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roosterforme · 5 months ago

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Aim for the Sky Part 11 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley is determined to take care of everything so you can take take care of Rose. A visit to your doctor answers a lot of questions, and Bradley is hoping he can still give you the babymoon that he promised.

Warnings: Angst, injury, potential pregnancy complications, fluff, smut

Length: 4200 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

Bradley had you eating three square meals a day all weekend long. He spent more time talking to your mom than you did, and she helped him cook while you took little naps. Any time food was mentioned, in any capacity, he got you involved.

"Cam and Maria want to know if I'm interested in going out for a belated birthday brunch since I'm feeling a bit better," you told him as you read your texts on Sunday morning.

"Tell them yes," Bradley replied where he was still in bed next to you with his head on your shoulder and his eyes closed. "But I'll drop you off and pick you up." His rough fingers tracing an intricate pattern along your skin from your belly up to your breasts, and you knew better than to argue with him.

"Okay," you murmured as he kissed along the side of your breast. He'd been touching you nonstop since he brought you home from the hospital. If you were awake, his body was in contact with yours, and his hands were on your belly. And when you slept, he seemed to miraculously clean the house and walk Tramp and make edible food. But while he'd been touching you constantly, he didn't initiate sex, and neither did you.

Truthfully, your hand was still aching a bit, and every time you felt Rose move, you silently rejoiced. Your body was sore, and you just kept wanting to go back to sleep. You found yourself stifling yawn after yawn, and you knew Bradley had noticed by the way he kept ushering you back to bed. Of course he would be very gentle with you, but right now, you didn't need anything more than what he was giving you.

Quickly, you finished texting Cam and Maria, then you tossed your phone aside. When you rolled Bradley onto his back, he was smiling as he whispered, "How's my Nugget?" while he played with your necklace charms.

Your visit to the emergency room after you fell at work had been terrifying, but having Bradley around always made you feel stronger. "Why don't you ask her yourself?"

With those words, you were on your back once again, and Bradley's lips were skimming along your belly. "Hey, Rosie. You having fun in there?" He grinned and glanced up at you, letting his mustache tickle your skin as he said, "Daddy would love to be inside Mommy, too."

You snorted in response, something stirring the way it always did when Bradley's big, brown eyes were focused on you. "I mean... I don't have to be at brunch until eleven."

His biceps were on display along with his messy hair, and you were never going to stop wanting him. But he was shaking his head slowly as he told you, "I'm in no rush to make that happen. Let's see what Dr. Morris says tomorrow. You're supposed to be taking it easy, and so is Rose."

"You're right," you agreed, still biting your lip as the sensation of Bradley's mouth on your body.

"I love you," he whispered against your belly before hovering over your body to kiss your lips. "And I love you, Sweetheart. And you're never allowed to scare me again."

When he eventually drove you to brunch, he refused to just drop you off and come back. Instead, he walked you inside, his big hand wrapped around yours, and took you all the way to the table where Cam and Maria were waiting.

"Hey," he greeted your friends, yanking his aviators down his nose as he wrapped his arm around you. "She's supposed to be eating plenty of healthy foods rich with nutrients and vitamins. Can the two of you be responsible for what she orders?"

"Roo," you whined, rolling your eyes, but your friends just nodded up at your husband.

"Yes," they recited in unison.

"Excellent," Bradley replied, largely ignoring your complaints as he added, "And you'll make sure she drinks at least three glasses of water?"

"Yes," they repeated.

"Perfect," he muttered, leaning in to give you a kiss while his hand slid down your belly. "Text me when you want me to come get you, Sweetheart."

As he walked away, you sighed, but both of your friends had their eyes glued to him. "Damn," Maria said as you took the seat across from her. "He means business."

Cam bit his knuckle before he picked up the menu as if he didn't already know what he was going to order. "You're so fucking lucky you have such a bossy husband," he complained. "And one with a mustache. If I didn't like you so much, I would hate you."

You watched Bradley's broad back as he exited the restaurant and headed toward the red Bronco, pushing his sunglasses into place as he went. "I would probably hate me, too," you murmured, picking up your first of three glasses of water and taking a long sip.

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Bradley ran around with his checklist on Monday morning so he didn't forget anything. You mom taught him how to make overnight oatmeal in the slow cooker, which seemed to be the only kitchen appliance that he was able to master on the first try. He fucking loved that thing; you just tossed food into it, and it turned into a meal like magic. He vaguely remembered his mom having one, which just made it even better.

Every time he thought about his parents, he had to stop and catch his breath. His desire to do this right was overwhelming. After you fell at work, he knew there was no margin for error. He filled up a cup with water and carried it back to the bedroom where he hoped you were still asleep, but you weren't even there.

"Baby Girl?" he called out, but then he heard the toilet flush and the sink run before you shuffled back in from the bathroom.

"You're making me drink too much water," you grumbled as he ushered you back to bed. "I can't stop peeing."

He set the new cup down and picked up the used one. "Just humor me, please. I'll come back to pick you up at 11:45 to take you to Dr. Morris. I'll feel a lot better after she examines the two of you, and I have a list of seventeen questions for her."

You looked at him like he was joking. He wasn't. "Mmkay, Roo. Come back and get me later," you said, kissing his lips before climbing back into bed.

When he got to base, everyone was asking about you."She's at home resting," he assured Nat. "She's sore and tired, but the baby is moving around a bunch. I'm taking them to get checked out again at lunchtime today. Oh, and thanks for getting groceries for me. And driving me to the emergency room. And making sure I didn't have a full nervous breakdown."

Nat gave him a big hug. "Literally what I'm here for, Soul Sister. Just keep me in mind when nominations come out for godparents," she told him with a wink.

"Huh," he grunted, because he hadn't even thought about that. If he had to choose someone, he would probably want it to be Nat, but he didn't know where you stood on the topic, so he didn't say another word about it. When he had to get in his Super Hornet and take off, his mind shifted back to Friday, and a flash of panic went through his body as his wheels left the runway.

"Rooster, do you copy?" He realized Maverick had asked him something, but he had no idea what. All he could picture was your tear streaked face as you lay in the hospital bed shivering.

"Say again?" he asked, hand gripping the throttle as he tried to focus. He should have used a vacation day, but he was trying to save them up for after the baby was born. He was kind of terrified that you'd have to go out on medical leave, and he knew he wasn't going to feel better about any of this until he heard from Dr. Morris.

"Meet Payback at the rendezvous point," Maverick repeated, and Bradley pushed his nervous energy to the side. How much trouble could you get into at home with Tramp anyway?

The answer was apparently a lot. When he walked in the door to pick you up for your appointment, he headed for the bedroom only to find you sitting on the floor of the baby's nursery with the dog next to you. "What are you doing?" he asked with a sigh. "You were supposed to be resting all morning."

"Relax," you told him, holding up your hands in surrender. "I got bored, so I just started sorting the baby clothes."

He cradled his forehead in his hand. "Baby Girl. You're killing me. Tell me you at least ate lunch? And drank enough water?"

"Three glasses of water," you replied, holding up three fingers and nodding. "And a peanut butter and hot sauce and jelly sandwich. And carrot sticks dipped in ketchup."

Bradley wanted to gag just thinking about it, but he supposed that was actually pretty good for you. "Excellent," he replied, reaching down to help you stand up. "We need to get going. Now."

"Oh," you whispered, kissing his cheek once you were on your feet. "You're really hot when you're being bossy."

Bradley sighed and let his head tip back as you ran your hand down the front of his flight suit. "If, and only if, Dr. Morris says having sex is okay, I could get real bossy with you later if you give me an attitude about eating your dinner."

You squeaked in delight and practically ran out of the room. "Let's get going," you called over your shoulder. "The sooner we ask, the sooner we can potentially fuck."

Bradley grabbed a water bottle from the refrigerator on his way to help you put your shoes on, and he was trying not to laugh the entire time. "Drink this," he told you before tying your shoes. Then he kissed you hard before leading you out to the red Bronco.

Once he backed out of the driveway, you reached for his hand. Bradley drove with the radio playing softly, and eventually you squeezed his fingers and admitted, "I am a little nervous though."

So was he, but he wasn't going to tell you that. "We'll figure it out. You don't have to worry about it alone."

He held your hand in the waiting room, and he had his arm wrapped around you when the nurse called you back to be examined. They took about a million samples from you before you were allowed to get cozy on the exam table with him sitting by your side, gently rubbing your left hand without touching your stitches. He was just thinking about what he was going to cook for dinner when Dr. Morris finally walked in.

"It sounds like you had a bit of a scare on Friday," she remarked, carrying your chart in her hand.

"Yes," you said sheepishly. "It was really scary."

"Well," she sighed, taking a seat with a smile, "let's take a look."

You were gripping Bradley's hand as Dr. Morris got the ultrasound equipment ready, and a few seconds later, Rose was squirming around on the huge monitor. "She got so big," he gasped. "Sweetheart, look at her!"

"I see her, Roo."

Dr. Morris looked completely calm, but Bradley asked, "Is she okay? After the fall?"

"She's just fine. Heartbeat is good. She's nice and strong."

"Excellent," he replied while you laughed in relief.

"However," Dr. Morris added, making his heart skip a beat, "we do need to talk about preeclampsia."

Your face fell when Bradley looked at you. "I have preeclampsia?" you asked softly.

Your doctor nodded. "A mild case, but yes. The baby looks fantastic, but I'm going to need you to monitor your blood pressure daily at home. And I have a list of foods you should eat as well as ones to avoid. And you need to eat and drink regularly so you don't faint again."

"Am I allowed to go back to work?" you asked.

"Yes. With the promise that you won't overdo it. And if you start to feel light headed, you need to sit down immediately and call me."

"Right," you agreed. "And is it safe to fuck my husband?"

"Sweetheart," Bradley groaned, resting his forehead against your arm in embarrassment.

"What?" you asked while Dr. Morris chuckled. "You wanted to know, too!"

Bradley shook his head as your doctor had mercy on him and said, "You can absolutely have sex with your husband as long as it's not causing you stress or raising your blood pressure too much. Monitor it. Keep an eye on it."

"Right," you agreed again, giving Bradley side eye as he pulled a sheet of paper out of his pocket.

"I have a few more questions for you, Dr. Morris. If you don't mind." He cleared his throat and started to read his seventeen questions, nodding at each answer until he got to his last one. "And how about a babymoon vacation? Is that something we can do?"

"I don't see why not," she said with a smirk. "Assuming your blood pressure doesn't get too high, and as long as you go in the next few weeks if air travel is involved. You're only ten weeks or so from your due date."

Well, that certainly put things into perspective for Bradley. He had a few ideas of where he wanted to take you, but now he was going to have to plan quickly and try to get some days off from work.

"Do you think I should change into my maternity tent and go to work for the afternoon?" you asked as he led you out of the appointment.

"Absolutely fucking not," he replied, feeling much better but still wanting you to rest a little more. "I'm going to take you back home where you will relax and eat a healthy snack, and then I'll come home and make dinner."

You looked up at him in awe. "Those are words I legitimately never thought I would hear you say unironically."

"Get used to them," he murmured, leaning down to kiss you before you climbed into the Bronco. "And you better not give me an attitude about it, or else I could end up getting really bossy." He clicked your seatbelt into place with a grin as you clapped your hands.

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"You made spaghetti?" you asked, arms crossed over your chest.

"Yes," Bradley replied easily where he stood in the kitchen hours later wearing your I Love Meat apron and holding a slotted spoon. "Is there a problem with that?"

"Yeah. I'm not eating it. I don't want spaghetti."

"Hmm," Bradley hummed, carefully setting down the spoon and turning off the stove burner. "It sounds like you're giving me an attitude."

You had to squeeze your thighs together, already so turned on as he closed the distance to you while you said, "Maybe I am." You jutted your chin out at him and added, "What are you going to do about it?"

His gaze dipped down from your face to your breasts which were practically spilling out of your stretchy tank top. He had an erection which you could clearly see through his gym shorts and the apron. "I'm going to give you an attitude adjustment," he growled, pulling you closer to him. "And then you're going to eat the fucking dinner that I made for you without complaining."

You were already panting for him, so excited over this little roleplay exercise, but you squealed in surprise when he yanked your top clear off and and immediately got handsy. His thumbs were rough on your nipples as he stroked them and pressed your breasts together. Then he let his right hand slide down your backside where he gave you one soft swat and barked, "Hands on the counter."

You did as you were told, already rolling your hips as he stood behind you and yanked your shorts and underwear down. "Bradley," you whined when you saw the apron fall to the floor at your feet, and a second later, he was pushing his cock inside your pussy as you bent a little more.

He planted his hands on the counter next to both of yours, and he ran his thumb gently along the spot near your stitches as he pushed himself deep. You felt his mustache on your ear as he whispered, "Make sure you relax. No high blood pressure for you, Sweetheart. I love you." Then he started fucking you nice and hard as he growled, "You've had a bad attitude all day. You know that? It's about time I fucked it out of you."

"Oh god!" you moaned in excitement. "Please do, Daddy."

He went hard, alternating between talking sweet and scolding you for being bad. "You're so damn hot, I can barely stand it," he crooned. "You'll eat the fucking dinner I made, and you'll say thank you," he grunted, getting you more and more worked up as you gripped at the countertop. "You gonna eat the spaghetti?" he asked, fingers dipping below your belly to find your clit. "Huh?"

"Yes!" you shouted, eyes fluttering closed as he stroked you in slow circles that got faster and tighter. "Yes!"

Bradley's lips were pressed to the sensitive spot behind your ear, and you were treated to the deep, guttural sounds he made as his hips slapped against your butt. "Come on, Baby Girl. Come on." As soon as you felt that first perfect clench of your ograsm, he was coming too. "That's it," he groaned. "That's a good girl."

You were still bumping your body back against his, coming down from your high, when he wrapped both hands around to your belly and asked, "You feel okay? The Nugget's okay?"

"So good," you gasped, finally pulling your hands away from the counter. "Perfect."

You spun in his arms with a smile on your face, and your belly bumped his abs. His cheeks were all flushed, and he looked a little tired, but he was smiling as his cum dripped down your thighs. "You hungry for the spaghetti?" he asked, stroking your cheek with his fingers.

"Starving," you replied, finally sated.

Two minutes later, you were sitting on Bradley's lap at the dining room table with one huge plate of spaghetti and two glasses of water. "I can't believe you made this. It smells incredible, Roo," you praised.

"Your mom helped a lot," he replied, but you could hear the pride in his voice. "Did you know you're supposed to add salt to the water before you cook pasta?"

You tried not to laugh as you twirled spaghetti onto your fork and took a bite. "This is delicious. And yes, I did know that."

"Is that why it always tasted so much better when you made it? I never did that before today."

God, you loved him so much, it was ridiculous. You'd been cooking for the two of you for years now, but he stepped out of his comfort zone as soon as you fell at work, knowing you couldn't keep doing all of this by yourself. Instead of answering his question, you said, "I could never love anyone else as much as I love you."

"Same," he replied easily. "It's just you and Rosie for me. That's why I spent my afternoon planning out the perfect babymoon."

"You did?" you asked, turning to look at him over your shoulder.

"Keep eating, and I'll tell you more," he promised, nudging your shoulder before taking a bite for himself.

Once you were eating again, he said, "As long as you can get a few days off at the end of the month, I want to take you somewhere that is plentiful with hot sauce."

"Del Mar?" you asked, thinking of the hot sauce restaurant and the reservation you missed on your birthday.

He gave you a bland look. "Come on, even I can do better than that."

"I don't know," you said with a laugh, and he nudged you again to take another forkful.

"Beautiful beaches. Spicy food. And a hot sauce making workshop," he whispered, and you nearly dropped your fork.

"You and Jake didn't try to make hot sauce again, did you?" When you thought about the disgusting bottle of spicy vinegar your husband brought home as a treat, you almost wanted to cry. "Please tell me no."

"Sweetheart," he said with a laugh. "I'm talking about Mexico!"

"Oh!" you gasped in excitement.

He looked so pleased with himself as he said, "It's a short plane ride away. We'll just go for a few days. It'll be like our honeymoon in Hawaii all over again, but this time you'll be pregnant in your little red bikini with your rooster tattoo on display."

You bit your lip as his hand settled on your thigh. "You really thought this through."

"I did," he replied. "You wanted a babymoon, and Dr. Morris said it's okay, so you're getting a babymoon. Now let's finish eating so I can check your blood pressure and clean the kitchen."

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The next few weeks of work were tedious. Your lab mates often treated you like you were made out of porcelain, about to fall over at the slightest inconvenience. Even Bickel got into a bit of a habit of going easy on you before you met with him to tell him you were eating and staying hydrated and could carry your normal workload.

"I'm going to get something to drink," Cat told you one day as you sat in front of your computer working some calculations in the software. "Do you want anything? Maybe a snack?"

"You don't have to be so nice to me right now," you replied. "In fact, please don't."

She scoffed. "Are you trying to insinuate that I'm usually mean to you or something?"

You looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "You're certainly never this nice. And I mean that in a good way. I think I got used to you being a bit rough around the edges most of the time, and I like it that way."

"Who took care of your wedding rings?" she asked. "And who helped you battle your morning sickness in Annapolis?"

"You did," you replied easily. "But you're never this sweet to anyone besides Jeremiah and Jake. The two loves of your life."

She was silent for a beat before she said, "I'll just get you some juice." She left the lab, and you smiled. Jake wanted to get married, but she was putting up a hell of a fight even as she was steadily paying down the debt her husband accrued while Jake paid for Jeremiah's daycare on base.

You groaned and rubbed your eyes as you yawned. Getting Rose on the waitlist for the daycare was something you kept forgetting to take care of, and it really needed to be done. You were leaving for Mexico in just a few days, but there were so many things you wanted to take care of first. Maybe you could ask Bradley to take care of this one agenda item, since he kept insisting your top priority was taking care of yourself. You could practically hear him tell you that the only person he trusted with the loves of his life was you.

By the time he met you in the parking garage at the end of the day, you were yawning nonstop. "Hey, I don't like that," he said right away, jogging the last bit to get to you. "You're really tired, Sweetheart."

"I am," you agreed. "But I ate a salad and an enormous bowl of soup for lunch, and I had two snacks today."

He kissed your forehead as he muttered, "Taking perfect care of my girls. I'll get you home and feed you dinner, and then we can start packing for our trip before you go to bed early. Oh, and I got the Nugget on the waitlist for daycare today."

"Bradley," you moaned, leaning into him. "You're the best husband. And like seriously, I don't even know how to deal with how fucking much that turns me on."

He kissed your forehead again and said, "Okay, we can definitely add sex to the agenda if we stop wasting time and head home immediately."

"I'll get undressed while you drive," you joked, playfully unbuttoning your horrible shirt while he buckled you in.

"Baby Girl, those massive tits could cause an accident," he warned before he groaned. "Holy shit, all I can think about is you wearing that little bikini with your belly and fucking gorgeous tits all over the place. Everyone is going to be looking at me next to you, knowing I got you like this." His hand rested on your bump, and he swallowed hard. "Knowing that's my baby."

"Seriously," you panted. "We need to get home now."

Bradley drove at a respectable speed and made you swear you would eat the dinner he made. Then when you got home, he checked your blood pressure and had you drink a glass of water. It was only at that point that he fucked you into the mattress, really rather lovingly, before he served you dinner.

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Next up is the babymoon of her dreams. Then Natasha is planning a baby shower that will probably be a nightmare. Then it's time for the Nugget to make her grand entrance! Thanks for reading! Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 12

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wonryllis · 11 months ago

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somewhere in northern italy | 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗄 𝗌𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗇.

synopsis. park sunghoon hates oranges, he always has. the tangy citrusy tingles he's so not fond of it. he also hates you, the living embodiment of an orange: cheery, full of life, and well, round. why should he be bothered by it though? all he has to do is work hard to get into his dream university. but the thing is, he really needs a specific recommendation letter for it. something which he can only get from your father. and hypothetically speaking, he can't just ask for it, so he does you 'a favor for a favor'; he fake dates you on your trip home for summer break and surprise surprise your family owns the biggest orange farm in the country.

or where, sunghoon falls for the one thing he has hated all his life.

word count. 1.6k (teaser) full fic: est 10k-15k? maybe more?

meet the cast. park sunghoon who has an obsession of taking photos with fem!reader who loves being photographed.

genre. fake dating AUUUU!!!! ANDDD enemies to lovers!!!(for hoon), frenemies to lovers(for you), fluff, crackkkk, nsfw, suggestive, sunghoon getting cockblocked all the damn time, set in lombardy, northern italy. popular x unpopular but it's mildly mentioned. sunghoon thinks you are a spoiled brat, a very very studious and upright sunghoon. oh and did you know? orange, orange and orange (sunghoons nightmare) rich girlie and old money reader, sunghoon is gobsmacked at reader's house, parents..(do i really need to add?) and the orange farm.

warnings. allusions as to reader being daddy's princess and being sheltered and hoon struggling every day with oranges and painting a good image of himself to get that letter. nsfw warnings will be added in the full fic. (also no it's not a chubby reader)

RELEASE DATE. TBD

written so far. 15%

author's note﹙ ⌕. ﹚ had this random ass idea while having orange juice yesterday ksjksj. taglist is open for this as well as the permanent one, just let me know and i'll add you asap! not sure if this' good enough kindly bear with me. PLS DONT LET THIS FLOP I REALLY LOVE THIS BABY ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ

꒰⠀ N O W P L A Y I N G. ⠀꒱ cruel summer by taylor swift, one kiss by calvin harris & dua lipa, karma by taylor swift, me by taylor swift, call it what you want by taylor swift, blinding lights by the weekend, fireworks by katy perry

"you wanna go down to the lake?" sunghoon looks up to find you at the door, more like peeping in from outside. his hands stopping mid-air with his spongebob boxers in hand, in the middle of unpacking what was left of his luggage. he moves at the speed of light, shoving them back in before you can notice the print. but too late you already saw it well, "you wear spongebob?" your laugh tickles his insides and it feels weird how he seems to like it.

no, he did not want to go out right now. after that stressful breakfast in the garden he just wants to fall face first into your fluffy mattress and sleep it out under your silk comforter. but something about your laugh makes him intrigued, would going down to the lake with you show him more of this side of yours? now this would probably be the seventh time he has wondered of how prettily you laugh. the curve of your eyes and the faint dimples on your cheeks his favourite things. oh? he picked favourites already it's weird, he thinks.

"yeah, let's go. just lemme change my shirt real quick," disappearing into the bathroom before you have the chance to speak. though when he steps back into the room,"your taste is funny," his spongebob boxers hang at the tip of your index finger as you look closely at the design. "put that back!" he scolds, choking on his spit while he rushing over.

"why? don't tell me you haven't washed it? now that's really bad hoonie," the tone of your voice teases his nerves but honestly he's used to it, more precisely he doesn't hate it as much as he thought he did.

"y/n," he warns, albeit not seriously and you can see it.

"baby," in a sweet little smile, (one that has sunghoon's hate for you faltering in the slightest each time you put it on) you correct him,"remember?" my fake boyfriend, mouthing out through a sly grin.

it's like an immediate que for him to give it up, he's not gonna win against you. when he used to see you around the university, mingling amidst a crowd of people every single time, he always thought you'd hold nothing against him. in his eyes you were a hollow image, nothing worth it. perhaps he was wrong, for so far you have him tight in a grip, he can't seem to find something to properly hate. that is if he takes the oranges out the picture.

he sighs in resignation,"come on, let's go, baby." happy? his brows rising in a question, softening up at your smile getting wider with a swift nod.

he relaxed too soon.

"was this really necessary?" the palm of his hand slides around your wrist as you walk down the steps of your italian chateau. supporting your heel clad feet and gesturing at the big beige floppy beach hat sitting atop your head. "absolutely! it's my fa- dad!" sunghoon's head snaps at that, immediately turning to look at the pitch of your voice going higher. the real deal, your father still seated in the garden with a newspaper in his hands and dear lord, a glass of orange juice.

it's embarrassing to be seen with you like that, he was gonna say. but oh well, nevermind.

"i see you have your favorite hat on, going somewhere with sunghoon?" your dad asks smiling warmly at your pair. it makes sunghoon scared, aren't dads supposed to hate boyfriends? is he being bamboozled by your family? will he be preyed upon later when you are not there to see? as if it was possible, your entire family though really welcoming of him are a bunch of weirdos, who the fuck let's their precious daughter share her room with her boyfriend they've met for the first time?

when he agreed to fake date you he didn't know he'd have to put on such a detailed act. there's literally no restrictions for you in the house. you do whatever you want, when ever you want. and that includes taking him everywhere you go, because apparently your parents know him as the boyfriend who loves you so much that he can't let you be alone at any time. shouldn't that be a red flag though? he can't with this anymore, just over a day in and he's convinced he can't make it make sense anymore, it's a white towel, he can only go with the flow.

"yes he really wanted to go down to the lake," what me? when? sunghoon's eyes wander in a panic while you smile as if you weren't just lying through your teeth. smile sunghoon smile, just fucking smile, he reminds himself wondering if he should maybe say something, maybe not?,"didn't you, baby?" the little nudge of your elbow against him tells him that he should, oh god its difficult to learn when to do what.

"yeah the weather seems really good," he says, a slight tremor in his voice, internally facepalming himself. he has one job, and he's failing even that.

"hm, true," the acknowledgement from your father helps calm his nerves a bit but it runs on high again at his next words,"be back before lunch though, your brother and sister in law will be home soon. it's been so long since we last ate together," you have a brother? why wasn't he informed about this? is the universe playing a game with him? as if your parents weren't enough, now he has to impress more people. he can do this, for the sake of his recommendation letter he has to do it.

"yes dad! love you," sunghoon waits like a lone statue as you leave his side to press a kiss to your father's cheek. grabbing him by the arm and dragging him away the moment he opens his mouth to bid your father. at this rate you'll ruin it for him before he can ruin it himself. "slowdown, fluffy. i'll fall at this speed," he tries but it's to no avail, he should have known by now, no one can control you.

the walk down to the lake is quieter than he expected, no bickering or fighting. you show him around the small streets and shops on the way, telling him little stories back from your childhood. sometimes stopping at a spot,"so pretty, can you take a picture of me here?" and it's already the fourth time. he doesn't mind though, on the contrary he finds himself enjoying it. it's not everyday he gets to roam around the streets of italy with the perfect weather.

it doesn't take long for you both to reach the deck on the far left. following your lead, he sits down on the edge beside you, legs hanging low over the cold water and your shoes placed on one side. you sit close, arms brushing each other, little finger atop one another. your hair flowing with the wind swipes against his face when you turn the other way, a subtle hint of sweet (you guessed it) orange tingling his smell buds. instead of grimacing his life off, he leans closer for another whiff of it. "sunghoon!" retracting immediately when you turn back to him.

"hm?" a feeling so out of this world, a haze lost in his mind. your words sound blurry and your extravagant hat looks so pretty on you. he almost feels like he has to capture this. "i asked how you like it? weren't you listening? what're you thinking?" and he does, taking out his phone and clicking a candid. he can't believe he now has a photo of you in his gallery that he's taken on his own accord. he's been doing many weird things lately,"it's really pretty," so so many weird things.

"hey fluffy i've been wondering about something," he speaks again, looking away to try to ignore tiny little fluttering butterflies in his stomach.

"what is it?"

"haven't you ever dated before, why do your parents seem so excited to see you have a boyfriend?" there he asked it, the biggest mystery he can't stop thinking about from the moment he set foot in your palace of a house. if it's your first then maybe that would somewhat explain their behaviour, not that it would become normal altogether, just kind of justifiable that he won't be put on the rack. that he's truly welcomed and he's safe.

"not really, no one ever met my standards," your answer throws him off. what?

"does that mean i do?" he tests the water, cautious above all yet his tone still comes off as one of tease.

"yes, except one," he eyes turn to you at that, pupils dilated with curiosity for the one thing stopping him from the title of 'perfect for you' as your parents claimed. meeting his eyes in a lock of contact, you give him a small smile. hands moving over to his white button up, fingers tracing his collar and undone buttons watching his adam's apple bob in a hard gulp as his brown orbs follow your movements, sweat building up at the close proximity when you both lock eyes again,"you don't really like me," sunghoon immediately looks away, a stab of reality, he was actually anticipating something he could change. really park sunghoon? remember you don't like her?

"am i wrong?" you laugh leaning forward to have a look at his face.

"i never said that," sunghoon clears his throat, turning back, suddenly gaining a surge of confidence. park sunghoon what???

TAGLIST ( open. ) @s00buwu @luvyev @deobitifull @nottkwiwin @enhyven @crysieberry @eneiyri @sovlidago @fertiliezedtoesw @laylasmother @pockyyasii @ladyartemesia @kaispulshies @nctislifue @capri-cuntz @sweetjaemss @parksunghoonsgf @ariadores @asteria-wood @laurradoesloveu @en-dream @304files

#SO EXCITED BUT NERVOUS TO SHARE THIS KSJSKH #enhypen imagines #enhypen smut #enhypen oneshots #enhypen fluff #enhypen sunghoon imagines #sunghoon smut #enhypen headcanons #enhypen reactions #enhypen drabbles #enhypen hyung line #enhypen heeseung imagines #enhypen jake imagines #enhypen jay imagines

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neoballsucker · 9 months ago

Text

𝑂𝑛𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑔𝑖𝑟𝑙𝑠

Genre : the neighbors nextdoor

Pair : dilf! jaehyun x fem!reader

Waring : smut , unprotected sex , jaehyun is a father , mentions and usage of alcohol, anal sex , jaehyun is older than he actually is (in his 30s) , legal age gap, non-con (?)

Summary : jaehyun is your neighbor rich handsome and a gentleman but he has a daughter from his ex-girlfriend who cheated on him

W.C : 1.5K

A/N : something quick for jae's birthday (ik I'm late 👎👎)

You've been looking for a job beside college since you moved out to a farther place for your college , you look online and in stores and cafés , you got to know your neighbors, they were all nice and lovely, you also introduced yourself to your next door neighbor jaehyun, he was handsome, respectful , you also heard he used to be married or he always bring girls to his house but he looked the opposite, he looked like a quiet person and calm , his voice was kind of Deep and smooth as well , he told you he owns a company, so you asked if he had any job for undergraduate students, but unfortunately he doesn't, but that's not really important,you then discovered he has a daughter from his ex girlfriend and they left eachother because she was cheating on him ,but they keep in touch just for the poor little girl, it wasn't your business or anything , few days passed and you finally found a job in a café near your house,it didn't pay too much but it was good for a part time job, It was until Jaehyun texted you one day

“Hey y/n”

“Oh hey jaehyun !!”

“Are you still available for work”

“It's just my ex girlfriend traveled due to work and left Yoon with me and I need someone to take care of her”

“Ahh yeah sure , when will your ex-girlfriend come back?”

“After two weeks”

“Don't worry I'll pay you”

“it’s okay you don't have to”

“We can meet at my house and discuss everything. Is that okay with you y/n?”

“Yeah, sure then see you later”

That's how the conversation ended between you two , the day passed , and the next day he invites you to his house, you wear something simple and proper at the same time and put on some makeup and do your hair,you go to his house and knock the door gently,he opens the door his figure was slightly bigger and taller than you

“Oh hi y/n come in” he smiles softly making his dimples appear ,his hair was brown and fluffy he just looked perfect, you smile back at him and gets in the house,it was tidy and clean also so good, there were also some toys you assumed it belongs to his daughter

“Take a seat please” he said after leading you to the living room, you sit on one of the many chairs In Front of you

“So basically you will be here everyday except the weekends , also my schedule is flexible so I don't have specific time to come back home , so don't mind if I came too late”

“No it's okay I'll make sure to take care of her”

“Thank you so much y/n , I really appreciate your help, how much money would you like to get?”

“It'll be for free for a special customer” you chuckle and wink , he smiles and nods

“Fine fine but I'll for sure take you out for dinner once I'm free”

“You don't have to seriously, you have job and her mom is not available, it's okay”

“You sure y/n? You know kids can be tiring sometimes”

“It's okay jaehyun, it's not that much to worry about” of course he was a busy man with responsibilities and well…a child, how can a man like him be in his mid 30s it was shocking how can such a sweet man like be that old some of your friends told you to go after him since he's rich but isn't he too old for you? You usually don't like taking care of children but Yoon was surprisingly a really calm and quiet child just like her dad, jaehyun told she is quiet but can be playful sometimes, she only plays with her toys eat and sleep or watch the TV and sleep , the days passed really quickly surprisingly , jaehyun sometimes comes home early or too late , he can be drunk sometimes,you help him go to bed and make sure yoon is sleeping and then leave the house , this is how it went until yoon’s mom came and took her , jaehyun thanked you and insisted on paying you 1000 dollars, you found it too much but he said it was his first and only daughter it's never too much , you noticed that jaehyun likes to spoil his daughter, her branded clothes and her decorated room and how he gets her everything and anything she wants, food , candy and toys , yoon also adores her dad so much , you notice how happy she gets when she sees her dad , their relationship was so warm and good , you kept working at the café and drowning in college and project and essays you didn't have time for yourself , valentine was soon coming , but who are you celebrating it with? No one you were planning on staying home and just sleep or something,but you remembered that Yoon told you that her dad's birthday was on valentine's day, so you decided to give him a small gift, you didn't know jaehyun really well, so you decided to get him a perfume and maybe cake as well, you went to a bakery near college after you finished classes and got a small cake and went to a near gift shop and got him a gift card and a perfume, you then go home and prepare everything for him, you then go to his house and knock on the door , nobody opens so you decide to leave it In Front of the door , his house wasn't that big you can hear footsteps and some noises, you can't tell where is it from , you can hear some moans , when you realized you can feel yourself getting embarrassed by it and immediately go to your house , days passed since the coincidence , you and jaehyun didn't really talk since you were busy studying and working, jaehyun on the other hand didn't even have time to hang out with his daughter, the work increase more and it became hard to even have a break at home, he was at his office for nearly 24 hours, finally summer vacation comes after hard work and exhaustion,it was all worth it after all , you were finally able to have some fun and discover the city that you're in even more now, you had some fun , you were also able to visit your parents for few weeks, and then returned to your house, you rest in your house and one day you decide to go on a walk around the neighborhood, it was kinda refreshing to go around the place , you suddenly run by jaehyun

“Oh hi y/n”

“Oh hi jaehyun, how have you been doing” you smiled and then remembered what happened a while ago , you panicked slightly but you tried to not make it obvious

“Oh I'm okay, also thank you for the gift on my birthday, I really appreciate it” he smiles softly and gosh these dimples of his , made you melt

“Oh it's nothing much” you smile , shaking your head

“I should treat you , are you free right now? Maybe I'll take you out for dinner.” He obviously just came from his job , he also looked really exhausted and tired

“Maybe next time? You kinda look tired today.” You say with a slightly worried tone

“No no ,I insist!!” he says with slight sarcasm

you sigh and accept his invitation, you were hesitant at the beginning but you tried to keep calm , you go to your house and get ready, wearing a simple dress and high heels, since he told you it will be in a fancy kind of restaurant, , he took you in his car, it looked expensive and clean ,he also looked wonderful and handsome , you finally to the restaurant and order the fokd , you would be lying if you said that the food is not good , it was amazing, everything was amazing, jaehyun was jaw dropping and such a gentleman , he took you to his house suggesting to drink together, you get drunk and things took a turn and all you know is him thrusting his hips while kissing your neck and you moaning and screaming for more , you can't even remember how did you end up like that but you don't want it to end anyways , the sounds of the fraction between your bodies, your moans and his heavy breaths , your vision is blurry , tears about to fall out your eyes , you can hear him groan in a low unaudioble voice. You were at the edge of collapsing due to overstimulation , you felt your release is soon.

“I-i'm gonna-”you couldn't even finish the sentence and felt your release, close your eyes and bite your lips

“You look so beautiful all fucked under gosh” he smirks and keep thrusting inside you until you felt his warm seeds inside you, he falls next to you , looking at you with his brown semi closed eyes and kisses your lips , and you two end up sleeping next to eachother

#jaehyun #jaehyun smut #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun fic #jaehyun imagines #jeong jaehyun #nct fic #nct imagines #nct smut #nct 127 #nct u #jaehyun nct #🦒

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cutecatlov3r · 2 years ago

Text

𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐮𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

izuku midoriya x reader ! (fem)

synopsis: when an innocent religious boy comes into your hands the only thing you can do is ruin his pure mind.

word count: 3.5k

warnings/tw: all characters are 18+, no quirks, college AU, corruption, mentions religion, a little bit of disrespect about religion, praise, oral (m!), hickeys, masturbation(?), facial, finger sucking, hair pulling, piv, unprotected sex, and... I'll let you figure it out.

a/n: gah this is a virgin izuku book >///<... stay tuned for the end... trust me, you want to read it. oh and please like, comment. and re-blog ily ! don't copy my work. not proofread. who wants a part 2 ?…

song: HEAVEN AND BACK [Chase Atlantic]

You yawned, moving through the crowded party. Sighing, you tried looking for your roommate, Mina Ashido. You must admit, you already have had a couple of drinks so you were pretty buzzed, walking around all the flashing lights didn't make your mind feel any more at ease.

"Y/n?~" a voice asked you. It was a feminine voice, a voice you knew way too well.

You turned around to see your roommate. She looked drunk off her ass. Her hair was frizzing up, her shirt covered in alcohol, and her eyes barely open. You shook your head, snapping a picture of her to show her in the morning.

You giggled, watching her stumble into your arms.

"Mina, are you ready to go home?" you asked, only a bit concerned for her well-being. She can get a little crazy at parties

"Y/n~ Noooooo, I don't wanna go home yet~ *hic* Plus you still haven't even met my *hic* friends~" she slurred, furrowing her eyebrows.

The whole reason you were at the party is to meet Mina's 'Out of town' friends. Oh, trust me, you've met her main group, sleeping with all of them whenever you feel like it. You couldn't help yourself! You regularly call Bakugou over to fuck you whenever you want him to, but that's a whole different story.

"Mina? Oh! Mina! There you are," a familiar face said, sighing in relief. The familiar face was none other than Shoto Todoroki, you've met him a few times, he didn't go to your university. Not to say that you two fucked or anything but you guys definitely did some hand stuff not too long ago.

Shoto is from a Christian school, he doesn't believe in the ways of God but he is forced to go. Every weekend he comes to your university's parties to disobey his father and obey his own beliefs. He is an atheist, not caring for religions, you can say the same thing.

"Aw, Shoto! I didn't know you were here," you teased, giving the boy a tight hug. You adored his sensitive reactions to your slightest touch. He hugged you back.

"I didn't see you here, glad to know you're here though," he smiled, holding on to your waist. Was he being more bold today? You rolled your eyes, taking his hands away from your waist, the only thing on your mind was making sure Mina got home safely. You shouldn't get distracted by Shoto's charms.

"Where's *hic* Zu... Zuku... And Chako?" Mina cried, shaking Shoto's shoulders. Shoto looked at your calm face, pausing his train of thought before turning back to Mina.

"He's upstairs, he needed some air. You know how he gets around crowded places. And Ochako is with Jirou and Hagakure," Shoto replied, shrugging.

Mina shook her head, too dazed to say anything to Shoto.

"Zuku?" you questioned. You were unfamiliar with the name. You knew Ochako, only due to her relations with your girl friends.

"Izuku," Shoto corrected. "He's a friend of ours from my school, could you go and grab him? I think he's ready to go home, he doesn't do so well around big crowds. I'll try and get Mina out of the house too, she looks really... Not well..." he muttered.

Mina whined, protesting against him. Of course she wanted to stay but she needed to leave, she was well over being blacked out.

"Don't make us call Sero, you know he will whoop your ass," you commented, sternly.

Mina shut her mouth, quickly. "Yes ma'am," She was ready to comply with whatever you guys said.

"He's in the last room down the hallway," Shoto explained, picking up Mina. He tossed her over his shoulder, trying to get through the crowd.

You nodded. All you have to do is grab Shoto's friend, you trust Shoto enough to leave him with Mina. You know he'd never do anything to make a woman uncomfortable, ever.

You made your way upstairs. The bass of the music made the entire house shake. You were surprised the party hadn't gotten a noise complaint yet. Moans and groans filled the hallway you walked through, horny adults probably filled every single room available for access. You made a mental note to call Bakugou over tonight for some fun.

Eventually you reached the last door of the hallway. Slowly, you opened the wooden door. The room seemed empty from the looks of it, you decided to look around. A huge bed was in the middle of the room, furniture organized around. The room did have a nice color pallet, white and gold. The two colors that embody purity, you loved them.

"Izuku?" you called out, exploring the dim lighted room.

The door to the balcony opened, stepping into the room with you was a fluffy green haired boy. The darkness of the room was hard to really see any features of him. The moonlight from outside did let you see the little freckles displayed on his face though.

"U-um... Who... Are you?" the male asked, shutting the door behind him quickly.

"Are you Izuku?" you asked, wondering if you might have gotten the wrong room.

The boy nodded his head.

"Oh, Shoto wanted me to come and grab you," you conversed. You walked over to a bedside table, turning on the lamp that was on it. You didn't really enjoy being in the dark. Once you turned around you finally saw the man you were speaking too. His eyes averted from your figure, you were in a proactive outfit that showed all of your natural curves. He wore a regular shirt and jeans but what had your full attention was the silver cross that dangled from him neck. One word... Innocence.

A sinister smirk appeared on your lips. "Or we can stay here and get to know each other," you suggested, shrugging. You sat on the bed, waiting for Izuku to join you. Izuku was flustered by your boldness. He took a deep breath, thinking back on what Shoto had told him about meeting new people. He never really came out to parties, usually the only places he went that had lots of people is church.

He made his way to your lustful energy. Izuku sat on the bed with you. "I'm Y/n," you greeted.

"I'm Izuku Midoriya," he said, giving an unsure smile.

His emerald colored eyes were a sight to see, they were beautiful. You shook your head, snapping back into reality. Izuku just stared at your own hypnotizing gaze.

"I heard you go to Shoto's school. You believe in God?" you asked, curiously.

"W-what?! Of course I do! God is my ruler. He is my only God," Izuku rambled. You thought his little ramble about God was adorable. He seemed very passionate about his religious beliefs.

All you could do was shrug. "I can't relate but I respect your beliefs,"

"Why can't you relate? Do you not believe in our lord and savior?"

You shook your head 'no', earning an audible gasp from Izuku.

"What? W-why not?"

You began to feel annoyed by the way he was talking. "Izuku, don't you ever have temptations?" you questioned, trying to explain how you feel.

Izuku began to look off to the side. "We aren't supposed to..."

"Well! We are human! We can't help how we feel," you interrupted, laughing.

Izuku cocked his eyebrow. "I never follow my temptations. They must be kept away, giving into them is a sin,"

You rolled your eyes at the word 'sin'. It rolled off his tongue so smoothly, you were buzzed from the party earlier so maybe that's why you decided to say...

"Have you ever sinned?"

Izuku looked at you, his mouth hung agape. You bet he never expected you to ask him such a personal question.

"O-of course not!" he said, furrowing his eyebrows. He seemed offended by the question.

You hummed to yourself, leaning close to the poor boy's face. Suddenly, you found yourself straddling his empty lap. He didn't dare touch or look at you, he was easily embarrassed. His face was a beet red hue. His hands nor face paid attention to the temptation of your body.

"You've never..." you thought. Smirking, you leaned into his ear, "Touched yourself?" you finished. Your breath was close against his neck, making him shiver underneath you.

Izuku's heart beat felt rapid. He had no words, seemingly. Taking a deep breath, he shook his head. He did not partake in such sinful acts.

You almost laughed in his face thinking he was joking. But on further inspection, he seemed dead serious. This made you excited. You loved sleeping with virgins. They always had the whiniest moans and the warmest cum. You loved taking advantage of them, making sure to make them feel pathetic.

Your hand crept up to his face, grabbing his cheek. "Do you want me to show you how to touch yourself, Izuku?" you asked, as innocently as you could.

And with that, you felt something hard underneath you, this boy had gotten a boner, a boner that you wanted to get rid of.

"I...I shouldn't," Izuku mumbled, feeling as if he were spinning.

Your lips found their way on his neck, sucking on his soft skin softly. He let out a whimper, his whimper made you want to go insane. But! You know you should take it slow, it is his first time after all.

"Do you want me to touch you?" you asked, feeling your core already to start to burn.

"N..N..."

"It's a sin to lie, isn't it?" you teased, not really knowing if it was a sin or not.

"Touch me,"

With that being said, you smashed your lips against his. Izuku let you kiss him. But what got him more interested was when you slipped your tongue into his mouth. He seemed like a natural to you. Your tongues were in sync, making you want him even more.

After releasing your kiss to breathe in some air, you looked into his eyes. Lust. He was being lustful in this moment with you. It made you eager to ruin him.

"What do you want me to do to you?" you asked, pushing his back on to the bed. He laid under you as you sucked on his skin, making sure to leave purple marks. They way he crumbled under your touch felt so sexy to you.

"D...Do w-whatever you want to me," he moaned, finally having the courage to put his hands on your waist. They ran up and down your hips. grinding your body slightly on his hard clothed cock.

You smiled, removing your clothes, only having a bra and panties on, this would be his first time seeing a woman naked. You felt excited knowing that. You helped Izuku get him own clothes off, leaving him in his boxers. The tent built up in them almost had you drooling at the sight.

He couldn't look you in the eyes, he stared at the ground, holding his cheeks to relieve them as they were burning. You were stood up, Izuku's legs draped over the bedside, he was anticipating for more.

Getting on your knees, you made sure Izuku kept his eyes directly on you.

"I'm going to show you how to please yourself, kay?" you said, pecking his lips.

"H-ow do I do that...?" he asked, almost stuttering.

Instead of explaining, you grabbed his hand. You wanted to tease him before touching him. You let your warm tongue touch the pads of his finger tips. You noticed his dick twitch due to your action. You began to suck softly and slowly, Izuku was in a trance, wishing it were his cock instead.

"Let me see it now, Zuku,"

Izuku felt his blush come back to him, he must've felt too embarrassed to pull out his cock, he kept stuttering and rambling on and on. You rolled your eyes, playfully, finding your own hands to be the one to reveal his dick. His dick was long and thick, you've never seen such a perfect one.

He whined as your soft hands started pumping his dick slowly.

"This is how to please yourself, give me your hand," you ordered.

Without any thought Izuku gave you his hand. You wrapped his own hand around his dick, making him pump it himself.

"Does that feel good baby?" you asked, ready to make him feel even more relieved.

"Y-yes," he moaned.

You grazed your thumb over the tip making him feel jolts of pleasure.

After watching him pump his cock in front of you a few times, you were ready to wrap your lips around his length. You wanted him to cry out your name- No- You needed him to cry out your name.

You took off Izuku's hand from his own length, giving him your full attention.

"Keep your eyes on me Izuku," you said, in a serious tone.

He nodded his head, fast.

You stuck out your tongue to lick the tip of his dick. He tossed his head back, making you feel more heated. In an instant, you took his whole tip in your mouth, sucking on it soft and slow. He groaned, trying to stop the urge to grab your hair. You noticed his hand hovering over your head, was he trying to be respectful? You rolled your eyes, grabbing his hand and placing it in your own hair.

"You can pull my hair baby, don't be shy,"

Izuku blushed at your words but found his fingers gripping right where your scalp is. You loved it, he's learning so easily.

Your wet tongue ran up and down his shaft, earning moans and groans from Izuku. He started to gain more confidence, moving your head down further. He wanted you to take him fully but he was too shy to say.

After a few minutes of pants, moaning, and suckling noises, you felt Izuku get more tense and sloppy as he moved your head. He was close to cumming.

"This... Feels so good," he moaned, his hips rutting upwards on instinct.

"You're such a good boy, does the good boy wanna cum?" you asked, rubbing his dick in your hands. Both of your hands rubbed him in all the right ways.

"C-cum?" Izuku questioned.

Oh of course! He is a virgin, he doesn't know about these things. The cross around his neck was connected to his chest due to the sweat. You laughed in your head, knowing you're stealing one of God's little angels.

"You'll understand when it happens, for now, just lay back and let me make you feel good, hm?"

Izuku understood, laying back down, propping himself on his elbows to look at your face.

You continued to suck on him, anticipating to feel his warm cum on your face.

"W-wait!" Izuku shouted, a look on his face signified he was unfamiliar by the feeling.

You knew what this meant, you kept using your hands and tongue faster.

"A-ah no! Something... Ah~ No I think I'm going to-"

You took out his cock from your mouth, rubbing it up and down while he shot his hot cum on your face. He felt ecstasy.

"S-so good!" he praised, panting.

You licked up all of the cum you could off of his dick, making sure he watched. His face was red.

"That was too good," Izuku said, sitting upwards. He got up to grab his shirt off of the floor. You sighed, understanding he was ready to leave.

"What? Leaving too so-"

He wiped the cum off of your body, feeling embarrassed that you have his sperm all over your cute face. Your cheeks burned up, no one has taken care of you after doing something like that.

"S-sorry about that," he apologized, rubbing the back of his neck.

You gave him a smile, feeling an unfamiliar sensation deep down in your heart. "It's no problem," you said, taking a seat on the bed.

Izuku sat next to you.

"T-thanks for that... I've never done anything like that before," he sighed.

"You think we're done?" you giggled. Of course you weren't!

"Are we not?" Izuku asked, confused.

You shook your head, straddling Izuku's lap. This time instead of being so shy, he seemed less anxious, comfortable, and familiar. His hands gripped your waist, guiding your hips to grind against his dick, causing him to get hard once again.

"Let me ruin you Izuku," you whispered, kissing him passionately. He kissed you back, wanting everything from you. He needed you.

"Please y/n... Ruin me,"

All you could do was smile at his words, he was ready for you and only you.

You got off Izuku, slowly removing your panties. After removing them you sat back down on Izuku's lap.

"What are we doing next?" he asked, fiddling with his hands.

You honestly didn't need foreplay, you were ready for him. You were ready to ruin him, to make him connected to you by soul ties.

"Izuku, lay down," you demanded.

Izuku did exactly what you said, laying down right in the center of the bed, his body propped into the soft, silky pillows.

You crawled over to him like a hunter stalking its prey. You had no hesitation to pounce on him. You hovered yourself over his dick, wanting to see his facial expressions as you put it in. Though you weren't a fan of riding, you always were when it came to virgins.

Your eyes landed upon the cross around Izuku's neck. God can't help his poor soul now.

Slowly, you began to sink down on Izuku's cock.

"Warm... So good," he whispered.

Your gummy walls held onto his dick tightly. The lewd noises you were making were beyond comprehension.

"I can't... Too much," Izuku whined, closing his eyes, holding on to your hips.

"You can take it baby, so big and ready to fill me up," you said, finally pushing yourself on his dick fully.

He let out a moan.

You allowed him to get familiar with the sensation of your walls, not wanting him to cum so quickly.

You began to move yourself up and down, Izuku's hands attached to your hips as you rode him.

His dick filled you up, hitting all the right spots. You moaned, sinking down on his cock.

Moans and whimpers could be heard throughout the room. This feeling is one that you could never give up.

Over time you began to pick up the pace, Izuku was huffing and taking deep breaths as you sped up. He was so sensitive after you made him cum earlier, he wanted to try and make you feel good too, which is why it's taking everything in him not to cum right then and there.

"F-fuck Izuku~" you moaned, feeling the knot in your stomach ready to be released.

You felt yourself moving faster, wanting to chase your own orgasm.

"G-god! So good! I can't hold it in," Izuku whimpered.

You smirked at his words. "God can't help you Izuku," you said, slyly.

For some odd reason that turned Izuku on even more, rutting his hips upwards. He hugged your waist, slamming you down on his cock. You were surprised by his actions but didn't care, he was eager, it's his first time, of course he was.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, feeling your orgasm near closer and closer. You couldn't help your eyes rolling back, it all was too much!

His dick hit your favorite spot, earning loud moans.

"Right there Izuku~" you panted, almost sounding like you were whining.

Izuku understood, moving your hips faster. Fucking into you as much as he could, hitting your spot over and over, continuously.

"Gon-Gonna cum!" you cried, ready to become undone.

Izuku just couldn't contain himself, his dick went in as much as it could, his hot seed pumping inside of you. The warmth of his cum made you reach your climax.

You both panted for air. You got off of the boy, laying beside him. That fucking session was a pretty damn good one.

"Thank you Y/n. I've never felt so alive," Izuku said, turning to face you. He had a smile plastered on him. His smile made your heart flutter.

Your stamina was all used up, you could barely look him in his eyes. You were happy to be of assistance for him.

"You were such a good boy," you said, leaning into kiss him.

He grabbed your cheeks, kissing you until you fell asleep. He wanted to take such good care of you after you helped him out. He placed a cover on top of you, admiring your cute face.

"Asleep already?" Izuku asked.

You didn't hear a word he said, already fast to sleep. You were insanely worn out.

He giggled slightly, kissing the top of your forehead.

...

"Fucking idiot," he muttered, rolling his eyes and getting off of the bed in search for his boxers. "When Shoto said it'd be this easy... I didn't think he meant this easy," he commented, ripping off the cross necklace from his neck. He threw it somewhere in the room, not caring for things like 'God'.

Once he found his boxers, he walked over the the dresser, taking out his phone, hidden behind some perfumes, which was recording the whole scene between the two of you.

"Too damn easy," he smirked, checking the video quickly to see if it captured everything, and trust me, it did.

3 Missed calls from Ochako <3

Izuku scoffed at his notifications, dialing the missing call back. He didn't want to deal with her bullshit right now, he wanted to smoke a quick cigarette before having to be by her side all night. The phone number answered quickly.

"Where are you babe? You've been missing for awhile now," the girl said, sounding worried.

"I just needed some air, I'll meet up with you in a bit,"

"Okay honey, bye, I love you,"

"I love you too,"

#izuku smut #izuku midoria x reader #mha izuku #izuku midoriya smut #midoriya izuku #izuku x reader #mha smut #mha #bnha smut #bnha thirst #izuku midoryia x you #izuku midoryia smut #midoriya smut #izuku mha #plot twist

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sunny44 · 1 year ago

Text

Lemonade for Carlos

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x wife!reader x mom!reader

Warnings: mentions of difficulties of getting pregnant

Summary: Your’s and Carlos daughter wants to sell lemonade to buy him a birthday present, so you help her set up a lemonade stand.

I was just finishing the pancakes for breakfast when I heard Eva's rapid footsteps coming down the stairs.

"Mommy." She says, entering the kitchen. "Can I buy a present for Dad? For his birthday."

"Sure, have you thought about what you want to buy? We can go today if you want."

"But I don't have any money."

"I'll buy it for you, my love don’t worry."

"No, I want to buy it with my own money."

"And how are you going to get this money?" I asked, putting her in her chair and leaving the plate of pancakes on the table.

"I'm going to work." She says innocently.

"What are you going to work at?" I asked, pouring her a juice.

"Selling lemonade, a friend of mine from school said she got money to buy a doll by selling lemonade."

"Do you want to sell lemonade in front of the house?" She agrees.

"Please mommy, tell me I can." She looks at me with those same big brown eyes as her father.

"All right, we'll buy things after breakfast and set up your stand in front of the house."

...

After breakfast we get out of the house and went to the store to buy the necessary supplies, we bought lemons, sugar and colorful paper for a sign.

Eva couldn't contain her excitement as we set up a lemonade stand in our front yard.

After setting up we sat down and waited for the first people to come by and buy.

She wanted to write on the sign "Lemonade for Carlos" and when people came to buy she explained that she was selling it to buy a birthday present for her dad.

Obviously her cute face and speech moved people who ended up buying the lemonades and I had also made some cookies and brownies that she was selling too.

We were at the end of the day when Carlos arrived, as the race was here in Spain this weekend, the team was organizing here so he was in a meeting all day.

"What are you two doing?" He asks and as soon as she sees him she starts to smile.

"Daddy." She runs up to him who, after taking her in his arms, walks towards me and starts laughing at the sign.

"Lemonade for Carlos?" He asks.

"Yes, mommy and I sold lemonade so I could buy you your birthday present." she said excitedly and I could see that he loved her attitude.

"Oh baby, I love what you've done." She smiles and hugs him tighter.

"Well, we've finished work, so what do you say we go in, have a shower and celebrate with pizza?" They both agreed and that's what we did.

...

Eva was already asleep and I was lying on our bed sending the photos of the lemonade stand to Carlos' mother, who thought it was very funny that her granddaughter had come up with the idea.

"Are you going to sleep yet?" He asked, lying down next to me.

"Actually, I was going to read a bit, but if you want to talk." I say, putting the book in my nightstand and turning to him.

"Whose idea was that? The lemonade thing?"

"Your daughter's." I say and he smiles. "She came down today asking if she could buy you a present and I said I'd give her some money but she didn't want to and said she'd work to get the money."

"I love that little girl more than anything." He says sighing and smiling at the ceiling.

I remember very well the day I told him I was pregnant, we'd been trying for a while but it wasn't working. It had been a difficult few months for us, with the problem of getting pregnant, Carlos busy with work and stressed that the Ferrari wasn't good this year.

So I had tests done because I thought the problem was me and that I couldn't get pregnant but when the tests came back clean it added more stress to Carlos because he started to think the he was the problem.

So on the day he went for the test I stayed at home and took advantage of the fact that I was feeling unwell and took the test out of conscience and it turned out I was pregnant. I did a few more to make sure and when they all came back positive I spent the whole time Carlos was away crying and when he came back I told him and he started crying with me, both with relief and happiness.

"I know you do." I said, hugging him. "And I love you for it."

"Do you want more?"

"More what?"

"Children." He says, taking me by surprise.

It's not as if I hadn't already thought about having more children, but Carlos never showed that he wanted more. I think the fact that he gave Eva all the attention in the world made me think that he only wanted her.

"Maybe, do you want more?"

"Before Eva I thought about having more but then we had the problem of having her so when you got pregnant I was content that we'd just have her and I put all my attention and effort into making that little girl happy, but then over the years I started to think that I want to do it again and that I want her to have someone else with her when we're not here anymore." He says sincerely.

"I also want more children with you." He smiles."I never said anything because you never showed that you wanted more children and I see how dedicated you are to Eva."

"But if you wanted more children, why didn't you tell me?"

"Because as much as I wanted to, it's not something I'd regret if I didn't, I love you and our family so much and I am really happy with what we have."

"I love you too and we don't need to decide anything now."

"I know." He smiles and kisses me.

"Daddy." We hear that little voice at the door. "Can I come in?"

"Yes." He says, pulling away from me and looking at the door to see her come in clutching a Lightning McQueen plush Charles gave her since she calls him Uncle McQueen. "What happened?"

"It's just that I missed you and I was wondering if I could sleep with you and mommy." She says and I can see Carlos melting with love.

"Of course you can, my love." He says and she goes to his side, who picks her up and puts her in the middle of us. "I love you, you know that?"

"Yes, I love you too." She says, closing her eyes. "Good night mommy, good night daddy."

"Good night, baby." We kissed her forehead and all went to sleep.

Bonus scene!

Y/nsainz instagram post

Liked by @carlossainz, @charlesleclerc, @reysvdec and others 92730

Y/nsainz “Lemonade for Carlos”, who wants it?

@carlossainz can I have one please?

@y/nsainz yess you can daddy - Eva

@charlesleclerc can uncle McQueen have one too?

@y/nsainz yess you can uncle McQueen - Eva

@Thesainzfamily that’s the best seller ever

@reysvdec muy hermosa

Liked by @y/nsainz and @carlossainz

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ivystoryweaver · 3 months ago

Note

your dads rival!leto atreides headcanons were delicious what do you think about dads rival!nathan bateman?

Your Father’s Rival!Nathan Bateman

Would Nathan engage in mainstream, juvenile behavior simply to piss off his rival? (Yes. Yes he would) Notes: smut, a bunch of oral, language. it's naughty

Word count: 3k

The above^ mentioned Father'sRival!Leto Atreides hc's @reallyrallyauthor received similar asks (Father's Rival!Nathan) and you HAVE to read the thots and headcanons - they are amazing

Everyone’s on Bluebook. Everyone. Except your family. Your friends never stop complaining about it. Your dad owns a less popular, less lucrative, but still - formidable social media platform, in addition to the rest of his business

And he hates Nathan Bateman.

He and Nathan went to school together-ish, briefly. Your dad was a superstar TA, about to finish his master's degree, when a sixteen-year-old freshman stole his spotlight. Nathan finished his two degrees and all his postgraduate work in two years,

Never got a doctorate because it was “boring.”

Your dad insists Nathan stole the idea for Bluebook. You just laugh at him. “Sure, he did, Dad.”

Despite your father's insistence to the contrary, you show up on Bluebook because you’re always in pictures with your friends.

One day your friend calls you absolutely freaking out. After a string of “oh my god oh my god's” she finally tells you that Nathan Bateman himself has liked her photo.

“Sure he did,” you deadpan. (Do you ever believe anyone?)

The next picture posted with you in it (by a completely different friend) gets a like from him. Then another, and another. One of your friends starts to put it together. Nathan has liked seventeen pictures by 6 different friends and the only connecting factor is that you are in each of them.

Then you get the email. “Nathan Bateman has invited you to join Bluebook.” You laugh. Sure it’s him. As if the reclusive billionaire plays middle school games.

But out of overwhelming curiosity and pure, college rebellion, you sign up before you can think too hard about it.

Your friends go crazy. “Look who’s finally here!” You get tagged in a hundred and one things…and Nathan likes every single one of them.

“Nathan Bateman follows you.” With the authenticated checkmark and everything. Your friends become obsessed. They follow every like, screenshotting and reposting like crazy.

Of course, by now, your father is livid. This is a betrayal of your entire family, apparently.

"You cannot give that man an inch," your dad rants, attempting to lecture you while you make dinner.

"What does that even mean?" You huff.

"He's using you to get to me," he conspiratorially rambles, pacing back and forth. "He's trying to destroy me. He's trying to take you away from me."

"He liked some pictures," you shrug, rolling your eyes. "Besides, he probably has like perfect models at his house every other weekend. He definitely doesn't want to take me anywhere."

An alert on your phone chimes.

Nathan Bateman. "Come to a party with me."

Oh shit.

"Who is that?" Your dad practically roars, fearing the worst. He is, unfortunately, correct in assuming Nathan is making a move. Or shit-shirring, whichever.

"Dad, I'm not answering that question." You fold your arms over your chest, tucking your phone out of his sight. "I'm twenty-two. Not twelve."

You lock yourself in your room and reply to Nathan, your heart pounding in your chest as you do.

"How did you get this number?"

"You signed up for Bluebook," He sends back. "I'll pick you up tonight at 10:00."

"Wait, tonight? Where are we going? What do I wear?"

"What you're wearing right now is fine. See you then."

What you're wearing right now.... is he spying on you?

You, of course, change out of your around-the-house clothes and dress in what you hope is passable party attire.

A limo arrives at 10:00 sharp to pick you up and you dart out the door, thankful your dad is already snoring on the couch. The driver opens the door for you, but the car is otherwise empty.

Your phone dings. "You changed clothes. I told you not to."

Your mouth drops open as you furiously type back, "You're really fucking creepy."

"Thank you"

You arrive at the nicest hotel in the city and are shuffled up to the penthouse. Nathan himself greets you in a white undershirt, thin gray joggers and bare feet. The shirt hugs his impressive muscles while the joggers highlight a bulge between his legs that makes your eyes linger.

"Jesus, that took forever. Should've sent the chopper."

He turns on his heel and walks inside, assuming you'll follow, which you do. Glancing around, you realize no one else is at this "party"

He plops down at a dining room table, pulls one leg up into his chair, grabs some chopsticks and continues eating a meal he started without you.

Noticing you standing there, stupefied, he motions to the chair across from him with his chopsticks.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" You scoff, folding your arms over your chest.

Dark eyebrows shoot up over his wire frames questioningly.

"I'm allergic to shellfish...and basically like the whole ocean."

(He knows)

"Shit," he laughs. "Better not post a picture of our date, then, or your father will accuse me of attempted murder."

“Date? This is supposed to be a party."

Before he answers you, he holds up his phone and snaps your picture.

"What the hell are you - "

Ding, ding, dingdingingngngngg before you can even finish your sentence, your phone blows up with Bluebook notifications.

Nathan Bateman has tagged you in a photo. It's you, standing here, now. Thank god you dressed cute, but the expression on your face could be better. Still, you've looked worse.

But it's the caption. My fucking hot date

Nathan grabs the phone out of your hand and silences it, making sure it doesn't vibrate either.

"You have notifications on? Desperate." He tuts condescendingly.

You snatch the phone back and whack Nathan on the arm. "You said party. Not date. Do you ever tell the truth?"

He shrugs. "Well...you are fucking hot."

Smooth. “Why…am I here exactly?”

He nods, shoveling more fish into his mouth. “I know you ate dinner with your dad, but those Italian subs you like are on the way if you’re still hungry.”

"Mr. Bateman, really - "

He snorts. "Mr. Bateman was my father."

You gasp in mock surprise. "You mean to tell me you didn't come out of a test tube?"

He motions at you with his chopsticks. "Where do you get that sense of humor? Certainly not from your father. I've never met anyone with less imagination."

"What do you want, Nathan? Assassination by shellfish?" You fold your arms over your chest. "No way am I worth all this effort."

"Nonsense, I've been orchestrating our meeting for some time." Finally he confesses. "I’m buying out your father’s company and I want you to convince him to surrender peacefully.”

You don’t even know where to begin. Your dad is selling? Nathan’s buying? “You would never need someone like me for something like that.” You call his bluff.

He insists he’ll make it worth your while.

“How?”

He shrugs. “I have a huge dick.”

Wha? “You’re disgusting.”

“Why? According to your porn history, you fantasize about riding a big dick. I have one. Your dad surrenders peacefully, you get to ride my dick.”

"If you wanted me to touch you, you shouldn't have covered yourself in deadly allergens. Dumbass."

He continues eating. “Your loss. Your dad will already think we fucked though.”

He’s right. Everyone will actually, after that picture.

“So you might as well at least get a hate fuck out of it.”

“I hate you,” you redundantly declare. You head for the door. He is way over the line.

“You’ll be back.”

The aftermath is absurd. Your father is enraged, your friends will not shut up about your “date” with Nathan (and demand the details about the alleged sex you had with him).

Nathan sends flowers. Tulips (your favorite) mixed with stargazer lilies (which you’re allergic to). 'Miserable without you' the card says.

Your father half seriously threatens to kick you out.

Nathan tags you on Bluebook, saying you’re going to Hawaii together, if you’ll stop being mad at him.

From there, interested people start a whole narrative online, quickly and easily convincing themselves that you’re together. He texts you for weeks (You text him back. He's funny) and even calls you sometimes.

One evening, his face appears on your screen - a call you didn't accept. "Why are you stalking me?"

"Did you pack for Hawaii yet? I sent some things over."

He's working out. No glasses. Tank top. Sweat. Muscles. Fuck, he's hot.

"Yes, Nathan, I got all twenty packages." With beautiful clothes and accessories exactly your size and style. Damn him.

"But you didn't pack?" He waves his hand dismissively. "Fuck it, I'll buy you new stuff when we get there."

You remind Nathan how he is trying to destroy your father's company, not to mention steal your inheritance, so there is definitely no way you're going to Hawaii with him.

"Come over then. No shellfish, I swear. I'll eat you out instead."

Holy shit.

You’re stupefied.

He groans.

“Are you going to stare at the screen or go outside and get in the limo? I’m waiting.”

This time, the limo takes you to a helipad. You reluctantly climb on a helicopter, briefly wondering if this is a corporate kidnapping or the first leg of your alleged Hawaiian adventure. After quite a long ride, you arrive at a well hidden, sprawling estate, tucked effortlessly into the side of a mountain.

It’s freezing, but Nathan waits for you in a light windbreaker and joggers, with bare feet.

You’re secretly thrilled that he’s waiting to greet you. He kisses your cheek almost affectionately, then turns on his heel and walks away. You follow, naturally.

Once inside, he motions to a gigantic vase filled with calla lilies. “Those are for you. My assistant sent you those fucking stargazer lilies. Well, former assistant. By the way, do you want a job?”

Your hands land on your hips. “You already tried to kill me with shellfish, so I just assumed stargazer lilies were the next logical step. And did you seriously just ask me if I want to be your personal assistant? On the heels of you stealing my inheritance?”

“My assistant made almost as much as your father pays himself before I fired him,” he scoffs, pushing his glasses up his nose with one finger. "I'm not touching your inheritance." He nods to a stack of papers. "It's all right there. Have your attorneys take a look."

Slowly you approach the table, tracing one fingertip over the beautiful calla lilies before reaching for the papers. You sigh, shaking your head. "You're talking about my dad's life work. He'll never agree."

Nathan shrugs one shoulder. "He said he would if I'd leave you alone. Never see you again, ghost you."

Your eyes go wide. "Then what am I doing here?"

He waves his hand dismissively, inching toward you. "I still have to eat you out."

✧ ---------- ✧ ---------- ✧ ---------- ✧

Nathan's thick beard and perfect lips have been nestled scandalously between your thighs for thirty-eight minutes. You've gushed all over him twice, in, hands down, the best orgasms you've ever had in your life.

Better than anybody before him. Better than your vibrator. And your other vibrator.

Your fingertips play with his fuzzy hair as your hips eagerly rock into his face again and again. Tears streak down your cheeks, pooling on the couch pillow under your hair. The overstimulation is like nothing you've ever dreamed - searing every nerve ending in delicious torture.

But you can't stop and he won't stop.

You thought he was fucking with you when he asked you to come over so he could eat you out. He hasn't even used his fingers - only his lips and tongue, stroking, licking, sucking, swirling, fucking up into you over and over. His thick fingers dig into your thighs, holding you in place while his thumbs languidly trace the sensitive spot where your ass meets the back of your thigh.

Body shuddering in rapture, you teeter on the precipice of another wave of pleasure tinged with the slightest discomfort skittering along your spine because it's just too fucking much.

"Nathan...Nathan," you breathlessly moan, halfheartedly attempting to push his shoulders away from your pussy.

He raises his head just long enough to meet your blissed out, watery gaze, smiling in satisfaction. "You're close, honey. Give me one more." And dives back in without a moment's hesitation.

"oh fuck..." incoherent moans and gasps follow as he suckles your clit between his lips so tortuously your back arches off the couch. His tongue joins, rapidly flicking your swollen bud as you shatter and gush, squirting all over his tongue and soaking his beard.

Your vision goes white and your body limply falls away from his mouth as he releases you, groaning with the satisfaction that his rival's daughter is underneath him, whimpering and squirting.

His cock is so hard it hurts and he's leaked through his thin joggers, rubbing himself against your leg while he got you off. Now, as you come back to yourself, he pulls his dick out and jerks it rough and quick, licking his lips at the sight of your glistening pussy that he can still taste in his mouth.

Your eyes flicker open to the sight of Nathan, pants pooled at his ankles, thick fingers wrapped around his dick. He was not lying. His cock is huge. Not comedically huge, like ridiculously, unfuckably huge, but definitely the thickest and longest you've ever had.

Not that you've had him. Yet.

Wetting your lips, you reach up to help him jerk off, which pulls a filthy string of curses from his lips. Pushing your fingers through his, you work up and down his shaft, bringing your other hand underneath him to cup his balls. He hisses and then groans as your tongue swirls over his leaking tip.

"If Daddy could see you now. Naked, on your knees, with my cock in your mouth. Fuck..."

You should be mad, or something. But you open your mouth wider and let Nathan push his cock all the way to the back of your throat, gagging as you swallow his tip. The most beautiful, dirty sounds you've ever heard from a man fall out of his lips as he thrusts a few times in rapid succession, praising and degrading you in the same sentence.

You can't breathe, tears burn your eyes, but through your cloudy vision, you can see his lips moving like a prayer, corded neck straining as he releases his hold in his dick and grips the nape of your neck, fucking your face, thrusting so hard you know your jaw will be sore for days.

You keep jerking him, fondling and caressing every bit of him that won't fit in your mouth. It's been a long time since you sucked a cock, and never one this big, but you keep taking it because he sounds weak for you and he's calling you his and telling you how good you feel.

Your mind fleetingly drifts to the safe word he gave you before he dove into your pussy: the one you shrugged off, as if he could possibly make you need it.

He scoffed at you. "Honey, if you don't wanna safeword tonight, I'm doing something wrong."

"Asshole," you huffed as he licked the first stripe between your folds, sending your head flying back and your mouth gasping.

You tap his leg forcefully three times and he instantly pulls out of your mouth as you gag and sputter, your weight falling forward. Bracing yourself on your hands, you drag in gulps of air, realizing that Nathan is above you finishing himself off, getting off on the fact that he's ruined you.

Hot spurts of come splatter across your bare shoulders and back. "Stay down," he orders, sent over the edge by the sight of you naked and on all fours. He unloads on you, painting your skin until he's spent. He flops back on the other end of the sofa, half naked, limp dick flopping as his eyes squeeze shut in bliss.

You're drenched in cum and sweat and your slick, filthy and somehow still wildly turned on. The thought fleetingly crosses your mind - that you wish Nathan would take your picture. Not to post, but it would just feel deliciously dirty to know he had a picture of your naked body, covered in his cum, that he could jerk off to.

"I should post a picture of you now," he lazily grins, reading your mind. "Really piss him off. Get banned from my own site."

You stand, hands landing on bare hips. "Are you going to mention my dad every time we fuck?"

He chuckles, standing to join you. "Have we even really fucked yet? Let's clean up. Our flight to Hawaii is in four hours."

"Hawaii again?" You gasp. "Nathan - "

"Look, you drive a hard bargain," he concedes, throwing his hands up. Reaching for his glasses, he kicks off his joggers off his ankles, now as naked as you. "Final offer: I'm already getting your dad's company. He's being fairly compensated. You still get your inheritance and you have generous stock in my company."

Inching forward, he reaches for the swell of your hips, pulling you flush against his muscled chest. "You get to ride my dick, you come with me to Hawaii, I get to post a selfie of us in bed together."

Your mouth drops open.

"Just from the shoulders up," he counters, before you can fire off a protest.

"I don't think I'm getting much out of this deal," you pout. "Your dick can't be that good."

"It is," he almost playfully assures you, nodding rapidly.

As you roll your eyes, he nibbles on your bottom lip. "Come on. I've never made this much effort for anyone."

"You hate my dad that much?"

"No. I want to fuck you that much."

"You're full of shit, Bateman."

"Smile." He snaps your picture. You dive for the phone, squealing at him not to post it. He has no intention of doing so, but attempting to wrestle the phone away from him is how you end up on his living room floor, riding his huge dick.

As your eyes roll back in your head while you're coming, Nathan smirks victoriously.

✧ ---------- ✧ ---------- ✧ ---------- ✧

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fandomfics · 2 months ago

Text

Please Don't Leave Me

Pairing: Wade Wilson x Logan Howlett

Based on this post from @wolvesofinnistrad

Description: Wade and Logan are stuck in the bodies of their variants, who also happen to be grossly lacking in the mutated gene department.

Masterlist

⚠️Warnings⚠️

Angst, fluff, mentions of suicide, suicidal ideations, suicide attempt, PTSD, violence, language, lgbtq, 4th wall breaks.

. . .

"Papa! Daddy! Wake up!" 11 year old Laura says as she bounces onto the plush mattress holding her dads.

Logan's eyes shoot open before scanning over the handsome man that lays next to him. The other man does the same as Laura babbles about how excited she is to spend the weekend with "Auntie Vanessa".

"Hey hon, why don't you go get yourself ready?" Logan says softly without taking his eyes off the other man.

"Okay Papa!" She bounds off again out of the room, closing the door behind her.

"What the fuck?" Logan sits straight up exposing his chest.

"Mornin' Peanut, treating me to a show so early? Really know how to make a girl feel special."

"Wade?"

"Who else would it be sugar tits?" Wade says, bringing a hand up to rub his face. He feels the smoothness beneath his fingertips and lets out an almost inaudible gasp. His eyes widen as he looks over his hand and arm before feeling all over his body. He's like he was before. The shock keeps him quiet until he feels Logan's hand on his shoulder.

"You alright bub?" He knows Wade's internal struggles with his appearance, he covers it with self loathing jokes at his own expense, happy to bury it deep down, still, it creeps up on him.

"Of course. Look at this beautiful fucking face!" Wade jumps out of bed to spin around like a princess in a flowy skirt before grabbing the hem of his boxers to curtsey to Logan.

"Okay, but what the fuck?" He looks over himself again, his eyes drawn to the ring on his left hand. His eyes widen as he looks up to Wade once more, a similar band adorning his ring finger. Wade snaps out of his reverie when he catches on and jumps back onto the bed on his hands and knees, crawling towards Logan.

"Wanna put a baby in me honey badger?" He says seductively, "We are married... and maybe Laura needs a sibling!"

"Shut the fuck up Wade." Logan moves to extend his claws and stab him for his comment but nothing happens. He feels his hands. They're gone, he doesn't feel the adamantium beneath his skin, "something is wrong."

"Yeah, you haven't stabbed me yet."

"Exactly! My claws are gone."

"Your claws are gone, I don't look like ground beef, we're married...sounds kinda nice to me." Wade says as he grabs a photo of their little family with a small smile. Logan sits there aghast, why is Wade so...relaxed?

. . .

"You're stuck. At least until Ouroborus recalibrates the rogue tempad that did this to you. Until then, just play house. This is a fairly innocuous timeline you happened to get stuck in. Just don't go looking for trouble. We'll arrange for time off from your variants jobs and give you additional funds, hopefully this will lessen the disturbance of the timeline." B-15 says sternly through the communicator.

"How long will that take?" Logan says, turning to Ouroborus.

"A week or two maybe to source all the components and get everything together. Here's the address I'll be at if you need anything." He slips Logan a piece of paper before exiting their apartment.

Logan growls in frustration before turning to Wade, "This is fucking ridiculous. How did you manage to grab the wrong Tempad?"

"Fuck if I know, I can't be held responsible for my own actions! Let's snoop around, find out about ourselves, shall we?" He says with a small clap.

"Nah, I'm going to the bar. Don't wait up."

. . .

When Logan stumbles back into the apartment around 2am he finds Wade asleep on the couch, photo albums scattered around the coffee table and floor, open to various pages. He glances at the album laying on Wade's stomach, their wedding. The images of happy people surrounding the couple as they take their first dance together sends a pang of sadness to his heart. These are all people he recognises, people that he let down. He packs up every album, doing his best not to look at the photos, desperately wanting to avoid feeling his past.

He doesn't want to be here. He wants to go back to what he knows, not live in this weird fairytale where everything is normal and perfect. He leaves Wade where he is and lays in bed staring up at the ceiling, contemplating what he's going to do while he's stuck like this.

. . .

The smell of breakfast food makes its way to Logan's nostrils as his eyes flutter open in the soft morning light. He groans heavily before standing and making his way to the kitchen, when he rounds the corner Wade yelps in surprise.

"Damn it Wolvie, warn a girl you're coming! Now there's blood on the cantaloupe!" He raises a finger to point out a cut. When he looks at the area again his eyes go wide. "It's not healing."

They didn't think about the fact that they were entirely human. No mutation whatsoever, they could die. They risked everything to save Wade's timeline, and as difficult as it is for Logan to say out loud, he has found his family. Both he and Wade had found something to live for again. Neither of them wanted to lose that now.

"Fuck. Wade, you need to be careful." He starts to move towards him but stops short, turning towards the fridge instead. "You need to stay out of trouble."

"No Merc work for me then." Wade sighs before cleaning up the cut and returning to the task at hand. He plates the food and places the meal on the table where Logan now sits with a cup of coffee.

"Thanks." He mumbles.

Wade is quiet as they eat, deeply unsettling Logan. "Awfully quiet over there bub." He tries to look Wade in the eyes but his head remains down and focused on his food. "Wade. Earth to dumbass. Hello?"

His head snaps up and he smiles at his breakfast companion, though Logan notices it doesn't reach his eyes.

"You're too quiet. I don't like it."

"Eh, you're always telling me to shut the fuck up! Maybe I've finally taken your words to heart." He grasps his chest in mock pain. "Anyways, I was just thinking of all the boring normal people stuff we get to do while we're here! Really get to see how the other half lives!"

. . .

Throughout the day Logan catches Wade drifting off with his thoughts, a deep sadness glazing over his eyes.

“Get up pretty boy, we're going out.” Logan says shrugging on a jacket, he feels a desperate need to cheer him up, help him work through whatever is going on in his head.

Wade's eyes snap up from the TV show he's not really watching, and he blushes, “Nah, I'm good here for now.” His gaze returns to the show.

“No the fuck you're not.” Logan steps between him and the TV.

“Let me watch Gilmore Girls in peace, Logan!” His voice is raised, anger contorting his features.

“Not until you let me take you out. Or tell me what's wrong. Or both! Fuck, Wade, you've been miserable all day!”

“I have not, I've just been… contemplative.”

Logan rolls his eyes and grabs his hands, pulling him up from the couch. He pushes him towards the bedroom, “get dressed, or I'll do it for you.”

“Jesus, okay.” Wade complies.

Nothing about Wade is normal right now, no witty comebacks, not sexual innuendos. Logan's worry only grows with each moment his friend is not his usual talkative self.

“Where are we going anyway?” Wade asks as they walk out the door.

“The boardwalk.”

“Why? That's like top date ideas for fanfic writers.” He says plainly, disturbing him further.

“Just let me take you out.”

“Like a date? No thanks.”

“I- what? You wouldn't want to go on a date with me? I-” Logan stops, he doesn't know why he said that, or why Wade saying no sent a sharp pain through his chest. “Just come on.”

Logan walks faster, wanting to forget the feeling of Wade's rejection. When they finally arrive at their destination they are met with a colorful atmosphere with bright lights and the sound of joy framed by the deep blue black of the night sky.

“Come here.” Logan grabs his hand and pulls him to a dart toss game. When they stand in front of the booth Logan drops his hand, a light blush creeping up his neck.

“I'm gonna win you that giant unicorn right there.” Logan says with a smile. When he looks at Wade he sees something other than sadness finally, his eyes light up and a smile starts to form.

. . .

“That game is rigged.” Logan snarls as they walk away.

“Yeah, this unicorn is definitely not worth anywhere near the $200 you spent trying to win it.” Wade beams as he squeezes the plush tightly. “Thank you.”

“I didn't exactly plan to spend all the money I brought trying to get that unicorn…” Logan looks sheepishly to Wade.

“S’alright honey badger. We can go home and play poker.” Wade winks. “There’s a specific one I’m thinking of that doesn’t involve money.” He wiggles his eyebrows.

There it is.

. . .

“So are you going to tell me what's going on?” Logan breaks the silence halfway through their walk back.

“I-” Wade stops and Logan follows suit, turning to look at him. “I didn't think it would be like this. I didn't think I would feel disappointed being…normal. Maybe it's because I know I'll have to go back to my regular ol’ ugly mug when this is over.”

“That's what this is about?”

“And…”

“And what Wade?”

“You don't like that me.” His answer is nearly inaudible, “but clearly you like this me.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You married this me. Called me pretty boy. This version of me is what you want. The one you want to hang around, try to cheer up. The one you won a stupid stuffed unicorn for.”

“That's what this variant wants. I don't want this. I don't want to be stuck here where everything is normal and you aren't you.” Logan continues enraged, “I'm trying to cheer you up, I won that for you. Not your variant. I can't wait to escape this hell and go back to normal.”

Wade's eyes glisten with tears, one spills over and Logan wipes it away before cupping his cheek. “Come on, let's go ho-”

A sudden scream from a nearby alley echoes through the quiet. Wade runs full speed towards the sound, Logan hot on his heels. When they reach the source they find a woman being held at gunpoint.

“Gimme your purse lady!” The man dressed in all black pushes her against the brick building behind her.

Before she can comply the men catch the robbers attention, “Cliché much?” Wade yells out.

“Mind your business asshole.” The man retorts.

“Watch your fucking mouth in front of the lady!” Wade charges full force towards the man unicorn still in hand.

Logan follows yet again, he flings his fists out before recalling that he is powerless. Fear courses through his body as he yells, “Wade no, you can't!”

Just then a shot rings out through the alley and Wade falls to the ground, stuffing and blood flying everywhere. The man runs off and Logan drops to his knees next to Wade, screaming for the woman to call an ambulance. He puts pressure on the wound in his stomach, tears stream down his face as Wade looks up at him from below.

“Fuck, don't do this to me, please.” He pleads

“It's fine, I'll heal.” Wade says weakly.

“No, you won’t, you idiot. You can't leave me like this.”

. . .

Logan is a mess of emotions, his mind continuously revolving around one thought. This is his fault. If they had just stayed home… if he hadn't spent all their money on the one stupid game so they could stay longer… if he had rushed the asshole with the gun before Wade could, he would be the one on death's doorstep instead. He deserved it, he fucked up plenty in his life. Wade didn't deserve to bear the brunt of his mistakes.

After hours and hours in surgery the doctor enters the waiting room, “Mr. Wilson, your husband is in recovery now. He's got a long road ahead, but he'll be fine.”

“When can I see him?”

“He won't be awake for a while, but you can stay with him, come this way.”

. . .

Logan sits in a chair beside Wade's hospital bed. Head in his hands, contemplating everything he's feeling at the moment. The relief is there, but something else nags at him, eating away at his insides until it bursts forth in a fit of word vomit.

“I’m so sorry Wade, this is all my fault. I should have just stayed home with you. I just want to go back to our home, in our timeline, with our people. I don't know what I would do if I lost you too. I've lost so many fucking people, but I don't know if I could survive losing you. I don't know if I'd want to.”

He sighs heavily as the weight of his words settle in his chest. Exhaustion takes its hold and he finally drifts off, sitting up in the chair.

He's standing in the alley again, the moment Wade gets shot replays in slow motion, again and again. He is unable to move from his spot as he watches on in horror, entirely useless. He jolts awake to find Wade safe in front of him, happily snacking on jello.

“Hey Peanut. Are you good? Looked like one hell of a nightmare.”

He nods his head, relief seeping through his pores as he looks at the man in front of him. “I'm fine, I'm just…happy to see you awake.”

“Is she okay?”

“Who?”

“The woman, from the alley?”

“Yeah, she made it out without a scratch thanks to your dumb ass.”

“Then it was worth it.”

Logan's face falls. His head and his heart conflicted by Wade's words. Sure, he's glad the woman is safe, but at what cost? Is it selfish to wish they never came across the situation?

“Hey, I'm fine. I did hear everything you said Logi Bear…” Wade says as he focuses on getting the remains of the Jello. Logan's head snaps up, a look of panic on his face, “The clown strippers, the giant hot air balloon that looks like a dick, the thing with the birds…”

Logan rolls his eyes, realizing Wade is fucking with him.

“So you did say something vulnerable and touching! I was just taking a guess. You know, it's guaranteed when any character is asleep in a hospital, whoever is with them makes some grand confession.”

“Maybe I'll tell you when we get back home.” He says with an air of finality.

. . .

“Daddy!” Laura runs into the room ahead of Vanessa.

“Whoa there,” Logan catches her before she attempts to jump onto Wade's bed. “We have to be very careful, Daddy got hurt. You have to be gentle when you sit with him, okay honey?”

Laura looks up, big doe eyes full of confidence, “Okay Papa!”

His heart melts at the sight as he places her next to Wade on the bed, he wraps his arms around her and kisses the top of her head. He's enjoying every second of the part he's playing, something Logan never would have guessed.

“Thanks for bringing her by, and taking care of her while we're here.” Logan says to Vanessa.

“Anything for the two of you. I'll be back for her in a few hours. Text me if you need anything, okay?”

He nods a silent thank you to her, eternally grateful that he doesn't have to deal with all of this alone.

Laura presents Wade a book, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone. “Can we finish it?”

“I just hope this timeline’s JK isn't a terf that our variants are supporting.” He chides, “but yes tiny peanut, we can finish it.”

He opens the book and reads to her as Logan watches in awe. He's different again, but not in a bad way. In a way that Logan appreciates, his voice is softer, his usual asides are a bit more kid friendly, and he's smiling. A lot. Logan can't help but smile too.

The happiness doesn’t last long as the time drags by, days passing so slowly it’s torturous. The smells and sounds of the hospital igraine itself on Logan's senses, grating his nerves more by the day. The monotony does little to alleviate the worry building through him every moment his thoughts are allowed to roam.

He puts on the mask of a brave face for Wade but the cracks become more evident the closer they get to the two week mark.

“Peanut,” Wade says softly, breaking his blank stare at the TV, “what's going on, you've been… broody. Like, the kind of broody you were when we first met.” his voice trails off as he makes the connection between his history and his behavior now.

“Leave it alone.” Logan says gruffly, fighting against every fiber of his being to go find a bar to drown his feelings. It was easier without the healing factor, cheaper too.

“No way. You tried to help me so–”

“Yeah, and look where it got ya! You could have died, and it would have been my fault. Again.”

“Lo, stop-”

“No, you stop! You pretend everything’s peachy, but I could have got you killed. It doesn't matter where I am, destruction follows. I'm fucking cursed.”

Without another word Logan leaves. He can't stand it anymore, he needs to get away from the people he cares about. Wait the rest of this hell out, then return to the void and let Alioth take him. It's what he should have done before.

He hides in the home their variants share, every call and knock on the door goes unanswered. It's only a few more days before Ouroborus arrives to return him to normal. The relief that washes over him nearly brings him to tears when he opens the door.

“Let's make this quick. You step through the portal, your variant will stay behind, you'll be you again.” He says as he crosses the threshold.

“Wade?”

“Already home.”

“Can you send me to the TVA? I have something to take care of.”

. . .

Logan opens his eyes to a familiar sight, 20th Century Fox.

He doesn't really know where to go from here, so he wanders the vast open plains, hoping that Alioth will swallow him whole sooner, rather than later. Eventually he comes across a welcome familiar sight, Sister Margarets.

He enters the dilapidated building surprised to find plenty of liquor still available, maybe Remy hadn't found this place, he thinks to himself. He grabs an arm full of bottles and situates himself at a table to await the sound of his impending death.

He drinks heavily straight from the bottle, trying hard not to think about the pain he brings wherever he goes. Eventually, with enough alcohol, the numbness overtakes him, his vision goes fuzzy at the edges and his head spins, another deep gulp sends him over the edge and his head falls to the table with a thud as he passes out.

Eventually he wakes to the sound of rumbling thunder roaring towards him. A mixture of relief and despair pulses in his chest as he steps out into the open and takes in the view of the monstrous clouded being in the distance. Slowly he walks forward, allowing his mind to wander to Laura, Vanessa, Al, dogpool, Peter, Wade. His family. He closes his eyes, allowing their images and happy memories to play in his head as the beast approaches quickly.

“Logan!” he hears Wade’s voice calling to him as his face appears in his mind's eye.

Suddenly he’s pulled back towards the bar, entirely caught off guard by the change. His eyes shoot open and he turns to see wade, “Logan, what the fuck are you doing? Come on!”

Logan pulls away and faces Alioth again, “Let me go Wade, you’d be better off without me around. Everyone would.” “You selfish fucking prick, no. We wouldn’t be.” A loud shot resounds and Logan’s vision goes dark.

. . .

“Oh, look who’s finally awake.” Wade stands over Logan as his eyes flutter open and he lifts his head. “Did you shoot me in the fucking head?”

“Yeah Peanut. I shot you in the head to keep you from unaliving yourself. Ironic, but it worked.” Wade Scolds.

“Why couldn’t you just let me go?” He closes his eyes and lets his head fall back to the floor with a thump.

Wade scoffs and walks towards the bathrooms of the bar. The dread Logan feels at this moment makes him sick to his stomach, he knows he needs to do something to convince Wade to let him do this, he'll waste too much time fighting him otherwise. Logan makes his way to the door of the bathroom he entered and sits just outside the door.

“I can’t keep living like this Wade, I just hurt everyone around me. None of you deserve whatever comes for you if I stay. If I’m not around you can all live happy lives.”

Wade exits the bathroom and sits next to Logan, with his mask removed he can see the tears that glisten in his eyes. “I’m going with you then.”

“No Wade, you’re not. You’ve got plenty to live for, you’ve got Vanessa.You’ll be happier without me.” Logan stands and returns to the entrance of the bar. He opens the door to see that the danger has passed and he allows a heavy sigh to deflate him.

He feels a hand on his shoulder and turns to see Wade, tears freely flowing. “I will not be okay without you, and Vanessa is just as much your friend as she is mine.”

“Wade I-”

“Please don’t leave me.” Wade’s words strike a nerve, the visual of him the hospital bed invading his mind, bringing tears to his own eyes.

“You almost died, and it was my fault!” he shrugs his hand off his shoulder.

“It wasn’t your fault Logan!”

“If I hadn’t taken you-”

“It was my fault. I knew what I was doing when I took that tempad.” Wade looks down in shame, “I didn’t mean for you to get caught up in it too. It was just supposed to be me. I wanted to be normal for a bit. Know what it was like.”

“You risked your life to feel normal in a timeline that you were stuck with me?”

“You say that like you're not a total catch.”

“I'd say I can't believe you'd do something so stupid, but I'd be lying.”

Wade chuckles, “Please, tell me you'll stay.”

“You can't change my mind. It was still my fault, I couldn't protect you. I don't want to be the reason the people I love die.”

“You…love me?”

“Fuck, of course, you're…my best friend.” Logan whispers, rubbing his face in exasperation as he turns back to the bar. “It doesn't matter, I'm not good enough. Go back home to Vanessa.”

Wade’s face drops, “I don't want her, I just- If I can't leave with you, I'm not going.”

“Why do you have to be so fucking stubborn?”

“Because I love you, and not just because you're my best friend, I'm in love with you, and I can't do this, I can't watch you destroy yourself like this. It fucking hurts Logan. I wouldn't be okay. I don't care if you don't feel what I feel, I just… I can't lose you, please. We can get you help…please, come home.” Wade sobs.

“Okay.” Logan is just as shocked by his answer as he is by Wade's confession. It takes a moment for his brain to catch up, but when it does, he finds himself with his arms wrapped around Wade, profusely apologizing. Wade settles into the crushing hug, holding on tight.

. . .

A four month hiatus from TVA work, therapy, and no alcohol. Logan was feeling lighter, better equipped to handle the fierce emotions he felt at his lowest. He still has so much work to do, but he was well on his way.

The initial embarrassment of needing the help quickly fell to the wayside when Wade offered to keep quiet about the situation until he was ready to talk about it himself. The whole experience helped him see Wade in a new light, he was still the same off the wall merc with a mouth, but he cared deeply for Logan's well being, and it showed more and more as every new challenge arose.

Soon after their return Wade gave Laura his spot in the apartment with Althea and proposed a new living arrangement to Logan. Just the two of them, he could still have Wade for support, but his own space to escape to if needed.

. . .

One afternoon as the light streams into the living room, casting an angelic golden glow on Wade as he sits on the floor playing with dogpool, Logan admires him. His soft smile as he talks to her about the upcoming doggy pageant she'll be a part of, the ridiculous plan to dominate the competition, the weird references he makes that Logan doesn't understand. Over time things that he once found annoying about the Merc he came to appreciate.

Logan is too lost in thought to realize that Wade has spoken to him. “Huh?”

“I was asking what you think would be best for the talent portion Wolvie! Knife throwing or a gymnastics routine?”

Logan snorts a laugh, “Why not both?”

“Genius!” Wade looks down to Mary, “ohh, someone's butthole’s puckered! You need to go for walkies?” Mary prances around in reply.

“Mind if I tag along?”

“Wolverines need walkies too!” Wade smiles up at Logan, “let's make it kinky, I'll get your leash.” He says with a wink.

Logan rolls his eyes, “Watch it, mouth.”

. . .

“Wade?” Logan stops and turns to him as they make their way back to the apartment.

“Yeah Peanut?”

“I want to thank you.”

“No need to thank me, I'll take you for walkies any time. Exercise releases happy chemicals that make your brain go brrrr. You know what else does? Fu-” “Wade! Listen to me.” Wade puts his hands up in mock surrender and allows him to continue, “I want to thank you for everything you’ve done for me in the last year. Bringing me into your home, helping me through… everything.”

“It’s what you do for the people you love.” Wade says with a smile. “Keeping that sweet ass around for eye candy is just an added boner, I mean bonus.”

Logan chuckles at the crudeness he’s come to expect, “There was something else,” he moves closer to Wade, searching his eyes, “I-” Logan closes the distance between them, wrapping his arms around Wade’s waist and pulling him close. “I’m in love with you Wade. Please tell me you still feel the same.”

“Ah, it’s one of those dreams.” Wade says disappointedly.

“I understand.” Logan hangs his head and releases Wade before walking into the apartment building. Wade stands where he left him in shock.

“That’s never happened in these dreams before.” Wade pinches himself, “Ouch! Oh, fuck.”

He runs up the stairs and slams the apartment door open, catching sight of Logan just as he slips into his room and closes the door.

“Here baby.” He releases Mary Puppins to run free before going to knock on Logan’s door. “Lo, I’m sorry, I was confused. Can we talk?” The door swings open and Logan leans against the frame, eyes red and glistening with unshed tears.

“You don’t wanna be stuck with this do you?” Wade points to his face with a sardonic chuckle, “You’re just confused right? My feelings never changed, but you don’t need to do this out of some sort of weird obligation for helping you, I know this-”

He’s cut off when Logan crashes into him, an arm slipping back around his waist with the other resting against the side of his neck as he pulls him into a searing kiss. A year of longing funneled into a passionate embrace that neither wants to break as Wade clutches onto Logan.

“I’ve wanted to tell you for so long, but I need to be better for you.” Logan says after finally breaking the kiss, “I fucking love you.”

-End

. . .

WHOA WHOA WHOA, you can't just leave a glaring plot hole like that. Come on, tell us what happened to our variants after we left! One of em woke up in a hospital after getting shot, two weeks of missing time, and a raging hard on!

Bro, no one cares about that, they just wanted to read about Logan realizing he caught feelings for you. They honestly might have wanted smut too, but I thought it might cheapen the story. I was focusing on your pasts and insecurities, really wanted to hone in on that, explore those thoughts and feelings.

You write so much fucking smut and you couldn't do me a solid here? Plot hole and a cock block. I'm with everyone else on this site, I WANNA FUCK THAT OLD MAN. no lube, no protection, all night all day, from the kitchen floor to the toilet seat, from the dining table to bedroom, from the front porch to the balcony, vertically, horizontally, exponential, logarithmic, while i gasp for air and scream the lord's prayer, HE CAN TOP ME.

Look, I get it. Me too, sincerely, from the bottom of my heart, I'd tap that. I'm sorry, but you're not fucking in this one.

How about part 2, ALL SMUT.

Maybe if I can get a few comments or reblogs asking for it.

I BESEECH THE, USERS OF TUMBLR, PLEASE, GET ME LAID.

Wait, I thought you wanted to know about the plot hole.

Nah, I'm too horny now.

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somewhere-at-the-burrow · 3 months ago

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hii!!! i hope your move into your college dorms went well ☺️

im so happy i found your blog, its amazing! i am an aspiring shifter, i’m shifting to a hogwarts-related DR with the main desire to fall in love with my s/o (i love love haha) but also to just be at hogwarts, have fun, have adventures, three work at the ministry, etc - so i would like to permashift!

i adore your aesthetic and everythingg, im learning so much and just reading your posts make me super happy! you inspired me to create a blog too. hopefully i’ll have experiences that i can share soon

and we’re almost the same myers-briggs type - i am an infj 🩵

i have a few questions, i hope they’re not too much ~

do you have a waiting room, and if not, if you were to have one, what do you think it would look like

2. did you script others’ names for random students at Hogwarts (like did you script that italian guy coming to Hogwarts, or did you just script that your DR plays out with interesting scenarios and drama scenarios and that is how it played out?) i feel like i remember you said you didn’t script stuff like that, i’m still reading through all of your posts so i’m so sorry if you already mentioned this!

3. did you age up to 15 years old for fourth year? did you keep the same 7 year format for hogwarts?

4. do you have another dr that follows the main harry potter x voldemort plot?

5. is there a muggle washing machine equivalent in the wizarding world? is there a laundry room where you bring all your dirty clothes in to be washed? who washes them, the house elves, or is there a way for students to do it on their own and they pick it up when it’s clean and dry? does that mean your clothes have to be labeled with your name? i feel like i remember in the sorcerer’s stone that they got crabbe and goyle’s uniforms with their names on it from the laundry or something!

6. do students wear muggle clothing after school or on the weekends? the prisoner of azkaban was such an aesthetic because of the jeans and 90’s style clothing everyone wore after school but i would think everyone mostly wore their uniforms, even after classes are done for the day, like in the books, but i’m not sure!

7. can you only go to hogsmeade on the weekends? like if you need a quill or book for school and it’s not a hogsmeade weekend yet, would you have to get an order form and send it by owl to a shop and send over the galleons by mail and your order is delivered to you by magical mail?

8. so sorry if this is a little tmi, no need to answer if it’s uncomfortable! but as a girl, i’ve always wondered how do girls deal with their cycle while at hogwarts? is there a magical cloth pad that absorbs everything without needing to change it?

9. did you script in that there would be magazines like Seeker Weekly that you and Ginny read? i’m so excited to be a Quibbler magazine subscriber

10. did you have to study the layout and appearance of hogwarts, common rooms, the burrow, hogsmeade, diagon alley, knockturn alley, the hogwarts express, etc. before you shifted? a big part of my problem is that i feel like i need to script in everythinggg detail by detail because i suppose i don’t believe that everything will just play out (im a perfectionist and my anxiety is not making it easy 😭)

11. does news from the muggle world get into the wizarding world, or does it feel like the two worlds are truly separate/does it feel like you’re in a lovely bubble in the wizarding world?

i’m so sorry for all the questions!!

thank you!!! 🥹 🩵🩵🩵

you're so sweet! also, thank you so much angel!! i'm so glad my blog can be of help to you... and your blog is looking awesome already .. i'll def be sticking around to see how it goes <3

𝖆𝖓𝖘𝖜𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖒𝖔𝖗𝖊 𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘 !

{ about my Hogwarts reality }

do you have a waiting room, and if not, if you were to have one, what do you think it would look like

waaaay back in the beginning of my shifting journey, I envisioned having a waiting room that was similar to Newt Scamander's case! I created many layout sketches for it and thought about it all the time, but I've never actually shifted there yet. I also thought about having this magic suitcase include a ladder that leads to a wizarding world reality, but I didn't have one at the time so it just didn't work out. I think the idea is very fun, though! just imagine having the coziest little workshop with bowtruckles and vivarium environments to visit... it sounds so relaxing. in my version, I also envisioned a magical greenhouse with colorful tiles, a kitchen to bake whatever I want, and pathways that lead all over the workshop / vivariums!

I personally didn't script anything about how school would work in terms of people there / drama. that is just how it turned out, I guess! I think if you really wanted to, you could script the possibility for drama or different scenarios, but I wanted to see how Hogwarts social circles would play out if I didn't really script anything! and BOY IS IT CRAZY. sometimes I get so caught up in the daily events in my personal schedule, I forget that there is drama happening 24/7 with people that don't exist ANYWHERE in canon. something that was also interesting is the fact that most of my best friends do not exist in canon. I was fully expecting to only be friends with the "main characters", but shifting is real life and you can really have no idea how things like that will play out!

3. did you age up to 15 years old for fourth year? did you keep the same 7 year format for hogwarts?

the 7 year format is the same at my Hogwarts, except we start our first year when we are 15 years old! so, I guess you could say it is kind of like a university / Hogwarts mix? I knew that I wanted to shift into the chamber of secrets timeline, and because I am in the same year as George and Fred, I did the math for how I could interpret my current age into entering my fourth year at Hogwarts. so everyone is aged up!

4. do you have another dr that follows the main harry potter x voldemort plot?

I thought about it once, but when I actually started shifting to my weasley reality, I realized that I didn't want to go through the stress of crazy (and most times traumatic) plot lines. although the harry potter canon events can be pretty interesting sometimes, actually being there and starting my class schedule gave me a bit of an existential crisis and I don't want to deal with that AND umbridge (for example!)

this is such a cool question, and I was definitely very curious about this as well before I shifted! at my Hogwarts, there are multiple different ways you can get your laundry done (depending on how fast you need it cleaned etc). the most common option is through the dorm laundry basket, which is usually in the bathroom and is magically collected every evening. there is a laundry room near the Kitchens, and there are staff (wizards and house elves) that use cleaning spells to wash through the laundry baskets they collect! they then fold the clothes and the hamper re-appears in our dorms usually by the next evening. there is also a second option for students who may only have one uniform to cycle through, and that is usually through walking down to the laundry room (typically during the free hours before dinner) and washing it yourself. because the laundry staff have so many clothes to get through, this is the fastest because laundry and drying spells do not take hardly any time in the wizarding world and sometimes working at your own pace is best. IT IS AMAZING!! and yes! you can also pick up your clothes from the wash room if you so choose, but it is so much easier to just use the dorm laundry basket IT MAKES ME SO LAZY FR

Hogwarts uniforms are only necessary during official school hours, so from 8/9am -- 4:30pm. also, fridays depend on the student's schedule, because sometimes professors will schedule classes on friday but they are usually a study day! the general rule is to put on your uniform if you are visiting a study hall (library, great hall resource hour, selkie commons, etc), and you can take off your uniform and change into regular clothes after school is done or on the weekends. it is pretty common to see an array of students at dinner both wearing their uniforms AND wearing everyday clothes. on the weekends, you will rarely ever see a uniform unless there is a school sanctioned trip or a class that may be meeting for an exam or something! ALSO YES THE 90s STYLE CLOTHING IS AMAZING

something I like about my Hogwarts reality is how Hogsmeade can be visited every day if you would like to go! sometimes it can be very impractical, though, because school/clubs can get out pretty late and it is another 20-30 minute walk to the village, but many older students tend to socialize or get something to eat later in the evening. it all depends! usually that type of stuff is reserved for the weekends, though. school is very busy, but usually everyone plans their work so they can spend one day during the weekend at Hogsmeade!

no worries! there are so so many products that are advertised in the wizarding world, but most people just stick to muggle methods because plain and simple.. the cycle sucks and we do what we've gotta do! the dorm supply closet is always supplied with necessary things, and there are also potions that can be given to you in the Hospital Wing for cramps and stomach aches.

9. did you script in that there would be magazines like Seeker Weekly that you and Ginny read? i’m so excited to be a Quibbler magazine subscriber

I've always wanted to get my hands on a Seeker Weekly magazine, especially when I saw them for the first time in goblet of fire. so, I guess it was just my desires to read crazy wizarding magazines that solidified them in my weasley reality!! there are truly so many different forms of media to consume--- from books to radio channels to magazines. i'd definitely keep that in mind to explore when you shift!

I definitely have an advantage because I was that kid in high school who was making maps of Hogwarts and stuff like that! but I definitely didn't plan out the entire school and know my whole way around before I shifted. when I try and shift (especially to a new place), I sometimes create a small pinterest board and then I focus on the place I am going to wake up. I have found that that helps me not get so overwhelmed about everything! I didn't know my way around the burrow AT ALL before shifting this summer, but I watched a small video on it and tried to shift imagining what my bedroom would look like. the rest just came with memory when I shifted! you absolutely do not need to script every single detail with your DR.. I personally think that takes out the wonder of shifting and the fact that it is real life to be explored :)

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ellesthots · 3 months ago

Text

Fateful Beginnings

XXIX. “uncanny valley”

parts: previous / next

plot: you and Bruce dance around the horrors of the weekend, desperate to make things right—or, at least, better.

pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x fem!reader

cw: 18+, angst, mental health issues, descriptions of violence, descriptions of injury, grief, anxiety

words: 6.1k

prev. chapter summary (XXVIII): You go to Wayne Tower on Saturday night to talk to Alfred about ways to get Bruce help. Alfred is hopeless. Bruce intercepts, bitter at your intrusiveness, and storms off. You call Dr. Crane, who tells you to refrain from following him for fear of escalating the argument. On your walk home, you run into a panicked, horrified Bruce in an abandoned alley near his house. He does not recognize you, and after calling Alfred for him to be picked up, Bruce begs Alfred not to tell his parents about him being out so late. After a brief heartfelt (and teary) conversation with Alfred, where he expressed thanks and reassured you were not making things worse (as you thought, and still think), you went home. The next day, Bruce has no recollection of the night before, brought up to speed by Alfred. At Alfred’s urging, Bruce visits your apartment on Sunday, begging you to see his side. The argument becomes heated, and, convinced by Dr. Crane’s horrifying prognosis for Bruce and his own erratic, dangerous behavior, you do a last hail-mary to get him help: you lie about being the person who saw Bruce jump, expressing how terrified you were at thinking you’d watched him die. This immediately triggers Bruce to his childhood, and he does a hard reset on his denial, horrified he’s repeating the cycle, reassuring you he will accept help.

Outside of receiving some calls, you hadn't checked your phone since Thursday night. Texts, socials, it had all been abandoned trying to remove the noose snaking Bruce's neck. After the phone call with Alfred you were able to relax into bed and pull out your phone—immediately smacked by a bazillion texts from Mar, a few from your parents, and some mentions on Scypher. You clicked on Mar's texts first.

Thursday, 11:50pm: OMGGG just now seeing thissss i got so lit tonight. sorry!! idk if i can make it to help you move. def can't drive in the morning tho!!! ttys!!!

Friday, 1:20am: ok lolz i went to a second club 2nite and yahhh i don't think i can make it 2morrowww

Friday, 12:30pm: if ur still in town i could help, i just got a massive headache hahaha have you left yet

Friday, 1:22pm: ur prob on the road byeee

Friday, 1:30pm: wait ur still in Gotham??

Today, 12:58pm: BITCH!!!!!!!!!!!! you didn't tell me you did the interview with him!! like actually!!!!!!! okayyyy too famous to respond to me I see? i'll make sure to visit to get your autograph lol.

Today, 2:15pm: bro i got so many more friend requests already today???? some are Bruce Wayne fan accounts. wtf!!!??? this is like blowing up

Today, 6:15pm: MISSED CALL FROM MAR.

Today, 6:16pm: MISSED CALL FROM MAR.

Today, 6:18pm: LOOK !!!!

She'd attached a Buzzfeed article titled: Bruce Wayne's First Interview Came Out Today, and Our Jaws (and Clothes) are on the Floor

You couldn't read any further though, seeing as you had a handful of texts from your parents to sort through.

Friday, 1:45pm: Hey hunny! Your mother and I are home from the second shot. She told me to text you 'I am fine'. We will call you this evening after I finish up the deck.

Friday, 6:37pm: MISSED CALL FROM DAD.

Friday, 6:40pm: Deck done. When you visit next I'll show you. Walter likes it. Love you

Today, 3:13pm: MISSED CALL FROM MOM.

Today, 3:20pm: Hi kiddo. Wow! Congratulations on the article! Debbie showed it to us when she visited earlier. I thought you said you were done with that guy. Love you sweety!

You responded to your dad about your mom, and your mom about the article. You refused to comment on her mention of Bruce, wanting to purge your mind as much as you were able to after the weekend you'd had. You resigned to calling her first thing in the morning, miserable over forgetting about her second shot. After responding to Mar to update her on staying (and to express faux excitement about the article's release), you stayed up a few more minutes to see if your parents might still be awake and responsive. Sleep.

You woke up late that day, around two in the afternoon; the only reason you hadn't slept even longer was a phone call from Dr. Vry startling you awake. "Y/N! Have you seen your article? I can't believe it. Over a hundred applications just TODAY to the journalism program!"

You fought your way through the conversation, the gears in your head finally harnessing enough energy to start worrying again. The call ended quickly, as she 'had a lot of applications to get through', and you called your mom without a second glance at your phone notifications.

"Hey sweetie. I saw your text last night, but I couldn't respond. Walter was finally curled up in my lap, you know how sensitive he is." She sounded fine, neither ecstatic nor miserable. Her energy picked up when she started talking about your article. "Your dad was looking into that Wayne guy, and ran across that article of yours. He didn't know it was you that wrote it until Debbie brought it over!"

You'd padded out to your kitchen to make some toast with the butt of the bread. "Since when is dad researching things about Gotham?"

"He's been very intrigued ever since graduation. He—"

Your dad sounded off in the background. "Hun? Hey! I saw that article of yours! His first interview ever. That's a big family, you know. The Waynes. It's a big deal sweetie!"

He continued without leaving space for you to change the topic. "You know about his parents, right? God, poor kid. Seems to have recovered from it well enough."

You stifled a laugh at him delivering the most famous lore of Gotham city like it was breaking news. "Yeah, I know about his parents."

"You know, I knew I sensed something between you two. When's he coming to visit?" You heard a meow in the background, and you could only imagine your dad was munching on some sandwich he desperately wanted.

"Dad,"

"People don't give their first interviews to just anyone. Must've really impressed him."

"He's never coming over, dad."

"You don't have to be embarrassed honey. He seems like a stand-up guy! Next visit, bring him."

"It sounds like you want to meet him." You rubbed your temples, having temporarily abandoned your peanut butter spreading. You didn't know if you were right, but you could've sworn you heard him shaking his head. Walter meowed again. He definitely had some sort of food in his hand.

"What kind of dad would I be if I weren't excited to meet my daughter's boyfriend?"

The juxtaposition of the past few days to his chipper, nonchalant demeanor was stark, reducing you to a teary mess. No, you wanted to snap at him. I actually visited him in a psych ward. Had to stop his future from becoming a funeral.

"Hey, whoa now..." Your mom spoke in a hushed, frustrated tone in the background. "I'm sorry sweetie. I get it. I won't talk about him anymore."

You continued to cry, unable to get any words out. It was like you were finally able to feel the weight of what had been placed on you, feel the piercing stab of the fear it instilled. Your sobs were so pathetic and deep that your mom kept asking if you could breathe. It took much longer than you were comfortable with to even begin steadying, and when you did you knew it wouldn't last. You told them you had to get back to work, and that you'd see them in two weeks.

Vanity Fair. Vogue. People. Cosmopolitan. Us Weekly. Elle. Glamour. Seventeen. Marie Claire. Your eyes had fuzzed over as anxiety nestled into your gut. So this had been... this had been huge. 600 followers had turned into 13,000, and that was just on Scypher. Instagram had 300, now 6,500. So many mentions, so many comments, you started to panic even more. You tossed the phone across the bed and wrapped your arms around your body, rocking slowly back and forth, squeezing your arms so hard they began to ache. Flashbacks to Saturday night pulsed between your eardrums, projected on the back wall of your mind. You'd never seen someone so out of their element before. The image of him in the fetal position on the ground. The screaming. The nearly incomprehensible rattle in his voice. The stitches that bulged, the skin sloughed off his fingers. The blood. The sweat. The panic. Dread. Fear. Hysteria.

Your hands shook just the same as they fought to text Alfred. Your fingers garbled the message, but you couldn't handle another second without knowing if he was alive or dead. What if he'd taken the whole fucking bottle? What if he was on the floor of his bedroom, the last dregs of his functioning body procuring foamy spit out of his mouth for him to choke on? What if he flung himself off another building? His house was so fucking tall. So empty. So huge. So many places he wouldn't be seen, he wouldn't be found, so many places someone could hide if they needed, or wanted. What if he was strung up by his neck on a ceiling bar?

You shrieked in pain as waves of fear ravaged you. If it were real water you'd be swept under, and you wouldn't even fight it. The water would take away all your troubles, your worries, your fears. But he couldn't know that. They couldn't know what this was doing to you.

You set the phone down.

If he knew, he'd feel guilty. He couldn't feel guilty. Guilt would hurt him more. Guilt could push him over the edge.

Instead, you dialed Dr. Crane. He answered on the second ring, always so quick. "Y/N. I was about to call you. Before we get into it, why did you call?"

Anxiety lurched up into your chest, eager to overwhelm and incapacitate. "Get into what?"

Dr. Crane laughed, a discordant sound that chilled you. "To thank you. Whatever you did, it was successful. This is strictly confidential, but he is accepting treatment."

So he's alive? "I wanted to talk to you about that." You swallowed hard, yanking at a loose thread in your comforter. "I uh, he wasn't going to get help until I, until I lied."

"About what?" Dr. Crane's composure was always strictly maintained, and this time was no different. He never gave away his feelings. "I had to tell him I was the witness. I said I saw him jump."

"Oh."

That was quite possibly the worst thing he could've said.

"Well, that changes things."

"What things?"

"For one, that's a secret you must keep. Glad you clued me in." You heard a rustling of papers, a hushing of his tone. "Usually that would be unacceptable, but if we're both being honest," His candor was unsettling. "I have yet to see someone as deeply in denial as him accept treatment. I went to sleep fully anticipating waking to news of his passing." His tone was suddenly lighter, almost singsongy. "I can't say I'm disappointed in you."

You had no concept of how to respond to that. Guilt ulcerated your stomach and strangled your chest, but at least Bruce was breathing. After a silence that was too long, long enough you were surprised he hadn't yet hung up, you spoke. "Are we, are you, sure?" Words were having trouble finding you. "About the lying? I didn't see it, and what if the real witness,”

"There is nothing to be concerned about regarding the witness. Mr. Wayne has begun treatment, and will soon be stable. Incredible work."

"I—"

"You saved Bruce Wayne’s life, Y/N. It's only a shame it's a badge you can’t share." You could hear the smile in his tone, but you weren't happy. The reassurance you’d been seeking was far from assuring, leaving you situated in an uncanny valley of suspicion. How could he be so joyful? Why wasn't he drilling you about going to such lengths? Had it… had it really been that fucking hopeless? Anger boiled in you at the prospect of Dr. Crane knowingly sending you on a suicide mission. Before you burnt the bridge, you thanked him for the update and hung up. It took everything in you not to throw the phone against the wall.

The shower was scalding. You barely felt it. He must have thought he wouldn't make it. He seemed so fucking resolved to Bruce's death. Fully anticipating waking up to news of his passing? But there was 'nothing he could do'? Not a word of tangible advice besides 'don't go after him'. If I listened to him, who knows who would have found him out there! Would he have attempted again? You also wrestled with the uncomfortable reality that Dr. Crane had been correct; you had played a vital role in him accepting treatment. Had Dr. Crane psychoanalyzed you, deemed you the sort of person to lie if needed? Someone he could push to do things outside of personal liability? A sort of reverse hitman?

As you toweled off, your anxious mind continued its rumination. So he took meds. But did he take just one? Alfred will watch him, right? Hold onto his meds, only give him them as needed? Is he employing a system, making sure he checks under Bruce's tongue, locks the bathrooms, listens for retching, making sure the medication is accurately and genuinely consumed, as prescribed? You needed a break, but you couldn't find one. Sitting on the edge of your bed you knew you wouldn't be able to rest until you knew he was alive right now. And the next day. And the next day. And the next. A boulder jammed down your shoulders knowing you wouldn't be satisfied unless he personally slept on your couch so you could monitor him like a newborn. His attempt and general discontent were affecting you far more than you'd initially internalized.

Bruce sat in Alfred's study by the fireplace, staring out the window towards the grounds. Over breakfast with Alfred he took the first dose of the medication, and only a few hours later he swore he could feel the effects. He'd done some quick googling on olanzapine, and it appeared he was having a placebo effect. At minimum he'd feel effects in a few days, more likely after a week or two. He had to stop researching after that, too freaked out about having to be on antipsychotics, too much still in disbelief about how he'd done something so drastic yet had no memory of it. Alfred convinced him to stay 'home' from Batman for the rest of the week, which was an unusually easy feat considering how he hadn't taken a voluntary night off since beginning the project years ago. It broke him how upset you'd been, and he knew he wouldn't be able to see Alfred cry again. That was unbearable.

He didn't have much to do; he quickly realized he had been living only for the night. There really wasn't anything to do in the tower; no games (outside of a dusty chess board in Alfred's study), one old television (also in Alfred's study, off to an adjacent corner), no gym (he overextended himself enough as Batman), and the house was generally kempt from Dory's attentive cleaning in a house that didn't need more than dusting anyway.

Alfred told him to skip the meeting this week; Bruce initially hadn’t cared much either way, but realized that wasn't an option after misery frayed his nerves with just half a day of sitting around. In order to go in public, he needed to not be scarred and scabbed to hell; he wanted to walk the grounds, but worried about doing it in the daytime in the state he was in. Your article’s release had also prompted a patch of reporters to hang around his house, increasing his surveillance. Give an inch, they’ll take a mile. He and Alfred briefly discussed the contingency plan they kept at the ready: staged police photos of a nasty car crash on the edge of the grounds, but he couldn't share them yet—he wanted to leave you as much time as possible to soak up the success of the interview. You deserved that much, you deserved more after what he'd put you through. At least once an hour he thought about calling you, and he very nearly did a few times. He worried about you. Were you safe? Did you need anything?

On some level, he theorized focusing so much on you was a coping mechanism to escape his failing mental capacity. The more he focused on you, the less real estate his panic had. Last night had been miserable. He'd stayed awake staring at the ceiling, his mind swirling with shock and fear. He’d wondered if this is what his mom had endured, but he didn’t have the mental fortitude yet to go digging through Arkham Asylum records. He didn’t know if he ever would again, so he simply sat. Watched the clouds move along the skyline. Watched the shrubs sway in the backyard. Followed the occasional crow floating past the windows.

As soon as darkness fell he couldn't contain himself any longer. The nagging feeling of someone he traumatized being alone in it was too much. He grabbed a hoodie and walked to the elevator, sure he could make a free escape through the old subway route. His hand hesitated before pressing the button. What if you didn't want him to visit? What if it was too stressful? He couldn't keep coming over unannounced, it was weird. Not normal. Alfred had heard the metal rustling and walked into the kitchen. His brow furrowed. "I thought you were taking a break from him?"

"I am." He stared at the ground, lost in thought. "Would you call her?"

"Miss Y/N?" Alfred's voice was soft, concerned. "Sure, why?"

Bruce had conveniently kept to himself that you'd been the one to watch him jump. That you were the witness, that you'd called 911. "I want to give her an update."

Alfred pulled out his phone and Bruce walked closer, bridging the gap between them. "Ask if I could talk to her." He didn't blink until you picked up, hiding a wince at how you'd done so before the end of the first ring. You were scared. Desperate.

"Miss Y/N, I hope this isn't a bad time." Alfred paused with the phone to his ear, his expression faltering before he let out a small chuckle. It was hollow. "No, he's alright. He wanted to see if he could speak to you now."

He handed the phone to Bruce, who quickly scurried up the stairs and into his room. He only put the phone to his ear once the door was closed behind him. "Y/N?"

"Bruce." It was so nice to hear your voice when it wasn't panicked. You sounded a bit tired, breathy, but miles better than yesterday. A sigh of relief heaved out of him, to which you had a reflexive response. "Are you okay?" Your voice rose, both in volume and octave.

"Yes. Are you okay?"

"I really don't think it matters,"

He bit back a part of him that wanted to say you were the only thing that mattered. He'd broken you. "Are you?"

You sighed. "Yes. Did you uh,"

"I got the meds."

"Good. Did you take them? Or, one, or, whatever the dose,"

"Yeah." He could hear how clouded your mind was, and it was excruciating being so limited to the phone. He remembered the first week after the murder. His mind had been a hazy minefield, everything running on autopilot. The tears, his limbs, his voice, nothing had been a conscious decision for weeks. Sure, he hadn't died, but you'd thought he had. If… his parents had survived, he figured he would've been in a similar state regardless. He wanted to help you, but he didn't know how.

"How long does it take the medication to work?"

"A few days. Maybe a few weeks." After his parents died, everyone brought him food. Random strangers had brought flowers, and food, and even stuffed toys for him to cuddle with. He'd only kept one, a stuffed dinosaur, now tucked into the back of his linen closet. Alfred checked on him constantly. No longer did he have to do his chores; Dory and Alfred picked up the slack. No longer did he have to deal with hearing his mom demand he eat his veggies and sides before getting another helping of soup, he only had soup. And juice, and soda, and warm blankets fresh out of the dryer. He remembered the warmth. Of the blanket, the soup. Those, paired with the scraggly dino in his arms, were the only things that made a decimal of impact on his devastation. "Do you need anything?"

"No. Do you?"

"Do you want anything?"

"I'm good. What about you?"

He didn't believe it. You were trying to spare him, just like you had by making yourself anonymous. Would it be wrong of him to come over? This late in the evening... probably. But he remembered the nights were the worst part. Alone in the empty darkness. Less cars, less lights, even the reruns on tv were stale at that time. It left no room for distraction. And honestly, he worried if he didn't distract you from your pain, he'd be gridlocked by his.

"Can I stop by?"

Onion, celery, carrots, butter, flour, curry powder, chicken broth, an apple, rice, chicken breast, thyme, and heavy cream. He didn't know how to make much, and Alfred didn't keep much variety around, but you hadn't balked at mulligatawny the first night you'd stayed here, and it was one of the few things he knew how to make without a recipe. It was also one of the few things the old man always kept fresh and stocked, especially now that Bruce was in recovery mode. Most importantly, it was warm. It was only nine, he could get this done before ten, and be gone before midnight. Just in time for you to get tired and go to sleep, without hours spent tossing and turning alone in bed. It was the least he could do for you.

He'd never felt more ridiculous than he did when he opened your door. The backpack was heavy and a reminder that he hadn't asked if he could cook, but assumed he would waltz into your kitchen and work some magic. You invited him in and he went straight to the island, setting down his pack and taking out the supplies. Your face scrunched with confusion. "What are you doing?"

He kept taking out food while he thought of how to phrase it. It was like his mind was slowed down, your apartment a pool of tv static. "I wanted to cook." Pause. "For you." Another pause, and he took out the apple. "It's warm." Fuck, could he have explained it any worse?

He paused and you watched him slowly move to meet your eyes. "Can I?" His hand was hovering above one of the drawers, ready to get to work. "Sure." You didn't understand why he couldn't cook at his house, but you couldn’t complain; still coming down from the nauseating blend of relief and guilt that gnawed at you when you finally saw him in the flesh. Like being attacked by a wave on a hot day; soothing, but bitterly cold at the same time.

You had reassembled the chairs today, and the table. You'd anticipated calling Mar later tonight if she weren’t already at a club, offering to order some takeout and have a movie night. When thinking up a distraction, you certainly hadn't anticipated Chef Bruce appearing with fixings for a mystery meal. Did billionaires even know how to cook? Did billionaire Bruce Wayne ever have to fend for himself in the kitchen? A brief image of him staring confusedly at a box of cereal made your mouth twitch into a grin.

Good. Your humor was still there, thank god. With his back turned to you, facing the burner, you could finally, finally, finally, finally unclench your jaw and drop your shoulders. He was here. It was weird, and uncomfortable, but undeniable. He was here, not hanging from a rafter or god knows where doing god knows what in the city. He was putting butter in a pan, and grabbing a wooden spoon. He was alive.

But... this was still out of character, which raised an orange flag. You waited for him to reach an impasse before speaking, tapping his fingers on the countertop while he watched the rice cook. An apple sat cubed to the left, the chicken sizzling on the back burner. "How are you? Really?"

Bruce needed to toe the line. Too honest and it would shift the focus to him, further distressing you; too dishonest and you'd dismiss it before he finished speaking. His body didn't just ache, it screamed at him. Every step, even every time he spoke, felt like torture. He'd teared up at multiple points between the lobby and your unit. His spirit was entirely crushed, shattered into irredeemable smithereens. He hung his head and let all the air out of his lungs, letting his weight fall into his wrists as he leaned over the stove. "Not great."

It should've pained you to hear that, instead it felt like wind in your sails. He was being honest. You could work with that. Honesty didn't need to be interrogated or sleuthed upon. "How can I help?"

He wanted to say you've done enough and don't want your pity, but it felt too real. You didn't need that tonight, not so close to the event. "Taste the soup and tell me if it needs anything." He prayed you wouldn’t keep asking.

"How would I know?"

"I want it to suit your taste."

"I don't know what it's supposed to taste like." You were hyperaware he hadn't answered you, not in the way you wanted. Maybe it was too close for comfort right now. Maybe all you needed to do was focus on him being here, and ask questions later.

"Pepper, curry flavor. Creamy." He stirred something fragrant on the stovetop.

"What's the apple doing?"

"It's necessary." It felt good talking about something else with you. Something normal. Not Batman, not his legacy, not the attempt. Still, all of it clouded and constricted the conversation, a constant tension you both wittingly ignored. "Smooths the spice."

I barely tasted it that night. Too scary being trapped in the house of one of the most powerful men in the world. You watched as he stirred, chopped, and fluffed. You were brought back home with your parents, watching them make dinner while you sat at the dining table and talked at them. He glanced around and looked at the can of heavy cream. In an instant you were up and grabbing a can opener, desperate to do your part. He instructed you to pour it into the pan, and for a half second he was just another guy; an acquaintance, someone passing through; someone regular, unassuming.

After a few more minutes of sitting around, you grabbed some bowls and spoons. After a quick taste he required you take ("Need to know if I missed something"), he ladled the bowls full, and you both walked slowly, carefully over to the table to set down the steaming soup. Bruce dug in without waiting, while you blowed on a single spoonful until every bit of steam hesitated to rise from it.

He watched you apprehensively. Your eyes widened a bit, and he could see your jaw moving like you were savoring it. "How is it?" It tasted fairly similar to how Alfred made it, which was fairly similar to how his mom had made it. At the very least he hadn't royally fucked up. Who knows, maybe olanzapine changes tastebuds.

You nodded, blowing on another bite. "Mulling it over."

God, that was so droll... it tugged a whispering grin to his lips, his bite slipping back into the bowl at the gentle movement of his dry chuckle.

He was laughing. Not really. Kind of. Weird, but yay! "I've never tasted anything like it. It's good."

"Don't have to placate me."

"It's peppery. Curry. Creamy."

He rolled his eyes and tossed another spoonful into his mouth. "Creative. What's the apple for?"

The tension never left, though you both did your best to selfishly soothe it through dry humor. The most either of you did was grin, breathe a little extra air through your nose. When he wasn't looking your eyes wandered to his purple and green bruises, and the complementary crusting scabs along his neck and hands. You wondered if he was suicidal right now, but wasn't saying anything. When you weren't looking, he studied your body language, hoping it would betray you. Were you scared right now? Did you think this was the weirdest thing ever, like he did? Did you think this was creepy? Was it creepy? Was it helping? Was he helping you?

You both finished and walked your bowls to the sink. He started rinsing them and reached for the dish soap, and you let him for a little. After he pat dry the first bowl, you couldn't sit with this worry on your chest any longer. The food had been warm and energizing, the mood made less intimidating with the joking, and all of it together held your hand as you broached the topic. It made you sick how concerned he was about your wellbeing; yes, he scared you, images of his frenzied, panicked face waking you up in the dead of night, but you hadn't watched him nearly die like he thought. His worry felt like rain on a hundred degree day: unsettling and unwelcome. You inhaled fully, hoping enough oxygen would get to some brave neurons and force the words past your teeth. They caught in your chest and by then he'd finished the second bowl; anxiety palpated your heart, bullying it into silence. You overrode it. "Bruce."

At once he abandoned the silverware and turned toward you. His analytical gaze peppered your face and the fingers that annihilated your cuticles. The stench of something burning singed your nostrils, your eyes tracking the source to the hem of his sweatshirt draped over the hot stove, smoking as small flames burnt through the cotton. Perhaps waiting to be seen, it erupted into a blazing ball of flame. You yelped and jumped toward the sink, grabbing the adjustable faucet and spraying him down. The flames went out, he turned off the burner, and you looked around for some magazines or papers to fan away the tendrils of smoke wafting toward the fire alarm.

"Sorry. I wasn't thinking."

You glanced back and saw Bruce sopping wet, his hair having gotten in the mix too, draped over his eyes; the singed, ripped edges of his shirt that he clutched between his hands. You bit your lip to reign in your laugh. He started hurrying the shirt off his back, and gently shook it out to see if it had juice left in it. That was the kicker, sending you bolting toward your bedroom. You couldn't be laughing at him all the time. Get it together! He's hurting! But the laughs escaped your tight-lipped prison, and soon his shadow was in the doorway. As quickly as you'd laughed, you began to cry. You dropped to your knees at the whiplash; what once was dead, was now making soup in your apartment. Dancing around it wasn't helping, it was exacerbating the pain. He didn't hesitate to walk over, his long legs getting him across the room in only a few strides.

He didn't think you were crying about the fire. He stood helplessly beside you, unable to make a decision on what to do next. Guilt bloomed angry, self-flagellating thoughts, wishing he hadn't ran with his ego and coddled his denial. He placed a light touch to your shoulder and you jumped up. "I'm fine." He didn't say anything, only sat and watched as you struggled to reign in your barrage of tears. Your fingers threatened to go numb, and you attempted to shake the tingles away. "My body just needs to cry and then, then I'm done." You turned away from him and pressed your clammy palms to your cheeks, trying to physically shove the tears back into hiding.

After what seemed like an extended period of sniffling tears, you looked back at him. He was sat on the edge of your bed, his sweatshirt draped over his forearm. You could see more of the deeper wounds on his arms now, which was a viscerally surreal feeling. It was impossible not to be aware of his reputation; it preceded him at every turn, he was correct about that. Something entirely new though was seeing the fallibility so transparently.

Before graduation—and honestly, before seeing him breaking down in the alley—you had practically thought he was immortal. You wouldn't have done such ridiculous, dangerous bullshit as walking through an active crime scene at night if you hadn't internalized his heroism. Until this moment you hadn't realized how much you'd relied on that story; the subconscious reassurance that the Batman provided to Gotham's citizens. The mythical creature unfazed by bullets, incapacitating anyone in its wake. Batman's neutralizing force was so accepted it went unquestioned; now you knew it was because no one truly knew him. You and Alfred were the only people who had. Suddenly, the world felt a lot more intimidating. If you were any less shaken up, you might've laughed at the unmasking of Santa; but even children mourned the loss of magic, and here you were muzzling yourself.

"Can I help?"

You needed to nip this in the bud. It was going to come out however it was going to come out, and you needed to be okay with that. "I, appreciate the effort." It wasn't coming out so easily. Be nice. Be nice. Be nice. "But I want this to stop." I didn't watch you. "You don't want my pity, and I don't want yours." Too harsh, scale back. "The only thing I need is for you to be safe. Alive."

You sounded so much like Alfred that Bruce bit back a snarky retort. Not the time nor the place. Your bed creaked as he stood up. He hated how your words sat in his chest, but there wasn't exactly anything he could do about it. "Okay."

No argument, no fighting. Like you requested something he already vowed to do. He walked past you into the kitchen, and you followed on his heel. You had never been so close to him alone, and never from behind. His back was broad, making his already impressive height even more menacing. Veins bulged under his skin. Swore a tendon twitched in his forearm every time he stepped on his left foot. If he had turned for the door you might have yelped, but he just finished the dishes in silence while you lingered, then sat on the couch. If someone walked in right now, and was one of the few humans who didn't know about Bruce Wayne, they might think this looked normal. It couldn't feel more foreign.

You didn't wait half a second after the sink turned off to fill the space. From your perch on the end of the couch, across the room. "Will you be safe once you leave?"

Like a knife scraping under his fingernails. So scared he wouldn't be alive the next morning. Skittish. "Yes." He wasn't looking back at you, wishing he hadn't already put down the dish towel so he'd have something to wring. "I promise."

What good's a promise if he's six feet under? Your life had become so singular so quickly, and you were anxious for it to get back to its usual painful mediocrity. "Really?"

Ugh. He turned to face you and followed your eyes searching the carpet. He sighed away his animosity, knowing the rage seeping into his chest was directed at himself; it was nothing greater than embellished fear. He knew this, was well acquainted with it. Maybe he did need to go back to therapy. He leaned his hip against the counter and winced, jamming straight into a blackened, split bruise. He grabbed his hoodie from where it was slung across the edge of the counter, grimacing at the effort only when his face was obscured. “Really.” Within seconds he was at the door, his hand on the handle. He noticed your eyes flash in his periphery, and his entire body constricted at the sight. He forced himself to meet your eyes. It was strenuous. He figured he needed to warn you. "Alfred and I have emergency plans for times like these. Whatever you read in the news, it's a cover-up." He popped open the door, hesitating on the departure. The air was thick with emotional exhaust. "I'll see you on Thursday?"

You nodded, relieved he was being more covert with his concern. Sugaring the medicine. "See you on Thursday."

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kitashousewife · 2 years ago

Text

rooftops

an: i just got hit with this little idea idk what's going on lmao but i was inspired by rooftops by surfaces!

pairings: timeskip!tsukishima x fem!reader

warnings: anxiety, childhood friends to lovers, food/drink and eating mentions, he is a mommas boy i decided

tsukishima huffs as soon as he hangs up the call, resisting the urge to throw his phone onto the breakroom chair. another apartment rejection, making that the fourth one this week. his fingers rub his eyes beneath his glasses as he accepts defeat once and for all.

after his shift today, he will be driving himself and his many boxes of belongings in his car back to his childhood home. for how long? he's not sure.

that's the worst part, in his opinion.

the lease was up for the apartment that he shared with yamaguchi. sure, he could've renewed and stayed for another year. but he just needed a change. for the last few weeks, the two boys had spent every evening researching different apartments closer to their jobs without any luck. any place that did have availability was conveniently snatched up before they could press send on the application.

kei drives home that afternoon with a weird feeling in his stomach. a mix between nostalgia and disappointment that only gets stronger as he drives into town. the late spring brought blooming trees and swaying flowers, welcoming him back home again. when he pulls into the driveway, though, he feels tired.

besides his housing search, he recently lost out on a great promotion at work. he wasn't too torn up about it until he learned that it was because he was too committed to volleyball. yet another time when his interests and reality butted heads. he's been having some tougher practices lately, exhausting his body as well as his mind.

"hi mom," he mumbles, ducking his head as he opens his car door. "i'm sorry about all of this. i'll be out as soon as i can."

his mom only smiles, reaching in to grab a couple of his boxes.

"you can stay as long as you would like. besides, how lucky am i to have my son home again?" she kisses his cheek while he bends down to grab a few things, and he shakes his head despite the smile tugging at his lips.

"what happened with this last place?" she asks, setting the boxes down in his childhood room, dusting her hands off.

"who knows. they called me during my break but they didn't give a reason," kei sighs. the weird feeling bubbles in his stomach once more as he takes in his old room. "at this point i think they have it out for tadashi and i."

"maybe it just isn't meant to be!" his mom says over her shoulder as they go downstairs for the last few things. kei rolls his eyes at that. ever the optimist, his mom.

"how is she?"

he shuts the door to his car and rolls his eyes once more, but this time his mom just laughs.

"she's fine. still working, i suppose."

as soon as the two of you started dating, kei tried his best to keep his mom in the dark in hopes of avoiding her teasing. it didn't work, of course, she found out the day of from your own mom.

the one downside of being childhood friends.

it had only been a few weeks, navigating the now romantic side of your relationship, but everything felt right. it felt safe.

"you should have her over tonight! i would love to see her."

"i'm sure you would," kei says from behind his water glass. "she's probably tired, though. maybe this weekend."

his mom blinks at him from across the kitchen counter.

"what."

"you haven't told her."

he throws his head back. "no, mom, i haven't. what am i supposed to say? oh by the way i moved back in with my mom?" when he sits upright, he's met with a bowl of pork and rice.

"kei, you're being ridiculous. for one, you guys have known each other for what, fifteen years?"

"seventeen."

"fine, seventeen years. she's probably been here more times than you could count. plus, you and i both know she wouldn't say anything. she loves you no matter what."

as he chews, he thinks that his mom is probably right. but what if she isn't? besides, what woman wants to be with someone that still lives with their mom?

"i think i'm going to unpack. thanks for the food mom."

he trudges up the stairs, looking at the photos that line the walls. framed school portraits, other small photos like the one of him and akiteru in the backyard with superhero capes, and of course the framed photo of you and kei at the school dance your third year. when he gets into his room, he flops onto his bed the same way he did a few years before. he lifts his head to look out the window and smiles.

are you off work? i'm at my moms if you want to stop by.

he stares at the ceiling for a few minutes, contemplating unpacking when you text back.

i would love to :)

you got off work around 5, stopping at your place to change when kei texted you. your apartment is only a short walk from your old neighborhood, so you decided to enjoy the nice weather and walk over.

while you walked, you thought about how far the two of you had come. growing up in the same neighborhood with moms who became best friends meant you spent a lot of time with kei and akiteru. running through the sprinkler while your moms gossiped over lemonade, trick or treating with tadashi, and of course birthday parties. your friendship continued through school and college, late nights sprawled out on the couch while tadashi and kei held smash tournaments, sunday afternoons studying at your kitchen tables, and of course volleyball games.

you laugh to yourself, thinking about how your teenage self would react to hearing that the two of you are now dating, not just friends but something much more. magical and comfortable all at the same time.

"hey."

you look around the front of the tsukishima home, but your boyfriend is nowhere to be found.

"up here."

"kei? what the heck are you doing?"

sitting on the flat part of the roof beneath his bedroom window, your boyfriend leans back on his elbows. sitting in the same spot the two of you have sat hundreds of times before.

"what took you so long? that snail at the end of the driveway made it three laps around by the time you got here."

"i walked. what are you doing up there?"

he smirks. "come up and find out. mom knows you're coming."

you walk in through the front door, greeted by his mom before running up the stairs and to the right.

"what's the surprise?" you climb out of his window, grabbing his hand that he offers you before sitting down.

"nothing. just wanted to sit up here. the sun should be setting in a bit."

you hum. "what's brought you to your moms?"

kei doesn't say anything, but he grabs his hand in yours. his lack of response makes you raise an eyebrow.

"kei?"

he sighs. "i moved back in," his voice is quiet and mumbled, but he stares straight ahead. the sunset light making his freckles stand out on his cheeks. you're sure his eyes are bright and golden, but he wont look at you.

"well, you'll be closer to me," you nudge his side and he snorts, still looking forward. "but that's okay. wanna talk about it?"

"there's not much to say," he turns to you now. you can tell he's embarrassed. his cheeks are a little pink, matching the tips of his ears. he lets out a tired sigh. "our lease was up, but every single place we applied to has turned us down. we had to be out of there so i came home," like a child dies on his tongue. you're playing with his fingers in your lap.

"and tadashi?"

kei smiles. you can't help but wonder about your friend. you've always been this way, worrying about everyone else first.

"he's staying at his parents as well."

he feels extremely relaxed, every nervous feeling dissipating as the sun sets. his mom was right, but he'll never tell her that.

"how long are you staying?"

his fingers take his glasses in hand, twirling them for a second before turning to you. a sight you don't see as often as you'd like.

"until i find somewhere to stay is my guess. a week, maybe more. i just hate this," he covers his eyes, now laying back fully against the shingles of the roof. "seriously embarrassing."

"says who?"

he peeks at you through his fingers. "everyone."

you stare ahead towards the sunset again. your thoughts go back and forth for a minute or so, both of you sitting in silence. the scary thing about your relationship is the same as the best thing: your history. it's amazing because you know each other so well, you've been a part of each other's accomplishments and experiences. but at the same time, one wrong move and that could all go away, turning into only memories.

"i don't think it's embarrassing. you have a mother who loves you and welcomes you home. plus, at least your mom didn't turn your room into storage like mine," you deride, earning a smirk and a snort from your boyfriend. "but if it's that big of a deal to you, why don't you just move in with me?"

you stop, mouth shutting quickly to stop any other words from flying out. your face heats up and you stare ahead, refusing to see the reaction from the man laying beside you.

he's just as shocked as you. he looks up at the pink sky for a few seconds.

"o-okay."

"what?"

he sits up slowly, leaning back on his elbows once more, before slipping on his glasses. he turns to you with a small smile.

"i mean, why not. unless you didn't mean it,"

your eyes go wide. "no, i mean it! i mean, why not. i have the space, it's just me and i have an extra room you could use as an office. plus i already have a bed, and-"

"you're messy though."

you scoff. "i am not!"

he smirks, pulling you closer to lean into his chest. "i should move in so keep an eye on you. keep you from staying up too late. besides, i'm a great roommate. you would be lucky to have me."

you laugh. "i am lucky to have you, you're right."

kei stutters for a moment, before relaxing again. he's still not used to your compliments and flirting, but he can't get enough. he squeezes you a little tighter, kissing the top of your head.

"when can i move in?"

"monday? that way you can spend the weekend with your mom?"

he hums. "i like that plan."

the two of you sit on the roof for a while longer, watching the rest of the sunset in peace. kei feels happier, so excited to finally have somewhere to call home. he's actually thought about this for a while, coming home to you after a long day, going to bed with you and waking up to do it all again. being there for you when you’re sad, no longer relying on facetime or a quick call.

but for now he will enjoy the weekend, pretending to be young again.

he won’t admit it, but he’s also glad to live so close to home. but he can’t let his mom hear that.

#tsukishima x reader #tsukishima x you #tsukishima kei #tsukishima kei x you #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima fluff #tsukki fluff #haikyuu fluff #hq fluff

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sluts4matt · 7 months ago

Text

SECRET (part three)

pairing: nate doe x sls!erika sturniolo

summary: she had hidden her feelings away for years, but with growing up and toxic relationships it was all starting to resurface.

warnings: none

word count: 1283

authors note: i'm sorry updates for this are so slow. edit: sorry for not posting this last night my little brother was in need of cuddles to sleep.

view my master list here

the past two weeks had been agonizing. i wasn't allowed to hang out with nate for a month. yet here he was, sitting in the living room after school playing play station with the boys.

i rubbed my hands over my face, sighing as i walked down the stairs towards the kitchen. "hey erika," nate greeted, causing me to smile. "hey nate," i say, getting a juice from the fridge.

"where's mom?" i ask.

"garage maybe?" nick said, looking away from his phone for a split second to look at me. "thanks," i say, shooting him air guns.

"mom!" i call, walking towards the garage. "mooooom!"

"what erika?" my mom says, poking her head out from behind the garage door.

"can kayla come over?" i ask, looking at her with pleading eyes. she sighs and shrugs her shoulders. "yes! thank you!" i exclaim, smiling widely. "thank you thank you!"

i run over and kiss her cheek, making her laugh. "open doors," marylou states with pointed fingers, "open doors." i roll my eyes and smile at her, nodding.

i pull my phone out of my pocket and dial kayla's number. "hello?"

"my mom said you can come over," i say excitedly. "be there in five," the girl on the other side giggles.

"she's gonna be here in five!" i yell, walking up the stairs. i get no response from any of the guys, and sigh, knowing they can't hear me over their own voices.

i go into my room and change into a new shirt, tossing my previous one into the hamper. i sit at my desk and wait for kayla, "i'm here!" a voice exclaims, making me turn to the doorway.

"she's here," i repeat, giving her a hug. "what first? gossip about sydney?" she asks, i roll my eyes at the mention of one of the girls we hated the most. the only true reason being she was rude as hell.

"no," i say, sitting back down, "how are things going with you and jay?" she groans and plops onto my bed, her eyes closed.

"not well," she groans. i give her a questioning look and she sits up. "i'm pretty sure he has a thing for someone else," she huffs, her hands moving wildly around her face.

"no," i deadpan, "what? no way. i thought he really liked you?"

"that's what i thought," she sighs, looking up.

"i'm so sorry kay," i whisper, hugging her again.

"it's fine," she laughs, her mood changing. "so, let's talk about you," she smirks. "not much there," i say, not mentioning anything about nate.

"sure," she chuckles. "oh, did you hear about the party at liz's house?" she asks, her eyes wide with excitement.

"liz? party? you've got to be kidding," i scoff, laughing a bit. "my mom would never let me go, especially not right after i just got busted for smoking and drinking," i tell her.

"that's why sneaking out is a fun thing to do," she says and i shake my head. "did it once, do it twice it becomes a habit," i state.

"oh come on," she whines.

"kay, if i get caught, i'm done," i stress. "fine," she pouts, crossing her arms over her chest.

"you can go," i say, her eyes lighting up, "but i can't, kay." she smiles and hugs me. "thanks eri," she says, standing up. "i'll see you at school," she says, walking out of the door.

"bye!"

a few days later, it was the weekend, and i was bored. the boys were on a trip to california and kayla was sick. i sighed as i watched the tv hung on my wall, changing the show every so often.

knocks sounded from my door, causing me to turn my head. "it open," i call. the door opens, showing my mom's face as she peaks her head in.

"i'm going shopping, need anything?" she asks, i shake my head and she shuts the door. a few moments later i hear her car leaving and the sound of the garage shutting.

i walk downstairs and check the time on my phone. 10:49 in big white letters, i groan, tugging at my brown roots.

"i should dye my hair," i say to myself, pulling my phone back out to google ideas.

after 30 minutes, i had a few good ones, i instacarted black and red hair dye to the house, as well as hair bleach and began the process.

i grabbed bowels, going to the bathroom where i set out old and stained towels.

i took a deep breath, looking at myself in the mirror. "don't fuck up," i mumble to myself. i wet my hair, then began adding the bleach after mixing the toner and developer together.

as i applied the bleach, i foiled the strands. when i finished i set a timer for thirty minutes as i waited for the bleach to do its job.

after the timer went off, i rinsed my hair, the water running a gross, pale-yellow color down the drain. i washed my hair with purple shampoo to tone it, drying my hair some with a towel before parting it down the middle of my head.

i opened the red dye first, squeezing the contents of the tube out. i sectioned the hair on the left side and began adding the dye.

i repeated the steps until the whole left side of my head was covered in the red dye.

i repeated the steps with the black, waiting an hour for it to develop on my head before i rinse.

after i rinsed, i wrapped a towel around my head, blow-drying my hair and brushing through it. when i pulled the towel off, i smiled, running my fingers through the soft, now black and red strands.

i took a snap sending it the kayla, with the text 'thoughts??'.

'omg!'

'you look hot!'

'so much better than that boring brown'

i smiled at her texts, feeling a little more confident with my appearance. i put stuff away, throwing the empty tubes of dye in the trash and washing the bowels that held the contents.

i ran upstairs, grabbing my phone and flopping on my bed. i scrolled through tiktok, stopping to watch videos every now and then.

as i was about to fall asleep, my phone rang, making me jump. my mom's name popping up on my phone, the options accept or decline flashing.

"yeah?" i say, answering the phone. "be there in five, i need help carrying in groceries," she says. "ok," i reply, getting off of the bed as the phone goes dead.

i slip on some shoes and walk outside, the cold breeze blowing against my warm skin. i see my mom's car pulling up, before it pulls into the driveway. "you changed your hair," she states, getting out.

the trunk pops open, revealing the back loaded with grocery bags. "i was bored, do you like it?" you ask. she runs her fingers through it, squinting slightly due to the sun.

"looks good on you sweetheart," she says, smiling.

we make multiple trips, bringing in bags as fast as we can. "how was shopping?" i ask, helping her put the stuff away. "fine," she breathes, putting canned foods on a shelf.

"you have work later?" she asks, and i nod my head, "six o'clock sharp." she nods her head, "when's dad getting off work?" i ask, "four," she replies, checking the time.

"what's for dinner?" i ask, closing the fridge and grabbing my phone. "probably spaghetti," she says, "can you help set the table when it's time?"

i nod my head, "yep," i say and then go back upstairs.

tag list:

@hysteria-things @tillies33ssss @soimightlikeoldmen69 @sturniolossss @freshsturns @etvar12 @sstvrnioloo @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloa @chrryclouds @sturniolhoe @sturniolowhore @imwetforyourmom @novasturniolo03 @spencerstits @junovrsmp4 @breeloveschris @skyslondon @stars4chratt @monkeyscientist22 @sophssturn @hearts4chriss @l5ka @sturnlovr @blahbel668 @sturncakez @livvy4realll @raysmayhem-72 @jnkvivi @mssturniolo

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albertasunrise · 2 years ago

Text

Oops Baby - One too Many

Masterlist

Summary: Being best friends with Frankie meant movie nights, drinks with the guys and a shoulder to cry on when you got your hear broken. He is head over heels for you but you don’t feel the same… yet a drunken mistake will tie your lives together forever!

Relationships: Frankie Morales x Reader

Warnings: Like AO3 I choose to give none. Read at own risk. 18+ (I am so excited to share this with you. Came up with this idea ages ago, just wasn't sure who to use. Was between Frankie and Marcus Pike... Though our cutie Fish would work best though. Hope you enjoy ♥️)

Series Masterlist -

"What's wrong with me Frankie?" You grumbled as you downed the last of your drink and motioned at the barman to get you another "I mean... Do I have cheat on me written across my forehead?"

"Nothing's wrong with you." He gave you a reassuring nudge and a sweet smile "The guy was just a fucking idiot and couldn't see how good he had it."

"You have to say that." You scoff "You're my best friend."

"No, I mean it." Fish pouted, his eyes growing sad "If I was with you I'd never let you go." His whole body went rigid at his confession and so did yours.

In all the many years you had known each other, Frankie had managed to keep his feelings for you buried. He had watched as you went from relationship to relationship. All of them ended the same way. You cried into his t-shirt as he fed you beers to try and numb the pain.

He coughed in an attempt to dispel the awkward silence that had now settled over you both. His left hand fidgeted in his lap as he grabbed his beer and drained the remainder of it in one large gulp.

"Another!" He said as he motioned at the bartender "Never trusted him you know." He stated as he returned his attention to you.

"No?" You question, your eyebrow quirking at his statement.

"Nah... Guys with eyebrows that well maintained are either cheats or gay." he stated plainly and you spat your beer over the bar "Woah... Mind the shirt."

"Sorry." You choke out as you bash your chest to dry and clear the beer in your throat "You can't say shit like that Francisco."

"What?... It's true."

"No I mean you can't say shit like that whilst I'm taking a sip of my drink!" You chuckled "You nearly killed me."

"You're smiling though, are you?"

"That I am." You agreed, giving him a sweet smile before supping at your beer again.

The two of you moved on to other subjects then. How Will had finally bitten the bullet and created an online dating profile. How Ben was smashing his fights and how Santi was expecting a baby with his wife in Australia.

"Talking of parents... How are mels?" You asked and his expression grew a little sadder at the mention of his, somewhat recently, deceased wife.

"They're doing okay." He replied with a nod "Taking each day as it comes. No parent expects to bury their kid..."

"I bet!" You sighed as you leaned into him and rest your head on his shoulder "I don't know about you... But I think we need more drinks!"

"You going to be okay to get home if you drink much more?"

Ahh sweet Frankie... always the worrier.

"I'll work it out Fishsticks."

"Please don't call me that." He groaned, throwing his head back dramatically before fumbling to catch his hat that had slipped off his head "You can crash at mine if you like?" He propositioned "Seeing as I have the house to myself for the weekend."

"Sounds good." You grinned, perking up immediately "Bartender! More beer please."

...

You weren't sure how you'd got here. One moment you were drinking with Frankie in the bar and the next you were pinned against his front door as he painted your flesh with kisses. His hat and shirt were long discarded and you revelled at his form. Strong arms, broad shoulders and a tiny waist. His tummy was a little softer but you found it endearing and you found your mouth watering as you unfastened his jeans and pushed them, along with his underwear, down his hips.

Then, in what felt like the blink of an eye, Francisco Morales... Your best friend of six years... Was naked as the day he was born in front of you. Normally this is where you would start to panic. Yet, you found yourself so wrapped up in the feel of him that you didn’t have time to. You were dragged back to the present when Fish plunged two thick fingers into your heat, pulling a filthy moan from you and you grabbed his biceps firmly as you threw your head back in pleasure.

"What me to fuck you right here or in my bed?" He purred in your ear and you clenched around his digits.

"Start here... Bed later..." Was all you could pant out before you were grabbing his length and stroked it as he roughly fucked you with his fingers "Fuck Frankie... I need you now."

"Mmmmm." He hummed as he grabbed your thighs and lifted you, wrapping them around his waist.

Your arms instinctively looped around his shoulders as he pushed you against the wall beside his front door, mewling as he drove into you in one deep thrust. He was easily the biggest you'd ever had. Filling you so deliciously that you knew after tonight, he was going to ruin all other men for you.

"Fuck you feel incredible." He growled as he pushed into you, finding your sweet spot almost instantly "Just like I imagined."

This statement would, in any other situation, have given you pause but right now as he continued to fuck up into you with a precision you'd not expected from him, you paid it no heed. He was literally fucking you dumb. Pleasuring every thought out of your head except for one.

A revelation that had taken you by surprise.

You sweet, quiet, reserved Francisco had a filthy mouth... And you loved it. You soaked it up. Revelled in his praise and bathed in the warmth that filled you. He was quick to tip you over the edge. Something guys often failed to do without some stimulation but not Frankie... Not he was able to make you cum with just his length and his mouth.

"That's it, baby." He purred when he felt you peak "Cum for me beautiful."

He fucked you through your high, attacking your neck with kisses and nips as he then went about chasing his own. He fucked you like his life depended on it. Focusing his thrusts so that he could wring every last ounce of pleasure from you before he fell.

"Frankie I'm... I'm..."

"I know baby." He cooed "Me too."

"I'm cumming." You sobbed as he pushed you over the edge one last time but this time you pulled him right along with you.

He collapsed against you, panting as he desperately tried to keep himself from collapsing to the ground. You were now a limp mess in his arms, panting and grinning like a fool as you smiled at him.

"Let's get to bed." Fish managed to say after a short pause "I wanna taste you sweetheart." He stated before pushing away from the wall and carrying you down the hall to his room.

It was going to be a long night.

...

Your brain was pounding.

You groaned as you rolled over to grab your phone, only to find it wasn't there. Two Tylenol and a glass of water, however, were waiting for you. Taking the tablets you threw them in your mouth before downing the water, practically groaning in relief. You then started to study your surroundings and realised that you weren't in your bed.

You were in Frankie's.

"What the hell;?" You questioned as you started to push yourself up and then you realised that you were naked.

Completely naked.

Your heart started to race then. Your mind reeled as you tried to remember what happened last night. You had gone for drinks with Frankie after learning your boyfriend of two years had cheated on you. Then things got a little blurry. You tried to focus... Things come back to you in flashes but then you remembered what you had done.

You had fucked Frankie.

"Shit." You groaned as you scraped a hand over your face "Shit, shit, shit!!"

You grabbed one of his shirts from the wardrobe and headed down the hall, the smell of bacon pulling you into the kitchen where Frankie was standing in just some shorts. His hair was a curly mess. His neck was littered with the evidence of what you two had done last night.

Catching movement from the corner of his eye, Frank looked up to see you gingerly walking in in one of his shirts and his mouth went dry at the sight. He smiled sweetly at you as he pushed the bacon off the heat and went to pour you a mug of coffee.

"How you feeling?" He asked as he grabbed the milk and poured it into your mug, nodding when he was satisfied with the colour of your drink.

"Sore." You groaned, nodding your thanks when he handed you the drink he'd made you.

"Mmmmm." He hummed as he smirked at you, the twinkle in his eye making your stomach twist "The good kind of sore or..."

"Frankie-"

"Last night was amazing." He purred as he wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you close "Wanted this for so long."

"Frankie I-"

"Felt too good to tell you how I felt. I've hated watching you with all those other guys."

Your mind was suddenly assaulted with memories. His smile as he told you his deepest secret.

The night before...

"I need to find someone like you Fish." You sighed as you sipped at your beer "Someone sweet and kind that will treat me right."

"What if I could be that someone?" He asked and you perked up, looking at him in confusion.

'What?"

"What if I could be that guy for you?" He repeated, his eyes doing that puppy-dog thing that you found impossible to resist.

You don't know what came over you but as you looked at him. All dark eyes and sweetness. You decided to kiss him. He didn't respond straight away and you panicked for just a second before he was returning it, his hand threading through the hair at the base of your neck as he deepened it.

"Wanna get out of here?" You suggested and he nodded.

"Fuck yes." He practically panted.

The walk back to his place wasn't a quick one. Any opportunity he had, he'd stop you so that he could kiss you. Unable to get enough of you.

"Fuck... I have wanted this for so long." He panted between kisses "Wanted you for so long." Another firm kiss had your knees going weak "I love you..." He whispered against your lips as he rested his brow on yours.

You should have stopped it there. You should have told him that you didn't feel the same... But you just couldn't bring yourself to do it. Your body wanted him too much and you were a slave to your desires.

So you didn't say anything.

You just followed him home.

...

You were pulled from the memory by Frankie calling your name.

"Baby you okay?" He asked as he looked down at him in concern, brows pulled together.

"Frankie I... Shit, I don't know how to tell you this." You sighed as you pushed him back "Last night was a mistake."

"What?" He all but squeaked and you felt like the worst person in the world.

"It shouldn’t have happened." You sighed as you ran your free hand through your hair "I was in a bad place and I shouldn't have kissed you. We were both super drunk and it... It was a mistake."

"I told you I love you." Frankie growled, his voice taking on a tone you'd not heard from him before "I confessed to you how I've been feeling all these years and you slept with me."

"I know, but Frankie I-"

"No... You don't know." He interrupted as he turned his back to and gripped the stone countertop in front of him "I have been in love with you for years... probably since the day I met you. I told you last night that I wanted to be the guy you wanted and you kissed me... You led me to believe that you wanted the same thing."

"Frankie I'm sorry I hurt you but-"

"I think you should leave."

"What?"

"Get your shit and leave." He growled and you sobbed.

"Okay." You choked out before putting down your mug and making your way into his lounge.

Your clothes were strewn all over the place. Evidence of what you two had done all over his home. Changing back into the clothes you wore the night before you walked back into the kitchen to find Frankie sitting at the breakfast bar, staring at the new mug of coffee in his hands.

"Frankie I... I'm sorry." You sobbed "I never meant to hurt you I just-"

"Please go."

You nodded. Choking out a barely audible "Okay." Before walking to his front door and leaving. You knew this was your fault. You saw an opportunity to bury your sorrows and you took it. But at the expense of your best friend.

You had royally ruined everything.

...

2 months later...

You hadn't spoken to Frankie since that night.

You had called and texted but he had chosen to ignore your attempts to contact him. If you were being honest, you didn't blame him. You had taken advantage of his feelings for you. You had secretly known for a while that he had feelings for you and a part of you had tried so hard to feel something back but you couldn't. You didn't get why though.

He's hot. Kind. Funny.

He's the whole package and yet you still kept falling for men you knew would wind up hurting you. They were all the same. You knew going into each and every relationship that it would end with your heart broken and yet you kept dating them. You were your own worst enemy.

Then, exactly two months to the day that you had broken your best friend's heart, you'd taken a test that was going to change everything.

Ben had kept inviting you to drinks and up until now you had kept declining. This time however you had accepted. You needed to talk to Frankie and he was always at drinks. You just hoped that your going wouldn't push him to ditch them that night.

When you stepped into the bar you could hear Benny call out to you and you smiled as you make your way over, noting how both brothers were smiling up at you but Frank was looking away.

"Hey." You said as you made your way to the table and sat down on the chair Ben pulled out for you "Long time no see."

"Well, whose fault is that?" Will grumbled and you grimaced as you nodded your head.

"Touche."

"Got you a beer." Ben said as he pushed the beverage towards you.

"Oh, I'm not drinking tonight." You said as you nudged it back "Alcohol hasn't been agreeing with me lately."

Frankie snorted and you tried hard to ignore the reaction. You desperately wanted to talk to him. For him to acknowledge you but you knew that he wasn't going to do that. You had hurt him.

"So what's new with you?" Ben asked "How come you've ditched us for the last two months>"

"Had a lot going on." You answered, not a complete lie "Some stuff happened and I needed some time to deal."

"What stuff?" Will asked and you sighed.

"I lost someone." You elaborated "A friend and I miss them."

"Shit Titch, I'm sorry." Will said as he gave your arm a friendly squeeze "Anyone we know?"

"I don't really wanna talk about it." You said as you gave them a weak smile.

"Figures," Frank grumbled under his breath and you looked up at him in shock.

"What was that Fish?" Ben asked and Frankie shook his head.

"Nothing." He growled out "Need another drink."

"What's his problem?" Will asked and Ben shrugged.

"Been off for a few weeks now." Ben sighed "Think he got his heart broken."

"He was seeing someone?" You pushed and Ben shook his head.

"Dunno but I haven't seen him like this since Mel died." That statement made your stomach roll "He's been really forlorn. Doesn't wanna talk about it though. He's not the guy to kiss and tell but I think he might've been seeing someone and she ditched him."

You let out a sigh as your hand reached into your pocket and clutched the item in there. You needed to talk to Frank but you weren't sure how you were going to get him to listen to you. Little did you know, it wasn't going to be how you hoped.

You were an hour into drinks when Ben finally snapped. Each snide remark Fish made when you answered a question had him at tipping point. So in a fit of rage, he opened the can.

"What the fuck is your problem Fish?" He snapped, taking the older man by surprise "You've done nothing but make shitty remarks about Titch all evenin'... Something happen?"

"Doesn't matter." Frankie grumbled and you sighed.

"Frankie I-"

"You say you're sorry to me one more time and I'll-"

"What the fuck she got to be sorry about?" Ben growled and Fish flipped.

"She fucked me and then dumped me." He snarled. taking everyone by surprise "I confessed how I felt about her and she took advantage of me."

"Frankie can we talk about this outside for a moment."

"I don't wanna hear it." He grumbled and you felt yourself growing more agitated.

"There's something I need to talk to you about."

"I doubt it."

"Please... I need to tell you something."

"Nothing they can't hear." He spat and you lost it.

"Fine!." You pulled out the item that had been burning a hole in your pocket all evening "I'm pregnant!.. and it's yours."

Frankie's expression changed from one of anger to complete shock. Finally for the first time this evening he looked at you and what he saw broke his heart.

"I'm going to keep it. I don't expect anything from you." You finished before grabbing your coat and your bag "I think I should leave."

"Titch." Ben grabbed your wrist but you pulled it from his grasp.

"Sorry to have ruined your night."

You left then. Disappearing from the bar and leaving the three men sat there in shocked silence. Frankie stared at the test in disbelief. He was going to be a dad? And with the woman who... despite everything that had happened... He was still very much in love with.

"Fish?" Will's voice pulled him from his thoughts "You okay?"

"Yeah... Um... Just, processing I guess."

"What you gonna do?" Asked Ben and Frankie shrugged.

"Do you want this?" Will asked and Frank sobbed, nodding as he looked over at Will and then a Ben.

"I really do."

"Then you best go tell her." Ben pushed as he gave his friend's arm a friendly squeeze "I know she hurt you and I pissed as shit at her about it but you guys are gonna have a baby so you got to move past that."

Frankie nodded at Benny before grabbing the test and looking at the message on the small screen.

Pregnant

He had to see you. To talk to you but he found himself glued to the spot. What was he supposed to say? He supposed he'd know the moment he saw you. So after staring at the test for a little while longer he said his goodbyes to the brothers and left, waving down a cab when he reached the street.

Meanwhile, you were sobbing quietly to yourself as you brewed your depressing mug of decaf coffee. That was not how you had wanted to tell him. You'd wanted to confess how sorry you were and how shitty you'd been before giving him the test and telling him that something wonderful had come out of it though. You had just sat down on the couch when a knock sounded at your door. You sighed as you placed your mug down on the coffee and made your way over. Not bothering to check who it was before you opened it.

There, standing on your porch was Frankie.

"Frankie, what are you-"

"I'm in." He stated plainly as he gave you a small nod "Let's have a baby!"

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kinzis-writing · 1 year ago

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Christmas Tree Farm | Josh Allen

Kinzi's 25 Days of Christmas: Blogmas Day 4

It is Y/N's first Christmas living with her fiance, Josh. Y/N had a Christmas tradition to wear her family and/or friends always went to a Christmas tree farm to pick out their live tree. Y/N is sad when she feels her tradition has to stop because of a new developed allergy to her favorite kind of Christmas trees. Josh makes it his mission to keep the tradition alive, even if he has to improvise a little.

Pairing: Josh Allen (Bills/NFL) x Fem! Fiance! Reader

Warning(s): mentions of allergies? Christmas traditions, and I think that is all.

Christmas was Y/N's favorite time of year. She loved living in New York because it had a higher chance of snow then what she was used too, where she was from the south. This was her first Christmas in her new house, well their new house. It wasn't new, but it was new to Y/N because she had moved in with her fiancé after six months of being engaged and wedding planning. Everything was perfect, until Y/N had an allergic reaction to something that she used to love and was forced to get allergy tested. Y/N was devastated when her allergy test came back that she was allergic to the type of trees that she loved to use as her live Christmas trees every year.

Looking back, she should have known something had changed. As she kept what she thought was a sinus infection all winter until she took her tree down. She was just in denial and refused to think it was an allergy. Her love for the holiday still existed, but it saddened her to not be able to have a live Christmas tree just like all those years of traditions.

"Josh, I already told you that I'll decorate this weekend. It's going to take me until after Christmas to find a free that I like." Y/N complained as Josh had mentioned them going to the store and finding Christmas decorations for their house. He had known the toll the allergy results had taken on his fiancé, and he hated that there was nothing he could do to fix it. "Going to the store isn't the same as going to the tree farm." She mumbled in disappointment.

"I'm sorry, baby." Josh mumbled leaning over a placing a tender kiss on her head. "I know how much it bothers you to have to discontinue a tradition you've had since you were a kid, but maybe we can start a new tradition?" He suggested hoping to make her feel better. "One of our own."

Y/N gave her husband a small smile. She was beyond grateful to have someone like Josh in her life, "Thank you, Joshy." she replied to him. "I just, it's such a big part of this Holiday that it stings a bit to let it go."

Once brunch was finished, Josh headed out to go meet his teammates for workout and practice. Y/N had been around his teammates plenty of times, whether that be after games, or at parties or hang outs. She was the closest to Stefon, which is why Josh had taken the problem to his teammate and asked for help. During their workout, the two men talked about what they could do to help Y/N feel better.

It had taken them a while to figure out how to keep her tradition but make it to where her allergies would not bother her. Until the men had an idea, once they approved that it was worth a try. They had a plan in motion and pulled some strings. Which is why when Josh came home from practice all smiles, Y/N was a bit unsure of what had happened that day.

"What's got you in a good mood?" Y/N asked, wanting to know what had happened that day.

Josh gave her a smile as he walked forward and wrapped his arms around her. "Get ready, I'm taking you out." Josh replied giving her a quick kiss before letting her go get ready.

It was cold in New York, so Y/N dressed warm and put on some makeup really fast. She didn't feel like going out but she would see what Josh had planned. She knew that her fiancé was only trying to make her feel better about the whole situation.

The couple left once Y/N had gotten ready and they had warmed up the car. Josh then handed her a blindfold, to which she protested at first but eventually gave in knowing that he was trying to make her feel better.

"Where are we?" Y/N asked once the car had stopped, probably after around 30 minutes, and Josh was helping her out.

"You'll see." Josh promised as the two continued walking with Y/N being led by Josh. He stopped her at the entrance that him and stefon had threw together. He carefully took Y/N's blind fold off.

Y/N stood in shock at what she was looking at. A light snow dusted the ground making it even better. A homemade sign reading "Christmas Tree Farm" hung up over a simple but cute arch that was clearly homemade as well. At least a dozen artificial trees were stuck in the ground, with who knows what, but she could tell that they weren't the cheaper trees that she had been looking at. These trees actually looked like the real Christmas trees that she usually used.

"I know this still isn't the same, but I wanted to try to make you happy." Josh rambled as he got nervous when his fiance did not say anything.

"It's perfect." she spoke softly, tears welling in her eyes. She turned to face her man with a grin. "This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me, thank you."

A smile grew on Josh's face, "I'd do anything for you baby." He assured.

"Hey!" A voice broke the couple out of their moment. "I helped too." The voice of their best friend reminded.

Y/N smiled at her man's teammate, "Thank you, Stefon." she thanked him before walking and giving him a hug as well.

"You're welcome, anything for Mrs. Allen." He shrugged but then smirked when he noticed how red her face had gotten from his comment.

Y/N made her way back to Josh as they made small talk and walked around the homemade farm to pick out the Christmas tree that they would be decorating for their living room. Once she had found the perfect tree, Josh had gotten the tree to their house and got it set up in the place that she was wanting it.

"Thank you again, Joshy." Y/N spoke up as the pair decorated the tree together. "I know I was a downer this morning, and I am so sorry. But I am forever thankful for what you created." she promised.

Josh gave her grin knowing how much his plan had helped her get over her sadness. It was all he was hoping for because he knew how much Y/N loved Christmas. "When I say I would do anything for you, I seriously mean that I will do anything for you." Josh explained. "I love you and I promise to take care of you and fulfill your needs and wants. You're my world, and you always will be."

Author's note: This could have ended better, but I have been trying to write so many of these and I keep on getting behind. Also, I have to go back to the doctor tomorrow because they think I have a heart condition, so I have to go get that checked out at 10 in the morning. This past week I had multiple tests done to check my heart so I have been stressed out since I went to the dr the first time. I'm hoping for good news but you never know.

#josh allen #josh allen imagine #nfl player x reader #nfl fandom #nfl imagine #nfl players #kinzis 25 days of blogmas #kinzis 25 days of christmas #25 days of imagines #kinzi's 25 days of christmas #blogmas

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