#just a dad and his son meeting up again face to face after X number of years

[chloesimaginationthings]

Michael Afton’s awkward family reunion in FNAF 3,,

[joemama-2]

velvet lies

pairing: gojo x fem reader synopsis: crippling debt and possible evictions have ruined you. working two jobs with no downtime, and a five-year-old son, you really don't know the meaning of taking a break. after continuous questions about his father, you have decided to finally let your son meet his dad. only thing is, he has no idea said son exists. and to top it off, you have not a single clue about what kinds of things will transpire from this sudden revelation. wc: 18.2k (don't kill me) tags/warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, fluff, romance, alcohol, classism, mom! reader, lying, abuse, MAJOR angst, slow burn, exes to lovers, (mentions of) cheating, scandals, death, blood, drugs, drama, family drama, miscommunication, blackmail, unhealthy coping mechanisms , depression, manipulation a/n: I'm dead, ik i said i wouldn’t write again for a couple days but i had a moment of epiphany series masterlist < previous chapter < next chapter

Walking through the long, but suffocating hallways of the office is excruciating for Satoru—it always is. Today, it feels extra excruciating. He’s been out of the office for a few days now, ignoring his business responsibilities and family, he knows he’ll probably face hell today. How painful.

“Good morning, Mr. Gojo.”

“Hello, Mr. Gojo.”

“Nice to see you, Mr. Gojo.”

“Mr. Gojo!”

A voice says, one he clocks as his secretary. He sighs, but continues to walk forward, forcing Aiko to practailly sprint just to catch up with him. There’s stacks of papers in her arms, her cheeks red with a small sheen of sweat painting her skin. And it’s only the start of the day. He almost starts feel bad for her. “Mr. Gojo! Where have you been? I’ve called and texted, I even went to your house and you weren’t there!”

“Vacation.” he says curtly, not breaking his stride. His tone is clipped, his voice devoid of any real emotion, and it’s enough to make Aiko falter for just a second.

“A vacation?!” she exclaims, breathless. “You didn’t even leave a notice! Do you have any idea how many calls I’ve had to field from your father’s office? They were—”

“Livid. Yeah, I’m sure.” Satoru waves a hand dismissively, rounding a corner and heading toward the elevator. Aiko scrambles to keep up, adjusting the stack of papers precariously balanced in her arms.

“They’re expecting you in the boardroom at ten,” she says, her voice slightly frantic. “And Mr. Gojo said if you didn’t show up this time, he’d—”

“I’m here now, aren’t I?” he interrupts, pressing the elevator button with unnecessary force. The tension in his shoulders is palpable, but his face remains a mask of indifference. 

“Yes, but—” Aiko stops herself, hesitating. Her voice softens. “Are you okay, sir?”

For a moment, Satoru freezes. The elevator dings, the doors sliding open, but he doesn’t move. The question hangs in the air like a challenge he isn’t ready to face. “Peachy,” he finally says, stepping inside. Aiko hesitates before following, fumbling with the papers in her arms. Once she’s inside, Satoru presses the number 15, doors soon closing. The ascent to the highest floor of the high rise office building begins. As the elevator begins its rising, the silence is thick and awkward. Satoru leans against the mirrored wall, arms crossed, his eyes fixed on the glowing numbers above the doors. “You’ve got a lot to catch up on,” Aiko ventures, breaking the silence. “There’s the overseas partnership meeting at noon, and your parents are waiting to—”

“They’ll wait,” Satoru cuts her off, his tone colder now. “I’m not on their clock.”

Aiko flinches but doesn’t argue. She adjusts the papers again, her gaze darting nervously to him before focusing on the floor. “Mr. Gojo, they seemed very serious today, more than usual. Your mother was even holding back tears, but she didn’t look sad, she looked…angry.”

His mind turns into uncertainty. His mother’s here and she’s crying? Did he piss them off that much? Well, she’s always been quite the dramatic woman. It can’t be that bad. When the elevator doors open, Satoru steps out without a word, leaving Aiko to scurry after him in usual form. The sound of his shoes clicking against the polished marble floor echoes through the hallway as Satoru walks toward his personal office. Aiko struggles to keep up, her footsteps hurried and uneven behind him.

He caresllesy pushes his doors open, going over to plop himself down in his chair behind the desk. Heavily exhaling while ltilting his head back, eyes fixated on the bare ceiling above. Seems like his carelessness is going to catch up with him today. Although he’d rather not deal with anything business related right now, especially his parents, he’s been gone more than he should. He can already anticipate he’ll leave late today, the monotonous voices of the businessmen, the disapproving words from his parents, the headache that will break through around noon, and the lingering, mundane question in the back of his mind of what you and Koji will be eating tonight for dinner. Maybe I should send her some money to eat out, or to buy a few groceries?

However, another thought makes its presence known by her very…unpleasant voice. He almost forget about her.

“Satoru!”

Aiko squeaks as she’s negligently pushed to the side by Himari, some of the papers flying out her hands—to which she bends down to pick it up, giving the other woman an annoyed glance. Himari plops into Satoru’s lap, arms instinctively moving around his neck. “Where have you been? I’ve been worried sick, baby. I thought something happened.”

Satoru doesn't react at first, his head still tilted back, eyes glued to the ceiling. His jaw tightens ever so slightly, but he doesn’t move, doesn’t speak. Himari presses herself closer, her fingers running through the hair at the nape of his neck as she leans in. Her voice softens, pink lips downturning into a pout, dripping with almost a faux sense of concern. “You didn’t answer my calls, Satoru. I thought we were past all this disappearing nonsense. What’s going on?”

Aiko straightens up from the floor, her lips pressed into a thin line as she shuffles the papers back into order. “Excuse me, Ms. Nakamura,” she says tightly, her eyes flicking toward Satoru. “Mr. Gojo has a full schedule today. If you need to discuss personal matters, perhaps—”

“Not now, you,” Himari cuts her off without looking, her attention solely on Satoru. “This is between Satoru and I, not the help.”

Aiko bristles but doesn’t argue, standing stiffly by the door.

Satoru finally moves, letting out a low sigh as he straightens his posture, forcing Himari to shift slightly on his lap. His hands rest limply on the armrests of his chair, making no effort to return her embrace. “Himari,” he says flatly, his voice void of any attempt at warmth. “I’ve been busy.”

“Busy?” She pulls back just enough to look at him, her perfectly shaped brows furrowing. “Too busy to call me? To even let me know you’re alive?” Her voice rises slightly, her frustration barely contained. “You just vanished, and I had to find out from your secretary that you weren’t even in the office!”

His lips twitch, but it’s not quite a smile. “And yet, here I am. Alive and well.”

“That’s not the point!” Himari huffs, her grip on him tightening as if to keep him from brushing her off. “You can’t just disappear like that, Satoru. It’s irresponsible. It’s—”

“Unprofessional? Reckless? Embarrassing?” he interrupts, his tone sharp enough to make her flinch slightly. “Yeah, I’ve heard it all before. What do you want me to say, Himari? I have my own life too, baby.”

She stares at him, her lips parting as if to respond, but no words come out. For a moment, the air between them is thick with tension. Her expression shifts, the frustration giving way to something colder. “You’ve been acting strange lately,” she says, her tone accusing. “Ever since—” She stops herself, her eyes narrowing. “Ever since last time I saw you.” Himari doesn’t move from his lap immediately, her arms tightening around his neck as if trying to pull him closer. Her perfectly manicured nails graze his skin, and she leans in, her voice then dropping into something softer, more coaxing. “You know I’m only upset because I care about you,” she says, her eyes searching his face. “You can’t keep shutting me out like this, Satoru. I’m your girlfriend, for heaven’s sake. I’m supposed to be the person you lean on.”

Satoru doesn’t respond right away. His head tilts slightly, his expression unreadable as he studies her. The silence stretches on long enough for Himari to shift uncomfortably. His eyes move to hers, the first real spark of emotion flashing across his face. “You have to understand, okay? I’m… going through stuff right now, I just needed a break.”

“A break from me?”

“Himari.” His voice is quieter now, the edge in it is unmistakable, but also resigned. He continues, willing himself to react calmly, “you’re not helping by showing up here unannounced.”

“Unannounced?” she scoffs, her tone sharpening again. “I wouldn’t have to if you actually answered your phone. Or your emails. Or—oh, I don’t know—told me where the hell you were!”

“I needed space,” he repeats simply, his gaze drifting toward the window behind her.

“Space?” she repeats incredulously. “From me?” Her voice trembles slightly, though whether it’s from anger or hurt, even she doesn’t seem sure. “You can’t just disappear without saying anything, Satoru. Do you have any idea how humiliating it is to have your parents calling me, asking if I know where you are? To have my parents asking why their future son-in-law is MIA?”

Future son in law. That makes his brows furrow, a frown taking place on his face. “I didn’t ask you to answer for me,” he says evenly, his eyes meeting hers again.

“No, you didn’t,” she snaps, pulling back further now. “But you also didn’t give me a choice. What was I supposed to do? Just sit there and let everyone think I don’t know what’s going on with my own boyfriend?”

“You could have,” he says with a shrug, the corner of his mouth lifting in a ghost of a smirk. “Might’ve been easier.”

Her jaw drops, and for a moment, she looks genuinely stunned. “Are you serious right now? You’re impossible, Satoru. Absolutely impossible.”

“I’ve been told,” he says lightly, but there’s no humor in his voice.

She gets up abruptly, smoothing her Valentino Garavino dress with quick, agitated movements. “This isn’t funny,” she says, her tone colder now. “You think you can just brush me off like this? Like I don’t matter? I’m the one who’s been by your side all this time, Satoru. Me.”

He sighs. “Just stop, please.”

“I’m just saying,” Himari presses on, her voice a little too sharp, “I’ve been dealing with this mess all on my own, while you’ve been out who knows where—doing who knows what—and now I’m supposed to just pretend everything is fine? That’s not how this works.”

“I didn’t ask for any of this,” Satoru says with finality, his patience running thin. “I didn’t ask you to sit here, waiting for me, wondering where I’ve been. I needed a break. A chance to breathe.”

“From me?” she asks again, disbelief written across her face.

He decides to concede. “Yes,” he says quietly. “From everything. You wouldn’t understand.”

Himari falters for a moment, her face flickering with a mixture of hurt and frustration. “And I don’t matter enough for you to tell me why?”

His gaze softens, just for a second, but it quickly hardens again. “I don’t need to explain myself, Himari.” He looks away from her, not trusting himself to speak without snapping. There’s a quiet but heavy tension hanging in the air.

“I thought we had something,” Himari says after a long pause, her voice quieter now, though the hurt still lingers in her tone. “I thought I meant more to you.”

“You do,” Satoru replies, the words sounding almost empty, even to him. “But right now, I need time to sort things out. Can you understand that?”

She glares at him for a moment longer before letting out an exasperated huff. “Fine. Fuck it, ignore things like you always do.” She grabs her bag, turning on her heel. “But don’t think I’m just going to sit around waiting for you to figure things out. You owe me better than this, Satoru.” She storms out, her heels clicking sharply against the floor, leaving Aiko awkwardly standing in the doorway.

Satoru remains frozen in his chair, staring at the empty space she left behind. He exhales slowly, rubbing a hand over his face as his mind drifts back to the other matters weighing on him. The silence feels suffocating, and even though his thoughts want to wander to her—to you—he forces himself to focus. But something lingers, something unsettled that he can’t shake.

Aiko clears her throat, stepping forward cautiously. “Um… should I reschedule your morning meetings, sir?”

Satoru leans back in his chair again, closing his eyes briefly. “No,” he mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Just… give me five minutes.” Aiko nods, backing out of the room and closing the door softly behind her. Alone now, Satoru exhales heavily, the weight of the morning and what’s to come settling over him like a thick fog.

Jesus Christ. Can I just have one day without everyone breathing down my fucking neck?

“And so, this is why my team and I believe it’s prevalent to keep things neutral, but cordial with the Nexus Group.” The head of the negotiation team, a sharp-dressed man in his late forties with a voice as dry as the monotony of the topic at hand, clicked through another slide of the dull PowerPoint presentation which casted faint shadows over the darkened boardroom. The screen displayed a web of connections and partnerships that Nexus had with other firms, none of which particularly interested Satoru.

Neutral and cordial. Two words he had no patience for today.

He slouched slightly in his chair, his fingers drumming against the polished wood of the table. He wasn’t wearing his sunglasses—his mother would’ve had a fit if she saw him disrespecting the board by doing so—but he felt the familiar strain behind his eyes nonetheless, holding back a heavy sigh.

“Mr. Gojo?” 

The sound of his name snapped him out of his haze. He blinked, realizing the room was waiting for him to respond. All eyes were on him, some expectant, some wary. “Hm?” he hummed, sitting up just enough to look like he was paying attention.

The negotiator cleared his throat. “Your thoughts on maintaining a neutral stance with Nexus, sir?”

For a moment, he didn’t respond. His gaze lingered on the projector screen, though he wasn’t really seeing it. The weight of everything—the meeting, his parents waiting to speak with him, you and Koji constantly in the back of his mind—made it impossible to focus. He just wishes these imbeciles could make a single decision without confiding in him first. Finally, he sighed, leaning back and pinching the bridge of his nose. “I think…” he began, his voice softer than usual, almost detached, “that we’ve been through this already.”

The negotiator hesitated. “Well, yes, but we wanted to ensure the approach aligns with your vision—”

“My vision?” Satoru interrupted, his tone bordering on tired amusement. He dropped his hand and glanced around the room, his expression almost blank. “My vision is that we don’t waste time overthinking what Nexus might do. If they’re going to cause problems, we deal with it. If they’re not, we move forward. Simple.” 

A few people exchanged uneasy glances, but no one argued; they know better. “Understood, sir,” the negotiator said, his voice quieter now.

Satoru didn’t reply, turning his gaze to the window instead. The faint reflection of the room in the glass blurred with the skyline beyond. He couldn’t remember the last time he truly cared about one of these meetings. The discussion carried on around him, voices blending into a low hum. Every so often, someone would glance his way, but he didn’t react. His thoughts drifted, heavier and heavier, to the inevitable confrontation waiting for him after this meeting. He sighed slowly, shifting in his chair. The tension building in his chest had been there for days, clawing at him, and this—this pointless back-and-forth—only made it worse.

“Satoru,” Nanami’s voice cut through the fog, quiet but firm, “want to wrap this up for today?” Satoru blinked at him, then at the rest of the room. Everyone was waiting, polite smiles masking their unease. He straightened a little, though it felt like dragging himself through water

“Yeah,” he said simply. “Let’s revisit this later.” The meeting adjourned, and as the others filed out, Satoru stayed behind, staring blankly at the table. He knew he couldn’t avoid the next part of the day forever, but for now, he just wanted to sit in the quiet, even if it was only for a moment.

Nanami stays behind until the last man leaves, taking this moment to face his colleague with his usual bored—but calculated gaze. “What’s up with you? First, you go AWOL for days on end, and now you come back and look like you don’t know about a single thing that’s happening. That or you don’t care.”

“I never truly do,” Satoru replies, swiveling. 

Nanami shakes his head, running a hand through his blonde locks. “Seriously, Satoru. Can you just fix up your act for the next few days, at least?”

Satoru raises a thin, white eyebrow. “Next few days, hm? Why, what’s happening in these next few days?” He uses air quotes.

“For fuck’s sake,” Nanami groans, arms crossing. “You forgot?”

Satoru tilted his head, feigning thought, though the blankness in his eyes betrayed his apathy. “Hmm... enlighten me.”

Nanami pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like a curse. “The annual board dinner, Monday evening. The one where you’re expected to charm the investors and keep them from pulling out of their contracts. The dinner that your father has been planning for months.”

Satoru hummed, his head falling back against the chair with exaggerated dramatics. “Oh, that dinner. Right. The one where I play puppet for a bunch of old men who care more about profit margins than people.”

Nanami didn’t rise to the bait, though his gaze hardened. “The dinner where your family’s reputation is at stake, Satoru. It’s not optional, and you know it.”

Satoru swung his chair in a slow circle, his long legs stretched out as if the conversation wasn’t happening. “Guess I should dust off my charm, huh? Or maybe I’ll just stand there and look pretty—that usually does the trick.”

Nanami’s jaw tightened, his patience clearly wearing thin. “This isn’t a joke. You’ve already caused enough waves by disappearing last week. If you don’t show up, or worse, if you show up like this…” He gestured vaguely at Satoru, encompassing his disheveled demeanor. “…then don’t expect your father, especially your mother to forgive you anytime soon.”

Satoru stopped spinning, his chair facing Nanami now. He rested his elbow on the armrest, propping his chin in his hand. “You sound like her, you know. Should I start calling you ‘Mom’ too?”

Nanami rolled his eyes, clearly done with the conversation. “Do whatever you want, Satoru. Just don’t screw this up.” With that, he turned and walked towards the doors. Stopping for a second and giving one last thought. “I don’t know what’s going on with you, but you need to stop running from your responsibilities, it’s catching up with you.” Then, the sound of the door shutting behind him follows, leaving Satoru alone in the silence once more.

For a long moment, Satoru stayed where he was, the room empty except for the faint hum of the projector. He stared blankly at the table, his mind a tangle of thoughts he didn’t want to undo. He let out a heavy puff of air, the sound filling the silence. “Yeah,” he muttered to no one in particular. “That’s the problem, isn’t it?” He shakes his head, the density of Nanami’s words settling over him like a heavy cloak. The idea of the board dinner—of facing his parents, the investors, the endless expectations—made his chest tighten. But even that wasn’t the heaviest thing on his mind. He reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone. His finger hovered over the screen, debating whether to send a message. Whether to ask you if you were okay, if Koji had eaten, if you’d even want to hear from him. Instead, he locked the phone and tossed it onto the desk, leaning back in his chair. For now, all he could do was sit in the quiet and try to pull himself together before the next storm hit. 

Nanami’s right, it’s catching up to him. 

“Where is that little bastard?”

“Mrs. Gojo!”

“Where is he?”

“I-I believe he’s still in the—”

The doors abruptly opening causes Satoru’s head to swivel in the direction of them. He almost wishes he just sink into a hole. The face of his mother, looking pretty damn pissed off, is glaring at him. A familiar look to her son. He still doesn’t know what he did wrong—besides ignoring the business for a week. Still, she’s that upset? “You,” she points a red nail in her son’s direction, to which he stands up. “Get your ass in your father’s office, now.”

“For what?” Satoru asks, though he’s already making his way to her. He then yelps out in surprise when his mother reaches her hand up and pinches his earlobe between her two fingers. “Ow! Mom! What the hell?!”

“Shut it, boy.” She snaps out, hauling his ass down the corridor to his father’s office. The employees watch on, eyes wide with curiosity and surprise as their boss is practically getting manhandled by his own mother like he’s a child all over again. 

“Seriously, Mom, let go!” Satoru hissed, trying to pry her fingers off his ear without much success.

“You don’t get to make demands today, Satoru,” she snapped, her grip tightening. “Not after the mess you’ve made.”

“What mess?!” he exclaimed, stumbling slightly as she yanked him forward.

“Oh, don’t act clueless. You’re in enough trouble, don’t you dare add stupidity to the list,” she shot back.

By the time they reached his father’s office, Satoru was basically limping from the awkward gait forced upon him. His mother flung the door open with so much force that it banged against the wall. His father, seated behind his imposing desk, barely glanced up, though the faint crease in his brow betrayed his irritation. “Ah, the prodigal son,” his father drawled, setting down his pen and folding his hands neatly in front of him. “We were wondering when you’d grace us with your presence.”

“Trust me, this wasn’t my idea,” Satoru muttered, rubbing his ear as his mother finally released him. He straightened his jacket with an exaggerated sigh and flopped into the chair across from his father. 

“You’re lucky I didn’t drag you here sooner,” his mother said, slamming the door shut. She crossed her arms and went to stand beside her husband, her sharp gaze fixed on her son.

Satoru rolled his eyes. “Alright, what’s this about? I already know you’re mad about last week. Can’t we just skip to the part where you yell at me for being irresponsible and I promise to do better?”

His father didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he reached into a drawer, pulled out a folder, and slid it across the desk. “We’re not here to rehash your usual antics, Satoru. This is about something far more… shocking.”

“What’s this?”

“Open it.” His parents say in firm unison. 

Satoru frowned, his carefree demeanor wavering as he picked up the folder. He opened it lazily, but his body went rigid when his eyes landed on the photograph inside—a picture of him, arms wrapped around Koji, with you standing to the side, your expression tender, smiling. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, letting the sudden tense silence suffocate the room.

“What the hell?” Satoru whispered, his mind racing.

His mother’s voice cut through the silence like a blade. “Care to explain, Satoru?”

For once, he had nothing to say.

“I….” he gulps, fists clenching around the photograph. His jaw ticks, brows furrowing in the middle. “Where did you get this?” Satoru’s voice was low.

“We could ask you the same,” his mother snapped, her tone icy. “Who is that child, Satoru?”

Satoru doesn’t answer, instead hyper-fixating on the picture. His father didn’t wait for him to respond either. “We had to hire someone to track you down after you disappeared. Imagine our surprise when they came back with this.” He gestured to the photo. 

He looks back at his parents, meeting them with an equally deathly stare, blue eyes bouncing off one another. “You’ve been fucking spying on me?”

“You gave us no choice,” Akane responds, upset with her son’s tone. “You disappeared, we were worried, and now—” she huffs in disbelief. “Now we come to find out…this! What is this, Satoru?”

“Don’t talk about him like that.”

“I’ll do whatever I damn well please,” his mother counters. 

Her son’s eyes turn dark, and anger beginning to rise up beneath his flesh. Willing himself to calm down and not snap. He looks between his father and mother, not even sure what to say at this moment. First, he’s pissed they sent someone to watch and follow him, second, how did he not notice? And third, they know. They fucking know. He’s barely figuring shit out on his own and now his parents are involved in the mix. 

Yamato reels in a long breath, standing up from his chair. He walks out from behind his desk and stops in front of his carbon copy. “Satoru, who is that boy?”

A rhetorical question, it has to be. They just want him to admit it. They know who it is—who he is to Satoru. They’d be blind if they didn’t. Satoru gulps, biting the inside of his cheek before slowly responding. His words are hushed and careful, but filled with pride. “My son.”

Akane huffs quietly from her spot. “Oh my god.” She runs her hands through her hair, taking a seat in her husband’s chair, shaky hand fanning herself.

Neither son nor father looks at her, continuing to practically look into one another’s soul. It’s funny, he thinks. Two fathers face to face. If this was a different situation, Satoru probably would have made a snide remark about his old man looking hilarious with his wrinkly frown. The latter would then battle and say he’s not wrinkly.

But this isn't a different situation. This is a moment steeped in tension, every second thick with the weight of unspoken truths. The air feels like it's pressing down on Satoru’s chest, and the silence between them stretches unnervingly long. Yamato doesn’t break eye contact, his gaze cold, cutting through the room like a blade. "Your son," he repeats, as though testing the words in his mouth, as though the very utterance holds the power to shatter everything Satoru thought he knew about his own life.

Akane's nervous laugh breaks the heavy stillness. "I can’t even... this is just—" Her voice falters, the shock settling into a mix of disbelief and growing anger. She stands up again, pacing behind the desk, as if the movement might release the pressure building in her chest. "You’ve been hiding this? From us? All this time, Satoru?"

Satoru’s hands tighten into fists at his sides. He wants to lash out, to unleash the storm building within him, but he forces himself to stand tall, to mask the inner turmoil. His pulse is loud in his ears, the rush of blood roaring through him as his parents' words sink into him like cold nails.

But it’s Yamato’s next words that really cut deep. "You’ve been living a lie. And now it seems, so have we." Yamato’s voice is calm, but the edge is there, like a blade just under the surface, ready to slice through the fragile veneer of Satoru’s carefully constructed world.

Satoru looks down at the ground. “You guys don’t understand, I…I just found out too.”

His mother whips her head in his direction. “You what?!”

“What the hell do you mean just found out?” His father adds, in even more disbelief and confusion. 

Satoru takes a slow breath, his shoulders tense as he looks up at them, meeting their incredulous stares. His jaw tightens, and for a moment, he’s caught between the desire to explain everything and the overwhelming urge to stay silent, to protect the fragile piece of truth he’s only just begun to wrap his mind around. “I didn’t know,” he mutters, the words sounding foreign even to him. “I didn’t know I had a son. Until about a week ago. All of this… it’s new to me too.”

His parents stand still, processing the revelation, but the shock on their faces quickly shifts into something darker. Yamato’s expression tightens, a storm brewing behind his cold eyes. Akane's mouth opens and closes as if she’s trying to find the words, but none come. "You’re telling me," Yamato finally speaks, his voice low and menacing, "that you just found out about your own son? How does that make any damn sense?" His voice cracks on the last word, the authority and power he’s wielded for so many years suddenly slipping, revealing an underlying fury that Satoru has rarely seen.

Satoru looks away, his voice strained. “It wasn’t my choice.”

Akane's face flushes with anger, her hands shaking as she grips the edge of the desk. “This—this is absurd! We don’t even know this child!” Her voice rises in frustration, but Satoru isn’t looking at her anymore. His eyes are focused on the printed photograph still clutched tightly in his hand—the child that isn’t just a stranger, but a reflection of his own blood, staring back at him from that moment he hadn’t even known to be real.

Yamato steps closer, his gaze narrowing as he tries to force the puzzle pieces together. “You just found out… And yet, you're so protective of this child that you didn’t tell us as soon as you found out? What, you expect us to believe you’ve been kept in the dark all this time?”

Satoru’s fists clench, every nerve in his body screaming to either stand his ground or walk out. But this conversation—this confrontation—is unavoidable. He swallows hard, speaking through the tension in his chest. “I’m not lying,” he says, his voice firm, though his hands tremble. “I only learned the truth just recently..” The room falls silent. Yamato stands there, his expression unreadable, but there’s something shifting in his eyes. Something dangerous.

Akane walks over to snatch the picture out of Satoru’s hands, pointing to your figure. “Is this who I think it is?’

He nods without a second thought.

“Jesus Christ!” Akane throws her hands up, walking back to the desk. “I thought—since when—I thought you two broke up years ago, Satoru! She’s had your son this entire time?!”

His parents remember you—quite vividly, actually. The young, and sweet, but out of the league for their son. They remember the way you’d walk into a room, quiet but full of something they couldn’t quite put their finger on—strength hidden beneath the surface, even if you never showed it outright. They remember the way you’d smile shyly when they’d speak to you, eyes bright with a warmth they hadn’t seen in anyone in years. To them, you were everything they never imagined for their son—too sweet, too grounded, too otherworldly for someone like Satoru.

They remember the first time they met you, how you’d seemed so out of place in their world. They'd been skeptical at first, unsure of how you’d fit into the carefully curated life they’d built for their son. They knew Satoru, with all his charm and charm and reckless pursuit of every distraction, was always destined for someone like Himari, someone who could navigate the glitzy world they lived in. So of course, when they first heard of you, they were hesitant—maybe even disapproving. They advised Satoru to end things with you quickly, but their son was always stubborn and did things way. 

You came into the picture, with your quiet resilience and soft smile, and for the first time, they saw something in their son they didn’t recognize—vulnerability. Something about you brought that out of him. And that terrified them. They thought you were the kind of woman who could have his heart in a way no one else could. They didn’t know if that was a good thing or a dangerous one. Now, looking at the picture in front of them, that same woman stands on the other side of it, framed by the memories of everything that went wrong. And in the background, a child—their grandchild—who they never even knew existed.

As charming as Satoru is, you were the first girl he brought home. With this came the first time he came to his father for ideas on what girls like for their birthday, the first time they accidentally walked in on you and Satoru in a compromising position, and the first time they heard–-consoled their son after a major heartbreak. 

The first and only time, actually. 

Yamato’s voice is like ice, cold and calculating. “You finished things with her, Satoru. You let her go, and you let her leave with your son. How did you have not one clue about her pregnancy?”

Akane, still shocked, looks between her husband and son, her face pale. “You were too caught up in your own damn life to notice, weren’t you? Too busy with everything else to see the consequences of it all. I thought you were having safe sex!”

Satoru grimaces slightly, guilt twisting in his gut. “I didn’t know... I didn’t know she had him. I didn’t even know until now.”

His parents exchange a glance, their expressions unreadable. Then Akane speaks, her voice sharp and cutting. “Does it matter? Does it matter that you didn’t know? What’s worse, Satoru? That you let her get away with it, or that you didn’t even care enough to find out sooner? A responsible man makes sure nothing like this happens, especially a man of your status.” Satoru can’t answer. He can’t give them what they want to hear.

Nobody says anything for longer than Satoru finds comfortable. His father leaning against his desk and rubbing a tired hand over his greying stubble. His mother continuing her dramatics, downing some water and muttering something about how she feels faint.

Finally, Yamato speaks once more, with finality in his tone. “Bring them to us.”

Satoru, immediately on the defense, shakes his head. “No, I’m not having you two chew her out and scrutinize them. They don’t deserve that.”

“No, but what we do deserve is a solution to this…” his father wants to say mess, but with a look at his son, he decides against it. “A solution. This…this changes a lot of things, Satoru. Fuck.” He sighs.

Satoru’s chest tightens at the word “solution,” as if his father is already calculating how to fix what he sees as an inconvenience, a mistake to be swept away. His hands clench into fists, but he holds his ground, knowing this conversation is about to take a turn he’s not prepared for. “I’m not having you two tear into her or my son. They’ve been through enough.”

Yamato doesn’t flinch, and doesn’t show any sign of backing down. He only looks at his son with that same icy expression. “You think I care about how you want things, Satoru? I’m telling you, this changes everything. You’ve been playing around with your life, our lives, and now there’s a child involved. You think we’re just going to let this go?” He pauses, sighing deeply as if the weight of this situation is finally starting to sink in for him, but the resentment still lingers in his voice. “This... this situation, whatever you want to call it, has consequences. And you don’t get to hide behind her or the kid forever. This isn’t just about what you want anymore.”

Satoru’s jaw tightens. “I’m not hiding behind anyone. I’m doing what’s right, even if you don’t agree with it.”

Yamato’s eyes darken, his gaze like ice, and his voice drops lower, more calculated. “You’re not doing anything, Satoru. Not yet. You don’t have a choice anymore. This changes everything. You’re going to fix this. You’re going to fix it. You’re a grown man, the heir to my legacy, and a father now apparently, so you damn well better start acting like it.”

Akane stays silent for a moment, her eyes wide as she watches the exchange, but the tension in the room grows unbearable. Finally, she speaks, her voice quieter, yet filled with frustration and disbelief. “This... this is going to affect everything. What the hell were you thinking, Satoru?”

Satoru runs a hand through his hair, frustration bubbling up from deep within him. “I wasn’t thinking. I wasn’t aware. But I’m not going to let you two dictate how I handle this. I’m not going to let you bully her and my son into some... I don’t know... some solution that doesn’t even make sense.”

His father’s words press down on him like a vice, and for a moment, Satoru can’t breathe. It’s not just about his son, it seems—this is bigger than that. His legacy. His future. His family. It’s all crumbling, and the pressure of it all suffocates him, the walls closing in as he tries to find the right words, something to push back against this tidal wave of expectation and control. But there’s nothing. No words that can change what’s been said. Satoru clenches his jaw, his hands trembling at his sides. He’s had enough of this, of the coldness in his father’s eyes, of the way his mother’s stare cuts through him like a blade.

“Fine,” he grits out. “Sunday. I’ll tell her to meet me at my place. But the second—and I mean the very second you two start raining it down on her, on my son, I’m kicking you both the hell out. You’re right, dad. I am a grown man, I am the heir, and I am a father. So I’ll start by protecting what’s mine—my family.” The word feels a little foreign on Satoru’s tongue. But he needs to acknowledge the reality of the situation. Sure, this is still pretty much because you couldn’t man up and tell him, but now that he’s here and involved, he’ll help. In any way he can. And that starts with making sure his parents don’t treat you like shit.

“Sunday,” Yamato repeats. “Seven sharp.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

“Perfect.”

“Sure is.”

Satoru turns on his heel, heading for the door, but not before he shoots his father a final, burning glance. "And don't think for a second that I'll let you use my son as some kind of leverage in this mess. You cross that line, and there will be hell to pay."

Yamato watches him leave, his expression unreadable, but his eyes cold with something unreadable. Akane, still fanning herself, watches the exchange with a mix of disbelief and frustration, but says nothing. The air in the room thickens, a silent understanding hanging between the three of them. Satoru slams the door behind him, the force of it vibrating through the walls. As he steps into the hallway, the weight of the situation settles on him like a stone. His fingers curl into fists at his sides, his jaw set.

He'll do whatever it takes to protect you and Koji. Even if it means standing against his own parents. The idea feels strange, foreign even, but it’s the only way forward now.

This is his family.

And he’ll burn the world down to keep them safe.

Walking Koji back home from school that day, he’s chatting your ear off about the cool bugs he found on the playground that day. As you walk beside him, Koji's excitement is almost contagious. His small voice is animated, recounting every little detail about the bugs he discovered—how the ladybug was red with black spots and how he tried to catch a dragonfly but it flew away too fast. You smile softly, nodding along to his rambling, your eyes flicking down to his eager face.

“Sounds like you had a good day today, baby.”

“I did! I love school so much, Mama. Mr. Ito says I’m the smartest kid in class.”

You grimace at the mention of his teacher. You’ve luckily been able to miss him when dropping Koji off and picking him up today; but it still doesn’t deter from the fact that you’re uncomfortable that man is teaching your son, around him and many other children every day. You entertain the idea of switching schools, but you don’t think that’s possible. The other closest school is a forty-minute walk, a fifteen-minute drive. And you can’t afford that. Not to mention the tedious paperwork you’d have to go through. As long as his teacher keeps his advances in tow and doesn’t try anything funny with your son, you think you can stand seeing his face every day for a few more months until the school year ends. 

The two of you make it to the lobby of your complex before you see Mr. Sato leaning against the counter, talking with the receptionist. Your lips purse, steps faltering for a slight moment before making your way over to him. “Hello, Mr. Sato.” You visibly see him stiffen; which confuses you. “I…I’d like to discuss the money issue with you.” 

He gulps down his coffee, almost hesitantly turning to face you. “...Ms. Y/N.” The way he greets you feels even more weird. Why is he suddenly acting so scared? Weren’t you just threatening my ass a few days ago? Never mind that. You shake your head, clearing your throat. “I wanted to tell you that I don’t really…have the money right now. I know it’s an inconvenience for you and a burden on my part, but I’m willing to do whatev—”

“No need,” he cuts you off, hand waving in the air.

You stop, head tilting. Did you hear him right? “I-I’m sorry?”

“I said no need. I already got the money.”

Now you’re really confused. Brows twitching as a wave of cautiousness passes over you. Is he tricking you? What the hell do you mean you got the money? “You…what? But, how? I didn’t….”

“Your husband paid it yesterday.”

“What?! I don’t have a husband.”

“Oh,” Mr. Sato tilts his head, looking down at Koji. “well, his father. He paid it yesterday.”

It’s like a bucket of ice cold water is dumped over you. Huffing out in disbelief, confusion, and annoyance. “Wait, wait. He…paid it? All of it…?”

Mr. Sato nods, then shifts on his feet. “And then some, I’ve applied it to next month, so you don’t have to worry about that..”

A knot forms in your stomach. You can’t process it. Why would Satoru do that? The money, the rent, the fact that he paid it all without saying a word. Without asking you first. You’re supposed to be handling this on your own, not relying on him to bail you out. But the reality of it settles in, cold and heavy. He knows you’re struggling–-pretty damn badly too. Your heart races, a strange mix of emotions stirring within you—confusion, anger, humiliation. "I didn’t ask him to do that," you mutter, your hands trembling slightly as you try to steady your thoughts. Is he going to confront you about this too now? Say how horrible of a mother you are that you can’t keep a shitty apartment? Is he building up reasons to take Koji?

Mr. Sato shrugs, then turns away from you once more. "Doesn’t matter. It’s done. He seemed pretty intent on making sure everything was covered for you.”

You don’t know how to respond to that. The idea of Satoru swooping in like some kind of white knight, fixing things without a word, twists something deep inside you. Why? The simple question hangs there, unanswered, heavy in the air between you. You glance down at Koji, who’s still holding your hand, oblivious to the tension building between you and Mr. Sato. “Thanks, I guess,” you say, your voice distant, almost hollow. It feels like the only thing you can say, even if it doesn’t feel like enough.

Mr. Sato offers a quick nod. “No problem.” 

As you and Koji walk away, your mind races, the question lingering in the air: What does Satoru want from all this? And more importantly, why the hell didn’t he tell you? It feels strange and almost invasive to have him literally pay your rent for you. Does he think he can just come in and save the day? Does he think I need him that bad? Why didn’t he tell me?

It feels like a violation, in a way. Like he’s come in and taken control of something that was supposed to be your responsibility. It’s hard to swallow. The pride you’ve worked so hard to hold onto, the independence you’ve clung to, feels shattered with just a few actions and no explanation–-and with such little ease. As you walk into your apartment, you feel the weight of his decisions hanging over you like a dark cloud. Why couldn’t he just let you handle things? You’re blatantly reminded of just how different you two are, of how much better he can provide for Koji than you can.

The problem isn’t just about the rent. It’s about him stepping in without a word, without so much as a “Do you need help?” Does he think I can’t do this on my own? You feel a sting in your chest, like a raw nerve exposed, and the overwhelming urge to scream at the world for being so damn complicated. Koji’s chatter fades into the background as you make it to the door, choosing to sit down on the couch, and pulling your knees up to your chest. What now? You’ve never asked for help from Satoru before, and now it feels like he’s swooped in and taken control, expecting gratitude in return. But how do you even thank someone who’s come in, solved your problems without asking, and left you feeling like you were never meant to stand on your own? What’s he trying to prove? You don’t know if you’re angry at him for doing something you couldn’t or angry at yourself for feeling so vulnerable, like a little piece of you just slipped away. The worst part is that you don't know how to feel about it all.

Thankful?

Happy?

Annoyed?

Angered?

Which of those is valid enough for this situation? 

The minute you’re on break at your second job, you pull out your phone and call the devil himself.

He picks up a ring later.

“Hel—”

“What are you doing?”

There’s a pause. “Um…in the office?”

“No, you idiot. I mean what the hell do you think you’re trying to prove here?”

“...that I’m a good worker?”

Jesus, could he be even more stupid? “You paid my rent for me?”

There’s a beat of silence on the other end, and you can almost hear him thinking, trying to figure out how to spin this. "Yeah, I did," he finally admits, and there's no apology in his voice, just plain confession.

"Why?" The question comes out sharper than you intended, a mixture of frustration and confusion. "Why would you do that without saying anything? Do you think I need your help? Is that it? Just swoop in like a damn knight in shining armor?"

He doesn't immediately respond, and you’re almost certain he’s frowning on the other end. Finally, his voice breaks through the tension. "Listen," he starts, a little too casual for your liking. "I really don’t understand why you’re angry about this, okay? Your landlord came over when you were at work and said you needed four thousand dollars. I just didn’t want you to worry about it, and I didn’t want Koji to see you stress over something like that. It’s not a big deal, it’s handled."

You roll your eyes, the anger simmering beneath the surface. "You don't get it, Satoru. This isn't about whether or not I’m stressing or angered over it. It's about you barging in and making decisions for me, like I can’t handle my own life."

His sigh comes through loud and clear, like he’s just too tired to deal with you right now. "I didn’t make the decision for you, I just—"

"—Paid my rent without asking? You don’t get to play the ‘I’m just helping’ card here! You could’ve at least talked to me first. Why didn’t you tell me? Why hide it from me?"

There’s a shift in his tone, like he’s getting a bit more fed up as the conversation continues. "I didn’t think it was necessary. You’ve been so damn silent about everything. I don’t know if it’s pride or what. But I get it—believe me, I do. But sometimes, pride gets in the way of... I don’t know, survival?"

"Survival?" You nearly choke on the word, incredulous. "Is that what you think this is? Some kind of game to you? You think I can’t survive on my own?"

The silence stretches between you two, thick with unspoken things. You can almost hear the wheels turning in his head, and then, after what feels like an eternity, he speaks. "Look, I did what I did because I wanted to," he says quietly, the weight of the words heavier than anything he’s said so far. "But if you’re angry about it, then...I won’t do it again. It wasn’t meant to make you feel like... like you can’t handle things. I just thought, maybe it’d be one less thing for you to worry about."

You’re quiet for a long moment, still processing his words, the mixture of emotions swirling in your chest. "You’ve got a funny way of showing care, Satoru," you mutter, and there's a bitter laugh on the other end of the phone.

"Yeah, I know," he admits, voice tinged with regret. "I don’t always get it right." A small, reluctant part of you softens at the sound of his sincerity, but the rest of you remains hard, unresolved. You take a deep breath, trying to steady your thoughts. "You just—you have to tell me in advance about these things. This is a big deal to me.”

He nods, though you can’t see it. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to make you feel inferior, I promise.”

You close your eyes, letting out a heavy sigh. "Just... don’t do it again."

He’s quiet for a moment, and then—"Alright, alright. I’ll back off, Y/N. But you will tell me next time if you need help, understood?"

You bite your lip, trying to suppress the unexpected, but familiar warmth spread through you at his words. "Understood," you mutter, rolling your eyes again even as you can feel the beginnings of a reluctant smile tugging at your lips.

It’s a mess. But at least he’s trying. At least you are.

You’re about to say your goodbye when he stops you. “Hey, um…so I was actually going to call you too.”

“Oh,” you reply, leaning your back against the wall. “Okay well, did you need something?’

“Yeah, I need to tell you something.”

“Okay.”

He pauses again, mulling over how to exactly give this to you easily. “So…my parents found out. About Koji.”

You don’t say anything. The words hang in the air between you, and you feel a chill run down your spine. Your heart skips a beat, and for a moment, you wonder if he’s joking. But the seriousness in his voice tells you that this is no joke.

His parents found out.

You push yourself off the wall, your hand instinctively curling into a fist at your side. "What do you mean, found out? How? When?"

He lets out a long, heavy sigh. "They’ve had someone watching me for a while now because I haven’t been to the office. Apparently, the guy showed them a picture of me with Koji and you, and they…yeah."

The words leave a bitter taste in your mouth. "Great," you mutter, voice tinged with disbelief. "So now they know. What, are they gonna show up at my door and demand answers too?" 

There’s an uncomfortable pause on the other end of the line before Satoru responds, his voice tight. "It’s not like that. They won’t do anything... yet. But they want to meet Koji, see him, and... they want to talk to you. They’ve got a lot of questions."

Your chest tightens. You feel the weight of the situation pressing down on you. Talk to me? "I’m not doing this. I’m not putting my son through that," you snap, your tone colder than you intended. "Why would they even want to meet him? He’s not some... pawn in their game."

"I know," Satoru says quickly, almost like he’s trying to reassure you. "But they’re my parents, and they’ve always been controlling. They think they have a right to know him, to know everything. I’m just telling you because I didn’t want you to be blindsided."

You take a slow, steadying breath, trying to push down the rising anger and panic that’s swirling inside you. This is bad. This is really bad.

"They want to see us?" you ask, your voice quieter now, more composed.

"They do" he answers reluctantly. "But you don’t have to. It’s your choice, okay? You don’t have to see them again if you’re not ready."

You close your eyes, your mind racing through the possibilities. You didn’t want this—didn’t want your life tangled up in his family’s politics and power games. But now, it feels like there’s no escaping it. "I’ll think about it," you say, voice soft but firm.

"Take your time," he replies, his tone gentler now. "Just know that... I’ll be there, no matter what you decide."

A part of you wants to believe him, wants to trust that he’s not just playing at being the hero. But another part of you is cautious, knowing the situation is far from simple." Okay," you finally say, the word heavy on your lips. "When did they wanna see us?"

“Sunday. At seven, my place.”

“Fuck,” you heavily breathe out, using your hand to sift through your hair. “That’s…that’s really soon, Satoru.”

“I know, I’m sorry. They just told me all this today.”

You bite your lip, conflicted. You know it is an inevitable thing to see his parents again. But it’s been so long and times have most definitely changed. You’re not sure if you’re exactly ready for that. But would you only be prolonging this? 

“Just let me know by tomorrow—preferably,” Satoru adds.

“...okay. Yeah.”

“Okay.” 

There’s an awkward gap between you two. Not sure if you should keep this conversation going. It almost feels like your first time calling each other. The silence stretches between you both, thick and uncomfortable. You can almost hear the uncertainty in his breath on the other end of the line, as though he’s unsure what to say next, or perhaps he's waiting for you to take the lead. You want to say something, anything, but the words feel stuck in your throat. There’s so much you could say, but none of it feels right. You’re not sure what he expects from you, or what you expect from him. Finally, you break the silence, your voice quieter than usual. “I’ll think about it. But...this isn’t just something I can decide on a whim.”

“I know,” Satoru responds, his tone more serious now. “I’m not rushing you. I just... I just want to make sure you’re okay with everything.”

You exhale sharply, not sure if that reassures you or not. The weight of the situation feels heavier now, but there’s still a part of you that wants to believe he’s being genuine. That he’s trying to do the right thing, even though you know deep down that the stakes are much higher than just making it through a conversation with his parents. “Right,” you reply, your tone quieter, more resigned. “I’ll... I’ll let you know tomorrow.”

“Take care,” he says, the words soft but weighted with meaning.

"Yeah. You too," you mutter before ending the call, the finality of it leaving a lingering tension in the air.

As you slide your phone back into your pocket, you let out a long breath, trying to calm the storm of thoughts swirling in your mind. You're not sure what to expect anymore, not from Satoru, not from his family, and certainly not from yourself. But one thing is certain: this is only the beginning, and you wonder if you’re ready for what comes next. All you know is that you have to protect Koji at all costs. And now, it seems, you have to face the consequences of Satoru’s family knowing the truth.

The next day is bright and sunny, contrasting with the chill of the wind that threatens to break your skin out in goosebumps if it weren’t for your thick layers. Snowfall is supposed to begin soon, Koji told you after learning it in school. He’s excited, which makes you happy to see. He’s always loved snow, you’d make snowmen, throw snowballs, and make snow angels. You have many pictures stored in your phone of him with the white mess of cushion around him, or him holding a snowflake, anything. You take a lot of pictures of your son, mundane or not. Memories you’ll forever cherish so you can look back on them when he’s older.

Walking through town with your little boy for a little day out. The money you were saving up for the rent is now being put to use for some sweet treats and little action figures. The sound of Koji’s laughter fills the crisp air as he hops excitedly from one foot to the other, clutching the small action figures of Spiderman and Ironman in his hands, his cheeks flushed from the cold. His excitement is contagious, and for a moment, the worries of yesterday feel distant, pushed away by the simple joy of spending time with him.

You pass by a few familiar shops, your eyes catching on window displays that seem to taunt you with their prices. You shake your head, a soft chuckle escaping your lips as Koji pulls you towards a small toy store. The lights in the window sparkle with the holiday season, and for a brief moment, it feels like you could stay in this little bubble, far removed from everything else—Satoru, his parents, and the looming uncertainty about what comes next. But even as Koji chatters away beside you, excitedly telling you about the toys he's picked out, the weight of your situation still lingers in the back of your mind. You glance down at your son, trying to focus on the here and now. You’re doing this for him. He deserves moments like these—moments where life feels simple, filled with nothing but happiness and warmth.

“Mom, look!” Koji pulls your attention, his face beaming as he holds up a small snow globe he found in the shop window. The glittering snowflakes inside the glass swirl around, and you can see the way his eyes light up. “Can we get it?”

You smile, reaching down to gently ruffle his hair. “Of course, we can.” As you walk into the store, the bell above the door jingles, and for a second, it feels like you’re stepping into another world. It’s warm, the smell of cinnamon and vanilla filling the air, and it’s so different from the cold outside. For a brief moment, everything feels manageable. Just you and Koji, making memories.

But then, the thought of the phone call from Satoru yesterday creeps back into your mind. You promised you’d think about it, but now, with Koji so happy beside you, you wonder: Can you really keep up this facade? Can you keep pretending like everything is okay when you're not sure where any of this is headed? You shake your head, trying to push those thoughts aside for the time being. Right now, there’s only Koji, only the two of you enjoying a quiet moment of peace in a world that feels anything but peaceful. 

“Let’s get that snow globe,” you say softly, even though you know it’s a small treat in the grand scheme of things. But maybe that’s all you can give him for now. Small moments of happiness.

After your purchases, you two make your way to a stand selling hot chocolate. A delicacy that your boy absolutely loves. As you’re paying for the small drink, opting to share with Koji, a familiar voice catches your ears. You turn to look in the direction of the loud voice.

“Thank you all for coming out today, I know it’s a little chilly. But we’re having many fun activities planned, with prizes. Who’s excited?”

The small crowd whoops in agreeance. 

With interest, you’re guiding Koji over to the voice, tilting your neck up. You see Suguru standing with a microphone in hand, smiling kindly. The tip of his nose is tinted red, adorning a shirt that says, "Building futures, one child at a time." You recognize it as the slogan on his business card that he gave you. 

It’s been a while since you last spoke to him or saw him, the last thing you remembered was him finding out your personal information while you were broken up with Satoru all these years. A frown pulls at your lips, but it’s hard to keep it up when young children rush up to him. Shouting “Mr. Geto!”

You’ve always known Suguru was very good with children, but seeing him now in his element feels wholesome. Cute, you think.

“Mama, that’s your friend. Do we go say hi?” Koji asks, sipping his drink.

For a second, you hesitate. Fearing it’ll be awkward, but you decide it wouldn’t hurt. So, with a nod, you two are walking through the crowd and to Suguru. 

As you make your way through the crowd, you notice Suguru’s easy interaction with the kids. They surround him, tugging at his sleeves and laughing as he kneels to their height, his smile never faltering. The sight of him in his element makes you feel a strange mixture of warmth and hesitation. He’s clearly a natural with kids, and it’s hard not to admire how comfortable he seems, especially after all the tension that has hung between the two of you.

When you finally reach him, Suguru notices. His eyes widen slightly before he straightens up. A soft smile forms on his face, and he straightens his shirt with a little chuckle. "Well, look who decided to show up." he says, his tone light and friendly, almost as if there’s no time at all between now and the last time you spoke. “Hi, Koji,” he greets, his voice warm as he crouches down to your son’s level, who’s holding a drink in both hands and looking up at Suguru with wide eyes.

"Hi," Koji replies enthusiastically, his eyes bright. “What are you doing here today?”

Suguru laughs, his gaze flicking back to you for a brief moment before he answers. “I try to help however I can. It’s all about giving back to the community, especially for kids like you, Koji. You’re the future.” He winks at your son, causing him to giggle and squirm a little from the attention.

You can’t help but smile at the interaction, but the knot in your stomach tightens. It’s hard to shake off the awkwardness of your previous encounters with Suguru. You’re not sure what to say now, especially since Koji is so at ease with him. Suguru shifts his attention to you, his expression gentle but knowing. "How’ve you been? It’s been a while, hasn’t it?" His tone isn’t pressing, just an easy question, though you sense the unspoken weight behind it.

You nod, still caught in the familiarity of his presence, but unsure of how much to reveal. "Yeah, it’s been a while." You pause, taking a breath before adding, “So, what’s all this?”

“Fundraiser, we hold one every month,” Suguru explains with a warm smile, his voice carrying an easy confidence. “We do one every month. All the proceeds go to local programs for kids. Things like scholarships, school supplies, and community events. It's a way to give back, especially to kids who might not have access to these kinds of opportunities otherwise."

You take in his words, surprised by how much he’s dedicated to this cause. "I didn't realize you were this involved," you admit, watching as more children approach Suguru, clearly looking up to him.

“Yeah," Suguru chuckles, glancing at the growing crowd. "I really believe in it. This is what I want to do with my life now, and it’s been a rewarding journey. Kids are the future, you know? It's just about giving them the right tools to grow."

You can’t help but be impressed. Suguru always had ambition, but hearing him speak so passionately about his work hits differently now. There’s a quiet weight to his words, as if he’s found his purpose. “You've come a long way,” you say, not able to hide the slight smile tugging at your lips. "I'm glad to see you're doing something meaningful."

Suguru waves it off, his smile a little sheepish. "It’s really the kids who make it fun. I’m just happy I can help make something like this happen." There’s a brief pause between you two, the familiar tension that used to hang in the air now replaced by a quieter, unspoken understanding.

Suguru looks at you. “But, thank you, Y/N. It feels good. And it’s nice to see someone who remembers where I started." The familiarity of the moment hangs in the air between you, the unspoken history still lingering. You remember the time when things were simpler, before everything became complicated and messy. Suguru was always someone you could rely on, someone who was easy to talk to.

Koji pulls on your sleeve, his voice bright. "Mom, can I play the game over there?" You glance over at the game booth he’s pointing to, noticing it’s one of those dart-throwing games. You’re about to nod, but Suguru cuts in. 

"Let me give you both some tickets," he says, already reaching into his pocket. "For the games. My treat." You’re about to protest, but Suguru’s gaze stops you. “Really, it’s no problem. It’s the least I can do after everything.”

You swallow the retort on your tongue, a mix of gratitude and reluctance bubbling inside you. “Alright, thanks,” you say quietly. He hands you the tickets with a smile, his demeanor still easygoing.

As you two are walking, watching Koji play games, he decides now’s the time to actually talk. “Y/N, I’m sorry about—”

“You don’t need to apologize again,” you cut him off, putting your hands in your coat pockets. “I heard you, so don’t worry.”

He purses his lips. “Are you sure? I mean, I understand if you’re still put off, I would be too.”

You watch Koji and go silent for a moment. His words lingering in your mind before you switch the subject. “Did Satoru tell you I spoke with him?”

“Oh, yeah,” he scratches at his head. “How was it? I heard it from his perspective, but what about yours?”

“Could’ve been better, could’ve been worse.” Suguru nods, not wanting to pry anymore. Your vague answers are enough. “His parents found out too.”

“What?” he asks in bewilderment. “T-They did? How? What did they say?”

“Satoru said they sent someone to watch him because he was missing from work for a while. They weren’t very happy, and they want to see Koji and me tomorrow.”

“Shit,” Suguru shakes his head. “Are you going to?”

“I feel like I have no choice but to. It’s not like I can avoid this forever.”

“You always have a choice, Y/N.”

You glance at him, his words catching you off guard. “Do I, though? They’re his family, Suguru. And like it or not, Koji deserves to know where he comes from.”

“I get that,” he says, crossing his arms, his expression thoughtful. “But just because they’re family doesn’t mean they automatically get to dictate everything. You have a say in this too. Don’t let them push you around.”

You nod, appreciating his words but still feeling the overwhelming pressure of the situation. “I’ll try. I just...I don’t want to make things harder for Koji.”

Suguru places a comforting hand on your shoulder. “You won’t. You’re his mom. As long as you’re looking out for him, you’re doing what’s right.”

His reassurance is a small comfort in the sea of uncertainty you’re swimming in. You give him a faint smile, grateful for his support. “Thanks, Suguru.”

“Anytime,” he replies, his voice soft but genuine. “And if you need backup, you know where to find me.”

You laugh lightly, the tension in your chest easing for just a moment. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Walking home after that day out, putting Koji to take a nap, cleaning up a bit, you send Satoru a text. 

“We’ll come. Send me your address.”

You arrive to Satoru’s penthouse with Koji in tow thirty minutes early. Koji was wowing the entire train ride here, even now as he looks up at the large and tall building before him, his eyes are wide with child-like amusement. A part of you feels bad that he’s getting this excited over buildings and nice lights, but hey, you would be too if all you were accustomed to was the other side of town. 

The two of you step out of the cab, Koji’s small hand in yours. It practically glows under the evening sky, reflecting the city lights like something out of a movie. Koji’s awe is palpable, his mouth slightly open as he marvels at the sheer size of the structure. “Mama,” he tugs on your hand, his eyes not leaving the building. “Do people actually live in places like this? Like...all the time?”

You chuckle softly, though there’s a slight pang in your chest. “Yeah, Koji. Some people do.”

“It’s so cool,” he breathes, craning his neck as far as it can go. “Do they have their own rooms? And toys? And candy?”

“Probably,” you say with a light laugh, gently guiding him toward the entrance. “But don’t get too excited, okay? We’re just here to visit.”

As you step inside, the pristine marble floors and sleek, modern design hit you instantly. The lobby is massive, with floor-to-ceiling windows and expensive-looking furniture scattered about. Even the air feels different—cleaner, cooler, like it’s filtered or something. A well-dressed doorman greets you with a polite nod, and you awkwardly return it, not quite sure how to act in a place this fancy. Koji, however, is too busy looking around, his eyes darting from the chandelier to the grand piano in the corner. “Mama, look! That’s a real piano! Like the one on TV!”

“Yeah, I see it,” you murmur, trying to stay focused. The feeling of being out of place creeps up on you, but you push it aside. This isn’t about you—it’s about Koji. When you reach the elevator, you press the button for the top floor, and the doors slide open with a soft chime. Stepping inside, Koji bounces on his heels, still brimming with excitement. “Do you think it’s like the movies where the elevator talks?” he asks, his voice full of wonder.

You smile, ruffling his hair. “We’ll see, bud.” The elevator glides upward so smoothly that you barely feel it moving. Koji’s little gasp of excitement when the numbers light up makes you chuckle again, though your stomach tightens as you near the top. You realize Satoru’s space is on the highest floor. Thirty seconds later, the doors open to reveal a sleek, private hallway with only one door at the end. “This is it, Koji,” you say, taking a deep breath as you step out of the elevator. “Are you ready?”

Koji nods enthusiastically, gripping your hand tighter. “Ready!”

You walk toward the door, your heels clicking softly against the polished floor. It feels heavier with every step, but you keep moving forward. Reaching the door, you hesitate for a moment, then press the doorbell. A moment later, the door swings open to reveal Satoru, looking as casual as ever—with a hint of nervousness in a loose sweater and jeans. His bright blue eyes light up when he sees Koji. “Hey, you two made it.” he says, stepping aside to let you in. “Come on in. Koji, welcome to my place.”

Koji’s jaw drops as he takes in the massive living room with its floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. “This is your house?!”

Satoru grins, picking him up. “Sure is, kiddo. What do you think?”

Koji looks up at you with wide eyes. “Mama, this is way cooler than the buildings outside!”

You laugh nervously, squeezing Koji’s hand. “Yeah, it’s...something.”

Satoru walks around his place, watching the two of you with a small smile. “Make yourselves comfortable. And hey, I promise this’ll go smoother than you think.”

“You’re saying that now,” you mutter with a grimace.

“C’mon, just trust me. I’m here.”

The phrase causes you to clear your throat awkwardly, a sudden memory hitting you—one you push down quickly. “Yeah, thanks.”

“Want some water? Juice?”

“No juice for him, he had a candy on the way here.” 

“But Mamaaaaaa,” Koji whines, dragging out his words. “Please, I want some of Papa’s juice.”

“I have all kinds of juice, little man. Red juice, pink juice, green juice.”

“Green?!”

“Mhm.” 

“I wan—”

“Satoru.” You say, firmness in your voice. Arms crossing. “I said no juice.”

Satoru’s smile falters as he registers your intonation, his eyes flicking to yours like he’s trying to decipher something. The room feels heavier suddenly, like the air between you is crackling with something unspoken. “Alright,” he says softly, straightening up. “No juice. Got it.” The tone of his response catches you off guard, almost making you feel like you’d scolded him instead of your son. You shift uncomfortably, glancing at Koji, who’s now frowning. Satoru sets him down, to which he gets easily distracted by the shiny skyscrapers outside, rushing over to the large floor to ceiling windows. 

Satoru steps back, running a hand through his hair. “I was just trying to—” He stops himself, shaking his head with a dry laugh. “Never mind.”

You exhale, feeling a pang of guilt but unsure why. “It’s not... Look, I didn’t mean—”

“It’s fine,” he cuts in, his tone lighter but his eyes saying something else. “You’re right. Mama’s rules. I’ll stick to them.”

There’s an awkward pause, and you find yourself staring at him, searching his face for... what, exactly? He catches you looking, and for a brief, jarring moment, you’re back in a place you swore you’d moved on from—a place where his charm felt like safety and his presence could undo you. Your stomach is already feeling warm. You snap out of it quickly, clearing your throat. “Thanks. For understanding.”

Satoru tilts his head slightly, his gaze lingering. “Always.”

It feels like a strange promise, one that hangs in the air too long before Koji interrupts, shouting, “Mama! Look, it’s snowing!”

The tension breaks, and you turn to the window, grateful for the distraction. “Wow, it is,” you say, forcing a smile.

Behind you, Satoru’s voice is quiet but pointed. “Snow’s always a fresh start, right?”

You don’t respond, unsure if he’s talking about the weather—or the two of you. Focusing on the snowfall, Satoru takes this moment to side-glance at you. He almost curses himself for wanting to comment on how pretty you look. Not now. But for some reason, his hand is inching up as it it’s about to move a strand of hair out your eye, until you look at him. “Can I use your bathroom?”

He coughs out, quickly bringing his hand to his nose and wiping at it. Real smooth, Satoru. “Yeah, sure. Down this hall to your right.”

“Thank you.”

“Mhm,” he can’t resist watching you leave, eyes moving down to your ass. His stare lingers even when you’re out of sight. The sound of Koji’s voice bringing him back down to Earth.

“Why do you stare at Mama like that?”

“What? I’m not staring.”

“Yes, you are.”

“I’m not.”

“Why are you lying, Papa?”

“Kid…”

“But it’s normal, right? You and Mama are married.”

God, his innocence is too sweet for Satoru. How exactly can his explain your relationship to the young boy? Not now at least and especially not without you. Hopefully when his son learns the truth one day, he won’t grow to somehow resent him. Or you. Satoru’s throat tightens at Koji’s words. The boy's wide, trusting eyes make the situation ten times harder than it already is. He rubs the back of his neck, trying to think of a response that won’t shatter Koji’s innocence or dig himself into a deeper hole. “Well, uh…” he starts, stalling. “Sometimes grown-ups have… complicated relationships.”

Koji tilts his head, frowning in confusion. “What’s complicated mean?”

Satoru lets out a nervous laugh, ruffling Koji’s hair. “It means… not everything is simple, kiddo. Like math problems that don’t make sense at first.”

Koji wrinkles his nose. “I don’t like math.”

“Exactly,” Satoru says with a relieved grin. “Neither do I. Let’s stick to the fun stuff, okay?”

“Okay, they’re here.”

You take in a deep breath, holding Koji closer to your chest as he sits on your lap. Satoru’s dining room chairs feel too stiff for a situation like this. He’s standing—pacing, and checking his phone constantly after his mother just texted him they were coming up. The tension in the air is suffocating. You grip Koji just a little tighter, your fingers absentmindedly brushing over his soft hair as a way to ground yourself. The stiffness of the chair beneath you feels like punishment, but maybe it’s just nerves crawling into every corner of your body.

Across the room, Satoru paces like a man trying to walk off a bad decision. His long legs carry him back and forth in front of the large windows, the city lights behind him casting an almost surreal glow. He checks his phone again, the screen lighting up briefly before he shoves it into his pocket with a frustrated sigh. You bite your lip, trying not to snap. “You pacing like that isn’t helping.”

He stops mid-step, glancing at you with a mixture of guilt and irritation. “You think I don’t know that? They texted ‘coming up’ five minutes ago. How long does it take to ride an elevator?”

You arch a brow. “You live on the thirty-fourth floor.”

He huffs, dragging a hand through his hair. “Doesn’t change the fact that this feels like the longest elevator ride in history.”

Koji, oblivious to the storm brewing between the adults, tilts his head up at you. “Mama, why are you squishing me?”

“Oh,” you blink, loosening your grip immediately. “Sorry, baby.”

Koji giggles, wiggling to get more comfortable. “It’s okay. Papa’s the one acting funny.”

You glance at Satoru, who’s resumed pacing, his jaw tight. “Yeah,” you mutter, half to yourself. “He’s definitely acting funny.” Before either of you can say more, there’s a sharp knock at the door. It’s like the room collectively holds its breath. Koji perks up curiously, his innocent smile the only light in this tense moment.

Satoru freezes, staring at the door as if it might explode. “Okay,” he murmurs, more to himself than anyone else. “Here we go.”

He crosses the room in a few long strides, his hand hovering over the doorknob for a split second before he pulls it open. And there they are. His parents, Yamato and Akane Gojo, standing like an imposing force just outside the threshold. Yamato is tall and sharp-eyed, his tailored suit as immaculate as his demeanor. Akane, with her perfectly styled hair and the kind of elegance that demands attention, steps in with an unreadable expression. For a moment, the room feels even smaller. Their eyes sweep over you and Koji, pausing on the boy who’s now hiding his face in your shoulder.

“Hello,” Akane says, her voice smooth but laced with something unplaceable. “I believe we have a lot to discuss.”

You gulp and nod as they come closer, Satoru closing the door and quickly making his way to sit beside you. “Nice to see you two again.” The phrase feels hollow and fake on your tongue, but what exactly should you say to them?

Yamato hums as he and his wife sit across from you and Satoru. Their eyes instantly landing on Koji who regards them with a nervous, child-like expression. “This is the boy.”

“Yes,” Satoru answers. “Koji.” 

Yamato’s gaze lingers on Koji, sharp and calculating, as though he’s analyzing every detail of the child. Koji squirms slightly under the weight of the attention, pressing closer to you. You instinctively wrap an arm around him, protective. Akane's expression softens just a touch, but it’s subtle—barely enough to ease the tension in the room. “He looks like you, Satoru,” she comments, her voice light but with an underlying edge.

Satoru shifts beside you, his posture stiff. “Yeah, well… genetics and all.”

You glance at him, suppressing an eyeroll. Now’s not the time for his half-hearted attempts at humor. Yamato finally speaks, his voice low and measured. “And how long has this been… a secret?”

The question feels like a slap, even though you were expecting it. You glance down at Koji, unsure of how much to say in front of him. Satoru clears his throat, leaning forward slightly. “Look, I didn’t find out about Koji until recently,” he admits, his tone surprisingly steady. “And as soon as I did, I took responsibility. That’s why we’re here now.”

Yamato’s eyes flick to you, cold and questioning. “And you? Why keep this from him?”

You feel your heart drop, but you refuse to let their judgment pin you down. “I had my reasons,” you say, your voice firm despite the way your palms are sweating. “It wasn’t an easy decision, but I did what I thought was best for my son.”

“And best for Satoru?” Akane interjects, her tone calm but pointed.

You hesitate, unsure how to answer without sounding defensive. Before you can respond, Satoru leans back, his arms crossed. “Enough,” he says, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. “This isn’t about blame. It’s about Koji. He’s here now, and I want him to be part of my life. That’s all that matters.”

Yamato studies him for a long moment, then shifts her gaze back to Koji. “What about the boy? Does he even know who we are?”

Koji glances up at you, his small fingers clutching your sleeve. “Mama?” he whispers.

You force a smile, brushing a hand through his hair. “It’s okay, baby. These are… your grandparents.”

Koji’s eyes widen, curiosity replacing some of his nervousness. “Grandparents? Like in the stories?”

Satoru can’t help but chuckle softly, breaking some of the tension. “Yeah, kid. Like in the stories.”

For a moment, the room feels lighter, but Yamato’s expression doesn’t waver. “Then we’ll need to decide what role we play in his story,” he says firmly, his eyes narrowing. Your stomach twists, and Satoru’s jaw tightens. This conversation is far from over.

Satoru leans forward, his hands clasped on the table, tension rolling off him. “You don’t get to ‘decide’ anything, Dad. Koji is my son, and I’ll handle how he fits into this family.”

Yamato’s lips press into a thin line, his gaze hardening. “You think this is just about you, Satoru? This affects all of us—the Gojo name, our reputation. Your actions have consequences, and it’s my job to ensure they don’t spiral out of control.”

You bristle at his tone, your arm tightening around Koji. “Koji is not some ‘consequence,’ Mr. Gojo. He’s a child. Your grandson. Maybe you should start there instead of worrying about appearances.”

Akane's gaze flickers between you and her husband, her expression unreadable. “Yamato,” she says softly, placing a hand on his arm. “Let’s not lose sight of what’s important here.” Yamato exhales sharply, but he doesn’t respond, his eyes still locked on Satoru.

“Look,” Satoru says, his voice lowering. “I get it. This isn’t ideal for you. But Koji is here, and I’m not going to let him feel like he’s some kind of mistake. He’s part of this family whether you like it or not.”

There’s a pause, heavy and suffocating, before Akane finally speaks. “He’s very handsome,” she says, her tone softer now. “I see the resemblance to you, Satoru. But I also see… her.” She glances at you, and for the first time, her expression isn’t cold. However, that doesn’t mean there’s complete acceptance there. She looks down at her lap with a sigh. “If only it was someone of higher class.”

You and Satoru equally clench your jaw, eyes narrowing.

Koji looks up at you, then at Satoru. “Papa, what’s a ‘rep-…repu-shun’?”

Satoru chuckles despite himself. “It’s something adults worry about too much, buddy. Don’t worry about it.”

Yamato’s lips twitch as if he’s holding back a retort, but Akane cuts in before he can speak. “Koji,” she says gently, leaning slightly forward. “Do you like sweets?”

Koji nods, his nervousness giving way to excitement. “Yes! I like cookies and cake and green juice!”

Kaede smiles faintly. “Maybe next time you visit, I can make some cookies for you. Would you like that?”

Koji’s face lights up, and he nods enthusiastically. “Yes, please!”

You’re caught off guard by the gesture, but you stay silent, observing the interaction. First she bashes your status and now she’s trying to be the sweet grandma. Satoru shifts beside you, his hand brushing against yours briefly. It’s so subtle you almost miss it, but the warmth lingers, grounding you. You could’ve sworn he lets it linger there purposely. 

Yamato clears his throat, “You understand your role as heir, yes, Satoru? Having children of your own to pass the legacy down to,” he says, his tone clipped.

You purse your lips. “I don’t want my son being involved in something he doesn’t have to.”

“This isn’t a choice,” Akane responds. “Although this situation is less than savory, and although we woul’ve much preferred a…different candiate. This is the reality, so your father and I have made arranagemnts.”

“You’re not doing anything without telling Y/N or I first. This is our son.” Satoru firmly says.

Yamato cuts in. “Listen, Satoru. This is just how it is. When he grows older, it’s up to you to teach him and pass things down. As of now, no one will know. Not the public, the company, investors, nobody. Until we, ourselves, have a better hold on things, this will stay under wraps.”

Your stomach twists as the weight of their words sinks in. Their calculated demeanor, their cold insistence—it’s everything you despised about this family’s way of thinking. Koji isn’t just some pawn in their grand scheme; he’s your child. “Under wraps?” you snap, unable to hold back. “What does that even mean? You expect us to keep Koji’s existence a secret like he’s some kind of dirty little secret? That’s not what I want for my son, I want him to have a normal and innocent childhood.”

Akane's expression barely falters. “This is for his protection, as well as the family’s reputation. The world can be… cruel, especially when it comes to matters like this. It’s better to control the narrative than let it control us.”

Satoru scoffs, crossing his arms. “Control the narrative? He’s five, Mom. He doesn’t need a narrative. He needs parents who care about him, not a PR strategy.”

Yamato pinches the bridge of his nose. “This isn’t up for debate, Satoru. You’re the heir. Koji is your responsibility, but he’s also ours. You don’t understand what’s at stake here.”

“I understand just fine,” Satoru fires back, his voice rising. “You want to shove him into your world of deals and power plays without even thinking about what’s best for him. I’m not letting that happen.” You glance at Satoru, momentarily caught off guard by his unwavering stance. It’s rare to see him so serious, so resolute. For a moment, it feels like you’re on the same page, like you’re fighting together.

Yamato sighs, his patience clearly thinning. “We’re not trying to take him away from you. But this family operates a certain way, and if you’re unwilling to cooperate—”

“I’m unwilling,” you cut in sharply, surprising even yourself. “Koji isn’t going to grow up like this. He’s not going to be molded into some heir, forced to carry on legacies he didn’t ask for. He’s going to be a kid, my kid, and that’s all. If the time comes when he’s old enough to make that decision, then so be it. But right now…we are making it.” Satoru looks at you, a look of almost tender reliance in his face. He can’t help but scooch closer to you in his chair, the back of his knuckles grazing your thigh as he focuses back on his parents. You don’t move, for some reason.

Akane narrows her eyes, her perfectly composed exterior cracking ever so slightly. “You may not understand the gravity of this situation, Y/N, but you’ll come to see it’s for the best. We’re not here to argue with you. We’re here to ensure the future.”

“And I’m here to ensure my son’s happiness,” you bite back, standing as your chair scrapes loudly against the floor. “If you can’t respect that, then maybe we’re done here.” The room falls into a tense silence, the air thick with unspoken words. Koji, oblivious to the weight of the conversation, hums softly to himself, playing with the edge of his shirt.

Satoru finally speaks, his voice quieter but no less firm. “You don’t make arrangements for Koji without consulting us. This isn’t the company. You don’t get to call the shots here.”

Yamato frowns, standing up as well. Insticvively, Satoru follows, getting in front of you and Koji slightly in a protective stance. Finally, he crosses his arms, looking at the little family before him. Two of them looking exactly the same, for a second, Yamato feels like he’s talking to the past and future version of his son. In a way, he is. “...fine. You two are his parents, then fine. But it is my duty to ensure nothing wrong happens. My point still stands, it’s not wise to reveal Koji to the public eye yet,” he meets your eyes again. “You said you want him to have a normal childhood. Well, you should’ve thought about that before deciding to keep him. If you know what’s best, you’d agree with me.”

Without another word, Akane follows her husband to the door, and the two leave; the door slamming after them. The sound of the door slamming reverberates through the room, leaving an uneasy silence in its wake. Satoru uncrosses his arms, running a hand through his hair as he exhales sharply. You glance at Koji, who’s watching the door with a curious expression, seemingly oblivious to the tension that just passed.

“That man,” you mutter, shaking your head. “Who does he think he is, saying that?”

Satoru turns to you, his jaw tight but his voice calm. “That’s just how he is. Always has to have the last word, even if it’s total bullshit.”

You shift Koji on your hip, brushing his hair back softly as your mind replays Yamato’s parting words. You should’ve thought about that before deciding to keep him. The sting of it makes your chest tighten, but you force yourself to push it aside. “Are you okay?” Satoru asks, pulling you from your thoughts.

“Yeah,” you lie, though your voice falters slightly. “I’m just…angry. I know we’re not exactly best friends, but he has no right to talk about my decisions like that.”

Satoru watches you for a moment before sighing. “You’re right. He doesn’t. And you know what? Screw him. You’ve done everything for Koji. He doesn’t get to sit there and judge you from his high horse.”

The unexpected sincerity in his words takes you off guard, and for a moment, you can’t meet his eyes. “Thanks,” you murmur, focusing instead on Koji, who’s now fiddling with a string on his shirt.

Koji suddenly pipes up, breaking the tension. “Are they gone?”

“Yeah, kiddo,” Satoru says, taking him from your arms. “They’re gone. You don’t have to worry about them.”

“Good,” Koji says with a pout. “They were scary.”

You chuckle softly. “They’re just loud, that’s all. You don’t have to be scared of them.”

Satoru leans back in his chair, his gaze flicking to you. “So, what now?”

“What now?” you echo, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah. About them, about Koji, about…everything.” The question hangs in the air, heavy and loaded, but for once, it doesn’t feel like it’s just your burden to bear. You meet Satoru’s eyes, and for the first time in years, it feels like you’re standing on the same side of the battlefield. “I guess we figure it out,” you say softly. “Together.”

Satoru nods, a small, almost hesitant smile tugging at his lips. “Together, huh? I like the sound of that.”

It’s not a solution, not yet. But it’s a start. You can see a flicker in Satoru’s expression before he walks with Koji over to the living room. It’s one of hesitance, you understand. He doesn’t entirely forgive you, let alone trust you. But he’s trying, for Koji. This mess happened because you kept your mouth shut, so maybe it’s time you start trying too. You and Satoru are in each other’s lives now, so is there a rush to mend things between you two?

The annual board dinner is just as horrible as Satoru expected. Lavish decorations, stiff small talk, and the overbearing weight of expectations pressed down on him like the overly starched collar of his tailored suit. He’d tried to duck out of it, but his father’s suggestion—which was really an order—left no room for argument. “Smile, Satoru,” Yamato had muttered through gritted teeth when they entered the grand hall. “You’re representing this family.”

So here he was, nursing a glass of expensive champagne that tasted like regret and counting the minutes until he could leave. He glanced around, catching sight of familiar faces mingling and laughing, some of them stealing glances his way with the kind of superficial interest he loathed. “God, this is insufferable,” he muttered under his breath.

Having to charm old men into doing business with his father, flirt here and there with the older, taken women. Smile, smile, smile. For presentation sake. 

“Oh, look who it is.”

He groans, looking to the side and being met with the hard and chiseled face of Sukuna. A long term enemy of Satoru’s. Though he keeps it cordial in front of everyone else, he can’t help but engaged in the quiet back and forth. “My number one fan.” Satoru remarks simply, head tilting in a patronzing way.

Sukuna smirked, his sharp features twisting into something smug and self-assured. “Always the comedian, Gojo. I’m surprised you even remember how to crack a joke with how far your head is stuck up your family’s expectations.”

Satoru’s jaw clenched, but his grin didn’t waver. “And here I thought you showed up just to kiss my ass. Flattered, really.”

Their exchange was quiet enough to blend in with the hum of chatter around them, but the tension was palpable. Sukuna, with his sharp suit and predatory air, looked like he belonged here, but his presence was always unsettling. Pink hair that pokes up in a way that just barely reminds him of a certain someone. “I hear the old man’s got you busy charming fossils and bored housewives. Must be exhausting, all that fake smiling. Oh, wait, you’re used to that.”

Satoru’s laugh was light, but his eyes glinted with irritation. “What can I say? Some of us don’t need to rely on intimidation tactics to close deals. Or...whatever it is you call your little power plays.”

Sukuna stepped closer, the faintest hint of challenge in his stance. “Careful, Gojo. You might hurt my feelings.”

Satoru didn’t back down, his posture just as relaxed, his smile just as infuriatingly calm. “Wouldn’t dream of it. Besides, someone’s got to keep you entertained, right?”

Sukuna chuckled darkly, taking a sip from his glass. “You’re lucky this is a formal event. If we were anywhere else—”

“You’d what?” Satoru cut him off, his voice dropping an octave. “Throw another tantrum and lose? You’ve got quite the track record there, Sukuna.”

The older man’s jaw twitched, but he only gave a low, mirthless laugh. “Enjoy your little victories while you can, Gojo. You won’t always have Daddy to clean up after you.”

“No, that’s what you’re here for, isn’t it?” Satoru grins, patting the other man’s shoulder as everyone begins making their way to the tables as the speaker is about to begin.

Satoru finds his spot next to his parents, arms crossed and one long leg over the other. His dark suit ruffles as circles his shoulders up and down in a fit on annoyance for the tight material. 

The speaker, an older man with graying hair and a polished suit, steps up to the podium, his presence commanding immediate attention. The room quiets as he clears his throat, adjusting the microphone with practiced ease. “Good evening, everyone,” he begins, his voice rich and steady. “I hope you’ve all enjoyed the pre-dinner mingling, and I trust we’re all ready to get down to the business at hand. I won’t keep you long, but I must take a moment to reflect on the state of our industry, where we stand, and most importantly, where we’re going.” He pauses for effect, letting his gaze sweep over the gathered crowd. The eyes of the room are trained on him, but Satoru’s attention is divided, flicking between the speaker and the people seated around the table.

“Now, as we all know, times are changing. The landscape of business, both locally and globally, is evolving at a pace none of us could have predicted just a few short years ago. Innovation is at the forefront, and it is only through strategic alliances and forward-thinking leadership that we can continue to rise above the challenges that face us.” The speaker’s voice carries on with the rhythm of a man used to holding the room’s attention. “This is a pivotal moment, not only for our companies but for the future of the industry itself. It is with great anticipation that we look toward new ventures, new opportunities, and a commitment to excellence that can only be achieved through collaboration.”

A murmur ripples through the room as people nod in agreement, sipping their drinks, seemingly in sync with the speaker’s words.

“We have much to look forward to—be it through acquisitions, technological advancement, or our ongoing partnerships. The work ahead is exciting, but it requires unity, dedication, and a shared vision for what we can accomplish together. As we continue to push the boundaries, we must remember that this is more than just business; this is about legacy.” The speaker’s eyes flick over the audience, and for a split second, he meets Satoru’s gaze, offering a nod of acknowledgment.

“Tonight, we celebrate not only our past accomplishments but the bright future ahead. Let’s raise our glasses to the partnerships that have gotten us this far, and to the many more we will form in the years to come.”

A polite round of applause erupts, and the speaker steps back from the podium, signaling the end of his speech. The chatter begins again, and Satoru leans slightly forward with a soft smirk. “Business as usual,” he says under his breath, his tone light but with an edge of something more.

Satoru follows as everyone raises their glasses for a toast, clinking sounding throughout the large hall. Until, there’s small murmuring. It doesn’t faze Satoru as he sips, but then there’s gasps and whispers that sound like confusion mixed with shock.

Glancing around, there’s folks looking at their phones, talking to one another in a quiet voice, and then…looking directly at Satoru and his parents. His brows furrow. “What’s this?”

“What’s what?” His father responds, too busy drinking his glass, even drinking his wife’s. 

“This.” Satoru says with finality, jutting his chin up. His father and mother finally pay attention. Noticing the extra amount of attention of them tonight. Satoru spots Sukuna sitting at his table, eyes narrowing as one of his colleagues show him his phone. And then, Sukuna looks up, meeting Satoru’s eyes. Suddenly, everything feels wrong. He can make out the malicious smirk on the douchebag’s face, the laugh he doesn’t even try to hide.

What the fuck?

The Gojos continue glancing around with confusion, Satoru with growing annoyance. Until finally, Nanami briskly walks up to his father. “Mr. Gojo,” he clears his throat. The three turn to the man, Satoru can see a foreign trace of nervousness in Nanami’s demeanor. That’s not like him at all. 

Nanami can barely seem to articulate the correct sentence before turning his phone towards the Gojos. 

And their blood runs cold, Satoru’s world momenatrily stopping. 

It's a news article from Kyodo News+—the headline screaming in bold letters: 

"Gojo Satoru’s Secret Love Child Surfaces: The Hidden Son of a Billionaire."

The scream shatters the tension in the air, sharp and filled with raw emotion. Himari’s voice echoes down the halls, a guttural cry of frustration, shock, and betrayal that causes everyone within earshot to freeze. She doesn’t care that her perfectly styled hair is being whipped around as she pushes her way through the staff, her hands trembling in a mix of fury and disbelief. The phone she had been holding moments ago crashes against the wall, the screen cracking as her thoughts spiral out of control. Her breath is ragged, each step fueled by a mixture of hurt and anger as she moves with purpose, her eyes burning with a desperate intensity. “SATORU GOJO!” she screams, her voice cracking as the words leave her lips, the weight of them crashing down on her. “I’M GOING TO KILL YOU!” 

The maids scatter in her wake, unsure of how to respond to the chaos unfolding. But Himari isn’t looking at them. Her focus is elsewhere—on the person who just shattered the carefully constructed world she had built, on the one who, in a single moment, has upended everything she thought she knew.

She doesn’t even notice as she storms past the door to her parents’ private quarters, the sound of her footsteps growing louder with each step. The fury in her chest roars louder than the world around her as she moves toward the only people who could possibly understand the devastation she feels.

It’s not just betrayal anymore. It’s the crushing weight of a life built on lies. And Himari has had enough.

“Pffft!”

“Hey! You just spit on me, you asshole!”

Naoya’s voice rings out, practically shrill with laughter. His excitement is palpable, and it only serves to irritate Toji even more. "Toji! Toji! You have to see this!" Toji’s eyes narrow, his broad arms crossed over his bare chest as he leans back in his seat. The view of Lake Como stretches before him, but it feels distant, almost irrelevant compared to his cousin’s incessant enthusiasm. Vacation my ass, he thinks bitterly, wondering why he bothered to come here in the first place. He sighs, irritation lining his features. "Look at what?"

Naoya, unable to contain himself, thrusts his phone right into Toji’s face, nearly shoving it into his nose. "Look!" he repeats, bouncing on his heels, a look of sheer excitement on his face.

Toji groans, rolling his eyes. “I thought we agreed, no phones while we’re on vacation.”

Naoya ignores him completely, his grin widening. “Oh, trust me, this is worth it.”

With a heavy sigh, Toji finally reaches for the phone, taking it reluctantly. He presses the screen, waiting for the phone to wake up. The moment it does, his eyes meet the image that fills the screen—a photo of his business rival, Satoru Gojo, accompanied by a headline that stops Toji dead in his tracks. His brows furrow, the usual calm expression faltering for a moment. The headline’s words are seared into his brain, and Toji feels a pulse of confusion and something else he can’t quite name. He leans in closer, then back again, as if trying to process what he’s seeing.

"...What the hell?" he mutters under his breath. The image before him shows Satoru with a woman, someone Toji doesn’t recognize, and a child—Satoru’s child, if the headline is anything to go by.

Naoya’s grin only grows as he watches Toji’s reaction. “Pretty wild, huh? Didn’t see that coming from Gojo, did you?”

Toji’s fingers tighten around the phone, his eyes narrowing further. He doesn’t respond at first, too absorbed in the strange mix of shock and calculation churning in his mind. This isn’t just some random leak; it’s clearly orchestrated. “Where the hell did this come from?” Toji asks, finally looking back at his cousin, who’s still watching him with amusement.

Naoya shrugs nonchalantly. “Don’t know. Just saw it on a news feed. Looks like Gojo’s got some explaining to do, huh?” Toji just shakes his head, his mind already spinning with possibilities. 

He tosses the phone back to Naoya. “You’ve got some sick timing. Let’s see how this plays out.”

Naoya chuckles, oblivious to the wheels turning in Toji’s mind. “You know, you might want to take advantage of this. Could mean something for the company, or at least an edge over Gojo.”

Toji’s lips curl into a slight smirk, but it’s more predatory than playful. “We’ll see, Naoya. We’ll see.”

You feel like you can’t breathe, like nothing’s real. Staring at your TV screen with complete and utter shock, frozen in place. The world around you feels like it’s fading, as if you’re watching everything happen from a distance, disconnected from reality. Your eyes are locked on the TV screen, but you can’t process what you’re seeing—everything is too surreal.

“Hey, that’s me!” Koji happily exclaims, pointing to his young face on the screen, being carried by Satoru. From the looks of it, the picture was taken yesterday, inside Sator’s penthouse. But the picture is from an outside perspective.

The realization hits you like a cold wave. Who the hell took this? The blood drains from your face as your heart pounds even harder. How did they get this shot? Your stomach turns, a knot tightening in your chest. Isn’t this illegal?

Satoru’s name comes out of your mouth like a whisper of panic. “Satoru…”

You can barely hear your own voice over the buzzing in your ears, as your mind races, trying to process what this means. How could anyone have gotten this close? How could someone have been watching? The image on the screen—the calmness in Koji’s face, the warmth in Satoru’s arms—makes your blood run cold. Koji’s innocent voice cuts through again, “Mama, why is it on TV? Are we famous?” He giggles, clearly unaware of the danger that’s now in your midst.

You mouth emits a breathe of air that faintly resembles a chuckle. But you’re not laughing. You’re too frozen in fear to say anything, to even move. You can’t shake the feeling that something is horribly wrong, that the peaceful life you’ve managed to carve out with your son is hanging by a thread. You hold your breath, waiting for the next shoe to drop.

How many people know about this? How much further can they go?

How much further can you go?

The woman leans back in her chair, the flickering light of her computer screen casting shadows across her face as she watches the confirmation of the transaction appear before her eyes. Her lips curl into a snarky, satisfied grin. It’s the kind of smile that’s dangerous, the kind of smile that tells you she’s one step ahead, and there’s no turning back now.

A low, almost guttural laugh escapes her—deep and malevolent, echoing in the quiet room. The money is more than just a transaction; it’s power, it’s leverage. And the best part? No one even knows it’s her. Not yet.

She pauses, letting the silence stretch out before her next move. She takes a slow, deliberate breath, savoring the moment, then leans forward. “Wonderful…” she whispers to herself. 

a/n: i'm sorry if things seemed rushed, chap was getting looong. but enjoy!

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[sailortongue]

Lima Bean

pairing: kenji sato x reader

summary: kenji makes his intentions clear and a certain reporter is a little too committed to his job

an: ik the title is kinda dumb but bear with me i have an idea (title is still subject to change if the idea falls through). also tags are being kind of silly and I don't know how to get them to act right so if you asked to be tagged but didn't get notified I swear I tried 😭

wc: 2k

navi | prev | series mlist

--------

“I’m pregnant.”

Those two words changed Kenji’s entire demeanor in seconds. His face dropped and his jaw hung open in complete disbelief. “. . . Are you sure?” He asked. 

“Positive test, missed period, morning sickness,” you listed off. “I’m going to make an OBGYN appointment anyway just to be 100% sure, but so far yeah I’m pretty sure.”

“Ah,” was all he could say in response, his mind both blank and racing at the same time. Had he really not used protection? Was he that drunk? He tried to think back to that night, but all he could seem to remember was a flash of you under him and his lips on your neck. His face immediately flushed scarlet. 

“Are you angry?” You asked, noticing the rapid shift in his complexion. 

He rushed to deny your assumption. “No! No, nothing like that. I'm just . . . not sure what to make of this.”

“I know how you feel,” you said wryly. “Just thought you should know, I guess.” You shrugged your shoulders, feeling almost hollow inside with the knowledge that your life was about to undergo a drastic change.

“I appreciate it, thank you. If you don’t mind, uh,” he hesitated, searching for the right words. “I'd like to be present. To be a father.” He thought back to when he took care of Emi and how much he came to love her. He was confident in his ability to take care of his own biological child, even if these weren’t the circumstances in which he imagined he’d have one. 

You looked at him as if you were meeting him for the very first time, entirely taken aback by his willingness to step up. Truthfully you'd expected him to deny any responsibility, but there he was, asking to raise the baby alongside you—to step up to the metaphorical plate and be a dad. “Really? And you’re not going to leave at the first inconvenience?”

“No. You have my word on that.” His expression was one of utmost sincerity. “I want to be a dad. Granted, this isn’t how I expected it,” he laughed awkwardly, “but it’s how it happened, and I won't run away from it.”

You gave him a soft smile. “I'll be honest, I didn't expect you to be so noble.”

“Thought I’d tell you to get rid of it or just throw a check at you to never contact me again? I understand the concern, but I want to be there every step of the way.”

“Then, would you like to come with me for my appointment? I haven’t scheduled it yet but . . .” you trailed off, realizing you were asking a very busy man to take time out of his day to accompany you to a doctor's appointment. “Unless of course you’re busy or don’t want to,” you added quickly.

He laughed at how flustered you’d gotten. “I'll be there. No matter the weather, practice, or a game, I will be there. That’s my kid you’ve got in there after all,” he said with a broad grin on his face as he pointed to your abdomen. “And that takes priority over everything else.”

“Wow. You’re smitten with something that’s probably the size of a lima bean right now,” you teased.

“Woah now, that’s our lima bean and I’m going to be the best dad a bean could wish for,” he asserted, imagining teaching his future son or daughter to play baseball with him or helping with homework, even what it would be like to do his daughter’s hair, or perhaps teaching his son how to tie a tie.

He was snapped from his thoughts when you slid your phone towards him from across the table, the screen displaying a new contact. “If we're going to be coparenting we should have each other's numbers.”

He picked up the device to input his number and then checked his own phone. He showed you the screen, a message from your own number displayed there. 

It was only when he handed your phone back to you that you noticed how late it had already become. “Oh wow, I didn’t realize the time. I didn't mean to keep you so late,” you apologized. 

“No no, it’s fine. I'm glad you, or, Ami, I guess, insisted we have this conversation in person. Think if I had been told over text I’d still be sitting on the couch reading it over and over again,” he laughed. 

“That was how I felt looking at the test. It didn’t feel real.” You had a smile that mirrored his own, and you couldn’t believe how fortunate you were that Kenji wasn’t the douche you expected he’d be when he found out. Quite the opposite, to your pleasant surprise.

“Do you need a ride back home?” He asked earnestly, not quite ready to say bye. After all, you hadn’t  allowed him the chance the last time you had met. 

You shook your head as you stood from the table. “No, I drove here, but thanks anyway. I guess I'll keep in touch?”

He hummed in affirmation, standing from his chair, his impressive height towering over you. He gestured for you to walk first, following close behind you, his hand lightly pressed to your lower back as he walked with you to your car. While the two of you were wishing each other good night, another patron of the cafe was typing furiously into his phone, notifying his boss that he had just overheard the sport's world's juiciest scandal in months.

-❀-

The first thing you did the following day was schedule an appointment with an obstetrician. There had been a recent cancellation so you were able to get a slot in just a few days. You sent Kenji a text to notify him when and where, a small part of you looking forward to seeing him again. He responded quickly, saying he would definitely be there. 

When the day came, he called you to ask if you wanted to go together, rather than take two cars. You agreed and told him your address, choosing to wait for him inside due to the biting cold of December. When you heard a car pull up, you exited your home, and it took all of your willpower not to gawk at his car, which was probably worth more than your entire house. You saw the driver's door begin to open, and he stepped out, breathtakingly handsome as usual. He pushed his sunglasses on top of his head and waved, greeting you with a jovial “Morning!”

“Good morning, Kenji,” you returned, a smile gracing your features. 

As you approached the car, he slid back into the driver's seat and looked over at you, taking in the sight of the mother of his future child. He'd lain awake all night, playing with the idea over and over in his mind. He was really going to be a dad. How different could it be to raise a human baby if he’d already done so with a 20-foot-tall kaiju baby?

You noticed his gaze in your peripheral vision, but as you turned to look at him he snapped his attention forward and made himself busy with inputting the name of the doctor’s office you’d given him into the GPS. 

The ride was filled with pleasant small talk, asking each other how you had been since last time, basically avoiding the elephant in the room and talking about everything except the new life between you. After parking, he made sure to open the door to the office for you and entered after you, a rush of cold air enveloping you as you approached the front desk. You confirmed your appointment with the receptionist, and she directed the two of you to sit in the waiting room and told you your name would be called when the doctor was ready. 

As you were waiting, you noticed Kenji’s leg bouncing up and down rapidly, showing his nerves despite it not even being his appointment. You took the opportunity that had presented itself and placed your hand atop his knee. He looked over at you, his brown eyes wide and his lips pressed into a thin line. “You can wait in the car if you’d prefer—“

“No!” He all but shouted, refusing to let you believe for even one second that he would run out. “I said I would be here for you and I will,” he said adamantly, placing his hand over yours where it was still on his knee and squeezing tightly, a physical reassurance that we was staying put. 

“y/n l/n.” You heard your name called.  You and Kenji stood together, his hand not releasing yours. Instead, he rubbed calming circles on the skin as you were escorted into the patient rooms, though you weren’t entirely sure if it was meant to ease his nerves or yours. Either way, it was a sweet gesture.

-❀-

The gel was cold as it was spread across your exposed skin, sending shivers up your spine. A grainy black and white image showed up on the screen, and the doctor pointed to a small grey object depicted on it, surrounded by a sea of black. “This,” she started, “is the fetus.” You looked at the screen in awe before glancing over at Kenji. He was seated in a chair against the wall, his elbows braced on his knees as he leaned forward, his attention rapt on the screen and his lips open in a small “o” shape. 

The doctor chuckled at your amazed reactions. “Excited to be parents?” She asked.

You don’t think Kenji even heard her, so you answered. “To be totally honest, this was unexpected, but I think we can make it work. Kenji here made it very clear that he wants to be a dad.”

“That's wonderful to hear. Well, looking at the scan I'd say you’re about 7 weeks along and you can expect to welcome the baby around August 11. 

Kenji was practically bubbling as you each took your seats in the car, and he kept stealing glances at your tummy even if you weren’t showing any visible change yet. 

-❀-

These past few days of tailing the nation's sweetheart baseball player were so worth it, thought the man sitting in his car while browsing through the photos of Kenji Sato and a woman he’d never been seen with before entering and leaving an OBGYN facility together. Interesting. Very interesting. With those photos there was no denying that Kenji Sato, baseball heartthrob, was a soon-to-be father.

-❀-

Kenji put the car in park in your driveway. You made to get out of the car until he exclaimed “Wait!” You re-situated yourself on the seat, angling yourself towards him. He seemed almost at war with himself, like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to actually say what had prompted him to stop you from leaving. “Would you, uh,” he faltered, chuckling awkwardly. “Would you like to go on a date with me?” He gave you a hopeful look. 

Heat flushed across your face and ears, and you beamed at him. “Doing things way out of order aren’t we?” You joked. 

He laughed mirthfully as well. “Way out of order,” he agreed. “So, was that a yes? To go out?”

“Yes, that was a yes,” you giggled, finding his eagerness endearingly sweet.

He nodded his head. “Ok. Ok, great. Are you free this Saturday? I'll pick you up?”

“I’ll see you then,” you agreed cheerfully, and, deciding to take another risk since you were doing things all out of order anyway, you leaned over and placed a quick peck against his cheek before hopping out of the car and waving goodbye. He continued to wait in the car until he saw you safely enter your home, his heart threatening to beat out of his chest and his face crimson red, one hand placed lightly against where your lips had touched his skin. 

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next

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[churipu]

Idk if u take requests rn, but if you do, could you write fluffy moments with jjk men (pls include toji, i rlly wanna see him w fluff because there is like none) you fav would be cuddling, but you do whatever you want <3 Also, don't stress yourself when writing i, and please take breaks <33

JJK MEN + FLUFFY MOMENTS (๑ > ᴗ < ๑)

featuring. toji fushiguro, gojo satoru, nanami kento x reader

warnings. jjk men being softies

note. i just read the most heart wrenching nanami fic, i think i'm not okay at all </3 but hi anon, thank you for requesting this — this is exactly what i needed after reading angst. i apologize if it took a long time to get this out omg, i hope you like it.

and guys, omg???? 700+ followers? i genuinely never expected my works to be recognized by so much, and meeting new writers here and there, making friends, makes me so happy (i'm not crying) i love u all so so so so much, u guys rock, ily all <;33

TOJI FUSHIGURO

hated talking about the future, but ever since he met you — he rambles about it.

toji has always thought his future was nothing interesting, he kills people for a living, gets money off of it and he gambles. that's about it, so what was there to think about in the future?

meeting you was the firsts to a lot of things in his life.

toji grew up in a loveless household full of anger, and lust for power. which is why he is who he is today. distant, aloof, detached. people tell him he'd be nothing without his strength and face, there is no denying that toji fushiguro has a face card. he knows that.

so when he first met you, all he expected was like every other day. people caring about his face, and only that — and he'd play along although he's had enough of it, but no; you didn't care about all that.

face, money, strength. none of that.

he vaguely remembered the first time you spoke to him: "hey, mind helping me grab that box of cereal?" and he expected you to hit on him after, but you left it at that, muttering out a thanks and then leaving him in the aisle alone.

then for some reason he meets you again, the very next month. asking him the exact same thing, asking for help to take the cereal box which happened to be on the very top of the shelf. god knows why, both you and him just made it a routine every month after that. no communications about meeting and all. you both kind of just, met right in the cereal aisle on one particular day in the month, and then leave.

on the fifth month, he finally asks for your number.

"toji, is that your way of asking me out? because if it is, i'm disappointed."

"maybe."

and then you both kind of just sealed it; you're dating. nothing much changed, every month both you and him still go to the cereal aisle — he still helps you with grabbing the box from the shelf. the only difference was that now the two of you leave together.

toji hates talking about his future. but with you? he could go on for a whole day. he rambles about what he thinks and what he wants in the future with you.

"i wan' to get married. i wan' to marry you," did it caught you by surprise? yes. yes it did, "i wan' to have a family with you, a nice little family. i wan' to have a son so i could throw him around — but a girl is okay too, i can protect her from boys, i'll love them both equally. but i don't think i'll be a good dad to them. i'm scared they won't like me."

"toji, what? where did that come from?"

his back was pressed to your chest as you both lay down on the bed, one of your leg draped over his torso and he has his hand on your plush thigh, squeezing it every once in a while.

"i don't know. just a thought, i never talked about my future with anyone before," his body vibrated as he grunted, leaning his head back a bit, "i just don't think i'll be a good father, y'know?" he squeezed your thigh.

"why do you think so?" you asked him, placing your chin on the crown of his head.

"i just think so."

"stop thinking then," you chuckles, draping an arm around his neck, caressing his throat so softly it made the male shudder under your touch — but he didn't mind, he took comfort under your skin.

"can't." his voice was not stern or bold, it was soft and serene. he laced his fingers with yours, kissing your knuckles gently, "i can't believe 'm saying this, but 'm worried about my future. 'm a little scared."

just the fact he was admitting that he's scared about something was mind boggling, because the toji fushiguro? who kills people? was admitting that he was actually terrified of something, which wasn't even the strongest sorcerer. it's his future.

you were silent, letting him talk because when else would he be able to be like this?

"'m terrified. 'm scared i won't make you happy. what if i don't make you happy? what if my kids hate me?" so many questions that you don't even have the answer to, but you placed your hand over his lips, shutting him up.

toji grumbled, he swiped his tongue over your palm.

"ew!" you laugh, wiping your hand on his shirt, "but why're you suddenly talking about this all? which videos have you been watching again?"

"nothing, can't i think about my own future with you?" he shuffles, turning to face you, prepping an arm under his head as he stares down at you. not in the condescending way — he stared at you with so much desperation for love, he slowly blinks, the glint in his eyes never changing.

"why out of the blue?"

"jus' because."

you poked his cheek, "liar."

he sighs, latching his hand onto your hips, pulling you close. he buries his head into your shoulder in content, "jus' worried about it, i never think about my future in the past. but now — with you, i jus' worry about it because i didn't think i'd make it 'till now."

you chuckled, rubbing the back of his head lightly, "you remember that one time in the park when you see that little boy crying over spilled ice cream?"

he hums softly.

"and you bought him another ice cream, but asked me to be the one to give it to him because you were scared you'd scare him off instead?" you ask him, your fingers tangling with his hair lightly.

"yeah."

"you'll be fine, toji." you tell him.

"y'think so?" he retorts back, squirming a bit.

"i know so."

GOJO SATORU

he has to know about everything that you like, he needs to know why you like them. every. single. thing.

gojo chased after you. you were one tough cookie, he likes a chase. he's so used to people fawning over his looks that when you didn't — he just has to know your name.

the curiosity to know your name ended up pulling him in a spiral of this little thing called "love". gojo swore it was just curiosity, but everyone else besides him thinks otherwise, he promised himself and people around that he didn't like you, he was just, well, curious.

but curiosity doesn't look like that. gojo finds himself asking people about what type of boys you like, and when he finds out about it — he tries his best to be your type. he promised he was just curious.

gojo tries finding out what your favorite flower is, and when he finds out about it, he's out there sending big bouquets of it to you. he promised he was just curious.

gojo tries finding out what your favorite genre of music is, and when he finds out, he listens to them so he could talk about it with you. he promised he was just curious.

gojo tries finding out what your favorite series or movie is, and when he finds out, he watches them all intently so he could talk about them with you and hate on characters together with you. and he still promises that he was just curious.

he was just curious, he kept telling that to himself. so why does it bother him when you were out with another guy? another guy that's not him. not gojo satoru.

gojo asks you about who it was, and when you tell him it's nobody important, he gets upset about it.

"why are you so upset?"

"i'm just..curious."

"it's none of your business."

he left it at that. his whole week was ruined, he couldn't stop thinking about it. about you. and then he finally realizes, he wasn't curious — he was in love. so there he was, in front of your door at two in the morning.

"what?"

"who was that guy?"

"gojo, you're still onto that?" you ask him, tired, "i said it's none of your business. you're here at two just to ask me about that?"

"it's my business because i'm in love with you, damn it!"

gojo was half grateful when you told him it was your distant cousin, but half embarrassed as well. all's well ends well. he gets you in the end, and he doesn't have to worry about anything else — nothing in the world matters to him but you.

"baby, what do you recommend?" was one of the most spoken phrases he has delivered to you.

in restaurants, dessert bars, convenience store, movie theaters, anything you could recommend him, he'd ask for it.

"why do you always ask? don't you have your own preference, satoru? i'm not even sure if you'll like my recommendations though," he smiles at you, tracing small circled on the back of your hand.

"i want to know about everything that you like, and why you like them. i want to know everything about you," you look at him and smiled, honestly, what did we ever do to deserve him?

"why?"

"because i love you." yeah, he wasn't just curious. he's in love. and deep.

NANAMI KENTO

he always orders food that you like, and shares some with you — even if you didn't ask for it.

nanami never expected to be in relationships. in fact, relationships was the last thing in his mind — but when he met you, he just kind of felt attracted. he seeks for your comfort whenever he's tired, and when you weren't there, nanami just sort of drowns in himself until he could see you or hear your voice.

at the beginning of your relationship, nanami was never the one to initiate things because he wasn't an experienced male in relationships. you ask him and he just sort of do it without any other complaints.

but as time goes on, he get the hang of it. what he should do and what he shouldn't — it's adorable, he's started doing things that he never thought he would do in his life, but here he was sitting by your side; peeling apples for you because you wanted them.

"kento, eat some. it's going to be finished by the time you finish peeling every one of them," you joked, your legs on top of his thighs.

nanami hums softly, "it's okay. as long as you like it."

nanami doesn't realize the weigh of his sweet words sometimes, he does it and asks himself to why you were reacting like that. sweet talk is his vocabulary. he says it with no worries, telling you things you've always wanted to hear but never say.

but one thing that always stuck to him and you from the first time you got close up to now was: nanami always orders things that you like. you never understood the reason behind it, and when you tried asking him about it, he just tells you he was craving it.

it didn't seem odd at first — but as time goes on, his whole taste was just an exact copy of yours.

if you get something different than your usual menu, nanami will get your usual menu because he knows damn well that you're going to end up wanting them. although you don't tell him when the food comes, nanami makes it his job to share with you. and that's really sweet of him.

but when you get your usual menu, nanami orders something with elements that you like in them and shares them with you even without you asking for a bite. and not only that, he didn't share a spoonful — he shared a lot.

"ken, you don't have to share with me. i have my own food." you tell him, despite your heart tugging you to just let him share because you were too shy to say that you wanted a bite.

"it's alright sweetheart. i'm a little full." he lies. he ends up snacking on something on midnight, and it's now a routine.

so in exchange for that, you always make it your job to stock up foods ranging from small snacks like biscuits, chips, up to instant or pre-heated food. even cutting up fruits so nanami could snack on it, and he caught on to it pretty quick.

but he didn't complain, he likes it when you do it.

"ken, i cut out some mangoes and dragon fruit. you can eat them if you're hungry."

"thank you y/n."

mutual wins.

© CHURIPU 2023 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE

[alotofpockets]

Meeting again | Part 1 | Leah Williamson x Reader

Where you take your son to Leah's book signing and you reconnect with your high school friend/crush.

Happy birthday to our blonde pookie!

Meeting again universe | Woso masterlist | Words: 2.7k

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You were doing some work around the house when your ex called. “Hey Ryan, what’s up?” You say as you turn off the vacuum. “Hi y/n, I’m so sorry. I know that it’s my day, but I’m going to be stuck at work until late. Is there any way you can pick up Liam from school and take him to that book signing from Leah?” The two of you had gotten a divorce many years ago, when you had finally come to terms with your sexuality. Ryan had always been understanding, and now you were still friends, and co-parented your son Liam together. “Oh yeah, don’t worry, I can do that.” You could hear the relief in his voice. “Thank you so much, I owe you one. He has a half day, so he should be done at school in about an hour. I packed his Arsenal jersey and scarf, he wanted to wear them to the signing. Thank you again, I have to go. Send me pictures of the signing?”  Your kid would always be your number one priority, so you hung up the phone and got ready.

“Hey bud, your dad is stuck at work, so I’m going to take you to Waterstones later, is that okay?” The boy greeted you with a hug. “Yes, of course, you’ll get to see Leah again!” Back in high school you and Leah were very close, there was even some gossip about the two of you dating, but when you got wind of that you shut those rumours down quickly by starting a relationship with Ryan, a relationship that drove a wedge between your friendship with Leah. Your love for the women’s game continued to grow though, and you have supported Arsenal all your life, just like Leah. Liam fell in love with it too, and you often found yourself amongst the crowd of Arsenal WFC and Lionesses matches together. Liam was a smart kid, and after finding you looking at TikTok videos of Leah, he started asking questions. “Watch it, or we’re not going.” You said with a fake seriousness. Liam knew full well that it was an empty threat as you loved messing with him. 

You decided to make it a special day for your son, by taking him out for lunch before heading over to Waterstones. It was to no surprise to you that he wanted to go to his favourite restaurant. “Smile for your dad.” The boy looked up from his plate with a big grin on his face. Proudly wearing his Williamson jersey and his Arsenal scarf. 

The line at Waterstones was long, but you bought the book and joined the line together. You could tell he was excited just by the way his eyes lit up, and his smile was constantly present on his face. His excitement made you glad that you were able to join him on this occasion, but it didn’t trump your nerves of seeing Leah again. Of course, you had seen her play, but you were always just a person in the crowd, and now you were going to be face to face with the girl you’ve had a crush on since you were fifteen. 

Never in your life had you been so nervous to see someone from your past, but you set it aside for your son, this was his moment. Plus Leah would probably not even remember you, right? You were a nobody, and she was the England captain and the Arsenal co-captain. 

When it was your turn, Liam walked up to the signing table, while you stood back to take pictures. “Hi, what’s your name?” You heard the blonde ask your son. “I’m Liam, it’s very nice to meet you. My mom is a big fan of yours as well.” The sneaky little bastard, you thought as your eyes met Leah’s. Her eyes showed instant recognition. ‘Yours?’ she mouthed your way, and you answered with a nod. “It’s very nice to meet you too Liam, want to come over to this side for a picture?” Leah signed the book, and wrote something on one of the cards laying to the side as Liam made his way around the table. “I see you’re repping my jersey! You know what would go great with that?” He shook his head. “This new cap, would you like one?” Liam looked over to you with hopeful eyes, “Can I mom?” You smiled at the interaction between Leah and your son, “Yeah, of course.” He turned back to Leah, “Thank you so much!” The two posed for a picture. “Any time Liam. Here is your signed book, and could you please give this card to your mom?” He grinned big when he saw a written phone number on the back of the card. “Thank you Leah!”

“Mom! I got you her number, you have to call her!” You look at the card that Liam handed you ‘Would love to catch up, send me a text if you’re up for it :)’ along with her cell. You looked between the card and Leah, who shot you a smile before returning to the next person in line. “Please tell me you’re going to send her a text, please!” Liam was tired of always seeing you admire Leah from afar, and now that you had a real shot to reconnect with her, he wanted you to take it. Plus how cool would it be if his mom would go out with the Leah Williamson? You pocket the card, “Maybe later, you little snitch. I thought we had a deal.” You say playfully as you put your arm around his shoulder. Quite frankly it scared you a little to send her a text. “Let’s head home.”

When you got home you put Leah’s number in your phone and stared at the message screen forever, trying to decide what to text her. You really wanted to reconnect with her, but you also didn’t want to overcompensate, and ruin any chance you had. You settled on something simple, letting her make the next move.

You: Hi Leah, it’s y/n. It was good seeing you today, catching up sounds nice.

You hadn’t expected to get a message back from her so soon.

Leah: So glad we ran into each other. Talk about the details later?

The message notification was staring back at you, your heart was beating out of your chest simply from her message. You quickly put your phone away, without opening her message when Liam walks in. “Mom, you know that I want you to be happy right?” You nod, “Of course, I know that kiddo. What makes you say that?” He shrugs, “I just don’t want you to hold back because of me.” You shake your head, “You’re too smart. I love you, kiddo.” He hugs your side, “I love you too, mom.” 

The two of you were hanging out at home, when Ryan called again. “Hey, thank you for sending me those pictures. They really made my day, glad to see him so happy.” You notice the exhaustion behind his words, “Yeah of course, I don’t want you to miss out on stuff because of your job.” Liam was so important to the both of you, but your divorce had led to missing some things here and there, that you always tried to minimise together. “Speaking of work, I should be done around eight. You know I hate to ask, but-” You interrupted him, “You don’t have to ask, of course. Pick him up whenever you are done, okay?” You heard the relief in his voice, “Thank you. Can I talk to him for a moment?” You walk over to Liam and hand him the phone, “It’s your dad.” After handing him your phone, you give him some space to talk to his dad. 

You continued vacuuming since you weren’t done when you had to pick up Liam from school. So, you didn’t hear the interaction with Ryan, or when the call was over, and definitely not when you got another phone call. Liam looked at the contact and smirked to himself. When he realised you didn’t hear the phone call, he picked up himself. “Hi Leah, it’s Liam.” The girl had not expected your son to pick up, but she went with it anyway. “Hey Liam! How did you like the book signing?” He told her how much he enjoyed it before Leah continued with her questions. “I was looking for your mom, is she around?” If it were a video call, Leah would have seen the mischievous look in Liam’s eyes, but since it was a voice call he could hide behind the screen. “She is a little busy right now, but she said she wanted to invite you over for dinner tonight if you had time.” Leah knew she should’ve questioned it more, but she wanted to see you so badly, that she set up dinner plans with your son. 

Just ten minutes before Leah said she would be there Liam came walking up to you. “Hey mom, so I kind of invited Leah over for dinner tonight.” Never in your life had you turned around so quickly, “You did what?” You could not believe what your son had just told you. “She will be here in-” His sentence was interrupted by the doorbell. “Now.” He said with a big smile. You were frozen in place, Leah Williamson was at your door, and you were in sweats and a tank top, your hair a mess from the house work you had been doing for the past hour. “Are you going to let her in?” You turned to Liam, “You are going to be in so much trouble later.” Again, Liam knew there was no actual threat behind your words, because that’s not how you parented.

On your way to the door, you tried to quickly fix your hair. You open the door, “Oh hi Ryan, you’re here early.” He smiles back at you, “Yeah our last meeting got cancelled, sorry I didn’t let you know.” You shake your head, “No, no it’s okay. Liam, your dad is here!” The boy came running into his dad’s arms. “You’re here!” The bond between them was amazing, he truthly loved the both of you equally. “Have you had something to eat yet?” Liam shakes his head, “How does McDonald’s sound?” You grab Liam’s bag, and give him a quick kiss on his cheek, before waving the both of them off. 

As soon as you closed the door, you ran up the stairs to quickly get changed, and look more presentable. You had just finished doing your hair when your doorbell rang again. This time it was Leah standing on the other side of the door. “Hi Leah, come in.” She looked so beautiful in her simple white t-shirt and a pair of green cargo pants. “Hey y/n, thank you. No Liam?” She questioned when you walked her further into the house. “He wanted to be here but his dad came to pick him up a little bit ago. I’m sorry to say that McDonald’s has been picked over dinner with you.” You joke, hoping to make the moment a bit lighter. Hearing Leah’s laugh brought you back to those days where you would sit on the grass, and make fun of the boys on the football team. 

“So, Liam is a big fan of football then?” Leah started awkwardly. You loved talking about him, so you just started talking. “Yeah, I started taking him to matches when he was still a little baby. He loved it ever since, I can’t go to an Arsenal match without him nowadays. A gooner from the start, just like you.” Leah blushed slightly. “So, you’ve been coming to our matches all this time?” Now it was your turn to blush. “Maybe.” The both of you laugh. “Ryan surprisingly never got into football, so it’s been something I get to share with Liam.” The name you mentioned caught Leah’s attention. “Wait Ryan is Liam’s dad? You actually married high school Ryan?” You realised that bringing his name up was probably a mistake since he is what drove the two of you apart. “Oh yeah, high school Ryan indeed. Liam’s dad indeed, and I did marry him. We haven’t been married for like five years though.” 

Leah’s ears perk up at that. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” You shrug your shoulders, “It’s all good, it was time I finally figured out my sexuality. We’re still friends, and he's great with Liam. Anyways, how have you been?” The two of you start talking and catching up, and somehow even though more than a decade had passed and you had lived such different lives, it felt like you had never not known each other. 

You walk into the kitchen together, still talking, when the both of you start getting hungry. That is when you realise that you had to go to the grocery store today, and didn’t have much in the house. “So, confession time. I didn’t actually know you were coming over until Liam told me about ten minutes before you arrived.” Leah laughed, “I had a feeling the invite wasn’t extended by you, but I didn’t want the opportunity to go to waste.” You blush at her words. “I am very happy that you are here, don’t get me wrong. I was just not prepared. It was Ryan’s day with the kid, but he got stuck at work so I didn’t have a chance to go to the grocery store like I had originally planned. Let’s see, I have Potato Smileys, and literally nothing else. I am so sorry.” Leah did not care what you would eat one bit, she was just happy to be there with you. “Good thing I love Potato Smileys then!”

You shared a laugh at the situation and decided to make the best of it. While the Potato smileys were in the oven, you set the table with some condiments to go along with them. As you were waiting for the Smileys to cook, you and Leah fell back into conversation. You were reminiscing over old times, and shared stories from the past years since. It was easy talking to her, it really felt like no time had passed.

Once you were done with dinner, you moved to the living room where you each found a comfortable place on the couch to continue catching. Before you realised it, hours had passed by. Leah looked at her watch, and noticed the time first. “Oh it’s late, I hadn’t realised so much time had passed.” You glance at the clock yourself, “Wow, yeah it is. I’m really glad you came over tonight, catching up with you has been great.” Leah smiled in return, “Yes it was, I’ve missed this. I hope we can hang out again soon!” You walk her to the door, “For sure! Liam and I will be at the match Sunday, maybe we can do something after? If you don’t mind him tagging along of course.” Her smile grew big, “I would love that, and for Liam to tag along always!”

As you said goodbye, and Leah got into her car you couldn’t help but feel hopeful for what the future might hold. Just having Leah back into your life in whatever way possible made you extremely happy. Tonight had been so nice, and you really wanted to see Leah again soon, Sunday didn’t feel soon enough. So, you decided to send her a message. You felt less nervous sending this message than the one this afternoon, but still there were some nerves.

You: Would you maybe want to grab a coffee sometime this week? I’d love to meet up sooner than Sunday.

As you were getting ready to go to bed, your phone dinged with a new message.

Leah: I know a great spot! Are you free tomorrow?

You smiled at the text, Leah proposing tomorrow had to mean she wanted to see you again soon too, right? You quickly let her know you’re free, before sending her a goodnight message and calling it a night. Though, your mind kept you up for a while longer, not wanting to let go of today just yet.

Continue reading part 2!

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[callsigns-haze]

A pilot? Again?

Pairing: Jake Seresin X detective, single mom reader

After investigating a crash at Top Gun for four hours, Detective Y/N, who lost her husband Daniel four years ago, finds no evidence of foul play and deems the case closed. During her time there, she reconnects with Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, Daniel's younger brother, and meets his charming wingman, Jake "Hangman" Seresin. Hangman flirts with Y/N as he walks her to her car, and for the first time in years, she feels comfortable with the attention. Before leaving, Y/N gives him her card with her number, leaving the door open for future contact. Hangman promises to text, sparking the potential for a new chapter in her life.

This chapter contains references to past personal loss and emotional themes. It features characters dealing with grief and the aftermath of a tragic event.

Two Weeks of Silence

It had been two weeks since the funeral, but the house was still suffocating. The silence was unbearable, the only sounds coming from the occasional babble of 14-month-old Keith or the quiet shuffle of Logan, who had been eerily quiet since his father’s death. It was as if the life had been drained from the walls along with Daniel "Griffin" Bradshaw, Bradley’s older brother by two years.

Y/N stood in the kitchen, gripping the counter with trembling hands, her back turned to the door. The numbness hadn’t left. It clung to her like a second skin, tightening with every passing day. She had held it together at the funeral—everyone had said she was so strong. Strong for the kids. But now, without the distraction of people offering meaningless words, she felt nothing but an empty ache.

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw had been coming over almost every day since the funeral. Not that she’d asked him to. He just showed up, like he was trying to step into Daniel’s shoes. But he wasn’t Daniel. He never would be.

She heard the familiar creak of the door behind her. She didn’t bother turning around. She already knew who it was.

“Y/N,” Bradley said, his voice quiet but rough, the usual edge missing.

“What is it, Bradley?” she asked, her tone sharper than she intended.

“I came to check on you,” he said, stepping into the kitchen with a heavy sigh.

Y/N gritted her teeth and turned to face him, her arms crossed. She looked exhausted—dark circles under her eyes, her face pale and drawn. “You don’t have to keep coming here, you know. I’m not your responsibility.”

Bradley’s jaw tightened. He didn’t like the way she was pushing him away, but he wasn’t about to argue with her. Not now. Not after everything. “I know. But I’m here anyway.”

She let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “Right. You’re always here.”

Bradley stared at her, his eyes flicking to the half-empty bottle of whiskey sitting on the counter. “Have you slept at all?”

“Why does it matter?” she snapped. “Sleep doesn’t change anything. Daniel’s still dead. I’m still stuck here raising these boys on my own. You think a nap’s going to fix that?”

Bradley didn’t flinch. He just nodded, the muscles in his jaw working as he tried to keep his emotions in check. “No. It won’t.”

Y/N turned away from him again, her eyes stinging with unshed tears. Keith’s babbling came from the living room, a small reminder that her youngest son needed her, even though she felt like she had nothing left to give. Logan, too, had been withdrawn, watching everything in silent confusion. He was too young to understand why his father wasn’t coming home, but old enough to sense the weight of what had happened.

“What am I supposed to tell them, Bradley?” she asked, her voice breaking slightly. “What do I say to Logan when he asks about his dad? That he died on some mission that went sideways? That he’s never coming back? When I do he asks why. How am I meant to know!?”

Bradley exhaled sharply, running a hand over his face. “I don’t know, Y/N. I wish I had the answers. But Logan’s going to need you to be honest with him. You can’t shield him from it forever.”

She let out a shaky breath, blinking rapidly to fight back the tears. “He’s only seven, Bradley. He shouldn’t have to grow up like this.”

Bradley stepped closer, his voice softening. “You’re right. He shouldn’t. But he’s tough—just like his dad. And you’re tougher than you think.”

Y/N shook her head, her voice barely above a whisper. “It'll ruin the kid. I’m just so damn tired.”

Bradley stood there, not sure what to say. He wasn’t good at this—the comforting, the emotional stuff. That had always been Daniel’s role. But Daniel wasn’t here anymore, and Bradley was all Y/N had left. He stepped forward, cautiously, until he was right next to her.

“You don’t have to do it alone,” he said quietly. “I’m here for you. For Logan. For Keith.”

Y/N didn’t respond at first, just kept staring at the floor, the weight of everything crushing down on her. After a long pause, she finally spoke, her voice tight with suppressed emotion.

“You’re not Daniel, Bradley. You were barely ever here before that either.”

The words cut deep, but Bradley nodded, accepting them for what they were. He wasn’t Daniel. He couldn’t replace his brother, no matter how hard he tried. But he could be there for the family Daniel had left behind.

“I know,” Bradley said quietly. “But I’m still here.”

Y/N finally looked up at him, her eyes red and tired. There was no fight left in her, no anger, just a raw, aching grief that mirrored his own.

“Logan asked me yesterday if his dad was a hero,” she said, her voice barely audible.

Bradley’s throat tightened. “What did you say?”

She swallowed hard, her gaze dropping to the floor. “I didn’t know what to say. Fourteen times in my life I accused pilots of doing something wrong but never Daniel. I just told him… I told him his dad loved him. That was all I could get out.”

Bradley nodded slowly, his chest aching with a familiar sense of loss. “It’s enough. Logan doesn’t need the details. He just needs to know that his dad loved him. That’s what matters.”

Y/N’s eyes met his again, and for the first time since Daniel’s death, there was something other than anger or numbness there. Maybe it was acceptance. Maybe it was just exhaustion. But she didn’t push him away this time.

“I don’t know how to do this,” she admitted quietly.

“You don’t have to figure it all out today,” Bradley replied. “Just take it one day at a time. I’ll be here. For whatever you need.”

Y/N nodded, her shoulders slumping as the weight of it all threatened to overwhelm her again. But this time, Bradley was there, standing beside her, ready to catch her if she fell.

And maybe, just maybe, that was enough for now.

-----

Four years had passed since Daniel’s death, and life had moved on, even if it still carried the scars of that day. Y/N had thrown herself into her work, rising through the ranks until she became a detective, often working with specialized units like CSI. Her job demanded precision, focus, and a cool head under pressure—traits she’d developed while learning to balance being a widow and a mother to two boys.

It was 6:00 AM, and the alarm blared from her phone. Y/N groaned, stretching in her bed before she turned it off and rubbed her eyes. Another day, another case to solve. She threw the covers off and padded to the bathroom.

Standing in front of the mirror, she stared at herself. She turned on the faucet and grabbed her toothbrush, squeezing a small amount of minty toothpaste onto the bristles. The rhythmic motion of brushing her teeth was oddly soothing, a routine that anchored her at the start of each day. She brushed methodically, starting from the back molars, working her way to the front, the fresh taste of mint chasing away the dregs of sleep. After rinsing, she ran her tongue over her teeth, appreciating the smooth, clean feeling.

Next, she grabbed her brush and began working through her hair. Her hair had grown longer than she usually kept it, but she liked the way it looked now—professional but still a little wild. She worked through a few tangles, brushing from the roots to the ends until her hair was soft and smooth. She tied it back into a sleek ponytail, the style that was both functional and neat for her long days on the job.

Returning to the bedroom, Y/N opened her closet. She ran her fingers over the hangers, choosing a black tailored blazer and matching pants. A crisp white blouse underneath kept the look sharp but professional. Sliding the pants on first, she tucked in her blouse and fastened the blazer, making sure everything sat perfectly. She moved over to the full-length mirror by the closet door, adjusting her collar and sleeves. Her badge was clipped to the belt, a constant reminder of the responsibility she carried.

Finally, she walked over to the small safe tucked discreetly in her nightstand drawer. She spun the dial, opening the metal door with a quiet click. Inside sat her standard-issue Glock. The cold metal felt familiar in her hand as she checked it over, ensuring it was loaded and ready. She slipped the gun into its holster at her side, concealed beneath her blazer. One last glance in the mirror—she looked like a detective ready to take on whatever the day threw at her.

But before she could leave the house, there was one more challenge: waking up her boys.

Y/N headed down the hall to Logan’s room. At eleven, Logan was already turning into a miniature version of his father. He had Daniel’s stubbornness, for sure, and waking him up in the morning had become something of a battle over the years.

She knocked gently on the door. “Logan, it’s time to get up.”

There was no response. She sighed, opening the door and stepping into the room. Logan was buried under his blankets, only the top of his messy brown hair visible. His room was a mess, toys and clothes scattered across the floor, his desk cluttered with books and school papers.

“Logan,” Y/N said again, this time with more authority. “Get up. You’ve got school.”

A muffled groan came from beneath the blankets. “Five more minutes,” he mumbled.

Y/N smirked, walking over to the bed and gently pulling the covers down. Logan blinked up at her, his face creased from the pillow, eyes squinting in the early morning light.

“You said that yesterday,” she said, tapping his shoulder. “Come on. You don’t want to miss the bus.”

Logan groaned again, rolling over onto his back. “I’m not a morning person, Mom. You know that.”

“I do know that,” Y/N replied, crossing her arms. “But it doesn’t change the fact that you have to get up. Now.”

With a dramatic sigh, Logan finally sat up, rubbing his eyes. He stretched, his arms reaching above his head, and yawned loudly. “Fine, fine. I’m up.”

“Good,” Y/N said, walking back to the door. “Get dressed. Breakfast is in ten minutes.”

Logan gave a half-hearted nod, already shuffling towards his closet as Y/N left the room, leaving him to his slow morning routine.

Next was Keith. At five years old, he was still small and full of energy, but mornings weren’t his strong suit either. Y/N stepped into his room, where Keith was curled up in his bed, clutching his favourite stuffed animal—a well-worn bear named Buddy.

“Keith, time to wake up,” she said softly, kneeling beside his bed.

Keith stirred, his big brown eyes fluttering open as he looked up at her. He yawned, stretching his tiny arms out as he rubbed at his eyes. “Morning, Mama.”

“Good morning, sweetheart,” Y/N said with a smile. “Let’s get you ready for school, okay?”

Keith nodded sleepily, still half-asleep as Y/N helped him sit up. She pulled out a pair of pants and a T-shirt from his dresser, guiding him through getting dressed. His little fingers fumbled with the shirt buttons, so she crouched down and helped him fasten them.

Once he was dressed, she scooped him up and carried him to the bathroom, setting him down gently on the step stool by the sink. Keith blinked blearily as Y/N handed him his toothbrush, squeezing a bit of kid-friendly toothpaste onto the bristles.

“Here you go, buddy. Let’s brush those teeth.”

Keith obediently brushed, though his movements were slow and clumsy. Y/N kept a watchful eye, making sure he didn’t miss any spots. Once they were done, she wiped his mouth with a washcloth and gave him a quick kiss on the forehead.

“All set, champ. You’re ready for the day.”

Keith smiled, still a little groggy but looking more awake now. He reached for her hand as they left the bathroom, heading downstairs to join Logan for breakfast.

Y/N leaned against the kitchen counter, sipping her coffee and watching as her boys sat at the table. It was a non-uniform day at their school, which always meant a little more chaos in the morning, especially with Keith's boundless energy. The five-year-old was practically vibrating in his seat, bouncing up and down as he eagerly shovelled toast into his mouth.

"Keith, slow down," Logan said in a calm but firm voice, his tone carrying the weight of someone much older. At eleven, Logan had always been the quieter, more serious one—a reflection of his father in so many ways. While his younger brother practically buzzed with energy, Logan was a calm presence, though he often seemed like he was carrying the weight of the world on his small shoulders. she told Bradley everything would ruin him.

Keith barely paid attention, his legs swinging wildly under the table. “But it’s a non-uniform day! We don’t have to wear the stupid ties and stuff! And we’re bringing money to school! Can we buy sweets, Mama?”

Y/N smiled at the contrast between her two boys. Keith was practically bursting with excitement, his eyes wide and full of life. Meanwhile, Logan sat quietly in front of his cereal, poking at the milk with his spoon, his face expressionless.

“I gave Logan a tenner,” Y/N said, looking at her older son. “He’ll pay for both of you.”

Logan sighed and pushed his hair back, not too thrilled about his role as the responsible older brother but accepting it with his usual calm. “I’ll take care of it,” he said in his usual, even tone. “But Keith, you’ve gotta calm down. You’re gonna knock something over.”

Keith, of course, ignored the warning. “Can we buy, like, five packs of candy, Logan? And maybe some chocolate too!”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “No. That’s not what it’s for. We’re paying for the non-uniform day, not having a candy shopping spree.”

Keith pouted dramatically, crossing his arms over his chest, but he didn’t argue back. He knew better. “Fine,” he muttered, but within seconds, he was back to fidgeting in his seat, still brimming with excitement.

Y/N shook her head in amusement. “Logan’s right. The money is for school, not to load up on sweets. But maybe I’ll get you something after school if you both behave, okay?”

Keith perked up immediately. “Okay, Mama!”

Logan merely nodded, his expression unchanging. He took a slow bite of his cereal, clearly not as enthusiastic about the day as his younger brother. Y/N knew it wasn’t just about today—Logan had always been more introspective, more serious. He carried a quiet sadness sometimes, though he didn’t like to talk about it much. She knew he missed his father, even if he didn’t say it aloud. The weight of responsibility that had fallen on his young shoulders wasn’t something a boy his age should have to deal with.

Y/N glanced at the clock on the wall, mentally going through her schedule for the day. “I’ve got to work until four today,” she said, placing her mug down on the counter. “So Penny’s going to pick you both up from school, and you’ll hang out with Amelia until I’m off. That okay with you guys?”

Keith immediately bounced in his seat again. “Yay! I love hanging out with Amelia! She’s gonna let me play her video games, right? She said she would last time!”

Logan just nodded, taking another slow bite of his cereal. “That’s fine,” he said, his tone still calm and measured. “We’ll be okay.”

Y/N walked over and ruffled Logan’s hair, earning a slight frown from him as he smoothed it back down. “I know you will. You’re always a big help with Keith.”

Keith grinned at his brother, clearly not picking up on the subtle tension in Logan’s face. “Logan’s the best!” he shouted, practically bouncing out of his chair now. “He’s gonna let me sit with him at lunch too!”

Logan sighed softly, glancing at his younger brother. “Yeah, sure. Just… calm down, okay?”

Y/N chuckled, finishing the last of her coffee before setting the cup down. She leaned against the counter, watching her boys—so different from each other, but in some ways, inseparable. Keith was a bright light, always full of energy and joy, while Logan had become her steady, serious boy, even though she wished he’d let himself be a kid more often.

“Alright, you two. Finish up your breakfast and get your shoes on. We need to leave in ten minutes,” Y/N said, gently nudging them along.

Keith practically jumped out of his chair, already halfway to the hallway to grab his sneakers, while Logan moved with his usual calm, taking his time to finish his cereal before he stood up.

Y/N glanced at Logan, her heart aching just a little as she watched him. “Logan,” she said softly, causing him to pause and look up at her. “You don’t always have to be the grown-up, you know. It’s okay to just… be a kid.”

Logan shrugged, his eyes dropping to the floor. “I know,” he said, but there was a distance in his voice, like he wasn’t quite convinced.

Y/N sighed softly, resisting the urge to push further. Logan was like that—quiet, introspective. He’d open up when he was ready, and she’d be there when he did.

“Alright, let’s go,” she said with a smile, trying to lighten the mood. “Non-uniform day and no rushing. It’s a good start to the day, don’t you think?”

Logan gave a small, barely noticeable nod, and together they all headed out the door, Keith still chattering excitedly about his plans for the day while Logan walked quietly beside him, always the calm to his little brother’s storm.

---

Y/N had barely finished her second cup of coffee when her phone buzzed with a new case. She was standing in the precinct’s break room, chatting with her rookie partner, Officer Miles Daniels, when her phone went off. Glancing at the screen, her stomach sank as she read the details. A crash at Top Gun—the United States Navy Fighter Weapons School.

“Miles, grab your gear,” Y/N called over her shoulder as she quickly gathered her things. “We’ve got a case. We’re heading to Top Gun.”

Miles raised an eyebrow, still fresh-faced and eager after joining the detective unit, but he moved quickly, following her lead. “Top Gun? Isn’t that, like, military?”

“Yeah, it is,” Y/N responded, slipping her badge and gun into place as they made their way out of the precinct. “But if there’s civilian criminal activity involved, or something suspicious, we get pulled in. Plus, this isn’t just a crash—it’s a potential aircraft destruction case.”

As they made the short drive to the base, Y/N filled Miles in on what they were walking into. The pilot was in stable condition, but there was suspicion that the crash wasn’t just an accident. With a $15 million aircraft destroyed, the stakes were high.

When they arrived at the Naval base, the military security waved them through after checking their credentials. Y/N parked the car outside the main lobby of the base, and the two of them stepped out into the bright morning sun. The sprawling complex of hangars, runways, and state-of-the-art fighter jets stretched out in front of them.

Inside the lobby, they were met by Sergeant Tim Bradford, a stoic and no-nonsense detective who had recently transferred from LAPD to work more closely with specialized cases involving military personnel. Y/N had worked with him on a couple of cases before. He was tough, by the book, and not someone to mess with.

“Bradford,” Y/N greeted him with a nod as she and Miles approached.

“Detective Y/L/N,” Bradford replied, giving her a quick, respectful nod. His sharp blue eyes shifted briefly to Miles, sizing him up. “This your rookie?”

“Yeah, Officer Daniels,” Y/N introduced her partner. Miles nodded politely, though he seemed slightly nervous under Bradford’s scrutinizing gaze.

“Alright,” Bradford said, moving straight to business. “Here’s what we know: A pilot, callsign ‘Raptor,’ nosedived his F/A-18 Super Hornet straight into the runway early this morning. He’s in stable condition at the hospital, but that jet? It’s totalled—$15 million down the drain. The Navy’s doing their own investigation, but we’ve been brought in to determine if this was an intentional act or negligence.”

Y/N’s brow furrowed as she listened. “Any indication so far that it was deliberate?”

Bradford shook his head. “Not yet. The pilot claims he lost control, but there’s speculation he might have been pushed into it—pressure from his CO, maybe. And if we find anything that points to foul play, the Navy’s going to press charges for destruction of government property. That’s where we come in.”

Y/N nodded, exchanging a glance with Miles, who was taking everything in, trying to piece it all together. “Alright,” she said. “Let’s get to the crash site.”

As they made their way across the base toward the crash site, Y/N kept her eyes sharp. The walk was long, but it gave her a chance to mentally prepare. Aircraft crashes weren’t her usual territory, but the stakes were high, and she was used to pressure.

“I read up on the case file on the way here,” Miles said as they walked. “The pilot’s got a clean record—nothing disciplinary, no indication he’d do something like this on purpose.”

“Keep that in mind, but don’t jump to conclusions,” Y/N replied, her tone firm but patient. “We’re here to look at the evidence, not get caught up in speculation.”

As they neared the crash site, the wreckage of the once sleek fighter jet came into view. The front of the aircraft was crumpled, its nose smashed into the runway with debris scattered all around. Military personnel were already on the scene, cordoning off the area, but the sheer destruction was undeniable.

Y/N knelt down near the wreckage, scanning the area. The nose of the plane was completely destroyed, and the force of the impact had created deep cracks in the runway. It was clear that this hadn’t been a controlled landing.

“Jesus,” Miles muttered under his breath, his eyes wide as he looked over the wreckage.

“Yeah,” Y/N agreed grimly, standing up. “This wasn’t a small mistake.”

She turned to Bradford. “Have they ruled out mechanical failure?”

“They’re working on it,” Bradford said, crossing his arms as he surveyed the scene. “But so far, nothing obvious. It’s more likely a pilot error, but the pilot swears he was fully in control before the nosedive.”

Y/N nodded thoughtfully, walking around the wreckage. Her mind worked quickly, analysing the scene, looking for anything that didn’t quite fit. “We’ll need to talk to the ground crew who prepped the plane and the other pilots who were flying with him,” she said, glancing at Miles. “Something doesn’t add up here.”

Bradford nodded. “Already got the names. Ground crew’s being interviewed, and the flight team’s in the ready room waiting for you.”

Y/N exchanged a look with Miles. “Let’s get to it. The faster we figure out what happened here, the better.”

As Y/N and Miles made their way toward the hangar, they passed a group of aviators, all wearing their flight suits and looking equally serious and exhausted. Among them, a familiar face caught Y/N’s eye. The short moustache, the tousled sandy hair, and that unmistakable stance—it was Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat for a moment. She hadn’t seen Bradley in years, not since Daniel’s funeral. He looked older now, more worn by the weight of life, but still very much the kid brother of her late husband. Her heart squeezed at the sight of him, a wave of memories flooding back.

“Bradley?” she called out, her voice hesitant but filled with recognition.

Bradley turned at the sound of his name, his eyes widening as he saw her. “Y/N?” he said, a mix of surprise and relief crossing his face. “I can’t believe it. What are you doing here?”

They approached each other, and Y/N gave him a warm smile. “Detective now,” she explained, gesturing to her badge. “Working a case on base.”

Rooster gave a small smile, his eyes softening with a mix of nostalgia and respect. “It’s been a while.”

“Too long,” Y/N replied, though the weight of that statement hung between them. The unspoken grief over Daniel was still there, lingering in the air. But this wasn’t the time or place for a deep conversation about the past.

Bradley shook his head, a half-smirk playing on his lips. “I should’ve known you’d end up kicking ass as a detective.”

Y/N chuckled softly. “I try. And you—you’re an instructor now, huh? Flying with the best of the best?”

Bradley nodded. “Yeah, something like that. Let me introduce you to my wingman.” He turned, motioning toward a tall, confident-looking man standing a few feet away. “This is Lieutenant Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin.”

Jake stepped forward, offering a charming grin that seemed to light up his entire face. “Pleasure to meet you, Detective Y/L/N. Heard a lot about you,” he said smoothly, extending his hand.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, taking his hand and giving it a firm shake. Jake’s grip was strong, but not overbearing. There was something about his demeanour—equal parts charm and arrogance—that made her feel like she needed to stay on her toes around him. He had that aura, the kind of guy who was used to turning heads and getting what he wanted.

“I hope it was all good things,” Y/N replied, her tone lightly teasing.

“All good,” Jake said with a wink, his southern drawl coming through in a way that made his words linger just a little too long. “Rooster’s mentioned how tough you are. Seems like you two go way back.”

“We do,” Y/N confirmed, glancing at Rooster with a fond smile. “Family.”

There was a pause as the moment settled between them, and then Jake spoke up again. “So, what brings you to our little corner of the sky? I assume it’s not just a social visit.”

Y/N shifted back into professional mode, nodding. “We’re investigating the crash. The pilot—‘Raptor,’ I believe—is in stable condition, but there’s a possibility this wasn’t just pilot error. We need to determine if this was deliberate or negligence. My job is to figure out what went wrong and, if necessary, who’s responsible.”

Rooster exchanged a look with Jake, both of them clearly intrigued but also guarded. “We’re the instructors for this group,” Bradley said. “But we don’t know much beyond that. Raptor’s a good pilot—this isn’t something you’d expect from him.”

Jake nodded in agreement. “Yeah, kid’s sharp. Cocky, sure, but we’ve all been there. He’s not the kind to pull a stunt like this unless something went wrong.”

Y/N folded her arms, considering their words. “So no inside information? Nothing unusual in his behaviour or flight patterns before the crash?”

Both men shook their heads. “No,” Rooster replied. “Everything seemed normal during the briefing and take-off. Whatever happened, it must’ve been in the air.”

“Or in his head,” Jake added, his expression thoughtful. “Sometimes it’s hard to tell what’s going on up there, even with the best pilots.”

Y/N nodded, appreciating their input. “Alright, well, here’s what we’ve got so far,” she said, launching into a detailed explanation.

“The crash happened early this morning. Raptor nosedived into the runway, and while he’s alive, the aircraft is totalled. The Navy’s investigating the mechanical side, but they want us to assess whether there was any human interference—either pressure from above, negligence, or if this was intentional. The stakes are high. A $15 million jet destroyed can’t just be written off as an accident without a full inquiry. We’re looking into everything: the ground crew, flight logs, maintenance records, and Raptor’s personal state of mind.”

Bradley listened intently, his arms crossed over his chest, while Jake’s eyes narrowed, taking it all in. “That’s serious,” Rooster finally said, his voice low. “If there’s any suspicion of intentional sabotage or negligence, he’s looking at major charges.”

“Exactly,” Y/N agreed. “We’re trying to avoid that if it’s not warranted, but we need to be thorough.”

Jake leaned against the side of a nearby truck, his expression a mix of intrigue and something close to admiration. “Well, Detective, you’ve got your work cut out for you. Anything we can do to help?”

Y/N smiled at him, though her mind was already racing with the possibilities. “Just stay close in case we need anything. I might need to talk to the other pilots too.”

Rooster nodded. “We’ll be around. And hey, it’s good to see you again, Y/N.”

“You too, Bradley,” she replied softly before glancing back at Jake, who gave her one last charming grin as they walked away.

“Don’t be a stranger, Detective,” Jake called after her with a wink.

---

The four-hour mark at the crash site. The long day was wearing on both of them, but Y/N was no stranger to gruelling hours. She had spent countless days on crime scenes, sifting through endless evidence, and poring over tiny details that could make or break a case. Yet, this one seemed different—something about it felt dead in the water.

They had examined the wreckage from every angle, spoken to the ground crew, double-checked the maintenance logs, and even consulted with the flight team. But nothing substantial had emerged to indicate foul play. It seemed more and more like a tragic case of pilot error, despite the nagging feeling in Y/N’s gut that something wasn’t right.

She straightened up from where she had been crouching near the debris, wiping her hands on her jeans and squinting in the fading light. Miles walked over, notebook in hand, looking exhausted but still eager.

“What do you think, Detective?” Miles asked, his voice quieter than usual, likely from the hours of tension.

Y/N sighed, her eyes scanning the crumpled remains of the jet one last time. “I think this is a dead case for us,” she admitted reluctantly. “There’s no solid evidence of foul play, no suspicious activity leading up to the crash. It’s looking more like a tragic mistake than anything else.”

Miles nodded slowly, clearly taking her lead, though he looked a little deflated. “So, we’re calling it?”

“We’ll let the Navy finish their mechanical investigation, but as far as our end goes, yeah, I’m calling it,” Y/N said, her tone final but not unkind. “You did good today, Miles. I know it’s not the ending we were hoping for, but sometimes cases just don’t pan out the way you think they will.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, scratching the back of his neck. “I get it. But it’s frustrating.”

“It is,” she said, giving him a small smile. “But that’s part of the job. Let’s head back. I’ll debrief with Rooster and Hangman, and we’ll wrap this up.”

Together, they made their way back toward where Rooster and Hangman had been waiting by the hangar. Y/N could see them leaning against the side of a truck, deep in conversation. When they saw her and Miles approaching, Rooster straightened up, his expression expectant.

“How’s it looking?” Rooster asked, his tone hopeful but cautious.

Y/N shook her head. “Not much to go on. I’m calling it a dead case for us. The Navy can finish their investigation, but we haven’t found anything that suggests sabotage or intentional destruction.”

Rooster sighed softly, nodding in understanding. “Alright, thanks for looking into it anyway. I know Raptor’s not going to be thrilled, but it’s better than a criminal charge hanging over his head.”

At that moment, Miles stepped forward, looking a little nervous but determined. “Actually, Lieutenant Bradshaw, I still have a few more questions for you—just to tie up some loose ends.”

Rooster raised an eyebrow but gave a nod, turning his attention fully to Miles. “Sure thing, Officer. What do you need?”

As Rooster and Miles moved off to the side, Y/N turned to see Jake “Hangman” Seresin watching her with that signature grin plastered across his face. His charm seemed almost effortless, like it was second nature to him.

“Well, Detective,” Hangman said, pushing off from the truck and sauntering over to her with a slight swagger. “Since Rooster’s busy, how about I walk you to your car? It’s the least I can do after you’ve been out here all day in the sun.”

Y/N chuckled, feeling the tension in her shoulders begin to ease for the first time in hours. There was something disarming about Hangman’s confidence. Normally, she would’ve felt guarded, maybe even slightly intimidated by a guy like him. But right now? For the first time in a long time, she didn’t feel that way.

“Sure,” she said with a smirk. “I wouldn’t mind the company.”

They began walking across the tarmac together, the gentle evening breeze cooling the hot air from the long day. Hangman kept pace beside her, his hands tucked casually into his flight suit pockets, his easy smile never faltering.

“So,” he began, his tone light, “you’re telling me that after spending four hours out here investigating a crash and coming up empty, you still manage to look this good? I’ve got to say, I’m impressed.”

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully, though she couldn’t help but smile. “Is that your best line, Lieutenant? You’re going to have to try harder than that.”

“Maybe,” Hangman drawled, his Texas accent coming through thick. “But I figure, why mess with what works?”

Y/N shook her head, but she was still smiling. “Is this how you charm all the women you meet?”

He gave her a faux-hurt expression. “Not all the women, Detective. Just the ones who look like they could outsmart me and outshoot me in the same day.”

Y/N laughed, a real laugh, and she realized how rare that had become. Jake was flirty, sure, but in a way that wasn’t overbearing or disrespectful. He wasn’t pushing boundaries—just toeing the line, making her feel lighter after such a long, draining day.

As they reached her car, she stopped, turning to face him. Hangman looked down at her with a playful spark in his eyes, clearly not ready to let the moment end.

“Well, thanks for the escort, Lieutenant Seresin,” Y/N said, her voice softer now. She reached into her pocket and pulled out her work card, handing it to him. “Here. This has my number on it—in case you ever feel like texting. I’m… open to it.”

For a moment, Jake looked surprised, but that charming smile returned quickly as he took the card from her hand. His fingers brushed hers lightly, sending a small spark up her arm. “Now, that’s an offer I won’t pass up,” he said smoothly, tucking the card into his pocket. “You can expect a text soon, Detective. Count on it.”

Y/N felt a strange flutter in her chest as she smiled at him one last time, sliding into her car. As she closed the door and started the engine, Jake stepped back, giving her a two-finger salute before watching her drive away.

For the first time in years, the idea of someone flirting with her didn’t make her feel guarded or anxious. Instead, it felt… nice. Maybe it was Hangman’s easy-going confidence, or maybe it was just time for her to feel something other than the weight of responsibility. Either way, she wasn’t opposed to seeing where things might lead.

As she drove away from the base, Y/N glanced at her phone in the cup holder. And for the first time in a long while, she found herself hoping that a certain charming fighter pilot would follow through on his promise.

[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 20 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: It was killing Bradley that you thought he was sneaking around behind your back. There was nobody else for him except his Princess, but he'd run out of chances with you. When you decide to go out for the night to blow off some steam, you end up drunk with a ripped dress and nobody to turn to.

Warnings: Angst, swearing, drinking, non consensual touching, and age gap (18+)

Length: 5300 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more!

Bradley was calling out for you and Noah, but you were crying in earnest now as he stormed around his house looking for you. Noah seemed to be all cried out, but your tears were showing now signs of stopping.

"Princess!" he shouted, and when he entered the bathroom, he asked, "Baby, what's going on?"

Noah was calling out for him, but you were so angry, you couldn't contain yourself. "I can't believe you lied to me again," you managed to say. "I can't believe I let you lie to me again." 

You'd given him a second chance, but you never should have. Because now you were in love with both of them, and this hurt so much more than it would have if you had walked away after Noah's birthday party. 

You pushed his hand away when he reached for you.

"Princess, Baby, I can explain. I swear, nothing is going on."

You shook your head and wiped your tears away, because Noah was the most important thing at the moment. "He has a fever," you whispered, refusing to meet Bradley's eyes. "He's been crying for you, and I can't find a thermometer. I gave him some Tylenol." 

When Bradley looked past you to his son, you ducked out into the hallway. But before you could really go anywhere, Bradley's big hand had you by the waist.

"We need to talk," he rasped softly, pulling you a little closer.

"There's nothing to talk about," you replied, finally looking up at him. "You lied to me. Again. You told me I meant something to you. You said there was nobody else." Your voice was barely a whisper as you watched his face. How he managed to look so sincere while he lied was beyond your comprehension.

"It's not like that. Nothing is going on. I promise, Princess," he said, voice steady and eyes unwavering. "There's only you."

You wanted more than anything to believe him. You wanted to end this night in his arms. You started to melt into his touch, practically begging for him to explain this to you, but then movement caught your eye. When you glanced into the living room, there was another woman standing next to the couch, holding a bouquet of beautiful flowers.

You had to press your lips together for a few seconds until you had yourself under control. Then you looked Bradley in the eye and said, "Fuck you."

Quickly, you spun out of his grasp and ran back to the bathtub where Noah was still sitting. As you knelt down on the mat, he reached out for you. You knew you weren't going to be able to see him again.

"Sweet Noah," you whispered as you wrapped your arms around him. You kissed his forehead a few times while you sobbed, and he got your shirt all wet. "You'll feel better by tomorrow, I'm sure. Your dad will take care of you, okay?"

"Okay," he said, his voice soft and sleepy.

You could barely see him through your tears as you kissed his cheek and told him, "I love you."

Then you were back on your feet and shoving Bradley out of the way. But he followed you out into the living room where the woman you assumed was Helen stood with her pretty flowers and her tiny dress. You glared at her as she smiled at you when you reached for your tote bag.

"Princess, please, just let me explain!" Bradley was begging now. He could beg all night long, but it didn't mean you had to stay and listen to it this time. You'd found his begging routine so sexy before. But now he could fucking beg Helen for all you cared.

You wrenched open his front door before you turned back and hissed, "Leave me alone. Lose my number. And go take care of Noah." 

But he followed you out to your car, right at your heels. "Baby, it's all a misunderstanding. Please! I need you!"

"What do you need me for? An easy lay?" you asked as you practically dove for your car. "I don't have anything Helen doesn't have."

"Listen to me!"

"No!" you shouted. "Go take care of Noah!"

And then you climbed into your car and pulled out of his driveway as Bradley stood there with his hands raking through his hair. And you made it to the end of his block before your body was shaking as you cried. 

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

Bradley watched you drive away from him, still in shock over everything that was happening right now. He reached for his car keys in his pocket, but your words started to penetrate his brain. 

"Shit," he groaned, running back up to the front door. According to you, Noah had a fever, and he couldn't just leave him alone. Bradley sprinted past Helen and back into the bathroom where Noah was sitting in the tub.

"Come here, bub," Bradley whispered, scooping him out and wrapping him up tight in a towel. "Are you okay?"

"Where did she go?" Noah asked, eyes wide and concerned. "I want her to come rub my back."

Bradley swallowed hard. "She left."

Noah burst into tears as Bradley held him tight. "I want Princess! I want her to be my mommy!"

Bradley could barely breathe as he crossed the hall to Noah's bedroom. He knew how attached his son had become to you. Noah loved you. And he knew you loved Noah. That feeling was overpowering for Bradley, too. When he said he needed you, he meant it. His heart was demanding he be near you.

He froze just outside Noah's bedroom door before turning to the living room. Helen looked at him like the picture of innocence, clutching your flowers in front of her. 

Bradley's voice shook with a combination of sadness and rage. "Helen. You need to leave."

She looked at Noah all bundled in a towel and then back to Bradley. "Can't you drive me home?"

"No," he replied immediately, his voice now rough with unshed tears. "You need to be gone by the time I walk back out here. And leave the flowers."

He turned and took Noah into his bedroom and gently changed him into some pajamas. When Bradley kissed his forehead, he could tell Noah still had a slight fever, but the Tylenol must have helped. "Snuggle in under the covers," he whispered before heading for his own bedroom where the thermometer was. He took it back to Noah and found that he had a low fever. 

But Noah was already dozing off. It was late now, and as soon as Bradley was walking into the hallway, he reached for his phone. He tapped on Babysitter in his contacts, wishing he'd changed it to your name before Helen saw it at the restaurant. 

Thankfully, when he looked around the living room and kitchen, Helen appeared to be gone. He groaned as your phone rang until it took him to your voicemail message. The sound of your voice telling him to leave you a message had him sinking down onto the couch next to the bouquet of flowers that were meant for you.

"Princess, please. Please call me back. Nothing is going on with Helen. Nothing is going on with anyone. There's just you. I didn't know she was going to be at the restaurant tonight," he said, pausing before he softly added, "and these flowers are for you. Please."

Then he ended the call and let his phone drop to the floor. He just looked at it on his area rug. He knew he had been on his very last chance with you. You were kind and generous, and he wasn't even sure he deserved as much as you were giving him. But nothing was going on with Helen. You owned his heart.

His gaze was transfixed on his phone screen, praying he'd see it light up. But he got nothing. Eventually he stood and picked it up, trying your phone again and again, leaving you more voicemail messages. He couldn't even keep track of what he was saying to you, only certain that he was begging you to call him back. And then your inbox was full. So he texted you while he walked into his bedroom and collapsed on his bed. And there hung your purple crown on his bedpost.

When he finally fell asleep in his clothes, he'd heard nothing from you, and he was afraid he never would.

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

When you got home, you got right in the shower, needing to scrub the disgusting feeling from your skin. Bradley was a liar. Your hands were shaking as you tried to wash yourself. You were in love with a man who lied to you. And you were in love with his sweet son, too. You loved how it felt being at their house. You loved his stupid mugs and his coffee maker and when he bought fancy creamer for you. You loved making construction paper crowns and eating popcorn. You loved how it felt like Bradley was making love to you when you and he were on his living room floor.

You'd probably never stop crying. What was wrong with you? He was twelve years older and clearly emotionally unavailable. He was a mess, fighting for custody of his child. He was a walking red flag. And you still loved him.

When you plugged your phone in to charge it, you had to put it on the Do Not Disturb setting, because Bradley couldn't take a hint. You were not ready to talk to him right now. You might never be. 

Once you managed to sleep, your dreams were consumed by him. You could still hear his voice and feel his body heat when you woke up in bed alone. And you were just as angry with yourself the next morning. You should have been smart enough to keep all of your feelings at surface level. Then you could have enjoyed a physical relationship with Bradley until he found someone else to mess with on the dating app. Wasn't that what he seemed to want from the beginning? When he'd kissed you when he was drunk? When you gave him a blowjob on his couch? 

But you had to go ahead and want him all to yourself. You wanted the coffee cups with Princess scrawled across them. You wanted to feel his lips on your fingers while you fed him Skittles. You wanted his body weight pressed against you and his mouth on your skin. You wanted him to beg for you. 

You cried as you brushed your teeth and changed into your scrubs for class. When you picked up your phone, you were tempted to switch it out of Do Not Disturb mode, but you were too afraid to see if he was still trying to text or call. You weren't sure if you wanted him to or not. It didn't matter. You were so close to graduating. You could spend all of your time focusing on your final few assignments and then job hunting. You didn't even need to stay in San Diego. You could go anywhere. And then you cried some more as you tried to drink your shitty coffee, because you remembered you wouldn't be seeing Noah anymore. 

"Fuck," you sobbed, trying to wipe away your tears as you packed up your tote bag for class. And there was Bradley's house key that he had insisted you take again last night. Why the hell did he bother giving that back to you when he was messing around with someone else? And why did you agree to wait for him in the first place? There had never been an official label on whatever you and he were, so you really had no right to be this upset.

You put your textbooks in your bag without bothering to remove the key. You just didn't even want to touch it. And then you opened your front door to leave for campus. And there he stood.

"Princess."

Without meeting his eyes, you kept your chin held high. You squeezed out onto your small porch and locked your front door, fighting hard to keep the tears at bay. 

"Baby."

Then you reached into your tote bag until your fingers found his house key. You held it out to him, but he didn't take it. Then you noticed that the pretty bouquet of flowers you had seen last night was in his hand. 

"I don't need this anymore," you said as loudly as you could. Your voice was shaking, and you sounded like a child. He didn't take the key. "Take it!"

"That's yours. I don't want it back," he said, deep voice steady as you met his eyes. "I want you to keep using it."

Tears fell from your eyes as you spat, "For what? So I can walk in on you and Helen? How many others are there?"

"There's just you." He'd been saying that since last night. "There's only ever going to be you. Please, Princess. Just hear me out, baby."

But you cut him off and headed to your car. "I would have waited for you, no matter how long things took with Meredith. But I don't have time for this. I need to get to class."

He looked like you had hit him. "I can come back this evening," he said frantically, following right behind you. "Or you can use that key to my house and come by any time you're free. I'm begging you."

"I'm sick of your begging!" you said, no longer caring that he could see you crying. "I'm tired of your lies, too! Just take your damn key, and stay out of my life." You tossed it in the general vicinity of his chest and then heard it clatter against the pavement as you climbed into your car. 

He could stand on your sidewalk with those flowers all day long for all you cared. You drove to class and thought that perhaps you needed to find something to distract yourself for the weekend. 

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

Bradley bent to pick up his house key and took it back to your porch along with the flowers that had always been meant for you. Noah's fever had broken overnight, and after dropping him off at daycare, Bradley drove right to you. He didn't stop for coffee. He wasn't going to stop for anything. 

You thought he wanted Helen. The idea of it made him sick. He knew what you must be thinking right now. He'd made so many promises to you. Small ones and big ones. He told you he wanted you to feed him Skittles. He told you he wanted to be with you. He'd said everything in between. 

He set the flowers down on your mat along with the key. And then he prayed that you'd give him even three minutes to explain himself. But he could see that from your perspective, he probably didn't even deserve that.

"Fuck," he muttered, raking his fingers through his hair as he walked back to the Bronco. He needed to get to work. 

Upon arriving, he walked right over to Nat. "Why do you look like that?" she asked cautiously. "You were happy when I saw you last night. Did you see Meredith again?"

Bradley started laughing which made her look at him with even more concern. "I fucking wish, Nat. I wish that was all that I was dealing with right now."

"I literally saw you like twelve hours ago!" she said with alarm. And her eyes grew wide as Bradley told her about Helen waiting for him at the restaurant. "Penny had no right to do that to you! I'd be pissed too!"

"Oh, that's not even half of it." 

When he told her all about Noah and you and how it looked like he was sneaking around behind your back, Nat gasped. "No! But you love her. You would never."

He pressed his lips together and looked down at his boots. "Yeah, well... it certainly looks like that's what I was doing. And she's never going to forgive me now. Not after the last time when I tried to cut her off."

"Bradley," Nat said, patting his chest. 

"I went to her place this morning, after I dropped Noah off. She won't listen to anything I have to say." He could hear Maverick calling for them to head to their aircrafts. "She wants no part of me now."

Nat grabbed her helmet and his. "She probably just needs a day to cool off. Give her some time, and I think she'll listen to you." 

She handed his helmet to him, but Bradley stood in the hangar alone for a minute after everyone else cleared out. The last thing he wanted at the moment was to have to talk to Jake or anybody else. Like a dumbass, he checked his phone to see if you had texted him. Of course there was nothing. So he headed to his Super Hornet and ended up flying like shit.

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

After class on Friday, you went right home. A few of your friends had asked if you had any weekend plans. You tentatively told them that you were free, and they invited you to an off campus frat party Saturday night. But it was at a house that was associated with Greyson's fraternity. And you were a grad student now. And it wasn't really your scene. 

But you needed to keep yourself occupied. "Sure," you said eventually, agreeing to let your friend Lexi and her boyfriend give you a ride. At least this way, you could have a few drinks and know you'd have a reliable ride home. 

When you pulled down your street, you half expected to see the Bronco in front of your house. You weren't sure if you were relieved or upset by its absence. "You're pathetic," you whispered as you parked your car. Bradley's house key and those stupid flowers were waiting for you. He made it so you couldn't even get into your house without a physical reminder of what he did.

You kind of wanted to hear him out. Listen to the dumb excuse he made up. So you went inside with the flowers and the key and sat at your kitchen table. You read all of the texts he'd sent you. He must have had his phone on him all day at work, pleading with you to let him stop over, asking for three minutes of your time. Then you listened to the voicemails. And you really shouldn't have. Because that man's voice was like a weapon. It struck you so hard, you had to delete them before they made you feel any weaker. 

And then he called again while you were trying to delete the messages, and you almost accidentally answered his call. You'd had enough. You could no longer tell if you were more angry or hurt, so you went upstairs, took a bath and then got in bed for the night. 

But the texts and calls didn't stop. He was still contacting you on Saturday. You spent hours getting ready to go out to the house party, and even you thought you looked pretty flawless. But there were more texts from Bradley, so you finally wrote back to him. 

Please stop.

And then he did. You got in the back seat of the car when Lexi and Scott picked you up. And you rode all the way to the party with a phone that was finally silent. 

But the party was so loud, you regretted going as soon as you showed up. And you could feel eyes on you, on the bare skin of your legs. Your dress was short, one you had been saving to wear to Bradley's house. One you had hoped he would have been taking off of you. 

Then you saw Greyson, and his eyes were already on your body. You knew there was a good chance he'd be here tonight, surrounded by his idiot friends. And then it struck you how much you preferred spending time with Bradley and Noah, making dinner and coloring, listening to playlists and eating Skittles. 

"Hey," you managed to say when he made his way over to you. Silently you wondered if Bradley ever returned that hoodie to him. 

"What's up?" Greyson replied, licking his lips and letting his eyes dip down to your chest. "I'm surprised you're here."

"Me too, honestly," you muttered, knowing he probably wouldn't be able to hear you over the music. 

"Want a drink?" he asked as his friends made their way over to you. 

"I can get it myself," you replied, squeezing through the crowd toward the kitchen and the kegs. You poured yourself a beer as Greyson's friend Ryan bumped into you. When his hand lingered on your waist, you knew it was intentional.

"Hey, sorry about that," he said with an obnoxious laugh. He was huge. Almost as big as Bradley. If he kept working out, he'd get there someday. But you'd never liked him.

"No problem," you said, scooting out of the way, wondering where Lexi had gone. You circled back through the living room and ran into her and a few other nursing majors you knew from your classes. They all seemed surprised to see you, and you realized they must come here every Saturday.

You chugged your beer so you didn't have to interact much. Somehow you felt above all of this. Like your time spent watching Noah made you want to be here even less than before. You were already uncomfortable, and when one of them asked if you were dating anyone, you felt tears behind your eyes. 

"No," you replied, holding your empty cup. "I haven't dated anyone since Greyson." It hurt your heart to say it out loud. "Hey, I'm going to get another beer."

The girls ended up following you to the kitchen where you chugged beer after beer and pretended to be absorbed by what they were saying. And with each passing drink, you started to feel a little calmer, a little looser. You made a few jokes about your professors, and you started to feel more comfortable. 

You were swaying on your feet a little bit, laughter bubbling out of you as you filled your cup up one more time. But Ryan was there again, and you heard someone whispering in your ear. 

"Try some of the punch." You turned to see another one of Greyson's friends. You thought his name was Ollie. 

"What's in it?" you asked him, and he smirked at you. 

But Lexi was pouring some for herself. "It's good! It's like a rum punch!"

"Okay," you mumbled, and she thrust a very full cup into your left hand. You alternated taking sips of the beer and the hot pink fruit punch. And as soon as you got to the bottom of both cups, you felt like you were on a cloud. Or maybe you were a cloud. Your body was soft. Your lips were numb. There was something you'd been trying not to think about. What was it again? Hmmm...

Oh yeah, you were trying not to think about Bradley. 

You laughed as Ryan placed his hand on your bare shoulder. "Let me refill that," he said. His voice echoed in your head, and instead of a normal response you giggled. And then you couldn't stop laughing. Because everything was funny. Lexi was sneaking off with her boyfriend, and Ollie was touching your hair. 

"Oh!" you sighed when you saw Greyson walk back into the kitchen. "I know you!"

"Jesus," he said with a laugh. "How much have you had to drink? You've only been here for like three hours."

You'd been here for three hours? It felt like thirty minutes. You opened up your little clutch and checked your phone. It was almost eleven, and you had no new texts. But your vision was a mess. You stumbled again, nearly spilling the cup of punch when Ryan handed it to you.

"I don't know," you told Greyson. "I don't know how much I've had to drink." Then you laughed some more.

He shook his head at you. "You were never this fun when we were together."

"Shut up," you told him with a soft hiccup.

"Yeah, Grey," Ollie taunted, "shut up!" You couldn't tell if he was making fun of you or making fun of Greyson. But you still found it hilarious. 

"Where did the girls go?" you asked after a minute. The room was swirling, and you thought you were alone in the kitchen with the guys, but you honestly weren't sure. Your stomach was starting to hurt from how much you'd had to drink. A few people filtered in to get more beer, and you couldn't tell if you recognized any of them or not.

"I'll go look for your friends," Ryan promised. "Just drink this while you wait." He handed you another drink, but he didn't leave. You sipped it while he watched you, and then your stomach lurched. 

Your whole body felt too hot. Suddenly your fingers could barely even hold the cup. You turned toward the guys, and it felt like you were moving in slow motion. As many times as you licked your lips, it still felt like your mouth was dry. So you sipped some more of the punch, and then you tried to hand it back to Ryan or Greyson. 

"Is it really rum?" you asked, your words unclear even to your own ears. "Did you drug me?"

There were more guys here now too. You thought. You weren't sure. Ryan exploded in loud laughter followed by Ollie.

"Listen babydoll, it's just grain alcohol. Not rum," Ryan informed you, and you desperately tried to remember how many cups you drank. That stuff was 80 proof, and now you could barely control your own body. They were all laughing at you, including Greyson as Ryan started talking again. "You think I'd waste drugs on you girls? That's hilarious. You're all easy. You all put out. I've slept with most of the girls at this party."

You couldn't swallow right. Your throat was burning with mortification as you tried to walk over to Greyson for help. But somehow you ended up with Ollie, and you weren't even in the kitchen anymore. 

"Where's Greyson?" you asked, feeling hands on your waist and your butt.

"He's right there," Ollie replied, and you turned to see Greyson dancing with someone else. "If you want some, I got weed and shit upstairs in my room."

"Grey!" you called out. He turned toward you and Ollie.

"What?" he asked over the music.

But when he came a little closer, you couldn't remember what you wanted to tell him. And then Ollie had a hand on you and Ryan had a hand on you. And then Ollie was talking to Greyson. 

"Hey, I'm going for it, man. You don't care? You still hooking up with her?" 

He was talking about you. Right in front of you. But you couldn't even tell him to stop it. You licked your lips again. So dry. You couldn't even talk as tears stung your eyes and your throat got tight. 

And then Greyson glanced at you before he said, "Nah, not anymore. I know she was fucking some older guy, but I guess he got sick of her shit too." Then he turned away from you, and you stumbled backwards. 

"Hey, it's okay, babydoll," Ollie said, guiding you closer to him. You were pressed against his body. He smelled like sweat, and you could feel that he was hard through his jeans. 

Your body wasn't working right. You tilted your head away from him, but then his mouth was on your neck and then your lips. His hand slid up to your breasts, and you wanted to die. "No," you begged. "Don't touch me."

When he reached for your shoulder and slid his fingers under the strap of your dress, you stepped back again. He ripped your dress. It was hanging awkwardly off one shoulder now, and you were holding your clutch so tight, trying not to lose your phone. 

"Don't touch me." You were met with more laughter. You wanted to throw up. "Where's the bathroom?" you asked loudly. 

"Upstairs," Ryan replied, and you raced for the steps. "I can show you."

"Don't be scared! I'll meet you in my room!" Ollie called after you. 

Bathroom. You need to find a bathroom. Then you could figure out what to do. But there were a handful of people in the hallway upstairs, and when you opened a door, you found yourself in a dark bedroom. 

"Hello?" you called out as you searched for a lightswitch. You tripped and landed hard on your knee. "Fuck." When you stood up, you found a lamp. The room was empty. Your knee was bleeding and the rip in your dress was so bad, you had to hold it in place so your breast wasn't visible. The room was spinning, and suddenly you couldn't catch your breath. You needed to get out of this house, but you didn't know what to do to make that happen. 

Then you were afraid this might be Ollie's room. The guys would come look for you. You could call Lexi. When you looked at your phone screen, all the app icons were blurred together, and you started crying. 

Bradley was at the top of your recent calls, and you let your finger tap his name as your eyes settled on the bedroom closet.

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

A day or two to calm down. That's what Nat told him you needed. But as Bradley eased himself into his bed, he had to fight the urge to text you again. You explicitly asked him to stop contacting you. He sighed and tossed his phone aside. He just wanted to see you, talk to you for a couple minutes. He missed you so much. He could explain this to you. He'd tell you how much he loved you. He'd remind you there was nobody else for him. 

The longer he spent away from you and out of contact with you, the worse he felt. It was early yesterday morning that you were yelling at him in front of your house, and with each passing hour, he was getting more desperate. 

Maybe this was it. Maybe he had run out of chances with you. You were too good for him. Too young. Too perfect. He wasn't sure he'd even be able to make you happy long term. Not as happy as you made him. But it was fucking killing him that you thought he went out on a date with another woman. 

Jake had been right the whole time; Bradley should have put you on display for the whole world to see. But now he had missed out again. Because of Meredith. Because of Helen. Because he was always hesitating. 

When his phone rang, he jolted upright in bed. 

Babysitter

You were calling him. It was you. It was nearly midnight, but it was you.

"Princess," he said as soon as he accepted the call. "Baby."

But he was met with the sound of you crying. "Bradley?" Your voice was soft, and you didn't sound quite right to him. He was up and out of the bed immediately. 

"What's wrong, Princess?" he asked, heart pounding in his chest as you continued to cry. 

"I know you're probably on a date with Helen," you said, words slurring a bit as he held the phone tight to his ear. "But I didn't know who else to call, Daddy."

"Baby. Tell me what's wrong," he demanded, his panic rising. 

When you just cried more, he could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. 

"Please come get me."

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

Hurry, Daddy! Go get your Princess! Hope you enjoy your fic, @beyondthesefourwalls And thank you @mak-32 !

PART 21

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[novelsbynia]

GEMINI:PROLOGUE

Ethan Landry X OC

Warning: blood,language,pregnancy,violence, mentions of smut.

——————————————

October 31st Halloween

"Great Job. Both of you." Bailey praised the two Ghost faces on both his right and left. "You?" Tara asked shocked. The three sisters stood there across from Bailey and the two masked figures. "Yeah. Of course me. Frankly, I expected more from the three of you after what you did to us."

"What do you mean "us"?" Scar looked at the two Ghost faces, still curious who was behind the masks. The taller Ghostface on Baileys left grabbed the bottom of their mask to slowly reveal the culprit underneath.

Scarlett's heart stopped for second and her breath hitched. Her throat felt warm and if she swallowed it could cause a breakdown. Seeing her boyfriend's face come out from under the white plastic. She started to shake her head in disbelief as Ethan shot a sadistic smile their way.

"Ta-da!" Bailey laughed looking over at the three sisters and back at his son. "No." Scarlett whispered. Sam and Tara looked over at their sister. Sam knew her pain. It's a horrible feeling knowing the person you love was the one who wants to hurt you. What they didn't know was there was more to it than their relationship now.

"Mindy was right. It was easy to juke the roommate lottery. I mean all I had to do to meet you was room with a conceited, condescending alpha literally named Chad. Fuck! It felt good to kill him! And you-" Ethan pointed his knife over to Scarlett. "You know how easy it was to make you love me." Ethan laughed causing Scarlett's heart to once again drop.

"Didn't take much after that to fuck me. Did it?" She felt sick, unfortunately for her in this situation it could be a number of things. Her eyes letting the tears escape her quietly as she stood there in disbelief as the two stood their smiling.

"Recognize this? This was your grandmother's Sam. Nancy Loomis? Really runs in your fucking family, doesn't it? Speaking of family...." Ethan pointed his knife the the beat up Ghostface mask he's been gallivanting in. "Wait for it." Bailey interrupted. ".....My names not Ethan Landry. Is it dad?"

""Dad"?" Scarlett questioned as Bailey started laughing. He brushed a piece of Ethan's hair out of his eyes then gripped his shoulder. He was proud. "Wait. If it's you two, that just leaves..." Sam Gulped before continuing. "Mindy?"

The last Ghostface lifted the mask revealing the final accomplice. "Hey, roomies. You didn't see that one coming, did you?" The three were taken back. No, no that couldn't be possible. She was dead, Quinn was dead. Scarlett took her attention away from the redhead back to her boyfriend or now ex in his dark robe. Their eyes met and Ethan shot her a smirk.

"Yeah because you died!" Tara exclaimed. "Kind of didn't. Though it was a good way to get off the suspect list. Stab Gale Weathers, stab Mindy on the train. That sort of thing." Quinn explained. "Yep, and I just made sure I was first on the scene so I could switch her body out with a fresh one. Little fake blood, a prosthetic. You'd be amazed at what a grieving father can get away with." Bailey smiled proud of his children.

"I got Stu Macher's mask. He was my favorite." Quinn held up her mask as she walked around the display cases and placed it on the mannequin head. Scarlett watched Ethan go around the display on her right and place the mask on the mannequin with Nancy Loomis's old bloody clothes.

Scarlett watched as he gave her a quick wink with his once lovable browns. Which have turned to an unrecognizable dark cold tone. "Nice. That's number three. That's two. Which leaves your father's. This is what we've been counting down to, Sam. I'm gonna need you to put it on." Bailey pulled out Billy Loomis's mask out of his jacket. Scarlett was trying to focus back and forth from Bailey back to Ethan. Who was perched over the display with hunger, ready to attack given the word.

Sam looked at the mask in Bailey's hand then back up at Bailey himself. He had to be crazy. Clearly he was Sam thought to herself. "Fuck you!" Sam spat as she knocked the mask out of Bailey's hand. Ethan quickly leaned over the display and sliced Sam's shoulder. "You stay the fuck away from them!" Scarlett yelled at Ethan as Sam held her wound. Ethan chuckled at Scarlett as he moved around the displays. Tara grabbed a brick back up from the floor ready incase she had to strike.

"What? What is this? You did this as a family?" Sam turned to Bailey as she held her bleeding shoulder. "Hell yeah, bitch. You should know better than anyone." Quinn stomped forward towards Sam but was quickly cut off by Tara and Scarlett.

"They're still not getting it." Ethan laughed as he walked over next to his sister. Knife extended ready to strike again. Scarlett looked down at his knife then back up at Ethan and Quinn. "I don't know what you believe, but I didn't commit those murders in Woodsboro. It wasn't me!" Sam tried to explain. "Oh we know that. Of course you didn't. You think this is based on some bullshit conspiracy theory? Come on. Who do you think started the rumors about you in the first place?" Bailey gestured behind Sam. Sam turned around to see Quinn holding up her hand with the knife in it.

"Do you know how easy it was to turn Sam from the hero of Woodsboro into the villain? How easy it was to convince the world to believe the worst in people rather than the best?" Quinn explained. "Because it's not enough to just kill someone these days. You have to assassinate their character first. So when Dad here "discovers" your horribly mutilated bodies..." Ethan started.

Scarlett gulped the pressure in her throat back down as she listened to Ethan talk about mutilating them. Her thoughts were paused when Quinn lunged forward a bit in front of Tara causing her to squeal. "...posed with Sam wearing her father's mask, he'll say some poor dumb bastard read on the internet that you're the real Ghostface and took matters into their own deluded hands." Ethan finished as he pointed the knife at Sam.

"Exactly! Thats why it's the perfect alibi. And all the best lies are based on the truth. You're a killer. Just like your father." Bailey pointed his finger at Sam. "No, I'm not!" Sam yelled. "Yes, you are, you motherfucker! You killed our brother!" Quinn shouted.

"What are you talking about?" Sam shook her head. "You said your brother died in a car accident." Scarlett looked at Quinn confused. "Oh no, you sweet, dumb thing. He died in Woodsboro...." Ethan pointed his knife at Scarlett then back at Sam "...at the hands of your bitch sister." Scarlett looked over at Sam and Tara who had the look of realization on their faces."You're Richie's family." Sam turned to Bailey. "Yeah." Bailey whispered as he slowly nodded.

"Ding-ding-ding-ding! She's finally starting to get it." Ethan stepped forward and plunged his knife in Sam's chest near her shoulder before quickly pulling it out. "Go! Go!" Scarlett grabbed Sam's hand as Tara followed. Scarlett pushed over the mannequin display of Nancy Loomis's mask and outfit to create an opening in the display circle that was once blocking them in.

"Now! It wasn't until I saw that photograph of what you'd actually done to him that I knew." Bailey yelled. Ethan and Quinn quickly ran around the display on either side to block off the two. Scarlett grabbed a brick off the ground. Ethan stepped towards her but quickly stepped back dodging a swing from Scarlett. "That I knew you had to fucking die! You had to be punished! Along with anyone else who stands in our way."

Sam applied pressure to her arm once more as she stepped in front of Quinn blocking her from Tara and Scarlett. Sam's eyes darkened as she looked glanced up at Quinn. "There she is. There's the fucking killer." Quinn held her knife up to Sam's throat. "Real great parenting job by the way." Scarlett snarked at Bailey. "Shut your whore fucking mouth!" Quinn yelled as she took the knife away from Sam's throat and pushed Scarlett back through the whole they created in the display ring. "Shit." Tara muttered as the two followed their sister. "You okay?" Sam helped her Scarlett up. Ethan and Quinn quickly made their way back to the sisters, holding their knives up behind them.

"Have I been a perfect Dad? No. Have I maybe overindulged Richie's love of these little movies? Yeah, maybe. For me, they're just a little dark. But Richie really loved them. He loved them! He even made a few of his own. Did you know? Did you know?" Bailey turned around to watch the projector behind them play Richie's self made Stab movie.

"There's a very special nod between a father and his first son." Bailey added. Scarlett turned her head to see Ethan behind her. A frown on his face he was trying not to let show, tears in his eyes he was trying to now let fall. He's attention was drawn to the curtain with the projection above them. His eyes landed back down on Scarlett. Thats when she knew. He was doing this not only for Richie.

"Which is why I helped him build this collection." Bailey turned around gesturing to all the artifacts around them. "This was all his?" Tara asked looking at the displays around her. "Yes, he's a very passionate collector. And he inspired others. We had to kill those two wannabe film students because, well, we had to kill you first, Sam. I put the theater in their name, then good ole Detective Bailey would've just stumbled on it. But I didn't have to because, by golly, that Gale Weathers is one hell of a journalist. I built a tribute to my son. Which is why this is where you have to die, Sam. Surrounded by all the things he loved the most." Bailey explained.

"What happens next? After you're done with us you just disappear?!" Sam exclaimed. "No! We got to hurry over to the hospital and make sure Mindy and Gale don't pull through..." Sam looked over at her sisters and down at their hands. A brick in each then back up at the two. "....because everybody dies Sam! Everyone who had anything to do with the death of my son suffers and dies." Bailey lifted his gun up to Sam.

"Yeah!Fuck yeah they do!" Quinn yelled. "Now put on the mask." Bailey hissed. "He was so pathetic." Sam panted as she shook her head. "What?Thats not true." Bailey objected."Yeah, your son, he was a man-baby who made his girlfriend so all the killing." Sam continued to taunt.

"He was a strong, virile young man!" Bailey gripped his gun harder. "He was a limp-dick little fuck who cried before I slit his throat." Sam spat. "Shut the fuck up!" Quinn yelled as she lunged forward to Sam. Scarlett quickly gripped the brick and swung at Quinn knocking her to the ground coughing up her own blood. Suddenly the sound of gun shots rang through the air. The three turned to see Kirby firing off. Bailey quickly made his way behind the curtain to another hallways escaping the shots.

Quinn used all her strength at the current moment and lifted herself up off the ground. She tried her best to run behind the curtain to follow her father. "Sam come on!" Tara yelled as her and Scarlett tried to make a run for it. Ethan sprinted towards Kirby and quickly threw her to the ground. He grabbed another knife in the pockets of his robe.

"Recognize this?" Ethan held up the older scarlet covered blade. "Fuck you." Kirby spat. Ethan in one swift movement jabbed the knife into Kirby's abdomen. Ripping the flesh of the scar before it. "Fuck" Kirby groaned.

Grabbing a brick from the rubble on the ground beside her, Sam ran up behind Ethan. Who was currently still taunting Kirby from above her. She rammed the side of his head with the brick causing Ethan to fall over in pain. Sam hurried over to Kirby lying on the ground, knife in her old scar. "Sorry, but I kind of need this." Kirby groaned as Sam quickly grabbed the knife lodged in Kirby's abdomen."Fuck em up." Kirby panted.

"Sam come on!" Scar yelled as her and Tara stood by the end of the ladder next to the wall to lead them upstairs. Sam put the knife in her belt then froze. She looked over to Ethan on the ground unconscious. Now was her time. He was out, he couldn't fight back. Sam turned to look back at her sister waiting by the ladder.

Tara anxiously waiting for her to move while Scarlett looking at her and back at Ethan. Her eyes full of fear and worry. Sam looked back at Ethan. "Damn it." She muttered before turning back at the two.

"Go! Go! Go! I'll meet you up there!" Sam told them. Tara hesitated as her hands froze on the wood.

"Where are you going?" Scarlett asked. "Scarlett just  go!" Sam yelled before disappearing through the curtain on the stage.

"Tara go!" Scarlett instructed as her sister started climbing the ladder. Once Tara hit the top she turned toward her sister below. "Go! I'm right behind you." Tara nodded once again at her sister's instructions and started making her way down the hallway. Scarlet grabbed the sides of the older wooden ladder climbing the first two steps.

"Where do you think you're going?" Ethan grabbed Scarlett's right leg as she went for the third step. Grabbing her hard as he tugged her down the ladder. "No. No. No." Scarlett pleaded as she hit the ground trying to get away. Ethan reached down and with his left, he grabbed Scarlett by the throat. Ethan lifted her up and slammed her against the wall next to the ladder.

"Hi there, Princess. I was hoping I would get just one more time with you alone. Remember the last time I had you pinned against a wall?" Ethan smirked. "Fuck you." Scar gasped as Ethan's hand applied pressure. "No, no, no sweetheart we already did that remember?" Ethan chuckled.

Scarlett flinched as Ethan quickly brought his knife up to the brick on the wall behind her. The sound of scraping rang through Scarlett's ear. His grip getting tighter on her throat. "Ethan." Scar moaned trying to get more air.

"Sounded like that too." Ethan brought his lips to her ear close to his knife. "Why? Why me? Why do this?" Scarlett asked. "Were you not paying attention? At all!" Ethan exclaimed. "You know that's not what I meant." Scarlett needed to know.

She knew this wasn't the same Ethan she had learn to love. That Ethan was just a mirage. She needed to know why he would do this though. Why take the extra step to be with her? "Consider it plot."

"You know doing this isn't going to make your dad love you more." Scarlett's words snapped something inside him. He took her body off the wall only to slam it back into it again. Scarlett groaned in pain as she felt the sting in the back of her head from the bricks. "I don't need him to love me."

"It really seems like you do. Like you're doing this for him not for you." Her words weren't helping his anger as it was starting to spill over. "I'm doing this for me you bitch!"

"Scar! Scarlette! Scar!" Scarlett could hear her sisters call out for her. Tears slowly escaped her eyes. Ethan took his thumb and wiped away her ongoing tears. She could feel the cold metal of the knife. The knife with her sister's blood on it on the side of her face. With the same hand he's using to wipe her tear could be the same one to kill her any second.

"I want you to know I did love you at some point." Ethan leaned his forehead onto hers. The words made Scarlett's tears fall faster. "Ethan. Ethan I-" Scarlett stuttered. "But that's just not enough." Scarlett saw Ethan move his hand back with the knife ready to plunge. Panic set in her. She didn't want to but she knew what she had to do. She went into full panic mode as she yelled-

"ETHAN!! NO WAIT!! I'M PREGNANT!"

————————————————————

Chapter one up now!!!

[bengals-barnesbabe]

Legacy

Tee Higgins x Ochocinco!Daughter

Description: Tee's been dating one of his idol's daughter behind his back. What happen's when the reader breaks her dad's number one rule? How will Ocho react when he finds out?

a/n: I need to start writing shorter, but I physically can't. I hope it meets your expectations ♡

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: overprotective father figures, language,

Main Masterlist

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

Over the last seven months you’ve been happier than ever. You got a promotion at work, finally moved out of your dad’s house and met him. You’d never felt a love like this, he made you feel things you couldn’t have imagined. He didn’t just care about you, he cherished your love, encouraged your goals, and helped you feel safe. Tee made you feel seen in the world, in his world filled with countless others that would give anything for his attention.

Falling in love with Tee Higgins was easy, hiding it from Chad Johnson was the hard part. 

Every Memorial Day weekend your dad throws a small family kickback. At first it was his way of welcoming the summer since us kids were out of school, now that we’re older he does it so we have an excuse to spend time together. This year it’s gonna be in Miami at his new condo and of course he invited all of us, including any plus ones that we wanted to bring. Funny enough Memorial Day falls on the 7 month anniversary of you and Tee being together. The coincidence of the two dates lining up is chilling. 

Your dad was the stereotypical black father growing up, he didn’t want his daughters dating anyone until 35. While that rule was broken days after him stating it, there was one he would lay his life on the line for. 

‘No daughter of his shall ever date an athlete, but more specifically a football player.’

Real funny coming from him, the legendary NFL wide receiver. It’s also funny that your boyfriend and your dad played for the same team with the same number. Yea you’re pretty much dead if he finds out.

Thankfully there may be someone that can help you.

Calling ‘Future Rich Wine Auntie’…

“Hello?”

“I'm in a crisis.” You huff.

“Oh look it’s my poor little sister crying for my help once again, what did you do this time y/n?” She snickered.

“Jicyra, you’re two years older than me.”

“..and wiser and more stable (financially and mentally).” She mumbled that last part, not very well though.

“Hey!”

You could hear her smirk though the phone. “It’s true, I’m not in my 2nd year of residency making no where close to the current average in your field.” Well she didn’t have to rub it in.

“I know but- look we actually do have a problem.”  

“I knew it, you broke your dishwasher.” She cackles.

“Oh my god, I did not break the dishwasher. Why do you say shit like that? I’m talking about Tee and dad.” You rolled your eyes.

“Oh.. wait you still haven’t told him?”

You sigh. “Not that it’s Tee, he knows I’m dating someone.” 

“ Just rip the bandaid off, no harm no foul.” 

“That’s easier said than done, Cyra.”

“Look all I’m saying is you’re making a really big deal out of nothing. Dad ain't gon do shit, plus he considers Tee a second son half the time.”

ੈ♡˳

After getting off the phone with your sister, you started to devise a plan to tell Tee about the party, but you didn’t get far when he ended up walking through the door less than 10 minutes later. “Baby, where you at?”

“In here!” You forced a smile onto your face as he engulfed you into his fresh cucumber scented body. Probably showered at the facility. “We need to talk.” You both sit.

His face dropped and he slowly released you. “What’s up?”

“It’s not bad, it’s just we need to change our 7 month plans a bit.” You kissed your teeth.

He lets out a breath of air he didn’t know he was holding in, “that’s it. Damn baby you had me thinking this was it.” 

“No, no of course not.” You lean over and plant a brief kiss on his lips. “I would never break up with you like that, or ever. Especially if you didn’t even do anything wrong.”

“I mean there was that one dream you had.” His mouth twitched up.

“I’m a very vivid dreamer, I can’t help that. And blame that bitch from the club who tried to get in your pants.” 

“Ok what’s this about then?”

“Remember those end of school parties I told you about?” He nods. “Well my dad has invited us to his next one. It’s memorial day weekend in Miami.” 

His face shifts in realization, “I guess it’s time to tell Ocho.” He surveys the way you chew on your lips and wont meet his gaze. So he grabs your hands, pulls you into his arms and kisses your head. 

“Hey, I got you. Everything’s going to be fine, knowing your dad he’ll make a joke about it, maybe threaten me then we can have good time.”

You look up at him, “you think so?”

“I know so, baby.” You smile and pulls his lips to yours.

ੈ♡˳

You arrive at Miami Dade two days before the party and without your boyfriend, due to him having an early practice the next day. The 3 hour plane ride gave you lots of time to think of a way to break your big news to your dad without him popping a blood vessel or setting anything on fire. You decided to just break the news to him as gently as possible, give him small details then let Tee speak for himself. Sure is putting all the pressure on him a bit harsh, yes. But he asked you out in the first place, so who’s fault is it really? 

A little over a year ago.

It was your first official week in Cincinnati when Danielle, a long time friend of yours, suggested that you join her at a party that the guy she was seeing was throwing. Being so new to the city, you took her up on the offer so you could meet people. When you got to the party, it was covered in orange and black jerseys and it dawned on you that this wasn’t just some party.

“Dani, did you bring me to a Bengals victory party?”

The dark skinned woman removed her coat and smiled. The number 1 printed on the white fabric made you scoff. “I knew if I told you he was a football player, you’d find an excuse not to come.”

“You’re dating Ja’Marr Chase?” The bright smile painted on her lips couldn’t be wiped off even if tried.

“Yes, it's been 3 months and I really like him, so please just stay.” So you let the woman lead you further into the party.

Let’s be clear, your dad’s dumb rule didn’t cause your destain for the football culture, it was the fact that your entire life was centered around the sport. Dad’s a legend to the team, brother played just like him and it’s all anyone ever talked about. You stayed away from sport all together, it didn’t help when you majored in Biology to be a physical therapist, but you weren’t actually watching them play.

The party wasn’t as bad as you expected it to be, granted you spent most of the time standing by the bar carefully nursing your drink, but the vibes were nice. You’d already met most of the players on the team through your dad and work, so you weren’t surprised when Tee came up to you.

“Dr. Y/n Johnson, I thought you said I’d never see you outside the office.” He smiled discreetly looking you up and down.

“Uno’s dating my best friend.” You said nodding towards the couple on the dancefloor. “She dragged me here without telling me it was for y'all. But I guess congratulations are in order, AFC champs.”

“Oh you know, just another thing to be thankful for, just like you in that dress.” 

“Flattery will get you nowhere Higgins, but buy me another drink and maybe I'll bite.”

“Anything for a few more minutes with your fine ass.”

ੈ♡˳

Minutes at the bar turned into hours on the phone then days just to see that charming smile, so yea flattery got him the world. 

Your phone buzzes knocking you out of your daydream.

Mean Ass Bitch: I've been in the airport pickup line for 10 minutes, where you at bitch?

LOML T💜: missed you when i got home mamas, call me when you get there 

You bite your lip hiding the grin that he put on your face as you click on his contact. It rings once before you hear that deep southern drawl come through. “There goes my baby.. How was ya flight baby?” 

There isn't a moment when you don’t feel the warmness in your chest and butterflies in your stomach when it comes to this man. The charm may have gotten him in the door, but it was his goodhearted, loving nature that gave him the key.

“Hi..it was good, I managed to get a nap in so that was nice.” 

“Only the best for my baby. How you feelin? I know your nerves been goin crazy.” 

Just as you were about to answer, you spotted your sister, your very mad sister. “Hold on babe, J looks like she wants to kill me.”

“All good, we can't have that. Call me when you can, I love you.”

“I love you more Tamaurice.” You smirk as you get to her car.

“You the only one allowed to say that, wouldn't be gettin away wit that shit if you weren't so beautiful.” His tone lacks the seriousness he implied as his light chuckles come through the phone.

“Sounds good to me, byeee.” You can’t help laughing as you hang up and put your bags in Cyra’s Audi. 

“I hope you ain’t laughing at me dying in this damn heat waitin for your slow ass.” She mean mugged as you ducked into the car. 

“Nah, it’s because you're dressed like goddamn big bird in that damn sweat suit.” You teased.

“I will kick you out of this car, quit playin’ bitch.”

“Okay, okay,” you sigh as she pulls out of the airport traffic. “So how’s my gorgeous real estate queen big sis doing?”

“You know what, I’m good. Charmin’ rich people outta they money for some last leg beach houses that’ve seen one too many hurricanes. I’m very excited to get on this boat with a glass of champagne and just relax.” You nod along as she turns the radio on. “How’s the Tee and dad situation going?”

You take a deep breath and sink further into the seat, “I’ve decided to just let his presence speak for itself. They already know each other, but ‘Tee the wide receiver’ is very different from ‘Tee the man that’s dating his daughter’. I’ll try and ease the idea of him before he gets here, there’s no way I’m taking all the heat from this.”

She scoffed, “you just gon’ let your man take the fall?”

“He has said he’d do anything for me, so it probably won’t be that bad.” You shrugged.

“Yea ok Y/n, I can’t wait to see this blow up in your face.” 

ੈ♡˳

Walking into your dad’s house felt like going through a time capsule, he only bought it a few months ago but the walls and shelves were filled with pictures of us as kids and football memorabilia. “Dad she’s here.” Cyra sings taking your bag down the hallway that you hope has the rooms.

You find him in the kitchen arms deep in hamburger meat. “Uh oh Docta Johnson in the house. Come here and give your old man a hug.” Shaking you head, you humor him as much as you can without touching his hands.

“How you doing old man?”

“I’m alive, I’m happy and I’m excited to meet this boyfriend of yours. Where he at, did you tell him to wait outside? Baby you know I’m good.” He smiles as wide as he possibly can.

“I’m glad to hear it, but he’s not here yet. He has work so he’ll be flying out tomorrow night.” 

He smirks. “At least he has a job.”

Your jaw drops, “that was one time and you said you wouldn't bring it up again.” He chuckles as a frown builds on your face.

“I’m just playing, but this guy already sounds ten times better than what his name.. Jackson! Yea he was a leech.” 

“Okay, that enough boy talk. Want some help there?” You ask gesturing to the mountain of meat on the marble counter.

“I would love some, you always were the better cook. But don’t tell your sisters I said that.” He nods with a hushed voice.

You chuckle walking over to the sink. “You just did.” His brows furrowed. 

“What do you mean?” Chade and Jicyra tapped his shoulders from behind him. He eyes whitened out.

“What I meant was that Y/n’s good with protein heavy meals. Cy you make a mean salad and Chae you make the best cookies.” He smiled.

“Nice try, I do be throwin’ some flour around tho.” Chade remarks.

“Whatever, we’re off to buy some supplies for the party. Bye!” Then its just the two of you, in the kitchen seasoning about 20 lbs of meat and forming it into decent sized patties.

“So is there anything else I can squeeze out of you about this fine young black man? He is black right?”

You scoff, “what if he isn’t, what’d you say?”

“None, nothing. Your hair look too good for you to be dating a white man.” Your jaw drops for the second time today.

“I can’t. I don’t know why I’m helping you.”

“Aww my poor middle child.” You shove his arm causing him to get raw meat on his shirt. 

“Ok, I deserved that.” He nods, side eying you. “Don’t even try it.”

“You no fun. Come just tell me something about the guy.” 

You bite. “Fine, yes he’s black. He’s tall, kind, smart, sweet and I guess he’s pretty athletic.”

He hums, “athletic huh. What we talkin here NBA, NHL, FIFA?”

“I ain’t giving you no more, you’ll see him tomorrow and I’ll let him speak for himself.” You finish your part then walked out of the kitchen.

“I can read in between the lines Y/n! If Ja’Marr walks in this house tomorrow, I’m beating his ass!”

If he only knew how close he really was.

ੈ♡˳

You ended going out to dinner with your sisters when they got back. It was fun it being just being them, you could gossip and chit chat all you wanted without Ochocinco lurking around. Before bed you and Tee talked all about each other’s day and all the nerves about him meeting your dad. He reassured you that there was nothing he couldn’t handle and nothing your dad could say that changed how he felt about you. It felt good going to bed knowing your boyfriend had no worries about your relationship changing at all.

The next day was pretty chill, dad was too busy with the last minute preparations for the party. So you spent most of your time at the mall with your siblings. Your brother pretty much just groaned about the heat and the amount of time you spent in stores, but you reminded him plenty of times that he could go off on his own and he chose to stay. With that said the four of you had a pretty nice time. Until the ride home, when you could not get away from the Tee questions.

“Don’t you think its weird that they shared the same number and team?” Junior spent 20 minutes just going over the similarities between them like you hadn’t already known how odd it was.

“Jr leave her alone. How’s his stamina though?” Chade was the youngest, as anyone could probably tell with her bluntness.

“No sex questions please, this is a rental and Jr’s not afraid to blow chunks.” Cyra joked.

“Yall act like I don’t have sex.”

“Ok so would like to know what Matt and I did at your New Years Party?” Chade smirked. 

He eyes just about fell out of his head. “You and Matt? Matt my best friend? YOU AND MY BEST FRIEND FUCKED AT MY PARTY?”

That was the end of the questionnaire.

ੈ♡˳

The second you pulled into the driveway you noticed two things: your dad’s SUV was still absent and there was another random car by the curb. 

“Who’s that?” Cyra shrugged in response and just motioned you to get out. Normally someone would’ve taken offense to be thrown out of a car, but then your favorite person in the world got out of the other car.

“Damn, he is tall.” Jr’s comment was deaf to your ears as you ran over to your boyfriend.

“Hey babygirl.” He smiled wrapping his arms around you.

“What are you doing here? It’s only 4 and you weren’t supposed to land until 9. You know what I don’t care.” He lifts you onto the trunk of the vehicle so you’re eye to eye and guides your lips to his. Another feeling you could never get tired of, his plump lips against your glossy ones. Your arms wrap around his neck in an instant to pull him closer into you. You love being able to relinquish all control and just let him move you how he sees fit. He pecks your tropical scented lips once more before helping you down.

“Well that is an image I’m never getting out of my head.” Jr shakes his head and takes your bags out of the car. 

“Let’s go in the house so Y/n can properly introduce us to her beau.” You stay glued to his side as you make your way into the condo. 

As Junior rounds the corner to the bedrooms he stops in his tracks and the bags drop onto the floor.

“JUNIOR MY PERFUME!” Chade shoves him and grabs her bags. “Oh shit.”

Cyra being in no mood for their nonsense, pokes her head down the hall. “What the hell is wrong with you- hi daddy.” You shoot her a panicked look. She responds with an equally panicked shrug. The situation is impossible, there’s only one way to the living room and its to pass that very hallway. 

“This is not how this was supposed to happen.” You whine at the lowest voice you could manage. Which didn’t end up being that low in the end.

“How what’s supposed to happen?” Your dad’s voice bellows out. Tee squeezes your shoulder as the man walks into your view.

“Surprise?” 

He sighs. “Damn, I owe Junior some money.” 

“I’m sorry, what?” You blink. All of sudden your brother bursts out laughing and starts dancing around your father.

“I told you! He had his mind set on you bringing either Ja’Marr or Burrow ‘as a wildcard’. I’m ten thousand dollars richer people.” 

“You bet ten racks on who she was dating! Dad I thought you were smarted than this.” Cyra expresses dumbfounded like the rest of you.

“Dad what the fuck? Is that why you wanted to know if he was black or not?” You rolled your eyes before walking past the man into the living room.

“Y/n it wasn’t like that-

“I don’t care, I’m just glad you lost your money to the dumbest person here.” 

His forehead creased, “Was that her way of calling me the new dumbest person?” Both of your sisters nodded. “Got it.”

Then Tee, still standing at the doorway, clears his throat. “Ocho.”

Your dad turns back towards him and pulls him into a ‘bro-hug’. “Well if it isn't the younger taller version of myself. I should’ve known it was you, not because of that but you didn’t exactly take your eyes off of her when she came down to that practice.”

Tee chuckled. “Couldn’t help it, man. I would’ve talked to you the last time you came to practice, but I was under strict instructions not to. When the love of your life tells you something, I make it habit to listen.” Chade nudges you as your face heats up.

“Love of your life huh? Glad to know she’s in good hands, and you have no excuses not to go for my records now. You got a physical therapist on speed dial.” They laugh together.

“See, I told you you were worried for nothing.” Cyra joins you on the couch. 

“Yea I gues you were right.” You mutter bringing a smirk to her face.

“I’m sorry what was that? Did The Dr. Y/n Johnson just admit that she was wrong.”

You pressed your lips together and got up. “You heard me or do you need an audiologist? Cause I can’t help you in that area, you’re just getting old.” You walked over to Tee, quickly grabbed his hand and ducked when a pillow came flying your way.

“Im only 2 years older than you bitch.” You cackled running down the hall to your room.

“Hey, no funny business in my house!” You shut the door and laid back against it trying to calm down while Tee sat on the bed studying you.

“What?” You walk over and stand between his legs.

“I like this side of you.” He sucks in his bottom lip scooting back on the bed.

“Yea, well I know a side you like even more.” You saying climbing onto his lap.

His hands go around your hips and cup your ass. “Oh I like this Y/n very much.” You push him back and place ghost kisses on his lips.

“Woman if you don’t- You go to give him a peck but lightly bite his lip instead. “Fuck.”

He closes the distance between you, sucking in your lips and licking into your mouth. 

Yea you had nothing to worry about at all.

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

a/n: reblog if you like, comment or request any scenarios you'd like for me to write for our octopus lover♥︎

[fairlyang]

Starstruck 🕷️

in which miguel is a famous singer that bumped into you, you only knowing who he is because your sister is in love with him

w/c: 11.4K

pairing:famous!miguel x latina!reader

tags: you despise his ass so bad, your sister is a borderline stalker, she makes you tag along to find him, he accidentally knocks you out, 18+ smut. journey starts after that, you forcibly follow him around, change of heart, making out, fingering

notes: this is one of my personal favs bc I loved starstruck the movie by disney sm, just made it mexican/latine 🫶🏼

"I just love Miguel O'Hara." I heard my sister say when I walked into the living room, staring dreamily at the tv.

I widened my eyes and felt one of them twitch, is this girl serious? Again?

I rolled my eyes and walked in front of the tv standing there on purpose, earning myself an immediate yell and groan, "Y/n!!!"

"Oh perdón Saraí, am I blocking your view of what's his name?" I say and give her a fake pout as her face distorts in pure annoyance. Score. (Sorry)

"Mhmm," she mumbles with a nod and continues, "Entonces muévete o yo te muevo hermanita." she warns and I just roll my eyes and walk into the kitchen. (So move or I'll move you little sister)

Just then our parents walk in, my dad with our suitcases and my mom with some laundry she'd just done. "Ya agarren sus maletas." My dad said making me sigh. (Come grab your suitcases)

"Vengan agarrar su ropa para empacar." My mom calls out placing the laundry basket next to Saraí. (Come grab your clothes to pack)

"Nos vamos al aeropuerto mañana después de que salgan de sus clases." She adds making Saraí squeal, hurting my poor ears. (We're leaving to the airport tomorrow after you guys get out of your classes)

I open the fridge and take out the carton of orange juice, placing it on the counter then walking over and open the cabinet, grabbing a glass. I freeze watching Saraí take out my clothes and make faces at them. This girl-

"In less than twenty-four hours I'll be in California where Miguel lives!!!" She says excitedly making me raise an eyebrow.

I walk back to the counter and pour myself a glass. I take a sip while Saraí just keeps going, "what if he picks me up at the airport-"

I burst out laughing, the juice immediately spilling all over the place while I quickly shut my mouth and wipe the remnants off the side of my face. "Bitch why the fuck would he do that?!?" I say after calming down still giggling to myself.

She quickly turns to me and glares, "I'm like his number one fan, I follow all his accounts, listen to every single song and keep track of everything he's doing on his blog." I blink at how absolutely insane my sister sounds when she adds, "Te aseguró, el me quiere conocer." (I assure you, he wants to meet me)

Just then my mom walks in behind me and I turn to her desperately, "ya es muy tarde para ser la única hija?" (Is it too late to be the only daughter?)

"Si." She says not even turning to look at me. (Yes)

"Entonces por favor me puedo quedar?" I plead and she finally looks up from her phone. (So can I please stay home)

"No."

"Porque?" (Why?)

"Porque tu abuela no te ha visto en dos años y estás son tus vacaciones." She says and brings a hand up to my cheek.

My dad walks in and chuckles at my sad state, "y que jovencita va reclamar de ir a California?" He says and laughs. (And what young woman is going to complain about going to California?)

I sigh and shake my head, "pero tiene que ser con ella." (but it has to be with her)

Suddenly Saraí shushes all of us and leans in, her eyes wide as she turns the volume up on the Mexican news channel talking about this man.

I walk behind her and cross my arms against the chest watching the fucking news segment this dude got after getting awards at the Latin American Music Awards. There he was carrying four awards in his arms as he was giving a speech on the red carpet.

"Les quiero decir muchas gracias a los fans que me han apoyado durante toda mi carrera, los amo mucho." He says and shines a bright smile directly into the camera. (I just wanna say thank you to all the fans that have supported me throughout my whole career, I love you so much)

"Es tan increíble." Sara sighs and smiles up at the tv. (He's so incredible)

"Definitivamente no es increíble." I say and shake my head. (He definitely is not incredible)

"Um claro que si lo es, y si tu lo conocías como yo lo conozco, no dirías eso." She says turning her head to look at me. (Um of course he is, and if you knew him like I knew him, you wouldn't say that)

"Estas loca? Vivimos en Michigan, tu no lo conoces." I spit out and roll my eyes. This bitch is crazy. (Are you crazy? We live in Michigan, you do not know him)

"Pero lo se, yo sé todo sobre el." She says facing back to the tv. (But I do know, I know everything about him)

"I know where he works, eats, shops, surfs, and parties." She says and sinks into the couch.

I groan and walk out of the living room heading to my room, she's going to be so insufferable.

It was the next day and I was stood by Saraí and her friend, Lina as I was telling her about going to the campus-wide dance one of the fraternities was holding soon. She laughed in my face and shook her head, "No estas invitada hermana." (You're not invited sister)

"Como que no- it's a campus-wide dance." I say and roll my eyes. (What do you mean-)

"Y tu no bailas- qué vergüenza." She says and elbows Lina. (And you don't dance- how embarrassing)

"You won't have to worry about that, I'll just be there to write for the school newspaper..." I tell her and roll my eyes.

"Oh..." She says and I chuckle. Bet she feels somewhat bad now.

"Oh vas a llevar tu cámara contigo a California?" Lina asks and Saraí turns her attention to her. (Oh are you gonna take your camera with you to California?)

"Lina, por supuesto que me lo voy a llevar." She says and grins. (Of course I'm going to take it)

"Porque todavía necesitamos más fotos de Miguel...." Lina says taking out a fucking scrapbook with a picture of said man and I feel my eye twitching again. (Because we still need more pictures of Miguel...)

Are all the girls insane???

"Hablando, caminando, cantando, bailando, moviéndose, respirando... todo posible." She adds and I was just dumbfounded. (Talking, walking, singing, dancing, moving, breathing. Anything possible)

They are insane.

"Porque están tan obsesionadas con este tipo?" I ask and they both immediately turned to look at me in disgust. (Why are you both so obsessed with this guy?)

"Este tipo?!?!" Lina exclaims, her eyebrows knitted in a deep cut glare at me. (This guy?!?!)

"Mhm. Ahora ves con que vivo." Saraí retorts and rolls her eyes at me. (Now you see with what I have I live with)

"Pobre de ti." Lina mutters making me laugh. (Poor you)

Saraí turns to me and gives me a smile, "Hermanita cuando estemos en California, tu puedes jugar lotería con abuela, pero yo voy a conocer a Miguel O'Hara." (Little sister when we're in California, you can play bingo with grandma, but I'm going to meet Miguel O'Hara.)

"Y cómo estás planeando hacer eso?" I ask and chuckle. (And how are you planning on doing that?)

Suddenly Lina opens the scrapbook and in the first pages is filled with notes, scribbles, hearts. "Pues hemos trazado cada uno de sus movimientos durante los últimos dieciocho meses." She says, acting as if this isn't the most psychotic thing ever imaginable. (Well we've traced every one of his movements for the past eighteen months)

"Yo sé cuándo y dónde es probable que esté cada segundo de cada día." Saraí says too casually. (I know when and where he's likely to be every second of every day)

"About the time we'll be leaving for LA, he'll be having his daily meeting with his managers." She says and they both sigh looking off into the distance. Freaks.

"Do not fucking tell me you brought homework to California-" Saraí says looking at me dumb-smacked.

"No- I am reading, you should try it some time." I tell her and snort.

"I read-"

"These-" I start and turn behind me to grab one of her hundreds of magazines, "are fucking pictures, this doesn't count."

She gasps and quickly smacks my hand away, grabbing her magazine back. She gives me a glare and then looks out to the parking lot, impatiently tapping her foot on the ground. "Why are they dragging ass-"

"Ugh just get me a car so I can go meet Miguel O'Hara!!" She squeals and I look behind her and shrug.

"You can't drive." I say and she scoffs.

"Yes I can, I have my license dumbass." She snorts and I shake my head.

"No you can't, sign!" I say and point behind her.

She turns around and reads the sign that says you have to be at least 25 to rent a car from the specific rental we were by. And so sad she barely turned 23 a few months ago.... "What?"

"How am I meant to go out and about-"

"Y hacer que?" My dad asks, as he and my mom walk towards us. (And do what?)

"Llevar a mi hermanita de turismo!!" She says and quickly walks over to me and wraps an arm around my shoulder. (Take my little sister sightseeing!!)

"Creo que tu abuela tiene un carro que te puede prestar." He says and she lets go of me and sighs. (I think your grandma has a car you can borrow)

"Gracias a Dios." She mutters making me snicker. (Thank god)

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We arrived at my grandma's house and right as my dad parked my mom took off her seat left and got out of the car because grandma was on step stools cutting off leaves off a hedge which of course put mom on edge.

We all followed with her besides Saraí staying in the car, and grandma came down with the help of a man we haven't seen before. "Mija cálmate estoy bien-" (calm down I'm okay)

My mom stood behind her watching her as the man helped her down, "Héctor me estaba ayudando!" She says with a wide smile as she gives my mom a hug. (Héctor was helping me!)

When grandma pulled away my mom just gave her a look and she just innocently smiled then went on to give my dad a hug. I walk over to her and immediately go in for a hug, "Abuela te extrañe!!" I say and squeeze her gently. (Grandma I missed you!)

She hugs me back then pulls away bringing a hand up to my cheek, lightly pinching. "Yo también te extrañe mi angelita." She says and grins. (I missed you too my little angel)

She then turns to Saraí admiring grandma's 2012 baby pink Volkswagen Beetle. "Saraí la puedes usar cuando gustes." Grandma tells her making Saraí just nervously laugh. (You can use her whenever you'd like)

"No me van a encontrar muerta en esta cosa-" she says and groans, almost throwing a hissy fit. (You wont catch me dead in this thing)

"Entonces nos vas acompañar a jugar lotería?" I joke and she glared at me but it had grandma giggling. (So does that mean you'll be joining us to play bingo?)

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I walked into the room Saraí was sleeping in because grandma was saying she was pacing too much. "Abue dice que te calmes, que vas hacer un agujero en el piso." I say and she stops to look at me with crazy eyes. (Grandma says to calm down, that you're gonna make a hole on the floor)

"I just got off the phone with Lina who saw a tweet about a blog account who got a text about Miguel O'Hara. He's singing at Lyla's birthday party. I have to go-" she rants and I blink. Who the fuck is Lyla- actually it's better I don't ask...

"Good luck convincing mom and dad." I say and walk away from her doorway.

"Come with me." She says and I turn back around.

I scoff and shake my head, leaning against the doorway staring at her not a slightest bit shocked. "No."

"Si tu vas conmigo me van a dejar ir!!" She says and and I roll my eyes. (If you go with me they'll let me go!!)

"Y yo para que quiero ir-" I say then stop, "ya me hartaste de tu mentado Miguel O'Hara-" (And why would I wanna go? You've made me tired of your mentioned Miguel O'Hara-)

"I'll shut up."

"What?"

"If you come with me and I meet Miguel, I'll shut up about him.... For the rest of our trip." She pleads and I bite my lip.

"Mejor por el resto de tu vida." I mutter and she looks at me expectantly. (better yet for the rest of your life)

"Please."

"Fine."

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She drove us down to apparently some popular club Miguel was at and I really couldn't believe my older sister had stalker tendencies like this. It was absurd.

But not as absurd as fucking parking where it clearly says no parking zone. "Dude can you really not read??!?" I ask and she waved me off as she slipped out of the drivers seat and into the back to change.

"It's fine. If one person is in the car it isn't even parking it's just waiting." She says and I roll my eyes.

"Just get behind the wheel!!" She demands and i scoff.

I do so anyway and carefully maneuver to the drivers seat while she's singing to a song on the radio. God her not talking about him for the rest of the trip is not going to be enough-

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We hear a loud car engine and she quickly popped up from the back seat and looked over to the entrance. She gasps and quickly straps her heel on. "It's him!"

She quickly opens the door and gets out slamming it shut before opening it up again and peeps her head through. "Just stay here! Don't move a muscle." She says blowing me a kiss then slams the door shut again.

I hear her squeal and watch as she walks across the street to the front of the club. She walks over to some guy kissing his cheeks then poses for some cameras. Oh god-

I slap my hand over my forehead cringing at the sight then see as she tugs him away inside, but she didn't even have to wait in line so maybe this won't take so long....

A brunette following close behind them with an annoyed look on her face. I sigh and turn my body towards the steering wheel and changing the radio stations to not have to hear that man's voice.

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I look down at my phone and realize it's midnight and I've been sitting here waiting like a fucking fool for half an hour. I groan and grab my bag, I turn the car off and take the keys out. I open the door and get out, gently closing the door then lock it. I'll just quickly find her and we can go back home.

I get to the sidewalk and swing my bag over my shoulder as I make my way to the stoplight. I walk over to the street where the club was and mentally wish I hadn't agreed to this. The line was so long.

I get to the street where the back of the line was and roll my eyes. There has to be another entrance.

I make my way past the people and walk towards an alleyway right next to the club. Surely there's another entrance here.

I walk in the middle of the alley my eyes searching for a door when I finally spot one. I go to open it when the door hits me and I fall back onto my ass. "Fuck-" I groan and hold onto my head.

"Did I just hit you?" A voice asks and I roll my eyes.

"Nahhh the door hit me by itself." I respond sarcastically and roll my eyes.

"This is not good." The guy muttered and i scoff.

"For you or for me? Because right now this feels worse for me." I snap and rub my head slowly. Shit, that was gonna leave a mark.

"This is really not good." He mutters making me furrow my eyes in confusion.

Then the realization hit.

"Wait...."

"You're Mig-" I start then a hand is covering my mouth before I can even finish.

"I will give you merch and tickets to my next concert if you don't scream my name-"

I shove his hand away from me and scoff. "I don't want any of that shit-"

He lifts his hands up in defense and cocks an eyebrow up. "Okay.. I need to get you to a doctor...." He mumbled just then we hear a car engine and he carefully helps me up.

He then goes down and grabs my phone and keys before grabbing my hand. "What about Saraí-" I mumble and widen my eyes realizing I just left her.

"Whose Saraí?"

"My sister- she's in the club." I say and curse under my breath. She's gonna be so mad.

He holds my hand and leads me towards the car where a man gets out of the car and walks over to us, "Miguel what did you do-"

"Just help now and I'll tell you later Peter." Miguel tells Peter and lets me go.

Peter puts his hand behind my back leading me to the passenger seat and helps me inside the car. He leans down to look at Miguel and I just look back and forth between both men. "Who is this?" Peter asks confused wanting some kind of clarity.

"Seatbelt." Miguel looks to me and Peter hands it to me while Miguel places my things on my lap.

"Y/n." I say and take the seatbelt and buckle it.

"Pues mucho gusto conocerte." He says and I roll my eyes. (Well nice to meet you)

"Ningún gusto para mi." I mutter and Peter snickers to my right. This white man understands Spanish? (It's not nice for me) 

I look at Miguel and he just gives me a smile, his teeth were a bit crooked but very white. The crookedness was kinda cute-

Wait- what the fuck am I thinking?!

Then I feel my stomach gurgle and I widen my eyes, "I don't feel too good..."

"Don't puke on May I just got her fixed up!!" Peter says and I nod.

"Okay." I mumble then lean over to the side and puke my guts out.

After my stomach was emptied my throat felt so patchy and disgusting and I sat back up onto the seat and leaned against the head rest. "Not my favorite converse!!!" Peter groans and I feel bad but physically feel off.

"I'll get you new ones- close the door-" Miguel says and Peter complains some more but closes the door.

"Keys." He says and I hand them to him.

"Make sure her sister Saraí get home okay." Miguel tells Peter and hands him the keys to my grandma's car. Oh fuck-

"Don't tell anyone about this." He tells him and Peter waves him off look down at the mess on his shoes.

"What's she look like? What's she wearing?" He asks and I cough.

"Uhh like an older version of me... except with dark red hair and she's wearing a.... Mm oh dark purple dress." I say almost forgetting what she wore as if she wasn't making me look at every outfit she wanted to wear.

"What did she dress up as Starfire on purpose?" He joked and I chuckle.

"I should've made her wear green instead for Poison Ivy-" I say letting out a laugh then Miguel interrupts and turns the car on.

"Just find her and make sure she gets home, please." He tells Peter and then drives away.

We got to a nearby hospital unseen which I guess was good for Miguel. I was sat in a bed looking at a light the doctor was making me follow. I looked at it left and right then she pulled away. "The scans came out fine and you look good to go." She says and gives me a smile.

"So she's okay?" Miguel peeps his head through the door and the doctor scolds at him.

"Out."

He closes the door and the doctor proceeds to tell me I don't have a concussion which was a surprise to me considering I was hit on the head with a fucking door.

"Then why'd I throw up?" I ask and the doctor chuckles.

"Maybe something you ate earlier," she says then quickly adds, "or maybe just meeting this latoso." (Annoying fuck)

I laugh then close my mouth when Miguel pops in and glares at the doctor. I mean it shouldn't be normal that a doctor talks shit like this but I couldn't help but find it funny... plus was she really wrong.. "you have to know each other right? No way a doctor would just talk about someone like this." I say and laugh as Miguel walks in with his hands on his hips.

"My brother's wife." Miguel says and smiles.

"So I can go now...."

"Yes just make sure to ice it until you get home." She says and I nod.

She hands me an ice pack, smiles and excuses herself when Miguel's phone rings. And he just lets it ring. "No vas a contestar o que...." (So you're not gonna answer or what....)

Then he walks out leaving the door ajar and answers the call. I sigh and look down at the floor while I leave the ice pack on my head. How did this end up happening to me of all people?

Suddenly I see the doctor come back through the little window on the door and I see her telling Miguel something. That we can't leave because there's guys with cameras in the lobby...

How the fuck does a hospital just let those people come inside......

Then they start talking about a switcharoo and I sigh. This was going to be such a long night.

They ended up doing the swap and we ended up with a rusty car that had us bumping up and down with every movement. And with every time he'd stop, our bodies would move forehead then harshly back. I groaned when my head hit the head rest and Miguel coughs. "It's not so bad..."

"Don't fucking lie." I say and laugh.

"Just listen to the engine it's fucked." I mutter, staying quiet to hear the rumbling.

"We'll be fine." He says and takes a hand off the wheel to wave me off.

Then there's a loud bang, almost sounding like a gunshot making me yell and hit my elbow. "Chingesumadre-" I groan and bite my lip. (Motherfucker)

"Cálmate!" (Calm down)

"No me digas que me calme- ya llévame a mi casa!" I whine and groan. (Don't tell me to calm down- just take me home!)

"Okay!!" I exclaim and smack his arm with my left hand.

"Que te pasa?!?" He yells and I roll my eyes. (What is wrong with you?!?)

"Nomas quiero ir a casa y ya!!" I whine and he groans. (I just wanna go home and that's it!!)

"I'll take you there!!" He says then quietly adds, "soon enough..."

"What are we doing here?!?" I ask and he holds a finger to my lips for a second then grabs my hand leading me up the stairs.

"Oh so now you're hiding me-"

"Yes I am! Do you wanna be tomorrows main event for Univision?!?" He mutters and I groan following him up.

"Well no-"

"Pues para con tus berrinches y sube." He demands but I just comply. (Stop throwing a fit and go up)

We go up like three floors worth of stairs and we finally reach the top, "big ass house." I mutter making him chuckle.

He leads me to a bedroom and opens the door before letting me go inside. I sigh and go in, admiring the tall ceiling, color scheme, and decor for only a few seconds before I turn to look at him. "Be my guest- Ahorita vengo." He says and walks a step back then turns to look at me. (I'll be right back)

"Just stay put." He says and I roll my eyes.

I bring my hands up to my chest and fold my hands as if they're paws, "woof."

He groans and walks away closing the door behind him leaving me alone in this big guest bedroom. I shake my head in disbelief that this is my life and not my sister's. I didn't ask for this.

I sit down on the bed and put the ice pack on the bedside table. I then lay back on the bed, having my feet hang off the bed to not dirty these probably expensive comforter and blankets. I sink my head into the cloud like pillow and sigh.

Left alone with my thoughts I realize he didn't seem like an asshole or like he was acting a certain way for the tabloids, he seemed somewhat normal. Empathic, somewhat funny. And even I couldn't deny how gorgeous he was but with all the nonstop chatter Saraí has blabbed on about him for months on end I didn't wanna hear or see anything about him again.

At least after he takes me home...

He had the prettiest smile and thank god I had the urge to throw up before I let myself melt into his gaze earlier. God that would've been so embarrassing for me.

And his eyes.

Brown eyes but up close and in the light there were specs of light brown. Almost like a pool of honey. So warm and pretty.

Suddenly I hear some cheers and take notice there's a balcony door. I shrug and get up and walk over to it. Might as well.

I open it and walk out to the small patio and look down at what looks to be a party.... With Miguel sitting down in front of the pool playing the guitar. I was high up but because the crowd was so silent I was able to hear his voice clearly.

I mean deep down I knew I liked a few of his songs, hell maybe even had one or two saved in some playlist but actually hearing his voice, singing without a microphone or him wearing ear pieces to hear himself- it was mind blowing how he was able to sound almost identical.

Besides the occasional breeze rattling the trees making it harder for me to hear him. It sounded like he was singing the chorus and I lean against the railing and listen closely.

Love dovey lyrics, soft tone, nice strums of his guitar. Not too bad.

Suddenly he looks up at me and gives me that smile after finish the chorus, I try to ignore the way my stomach was doing flips and give him the smallest smile possible.

He looks away from me and back to the crowd making me let out a breath I didn't even realize I was holding. I calm myself down as his strumming slows down and he hits the final note, instantly earning himself an applause.

I take that as my sign and I walk out of the patio and into the bedroom. I quickly fix the bed then walk out and head towards the stairs. I go down the stairs fast and careful, and after a good minute I made it to the main floor but there's already lots of people all around and mostly by the front door.

I freeze and look to my right to see a side door so I hope for the best and walk towards it. I open the door and slide in unnoticed only to be met with a garage and five different cars. Damn.

I sigh and walk in front of the cars not even sure how I'll get home. Lord this was such a long night-

Suddenly the door opens and I prepare for the worst which it was, being Miguel. God now he's gonna be thinking I was trying to be nosy on purpose...

"A donde vas?" He asks walking in and shutting the door shut behind him. (Where are you going?)

"A la casa? I think I've overcome my stay." I say and shrug. (Home?)

And I really don't want to explain all of this to my family...

"Alright pick a car." He says and motions to his variety of cars.

I scoff and roll my eyes then turn my head to the last car, a red supra. It looked gorgeous.

Well since he was offering...

I hear him laugh and I stride over to the car. I made my way to the passenger seat and I couldn't believe I was going to ride in a car like this... I mean me of all people?

He unlocks the car and I carefully open the door then hop in. The interior was so nice to look at and it even smelled nice, maybe it was new. I'm sure Saraí would know..

He hops in and turns the car on, revving the engine a little making my eyes go wide. Damn.

I didn't know too much about cars but I knew if they looked sexy on the outside and sounded like that then they were definitely good.

He opens the garage and asks me for the address which I happily tell him to get there as fast as possible but he said he wasn't planning on driving fast, which I thought defeated the purpose of practically having a race car but he said it was because he didn't want to draw any attention to himself. So dumb.

As if we weren't riding in a fucking apple.

He drives and we're sat in silence which I didn't mind so I can quickly think of an excuse as to why I abandoned my sister and not the other way around...

And to try to ignore my growing attraction to this man... because why the fuck did he have to look good driving?

I shook my thoughts away and pressed my now melted ice pack on my head, I won't turn out like my sister. I can't.

He turns the radio on and coincidentally one of his songs started playing. And it had to be one that I actually liked...

He hums the lyrics and I just turn my head to look out the window and mouth the words but making sure to not let out any noise. It was a decent song, a duet he sings with another artist that had such a beautiful melody and perfect guitar playing in the background.

Well I couldn't deny how pretty the song actually was, and he had a decent voice too...

But my way of thinking is different from Saraí, she is obsessed with this man and everything about him. But I can appreciate a song or two. To myself. And never out loud because I wouldn't hear the end of it....

We spent the rest of the car ride like that, except whenever a song that wasn't his, I'd actually start to quietly sing to it. I just couldn't bring myself to sing to his knowing deep down it'd be hypocritical of me to.

I finally saw the familiar street of my abuela's house and he pulls up to the driveway. He parks and we sit in silence for a few seconds. "Listen I was just wanted to apologize-"

"No need, it was an accident. It happens I guess." I say and shrug, undoing my seatbelt.

"Now you can go back to your lavish amazing life and I'll go back to mine." I say turning to face him and give him a forced smile.

He sighs and shakes his head, "eres tan difícil." (You're so difficult)

"No te preocupes, no me vas a tener que ver después de esto." I snarl and roll my eyes. (Don't worry, you won't have to see me after this.)

"Thanks for the ride and see you never." I mutter and open the door.

I get out and close the door shut without turning back and walk along the side entrance of the house.

I sigh opening the door and walk straight to the kitchen. I open the fridge and get myself a cold water bottle then open it before chugging half of it down when I hear a knock on the window by the front door.

I sigh and close the water bottle, leaving it by a coffee table before walking on over to the window. I move the curtain and groan, I quietly open the window and feel my eye twitch. "Leave-"

"I will give you five thousand dollars if you can do me a favor." Says the man who I didn't want to see ever again.

"It's not a favor if you're paying for it." I scoff making him grin.

"So you'll do it?" He asks and I roll my eyes.

I open the garage door for him and as soon as his supra can go in he slides in almost making me scold him in case it fell down or something but I kept my mouth shut.

He parks then gets out of the car and walks on over to me, "you'll be gone before the morning, right?" I say and he just chuckles.

"No one will even know I was here." He says and I roll my eyes as I got on a step stool to reach for a blanket.

"I will unfortunately know." I say and hit it on his head making him groan.

"Thanks." He responds sarcastically giving me a face and catches the blanket.

"'Course."

"Is there anything I can wear para que los chismosos no me reconozcan?" He asks and I shrug, lazily pointing to the boxes behind him. (so the annoying paparazzi won't recognize me?)

"You can check inside those." I mutter slowly feeling the tiredness creep in. "But is this really necessary." I add and he just groans.

"You've got no idea." He says then opens the top one, going through whatever is inside until he picks up a black baseball cap that had a small Mexican flag on the side.

I recognize it and frown but then smile at the memories of my grandpa always wearing it when he's mow the lawn, or plant his vegetables. It was his favorite thing in the world and of course had to have his flag on it.

"Era de mi abuelo, siempre se lo ponía cuando arreglaba su jardín." I tell him and look at the hat in his hands. (It was my grandpa's, he'd always wear it when he worked on his garden)

"Oh- perdón-" he murmurs and quickly takes it off but I wave him off. (sorry)

"Esta bien- te queda un poco bien." I reassure and give him a small smile. (It's okay- it fits you kind of good)

My words versus my expression were somewhat contrasting one another but he just chuckles and puts it back on.

"So are you all good?" I ask and he nods.

"I think so." He answers and looks back at his car.

I'm sure he'll be sleeping like a baby in there...

"Alright well goodnight-" I start to say and was about to walk off when he grabs my arm.

"Y/n." I turn to look at him and he starts to smile, I swore his eyes were sparkling-

"Stop doing that." I say and shake my head. I need to stop too..

"Doing what?" He asks making me roll my eyes. He cannot be serious...

"Ya lo sabes- y más seguro se lo haces a todas." I start and then feel myself stuttering as well as feeling nervous. (You know it- and you probably do it to all the girls.)

"Les haces..." I say and motion to his face making him grin, leaning in, "esa cara y expertas que todas se enamoren de ti." (You do... that face and expect all the girls to fall in love with you)

I take a step back and cross my arms against my chest, "pero no va funcionar para mi, entonces vas a tener que soportar." With the final word I walk to the door and press the button to close the garage then walk out. (But it won't work on me so you'll just have to deal with it)

It was the next morning and I had completely forgotten that Miguel slept in my grandmas garage until said grandma told Saraí that the news was doing a story on Miguel.

I rolled my eyes then quickly came to the realization of last nights events and ran to the living room beating her to it. I try to grab the controller until I feel her on top of me and her hands gripping the other half of the controller. "Que te pasa wey- you don't even like him!!!!" She exclaims and I let out fits of coughs to try to be louder than the tv. (What is with you- you don't even like him)

She screams in annoyance and shoves me making me land on the couch. She puts the volume up and excitedly looks at the tv, oh god...

"Lyla llegó a su fiesta de cumpleaños anoche sin su mentado novio. Aunque nadie lo vio llegar al club para la celebración, testigos confirman que Miguel O'Hara hizo una apariencia secreta para cantar para la casa llena de invitados." Says the reporter making me feel sick to my stomach. No one knows. (Lyla arrived to her birthday party without her supposed boyfriend. Although no one saw him arrive at the club for the celebration, witnesses confirm that Miguel O'Hara made a surprise appearance to sing for the full house of invitees)

"Testigos dijeron que el cantante se fue inmediatamente después de cantar una canción, nomás para reaparecer en su mansión de Beverly Hills, horas después, con una diferente chava." My heart drops to my stomach and I suddenly feel nervous and ill. (Witnesses said that the sunder left immediately after singing one song, only to reappear in his mansion on Beverly Hills, hours later, with a different girl)

How the fuck did they know????

My eyes were wide and mouth agape while Saraí next to me was just scoffing and shaking her head. "Mis informantes me dicen que está chava misteriosa tal ves le robó el corazón de nuestro favorito galán musical." I tried my hardest not to gag, especially since mom and abuela were still nearby but god did they really have to exaggerate that much? (My sources/informants fell me that this mystery girl might have stolen the heart of our favorite musical heartthrob)

I then look at Saraí and try to snatch the remote from her again but she yells and tries to get it back. "Que haces?!?" (What are you doing?!?)

"Lo quiero ver!!!" She complains and I just shake my head. (I wanna watch!!)

"Porque? Son puras mentiras y exageran todo posible!!" I say trying not to give myself anyway. (Why? They're all just lies and they exaggerate everything possible!!)

"Y que te importa?! Ni te gusta-" (and why do you care?! You don't even like him-)

"No pero para que quieres caer en mentiras de los reporteros!?!" I say and push the remote towards me but she wasn't budging. (but why do you wanna fall for the lord of those reporters!?!)

"Oigan!! Ya paren!" My dad yells but we still don't stop. (Listen!! Stop that now!)

Suddenly my grandma stands up and reaches behind her to grab her car keys, "ya se! Esta hermoso afuera, saquen el caro y vayan a la playa!" (Oh I know! It's gorgeous outside, take the car out and go to the beach!)

She threw the keys to Saraí who let go of the remote and caught the keys with ease, "gracias abue!!" (thanks grandma!!) 

She skips out of the kitchen until my mom yells at her, "Lleva a tu hermana!!!" (Take your sister!!!)

She groans and stomps her feet on the ground then walks off. My mom turns to me and gives me a look before nodding to where Saraí made her dramatic exit. "Ve." (Go)

And just like that we had made our way to the beach, Saraí found a lucky spot really close to the beach. I took off my seatbelt and got out of the car. "Why are we in Malibu? Weren't we gonna go to Venice?" I ask and she rolls her eyes as she gets out and walks to the trunk of the car.

"Because Miguel surfs in Malibu." She says matter-of-factly earning herself a glare.

Jesus she's obsessed.

She gets the beach chair she got for herself and closes the trunk then locks the car. I follow her lead as she squeals and looks left to right. On the lookout.

"Today is the day- I feel it in my bones, he's here." She says and I just chuckle.

"Sure he is." I say sarcastically but she just ignores me.

"I'm praying he's not with Lyla, she's not pretty enough for him." She says making me laugh. Damn.

"I wonder what his eyes look like.... Like really up close...." She rambles and lets out a sigh.

"Chocolate brown. A really pretty brown." I imply but she just completely ignores me and runs off to a random direction.

I stand there watching her leave me and scoff. Sisters.

I sigh and take a look around the beach to see where I can sit and just chill without her nagging me about that man anymore.

Suddenly I see something familiar out of the corner of my eye and I look around me and see that no one has noticed what I have.

I shrug and stroll on over to a man sitting by himself next to an empty chair, "hey is this seat taken?"

I walk behind the chair and place my bag on the floor, taking a seat ignoring that he didn't respond. "Don't mind if I do." I tell the man and sigh.

"Esta tan bonito afuera hoy, no crees?" I turn to look at the familiar man who I ended up spending a lot of time with yesterday. (It's so pretty outside today, don't you think?)

He then shifts in his seat and I can't tell if he's recognized me or not but I'll have some fun with this. "Ay perdón estaba dormido- lo desperté?" I ask and smile. (Oh I'm sorry you were asleep- did I wake you?)

He shakes his head and looks down crossing his arms against his chest, as if a small ass hat and little sunglasses are gonna hide his big stature.

"No? Ah que bueno! Me puede poner bloqueador en la espalda?" I ask teaching over to my bag and pulling up a bottle of sunscreen. (That's good! Can you put sunscreen on my back?)

He then turns to look at me and tips his glasses down so I could see his eyes, then laughs and shakes his head. "Como sabías que fui yo?" He asks and gives me that smile I've now seen plenty of times. Jesus. (How'd you know it was me?)

"La cachucha." I respond and look up at my grandpas hat. (The hat)

"It smells like grass." He says making me chuckle.

"Might just be you." I reply and he laughs.

He gives me another smile before taking off his glasses and turning to face me, "what are you doing here?"

"What are you doing here? Go home." I joke and he sighs.

"I tried...."

"And?"

He looks away and waves me off, "no lo entenderías." (You wouldn't understand)

I scoff and roll my eyes, "ahh entonces crees que eres tan especial que alguien normal como yo no podría entender que difícil es ser tu?" (so you think that you're so special that someone normal like me isn't able to understand how hard it is to be you?)

He laughs then shrug, turning his head to face me again, "hay diez carros de los chismosos afuera de mi casa." (there's ten cars filled with paparazzi outside my house)

"Damn.... That's fucked..." I mutter and refrain from saying something stupid.

He hums in agreement and we sit there in silence for a few seconds before he speaks again, "necesito un carro que ellos no reconozcan para ir a las casa." (I need a car that they don't recognize so I can go home)

I hum and fight the urge to offer our car, I couldn't even imagine him driving abuela's baby pink beetle. He definitely wouldn't fit in it anyway.

Then he looks me up and down, plotting something and asks, "que estás manejando tu?" (what are you driving?)

I grin and lean towards him, "oh you'll love it, it's a classic. Really pretty."

I bite my lip to not laugh and he smiles, "perfect I could pay you-"

"Stop- stop doing that-"

"Stop doing what?”

"Throwing your money around like that. Todavia me debes cinco mil por quedarte en el garaje de la abue." I say and he chuckles. (You still owe me five thousand for staying at my grandma's garage)

He smiles at me and I smile back, "give me your keys." I say and bring my hand up to him and motion for him to give me them.

"Why....." he asks and raises an eyebrow. As if he couldn't trust me.

I could've easily asked for more money... I really should've..

"Well if you're gonna have our car you can't just leave us without one." I say and he hesitates.

His face crunches up and it really looks like he's about to change his mind. He cannot be serious....

He reaches down to his pocket and grabs his keys, I open then close my hand ready to snatch em as soon as he gives them to me. He brings them up and right as I was gonna close my hand he pulls them away. I give him a look and he gives me one right back. "Okay listen-" I try to grab them but he pulls them back.

"She's a-" I try to snatch them again but he brings his hand up. Oh my fucking god-

"She's a three hundred and twenty horsepower-" he brings his hand down slightly and I try to grab it but again he moves it. This piece of shit-

"1998 model-" Hand comes back down and I quickly try to grab it but again no use.

"Brand new wrap-" He moved his hand making me groan.

"Look I love Gabi okay?" He says with such a serious look and tone.

"Gabi?"

He nods and I prevent the urge to roll my eyes at him, "you name your cars?"

He nods again hesitantly and I now grab the keys from his hand. I give him a look then roll my eyes getting up and walking over to where Saraí was tanning.

I tip toed to her which didn't matter because she had headphones on and eyes were closed. Perfect.

I grab the keys to grandma's car then slide in Miguel's keys before making my way back to him.

I motion for him to follow me and he stands up, jogging over to me as I lead him to his hot new ride. I walk us towards where the beetle is with Miguel on my tail and still on the lookout.

I then stop in front of the car and grin up at him, "Miguel meet Petunia."

He stops and blings his sunglasses down, face disgusted. "Bring her back within the next hour." I tell him and grab his hand, putting the keys on his hand while letting out giggles.

Suddenly he grabs me and pulls me down, hiding us behind the car while mumbling to himself. "How the hell did they find me-" he says grabbing my hand and making me follow him to be by the hood of the car.

"Oh please my sister found you easily and we're from Detroit." I mumble and he turns to look at me for a second with a puzzled look and I just shrug.

We then hear the sound of vans pulling up to the parking lots and doors opening with people talking. He lets go of my hand and takes his glasses off, "here put them on."

I take them and look at them for a few seconds before he gives me a look, "Now. And get in."

I lift my hands up in fake defense and put them on as  he goes to the drivers seat. I walk on over to the passenger seat and fix the glasses when the door opens and hits me in the face.

I fall back and I quickly get up to glare at him through the window, "you cannot be serious- quit fucking hitting me O'Hara." I hiss and he shoots me an apologetic smile.

"I'm so sorry- I'm sorry- get in- get in-" he mumbled and I roll my eyes, opening the door and hop in.

He then opens the glove compartment and goes through it, "what the fuck are you doing now-"

He shushes me and pulls out a scarf and hands it to me, "put this on."

"Why-"

"Just do it."

"Okay Nike sponsorship." I mutter and wrap it around my head.

He then starts the car and start to reverse, he propped his shoulder up and his head down then leaned over as if he had back issues. I bring the glasses to my nose and hold my breath, sinking int the sink as I felt and heard the paparazzi outside the car thinking he was in here. Which they technically weren't wrong about.

But nonetheless they groaned and pulled the cameras away from the car and us. Thank god.

After leaving the beach I let out a sigh and turn my head to look at him, "manejas como mi abuelo!" (you drive like my grandpa!)

He shifts and gets more comfortable, "Y tu te ves como mi abuela!" He jokes making us both laugh as I looked forward and to the highway while taking off the scarf. (And you look like my grandma)

"Necesito mis lentes." He says and I smile, shrugging feeling his gaze on me. (I need my glasses)

"No se... creo que me gustan..." I say and fix my hair, putting some strands behind my ear. (I don't know.... I think I like them...)

"Te los regalo... al rato." He says and I gasp. (I'll give them to you... later)

"De verdad?!?" I ask then quickly continue trying to mimic Saraí, "mis amigas nunca me lo van a creer que yo, tengo un par de Miguel O'Hara lentes que el mismísimo Miguel O'Hara se a puesto!!" (For real?!? My friends will never believe that I, have a pair of Miguel O'Hara sunglasses that have been worn by Miguel O'Hara himself!!!)

I then gasp and turn my body to face him, "me los firmas porfis?!?" I beg and he just rolls his eyes. (Sign them for me please?!?)

"Te crees bien graciosa eh?" He says making me grin and nod. (You think you're so funny)

"Que?" I tease and give him an innocent smile. "No pero de verdad si quiero estos lentes." I say and look at the dark maroon color of the frames. (What? No but seriously I want those glasses)

"Un huh... dámelos. Come on." He says and does grabby hands. (Give me them)

I sigh and take them off handing them over to him. "So how long am I stuck with you this time?" I ask earning myself a laugh.

"Until the paps leave the beach...." He says then turns to look at me, "let's go do something."

"Like what?" I ask and raise an eyebrow at him.

"Anything. What have you seen since you got here?"

"Nothing. I've been too busy following you around." I say and his eyes bright up.

"Really?" He says in a soft tone and I just playfully roll my eyes.

"With my sister... she idolizes you." I say and he shakes his head, rolling his eyes.

Why'd it seem like he was disappointed?

I shrug and continue, "I mean I couldn't care less about you or your city."

He gasps and shakes his head in disbelief, "I already knew you didn't like me but you don't have to take it out on Los Angeles. It's a beautiful city."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, yknow what, I'll be your tour guide."

"I thought you were going home..."

"Meh I'll just take the long way." He says and gives me that smile as he puts his glasses back on.

He turns the radio on and just to my luck his song came on. He gives me a grin and I just sigh, relaxing into my seat as he drives us to who knows where.

He ended up taking me to Santa Monica Pier, Venice beach, Rodeo Drive to buy me stuff (which I wasn't complaining about), the walk of fame to see the stars of my actual favorite celebrities, to the Hollywood sign which was huge in person.

He had bought me a Polaroid camera while we were at the pier and ended up using all the film, and he bought me a two pack. Now I just had forty little Polaroid pictures in my purse along with other cute souvenirs.

We were singing along to the songs on the radio when I noticed he drove us back to his house. "Gonna keep me for longer huh?" I tease and chuckle, looking up at the huge mansion he calls home.

He smiles and nods as he parks in front of his house and unlocks the doors. I unbuckle my seatbelt and open the door getting out of the car.

I had shocked myself today, actually enjoying myself and letting myself not be so judgmental of Miguel as well as getting to know the real him. He was nice, very sarcastic and somewhat funny. But I'm not gonna admit that to his face.

I was appalled when finding out he wasn't narcissistic or rude and was actually chill and fun to be around. Again not admitting that to his face.

And he was a total gentlemen, opening doors for me, paying for everything even though I kept fighting him on it. It felt like a first date even though our circumstances were just odd and weird. And it technically wasn't even a date.

I followed him inside and he beckoned me over to his living room while he went to get us something to drink. I plopped down on the longer couch and it felt like a cloud.

Didn't even look too luxurious which was a green flag in my books. I laid back and sighed, what have these two days been?

How did this happen to me? And why was I enjoying it more than I thought I would?

Miguel comes back with two glasses and a bottle of wine, I laugh as he sets them on the coffee table in front of me. He pours both glasses and hands me one which I gladly took.

Free wine? Say less.

I take a sip then immediately take another, was pretty good...

He plops down next to me and I turn my body to face him, I couldn't even deny how attractive he was. Not that I did before but he just looked really good today...

Kept giving me that look with those eyes and that pretty smile flashing me his pearly whites that were the smallest bit crooked but still looked pretty.

I take another sip then place the glass on the table and put all my attention to him. "So couldn't get enough of me, you had to bring me back?" I tease and lean my side into the couch.

He laughs and shrugs, "Well I thought we had a fun day..." he says and scoots closer to me.

I nod and try not to react too much, if he moved just a tiny bit more his leg will be touching mine... and I wouldn't even mind.

"And I thought why not continue the fun..." he says and leans in, his face now much closer to mine.

I felt my skin grow warm and tried to calm my breathing. Why was he making me so nervous?

Did one day really just change my entire mindset on him?

"Surely this isn't the wine hitting you already right?" I tease in a softer tone, wanting some kind of reassurance I'm not imagining things. No way I'm delusional after the day we've had...

He laughs then gives me a smile, "it's definitely not the wine."

I hum and nod, my cheeks growing warmer by the second and I just prayed he couldn't see it. This felt so embarrassing.

"Is this okay?" He whispers and scoots until there was no more space between us.

His leg was touching mine and I couldn't trust myself to speak so I only nodded. He then reached over and placed his glass on the table before leaning back on the couch, turning to face me. Why did he have to look so good?

Even better up close-

My thoughts were cut short when I felt him place his hand on my thigh, touching my bare skin. I looked into his eyes noticing he was even closer now, my nerves never leaving my body. I look down to his lips and god I really wanted to kiss him.

As if thinking the same I was, he brought his other hand up to cup my cheek and leans in. I close my eyes and close the gap, kissing him gently. He kisses back instantly and I feel his hand squeeze my thigh then running his fingers up and down making me gasp.

He slides his tongue in and I gladly let him, bring my hands up to the back of his neck to play with his hair. I twirl some curls between my fingers then lightly pull on them, earning myself a groan from him.

I felt myself growing more needy, craving more and feeling the familiar heat rising down to my core so I squeezed my thighs together then pulled away for a second and nibbled on his bottom lip. I felt his hand graze my inner thigh, fingers slipping under my shorts making me let out a sigh.

He turned my head and attached his lips to my neck, leaving wet kisses all over while his fingers kept rubbing but not where I needed them most. I tilted my head back and spread my legs to which he slid his hand up and to the zipper of my shorts.

He sucked gently on my skin then kissed it a few times before I felt his hands slip down. I let out a whine and buck my hips up, to which i then felt his touch right above my centre. I squirmed and was about to lay my head back until he grabbed me, moving my body and placed me between his legs.

His hands trailed down my legs slowly then came back up and to my stomach. Thinking he'd stop there I was left shocked seeing and feeling his fingertips work their way between my tits then back down.

I laid my head back against his hard chest and let out a shaky breath. He turns his head to kiss my neck and continue his grazing. I was already breathless and he's barely touched me, I needed him.

"Estas tan hermosa." He whispers in my ear making me whimper and squirm against him, now directly on his crotch. (You're so beautiful)

"Miguel-" I breathe out but cuts me off by pecking my lips softly.

I moan into his mouth then feel his fingers coming back up but this time he groped my tits with both hands. I whined and grind against him as he continues kissing me, leaving me a mess already.

He groans and squeezes them, fondling them in his hands as I kiss him back. Suddenly he brings a hand down, slowly trailing it down my body until he reaches the waistband of my shorts.

He undos it then quickly pulls the zipper down before quickly sliding his hand in and starts rubbing my soaked cunt through my panties. I feel my eyes fluttering as he moves his hand steadily while I bring my left hand to grip his left arm that was now pinching my nipple.

I bite my lip, moving my hips up and down, needing more. "Miguel por favor-" I breathe out and he just hums. (please)

"Dime que quieres nena, te quiero escuchar." He purrs into my ear making me whimper. (Tell me what you want baby girl, I wanna hear you)

"I- fuck-" I mutter and close my mouth with my right hand.

He was now rubbing circles over my clit, so fucking slowly. This piece of shit thought it was nice to tease me like this?!? As if he couldn't feel how badly I wanted this...

"Dime que quieres amor." He murmurs continuing his teasing pace as I buck my hips up but still doesn't change anything. (Tell me what you want love)

"Te necesito Miguel- por favor-" I plead and whimper when he slows down again. (I need you- please-)

"Me necesitas?" He mocks in my ear and I just nod repeatedly as he speeds up the tiniest bit. (You need me?)

"Pero todavía no haz dicho que quieres nena..." he murmurs and leaves a soft kiss on my neck. (But you still haven't said what you want baby girl...)

I felt my eyes flutter and a blush rose to my cheeks, why did he have to sound so perfect?

Just his words alone were enough to make me more wet for him. He was driving me insane.

"N-necesito tus dedos..." I whimper and spread my legs as he moves my panties to the side, "por favor fóllame con tus dedos-" I whine and he slides two of his long fingers inside without another word. (need your fingers, please fuck me with your fingers-)

I gasp feeling them fill me up, surprised to feel how thick they were. I felt my legs shake slightly while I tried to keep my breathing steady considering he was just starting. He was already filling me up so nicely and it felt incredible. "So tight and wet for me baby." He whispers and pumps his fingers inside me, my walls enveloping them.

He worked on my cunt almost expertly, curling them up making me arch my back against him. With his available hand he wrapped it around my waist, as if to make me refrain from moving. "Miguel- M-Miguel-"

He hummed and started going faster, I could feel my creamy juices slip down to my asshole as he went faster and deeper. I let out whines and closed my eyes when I feel his lips on my cheek then on my ear. "Such a pretty mess for me huh baby?"

I whimpered and couldn't help but clench against his fingers making me let out more whimpers. "S-so good-" I moan out and kisses my neck softly.

"I know baby, I know." He murmurs and goes even faster leaving me a moaning mess on top of him.

"Estas tomando mis dedos tan bien princesa." He praised making me whimper and clench against him once again. (You're taking my fingers so well princess)

"Te gusta que te hable así hm?" He teases and I open my eyes only to roll them and bite my lip. (You like when I talk to you like that)

Starting to despise him again, I hated his teasing but couldn't help but like it.

"Contéstame nena." He purrs in a low tone, that making my orgasm quickly approach. (Answer me baby)

"Si- si me gusta mucho- me encanta como me hablas-" I moan out and he slows down but fucks me deeper. (Yes- yes I like it a lot- I love way you talk to me-)

"Good girl." He moans and starts pumping his fingers faster again.

I whimpered and tried to buck my hips up but his strong arm didn't let me and just gripped me to stay still. I held on to it and laid my head back against his chest, then look down at the sight. His fingers fucking me effortlessly with my arousal being the main thing that's being heard in the room. "Aren't you just taking it so well baby?" He purrs and I nod, looking up to look at him.

I crash our lips together and he suddenly starts fucking me even faster making me moan against his mouth. He slides his tongue inside my mouth as I continue moaning and try to kiss back.

I felt the familiar feeling of my orgasm approach in the pit of my stomach as he continued fucking me fast as well as deep. "I'm gonna-" i murmur against his lips and he just hums, continuing with our kiss.

I glide my tongue against his but then stop, letting out whines and whimpers as my orgasm hit me hard with Miguel not stopping. "Fuck- Miguel!" I whimper feeling my legs shaking violently.

He lets me ride my orgasm and slows his pace down as he gives me light pecks while I try to catch my breath. He then pulls away after one final peck and leans his forehead against mine. Not able to keep my eyes open, I lean into his touch, a weak smile forming on my lips. "That was incredible." I say and let out a small giggle.

He nods and grins, "you did so good love."

He kisses me softly and I kiss him back the same way when I feel him slowly slip his fingers out of me. His fingers come out and I feel more of my juices slip down to my asshole, "oh my god baby-" he moans and brings his fingers up to our faces.

I grab his hand and lazily open my mouth, taking his fingers into my mouth and lick my arousal clean. I looked at him and innocently bat my eyes while he groans. I made sure to lick every drop before he finally slips his fingers out and crashes his lips onto mine.

I immediately kiss back and move my body to no longer be on his crotch but on the couch with my legs over his thighs. His tongue slid into my mouth making me melt as I felt one hand go to cup my jaw and the other to my thigh.

He rubbed my skin softly and I felt myself melt into his embrace, "you're incredible." He murmurs against my mouth making me pull away.

I lean my head against his chest as he now wraps both arms around my body, feeling shivers run down my spine. "No you are." I whisper and chuckle.

Then we just sat there in comfortable silence, I was listening to his heartbeat as he played with my hair and my breathing was now back to normal.

"So do you like me now?" He whispers and I burst out laughing.

I then stop and shrug, "maybe a little bit..."

[forever1kay]

POWER TRIP !!

Summary: When Miles is forced on a vacation with his mother and a bunch of people from his mom’s past, he expects to be miserable the entire time. But little does he know, you’re lots of fun to be around…

Pairing: Earth 42 Miles x Fem!Black!Reader (Both are 17)

Notes: My friend did not have time to translate for me so I had to take matters into my own hands and use SpanishDict and DeepL. If the translations are shit, please correct me in the comments. I’d really appreciate it. Also, If I mentioned anything about Miles’ hair being in a low ponytail or a bun, I meant what I said. He reminds me of Latrelle from on my block so his hair is very versatile in my mind💀 With that being said, I hope you all enjoy!

Warning(s): Implied Grumpy x Sunshine trope, profanity of course, Rio is definitely an instigator (she means well), Miles is annoyed for majority of the story, rushed relationship, Y/n’s dad is annoying, teenagers in love (you wish that was you huh?) Let me know if I forgot anything!!

When Miles’ mother bursts into his room, speaking in frantic Spanglish about how Miles needs to pack a bag, he has to stop and look at the expression on her face to realize nothing is wrong and he doesn’t need to kill anyone tonight.

His mother tells him that a few of her closest friends from high school had found her Facebook and wanted to meet up, and he couldn’t stay home alone after that stunt he pulled last week when she had to work extra hours at the hospital. And not only did he have to go, but he had to bring his younger cousin Dillon as well so his uncle Aaron could “handle some business.”

Miles just sighed, knowing he couldn’t argue with his mother and began to pack his bags. Three days later, him, Dillon, and his mother had landed in Orlando and were standing in the lobby of an overly colorful hotel. As his mother was checking in, Miles realized he’d rather be anywhere else.

After receiving their right room numbers, the three of them walked to their rooms to settle in before returning to the lobby, where all hell broke loose.

His mother had made the decision to scream and approach two other women who were also screaming. Miles could only shake his head and wish to go home. He thought about escape routes, ride arrangements, and even the possibility of staying at Uncle Aaron's house.

However, his inner thoughts were interrupted as his face was forced into someone's chest.

“Lil’ man!” A random chubby man yelled, his hand tangled into Miles curly ponytail. “You was this big last time I seen you! You done grew some! How old you is?”

“I’m seventeen.” Miles said, his voice muffled by the guy’s chest.

“Seventeen! Damn, how time flies by. You remember me?”

“Nah.” Miles said curtly.

“Miles.” His mother started, raising an eyebrow.

“I don’t, ma. ¿Querías que mintiera?”

“Watch the attitude, Miles.” She said, thumping him on the forehead before embracing the strange man and the two screaming women. “These are my friends from high school. Michael, Linda, and Nicole.”

“Nice to meet you.” Dillon and Miles said in unison.

Linda grabbed Michael’s hand before gesturing to the children behind her. “These are our kids; Y/n and Jacob.”

Nicole then joined in. “And these are my sons, Jonny and Tito.”

Miles looks to each kid as they’re being introduced, but he lets his eyes linger on Y/n a little longer until Tito spoke.

“En realidad, mi nombre es Salvador. No Tito. I don’t know why they still call me that.”

Miles chuckles. “I feel you.”

“So how old are you all now?” Miles’ mother asks, squeezing her friends’ children into a hug.

The kids all name their age, and Rio gets excited immediately.

“Y/n and Miles you’re the same age! And Jacob you’re the same age as Dillon! You can all be such great friends. ¡Qué amoroso!”

The adults talk about their kids closeness in age for a second before Rio opens her mouth again.

“Papá, sé amable y ayúdala con sus maletas.”

“No necesita mi ayuda, mami.”

“Miles.”

“Vale, vale…”

“Y/n!” Rio yelled excitedly, gaining your attention. “Miles will help you with your bags.”

You waved your hands and shook your head frantically. “Oh, Mrs. Morales it’s okay! My dad can-“

“Oh don’t worry about him, I insist! Go, Miles.”

Miles sighs as silently as he can and then grabs all four of Y/n’s bags effortlessly, looking at her to lead the way to her room.

“Come back quickly!” Michael yelled, fixing his voice to make it sound deeper than it already was. “Put the bags down and that’s all.”

“Okay, dad. Chill.”

Y/n and Miles walk in silence, never speaking a word to each other although Y/n's stare spoke volumes.

They return to the lobby mostly silently after setting the bags down, with Y/n opening and closing her mouth a few times but never really managing to say anything but “do you like bread?” Which earned her a side eye from Miles.

When they got back, Jonny told them what the adults had decided.

“We’re going to Disney springs.”

Together with a few other hotel guests, the ten of them boarded the Disney shuttle bus and left.

When they got there, the adults made the decision to play a game of rock, paper, scissors to determine where they would all have dinner tonight. Nicole won and decided to let the kids choose.

Michael made an attempt to bribe them into choosing the T-Rex Café, but they all side eyed him and chose Planet Hollywood.

When they arrived, a makeshift red carpet led up to the entryway. Somewhere in the middle, one of the employees offered to take a group photo of them.

Miles took three pictures, two of them courtesy of his mother who insisted they were pictures he should be taking.

One as a group, one with his mother, himself, and Dillon, and one with Y/n.

Both were a little awkward. The former had Rio kissing Miles on the face and pinching Dillon's cheek in public, while the latter… was an interesting thing to talk about.

After taking a picture with his mother and cousin, Miles was about to walk away when Mom stopped him and said

“Y/n! Would you like to take a picture with Miles?”

Miles was so shocked that he couldn’t speak, and Y/n would have dropped her phone had it not been for Jacob's fast reflexes.

“O-oh, no Mrs. Morales, he doesn’t even want to take a picture and I myself am so of tired of pictures, you know, with the flash and everything.”

“Girl don’t play with me.” Linda spoke, inserting herself into their conversation. “You’re a model. You do this for a living. Just take a quick picture with Miles and we can go.”

“Baby she don’t need to take a picture with no boys.” Michael whined, turning his wife to face him.

“You know he’s a good kid, Mike. He’s Rio’s son.”

Y/n's parents continued to argue as she nervously walked over to Miles on the carpet while Rio and the photographer instructed them to smile.

Although Miles didn't smile, he calmly wrapped his arm around Y/n, who jumped at the touch and stared up at him in shock.

“Smile for me, ángel.” Miles spoke lowly enough for only Y/n to hear, meeting her eyes and smirking.

After taking the photo, the photographer gave it to Rio and instructed them to enter the restaurant. Miles walked away from Y/n without another word.

After that awkward fiasco, the group entered the restaurant and were immediately welcomed and seated. Y/n ultimately found herself seated next to Miles, and she could not stop worrying about whether or not her chewing would be too loud. But instead of thinking in her head like normal people, Y/n muttered under her breath, a lot like Deku from My Hero Academia (ifykyk).

Miles noticed and chuckled to himself.

A server took their order a little while later, and a short while after that, they left to look around at the movie props and film scripts around the restaurant.

Later that night, the adults left their kids some money and went on a hot air balloon ride. Since Miles already had money of his own, he gave Dillon the borrowed money and then walked away alone.

Well, at least he thought he was alone.

When he realized he wasn’t, he nearly backhanded the intruder, but they were quicker than he'd thought and caught his wrist.

“Um, okay. Wow. I definitely could’ve died.” Y/n spoke, dropping Miles’ wrist.

“My bad.” Miles spoke, looking her up and down. “Why didn’t you go with everyone else? They need someone to watch after them.”

“Trust me, they don’t. Salvador is very responsible.” She informed him. “Besides, how do you know I’m responsible enough to watch over them?”

Miles shrugged and moved away from Y/n to lean onto the only railing that separates them from the water. "I don't."

Y/n chuckled and then followed him, leaning against the same railing but facing Miles.

Miles gave her a stank face. “I actually came over here to remove myself from you…”

Y/n shrugs. “You intrigue me.”

“Yeah?” Y/n nods. “How so?”

“Well I don’t know.” Y/n shrugs, “In my experience, silent people are the most interesting.”

“Or the most deadly, depends on who you know.”

“Cmon, drop the hood nigga persona and let’s be besties for the rest of this trip.”

“Nah.”

“It’ll be fun!”

Miles rolls his eyes. “You are something else.”

“I know, you’ll get used to it eventually. Three months top.”

“You said for the rest of this trip.”

“Well obviously I lied.”

“She lied. Of course she did.” Miles spoke to himself. “We can’t just be civil and be quiet?”

“No, we have to be besties. It’s the only way or else I’ll cry and your mom will let my dad beat you up.”

“He can try, but I can fight.”

“Please!”

“No.”

“Please!”

“No.”

“Come onnnnn!!”

“No.”

“Miles!”

“Okay, mama. Okay. I’ll be your Bestie for the rest of the trip.”

“You won’t regret it! Okay, now let’s go have fun!”

Surprisingly, Miles let Y/n to lead him aimlessly around Disney Springs until they left. The following few days, he allowed her to continue dragging him around.

When it came time for everyone to return home, Y/n's family made the decision to take drop everyone else off at the airport (since the four of them actually lived in Florida and didn't need to leave the state).

This time, Y/n was the one insisting something. That something being walking them into the airport while Rio insisted that it was fine.

Y/n won, which meant her dad had also decided to walk them in just “to make sure Y/n won’t get lost.”

“So,” Y/n started, linking her pinky with Miles who surprisingly enough didn’t seem to have a problem with it, “How was it to be my Bestie for a week?”

Miles chuckled. “You’re not all that bad.”

“I’m not all that bad? Don’t you mean it was the best experience of your life and you can’t wait to see me again?”

“Nah, I ain’t say all that.”

“But you meant it. It’s okay to admit that I’m super funny and cool and pretty and you absolutely love me.”

Miles chuckled again, which was out of character for him.

Rio checked the time and spoke up

"Miles, dile adiós. Tenemos que irnos. Te esperaré allí.”

Miles nods and turns to face Y/n, but Rio quickly pushes him aside and embraces the girl.

“It was so nice to see you again, hermosa! We’ll have to keep better contact so we can see you and your family again, okay?”

“Okay, Mrs Morales! It was so nice to meet you in person and I really enjoyed your company this weekend. You’re so sweet!”

“No, you’re so sweet! Much love to you sweetie, we’ll plan something soon.” She kisses you on the cheek before pulling your father out of the way so you and Miles can have a moment.

“So,” Miles turns to you, but gets interrupted by you throwing your arms around him.

“I’m gonna miss you, bestie!”

Miles smiles down at her, finally wrapping his arms around her waist. “I’m gonna miss you too, mama.”

“See, I knew you loved me.”

Miles' eyesight travels from her lips to her eyes and back again. Naturally, Y/n can't keep quiet.

“You look like you want to kiss me.”

“Quiero besarte.”

“Do it, no balls.”

Miles chuckles before kissing Y/n twice on the lips and trying to lean in once again, but of course both of their parents broke up them up by clapping and raising their voices in protest.

Yet again, Y/n can’t keep quiet.

She looks up at Miles with hearts in her eyes. “…you taste like strawberries and rainbows.”

Miles rolls his eyes before pecking Y/n's lips once more, prompting yet another outburst from their parents.

"Cálmate, mami. Please!” Miles whined while Y/n shook her head at her father with wide eyes.

Y/n grinned as she pulled away from Miles and pulled her phone from her back pocket. “I don't have your number.

Miles took her phone and swiftly entered his number before handing it back to her and holding her hands in his, gently moving backward as he does so. "Let’s keep in touch, yeah?"

Y/n nods, saying bye to Miles as he pulls away and walks over to his mom, of course waving a goodbye to Y/n’s dad as well.

BONUS:

When he got home later and took his phone off of airplane mode, Miles felt his phone buzz in his pocket with a text from an unknown number who he could only assume was you..

Translations (may be inaccurate or in Spain Spanish btw, so please correct me if needed):

¿Querías que mintiera? - Did you want me to lie?

En realidad, mi nombre es Salvador. No Tito. - Actually, my name is Salvador. Not Tito.

¡Qué amoroso! - How sweet!

Sé amable y ayúdala con sus maletas - be kind and help her with her bags.

No necesita mi ayuda, mami. - She doesn’t need my help, mommy.

Vale, vale… - Okay, okay…

Miles, dile adiós. Tenemos que irnos. Te esperaré allí. - Miles, say goodbye. We have to go. I’ll wait for you over there.

Quiero besarte. - I want to kiss you.

Cálmate, mami - Calm down, mommy

© forever1kay 2023 - please don’t translate, convert, copy, paraphrase, repost, or alter any of my works without my permission.

[ihrthoney]

racing heart

pairings: single!dad draken x f!reader

warnings: angst if you squint, fluff! slightly suggestive towards the end?

word count: 1.8k

an: the awaited part two to heartbeat! might make this into a mini series!

1. i tried to choose a baby name that wasn’t used in the series yet… then i just now remembered.. sanzu haruchiyo 😭 2. haru means (this is from google please don’t bully me LMAO) light, sun, joy, spring. i thought drakens baby would be his light & joy :)

(tagging those who wanted a part 2: @aetheriis @lonelyheart-clubband @honeipie @peachymmk98 )

Quickly touching up your look, you were accessorizing when you froze hearing three knocks on your door. Looking at the time, Ken was 15 minutes early.

Ken had, ever so sweetly, asked to take you on another date, tonight being your third. He was supposed to pick you up at 7:30 and take you to see the fireworks but you start to question the night’s plans when you open the door.

“Hey, beautiful, I’m so sorry, I know it’s extremely last minute but I’m going to have to raincheck our date.” Taking in the fact that he was carrying his son, you could put two and two together, albeit a little bummed, seeing his son made any sadness disappear.

“Emma got called into work, something about an emergency, and we don’t hire babysitters, the only ones who watch Haru are our friends and they’re all unfortu-” Understandingly, you reassuringly caressed his arm, “You don’t have to explain yourself, I understand. Life happens, you’re a parent. Haru always comes first, no question.”

Ken’s rambling ceases and he can’t help but stare at you, the need to kiss you so strong but he doesn't want to confuse his son. ”If it’s okay with you, can we hang here for a while?” There’s no doubt in your mind, he was always welcome in your home. Moving aside as a sign for his entrance, you tell him to make himself at home while you change your clothes.

“I am so sorry again, you look absolutely gorgeous, I promise to take you out soon pretty.” Waving him off to hide your blushing, you quickly make your way to your room.

Draken can’t help but feel guilty, he wanted to spend some alone time with you (to kiss you breathless of course). After your first date, he had realized, stupidly, that he never got your number. A squealing Hina excitedly gave him your number, hoping to hear about your next date.

On your second date, Ken took you to the aquarium. Truthfully, he enjoyed your reactions to the animals more than the animals themself. The awe on your face as you point out all the animals, making a game of saying every animal that was close together was “us in another life”. It was silly but he wouldn’t dare to ruin your fun, instead joining you in pointing out animals.

After the date, he treated you to a lovely lunch, after a horrifying(ly safe) drive on his bike. To say you were terrified was an understatement, but to be fair you had never been on a motorcycle. However, the pleading look on his face and the constant reassurances made you hop on. Ken had the nerve to laugh at your anxious state, saying you could hold onto him as tight as you wanted. Had you not been genuinely afraid, you would’ve scoffed at his smug grin but hold on for dear life you did.

As you were changing into comfier clothes, it suddenly dawned on you that you were meeting Ken’s baby for the first time. The realization that his baby could, possibly, not like you scared you more than riding on his bike.

Babies tend to sense the intentions of people, whether it was true or not, the thought scared you. Never would you ever want to cause any discomfort for Haru, so if being around you made him uncomfortable you wouldn’t hesitate to keep your distance.

The thought made you sad as you really liked Ken, but he was a parent before anything else. There’s not a chance you would choose your own feelings over his baby’s.

A knock on your door brings you back, a worried Draken on the other side of the door, “Are you okay in there? It’s been a little while.” Hurriedly, you opened the door and somehow the raven looked even more worried than he sounded.

“I’m good! Sorry, just got lost in thought.” Adorably, his brows wrinkled in confusion but you shake your head in dismissal. Before you could pass him, Ken gently grabs your arm to pause your movements, “Talk to me, pretty.”

Draken had such an understanding aura that it was hard to keep anything from him, despite trying to avoid his stare you look towards your living room, “What about Haru?”

Like the man he is, Ken turns your face back to his, moving his hand from your arm to your waist, pulling you close to him, “I put him down for a nap, what’s bothering you?”

Sighing in defeat, you give in (not that you tried all that hard to fight him), “I’m afraid Haru isn’t going to like me. I know it’s silly but I’m genuinely worried I’m going to frighten him.” Draken can’t help but kiss your frown away, it warms his heart that you care about his baby’s opinion despite him being merely 2 years old.

“Sweetheart, sometimes, Haru doesn’t even like me. Don’t laugh! I’m serious, he will scream if I touch a certain cup, apparently only his mama can touch it. Even if he doesn’t warm up to you right away, he will eventually.” At this point, Ken is tightly embracing you, hoping you can hear how fast his heart beats for you. Just as tightly, you hug him back, laying your head right above his racing heart.

You both stay in each other’s hold for a little while, until Ken offers, “How about we watch a movie and I make us some dinner, okay?”

Looking up, you jokingly ask “Like a date?”

“If you’ll have us, of course.”

How could you ever say no to him?

-

Making your way to the living room, he asks you to watch over Haru, and if he wakes up or starts to fuss to just call for him. The way your apartment is formatted, you can see the living room from the kitchen so calling Ken wouldn’t be difficult.

Before getting started on dinner, you insisted you could cook something but Ken stubbornly said he owed you a dinner; He even let you choose the movie for the night.

Settling on your couch, you watch as Haru lays on his thick blanket on the floor, neatly wrapped in his blanket. The sight was adorable, a little mop of blonde hair splayed out. Somehow, watching the little bundle of love dissipates any fear you previously had.

Like Ken had said, if he didn’t like you at first, you would do everything in your power to make him love you.

You don’t realize how long you’ve been staring at Haru until Ken comes into the living room to tell you the food is ready. Yet again. he breaks you out of a daze. It’s extremely insane to think, given the fact that Ken’s son is only two and this would’ve been your third date, but your mind wanders to the possibility of a future with Ken.

Blinking the thought from your head, you help Ken bring the food to the dining table, kiss him on the cheek as a thank you, and eat the delicious food. Just as you were putting the dishes away, haru started to stir awake. Thankfully, in a seemingly good mood.

The baby blinked awake, slowly taking in his surroundings and smiling at the sight of his dad. However, when Haru’s eyes moved to your figure, they widened, “It’s okay Haru, this is y/n, she’s nice I promise. Way nicer than Uncle Mikey.” At the name of his uncle, Haru smiles again and slowly wobbles his way to his dad.

Ken crouches down to carry his baby and walks towards you, “Say hi Haru.” The boy shyly smiles, turning his face to hide in his dad’s neck, you laugh at the baby’s actions.

“Hello, Haru!” You coo, voice soft but not quiet so he can’t hear you, you keep some space between you and Ken, turning your attention to the held baby. Very slowly, Haru moves his face to look at you, you smile when your eyes meet. Giggling, Haru yet again hides his face in his dad’s neck.

The silly banter goes back and forth, you and Ken move to sit on the couch while he sets Haru down to play. “Had I known you were bringing Haru, I would’ve baby-proofed the house.” There weren’t many sharp things in your home but the edges of tables were enough to do damage to babies, “I’ll buy corner guards for next time, you can never be too-”

You were very surprised at the interruption, given what Ken asked or more so demanded, “Will you marry me?” To be honest, you cannot tell if the man is joking, while committing to him is not something that intimidates you, you have only gone on two official dates.

Quickly, he apologizes for such an impulsive statement, while he is joking, Draken confesses (to himself) that he wants you in his life for a long time. To ease the obvious tension in his shoulders, you joke back, “At least buy me a ring first.”

“Will the diamond ring in my pocket suffice?” Faking a disappointed look, you reply, “Bummer, I don’t like diamonds. Do you by any chance have a ring pop?”

While the mood is light, Ken says in all seriousness, “I’ll give you anything you want.” Caught off guard at the sincerity, you can’t help the blush that rises to your face. Before you can reply, Haru starts to cry, which reminds Ken to look at the time.

The clock reads 11:15 pm, which shocks you both. It seems like he just got here, you’re saddened to have to call it a night. The look on Ken’s face shows he feels the same, but to not let the mood damper,

“I’ll give you anything you want tomorrow night, same time?”

“Woah, that’s sounding a little naughty Kenny.” He immediately groans at the nickname, his friends are going to be thrilled to call him yet another version of his name, “Never mind, date canceled indefinitely.”

The both of you continue to banter as you help him gather Haru’s things and double checking Ken has all of his belongings.

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow sweetheart, maybe wear that dress you had on?” He gets a smack on the arm (and a long kiss, well, long enough to be appropriate in front of his two year old son).

Teasingly, you walk him to the door and whisper, “I’ve got an even shorter one.” He blinks in surprise, but you don’t elaborate. Instead, you give him one last sweet kiss on the cheek, and bid Ken and Haru goodnight, telling him to text you when they’ve gotten home.

-

from ken: i’m home baby, i’ll see you tomorrow pretty girl. i hope you sleep well.

to ken: baby?? someone’s bold.

from ken: says the one who said she has an even shorter dress.

to ken: it’s tighter too :P

from ken: you’re awful, go to bed.

from ken: sweet dreams pretty girl.

© ihrthoney. reblogs & feedback are greatly appreciated𑁤

[louloulemons-posts]

Cuddles and Stew

StepDad!Eddie X Mom!Reader

Summary : The third instalment of Margot - you get sick and Margot calls Eddie

Word Count : 2.2k

Warnings : Not proofread, half was written at 4am lol, petnames, cuteness, talks of illness and pain meds, margots just adorable, girl dad eddie, mainly margot and eddie content - not much reader.

A/N : sorry for lack of updates, i’m working hard on the multi part fic and am going into a writers block lmao 🫶🏻 sorry loves, hopefully more should be coming soon.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Lay underneath his vans, Eddies hands were dirty as he tried to fix a ticking sound. He heard the faint ringing of the phone from inside the trailer and Wayne pick it up.

The squeak of the trailer door, made him slide from under the van, “Eddie it’s for you,” the man said, urgency in his voice. It made Eddies brow furrow as he wiped his hands and jogged to him.

“Hello?”he spoke.

“Eddie?” A voice he wasn’t expecting.

“Mar? That you sweet girl?”

“Yes,” she spoke softly.

“Is everything okay? How come you’re calling me?” he asked, obviously he adored that she was, but he was concerned he couldn’t hear you whispering to her in the background.

“Something wrong with Mama. Mama said this number for ‘mergecy.”

“Hey I’ll be right there okay? You got sit with mom and do not answer the door, I’ll be there soon baby I promise.”

“Okay,” the young girl said softly.

Ripping his greasy clothes off, changed into the first things he found. “Hey I need to borrow your car,” he spoke to Wayne, panicking.

“Yeah son sure, everything okay? Little Miss doesn’t normally call.” Eddie explained, shoving his foot in his trainers and grabbing Wayne’s car keys.

“Well call me and let me know how she is son,” he said, as Eddie climbed into the vehicle. Speeding away, he knew the neighbours would complain to Wayne about reckless driving.

He didn’t care, he needed to get to his girls.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Putting his key in the lock, he pushed open the door. The house seemed fairly quiet, TV chattering away faintly. “Baby?” he called out.

No answer. Your car was here so you were home. “Margot? Margot are you here?” he tried again peeking round into the living area.

“Daddy!” A whisper shout came from the top of the stairs. There was Margot, hair frizzy from sleep, her favourite pyjamas and one sock. “Hi Sweetheart, where’s mom?”

“Here!” she did a summoning motion with her hands, so he bounded up the stairs to meet her. She took his hand and led him down the hallway.

You were sat at the end of the bed, on the floor. Head between you knees, breathing deeply. “Mama,” Margot said gently, kneeling next to you, “Mama wook, Eddie.”

With eyes scrunched in pain and confusion, you lifted your head. Meeting his brown eyes, you couldn’t fathom why he was here. “E-Eddie, what are you doing here?” you asked.

You looked awful, skin pale and flushed at the same time. You looked exhausted, body breaking down in a way. “Margot called me.”

“What?”

“Numbers for ‘mergencies Mama.”

Tears welled in your eyes, you felt awful. You’d sat down because your head wouldn’t stop spinning, you thought it would be the safest place. “Oh Mar I’m so sorry,” you sniffled.

Eddie came and crouched next to you now, holding your head gently. “It’s otay Mama, Eddie make you bedder,” she spoke, resting her head on you.

A large palm was on your forehead, lovely and cool. “Babe, you’ve got a fever. Come on we’ve gotta get you into bed. Rest, fluids, sleep.”

“What? No! I can’t, I gotta get up,” pushing yourself up the ground, it wasn’t even a full second before you were coming back down.

Head buzzing and pounding.

“Sweetheart, you’ve got to let me look after you.”

“B-but, Margot and work!” you panicked.

“Baby, come on calm down,” he held your face in his palms, “I’m gonna look after Mar, and hey it’s a long weekend. So you can rest up.”

Sighing you nodded, “I need new pyjamas.”

“I ged dem!” Margot spoke, running to your draws. Her voice made your head pound, the volume of everything seemed to be amplified.

Pulling out your favourite pair, ones that matched those she currently had on, she brought them to you. “Thanks baby,” you said, gently stroking her hair.

“Okay, get changed okay, me and Nurse Margot will get you some water and other things you need,” Eddie spoke, helping you to your side of the bed.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Margot stood on her step-stool, filling your water bottle at the tap. “Da, it’s done,” she said, so he could come and do the lid. He grabbed pain killers, tissues, cold juice from the fridge. He was also heating some water for a hot water bottle.

“Good job Bubby,” he smiled, kissing the girl on the head. Soon enough the kettle whistled letting him know it was done, “You stay over there okay? This is very hot.”

After he filled the water bottle he let Margot carry the tissues and your cold water bottle up the stairs to your. You were lay under the covers, eyes closed, now clad in your new pyjamas.

“Here you go Mama,” the small girl said quietly, placing the water and tissue next to you. Eddie did the same, but lifted the blanket slightly so he could put the hot water bottle under it.

Pulling the curtains closed, he hoped that’d help your head. “You stay with Mom for a second, I’m just gonna get a compress for her head,” he said to Margot.

Wetting a washcloth so it’d cool you down, although you were freezing right now, he had no doubt you’d be sweating in a minute or two. “Here you go,” he pushed you hair back, letting the refreshing feeling take over your body.

“Sweetheart, you need to take these too,” he handed you the medication and drink, helping you sit up. Eyes still shut, unable to deal with any kind light.

Once you laid back down he spoke again, “You rest now. Me and Margot will go make us all something yummy and come back later to check on you.”

Picking the small child up from your side, you head a faint, “Bye Mama, wove you.” Which you repeated in a slurred and sleepy way. Snoozing away moments later.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

“Mama gone be otay?” The young girl asked from Eddies arms, as they went to the kitchen. “Yeah Sweetheart she’ll be okay, she’s just gotta get lots of sleep.” Margot hummed and cuddled into Eddie.

“We’re gonna make her some soup okay? Make her feel better.”

“I help!”

“Of course, we’ve gotta get some veggies from Aunt Maeves patch.”

The pair went into the garden, Maeve had said they can always help themselves. Updating everyone one what was ready to be harvested and what to leave.

In all honestly, Margot was the best person to have with him, she knew what plants were what and if they were ready - she spent lots of her days with Maeve in the garden becoming sun kissed.

“Okay so we need some potatoes, carrots, onions and I’m not sure what else.” Holding Margot on his hip as she was still only wearing the one sock, she pointed out all the different veggies they needed.

“Think we’re gonna need to make a few trips Love,” he mumbled, pressing a kiss to her hair. “Auntie Mae has a bwasket,” she told him. “A basket, let’s go get it then.”

“Me help!”

“Bubby your feet will get grubby.”

“My boots!” She wriggled from Eddies hold, and ran to get her welly-boots. She looked a picture, pyjamas, crazy hair and wellies. Pulling a large basket behind her, Margot returned to Eddie.

Pulling a hair tie from his wrist, he comb it all into one hand and sat a loose bun on her head. She didn’t have much hair cause she was still small, but there was enough to annoy her. “Twanks Da,” she said, and went to the potatoes.

“I got-ta big one!” she squealed as she shook the dirt off. “Good job Mar, we need 3 more of those okay?” Eddie crouched down beside her, putting the basket between them so she could put the veggies in.

“And Two! … And ree! … And dats Fo-wr.”

“Good job! Let’s go and get some carrots.” Running away, Margot boots stomped on the group. “Well hello you two.” Maeve stood at the door.

“Auntie Mae!” Margot smiled, waving with grubby hands. “Hello my dears, what’s going on here?” she asked, coming out into the garden. “We’re making soup,” Eddie said.

“Mama, not well. I call-ded Eddie and now we make soup!”

“Mom isn’t well?” she said, caressing the little ones hair, looking up at Eddie. “She’s got a fever. We’ve taken her everything she needs and she’s sleeping now, so we thought we cook her something nice.”

“That’s very kind of you. I can cook it if you’d like?” The older woman offered, kindly.

“Would you mind, I honestly have no idea what to put in it.”

“I’ll write you a recipe,” she smiled, crows feet by her eyes.

“Why don’t I finish getting all of this, and you can help Margot get ready for the day,” she smiled to Eddie, taking the basket from his hand. “Thank you Mae, Margot come on Sweetheart.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Soon enough Margot was clean and dressed, clad in a little blue dress with a white tshirt underneath. Both feet now covered by socks and hair under control.

“Hey Sweetheart, why don’t you go and see if you can help Mae,” Eddie spoke, and the small girl ran off. He headed into your room, you were snoozing away, you seemed to have cooled down. Placing a soft kiss to your sticky cheek.

He found Margot and Maeve in the kitchen, the little girl stood on her stood, helping chop the veggies with her plastic knife. She caught sight of Eddie and smiled, “Wook Da I choppin’!”

“You are, that’s some super good chops bubby.”

“How’s she doing?” Maeve asked.

“She’s still sleeping, she seems to have cooled down a lot.” Maeve hummed and continued to dice an onion.

“Eddie!” Margot said in a sing song voice, he hummed and stood behind her. “Can you put dem in the pot, pwease.”

“Sure babe,” he kissed her head and took the roughly chopped potatoes and carrots to the pot.

Soon enough it was simmering away, and Maeve had added some chicken. “It shouldn’t take too long,” the older woman said, taking Margot to living room you sat her on the couch.

“Eddie, is Mama otay?” the small girl asked.

“She will be, I promise. She just needs to sleep.” As soon as those words left his mouth, he heard the bedroom door open and soft padding feet down to the bathroom.

“Stay here,” he said to the small girl, jogging up the stairs. Knocking on the bathroom door he spoke gently, “Baby you okay?”

“Yeah,” you said faintly, exhaustion clear in your voice.

Opening the door up, you smiled weakly at the curly haired man. “How you feeling?”

“Tired. Thank you for looking after Mar.”

“Hey it’s no trouble, Maeves watching her right now. We’re making you stew? Soup? I’m not sure,” he laughed.

“It smells good,” you hummed.

“I’ll bring you some up when it’s done, I’m sure Mar will be joining me too. Let’s get you back to bed.” Helping you down the hall and to the bed, you sipped some water.

“Do you need another compress?” he asked. “No I’m okay, I’m feeling a little cold so.”

“Okay baby, well the water bottles still warm so it should be okay. Let’s tuck you in,” he smiled.

Placing your quilt and a thicker blanket over you, you hummed in contentment. “How’s your head?”

“It’s not hurting as much and I’m not as dizzy anymore.”

“Good good, it’s going then. How come you didn’t call me babe?”

“It started a few days ago, I didn’t think it was anything. Apparently I was wrong. I can’t believe Margot called you, what if I’d collapsed! What if she got hurt!” your eyes welled.

“Hey hey,” Eddie sat down beside you, “Baby it’s okay, she’s alright. She did so good, you taught her so well. She explained what she needed too and she stayed safe near you.”

“I just feel bad.”

“I know, but it’s not your fault. You’re sick, you can’t blame yourself baby. Okay?” you nodded at him. “Now get some sleep.”

Closing your eyes, the door clicked closed and Eddie headed back down to Maeve and Margot. “Mama otay?”

“Yeah she was just telling me she’s starting to feel a bit better.”

Maeve squeezed his shoulder, “Well the food should be done in a little while, why don’t we watch one of your movies?”

“Cina-rella?”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

The three of you sat on the bed, a tray on your lap. Big bowl of warm soup and some crusty bread. “Oh it taste delicious! You guys did such a good job.”

“Feel better Mama?”

“Yeah Mar I feel better, thank you for looking after me. You did so good calling Eddie.”

“You did,” Eddie smiled, squeezing the little one who sat in his lap.

“Just did what chu said Ma,” she smiled.

“You did the best babe, that’s why you’re my best girl. We’ve gotta be careful though or you two will definitely get sick.”

Margot coughed. “Oh no.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Thank you so much for reading! Please leave any requests 🤍

[lovelytsunoda]

INDYCAR DRIVERS AS ROMANCE BOOK TROPES

summary: I give romance tropes to my favourite funky indycar men. if y’all actually want to see me do any of these, please tell me in the comments 🫣

dedicated to my bestie @magnummagnussen who helped ghostwrite and give her ideas on a few of the tropes! (sorry for not including sting ray bestie, I have his trope to callum!)

pato o ward

reverse grumpy sunshine!!! pato is a bright ball of sunshine and in an ideal romance book he would pair with a girl who is a little grumpy (just a little bit) and cynical about falling in love and then dear sweet patricio would sweep in and show her just how magical being in love can be and show her that soulmates are real and life doesn’t have to be doom and gloom all the time

josef newgarden

single dad x nanny trope! I can see this playing out as recently widowed josef (probably not the right word) struggling to balance being the only caregiver for his son next to his racing career. cue y/n, the nanny he hires to watch after his son while he’s away and competing. he’s scared to fall in love again because he’s still grieving what he once had, but his son grows attached to y/n and how could josef not fall in love with someone his son loves so much?

kyle kirkwood

second chance romance! he lost her once, and now that she’s back in his life he won’t give her up!! the way I see this one playing out is that maybe they were together before kyle made it to the big leagues, back when nobody in america knew his name. but while she was deciding which ivy league scholarship to choose, Kyle is thinking about his career. she gives him an ultimatum, and he picks racing. so she goes to her big fancy school and forgets about him. but when a family tragedy brings her back to florida and she comes face to face with kyle, who is now a grand prix winner, hes desperate to keep her from being the one who got away.

colton herta

accidental pregnancy!! their relationship was falling apart, the distance and the pressures of colton’s career. eating them alive. words were said that couldn’t be taken back. so they called it quits, he moved to nashville and she tried to keep her head down and finish school. until she missed her period. her world seems to be ending with those two little lines, but she still cares about him. she can’t just keep coltons child a secret from him, this disaster is as much his fault as it is hers. so she goes to indiana the weekend before the 500 and she tells him. tensions are running high between them both, but they’re trying to do right by each other and the baby, and the experience reminds them that maybe they were meant to be together all along.

marcus armstrong

brothers best friend!!! y/n ilott knows that marcus is off limits. since she was fifteen she’s thought all her brothers friends were gross anyways. marcus was always by far the most annoying. fast forward a few years and they’re racing together in the same series again and suddenly marcus armstrong isn’t a gross as she remembers. and has his voice always been that sexy?? but callum can NEVER know.

david malukas

wrong number! let’s face it this man is too lazy to make contacts for half of the names in his phone. he was so sure that was sting rays number. why wouldn’t it be, the man from idaho had typed it in himself. turns out, it wasn’t sting ray at all, but some random college student who lived over a thousand miles away. he starts to text her when she gets bored, eventually progressing to face time calls, and begins to get flustered once he has a face to put with the personality. ends with him flying out to meet in her in person.

christian lundgaard

fake dating! he shouldn’t have done it. every bone in his body told him not to do it but the panicked look on her face was enough to make christian agree to pretend to be her boyfriend to scare off her cheating ex boyfriend, who was making her seriously uncomfortable. it was just supposed to be for the weekend, until the guy started leaving her alone. but a lot can happen on one race weekend and suddenly it doesn’t seem so fake anymore.

callum ilott

childhood friends to lovers! they were always just supposed to be friends, but if that’s the case, why does callum hate her new boyfriend now that the relationship is getting serious? why does y/n still feel like something is missing? cue a drunken night out leading to the hottest sex callum has ever had and lingering questions on both sides about what they really truly want out of life and love.

TAGS:

@clemswrld @httpiastri @libraryofloveletters @sidcrosbyspuck @scuderiasundays @scuderiamh @lorarri

[anniemika]

Lost and Found

Eren Jaeger x Female Reader

Chapter 11: Consequences

Chapter summary: Realizing the damage he’s caused, Eren learns about the life he has missed out on and tries to reflect on his mistakes, with a few bumps accompanying him along the way.

Chapter warnings: explicit language, aggression, mentions of blood

Words: 4.4k

Chapter 1 Chapter 3

…..

That night, Eren couldn't sleep. All he could think about was you and the encounter you two had the day before. Well, not that he spent his time thinking about much else before, but now he found someone else nestled inside his mind.. Lily. He tried to focus on a song he’d been writing for some time, go to the gym, do anything to distract himself. But no matter what he did, his mind kept coming back to the two of you.

When morning came, he realized he couldn't take it anymore. He had to see you again, talk to you, find out if what he’d been wondering about was true. He knew that it was a risk, that you might not want to see him, but he had to try. He couldn’t just go straight to your house, though. He didn’t even know if you lived there anymore.

But anyway, who would tell him anything about you? He was sure that many people were aware of what happened all those years ago, the whole ugliness of it. It wasn’t a big town, and there was no way anyone would tell him any kind of information regarding you. People loved you, and he was sure no one gave jack shit about him.

The only person that could tell him anything was his dad, although he didn’t know if you kept in touch with him after all that had happened. Nevertheless, he was going to ask.

He knew that Grisha was at work at the hospital, but he couldn’t wait a minute longer. He dialed his father’s number while nervously pacing around in his hotel room.

The moment he picked up, Eren was on it, “Hey, dad. Listen, sorry to call you at work, but I need a favor to ask.”

“Okay,” his father said, a little taken aback by the urgency in his son’s voice, “What is it?”

“I saw Y/n yesterday.”

His father went quiet, and Eren knew why. He couldn’t even imagine the shame his dad must’ve felt when it all happened.

“And I know you probably think that I shouldn’t bother her, but I really need to just talk to her. To at least have the chance to apologise properly.”

Grisha stayed silent for a little while. But then, much to Eren’s surpirse, “I think that’s a good idea.”

The younger man furrowed his brows in confusion, not expecting his father to agree so easily, “Really?”

“Yes, really. She owns a flower shop downtown. It’s on Saint John’s street, first corner on the right. It closes around 6p.m.”

Eren couldn’t believe his father was actually supporting him in this. He quickly grabbed a pen and a piece of paper to write the address on it, “Thanks, dad. I really appreciate it.”

“Be gentle with her, Eren. It’s the least you could do. That girl has gone through a lot.”

Eden nodded, even though his father couldn’t see him, “I will, I promise. Thanks again.”

In a flash, he put his phone inside his leather jacket, put his black combat boots on, tied his hair in a messy bun, and went out the door. He knew that it was probably best not to disturb you at work, but how could Eren explain to you that waiting would drive him completely nuts? How could he explain that he’d been waiting for so long, his body wouldn’t allow another minute to pass by without him taking action? His heart pounded like it wanted to jump out of his rib cage as he drove like a complete madman, acting on pure adrenaline. He knew he had to calm down before meeting you, but the emotions he felt were just too strong to hold down.

After he parked his car down the street from the given address, his eyes went to a periwinkle sign a few meters from where he was standing. “Lily’s flowers”, it read in elegant cursive writing, that drew a tiny smile across his face.

Eren couldn't believe he was actually doing this. Facing his past was something so distant before, like a dream that was never going to happen, even though he desperately wanted it too. But now, as he stood outside the shop, there was a glimmer of hope blooming inside his heart.

He took another deep breath and pushed the door open. The sweet scent of roses and lilies filled his senses as he looked around your workplace with awe. The shop was small, but cozy, with colorful bouquets arranged in vases on every surface. The walls, adorned with beautiful floral paintings, added to the ambience of the shop. They were painted in soft pastel shades, providing a soothing backdrop for the vibrant colours of the flowers. It was breathtaking.

And then, behind the counter, arranging a colourful bouquet, were you. Dressed in a simple white tee and a floral apron, you were still too beautiful to be true.

“Good morning, how can I help yo-“, when you brought your head up and saw him standing before you, your mouth fell slack.

"Hi," Eren spoke, his voice low and unsure.

He saw your face go through a few different emotions in the span of seconds, first surprise, then a mix of nervousness and vexation, "What are you doing here?"

Eren took a step closer to you, but he didn't know what to say. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Suddenly, a child’s giggle was heard and Lily appeared from behind you, holding a pretty flower in her hand. She ran in front of the counter, almost bumping into Eren’s leg.

"Mommy, look! It's the man from the grocery store!", the little girl exclaimed, pointing her tiny finger at him.

Eren looked down at her, a knot tying inside his throat. Now that he could really see her up close, it was undeniable. Her brown hair, her eyebrows, her radiant teal eyes.. the signs were all there, "Hi there. Lily was it?”

"Mhm!," she replied with a smile.

Eren knelt down next to her level,

“You’re as pretty as a lily, Lily.”

She let out the cutest little giggle, “That’s what my mom tells me.”

"Lily, honey, why don't you go outside and play for a bit?" You said, visibly trying to compose yourself.

“Okay. Bye.” She waved her hand at Eren, but before she could go, he stopped her.

“Just a second, Lily.” The little girl turned back to him, her eyes wide with curiosity, “How old are you?”

“I'm six and a half, but all my classmates tell me that I look smaller, and that really annoys me!”

Eren’s smile disappeared. Six and a half.. which meant-

“Go on and play, honey.” You pressed on, voice trembling.

Lily nodded and ran outside, leaving Eren alone with you and the silence.

When he rose from his position, his eyes turned to you, and when he saw the way you avoided his gaze, with tears brimming your eyes, he just knew.

"Why are you here, Eren?"

"I...I wanted to see you. I've been thinking about you a lot lately," he said, his voice barely a whisper.

“Oh,” he could hear the lump inside your throat from trying to fight the tears, “how nice of you.”

Eren cautiously moved closer to the counter,

“Do you think we could perhaps.. talk?”

Your hands were shaking, and you just hoped he wasn’t near enough so he could see them.

"Eren.. I really don’t know how you have the nerve to come here after everything.” You always knew that seeing him again would stir up old feelings that you had buried deep down, but this was too much.

Eren felt like he could let the whole world swallow him, "I.. I know."

You shared a look with him. Seeing those eyes again was like diving into a pool of memories, each one flooding back with a force that made your heart ache.

“Y/n, I'm so sorry-”

“No.” You’re quick to silence his attempt, “No, no, you can't do this right now. I'm working.”

“Please, just.. Just give me 2 minutes-”

“Two minutes!?” You raised your voice, hot tears threatening to spill again, “Two minutes.. Is that going to sum up years of.. of-”, the frustration you felt couldn’t be described with words. You were helpless, and at the same time, desperately trying to find the words. You hated how weak you looked right now.

Turning around, you tried to distract yourself by fixing the stems of a few red roses, “You should go.”

Eren didn’t know what to do. On one hand, the last thing he wanted was to upset you this much. On the other.. he needed to ask. If he didn’t do it right now, he’d probably go insane.

“Y/n..”, he said your name cautiously, “Lily.. Is she mine?”

You froze in place. You couldn’t bare to look at his face right now, or you’d probably faint, “What?”

“I'm sorry, I just really need to know. Please.” Eren thought he could go into cardiac arrest soon, “Is she mine?”

Silence fell like a heavy weight, suffocating, as if the air had been sucked out of the room, leaving a vacuum of soundlessness that pressed down on you both.

And then, with your back still turned against him, you spoke quietly, “I think you already know the answer to that.”

Seconds turn into hours, each passing moment feeling like an eternity. It was true. Hearing it from you just cemented it in stone. Lily was his.

Before Eren could open his mouth to say something, a doorbell ring was heard throughout the shop.

“Good morning!” An elderly woman greeted.

“G-good morning!” You swiftly wiped your eyes, before turning and sending a final look his way, “You have a nice day, sir.”

Eren stood there, staring at you helplessly. He knew he had to leave, but god help him, that was the last thing he wanted to do. All he wanted was to just whisk you away and talk, tell you how fucking sorry he was, how much of a piece of shit he was.

But he knew that wasn't possible right now. You were at work, and he knew he’d made it hard enough as it was. He had to go.

With a heavy heart, he turned to leave, emotions threatening to overwhelm him as he walked away. When he reached the door, he turned back to steal one last glance of you. You were talking to the older woman, happily showing her different kinds of flowers, like the previous conversation never happened.

The thought of you putting on a brave face and hiding your pain from the world, and him knowing he was the reason for that, made his heart sink with much earned guilt.

…..

Eren replayed your conversation in his mind throughout the whole day.

Over, and over, and over again.

“I think you already know the answer to that.”

He wanted to punch a wall. Or better yet, himself.

He could only imagine the hardships you must’ve gone through, raising a child alone at nineteen years old, while he was touring and drinking and living his life. A life that was definitely not worth living. Not knowing that you were pregnant.. not knowing just how much you needed him. Thinking that leaving you was the best option for you both.

Hatred. That was the feeling Eren felt for himself.

Maybe it was for the best. Maybe you’d realized that Lily didn’t need a person like him in her life. A fucking failure of a person.

Lily…

She was so beautiful. And she looked so much like him, it was insane. But her smile.. her smile was yours. So infectious, it lit up the entire room and filled his heart with warmth. Just like you did.

Eren wondered if you were ever going to smile at him like that again.

He buried his face in his hands as he laid on the uncomfortable hotel mattress. His eyes were hot with tears, and he bit his lip in an attempt to stop a sob from escaping.

What the hell was he going to do?

“Fuck you, Eren.” He cursed audibly. He needed someone to scream at him, and he needed that person to be you. He wanted you to let out all the anger and frustration he knew you were feeling towards him. He longed to hear you yell at him, to let him know just how much he had hurt you. The need to take it all in was enormous, to feel the weight of his mistakes and the suffering he had caused. Knowing it wouldn’t be easy, he was ready to face it all if it meant that there was a slight chance he could still make things right with you and Lily.

The beeping of his phone interrupted his thoughts, and he reluctantly pulled his attention away from his inner turmoil to check the notification. It was his dad. He was inviting him to dinner.

As much as Eren wanted to get a bottle of whiskey and just drawn himself in his sorrows, he knew he needed to tell Grisha what happened. He needed to tell him that he had a granddaughter, who was living just mere minutes away from him.

As he drove to his father’s house, his mind was spinning with all the possible outcomes of the impending conversation. Would his father be angry? Would he be happy? Would he even believe him? Or.. did he know already? No. He would’ve told him. There was no way he would keep that kind of information from him.

As he came closer to his old home, his anxiety only grew, but he knew that he had to push it through.

Finally, when he saw the white picket fence his father and him painted all those years ago, he inhaled deeply, and walked to the front door. Before he could knock, his father had already opened it.

“Eren,” Grisha said, a little surprised, “that was fast.”

Eren clenched his sweaty palms, “Dad, we need to talk.”

His father nodded, “We sure do.”

…..

“Made your mother’s favourite,” Grisha told his son while holding a ceramic dish with his oven mittens, positioning it at the center of the dining table. But that comment fell on deaf ears. Eren’s foot was bouncing nervously under the table, while his mind was preoccupied with how best to serve the news. With the intent to calm his nerves down, he tried to focus on the present moment.

“That looks delicious, dad.” He said, trying to sound casual, “Thanks.”

Grisha gave his son a small smile, but he could tell that something had happened today. It was written all over his face.

After plating the food, his father finally took a seat. He then positioned both elbows on the table, looking Eren straight in the eyes.

“So.. how’d it go?”

This was it. He had to tell him now.

Eren fixed his posture before clearing his throat, “Dad, I.. I have something to tell you.”

Grisha didn’t speak, hiding the lower part of his face in his hands.

“Y/n, she.. she has a kid. I suppose you already know that. I met her today.” His fingers were trembling, “Dad, that kid.. she’s mine. That’s-“, he cleared his throat again, already fighting back tears, “That’s my daughter.”

The older man’s face was unreadable, which made Eren’s heart pump even more rapidly. Bracing himself for his reaction, he watched as the older man lowered his hands, revealing an impassive expression.

“She has your mother’s eyes, don’t you think?”

The words sank in the younger man’s years, but his mind couldn’t grasp them.

And then, it dawned on him.

“Wait-“, his mouth became dry, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

His father turned his eyes on the meal in front of him, mixing it around with his fork.

“So.. you knew.” Eren’s disappointment was painted all over his face and voice.

After taking a bite of his food, Grisha looked up at his son, “Of course I knew.”

Eren’s confusion bubbled up like a boiling pot of water that was dangerously close from spilling. He couldn’t fathom how his father wouldn’t tell him as soon as he first saw him. As if there was anything more important than telling him he had a whole kid.

“Why.. why the hell didn’t you tell me?” His voice raised with every word.

“Do not curse at me, boy.” Grisha’s tone turned stern as he laid his fork beside his meal, his dark eyes fixed on his son, “You think we didn’t try to tell you? You think we didn’t blow your phone up? Guess what, you never picked up. And then,”, his voice grew quiet, “when she was born, I drove to one of your concerts. Nobody believed I was your father, but I somehow managed to persuade one of the bouncers to let me see you.”

Eren’s heart skipped beat after beat, failing to remember any of what his father was telling him.

“You told me to go away. I don’t think you could even comprehend what I was telling you. I don’t know what you were on.. but the guy I saw in that dressing room wasn’t my son.” The finality of Grisha’s words felt like a knife being stabbed inside his son’s heart, “Lily deserved better than that guy.”

The shame Eren felt was overwhelming. The need to let his anger out was so immense, his whole body began to shake. Without saying another word, he stormed out of the dining room, grabbed his keys, and left the house.

When he got inside his car, his fist repeatedly slammed against the stirring wheel.

“Fuck!”

After all this, he knew what he needed. A drink, and he needed it bad.

…..

The building of the old bar was aged and weathered, with a peeling paint and a faded sign that read “The Dusty Boot”. The windows were grimy and the door creaked as Eren pushed it open.

Inside, the room was dimly lit, and smelled of stale beer and cigarettes. The walls were lined with old photographs and memorabilia from the town’s glory days, while the bar itself was made of dark wood and looked scarred from years of use.

Still, it felt like home.

Eren sat down on one of the stools, the weight of today’s emotions pressing down on him hard. His head hurt, and he was tired, more tired than spending a whole day on stage. The bartender, an old man with a bushy white beard he remembered from years ago, approached him.

“What can I get ya, son?” He asked while his hands were busy wiping a pint glass with a cloth.

“Just a beer.”

The old man nodded and pulled out a cold bottle of beer from the fridge. He popped the cap off and placed it in front of Eren, “Tough day?”

Nodding once, he took a sip of the cold liquid. The man seemed to understand, so he just continued cleaning glasses, occasionally glancing over at him. The bar was quiet, with only a few patrons scattered around the room. Hushed old country music played in the background, adding to the calm atmosphere.

Eren drank beer after beer, trying to rid himself of some of the guilt he felt, even if only for a little bit. After a few rounds, he understood that it was a task impossible. His thoughts were like little needles prickling at his heart and brain, and the alcohol he consumed only seemed to magnify them.

He thought.. He though about so many things, and they all concerned you. He wondered about what had gone on right after he left you. How alone you must’ve felt, how betrayed. He thought about his dad, and how helpless he must’ve been, knowing you were suffering because of his son. He cursed himself inwardly for storming off earlier, but had he stayed, he would’ve probably said things he didn’t mean. Let anger out that wasn’t directed at anyone else but himself. Anger that only he deserved.

“Hey, aren’t you the singer from that band?” The bartender asked after some time, pulling Eren from his somber thoughts. Great. That was all he needed right now. Usually, he didn’t mind people asking him about his career, but tonight he was hoping to stay unbothered. “Yes you are. Eren Jaeger, was it?” The old man continued, “Grisha Jaeger’s son. Been a long time since I’ve seen you hang around here.”

“Been a long time since I’ve been home.” Eren replied, keeping his tone neutral.

“My daughter, she’s sixteen-“, the bartender continued, much to Eren’s dismay, “she’s a big fan of yours. She’d be so stoked if she knew you were here.”

Eren managed a small smile. “That’s nice to hear.”

“Hey, uh..”, the man reluctantly began, catching onto Eren’s reluctance to talk about his fame, “do you think maybe you could sign an autograph for her? If it’s not much trouble.”

Eren hesitated for a moment, but before he could agree, a voice was heard from somewhere behind him, “Now, are you sure your daughter needs an autograph from a man like him, chief?”

Eren became rooted in place as he recognised the voice of the man who was now standing inches beside him. A man with whom he once shared a friendship.

“Well, well”, there was amusement, but also hostility in his tone, “look what the cat dragged in.”

Eren swallowed another sip of his beer, then, without having much option, turned to inspect the man the voice belonged to.

Jean Kirstein. He was different than Eren’s last memories. Tall as ever, his ashy-brown hair was now slicked back and at his nape. He had a bit of a goatee, but still the same annoying smirk that Eren remembered all too well. It was a smirk that conveyed both confidence and arrogance, as if he knew something that Eren didn’t.

“Jean,” the green-eyed man nodded in greeting before turning back to his drink.

“Eren. Long time no see.” Jean sat on the stool next to him, ordering a drink of his own. “I heard you’d come back a few days ago.”

“Yeah?” Eren kept his tone casual, but guarded.

“It’s a small town. Didn’t believe it at first.” He could see Jean take a swig of his drink with the corner of his eye, “I thought “What would the great Eren Jaeger be caught doing in a place like this?” A place he so desperately wanted to run away from.”

Eren’s grip on his beer tightened, body tensing. Despite all the alcohol in his system, he managed to keep his cool, replying curtly, “I came back for personal reasons.”

Jean raised an eyebrow, ““Personal reasons?”” A patronising laugh filled the space between them, “That’s not like you. You always seemed to be running away from something.”

At that sentence, Eren shot him a sharp look. His nerves were already heightened enough today, “I’m not running away from anything.”

“Sure you’re not.” Jean brought his glass to his mouth before saying, “There probably isn’t a pregnant girl to run away from now.”

It happened in a second. Eren’s fists curled around Jean’s shirt, his stool on the ground.

His emerald eyes blazed with fury as he pulled Jean towards him, their faces inches apart. "Don't you fucking dare," he growled, "You have no idea what you're talking about."

“Hey, hey, now calm down boys!” The old barman shouted, bringing his hands in the air, “This ain’t no place for this.”

Jean's smirk disappeared as he registered the intensity in Eren's eyes. He tried to push him away, but his grip was too strong. "Let go of me, Jaeger.”

Eren's grip tightened even more, his knuckles turning white. "You don't get to bring her up like that," he gritted through his teeth.

“Oh, did you finally remember she existed?”

The final button had been pushed. Eren’s fist landed on Jean’s face with a loud thud, causing him to stumble backwards and fall off his stool. The other men in the bar gasped and murmured, some of them getting up to leave, others standing to get a better look at what was happening.

The barman rushed over to the two men, trying to separate them. "That's enough, boys! Take it outside if you have to, but not in here!"

Eren was heaving with anger, anger so radiant, it was like steam coming off of his body. His eyes were still fixed on Jean, who was now holding his bleeding nose. For a moment, the two men just glared at each other, until the taller one stood up from the ground, trying to regain his composure. Straightening his collar, he looked at the blood on his hand, a provoking smirk crossing his lips.

“You can still pack a punch, I’ll give you that.”

“Okay, you go now, come on.” The bartender tapped Eren on the shoulder, “we don’t condone that kind of behavior around here.”

“It’s alright, chief,” Jean put his hand in the air as a sign of protest, “It was my fault. I’ll be the one to leave.”

Eren’s fists were clenched so hard, his veins were visible. His head was spinning from the mix of the alcohol and the adrenaline the whole encounter brought. As he watched Jean pull out his wallet to pay for his drink, he tried to calm himself down by taking a deep breath and unclenching his fists.

“Oh.. one more thing.”

Sharp pain was felt throughout his whole left side, most notably in his eye. Eren hit the ground, his hand flying to his temple, which was now throbbing uncontrollably. His vision was blurry, the pain quickly traveling to his whole head.

“That was for her, you piece of shit.” Jean spat before he turned around to leave.

Eren tried to get up, but the pain was too severe, and the beers he’d drunk didn’t make it any easier.

It became all blurry after that. The last thing he heard were the bartender’s and his father’s muffled voices, and then a car engine starting.

But the last thing he saw before he closed his eyes.. was Lily.

And you.

And as much of a drunken fool as he was, that night, he still fell asleep with a smile on his face.

…..

A/N: Hi🥹 I can’t express to you how happy I am that there is interest in this story. This chapter was a little tough to write and I hope I did it justice as much as I could. I’m going to try and post a chapter every week or two, so stay tuned!

Ps: if you want to be tagged, just say so<3 reblogs are deeply appreciated.

Tag list:

@vlsquuu @love-is-sick @shima707 @6sakusa @p4lli @intimacywithcelestine @docufanfic @jaegersdiary @xcelestina @fvckingeetar @theforest @roronoazorosbxtchh @hannaburnout

[themultifandomgal]

Hello again, with another request about Blake Gallo x female reader, it can be somewhat based on the first chapter where he appears, when he scales those balconies, about the reader seeing the rescue on the news, and she decides to break up with him because he takes too many risks in his job. The thing is, she wanted to tell him that she's pregnant but decides not to say anything. After three years, they meet again, and he sees her with a child, his son, they talk about the issue. With some angst, but with a fluffy ending. Feel free to change anything as you wish.

By the way, "Happy (belated) New Year," I hope you've started this year well. Gracias. <3 <3 <3

Blake Gallo- Our Son Pt1

3 years ago I left my boyfriend Blake Gallo. Watching him leave for work everyday and not knowing if I was going to see him again stressed me out so much, to the point I was making myself ill. The final straw for me was when I watch Blake scale a balcony on the TV. I couldn’t do it anymore, especially since I found out I was pregnant. I was so scared that stress would cause a miscarriage. Call me selfish, but I tried to talk to Blake about him taking to many risks, being the first one to jump at the opportunity to risk his own life. I was scared. Now 2 years later I am a single mother to a gorgeous little boy and I’m back in Chicago knowing that Blake should have the opportunity to meet his son. With my son on my hip I walk into the firehouse

"YN? Is that you?” I turn and see Matt Casey walking towards me

“Hi Matt” I give him a little smile. Matts gaze down to my little boy

“Who’s this?”

“This is Jackson” I smile looking at my son

“And the dad?”

“That’s why I’m here. Is Blake around?”

"Come with me" I follow Matt further into the firehouse

"Gallo. You've got a visitor" that’s when Blake looks up at me from the table

“YN?”

"Hi" is all YN can say.

To have a bit of privacy Matt let’s Blake and I chat in his office

“What are you doing here?”

“This is the reason I’m here” I nod towards Jackson who’s now tucked his head into my neck

"Is he...."

"Yours? Yeah. I wanted you to have the choice to be part of his life”

“He’s what a year old. Why didn’t you find me sooner?”

“I was scared, selfish, but I was never planning on hiding him from you”

“When did you find out you were pregnant?” Blake asks leaning on Matts desk

“The day we broke up”

“You mean the day you left”

“Yeah” I breathe out feeling ashamed of myself “I was going to tell you that night. That’s why I wanted you to stop being to reckless”

“So you walked out on me?” Blake rubs is hands over his face, obviously feeling a little stressed and confused. He then looks at Jackson

"What's his name?"

"Jackson" again there's a small pause “look I know this is a lot to take in so here” I take a notes out of my back pocket with my new number on it "I'm staying in Chicago for the week. So if you want to be in his life then call me or text” I hand over my new number and leave the office.

Walking back to the others Blake flops down at the lunch table with a sigh

“So the kid?" Gabby asks

"Mine. She's giving me a choice to be part of his life. I just don't know how we're going to make this work. She left me, kept my son from me. How do I even be a dad?"

“That part will come naturally if you want it” Matt tells Blake

“Plus if think about it, it’s like the universes way of telling you to give it another go” Gabby shrugs

"If your both serious about this you'll figure something out" Sylvie says

Over the day, Blake has YN and Jackson on his mind. Thinking about what to do, what was the right thing to do? In the end he settles on messaging his ex partner.