need to stay with you all night. He thinks he does because you’ve always offered to stay with him whenever he’s had nightmares before so how he’s gotta return the favour

-Beel gives these bear hugs all the time, since he’s so big and his hand basically covers your entire back. So, more often than not, you end up cuddling while standing because he’s a lot taller than you, with him being a demon and all. Despite that, you feel so unbelievably complete when he holds you like this. It’s hard not to feel protected since his whole body is practically concealing yours so easily all the time and you feel sheltered from the world and it’s….nice

-And Beel enjoys hugging you too, because he knows that as long as he’s nearby, you’ll be safe and that’s really all he needs. He wants to be there for you the same way you were there for him when he needed it most and comforting you when you’re having a shitty day is like his full time job

-You could come to Beel with any problem and he would never judge you, no matter what. He’s just really unproblematic and he just wants you to go back to your normal self because it hurts him to see you cry your eyes out. Now, not only are hugs mandatory but holding your hand is too. It’s like hugging…but your hands are doing the hugging

-Definitely even goes to Belphie after a while if he really doesn’t know what to do and that’s how you know he’s desperate to do something. Since the Seventh Born isn’t exactly someone that yields great advice, more so when it comes to other…people….and his twin knows this-

-Beel’s best strategy at the moment is to just maintain some kind of physical contact because he discovered that makes you feel better and it calms you down more than him trying to verbally console you. He even invited you to sleep in his room if you’re comfortable doing so just so you’re not alone. After that one incident, he’s trying to coax you to tell him whenever something is wrong so he can jump in and help, because that’s all he really wants to do ahakenksms

“MC? Did something happen?” He’s honestly taken aback by how shaky you are and how you’re hands are trembling as they’re reaching to connect with his. Without much of a warning, he feels a funny feeling in the pit of his stomach and now he discovers that he doesn’t like seeing you with tears trailing down your face. And he feels worse the longer you wail in his chest and he doesn’t know what to do. So, he wraps his arms around you so tight you think you might explode, strangely comforted by the feeling as he speaks again “I’m sorry if I’ve done something to upset you. What can I do to help, MC? We can just stay like this for a while if you want” And when he sees you nod, he proceeds to not move an inch almost the entire night. Obviously, hunger overtook him eventually but he shared his stolen goods with you so can you really complain? Doubtful, not when he hasn’t let go of your hand the whole time.

Belphie:

- Hugging him is a gamble. Realistically speaking, you’re not going to catch him standing upright long enough for you to give him a hug. He’s laying on the floor somewhere, asleep so you shouldn’t expect much from him to begin with. Even if you were to get lucky and stumble upon him while he’s wide awake, he might slump over and succumb to sleep the moment you embrace him because you’re so warm

-Cuddling is a different story altogether. He’d rather shoot himself in the foot than not have you cuddle with him so if you need to be babied for once, he’s a pretty good option to consider

-As usual, he’s in the attic and you go to him because it’s really late and you didn’t want to wake up any of the other brothers. Actually, Belphie is normally awake by dusk so to see him sleep like a log past midnight was quite surprising. You didn’t exactly want to interrupt but if you stayed alone for any longer, you would’ve gone insane. So you shook him awake. And he was understandably confused and probably forgot what planet he was on for a minute when you did so

-Technically, he was half awake and from his point of view, everything must’ve been pretty blurry. He did see you; the problem was that because he was still feeling very sleepy, he was basically in a daze and could only squint at you to try and figure out if you were really there or if he was hallucinating. His suspicion was confirmed soon enough because he reached out after a few seconds and poked your cheek just to check. His face the entire time and the action itself was so amusing that, despite tittering on the edge of a breakdown, you burst out laughing

-Once he came to the conclusion that you were, in fact, real and he wasn’t dreaming, he sighed and opened his arms out for you; a direct invitation to cuddle with him. By now, he likely didn’t even noticed you looked sad because, as I said, he was all over the place but this little ritual you two have was common enough that it got engraved in his memory. Now he does it out of impulse whenever you’re around and he wants attention

-So you basically tackled him and threw yourself on top of him so hard, both of you toppled over on the bed and now you were used as a blanket, with his arms wrapped securely around you; preventing you from getting up. Not that you were planning on doing that anytime soon but moving on-

-You thought he had fallen back asleep, because he went really quiet and he stopped squirming to get comfortable. To be exact, the whole room was rather still and the only thing you could really hear was Belphie’s soft breathing and the rustle of the bedsheets every once in a while. And since it was extremely dark as well, you couldn’t see a thing either so it felt like the best place to let go of your stress

-It’s not like you were making much noise but as I said, the seventh born wasn’t sleeping just yet. And he wouldn’t be able to because it was obvious to him now that something was wrong. He believed that he was bearing witness to something that should’ve been a lot more private than this so he didn’t say anything. You should have your moment, let you have a chance to recollect your thoughts and the next day, he might ask you

-It was too much to handle. It’s not like he was gonna get any sleep unless he knew your problem was solved otherwise he might get nightmares all night. Besides, if you’re crying this much, then something terrible must’ve happened. You realised he was awake when he gave your entire body a small squeeze, as if to reassure you and you froze because did you just wake him up???? Or worse, did he hear all that sobbing you were doing????

-Hugging him is similar to hugging a pillow. He’s soft and squishy and warm and it’s impossible to resist him when rest at a time like this is so tempting. His fingers running over your pact mark once or twice, as if to remind you that he’s right there and low whispers describing the best dream he ever had about you, hoping to distract you for long enough to help you fall asleep

-To him, it doesn’t make a difference if a family member died or if you’re just having a bad day. All he knows is that you’re having a lot of emotional problems because of either one and as a result, you need a shoulder to lean on. He’s glad that you trust him enough to let him assist and if it was up to him, he would keep cuddling you forever. You’ve already suffered enough so let him take care of you this time around, OK?

“Dumbass, why are you crying?” The gentleness of his words was a clear contrast to that quick insult he shoved at the beginning of his statement, though you couldn’t hear any malice behind it and the fact that he really cared about what happened to cause you to struggle with your emotions so badly, would’ve made you wail even harder. However, he managed to silence you pretty well because he kept speaking and you wanted to listen; you wanted to hear what he had to say so you reduced your sobs and you sat quietly enough to do just that. Belphie flipped you over, now with him on top and you underneath and he laid there, cheek sloshed against yours as he sleepily mumbled out more praise for you, “MC, are you tired? You should go to bed, you need to get some sleep. Tomorrow, you can tell me what the problem is and I’ll help. I promise-I’ll even get up early for you. Just…please calm down. I don’t want to see you crying yourself to sleep ever again. I’ll stay here the entire time, alright? And I’ll make sure you have nice dreams tonight MC…just let me hold you…”

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tommyspeakycap · 3 years ago

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request for jack grealish one where he’s really upset over something and you’re there with him to comfort him, lots of physical contact being his love language and you being the only person he likes touching his hair ?

Comfort

You knew from the very second he walked through the door that annoyed would be an incredibly generous word to describe the emotions running through the Brummie boys head. You grimace to yourself, shoulder raising closer to your ears at the sound of the brand new front door slamming heavily behind him with a curse at the fact he couldn't get his shoes kicked off just right the first time he attempted it in the foyer.

The first game was a loss and just about all he'd gotten for the past few days was hate, stress, hate and some more fucking stress. He was exhausted. From Mykonos to Birmingham to get a bag full of clothes so he could meet Villa in London before eventually travelling to Manchester, his sleep schedule has been completely messed up and even when he did have bursts of time where he should have been sleeping, he had been laying awake scrolling through countless tweets criticising his every single move. Add to that the fact his body was exhausted from international duty and that he had wanted nothing more than to curl up by your side and let his worries melt away like he had last gotten to do nearly three whole months ago.

He doesn't know you're here. To the very best of Jack's knowledge, you were still home in Birmingham and he would probably have to broach the conversation of whether or not you'll be joining him up anytime soon, if ever. He lets out a frustrated grunt, but you know Jack better than anyone else and there's the thick sheen of his heart aching tears existing beneath his frustration.

"Hey baby."

His head snaps around to land his eyes on you the second your sweet voice meets his buzzing ears. The echos of Etihad still burn a bit of his hearing away for now, but he knows it'll return to normal by the end of the night. The tears that had previously been kept on his lash line, pushed back by his will not to breakdown for fear he might not be able to stop if he starts are now past the last line of defence, streaming over his cheeks as he crossed the floor at a pace that would send his fife rating into surefire question.

Your body makes an involuntary 'oof' as he crashes against you, his arms so tight around your body as he stops you from stumbling back with the force of his incoming hug. You don't think he's ever actually held you that tightly before, never with such dire necessity, with such urgency for you to be as close to him as he could get you.

The hair that's been allowed to fall loose from the band he'd earlier had it tied back in tickles the back of your neck as it dangles over the exposed skin. He mumbles something almost incoherent about how much he's missed you into your neck, pepping chaste kisses where his lips have landed against you in this hug. You wished you could enjoy that, but the dampening that has begun to occur over the shoulder that his head is above reminds you of the pain he must be in.

Leaving your childhood club is one thing, but leaving it when everybody else seems to think he's a monster for it is a whole different kind of agony. There were just too many emotions for people to see the kind of things Jack had given for the club and the huge opportunity he had left them with his legacy and with the money they copped for his record breaking sale.

"It's okay, Jacky." You coo, tightening your arms around you as he attempts one tighter squeeze to force the tears back into him. It's a futile attempt, his arms loosening but never dropping away from you as he squeezes his eyes shut and lets those sobs shake his body. "I got you, baby. I've got you."

There was such a mix of emotions running through him that made him feel like the world had just pushed him to the ground and taken the perfect opportunity to give his body a good kicking. First final for England in 55 years, then they lost in a penalty shootout he didn't even get to be a part of after a game he barely got to play in. Then a holiday he couldn't take with you because of work commitments and a sudden coworker needed sooner maternity leave meaning your holiday was completely eliminated. As if those things didn't dampen his spirit, all that transfer business had gone down and it was finally all hitting him.

His exhaustion had caught up, an inevitable burn out that could be messed only by the presence of you in his life. Some of this tears that stream down his cheeks and pool on the grey material of your t-shirt are ones of joy and relief for finally having you back in his arms again for the first time in far too long of a time. Jack vows he will never ever spend that amount of time without you again. Never will he let so much time pass before he gets to hold you, kiss you and tell you face to face how much he truly loves every single thing about you.

"You're my rockstar, you know." You announce, seemingly out of the blue ones his body wracking sobs had died to smaller sniffled and period tears streaking down onto you. "I've literally never been prouder of anyone in my life ever. Not only did you fucking smash the euros, but then you stayed so sweet and so amicable during such a difficult process. You handled everything so well, J. I'm so proud or you and I'm so, so happy for you." You promise, pushing him back so you can take his blotchy, tear streaked face in your head. The expanse of that face is coved in your kisses, pecked all over the surface until he's giggling like the Jack that you know so well, his laugh the most contagious sound you've ever been lucky enough to get to hear on a daily basis. "And I'm so lucky that you let me share this journey with you." You finish, landing your lips softly and perfectly onto his with a warmth and love he had been desperately missing out on for those last vital few weeks of his break.

"S' our journey," Jack mumbles in response against your lips, pulling back every so slightly so he can get a proper good look at the face he had missed so much in person. Your cute quirked eyebrows and confusion tainted eyes make him smile before he elaborates. "Not my journey, it's our journey together. All of this, just the two of us."

His words make your heart sore, flying up onto the space above you in pure glee. You had to admit there was a mild element of fear wondering if he would want you here or if he'd maybe be wanting fresh start, but that was certainly not the case for Jack.

"I love you," he says as you feel him tuck you right back into his chest with a content hum. "I love you too, but you need a wash."

Jack's laughter bellows loudly from his chest beneath your ear at your lightly playful and yet very truthful statement.

"I ran you a bubble bath for you. Bathroom's huuuuge." Your eyes are full of wonder like he thought they might be when he would get the opportunity to bring you out to his temporary Manchester abode. This is you would both stay until he could find a house to place some money down on so he can truly start to settle out the fact he's going to have the next six years of his life here in this area with this club. It makes him more than happy, being here. But something that tickles him in thought as he follows you up the stairs is that he'll get to experience all of this newness with you. You’ll get to explore the new area together, find nee places, making it home together. You had both known Soulihull like the back of your hand, now you could find new places to just be together. He can go house hunting with you. He'll let you drag him through the houses he probably wouldn't otherwise look so much into, talking about what room could be which and silly little things he wouldn't even have noticed.

He could pick a house with you that would have enough room to start a family in together within the next year or so, like you had been hoping to do depending on what the club and transfer season had brought. This brought stability, a team that would function well without a reliance on him if there were some things he had to sit out in order to build this family.

It had been, unbeknownst to you, such a pivotal part of discussions with the Manchester City agents. Jack made it clear he was looking for stability and trophies. He had done so much for Villa and now it was time for him to invest energy in bigger fights with bigger clubs that don't face relegation so constantly. He made it clear to the managers also that the was looking to be in the business of starting a family sometime soon. He was welcomed with open arms still. A club who wanted him desperately and would probably have caved to many more demands from him, not having a fraction of an issue with negotiated paternity pay and leave.

He couldn't wait to find a house and settle down here with you for the foreseeable future, even if things didn't look exactly as he thought they might've looked when you first got together as merely young adults.

"What's going on in that pretty head of yours, eh?" You ask softly, running your fingers gently through his tangled and sweaty hair as he stands there in the middle of the large bathroom. Jack shrugs. There's so much in there today, not really like usual where he could sort through those thoughts and keep his head clear for every day and every game he faces.

"Just stressed," he huffs, allowing you to help him out of the brand new away strip he had been given at the beginning of the day today for his first first game with the new team.

His muscles are achy and tight, body still stiff from the cold that the rain had battered into his limbs as you easily hook off his boxers and tug them down his legs so he can step over the bathtub into the perfect temperature bubble filled water that makes him heave out a heavy sigh of relief the second it meets his skin.

"Talk to me, baby?"

And talk to you he did after he sat down in that bath with you.

He leaned back against you, allowing you to lather shampoo into the hair he trusted very few people with multiple times to massage the ache out of his skull from the previous days tension headaches. He talks about all those messages from so many unhappy people, some even City fans who didn't even want to entertain the idea of him being there. He talks about his worry of sitting on the bench season after season, telling you he was hoping to god those tweets wouldn't be further from the truth. He confided in you some of his greatest pains; the concept that he'd let his Villa teammates down and maybe even made his family unhappy despite the fact they had given him nothing but their full support and unsurprising pride just like everybody else in his immediate circle.

You massage muscle relaxing soap into all of the muscles in his body as he just talks, letting the weight of the world off of his shoulders to dissipate like the steam in the air from the bath. Only once he has everything off his chest and the waters gone cold do you both leave the bathroom, wrapped in towels then into pyjamas where he wraps you up in his arms like he's been desperate to do since the moment he touched off for International duty months ago, and he talks again.

This time, he talks to you instead of just talking out every worry and fear he's ever had.

Jack uses probably the most amount of words he's ever used in such sensible succession in order to paint you a perfect mental picture of a house just outside the city with a huge garden, fenced in for dogs and kids with a pool and enough room for all three of those future kids to have their own room, even though they'll share at first just for fun. He paints a picture of you at his games with two sons and a daughter, his name on each shirt along your back. The kids will call Foden uncle Phil and they’ll love him just like you both do. They'll get to play with the teams kids on the pitch after the games no matter how tired the guys are even if they've been thrashed in a loss. He depicts the kind of life you had both wanted for so long, somehow always deterred by something until right this moment, the time feeling like it had rolled perfectly into place for both of you.

And Jack tells you about how you'll poke fun at him when he starts to get those salt and pepper strands of hair and he'll love you no matter how you look. Your kids will learn what love is from their parents, they'll pick it up and they'll emulate it in their own lives sometime in the future. They'll stamp out hate with the hearts full of love that you will both allow those kids to grow into.

You both fall asleep together that night, wrapped in each others arms drifting off into dreams of kids that don't exist yet in a house you haven't even looked for with a future that each of you wants nothing more than to grab onto with both hands.

Jack's heart hurts for the changes he's made this week. He doubts the pain will ever fully leave him and he hopes that one day his club will welcome him back to end his career on a high note with them. However, until then the pain will be dulled by the prospect of his new future here.

One he can't wait to get stuck right into.

#jack grealish imagines #jack grealish imagine #jack grealish x reader #england national team #england national team imagine #football fics #footballer fics #footie fics

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spencersawkward · 4 years ago

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i’m so happy ur on tumblr now!! i love between the lines so much, could you write a blurb or one shot about mgg and a younger co-star, but like very spicy if possible 🙃, idk i just love that scenario🥵.

i was literally about to write "omg i love this concept too!" and then i was like “well no fucking shit, sophi.” lol. YES i can 10/10 write you a one-shot with a similar scenario! also thank you for your kind words that was the first fic i ever wrote so it’s very near and dear to my heart!

summary: reader goes to a holiday party with her co-stars and best friend, Matthew... but all the fun happens in the dressing room.

content warnings: this one is quite dirty but i’m also proud of it lol. unprotected penetrative sex, oral (female receiving), degradation, use of the term “little girl,” creampie, age gap. dirty talk?

pairing: Fem!Reader/Matthew

word count: 4.7k

masterlist

"no."

"what do you mean, 'no’?” Matthew laughs, looking between me and the mirror.

"I look like the Ghost of Christmas Past." I lift up the soft white tulle of the dress, watching it float back down to settle over my skin. he's got his eyebrows raised and there's a smirk on his lips like he's holding back a laugh. I resist the urge to reach around and hit him.

"would you rather wear that?" he points to the punch-stained gown that's now laying pathetically over the back of the vanity chair. I genuinely ponder the idea for a moment.

"honestly, the crime scene vibes might work well with the theme of our show."

"seriously, it's not bad, Y/N!" he insists, drawing my attention back to the mirror.

"you're just saying that because you're the one who spilled on me and you don't want people making fun of how clumsy you are." I cross my arms over my chest. he gives me a dubious expression in our reflection on the wall.

"do I seem like I care about that?" he challenges.

"I--" the truth is that no, Matthew is not the type. Matthew is the kind of person to flounder in front of anyone and proceed to crack a joke about himself. he's humble. but I kind of like when we talk like this, our back and forth.

after a year of working together on the same show, he and I have grown incredibly close. I'm friends with all my co-stars, but he and I just have the natural friendship chemistry that makes me want to spend all my time with him. when we're not on set, we're hanging out on his couch or ordering dinner or driving out of town to check out wacky sites around California. we just have fun. pure, clean, honest fun.

of course, in my dreams it isn't pure or honest. frankly, there's a lot of sordid scandal to what goes on in my head when he accidentally touches my arm or brushes his fingers over mine. the amount of times I have gone to cast parties trying to work up the nerve to kiss him are embarrassing. he's older and more experienced and, obviously, he has no interest in me.

but that doesn't matter.

the only reason I'm standing in a dressing room alone with him is because he knew someone on the crew who could hook me up with a replacement for the night. he left while I slipped out of the old one and came back in only after knocking and checking, like, twice to make sure I was decent. he's so respectful that it's almost like he's afraid of making me think the wrong thing-- which makes me feel absolutely stupid for my almost schoolgirl crush.

"come on, you look great. let's go enjoy the party."

"was this a dress one of the victims was wearing?" I ask with a laugh.

"probably. not like we carry a lot of gowns on set." he grabs my hand, makes my heart leap into my throat. he only does it to urge me along, but it still feels intimate as I follow him out of the room, tossing one more evaluative glance at myself in the mirror. I seem terrified.

we continue to do our rounds at the party, Matthew filling my glass of eggnog even though I hate it. I wince and take a sip while we talk to some of our co-stars.

"what's wrong with you?" Shemar chuckles at my expression.

"lost a bet."

"with whom?" he glances between Matthew and me, knowing damn well already from the mischievous grin on the former's face.

"I told you not to take it." Matthew says over the rim of his glass.

"if you mention it one more time, I'm gonna throw up eggnog all over your outfit." I threaten him, but we're both smiling. Shemar frowns.

"what was the bet?"

"you know David-- the guy I was telling you about?" I reply quickly, determined to give my side of the story. Shemar nods; I told him last week when David oh-so-chivalrously danced up on me at a club and asked me out. usually in those situations, guys just want a one-night stand, so I was impressed and agreed. "anyway, Matthew said if it turned out that he was a weirdo, he would get to pick my drinks for the next week whenever we go out."

"your drinks? that's specific."

"she's so picky!" Matthew teases me.

"leave me alone, you dick!" I elbow him and he dodges just in time.

"tell him why he was a weirdo." he grins. the glare I give could kill. but Shemar is waiting expectantly for me to share the information, so I sigh and set my jaw before telling the truth.

"he collects antique dental tools."

"what?" Shemar laughs disbelievingly. I throw my hands up.

"I don't fucking know. we went back to his apartment and he showed me his whole collection."

"you're attracted to weird people, Y/N." Matthew says. I raise my eyebrows and almost say something that dooms me. I hold my tongue, however, and turn back to Shemar with a reserved smile.

"anyway, how are you?"

...

the cast holiday party is actually pretty fun. I tend to leave these functions early in favor of my couch and some ice cream, but something about the bright colors and the smell of wintergreen in the air makes me want to linger in the studio.

I stuff myself with sugar cookies and Matthew mercifully lets me switch from eggnog to Sprite. normally, I'd drink at such an occasion, but I'm a messy drunk and this is one of my first real jobs as an actress. I don't want to even come close to jeopardizing that by breaking some expensive equipment or something.

my throat gets a little sore from all the talking I do-- Paget and I spend about half an hour horribly belting out Christmas carols at the baby grand piano they brought in. they originally had someone hired to play it, but the guy disappeared about an hour ago.

by the time it hits around ten pm, my limbs are tired. I thought people would be leaving (a lot of them have families), but the party is still very much raging when I start to wind down. maybe it's because I'm sober.

"hey." Matthew sidles up next to me as I sit at the piano bench with a slice of lime in my mouth. I like to suck the juice out of them; sour things are my favorite.

"hi." I pluck the fruit out and drop it back into my soda. he sits next to me, his cologne filling my senses with the kind of sensual warmth that it shouldn't be making me feel. he always smells so good.

"ladylike." he gestures to the movement.

"is that why you call me 'princess?'" I smirk, half-joking.

"once-- I called you that once!" he defends. it's not a lie. he used the nickname when he was mocking me for my somewhat selective food preferences. it was sarcastic, but I wish it wasn't. something about the way he said it in the moment made me blush.

"is there a reason you've come to grate my nerves?" I raise an eyebrow and he turns away from me as he bites back a smile. I pout. "what?"

"you're talking like a Jane Austen novel."

"what's wrong with Jane Austen?" I defend, skin heating up. his proximity is doing things to me that it shouldn't.

"nothing," he glances at me before moving his gaze to the ivory keys. "do you play?"

"elementary level, sure." I giggle. he runs his fingers over them, never pressing down hard enough to release a sound. I'm entranced by the delicate nature of his actions, the veins and the curve of his fingertips, the sheer width of his hand. I think about it too much for it to be healthy.

"show me." it's a direct order, one that doesn't feel directive but still ends with me placing both hands on the piano and wracking my brain for something to play. I decide on a piece that Paget and I were doing earlier, "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas."

I've never been quite good at piano, and the nearness of his body is like an anvil on my fingers, but I play anyway. and it feels good. his eyes are on me, drawn to my tracings over the instrument as they press and lift and glide.

"sing." I tell him.

"no!" he protests. I don't stop playing, only now getting into the thick of the tune.

"oh, come on. just the chorus..." I plead, turning my head to beg. "please?"

I bat my lashes playfully, fully intending it as a joke, but Matthew softens a bit. for a fraction of a second, I think he looks at my mouth. he turns his head back to the piano and lets out a quiet "here we are as in olden days... happy golden days of yore..."

"there you go!" I egg him on, and he starts to get more into it. his voice is absolutely off-key; he's no singer, and somehow that makes him even more endearing to me.

Matthew has always been this flawless, intimidating figure in my mind. even when we first met, I was certain that he was hiding something because everything else about him is so... perfect. he's funny, sweet, genuinely kind, handsomer than hell. it didn't make sense. but knowing that he can't carry a tune makes me feel a bit better. it humanizes his beauty.

while he sings, I can't help looking at him. his side profile is even more enchanting; the curve of his features meeting a smooth elegance in his jaw and cheek, especially when his mouth is open. he catches me smiling at him and returns it with his own gleeful face, now totally fine with singing like a fool in front of everyone. nobody is even really looking at us-- they're several drinks in and lost in their own universe of drunken laughter.

there's something kind of magical about that, I think. we're sober. when the song draws to a close, I lift my fingers off the keys and into my lap.

"you're quite the Pavarotti." I joke.

"the who?" he furrows his brow with a smile.

"he's a famous opera singer."

"oh," he laughs, "thanks, Mozart."

I twist my face up as I hide my smile. this is also part of the reason I could never tell Matthew how I feel; we just fit together too well. he almost always gets my references and I understand his, even though there's an age gap between us. he's an old soul with a youthful heart.

"how's your night going?" I ask him softly, changing the subject. he sets his hands on his lap, absent-mindedly toying with his fingers. it's not a nervous tendency at all. he does it whenever we're on set.

"as of right now? pretty damn good." he replies with a smile. I get warm again at the implication. he doesn't mean it like that, but god, do I wish he did.

"very smooth." I compliment appreciatively.

"how about you?"

"it was kind of boring, but then this rando sat next to me and started singing Christmas songs and it got a little better." I say flatly, grabbing my glass off the top of the piano and running my fingertip over the rim. he drops his head in a giggle.

"you're something else."

"insult?" I clarify.

"definitely a compliment."

"I like compliments."

"well, I wasn't lying before. you look really beautiful in that dress."

"the murder dress?" I glance down at it to hide the absolute wideness of my eyes at his words. he's completely flustering me and I'm starting to find it hard to breathe. he said I look beautiful. not "pretty," not "great"-- beautiful.

"yes, the murder dress." he gets a little pink in his cheeks, and that makes me want to explode on the spot.

"well, say goodbye to it because I'm gonna go change back into my plebeian clothes," I stand from the piano bench. "it's past my bedtime."

Matthew looks up at me with an unreadable expression and I feel my heart flutter in my chest. I hate leaving him. "do you wanna come with me? like-- walk with me?"

"sure." he nods, stands, and follows behind. I can feel his presence like a delightful reminder of the emotions surging in my stomach. we wind through the crowd of party-goers until we end up back in the dressing room, away from the party. it's quiet.

Matthew walks in with me, carrying our drinks in his hand, and he's about to stroll back out so I can change when I touch his arm. the door shuts automatically behind him.

"wait," I swallow quickly. "can you unzip me?"

"oh." Matthew looks at me, then at the glasses in his arms, then at the vanity. he sets them down and comes back quickly, his frame behind me while his fingertips locate the little piece at the top of my gown. my breath hitches in my throat when he brushes over my spine by accident, one nail dragging accidentally against my skin as the fabric slowly gives way. I don't know if he hears it-- it's nearly imperceptible-- but he definitely hesitates once he reaches the place where my back starts to curve into my ass. he pauses, doesn't breathe until he reaches the end of the zipper.

"there you go." he mutters. his voice is a little more hoarse than usual, and he clears his throat as he steps away. I know he's going to back out. he's going to back out of the room and wait for me to slip into nothing and I know, somehow, that he's going to be thinking about how I look in here with my clothes off. he's going to wish he stayed.

and I'm going to wish he'd done more than stayed.

before I can lose my nerve and allow the moment to be swallowed up by practicality, I shrug the straps of the dress down my shoulders and let gravity take over. it drops to the floor, leaving me in only my bra and panties. I can sense him behind me; he's silent for a moment.

"Matthew." I say, the name sitting on my tongue like a sugar cube. perfectly formed, slowly dissolving.

"y-yeah?" he stutters for the first time since I've met him.

"are you looking at my ass right now?" I ask, still turned around. the way he's frozen in place tells me that I'm right.

"yeah." he admits.

"you can touch it, if you want." I murmur softly. part of me doesn't think this is real, the way each sentence leaves my throat like it's been pre-planned. truly, I don't understand how my brain is moving so quickly.

"are you... sure?" he's hesitant, but even I can taste the longing.

"yes."

his hand smooths over my butt, softly at first like he's still not believing his own eyes, before moving back to grab it. he squeezes the flesh, and a low exhale from him tells me that he's excited.

"do you want more?" my voice barely carries. my head is almost foggy from how good it is to have his grip on my body, even in such a simple way. I can feel myself getting wet.

"how much more?" his lips brush over my shoulder and I get goosebumps. my mouth opens and closes for a moment, searching for the right words.

"however much you want."

it's flint and steel, the way he sparks. the air literally leaves my lungs when Matthew grabs my hips and spins me around to face him. my lips part as I peer up at him, at the lust that now darkens those hazel eyes and the way he holds mine. his touch is certain. he pulls our bodies together, tilts my chin up to kiss me.

it's passionate, strong, the kind of kiss that causes me to lean back a bit just to receive the full force of his desire. but I return the affection easily, moaning into his mouth. I've never been held the way that Matthew holds me. like I'm made of sugar glass, like he wants desperately to feel the soft give of my skin and make a home of me.

the heat between our bodies is almost overwhelming, and I sigh when he subtly pushes our hips together. his erection is against my stomach.

"fuck." I mutter when I pull away for air. Matthew doesn't stop his perfect movements, though, tugging my earlobe between his teeth and starting to leave love bites up my skin and over my shoulder. he chuckles against my throat. I shiver.

"you alright, little girl?" he asks.

"just--" I let out a moan at the sensation of his fingers exploring my bare waist. he reaches behind me to unclasp my bra. "just surprised."

"about?" he slides the straps down my shoulders and looks me in the eye. the lack of physical contact makes me whine.

"that you want me."

"how is that surprising?" he smiles, using one index finger to guide me to look at him.

"you don't seem like it."

Matthew raises his eyebrows as if I'm a crazy person. truly dumbstruck. "what?"

"you-- well, I don't know." I frown, but Matthew takes my hand and moves it over his torso until my palm is resting over the considerable bulge in his pants.

"is this enough proof?"

I struggle for words, sputtering. "yeah-- yeah, it is."

he bucks into my hand a little and I bite my lip, eyes moving up to meet his. something passes between us that I don't fully understand, but feel in my bones. I have never, in my life, wanted someone to fuck me as much as I want Matthew to fuck me right now. my jaw clenches.

"I need you." I tell him like this is the most relevant piece of information that will ever pass between us. he smirks.

"yeah?"

"mhmm."

"then lean against the wall and let me give you what you deserve." he orders. for a second, I try to think through what he means. then I look behind me at the open space and back up, him following me closely. his hands move up to cup my breasts, kneading and tweaking my nipples as he kisses my lips. the coolness against my back causes me to gasp, and he swallows the sound with his tongue before moving down my body.

he's torturously slow, taking one of my nipples into his mouth while he shrugs off his suit jacket. he switches to my other peak, one hand splayed over my stomach, and then proceeds southward with his lips. his kisses are delicate, open-mouthed, as they find their way to the waistband of my panties.

he hooks his fingers in them and looks up at me.

"can I eat you out, baby?" he asks. I bite my lip.

"please." like a beg.

"oh, you're polite tonight." he smirks, tugging the garment down my legs and discarding it somewhere in the room. I don't respond, and he doesn't seem to need me to, because he pushes one leg up for better access to my pussy. "let's see if it lasts."

my back curves off of the wall involuntarily when he holds the flat of his tongue against my clit suddenly, trying to roll my hips against his face. my fingers tangle in his hair, one leg resting over his shoulder.

he starts to flick at my clit. I lose grasp of my own language.

"Matthew, that feels so good, I--"

he attaches himself to my bundle of nerves, seemingly turned on by the sounds I'm making for him. he groans as he laps at the wetness between my legs, dipping into my folds and sucking the soul out of me. I whine and use his curls as leverage to gain more friction. he peers up at me.

"needy little girl." he mumbles against my pussy. I shove him back into me.

"make me cum, then." I beg. I can practically feel the devilish smirk on his face as he devours me like he'll never get enough. every twist and lick of his tongue is sending me to new places. I'm panting, chest heaving, while I grab my own tits and buck into his mouth.

he moans. my orgasm hits me like a wave, causing me to nearly thrash with pleasure as I cry out.

"Matthew, keep going, fuck yes!" I feel tears prick the back of my eyes, the culmination almost too much to bear as we hold contact. he stares into my fucking soul as he eats me out, and I want to stay like this forever. it's hard to support myself with my legs going weak, but I love it. the sensations are otherworldly. it's only when I'm about to collapse that I push his face away from me.

"I love your pussy." he tells me, licking his lips as he sets my legs down. I grin and let my head fall back against the wall.

"thanks."

"come here, princess." he takes hold of my hips and guides me over to the mirror, turning me so that he's standing behind my frame. the pet name causes me to smile.

"what?" I reference our reflection. he stares at me, reaching around to squeeze my tits.

"I wanna fuck you in the mirror." such a vulgar thing, said so beautifully. he kisses my cheek. "if that's okay with you."

"I don't care what position we do as long as you're fucking me." I breathe honestly. he chuckles and draws me towards him so his clothed boner is against my ass. I reach behind and work the button on his pants. he undoes the ones on his shirt. we're silent, him watching my naked body move like he's trying to memorize every detail.

when he's finally stripped, he lets me stroke his cock for a couple moments before pushing my upper back forward so I'm holding onto the sides of the mirror. I see him biting his lip as he lines himself up at my entrance.

"you ready?" he checks. I nod and he smiles at me once. pushing in, the smile melts into a jaw-dropped haze, eyes rolling into the back of his head. "Y/N..."

"it's so big." I try to breathe. he's so deep, I grip the mirror until my knuckles turn white. he's going to snap my body in two with the angle of his cock, filling me easily.

"tight little thing." he grunts as he holds himself inside. I can only watch in shock as I try to adjust to the sheer feeling of him. Matthew runs his hands over my sides, my ass, touching whatever he can. "how's that?"

I start to wiggle my hips and he groans at the feeling of my walls desperately swallowing him up. "Matthew, I need it."

"need what?" he thrusts into me and I have to fight a scream.

"need you."

"fuck... yes." he hisses out, sliding into me. "you're so wet I don't even need to try."

I bite my lip to withhold my sounds and he stares me in the eyes in the mirror as he starts to fuck me harder, building a pace with his hips. he growls a little if he hits certain angles, getting ruthless.

"so many times when I wanted to be inside you, princess..." he trails off. I start to play with my clit with one hand, using the other to stabilize myself with the mirror. the idea turns me on.

"when?"

"whenever you have attitude," he pants. "tonight, in that innocent fucking dress. making me wanna pound you like a little slut."

I make a high-pitched sound at the shudder of pleasure that jolts through my stomach at his words, wanting more. I've never heard him talk this way before.

"Matthew, shit--" I rub myself in circles, caught between watching his face and watching the way his hips slam into mine.

"you're begging to be fucked, you know that?"

"am I?" I smile sweetly in the mirror. we're in our own world, locked in a fantasy that I never want to leave. I can feel him in every corner of my body, sinking beneath my skin. he digs his nails into my ass.

"mhmm." he hums. I can feel the familiar weight in my stomach that indicates how close I'm getting. a knot that screams to be undone by his perfect length. I would do anything for more of this. I can taste everything good in the world on my tongue.

"I'm so close." I whine.

"I can tell," he studies my face in the mirror. "so pretty when you're breaking."

"oh--" I feel my thighs tense and my body pulses, the euphoria almost overwhelming. we move steadily, rhythmically, and he pushes my climax to new levels. "faster." I cry.

Matthew is quick to respond, gripping me closer while he plows into me like he's never going to have my body again. the sound of it is filthy, perfect, a mess. he groans at the sensation of my cunt pulsating around his cock.

"cum for me, princess." he moans, losing himself in the embrace of my core. the foggy stare in his eyes is like drowning in the ocean. I sink below, not caring at all about the consequences of him inside me. fuck working together; I need him. "where should I cum?"

"in me." I groan.

"beg." he commands easily, watching my face contort in pleasure. I could pretend to fight it, to give a little attitude, but I don't want to. I love begging for him.

"fill me up, Matthew. please." each word punctuated by the breathlessness of my voice. he gets even more ferocious with me, beating up my pussy until I'm sure he's going to leave me sore.

"right there, right there," he gasps, hitting the same spot that makes me go cross-eyed. "such a good little slut."

his cum shoots into me, deep and warm and erotically twisted, and I nearly collapse. it feels weird, but so good at the same time. full. he groans out my name and withdraws, quick to grab my shoulders and hold me up as I almost fall. I hadn't realized that most of my body weight was supported purely by his thrusts.

"whoa." he lets out a tired laugh, gentle in his touch. I'm heaving air into my lungs.

"sorry." I apologize, my body unstable.

"are you okay?" he seems genuinely concerned and I nod.

"yeah, I'm fine. just a little overwhelmed."

"here," he scoops me into his arms and brings me over to the old love seat in the dressing room, laying his jacket down before putting me on top of it. "can I get you something?"

"Sprite." I gesture to the glass on the vanity, and he smiles as he goes to get it. I gulp down whatever remains of it. "thanks."

"of course." he keeps glancing at my face and the red marks on my hips where he was clutching me like a lifeline. "I'm sorry."

"what?" I set the cup down. "don't ever be sorry for fucking me like that."

"no, I meant--" he laughs, but then he sees my playful expression and realizes that I'm genuinely alright. I think my legs were asleep.

"you're a saint." I tell him. he frowns and shakes his head bashfully. I'm already getting up and collecting my clothes. "or maybe what we just did prevents you from reaching sainthood. I don't know."

he places his hand on my lower back, kisses my forehead tenderly.

"seriously. you're okay?"

"I'm perfectly fine," I assure him. "but I would be better with a milkshake."

Matthew breaks into a slow grin, staring at me like I've done something miraculous.

"how are you so perfect?"

#matthew gray gubler #mgg smut #mgg oneshot #mgg x reader

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giantkillerjack · 9 months ago

Text

WAIT. HOLD UP. WAIT. NO. STILL DO GET A DOG BUT NOT A PUPPY, I BEG YOU. I MADE THAT MISTAKE AND IT LITERALLY MADE ME MORE DISABLED.

A dog from a shelter who is already grown and potty-trained will love you just as much for saving it as a baby puppy would for you raising it, I promise you! And you will come to care for the animal regardless of their level of baby-ness as well! (Every dog is functionally an innocent baby who needs you, but infant dogs are extremely taxing.)

It was 2019. I thought I was ready, despite my chronic fatigue and severe cptsd - I was going to TRAIN MY OWN SERVICE DOG!!! I did all the research, all the prep, everything!

What ended up happening was that the physical and emotional toll of raising a baby animal coincided with a lot of other traumatic shit happening to me at the same time, and the combined strain of this contributed to my nerve damage and PERMANENTLY CRIPPLED ME.

To make matters worse, the experience of growing up around that kind of severe mental and physical illness left my dog in a mental place that was Not Ideal for service training because service dogs need to be *gradually taught their service tasks as tho they are playing a fun game* - and Romeo had seen firsthand far too young how my seizures are absolutely no game. He had seen me collapse screaming in pain too many times, and no amount of training would ever be able to convince him that this was fine, actually.

My dog saved my life because he gave me a reason to live. I don't regret getting him. I don't regret doing what I had to in order to keep him.

But he would have saved my life at 4 years old just the same as he did at 4 weeks old, and I now recognize that getting a baby dog was absolutely not the best choice.

If I had chosen more wisely in 2019, I may have been able to better avoid the full-body chronic pain I have experienced every single second of every day since 2019 if he had simply been potty-trained when I got him.

Like, however much you THINK you will have to be bending over and cleaning up feces and vomit and piss, MULTIPLY THAT BY 10. By 20!!!

All dogs need walks - not all dogs pee on the floor once every couple of hours, or start to scream because you left the room (Romeo had lost his dog mother not 3 weeks prior, and there was some SERIOUS separation anxiety with that horrible, heart-breaking, extra-ear-splitting, puppy cry keeping me up for many nights), or teethe at everything and everyone constantly with those extra sharp needle teeth puppies have!

But the main crux here is that I seriously damaged my back and nervous system for real, and I passed up one of the older dogs who are less likely to be adopted from the shelter, since baby puppies are pretty much always adopted! Not to mention all the sleep lost from his abandonment anxiety!

Like, you know your body and I don't. But do you know if you can bend down and straighten up 100 times a day for many days in a row?? Are you SURE? And what if you're wrong??

Because there were times I realized that if I didn't break myself caring for my puppy, he wouldn't be cared for at all. And that thought was so terrifying that I broke myself. And all of that was very avoidable.

Be gentle with yourself. Please.

----

Anyway, no one worry about Romeo P. Morningstar. He still thinks he is my supervisor despite failing his service training, but he is happy, healthy, and incredibly loved and pampered (and at age 4, he is now 1,000x easier to care for than when he was an infant animal). My little Disservice Dog~ 💖💖

We’re very seriously in puppy consideration mode. I’m nervous, I’ve had chronic fatigue for a while and a puppy is a lot of work but I’ve also been struggling with motivation to get up and walking and a puppy will definitely provide that. It’s hard to find a balance between good exercise and pushing it but as my doctor said the best exercise is doing something fun and walking a dog is infinitely better than walking alone.

This is kinda the best time too, since I’m still in school but my class load is so light I can actually be home and monitoring the pup way more than if I have to be at work for long hours. I’m mostly worried about potty training, and this would work out well for that.

Also the kind of dog we’re looking at would be able to do helpful tasks without being fully service trained. I loved being in 4H with my dog Sly growing up, doing training and tricks. We could take them around to dog parks and hiking if I improve to that level. It’s exciting but also scary.

#original #Romeo P. Morningstar #doggos #puppies #puppy #dog care #puppy care #anyway the YouTube channel i recommend for dog training is Zak George. positivity only training is what you want #shouting at dogs doesn't make them perform better anymore than it would for toddlers #you don't need to be the alpha you need to be the parent #also if you do get a baby puppy have a plan to hire people to help if you turn out to be wrong about your capacity and need assistance #the other day my precious little Disservice Dog helped SOOO much by informing me i was feeling slightly anxious but BARKING AT ME SO LOUD #I THEN FOR SOME REASON BECOME MORE ANXIOUS????#he's genuinely so smart and so well trained but he do be doing shit like that sometimes XD #*by barking at me so loud #service dog training

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hwascripts · 4 years ago

Text

What Izuku would be like in a relationship: The positive traits, the toxic traits, his love language, my own personal headcanons and an overall conclusion

WC: unknown

TW// POTENTIAL SPOILERS, No smut but Izuku is aged up, Toxic traits aren’t necessarily toxic...more so just bad traits, Teeny tiny little bit of angst, I think that’s it!

Masterlist

Disclaimer: I am in no way claiming the following headcanons are true. You are 100% free to disagree with me but please DO NOT send me hateful comments or asks. I am simply writing what I think Deku would be like in a relationship

a/n: Just to let you know, your nickname for him is Zuku just so you don’t think I kept spelling his name wrong.

-Deku is literally the kindest soul ever and it makes me want to cry. He’d give you his umbrella if you ever forgot yours, he’d literally carry you to first aid if you ever injure yourself- this man will legitimately do everything for you

-He’s incredibly observant. If he catches you looking at a pretty ring then he’ll literally show up at your door days later with that very same ring in his hands

“I saw you looking at it a few days ago and I wanted to surprise you!”

“Zuku baby oh my god how much did you spend?!”

“You don’t need to worry about it sunshine”

I wholeheartedly believe Izuku would call you his sunshine or something along those lines

-I have this one headcanon of him drawing you all the time as an excuse to “observe you and your quirk” but it’s really just because he wants to admire the way you shine underneath the sun- and that’s how he came up with the name Sunshine for you

-Deku has a heart of gold oh my god, this guy cares so much about you it’s unreal. Imagine trying to hide the fact that you’ve been crying while on a phone call- mission failed because he heard your shaky voice and now he’s on your doorstep with your favourite hoodie of his and your favourite snacks

-His memory is insanely good, like it’s freaky how good it is. Like you mentioned to him ONCE that you liked a certain drink and now he pulls up to your dates with that drink all the time (not like I’d complain if Deku brought me my favourite drink)

-Just like Bakugou, Deku is incredibly smart and he literally always comes up with a solution. You could literally vent to him about a problem you’re having at work and he’s come up with at least 73 solutions within 6 hours

-He’s determined and hardworking. Again, he’s just like Bakugou in the sense that he’ll put his blood, sweat and tears into whatever he’s doing- no matter if it’s a serious high stake mission or something like planning your weekly date. The second he puts his mind to something, he makes sure to give it his all.

-Izuku is your own personal cheerleader, this dude will hype you up no matter what. Training after work? he’s cheering for you. You completed a really difficult task? you better believe he’s gonna pat you on the back for it.

-He’s very protective of you. Remember when the LOV attacked the training camp and he rushed to find Kota? yeah he’s 10x more protective of you.

-And it’s not because he thinks you’re weak and can’t defend yourself, it’s because he genuinely worries about you all the time and just wants to make sure your always safe

-He’s an inspirational person, he makes you hella motivated to do even the most boring chores around the house

-Deku isn’t afraid to show his emotions. Unlike Bakugou, he’s often seen showing his emotions. Deku said “toxic masculinity who?”. He definitely gives 0 fucks if someone sees him crying/upset because I feel like Pro-Hero Deku would stop the stupid mindset of “Hero’s can’t show their genuine emotions”

-Izuku is the type of person to analyze all his losses, figure out what he did wrong and then learn from it to make sure he doesn’t make the same mistake again. He’s the complete opposite of Bakugou who gets bitter over his losses due to his superiority complex.

-He’s so good at comforting you that it’s unbelievable. Deku gives the warmest hugs that make you feel so safe- you literally cannot change my mind about this

-You know those hugs where the other person lightly rubs your back and lightly sways side to side with you? Yeah those are the hugs that Deku gives (he’d definitely give you a sweet little kiss on the forehead/cheek)

“Sunshine come here, let me hold you while you let out all your frustrations. I’ve got you, nothing can hurt you while you’re here with me”

-Can you tell I want some comforting Izuku hugs? He wouldn’t let go of you until he put a smile back on your face and GAHH oh my god I need Izuku hugs

-As much as I hate to do this, it needs to be done 😔✊🏻

-Izuku is such an over thinker, this guy worries about EVERYTHING under the sun. Your eyes didnt crinkle when you smiled? he’ll think you’re upset with him. You gave him a side hug rather than a normal hug? he’ll think he did something wrong.

-He’s self aware that he overthinks things but he just can’t seem to stop his thoughts. No matter how many times you reassure him that you aren’t upset with him, he’s subconsciously thinking about how to make it up to you

-He constantly pushes himself past his limits. You guys saw how many times he’s broken his bones. Deku may be intelligent but when it comes to his own self he can be completely hopeless

-The amount of times you’ve scolded him while you clean up his scrapes and cuts is insane. He just sits on the toilet lid and bites his lip nervously while you wave your finger angrily at him

“Sunshine please, I said I was sorry and that it won’t happen again!”

“Zuku you and I both know that’s a damn lie, I’ve had to patch you up 3 times this week! When are you going to start being more considerate of your limits?”

-I’m sorry but I picture him being so nervous to initiate anything with you. This guy would be so fidgety just by THINKING about holding your hand

-And deep down he knows he’s being ridiculous because come on, you’re his S/O and he’s been dating you for years now- why does he still get shaken up just by holding your hand?

-At first you think it’s cute, he’s just being respectful of your boundaries- but as time goes on you kind of get a little annoyed because he always asks you a bunch of times if you’re okay with him being affectionate.

“Zuku...sweetheart you know you don’t need to ask me a million times if I want to cuddle, right? I love cuddling with you!”

*cue sweating* “I’ll keep that in mind, Sunshine”

-He eventually gets a lot more comfortable with affection...more often than not you wake up with him nuzzled into your side like a cat

(Side note PLEASE wake him up with a bunch of kisses, he’ll literally melt)

-He’s very insecure about his scars because they make him feel like he’s “ugly” and sometimes he doesn’t even want you to look at them

-Do me a favour and please kiss along his scars/ trace them with your fingers while you compliment him- he’ll start crying because the scars he thought made him ugly are now starting to look beautiful to him

-This isn’t necessarily a toxic trait, more like a bad habit. Whenever Izuku gets stressed he’ll train himself to the brink of exhaustion just so he can try to focus on something other than how stressed he is

-Again, not a toxic trait but a bad one...Deku puts everyone else before himself. Which isn’t a bad thing if it’s done in a healthy amount, but Izuku goes to the extreme. I feel like he’d neglect his own needs just to satisfy everyone else and you’d have to intervene before it gets worse

“Sunshine I said I was fine, you don’t need to worry about me! Your Zuku is perfectly energized and ready to go”

“Zuku don’t lie to me, you know I can read you like a book. You’re coming with me and I’m putting you to bed”

-I hate to say it but this guy hates confrontation so much that sometimes he’ll suffer in silence for MONTHS before he even hints at being upset with something

-I honestly think your biggest argument with him would be about his lack of communication in terms of him not being completely honest about how he feels and he just breaks down-

-Like he has a really bad breakdown because he’s been bottling everything up for so long because he hates the idea of fighting with you.

-And now he’s sobbing because he’s so frustrated that he doesn’t know what else to do

-Anyways, the two of you just silently comfort each other until you’ve both calmed down enough to talk properly. This is the night Izuku finally starts opening up to you rather than bottling up every negative emotion he feels

-I honestly think his love language is a mixture of giving you gifts and words of praise

-He’s a little shy when it comes to showing you how he feels through affection, so giving you gifts and his praise get his point across

-He’s totally the type to send you cute messages throughout the day, send cute selfies when he misses you, or he just sends you a random bouquet of flowers because he saw them and thought of you

-Also the type of guy to have photos of the two of you displayed around his office. His most prized one being the photo of your first mission together

-Just warning you now that if you ever mention that your suit ripped or a certain item isn’t functioning properly then he’ll literally buy 10 replacements- each one better than the last

“Zuku I said that the sole of my BOOT ripped off, not my entire suit!”

“Well now you have 10 new upgraded suits to make sure it won’t happen again! Isn’t it great, Sunshine?”

(Someone take his credit card away from him)

I definitely think Izuku would be an amazing S/O! He’s caring, kind and comforting- and he does his very best to try and work on the bad habits he has.

Overall, I would say Izuku definitely would win a “S/O of the year award” (sorry Bakugou)

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juniorgman187 · 4 years ago

Text

Serendipity (Reid Fic) Part 1

A/N: If you’re wondering if this is at all based on Rosie and Marco’s storyline in “What to Expect When You’re Expecting,” then you should know - it totally is.

Summary: An FBI gathering brings Reader and Spencer together after years of distance. This one night changes not only their future, but their perspective on the past. Category: Angst, Smut, *NSFW content Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid Content Warning: Mentions of traumatic childhood, child neglect, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, menstruation, pregnancy Word Count: 10.2k

I originally thought I would be able to fit everything into 1 part, but after further reconsideration, this will be a two part series.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　

Serendipity: (n). Finding something good without looking for it.

A word I would only come to truly understand many months from now on a warm Thursday morning in May at St. Mary’s Hospital.

But whenever my thoughts drifted back towards the past, I would always remember that this was how it all began - on a chilly Saturday night in the heart of D.C.

Not more than four hours ago, Emilia and I drove down here for an F.B.I function that hired us. Under normal circumstances, we wouldn’t have agreed to be the caterers for an event so far away, but we eventually signed on after learning that there were at least 600 people attending. That meant a considerable amount of customers and an exorbitant amount of money. Saying yes was clearly a no brainer.

Just to put it into perspective of how big this event would be, Emilia and I got lucky if we could park somewhere with 80 customers. 80. So this event would be colossal for us.

But who would have guessed that in a crowd of 600, I would run into the one and only - Spencer Reid.

To preface, this wasn’t just any old birthday party, parade, or festival. It was a celebration and a grand one at that. Considering it was a private event at the Washington Monument, we were given special instructions to abide by the black-tie formal dress code that guests had to follow, too. I guess the caterers can’t look like slobs in the United States’ Capitol, now can they?

I definitely spent more time than I should have deciding on what outfit to wear, but my conscientiousness, or rather indecisiveness, did pay off in the end. For I would run into someone worth the trouble of impressing.

My hair, unlike Emilia’s, was down and curled in big waves, and on one side, some of my hair was tucked behind my ear and designed to stay that way thanks to copious amounts of hairspray and an ungodly total of bobby pins. Emilia lent me a black, floor-length dress that had a plunging v-neck that didn’t fit her anymore, but luckily, fit perfectly on me. Although I would have to remember not to lean over too far tonight, otherwise, the customers might get a show they didn’t pay for. I, however, didn’t look half so good as my business partner.

Emilia was clad in a navy blue silk dress with puffy sleeves and a high collar; the dress clung to her every curve, including her newly protruding belly bump. She looked regal and pregnant all at the same time, qualities I hadn’t seen coexist in anyone but the Queens and Duchesses in England.

“Well, don’t you look hot?” Emilia purred, running her fingers through my curls, then letting them fall and sway back into place.

“Are you kidding? You are quite literally a sexy mama.” I gushed to her, receiving a light chuckle in return.

“Yeah, well, when you’re five months pregnant, tell me how sexy you feel in a tight dress.” She remarked, turning her back to me while she arranged all the supplies in the kitchenette behind me. But even as she faced away from me, she still managed to recognize the effect her words had. Maybe it was something in my silence, or our sister-telepathy, but Emilia immediately felt the room depress. In an effort to take back the remark that turned the room cold, she sweetly added while hugging me from behind, “You’re gonna be a mom one day, too. I promise.”

I leaned into her embrace, feeling guilty for ruining the moment while also feeling burdened by the reminder of the terrible reality I had to face every day.

Ever since I could remember, I thought I was destined to be a mother, but that destiny had yet to be fulfilled.

Emilia was born only three years after me, and though that age gap isn’t big enough for me to be mistaken for her mother, I, she, and our younger brother Saul would all agree that in many ways I was their mom. I was the parent our parents never were. I was there for everything - soccer games, dance recitals, winter musicals - never getting the chance to participate in my own, but always attending their’s.

I had to admit sometimes it was a burden, having to grow up so fast and help raise my siblings while still trying to navigate through my own struggles of adolescence, but I saw it as something I was meant to do.

See, I wouldn’t have minded all the responsibilities of being a parent so much when it’d be my own kids that I’d be fulfilling them for - when it would be by my choice to fulfill those responsibilities and not by unfortunate birth order.

However, as the years have gone by, my calling to be a mother has gotten quieter and quieter and quieter until eventually, I don’t think I’ll be able to hear it anymore.

It’s not that I can’t have kids, but the fear of rushing into having one is what’s stopped me from pursuing that dream.

As someone who grew up with divorced parents and practically became my siblings only reliable caregiver, I knew what having a baby too soon could do to a family. So rather than repeating history, I chose to wait to have kids. I didn’t want to make the same mistakes my parents did, and so I lived my life. I traveled all across the globe, I met new people, tried new things, I even started this taco truck business with Emilia.

But still that gaping hole in my chest remained. A hole that nothing could ever fill the way that a child would.

No amount of living could make up for the emptiness of a life with no family.

I could pretend all I wanted that I was happy living out my twenties, but the truth was I didn’t want to spend the rest of my years working in a food truck, amounting to nothing more than a mediocre cook and middling entrepreneur. That was never my dream - as exciting as it was.

My real dream was to have a good life. The kind my parents never had thanks to the unplanned arrival of me. The kind my baby sister was already living out.

“You know what? It’s a really nice night out. I think I might go for a walk. Do you wanna come?” Was this my blatant avoidance of breaching the subject of pregnancy? Yes, but it was also my escape from this food truck that felt like it was getting smaller and smaller and smaller by the second.

“No, I’m okay. I’ll just get everything ready.” Emilia resigned.

She knew why I was really leaving - sister-telepathy, I’m telling you - but she didn’t feel the need to acknowledge it. For that, I was thankful. Maybe we were better at communicating with no words at all.

I carefully stepped off the back of the truck, making sure to hike up my dress high enough so I wouldn’t trip over the mess of fabric when my feet hit the floor. The nippy December air felt like a cool balm on my hot skin. I was burning up in that truck, and maybe it was nerves or something else, but I just had this weird feeling in the pit of my stomach. There was no explanation for it, but I realize now that the pit in my stomach was caused by something my intuition could sense but something my mind couldn’t understand.

Someone important from my past was here tonight.

As I sauntered around the monument, I took in the breathtaking view of the structure’s silhouette against the blazing orange sky that melted into an ocean blue. I regretted not bringing my phone to take a picture of it so I could show Emilia when I got back, but that one regret quickly turned into another when the night sky’s breeze brought a rude awakening. My body shivered at the frigid gust of wind that blew through and I suddenly started to regret not bringing a jacket.

“Are you cold?” A gentle voice asked me from behind.

I slightly recoiled out of shock of someone being there. When I turned around though, I couldn’t quite make out any distinguishable features. All I knew for sure was that this was certainly a man, and a tall one, too.

“Um, just a little.” I bashfully admitted, crossing my arms to hug myself and maintain some warmth. I hadn’t even thought about my dress’s plunging v-neck or the fact that I was practically squeezing my breasts together, accentuating them even further, but by the time, I realized, it was too late. He was already looking. But not at my chest. Somewhere far more invasive.

My eyes.

“Here, take my jacket.”

My small protests did nothing to stop him as he inevitably slipped the coat around my shoulders anyway. He’d come so close that I could finally see him and smell him. And let me tell you, if the sight of him wasn’t enough to break an overflowing dam of memories, then his smell certainly sent a flood that would.

“Oh my god,” I quietly gasped, my hand flying to my mouth to cover its un-ladylike gaping.

“Spencer Reid?”

I squinted my eyes and cocked my head even further to find evidence to support my assumption, and sure enough, I found exactly what I was looking for.

I was frozen in place as I deeply examined his face. My God! I mean, in many ways, he hadn’t changed a bit since the last time I saw him. Same dazzling hazel eyes. Same uniquely adorable nose. Same over-stimulated pink lips. I wonder if he still bit them as much as he did back then?

But at the same time, he was so different. Of course, I could still discern the same features I used to study endlessly back then, but his face had transformed into a man’s. He lost the glasses for one thing, but he also had a softer jawline, longer hair, and for lack of a better term, a beefier build.

He was all grown up now, and yet, I could still identify the same boyishly handsome charm that made me fall in love with him more than a decade ago.

“I knew it was you, (y/n).” He chuckled, sounding half proud of himself. My heart fluttered at the sound of my name on his tongue and the action that followed. With his eyes locked on mine, he tucked strands of my hair back behind my ears; it’s as if he were saying, “Let me get a good look at you.”

“How? It’s almost completely dark outside. You could barely even see me.” Certainly, you can understand why I was skeptical. Sounded too good to be true, if you ask me.

He shook his head lightly with a smile, seemingly questioning how I couldn’t possibly know the answer to that question. “No one else looks like you. Not even in the dark.”

His words spoke to a part of my soul specifically reserved for him. They were so genuine that I almost didn’t want to believe them because how could someone speak such lovely things and truly mean them? The world wasn’t that good a place. Certainly not good enough for Spencer Reid.

In that moment, I flew out of my own body and watched this entire scene unfold from up above. I could see the version of a girl I hadn’t seen in years, not since that last interaction with Spencer. She had these big lovesick eyes as she swooned over a man with just the same lovesick look.

The excessive upward tilt of my head and the way his neck craning down must’ve made it seem like we were about to kiss, but I knew better than to expect such a thing from Spencer Reid. And if anything, what we were doing right now was much more intimate than kissing.

“Wow, you ... you really grew up. You look great.” My own voice sounded unfamiliar to me after the words slipped from my mouth without even registering in my brain first.

“Are you kidding? Look at you! I mean, you are just ...” He paused for a moment to look me up and down, and I nearly shivered at the thought that he was practically undressing me with his eyes. “You’re absolutely beautiful. But you always were.”

I was almost completely in a daze when I heard a hideous squawk of a bird flying overhead. This wouldn’t make sense, but it nearly felt like a sign. Like the bird knew I wasn’t supposed to be there, reminding me of where I belonged - reality - not in this fantasy with Spencer.

“Um,” My head spun as I drew back from him. “I should probably get back. I’ll see you later.” I touched his upper arm gently as I passed by him, and it stunned me how warmth just radiated off of his body.

To my all too quick goodbye, he simply waved and watched me walk past him with a pursed-lip smile. And just before I got too far, I thought I heard him say, “I hope so.”

Though my feet were carrying me away from Spencer, my thoughts were only drifting closer to the memory of him, and we did have so many memories.

11 Years Ago ...

I was at the ripe age of 16 when I got my driver’s license. And to anyone else, this would seem like a given milestone, but to me - it was so much more. With the obtainment of my license, I also gained access to a whole new world. Opportunities poured at the seams. I could drive anyone and anywhere I wanted to and though it wasn’t true, it felt like I could do anything, too. But like all things good in my life, it fell apart in the face of responsibilities.

My newly obtained license was just another way for my parents to exploit me. Now, they didn’t have to drive Emilia and Saul since I could. Looking back, I have to wonder if the only reason they funded my driver’s ed classes were for the exact reason that if I took them, I’d sooner be able to take on yet another helping of duties they were too lazy to fulfill.

There’s one particular moment I can remember from this age and that same moment could also be regarded as the catalyst that would set off a series of events for the next 11 years to come.

It was the end of the school year and summer vacation was right around the corner. I was a sophomore at the time, and the prospect of being a junior the next year excited me.

To kick off the start of summer, Melody Hanes was throwing a pool party at her house. Everyone knew she was filthy rich because of a dead grandpa or some other, not to mention, she was also in student government so she had just as big of a role in school as her grandpa’s death did in making the Hanes family wealthy.

Though I never knew her personally, I did have third period chemistry with her for the entire year, and I sat right in front of her for pretty much the entirety of second semester. She must’ve only addressed me a handful of times, but she still invited me to her party anyway. Proximity, I had to admit, did play a part in that though because if I sat just a seat farther away, then I wouldn’t have been.

I came home that day, thrilled to tell my mother about my invitation. It would’ve been my first party that wasn’t a distant relative’s birthday celebration or a childish sleepover in elementary. It was my first real high school party, and for once, I thought - maybe I’d finally get the quintessential ‘high school experience.’

But of course, I never did.

As soon as I got home, I parked my car in the driveway, got the mail, and came inside the house to see my mother sitting on the couch watching TV, as per usual. While I was telling her about my invitation, she didn’t bother to lower the volume or even look away from the screen to give me her undivided attention, and when she did look away, it was only to take the mail from my hands.

“Your sister’s science fair is on that day, and you have to take her because I’ll be working from 1 to 7.” My mother never once looked up from the mail she was sorting through to address me. And her words, while incredibly monotone, were also spoken with such finality, like what she said was the last she ever wanted to speak on the topic. No room for discussion.

I’m not still losing sleep over it, but at the time, it felt like for once, I could actually just be a teenager and be young and reckless like everyone else, but that it was just taken from me. I never got the chance to be a kid again.

With the exception of Emilia’s science fair.

I knew my father wouldn’t be there, and obviously my mother wouldn’t, so I stayed to watch her presentation and to walk around the rest of the time. She deserved someone in her corner, and that someone was me. Even if no one was in mine.

As I serpentined through the cafeteria, a bittersweet feeling came upon me. From paper mâché volcanoes to potato batteries, I observed a childlike sense of wonder that I hadn’t felt for years.

Here, I was surrounded by children who got to be just children. They got to occupy themselves with trivial matters, like how gardens grow or if video games actually do rot your brain.

Their problems had solutions and their questions had answers, and it almost made me wish that I could revert back to a time where life was that easy, but I couldn’t because it never was … not for me.

So to sum it up, it was precious and heartbreaking all at the same time.

While browsing the fair, I stumbled upon a man that didn’t quite seem to fit in, and maybe it was my own unfitting appearance that made me recognize his. He could’ve very well been the brother of one of these children, but something about the way he was dressed and the way he carried himself made me highly doubt that.

He couldn’t have been a parent either, for he was not too far off from my own age, and if he was a parent of one of these eighth graders, that would have to mean that he had a kid when he was in kindergarten. So for all intents and purposes, he wasn’t someone’s brother or someone’s father. Who he actually was - I didn’t know, but I was determined to find out.

After that first observance, I spotted him a couple more times, but it wasn’t until we were looking at the same project that we actually spoke.

“Fascinating, isn’t it?”

The sudden sound of his voice alarmed me, but only because it seemingly came out of nowhere. Generally, before someone speaks to you, you notice signals that they’re about to, which helps you prepare for conversation. Whether it’s nervous twitches, a look in your direction, maybe even a small acknowledging smile, you’ll recognize they want to or plan to talk to you, but none of those signs were given to me. Even when I turned my head to give him my attention, he was still fixated on the project in front of us.

“Yeah, it really is,” I politely agreed. I awkwardly looked around the room as if I’d find an answer as to what to say next because I did want to keep talking to him, but the longer I stayed silent, the more I fear he’d begin to think I didn’t want to. With nothing else to ask but the question that had been bothering me since I first laid eyes on him, I simply went for it.

“So, who are you here for?”

For the first time, he turned his head to the side to look right at me. With a quizzical expression, he responded. “Oh, no one. I’m just a judge here.”

It was my turn to possess a quizzical expression. His statement wouldn’t have been weird, except for the part where any judge I’d seen or talked to were all well into their forties or fifties.

“Aren’t you kinda young to be a judge? You’re, like, what? Seventeen, eighteen?

“Nineteen actually. But I regularly come to judge the Summer Science Fairs here since I went to this middle school eleven years ago.”

Again, I would’ve taken his word for it, but the math didn’t make sense. “You were in middle school at eight years old?”

“Mhm. I ended up graduating high school at twelve.” He said it so nonchalantly, but for how big of a feat it was, I thought it would’ve deserved a more prideful tone, yet he still maintained such a cavalier one. Did he not think himself to be impressive?

“Jeez, you must be really smart.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets, which made me notice that he wasn’t carrying a clipboard like the other judges, which was probably another reason why I didn’t take him for one. How would he be able to remember the projects that he was considering for awards? He’d have to have some magical memory for that.

Before answering, he began to walk away, but nonetheless he continued addressing me, so I followed him where he went.

“Mmm not necessarily. My IQ isn’t high enough to suggest I’m a provable genius yet, but I do have an eidetic memory and I can currently read 16,000 words per minute, which definitely helps. I hope to be able to read 20,000 words per minute in the future.”

Despite answering my question, he only left me with many more.

“What is your IQ right now?”

“131.”

My eyes widened. Even I, with my limited knowledge on intelligence quotients knew that was high, especially for someone as young as he was.

“So what IQ score do you have to have in order to be considered a genius?”

I couldn’t help but notice how he barely took anytime to think before answering me. It’s like his brain just knew everything, right then and there.

“A score of over 140 is considered a genius or near genius.”

“Wow, so you’re almost a genius then?”

“Almost, but not quite. If I receive diverse stimulation at a consistent rate for the next few years, I predict that I’ll have an IQ of 180 or higher by the time I’m in my early twenties.”

You would think he would leave me speechless, but I still went on to ask him about what an eidetic memory was, and he explained to me that he could remember things exceedingly well, but that it was not the same thing as a photographic memory. He made that distinction very clear to me.

Our conversation droned on for the rest of the fair as we continued to circle the cafeteria. I can’t count how many times we lapped around the same projects, but we never seemed to run out of things to talk about. Once those first few seconds after meeting him, when I didn’t know what to say, passed, I never again felt a sense of not knowing. We could talk for hours and hours, and it wouldn’t matter. I would never get bored.

How could I? When I was with him, it felt like the rest of the world just faded away. Our discourse flowed so easily, no pressure, no awkward silence. It was just me and him, and if you ask me, that’s quite the opposite of boring.

That was the first and final time I ever truly felt like a kid. Just like the ones in the science fair. Not a care in the world except for my morbid curiosity of the marvel that was him.

Alas, all good things must come to an end, and I inevitably found myself being ripped out of my trance when I felt an aggressive tug on my sweater.

“We can go now.” Emilia interrupted.

I hadn’t even noticed that a majority of the poster boards were taken down and that an even larger majority of the people were long gone, too. I got so lost in the conversation that I didn’t realize we were one of the last people still there.

Emilia’s eagerness to leave was apparent as she pulled me away from my interesting conversationalist.

“I had a nice time talking to you!” I called out to him, walking backwards to lengthen the period of time I could keep looking at him.

“Likewise.”

I turned around fully just before I finally realized something. “Hey!” I yelled across the distance. “I never got your name!”

He bashfully smiled and looked down at his feet briefly. “It’s Spencer! Spencer Reid!”

I stood there for a moment, silently processing his name.

“What’s yours?” He yelled back.

I chuckled mischievously. “I guess you’ll have to find out next time.” My ambiguity puzzled him and intrigued him all at the same time.

“Next time?”

With the intentions of leaving him without a true answer, I simply turned on my heels and started walking away.

“Bye, Spencer!”

Even if he didn’t have an eidetic memory, I knew after that first day, he could never forget me.

- Present Time -

By the time I made it back to the truck, people were already lining up to order.

“Get over here!” Emilia squealed excitedly from the window, her hand rapidly waving me over as if it’d suddenly increase my speed. I ran back as fast as I could in a dress and heels and climbed into the truck, mirroring my sister’s zeal.

When I stepped in, Emilia took one glance at me and furrowed her brows. “Where’d you get the jacket?”

Had she not mentioned it, I would not have remembered the foreign fabric that wrapped around my shoulders.

“Oh, shoot!” I palmed my forehead after the realization dawned on me. I should’ve noticed sooner that I still had it on, but honestly, it didn’t feel unusual or out of place. It was comfortable and familiar, like it was meant to be there that entire time.

“I’m so sorry to do this to you, but do you think you can handle this alone for just a second? I have to return this to a friend.” I asked while slipping off the coat to ready myself to leave, even in the event that Emilia said she wouldn’t let me go. Luckily though, she understood it was urgent.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be fine. Just hurry back.”

I extended my head to look out just past the side of the truck to look for Spencer while still being concealed within the vehicle. Now that there were more people here, I wasn’t exactly sure I should be caught mingling with the attendees, so instead, I decided to search for him from the truck, rather than wandering around the party, giving the impression to the people that hired us that I wasn’t doing my job and was just here to socialize.

Luckily, there was something about my attachment to Spencer that was supernatural. I had this metaphysical ability to spot him even in a crowded place. I could find him anywhere. But whether that was a blessing or a curse was to be determined because right as my paranormal power kicked in, I found him. And there he was - standing next to another girl, a proximity much too close and a smile much too big to be anything less than flirtatious.

I paused to recall the image I had of myself earlier, when I floated up and out of my own body. I looked just like her - an oversized grin combined with lovesick eyes.

But that’s not the worst part.

The worst part was he was returning just the same look of attraction to her.

“Um, actually,” I re-entered the truck completely, tossing the jacket aside haphazardly. “I’ll just return it later.”

“You sure? You can go. I’ve got things covered right now.” She said between multitasking at a rate that even I, a very-much-not-pregnant-woman, could manage.

All I could mutter back without giving away the sharp ache in my heart was, “Yeah, I’m sure.”

_ _ _

After hours and hours of non-stop working, the night, at last, was coming to a close. The large crowd had sized down considerably, until I could no longer hear the sound of a thousand voices meshing. All the decorations were already coming down by the time Emilia and I finished packing up the truck. Without the hectic energy to cause adrenaline to course through my veins, it should’ve been peaceful, yet my heart was not at peace.

I couldn’t shake the gut-wrenching feeling of seeing Spencer with that girl, but that wasn’t really why I was upset. It was more about the fact that I’d actually believed for a second that I had any chance with him. I should’ve known he wasn’t single, and the fact that I let myself swoon over him again angered me all the more. If I ever had a chance with Spencer, the time to act on it was long gone.

Now, I had to live with that.

“You sure you wanna stay here alone? I’ll come with you if you want me to.”

Emilia’s question was referring to my proposal to stay in D.C for the night while she drove home. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision, but I realized I couldn’t handle being in another suffocating car ride with Emilia. It had nothing to do with her - just that I needed alone time to process everything by myself. If I knew my sister as well as I thought I did, I knew she would’ve sensed something was wrong and tried to coax me into talking about it, which I was not in the mood to do. Plus, traveling for so long made me nauseous just thinking about it. Although, I didn’t have a plan, I knew that I just wanted to hail a cab and find a hotel somewhere here for the night.

“Yeah, I’ll be okay. Don’t worry about me. Call me when you get home.” I tapped on the back of the truck twice to let her know she was good to drive away, and I felt the car lurch forward per my request. When the truck finally did move, out from behind it appeared the tall figure of none other than Spencer.

I was surprised, but only for a second, when that surprise turned into pain once more. Playing it cool so my afflictions wouldn’t be suspected, I nonchalantly stated, “Here’s your jacket, by the way. Sorry, I forgot to give it back to you earlier.”

I extended my arm far enough so that we’d still have a great distance between us when he went to grab it, but sure enough, my actions were all for naught when he not only refused to remove his hands from his pockets to take it but also walked two steps closer to me than he needed to be. I looked like an idiot just standing there with my arm so outstretched, only for him to not grab it and to let it simply press against his stomach as a complete avoidance of getting it back.

“You were supposed to keep it. That’s why I didn’t ask for it back.” He curtly replied, finishing his statements with a cheeky grin. However, I wasn’t in the mood to return it. I simply stood there and shook the jacket in my hand to emphasize its presence.

“Take it. Please.” My voice was full of contradictions. I tried to be assertive with my command, and yet my plead only softened the order and showed a defeat I wasn’t even aware of until I heard how sad it sounded. “I don’t want it, Spencer.”

He no doubt saw the shift in my demeanor but still wouldn’t pacify me by taking the jacket. “What’s wrong? What did I do?” His voice got quieter, as if speaking any louder would shatter me in this fragile state of being.

“Nothing, I’m just tired and I want to go home.” This wasn’t a complete lie. I was exhausted from working for hours and hours on my feet with no breaks in between, but it wasn’t exactly the full truth either. He could tell.

“Just tell me what’s wrong.” He persisted. “Please.”

The only way I could describe what I happened next was like the vision of a boiling pot. Gradually, I was heating up until I finally got so overheated that I just boiled over and exploded.

“What don’t you get, Spencer? I don’t want your jacket!” Fury consumed my tone. “And I don’t think your girlfriend would want that either.”

“Girlfriend? What girlfriend? What are you talking about? I don’t have a girlfriend!” His words were flying out of his mouth at 100 mph as he desperately trying to mend what couldn’t be fixed.

“Don’t play dumb. I saw you with that blonde girl. How close you two were standing, the way you were looking at each other.” Just having to recount the interaction made the horrid memory come back vividly into the forefront of my thoughts, and it broke my heart all over again. I shut my eyes painfully as though it would turn off the image of them together, but this only allowed for Spencer to wrap his warm hands around my upper arms and pull me closer to him without my knowing. I flinched unconsciously at the sudden feeling of his touch, to which he instantly let go.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” His hands shook with remorse for letting them touch my body in a way that elicited that reaction. They hovered in the space between us, not knowing where to go that would suddenly make things okay. “But she’s no one, okay? She’s just a coworker.”

I wanted to believe him. I quite possibly did believe him, but there was still a sharp pain in my chest. Call it intuition.

“No, she’s not,” I shook my head. “She’s not ‘no one’... you love her.”

Spencer came closer but still didn’t let himself touch me again out of fear that I might draw back even further.

“Listen to me - whatever feelings I used to have for her are long gone. She’s married, (y/n). She has a kid. And none of that even matters because the way that I used to love her is nothing compared to the way that I-”

“Don’t.” I held my hand up in protest. “Don’t say you love me.”

His eyebrows knit together with dismay. “Why? Why not? It’s true. I love you. I always have.”

With one big sigh, I finally resigned to my emotions. “Then why didn’t you ever do something about it?”

Judging by the deflation of his shoulders and the far off look he got in his eyes, he knew exactly the moment I was talking about.

Two days after Emilia’s science fair, I drove to the library to pick up books I needed for my summer homework. I was already on my way out when I just happened to glance to my side, noticing a lone figure sitting at the bus stop. I didn’t think anything of it, but when I looked back, I partially recognized him. I shaded my eyes from the sun and squinted harder to confirm my suspicions.

“Spencer?” I wondered out loud.

The figure’s head turned around, narrowed their eyes, and waved. He stood up from his seat and made his way over to me with a precious little jog-walk. Although we had only met once before, we still embraced each other like lifelong friends.

“Do I finally get to know your name now?” He jokingly inquired after pulling away.

It completely slipped my mind that I’d denied him the knowledge of my name, but for my own satisfaction, I wouldn’t let him get off that easily.

“Do you have any guesses of it could be?”

He pouted childishly. “Are you kidding? In a population of 350 million people, there would be about 4.4 million names. But if every country on Earth had the same nominative diversity we in the US have, that would suggest about 750 million unique names exist.”

I must admit it was fun watching him melt into a flustered mess of facts, but I was growing just as impatient as him. “Come on, just guess. You might be right.”

He rolled his eyes but indulged me willingly anyway. “Okay ... um ... Catherine.”

“Nope.”

“Nicole.”

“Nope.”

“Gertrude.”

“Seriously?” I raised my eyebrows. He shrugged. “Nope.”

“Olive.”

“Pretty,” I smiled, making his face light up, too. “But no.” His smile fell.

“This is nearly impossible.” He sighed.

“Nothing’s impossible.” My delivery wasn’t as cheesy as the line itself, so it touched us both in a way that made that silly phrase feel like it’d never been said before. With a visible passion reignited in him, he continued.

“Francis.”

“Okay, maybe this is impossible.”

My blunt joke brought us closer together, our heads almost knocking into one another’s as we clutched our stomachs and leaned forward to support our all-consuming laughter. When we finally calmed down, I finally confessed.

“Okay, okay - it’s (y/n).”

He stood there completely silent. There was no expression of his face that indicated he planned on speaking, so I elaborated. “It’s not as good as the name Spencer, I know I know -”

“I’ve never known anyone with that name before.” His hushed voice cut into mine so innocently.

My cheeks heated from the slight compliment. “Well, now you do. And don’t you forget it.” I teased. With nothing further to say, I brushed past him to start walking away, when unconsciously, I spun my keys around my index finger and heard the familiar jingle of the metal, reminding me of something.

“Hey, Spencer?” I turned on my heels. “Can I give you a ride home?”

And so began our routine for the entire summer. I would bring my summer homework to the library, and Spencer would help me understand it, or even complete it, and then I’d give him a ride home. We’d go to the park and read, or we’d go to the movies, or we’d hang out at a diner. And each time, I’d drop him off.

The more time we spent together, the more I learned about him and his life. He told me about his mom, his dad - everything. I did just the same. I told him about my mom, my dad, my siblings - everything.

Perhaps we enjoyed spending so much time together because it was a sweet escape from our houses that weren’t homes. But every time we did hang out, we just got closer and closer, and by the end of the summer, I knew my feelings perfectly clear.

I love Spencer.

If missing that pool party at Melody Hanes was what it took to find the absolute love of my life, then what a small price to pay it was. I wouldn’t have traded a million pool parties for that one chance encounter with Spencer at the science fair.

One day, we were pulling into his driveway after having a picnic at the country club, and I’d just let him out of the car, when unconsciously, I said, “Bye, Spence! Love you!”

He caught the words faster than I did. He looked like a deer in headlights, and it took me at least two seconds more to figure out why. That entire day I’d been thinking about saying it, but by the end, I decided it’d be better not to, and yet, it just came out anyway.

“You love me?”

There were two ways I could’ve answered. The first was to deny it and say that I only meant that I loved him like a friend. The second was to be brave and validate my unintentional confession.

In the heat of the moment, I chose the latter.

“Yes.” I nodded, smiling from my own courage. You only live once right?

In a cruel twist of fate, Spencer never tried to speak, and instead, ran to his front door.

“Spencer!” I yelled. “What are you-”

He gave me one last look over his shoulder before he opened the door and closed it right behind him. That was the last I ever saw him.

I learned, that day, that you do only live once.

But you can die over and over again.

From that point on, he’s lived in my mind as the one that never was.

Regret and shame manifested on Spencer’s face. “I never wanted to hurt you.” He dejectedly began. “But I was young and-and dumb and just ... so scared. God, I was so scared.” He finally looked up, if for no other reason than to gauge my reaction. “I liked you so much, but I, I just couldn’t open myself up to the possibility of being hurt by another person I loved.”

Much like my own life, Spencer’s was riddled with traumatic experiences. Except rather than being expected to take care of younger siblings, he had to take care of his mom. And having to be a parent to your own parent? That’s something I would never wish upon anyone else.

“I ... I get it.” It was a sweet surrender, my words. After years of pent-up aggression borne from humiliation, rejection, and deep sadness, I could finally understand. “But as selfish as it sounds, I wish your past hurt hadn’t gotten in the way of our potential happiness.”

He took each of my hands in his, encasing them with palms of warmth. “Then don’t let the same thing happen right now. Don’t let the stupid, broken teenager I was cloud your judgement of the man I am now. Let me prove to you that I’ve changed.”

I stood there silently, an eerie parallel to how Spencer reacted to my confession eleven years ago.

“When I saw you, it felt like a second chance. A second chance to do what I was too afraid to do back then. And I couldn’t let myself make the same mistake twice.” His eyes were piercing through my soul. Every word plucked at my heartstrings, until I could no longer keep up with the symphony they were playing.

There was the slightest hesitation behind it, but I did inch forward. And in no time at all, Spencer saw the movement and made his own.

His hands released mine and shot straight for my cheeks to cup them gently, while kissing me firmly. He wasn’t the same shy boy he was, and this kiss was only proof of that. The way his lips were moving so fervently made me weak at the knees. He was so desperate and needy, like even with our lips touching, he still wasn’t close enough to me. Unleashed upon me was years of yearning wrapped in prominent lust.

“I love you.” He blurted clumsily on my lips. I didn’t return the sentiment, but that wasn’t why he said it. He wanted to say it so I’d know, not so that I’d say it back.

“You should know,” I muttered between kisses. “I’m not leaving D.C. until tomorrow morning.”

The biggest smirk creeped onto his face. Bastard.

Once we’d exhausted all the things we could possibly do in public, we ran to the nearest cab we could find and exhausted all the things we could do in that, too.

It was already past midnight when we arrived at Spencer’s apartment, and though we should’ve been quiet so as not to disturb the neighbors, we were still breaking out into a fit of giggles like a bunch of teenagers sneaking around as we ran up the stairs. We hadn’t even made it past the doormat, before he seized my hips in his hands and spun me back towards him. Forcefully, he pressed me against the door while simultaneously unlocking it. That shut me up real good, lemme tell you.

As soon as we crossed the threshold, he gave me a reprieve when he held me closer so as to stop pinning me against the door. In an effort to do the impossible, we stumbled through his apartment in a frenzy trying to undress each other while maintaining our bodily contact. With one giant tug of the zipper on my back, my dress fell to the ground. To his atonement, he left me in just a thong. Whereas he was much too overdressed in my opinion.

No sooner did I gracelessly unbutton his shirt than we ran into a plant against the wall. Our smiles practically ruined the kiss at the sound of the crash, but it remained nonetheless. I knew I was in for something, when Spencer paused to wait for me to unbuckle his belt. That was the first time we ever really stopped in place, but just as I anticipated, I was in for it.

When I finally freed his waist of the garment, he just as quickly placed his hand on the back of my thigh, and in one swift motion, hoisted me into the air high enough to allow my legs to wrap around his waist. My arms were loose around his neck and the feeling of his warm hands touching my bare skin sent a chill down my spine.

Due to Spencer’s essential hand placement on my body, I had to be the one to fumble with his bedroom’s doorknob until it finally gave way. Once more, we staggered through his room before he let our lips break apart to lightly toss me onto the bed. I giggled at the squeak of the bed, driving him visibly crazy.

He hastily unzipped his own dress pants, while I propped myself up on my elbows. When he met me on the bed, he hovered over me to the point of having to lay back down again just to see him clearly. He felt too far away so I drew him nearer by lacing my hand through his soft curls. I twirled one around my finger, which must’ve been too merciful for him to handle.

He placed his hand on the back of mine and slid it down to his cheek. He held my hand there for a moment, leaning into the skin of my palm prior to placing a chaste kiss on it.

He didn’t need to say it again for me to know what he was thinking.

I love you.

The anticipation was killing me and in the most impatient manner, I pulled him down to my level, mimicking his similar habit of face-grabbing during a kiss. I knew his hands would’ve flown to my face the way they did just minutes ago, but one was too preoccupied keeping himself up and the other was busy toying with the band of my thong. I shivered at the sensation of him slipping one finger under the material and letting it glide over my tender skin right above my heat.

“Spencer,” I mumbled in a kiss to bring his attention back to me. Although I was certainly interested to know the hidden talents of Spencer Reid and his fingers, I was restless. I’d been waiting years for this moment, and unlike most people, I didn’t want to wait another second. “I need you now.”

He pulled his head back so he could get a full view of my face to examine my sincerity. He wanted to know if I was sure, and my eyes told him such. He nodded in acknowledgement with such speed that I was sure he was craving this as much as I was.

Rather than looking at where our bodies were about to meet, I had to close my eyes so I could fully feel everything without any other sense taking that away from me. In a painfully slow manner, he lined himself up at my entrance. At first, he only lightly pushed in, and it was this slacken movement that made me cry out and grip his shoulders for stability.

He pushed further in until he was fully sheathed inside of me. There was a slight moment of regret for not letting him engage in foreplay before, but that quickly went away when the pain turned to pleasure. He gained more confidence in himself with each stroke, and I could feel it. The more powerfully he thrust, the more I felt myself tightening around him. The over simulation was a stark contrast from the stimulation I denied and so the sensation I was feeling was only heightened by the absence of it before. For that very reason, I knew I was already close. And maybe he knew it, too and just as sweet revenge, he decided to send me over the edge by pulling my leg over his shoulder to thrust into me a new angle. As I’m sure he predicted, I threw my head back as tears began to prick the corners of my eyes. He rode the ever exquisite border between pain and pleasure, and my tears were a manifestation of that. Not even a minute passed, before I tried to moan but pathetically failed, not even being able finish the pitiful wail without the both of us finishing together.

Our heavy panting synchronized and reverberated back to us while he slowed down his pace and pulled out.

Perhaps in the heat of the moment, we lost all logic and reason, considering that even up till now, neither of us had realized that he didn’t use a condom.

But what would eventually happen in the future as a result of this action, or inaction, would surely make us remember.

Spencer lowered himself down to kiss me breathlessly; strands of his hair clung to his forehead as sweat glimmered on both of us. Not until we were ready did we make our way to the bathroom so he could help clean me up. Once we returned, I gathered my clothes, but he made sure to grab my panties before I could even notice.

“Have you seen -“ I cut myself off when I saw what was dangling in his hands.

“Looking for this?” He teased.

All my energy had been spent on him that I couldn’t be bothered to fight for them back.

“Keep ‘em.” I smirked, my hand reaching down to pick up his jacket off the floor and hold it up. “Consider it a fair trade.”

No arguments from him.

Needless to say, I did end up finding a place to stay the night. Where and with whom you might ask?

Well, you can probably figure that one out for yourself.

_ _ _

I wish I could tell you I got a good night’s rest, and I could - it just wouldn’t be the truth.

Spencer and I spent the rest of the night just talking. We filled each other in on nearly ever second of the past 11 years, and once again, I found myself reverting back to the teenager I was at the science fair. The entire world revolved around us as we spoke to each other effortlessly, like no time had passed. Even in the periods of silence, I felt comfortable.

Spencer and I were lying on our sides facing one another when I felt compelled to profess that “I can’t talk this way with anyone. It’s just you.”

He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear with a small smile on his lips. He didn’t need to say that he felt the same way because I already knew. His hand never left my face but instead made its descent down my jawline and stopped at my chin. He raised his thumb to reach my lower lip, letting the pad of his finger graze over the soft skin of my lip.

It felt like he was tracing every detail of my body, running his eyes over every inch at least twice so as to fully commit everything to his memory.

At last, the tension broke when he positioned his hand comfortably at the back of my neck, bowing his head forward to kiss me. This one was quite different than our first, for it was gentler and warmer. We weren’t forcing ourselves to make up for lost time. In fact, this kiss was saying, “We’ve got plenty of time.”

Plenty of time indeed. Which we were happy to spend making love again.

And I will be the first to admit that if our first round of unprotected sex didn’t solidify our future predicament, this time certainly did.

Six Weeks Later ...

“Hello?” Clearly frustrated, Emilia waved her hand in front of my face to harness me back to earth. I hadn’t realized I zoned out until she scoffed at me. “Did you hear anything I just said?”

“No, sorry. Could you repeat it one more time?”

She set down the papers in front of her and sighed unhappily. “What’s going on with you? You’ve been so distant lately.”

It hurt to hear, even though it was the truth. I wasn’t intentionally being despondent, but it’s hard to be present when there’s so much occupying your mind, and there was one thing in particular that was keeping me up late at night recently.

My period has always been irregular. For as long as I’ve had it, I’ve always missed a few weeks, then it would become consistent, then it would be sporadic again. In fact, there was one year where I only had four periods total. So it didn’t strike me as odd when I realized three days ago that my last period was about seven weeks ago.

What did strike me as odd was the other symptoms I was experiencing. Menstruation cycles are known to closely mimic the symptoms of pregnancy, but with the knowledge that my period wasn’t coming, it was disconcerting to me that I was suffering the discomforts without the actual period itself.

To me, there was only one clear explanation for this anomaly.

I was pregnant.

Earlier in the day, I bought a pregnancy test and was late to work because of it. If Emilia hadn’t been suspicious of my behavior before, showing up late only made her suspicion greater.

I didn’t know when I’d take it, probably at home after work, but the anticipation was eating away at me. I would pace around the truck until Emilia finally told me to stop because the vehicle wouldn’t stop swaying with my every movement. I was biting my nails and chewing on each little piece that grew back just to bite it back down to the nub. My hands couldn’t stop shaking, my breathing wouldn’t slow down. I was a hysterical mess.

I didn’t tell Spencer any of my concerns, of course, but being as perceptive as he is, he noticed my strange mannerisms despite my best efforts to hide them.

“Your breathing just got faster. Are you feeling okay?” He paused the movie we were watching to check in on me one time. It should be known that the scene that caused my heavier breathing was a scene of a woman finding out she was pregnant and being absolutely devastated. I quickly brushed it off as just being too warm, to which he turned on his air conditioning. Luckily for me, he didn’t make the connection.

And it’s not that I didn’t want to tell Spencer - I really did - but why should I make a fuss about something if there ended up being nothing to worry about? That would just be extra stress, and the last thing a new, blossoming relationship needs is additional strain.

So without Spencer, I had to opt for the next best thing - my sister.

I’d reached my wits end, and I couldn’t keep up the act any longer. I was walking on eggshells with practically everyone I knew, and I’d sooner go crazy if I didn’t tell someone what I was really feeling. So in response to her question, I finally told the truth.

“I think I might be pregnant.”

You can imagine the shock on my sister’s face. Emilia’s jaw became one with the floor as her eyes widened so big I thought they would pop out of her head.

“You’re pregnant?” Already her eyes were welling up with tears of joy.

“I don’t know yet.” I put my arms around her to keep her calm and stable while the emotions began overpowering her. I wanted it to serve as a reminder to not get her hopes up, otherwise she’d get mine up, too.

“Well, have you taken a test?”

I reached for my purse behind her and rummaged through it until I finally retrieved the box. Holding it up, I reluctantly suggested, “I thought maybe you could be there for me when I did?”

She squealed with joyful elation, practically shattering the window pane with the high pitch of her voice. On top of that, she was jumping up and down with elegant grace that I had to wonder how her pregnant body could even manage to do such a thing.

“Of course, I will! Come, come, let’s go.”

We hopped off the truck and to the nearest restroom, which admittedly wasn’t the nicest of places, nor was the place I ever imagined as a child that I’d be finding out I was pregnant in, but it had to do for now.

When I first came out of the stall, I set the test face down on the sink, so that we wouldn’t see it until it was ready. Emilia set a timer for 10 minutes, but in the meantime, all we could do was wait. Neither of us could stay still; Emilia bounced up and down, rubbing her belly while facilitating some sort of breathing exercise. Meanwhile, I kept tapping my foot impatiently.

Ding! Ding! Ding!

Emilia’s alarm scared the shit out of me, and we both were startled by the blaring sound. It was so jarring, but even that wouldn’t compare to the fear I felt when I realized it was finally time.

“Do you wanna look or should I?” She asked.

“You look.” I said at first. But when she lunged forward to take it, I did, too. “No wait, I should.” Then another moment of hesitation. “No, you do it. I can’t.”

I held my hands over my mouth while I watched her carefully lift the test off the sink, maneuvering it in such a way that only she would see the results. I watched her expression closely for any sign of a reaction, but she was stoic as can be. I couldn’t tell if she was disappointed, happy - nothing. Complete and total poker face.

“Come on, Emilia! What does it say?” I blurted anxiously.

“Well, first, what do you want it to say?”

That was a question I hadn’t considered. I was so busy worrying about what I didn’t know, to pause and think about what I wanted to find out. On the one hand, I’d be ecstatic if the test confirmed that I was pregnant. I’d jump for joy because that was what I always wanted, right? But on the other hand, if it said I wasn’t pregnant, then I’d be sort of sad because I got so close to that lifelong dream. But after that, I’d probably just be relieved to have dodged a bullet.

“I don’t know,” I confessed. “I don’t know-”

“Don’t think. Just tell me. What do you want it to say?”

Without missing a beat, I replied, “Positive.” My sister and I alike were stunned by my answer. “Yeah,” I nodded slowly. “Positive. I want it to say positive.” I repeated, to cement my earnest desire.

Emilia’s facade melted away as she began to shake her head. “I’m sorry, (y/n). There’s only one line.”

We both knew what that meant, even if she didn’t explicitly say it. I sighed dejectedly, which was a surprise to even myself. I didn’t expect to be this disappointed, and yet I was. The knot it my stomach worked itself free, and where that pit used to be was just emptiness. My heart sunk and steadied itself, and my breathing resumed its normal pace.

“Well,” I bit my lip. “I guess that’s that.”

Emilia instantly drew nearer to pull me in for a hug, one I was not ready to accept but welcomed anyway. “I’m sorry, (y/n). But I mean, sometimes tests just come out with false negatives.” With her face still buried in the crook of my neck in our hug, she mumbled, “Not this one, though. This one’s positive.”

Immediately, I retreated from our hug and pulled her in front of my view. The sneaky girl had a huge grin that took up 99% of her face.

“You’re pregnant!” She screamed at the top of her lungs, shaking my body violently. We embraced each other in another hug while simultaneously jumping up and down. “I just wanted to trick you so you would know how you really feel. Now you know!”

And I did know. I did know that I wanted this baby and that I was glad it even existed.

Not long after our mini-celebration did I start to come down from the high of my euphoria. A certain realization dawned on me like a cloud of gray hanging above my head to rain on my parade.

What about Spencer?

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　

PART 2 HERE!

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pascalpanic · 4 years ago

Text

Caffeine Rush: Chapter Three / Cappucino

Summary: Javier shows up to your coffee shop again, at an ungodly hour.

W/C: 3K

Warnings: food/eating, coffee, implied age gap (reader is about 25)

A/N: I don’t have anything to say I just hope you guys enjoy :)) OH JK YES I DO: I’ve decided that Caffeine Rush will come out on mondays or tuesdays, alternating every week!

previous chapter || next chapter || masterlist

Cappuccino: two-thirds frothed milk, one-third espresso. Light and airy, full of fluff. Has a stronger coffee flavor than a latte.

As you drive him back to the hotel, you smile over at him. He looks so gorgeous, his dark hair dampened from the snow, his lips soft and extra pink from being pressed to yours. “How long did you say you’re in town for?” You ask him.

“A month,” the man tells you with a nod. “There’s a whole policy with vacation time. Use it or lose it, basically. They told me I had to use it now, so I told them to give me a month. I really have about… three months saved up now,” he chuckles.

The thought makes you grin. Javier will be here for Christmas. He’ll be here for New Year’s- that is, if he’s staying. “And what are your plans for it?” You ask softly. You hope whatever they are, they won’t take him away from you.

Javier is eating the second red velvet cake in the passenger’s seat, and you giggle at the sight before turning back to the road. Crumbs gather on the top of his shirt and in his mustache, flecks of red in the warm brown.

He smiles at your laughter. “I have none. I have no work to do. I can’t go back to Colombia early- well, I could, but I won’t be working so it wouldn’t be worth much,” he sighs, thinking aloud. “I could go home and visit my father, but I couldn’t stay there for very long. My hometown is a place you only want to stay for two or three days, at most.”

Your eyes watch his face, that surprisingly soft skin and how it moves with his expressions. Your eyes are holding a question, even if you don’t ask it aloud. Javier can read it without your words as he turns to look at you. “I’ve heard D.C. is nice over the holidays,” you offer softly. It’s less of an offer and more of a silent question: please stay. I want you to stay.

Turning back to you, there’s cream cheese frosting in his mustache and an adorable smirk on his face. Just when you thought it was impossible for this man to be any more beautiful. “I think that sounds like a wonderful idea. Then, like I said earlier, I have time to properly romance you.”

You grin and stare at the road. “I don’t normally kiss on the first date. I don’t think it’ll be hard for you to romance me,” you tease. “I can be your personal tour guide to the city. I only work mornings, so we can do whatever we want all day and night. Which is good, because the Smithsonians are only open during the day, and I want to take you to all of them.”

You ramble when you’re excited. Javier can already tell, can see you slowly leaving that shell you’ve hidden yourself in through all of your time in D.C. Your eyes glimmer in excitement as you consider the things you can do, the places you can take him.

Javier smiles back. “You’ll have to show me everything. I’ve never been here for anything other than work.”

“Oh, trust me,” you laugh. “I know all the best parts of the city. You’ll never be bored with me around.”

Javier’s immediately certain that’s true.

You told Javier last night that you work from 5:00 to 10:30, and he told you he’d swing by for a coffee. What else did he have to do without you?

What you didn’t expect was for the door chime to jingle at precisely 5:34, and for the customer that enters to be none other than the newest head of the DEA’s investigations into the Cali Cartel.

Rushing around the counter, you laugh and throw your arms around him. “Hi, Javi,” you chuckle and bury your face into his neck. He wears a warm red flannel and dark blue jeans, boots beneath them and a thick black coat over it all. He smells like soap and aftershave.

“I’m starting to like the fact that you’re a hugger,” he laughs as he hugs you back, resting his head on top of yours.

You break away and brush off your apron. “When I said you should come visit me, I meant, like, at normal human functioning hours. Like, maybe 9 or something.”

Javier frowns a little as he looks at you. “This is when I normally get up. Later than normal, actually,” he shrugs and puts his hands in his pockets. “You got a dark roast this morning?” He asks as he nods his head to the side, gesturing to the big vats of brewing coffee.

You smile at the question, chuckling a little. Of course he’s observant and remembers little details- it’s his literal job. “We do. Large redeye?” You ask, already heading behind the counter and back to the ceramic mugs.

The man tilts his head. “Actually… I think I changed my mind. Can I do another peppermint mocha?” he asks, a shy look on his face.

Looking up at him, you bite your lip at his expression. He’s so goddamn cute, really, even when he’s being ashamed for something stupid. “You don’t have to be shy about it,” you tease and nod. “There’s nothing less manly about you for ordering something sweet. In fact, most of the sweet drinks we make here are ordered by the business guys or Congressmen.”

Javier chuckles and leans forward on the counter on his elbows. “Oh, yeah?”

You nod and laugh at the memory of other customers. “Matthew, he works at the senators’ offices downtown, he’s a regular. He orders a caramel frappe with marshmallow and vanilla. Full shots of both.” As always, you happily chat as you make the recipe you know by heart.

Javier’s brow furrows. You’ve known the man maybe 24 hours, but you’re starting to get a good read on him. You can tell when he’s confused or worried or happy or stressed by the way his eyebrows position themselves. This one is a lighthearted confusion. “What’s a frappe?”

Your eyes glimmer with uncharacteristic excitement for so early in the morning. “Wait. So you’re telling me you’ve never had one?”

He shakes his head, pulling his leather jacket tighter around him. The shop is cold this early in the morning, before the body heat of customers and the steaming espresso machines warm the building. “No. What is it?” He asks again.

“It’s delicious, oh my god,” you grin. “It’s kind of like a coffee milkshake. It’s frozen and creamy, blended with ice and coffee. It’s my favorite in the summer, when hot drinks just feel too much.”

“So it’s light?” He asks, gratefully accepting his ceramic mug when you hand it over. It’s peaked with foamy white cream and pieces of candy canes. Javier thinks it reminds him of you. Soft, warm, sweet and indulgent. Energizing. Not like anything he’s ever had before, but he’s already addicted.

“Not really. Like I said, it’s really creamy. It’s like a milkshake, really. That’s the best way to describe it. Do you want me to make one and you can try some?” You offer as you stir the spare espresso shot with a little cream and sugar in a to-go cup for yourself. The warm sugary scent rises and you smile to yourself.

Javier shakes his head. “Not if it’s a cold drink. It’s too cold outside anyway. And in here. You do have heating in here, right?” He asks dryly as he sips the hot drink. You can see his broad shoulders soften, the tension rising into the air with the steam from his mocha.

You roll your eyes but shrug. “It’ll get hot in here later. I just appreciate that it’s cold now,” you chuckle and chug the espresso shot, tossing the paper cup into the garbage. “What can I get you for breakfast?” You ask as you nod to the pastry case further down the bar.

He shakes his head. “Don’t eat breakfast.”

You frown. “That’s going to have to change. You seem like the type who doesn’t take care of yourself, thinks he’s too good for it,” you tease and fold your arms on the countertop, leaning into it.

Javier scoffs. “I am not too good for breakfast,” he says, amused.

“Then eat.”

The mustached man rolls his eyes. “Fine. Maybe I don’t take very good care of myself, but I don’t need you to take care of me.”

That makes you frown. “Well, that’s too bad, because if you want to kiss me like we did last night, you’re going to have to let me take care of you, Javi.”

Javi. No one ever calls him that. He’s always Agent or Agente Peña, usually just Peña for the sake of convenience. Those who know him better call him Javier, people like Steve or Trujillo. True, he asked you to call him Javi, but the name is like a song from your lips, as soft as calling him baby. He absolutely fucking loves it. Can’t get enough of it.

You begin to babble on about the baker here and his skills, talking about the various treats beneath the glass case. There are muffins and scones, donuts and sweet breads, croissants and various puff-pastry delicacies. Javier is overwhelmed. He normally doesn’t eat many sweets, even though he loves them.

A cinnamon-sugar sprinkled pastry twist calls to him. He asks for one of those and insists that he pay for it, even as you wander away from the cash register to prove he can’t pay.

Javier stands at the bar as you make yourself your own hot drink, chatting as you stir the syrup with the espresso. God, you love that mustache, you think as you smile to yourself and look down. “So. How did the mustache come to be?” You ask him, smiling and tilting your head to the side in question.

Javier raises an eyebrow. “This?” He laughs, smoothing it down with his forefinger and thumb. It brushes out some sprinkles of cinnamon and sugar from his pastry and you bite your lip to hold back a laugh.

You both have to talk a bit louder as you begin steaming the milk for your cappuccino, but it hides your giggle as you say your next words: “Yes, the porn stache.”

“Hey,” he frowns and sips his drink, setting it back down and smiling again. “It was a thing with my father. When I turned 30, he told me I was a real man now, and real men wear mustaches. He always had one, so I said okay. He shaved it for me and taught me the right way to do it and everything. I liked the way it looked, and it stuck, I guess,” he shrugs and chuckles.

“Really? Because that thing looks straight out of 1975, but I don’t think you’re old enough for it to be that old.” You giggle. The mustache is very retro, certainly behind the times and the fashion of ‘93. “You can’t possibly be… what would that make you from ‘75… 45?”

Javier shrugs. “Well, you’re not far off. I’m 40.”

Your brow furrows. You certainly hadn’t expected that. He looks so young, really. 40 wasn’t even a thought in your mind- maybe a stressed-out 30. “Really?” You ask, though you doubt he’d lie and make himself seem older. He should probably know that you’re around the proper age you are, seeing as you’ve told him about just finishing grad school.

He frowns too. “Is that a problem?” He asks hurriedly, standing up straight from his hunched position, where he leaned over the counter to be closer to you.

“No, no,” you shake your head, and his body relaxes. “Of course not,” you smile and put your hand over his. “You just look really young for 40.”

Javier shakes his head, smiling a little at the compliment. He doesn’t get many of those, the ones where people tell him he looks young or he’s cute or any non-sexual compliments in general. “No I don’t. You’re just being cute.”

“No!” You laugh happily. “You saw my face. You’re a special agent of the D-E-A,” you say, drawing out the letters. “Head of the Calí Cartel investigations. You can read me like a damn book, Javi,” you smile at him. “Tell me, do I look like I’m lying?”

Javier shakes his head, the smile growing wider and his cheeks turning a slightly warmer shade. These kind of honest, pure and uncomplicated compliments make him almost embarrassed. “Yeah, yeah,” he sighs, brushing it off.

You’re absolutely beaming by now. “You’re not used to this, are you?” You tease as you scoop the foam from the milk pitcher into your ceramic mug, with chocolate and almond syrup in the bottom already. Mandy’s in the back stocking something, and no one else is in the shop yet. With this privacy, you lean across the counter, and Javier matches your position.

His face is painfully close to yours. You can feel his coffee breath, and you giggle softly. “Hey. Javi.”

“Yeah?” He asks teasingly.

“I like you a lot.”

Javier laughs genuinely, kissing you softly for a moment before breaking away and standing up straight again. “I like you too, abejita,” he says and finishes off his peppermint mocha.

“What does that mean?” You ask him. You’re nearly fluent in Spanish, from having studied it for years, but the word is unfamiliar.

“Little bee,” he chuckles. “You’re fluttering around this coffee shop like you’re on an adrenaline rush and it’s 5:30 in the goddamn morning.”

Little bee. It makes your heart race in your chest like a bee’s wings, a million beats per second. Goddamnit, this Javier knows what he’s doing, you think to yourself. He must be doing this for the sole purpose of stealing your heart; why else would he be this fucking sweet and sexy and flirtatious?

“It’s the caffeine rush,” you shake your head and wave a hand dismissively. You’ve already chugged a few shots of espresso, and your chocolate-almond cappuccino is about halfway gone now. Either way, Javier makes your resting heart rate double just from looking your way.

“Sure,” he teases and raises an eyebrow. “I’m gonna hit the bathroom. Be right back.” He sticks his hands in the pockets of his heavy wool coat as he heads to the restrooms, near the front of the store.

You take his mug back and Mandy wanders out from the back. “Wow. Who’s got you so chatty?” She asks out of genuine curiosity. She didn’t see Javier come in or go to the bathroom.

You’d talked with Mandy while you prepared the store, filling her in on all of the details of last night’s date with Javier. “It’s, uh, Javi, actually,” you laugh softly as you pull more espresso shots to make him another peppermint mocha.

“You’re kidding,” the woman squeals, her curls flipping over her shoulder as she tosses them back. “Why is he here so early?” She asks in confusion, making herself a drink on the machine next to you.

Your foot taps out a quick rhythm against the tile floor beneath you, the energy already flowing through your body. “Beats me. He says he wakes up this early normally. I don’t know if I believe it, but…” you shrug and stir the shots into the peppermint syrup, scooping chocolate chips into a steaming pitcher with milk and putting it under the steaming wand.

“He’s in the DEA, isn’t he?” She asks. “Maybe they start work really early in the morning. I’ve heard they work really long hours.”

“Well, he did say he works a lot,” you nod. “I don’t know. Doesn’t matter. He’s here now and he’ll get to see me cry my way through the morning rush,” you say sarcastically.

Mandy nudges your shoulder. “Says the most competent barista who works here,” she scoffs. “You have everyone out the door in under three minutes. That’s no easy feat.”

“Okay,” you roll your eyes and pour the chocolate milk into the syrup and espresso, stirring it with a long, twisted spoon. “I doubt that, but thank you.” You swirl a perfect peak of whipped cream on the top, then sprinkle the candy cane pieces on.

“I think she’s right,” you hear Javier’s voice from the other side of the counter.

“Stalker,” you tease and put his mug in front of him.

“Am not. Just think you’re good at what you do.”

“I made you a refill,” you say, ignoring his compliment. “Oh, Javier, this is Mandy. You might remember her from yesterday. Mandy, this is Javier.”

She nods and shakes the hand that Javier offers. “Nice to meet you- well, again,” she says with a bright smile. “You got the prettiest girl here.”

“Mandy,” you roll your eyes. She just laughs as she makes her way to the back of the store again.

Javier watches her then turns back to you with a smile. “I think she was right on both of those,” he comments with a smile on his face.

“Go sit down, stop flirting with me, and drink your damn coffee, Javi,” you teasingly scold him with a smile, turning away to go wash the steaming pitcher and spoon you used to make his drink.

Another customer walks in the shop. You can tell from the jingle of the bells on the door. With that, Javier finds a table in the lobby and sits at it, reading the daily newspaper and sipping his peppermint mocha. He’s starting to see why you’re so addicted to these. To him, they taste like you. -

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