#okay i like this so much more than yesterdays i'm sorry
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castlekriegler · 3 days ago
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Hello everybody! :D
Master Eckhardt, I have a confession! xD For the past two weeks I've been trying to get used to the remastered Kurtis. His new looks has been bothering me. Yes, me, one of the most obsessed people with Lartis and AOD. :( :( :( It makes me feel sad and confused. I was not sure if to write anything because I didn't want to be spoiling the ongoing party! Plus I didn't want to criticize in public too much because that would feel like back-stabbing all the people involved…
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Luckily yesterday I realized that with some minor adjustments and rather small changes made here and there, he could be close to perfection and way closer to the original. ;D
Just to make myself clear: I have NEVER meant to bother or attack the creators and/or fans of the remastered version of Kurtis. I'm happy that many people love the new Kurtis' face. And I'm glad, grateful, excited and enthusiastic that TRAOD has got another chance to shine. (Even though we all know that there have been some quality and other issues mostly caused by the lack of time - which is unforgivable! by the people who caused it - AOD has always deserved more and seems to be cursed by the time restrains…)
Anyway I wasn't sure what exactly was bothering me about the new face in Kurtis' case, but something was definitely off to me. I couldn't put my finger on where the problem was, but yesterday I figured it out. At least I think. ;) I made these rough edits last week and et voilà - Welcome back, Kurtis Trent! :D (Sorry for the bad quality. I had only a very simple rectangular selection tool at hand, but you get the picture - I'm planning to make 'clean' versions as well when I have more time.)
(The pictures on the right are the edited ones.)
(The original picture posted by @angel-in-shadow: https://angel-in-shadow.tumblr.com/post/776308000718716928/soooooo-i-might-have-some-remastered-kuris-mesh)
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The jaw and chin
The bony face shape from some angles (not visible here) makes him look much younger and even a little bit starving. xD But more importantly, PLS, get rid of the protruding (hag's xD) chin. It doesn't suit him IMHO. It changes a face a lot; it's completely different type of chin. I have a problem with the fact that the original face didn't have even a tiny hint of that face trait. Also his upper lip is does not stick out anymore and the lips are not so uneven now.
(The original picture posted by @minis-gaming: https://minis-gaming.tumblr.com/post/776146302680596480/the-demon-hunter)
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The hair and his lips
I'd personally prefer his hair a little bit darker (not visible in the dark pictures in general) and the front hair shorter. I would also add more hair to the front - like overgrown bangs of a sort - more of it getting into his eyes (and covering his forehead more). I also flattened his hair on the top of his head. It looked almost like backcombed xD. Also the strand of hair thrown into the back the remastered Kurtis has - I have no idea how it could stay in place like that. xD The fringe-like haircut seems to be more practical and 'free' and without a need of adjusting it every minute. xD
The shape of his upper lip looks really weird in some angles. I made the upper lip narrower in the second pic. That was it. But to me the difference is HUGE. (The model seems to be okay though, so I guess it's more like a matter of textures or something… Sorry, I'm not very familiar with the 3D terminology.)
(Again the right picture is the edited one - I only made the original on the left lighter.)
I can recognize him now. I wonder if anyone agrees with me?
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Of course, the original graphics (lacking in some ways for today standards) was leaving more space for imagination, so I admit we all could see the characters a little bit differently. ;)
Do I like the new remastered face? Yes - with some reservations. All in all, he has always been more than just a pretty face. ;) His appearance is important to me of course, but I especially LOVE his character. On the other hand, like seriously, look at the difference the edited pics make… *drolls* :D AWWW!!!!!! *crazyfangirling* I NEED THESE CHANGES! :P :D :D :D
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Many people won't probably agree with me on several points in this post (PLEASE LET ME STILL JOIN THE PARTY!), but I'm just sharing some of my thoughts here. And wondering about your opinions. ;) And I'm also writing this to let the fans of the original model of Kurtis know that they are not alone. ;) :P Either way, the original is still here, so we all can be happy. A WIN-WIN situation, isn't it? ;D
PHEW! I have SO needed to get these thoughts out! You have no idea… I guess I'm too much into the issue; well, it's been a while since my obsession with AOD started, so please have patience and bear with me. xD We have spent a really long time with the original game… ;)
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captain-bubble-wrap · 2 days ago
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soooo babe, what do we think about a little fic where auston facetimes you before every game because you are his lucky charm?🤭💚🤞🏼
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*bing, bing, bing, bing*
You had been waiting with your phone next to you for the last hour, anticipating Auston's call. You were sitting on the sofa, leaning with your back against the arm, knees pulled up and wrapped in a large blanket. When his video call invitation took over your screen, you wasted no time answering. You were so excited that you had to be careful not to spill the hot tea you had been sipping when you heard it.
"Hey, mami," Auston said with an instant smile, seeing you on the other end.
"Hey, sweetheart! How are you feeling?"
His brown eyes looked like caramel against the sunlight streaming in through the windows he was seated by. You could tell he had just gotten up from his post-practice nap, and obviously couldn't wait to call you. A man of many pre-game rituals, Auston had his habits and one of them included giving you a call --either on video or by phone as he drove to the arena-- before every single game, since the two of you had become an item. The first time he had done it, the Leafs had won, and he just felt like keeping the habit going, in the hopes that maybe it would happen again. Not to mention, he just really liked talking to you.
"I'm pretty good, still waking up. What about you? I hope you're feeling better." You watched as his eyes wandered over you slightly. "I'd love to be there with you. You look pretty comfy."
"You know you're welcome anytime! And I'm okay, doing better than yesterday, so I can't complain." After dealing with the flu for the past week, you were thankful to finally be feeling like yourself. That had been the reason you weren't going to the game tonight.
Auston smiled at you while you spoke, just in love with the sound of your voice much as you were with his. Everything about him made your heart flutter: from his smile, his laugh, his little gestures, all of it.
"I wish you could be there, but I understand why you can't. You've got three days to get better," he laughed lightly. "Need my lucky charm sitting next to the bench with me."
You could feel your face grow hot. Why had that made you blush? Was it the fact that Auston was confessing how much he meant to you --calling you his good luck charm-- and honestly meaning it? Was it him making you the center of his world whenever he could, especially during busy game days? Why were you so surprised?
He caught the change in your face, "Are you alright? Your face looks flushed."
You tried to hide it by taking a sip of your tea, peering at him over the rim of the cup, but it was no good. "Mhm, yeah, I'm-- fine!"
Auston raised an eyebrow suspiciously, smiling. "Are you blushing?"
"No! Well-- maybe!"
"You're adorable."
"See, it's stuff like that that does it!"
His whole face lit up as he smiled wider, looking down. Was he blushing now? It was hard to tell against his tanned skin tone, but it made you feel better thinking that he was just as flustered as you were.
"It's good to see you smile," he added, finally returning his face to look at you. "I was worried about you."
You appreciated his concern, and moved quickly to reassure him that everything was alright, "It was just the flu, baby! I'm okay now!"
"I didn't know you could sleep that much," he teased. "I missed you."
Playfully, you rolled your eyes, "I'm sure you were just fine~"
"I was lost without you," Auston replied, giving you his best puppy dog eyed pout. "You left me all alone...for days!"
You had to laugh at his dramatic display. Even though he was just hamming it up for you, to make you smile, you had wished that you could have given him a little more attention --check-ins-- during that span of time, but being sick had taken more from you than you had realized.
"I'm sorry~ Forgive me?"
"Only because you're so damn cute."
Both of you shared a laugh followed by a quiet moment after. You knew he couldn't stay on the call too much longer, and neither of you were ready to let the other go.
"I'll call you on my way home, okay? Well, I'll text you first, make sure you're awake."
"I'll be up! I'm going to watch the game!"
Auston smiled, "I know, but that post-game stuff takes a bit. You still need to rest. I can always call you in the morning."
"But--," you tried to interject, but failed.
"Mami-- you need your rest. I'll still text you good night. Don't make me feel bad because I woke you up," he frowned slightly. "Be kind to your body."
His protective nature had your heart fluttering. He was so kind, so considerate. "If I get tired, I'll go to bed. I promise."
"Thank you," he winked, before catching sight of the time. "Hey, I've gotta get Felix out and get around. Like I said, I'll text you, okay?"
"Mhm," you nodded, sad that he had to go, but understanding why. "Be careful tonight, and good luck!"
"I will," he promised. "I love you."
"I love you more!"
Before Auston ended the call, he left you with one more reason to blush, "Next goal is for you."
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wigglesdtuff · 2 years ago
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I would thrive if I healed, I can feel it in my heart And the peace of my mind is terrified of the light I'll never get there now
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minus-plus-zer0 · 6 months ago
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Accidentally Sleeping Together
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♡ Genre: Fluff, suggestive ♡ Pairing: Bakugou x Reader (Imagine the bunny on the right is Bakugou, afraid of you waking up O-o)
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Bakugou's arms curled tight around you, his sleepy fingers running across your skin rhythmically. It took his similarly sleepy brain a couple of seconds before he realized that this wasn't a beautiful dream.
This was real.
Bakugou leapt off you, his back slamming into his dorm wall. He rubbed the back of his head, swore several expletives at nothing in particular, and then assessed the damage.
You slept together last night. He didn't remember if it was an accident or if you two... did something, but his head was not 100% there yet in the morning.
You were even slower than him to wake, but he could see your figure rustling, and all he could think was "Crap, crap, crap, crap!" It was like he was pinned against the wall. Even if he had an easy exit route, he couldn't exactly walk out on you without proving his innocence first. Or making sure you were okay.
You finally opened your eyes, wiping them. Tentatively, Bakugou spoke.
"Hey, we need to--"
You shrieked and Bakugou cringed from the noise. You sat upright, whipping your head around like it was on a swivel, pure shock on your cute little face. Bakugou was the same amount of scared, but unlike you he was frozen.
"What did we do?!" you cried.
"I don't know!"
"Did we sleep together?!"
"I don't fucking know!"
Bakugou's heart was racing. The fact that you even considered sleeping with him as a possible event within this point of space and time just totally befuddled him. If this whole ordeal didn't screw over his chances with you, then his stupidly hopeful heart could take this as a good sign.
He chose his next words very carefully.
"Did we?" he asked, a little eyebrow cocked and his voice low.
You stared at him, the gears turning in your adorable thoughtless head. He wondered what things you were thinking right now. Your face was normally pure and innocent and cute, but your mind was typically evil and mischievous and always thinking of ways to prank and tease him, so it was hard to say what was happening in there at this exact moment. But being your best friend and all, he had some ideas of what you were probably thinking of.
He shouldn't be focusing on that right now though. Although you didn't look uncomfortable or creeped out, you were the type of person who'd struggle to voice your negative thoughts in a time like this. And as your best friend, Bakugou had to make sure you were okay. It was like, his calling in life.
"You alright?" he asked, snapping you out of your reverie. "I would never take advantage of you. You know that, right?"
"I know," you said, almost immediately. Bakugou was a little proud of your trust and your strong connection together.
"Are you okay?" he asked, again.
"Yeah, I'm okie dokie... Are you?"
You reached out to his face and he realized he had been blushing for some time now.
"I'm sorry," you said. "Did I scare you? Did I sleep here on accident? Can't believe I crashed in your room..."
"Don't apologize to me! Jeez. You're always apologizing to other people. I'm fine. I would never be creeped out by you. In fact, you've almost fucking dozed off here a couple of times in the past. You just don't remember 'cause I carried you back each time." That last part was a bit of a brag.
"Oh?" you cocked your head. "But you didn't tonight. Guess you were too much of a lazy little sleepy head yesterday."
"No more than you!"
That was how you both ended up grinning at each other, faces too close and somewhat red, but happy all the same.
If you weren't uncomfortable, if you were even smiling at him, Bakugou wanted to push things further. Your lips were only several centimeters away, and he wanted to close the distance. But he couldn't risk it unless he knew for sure you'd want him to.
"Had a good sleep, then?" he asked, voice rumbly and still low while his smirk never left his face. "After all, it's my bed."
"I would've, but maybe someone was hogging all the sheets." You mock glared at him, but you didn't back away.
"Well I bought them," he retorted. "Didn't think I'd get a new roommate tonight."
"Maybe I'll just steal your bed and then we won't have a problem."
"You're gonna steal my bed with me in it?"
You lightly slapped his chest and he laughed. You were laughing too, but dammit even if it was funny, he wasn't entirely joking...
Still, he couldn't say he was unhappy.
"Seriously can't fucking believe I woke up to you today," he said, letting some of his true adoration for you spread across his face. "Next time you sleep here, I'm not carrying you back..."
While he still had the chance, he needed to push things further, so you'd understand where he really stood on this situation. Bakugou had enough of all the near-miss kisses in your relationship. He wanted more.
Your hands cupped his face and he stayed put, obediently.
"You won't need to," you whispered.
His fingers grabbed your chin. "I don't ever want to."
And with that, he kissed you, finally.
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eunandonly · 6 months ago
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⟡ ── after an argument
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hyung line x fem. reader | what they do to apologise after an argument
genre: fluff, est. relationship | wc. 0.9k ♡ a/n: this is my first writing ever so i'm not sure it's good but support is appreciated!! <3
lee heeseung
"y/n, i'm sorry."
even though it had been your boyfriend's apology you had so desperately wanted, you found yourself tilting your position ever so slightly away from him. you were still not ready to forgive him completely, not after the argument you two had yesterday. it was going to take much more than a simple sorry to win back your heart. the words he had said had been hurtful, and the day had been filled with tension that had only just eased a bit by heeseung's apology. — more under cut!
"y/n, please, i'm sorry for what i said yesterday. i know it was wrong of me. i don't know what i was thinking, saying stuff like that." heeseung tried again, resting his warm hand on your shoulder.
it was the tone of his voice that made you soften. you could tell he truly felt bad for what had happened. when heeseung noticed that you weren't shrugging his hand off, he immediately engulfed you in a hug, giving you soft pecks on your cheek.
"i'm so sorry, baby." he mumbled against the fabric of your hoodie, his chest pressed against your back and his faced buried behind in the crook of your neck. you leaned into his soft touch, smiling despite yourself and he murmured sweet nothings in your ear.
park jongseong
you were startled by the warmth of jay's presence as he stood close behind you, lifting your hair up gently before putting a necklace around your neck without a word.
"jay? what are you doing?" you asked, placing a hand on the necklace he had just clasped on, trying to get a look at it.
"it's a gift for you," jay said quietly, his touch lingering for a few seconds even after he was done with the necklace as if he was scared to let go. "i felt so bad for yelling at you last night. i'm so sorry love, i shouldn't have done that."
you had already forgiven jay for what he had said last night, though you hadn’t told him directly. it had mostly been your fault but you had still gotten mad at your boyfriend.
you saw a glimpse of a flash of gold from the reflection of the window, and you turned to face jay. "you didn't have to do that. it was my fault, bringing it up after such a long time when you were tired."
jay bent down to your height, giving you a warm smile before kissing you on the forehead, his hands around your waist.
"anything for my princess."
sim jaeyun
even though you had your back turned to your boyfriend jake, still annoyed about the petty little argument you two had had that morning, jake was clinging onto you more than ever. he had his arms around you, rambling random things and apologies over and over again. the topics varied, from funny anecdotes and random thoughts and he had said at least a million apologies.
“jake, i’m still mad. like really, really mad. and it doesn’t matter how many puppy eyes you give me because it’s not going to work.”
jake snuggled up even closer to you, and you tried to push him away, but he persisted. “i’m sorry, y/n, i’m very, very sorry.”
you smiled despite yourself, turning your head away so he wouldn’t be able to see the way the corners of your lips were curling up without permission. “i’m still angry.”
you could practically imagine jake’s pout and the kind of expression he was making.
“come on y/n, i’m sorry i ate your chocolate ice cream, i’ll buy you a new one today, i promise. i’ll buy you two.”
when he got no response from you, he hugged you a little bit tighter before tickling you, making you laugh.
"okay," you gasped between laughs, trying to get away from jake. "okay, but you better buy me that ice cream."
park sunghoon
when you arrived home, still upset about the argument you had had with your boyfriend sunghoon last night, you found a small white box waiting for you on your desk. it was carefully wrapped, laced ribbons and all. curious to see what it was, you put down your bag and unravelled the ribbon and gently opened the box lid to find rows of chocolate wrapped in pretty silver wrappers and a little note written in sunghoon’s handwriting. 
an apology note.
perhaps this was sunghoon's way of saying to sorry to you, your shy yet caring boyfriend. it was rather sweet, and you felt your anger melt away.
you immediately dialled his number on your phone, and it barely rang before he picked up. perhaps he had been waiting for your call, and that made you smile.
“uhm, i got the chocolate you left for me,” you said, reading the note he had written. “thank you, and i’m sorry for getting mad at you yesterday, i know you have a lot going on right now.”
hearing sunghoon’s soft voice at the end of the line was comforting. “you shouldn’t apologise, i yelled at you for no reason. enjoy the chocolates, i’ll be back soon. um, i love you.”
you smiled as you bit into the chocolate. "love you too. give me lots of kisses when you come back. i miss you.”
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rodeorun · 6 months ago
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love in the dark.
yandere pretty boyfriend x fem!reader.
cw: drugging, black-mail, non-con blowjob, degradation. Featuring @meo-eiru 's OC, Elias ❤️
MDNI.
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“You better work,” Elias threatened the baby pink candle he was holding between pretty, manicured fingers.
One might even compare it to the young man himself. Long and more thin than thick, the pink wax at the tip molded into a heart shape, white wick sticking through the middle. Elias always had love on the brain, at least when it came to you. Pity he didn't have a fine white wick of logic to split his head in two, or rather, his heart. But, when you love the way he did, weren't those two practically the same thing?
He doesn't know how many hours he spent on the dark web to find this, some sort of ‘love candle.’ Whatever that bullshit meant. The description the seller left behind was short and to the point.
‘Ignite this candle in the presence of your desired person and watch them fall in love with you.’
Even Elias in all his lovesickness found it hard to believe, but it was that sickness itself that led him to purchasing the item. He hadn't gotten a gig lately so he prayed for the payment to go through, giving himself a headache for purchasing a mere candle that was six hundred and fifty dollars. God, the things he would do for you (or to you, but that's a completely different matter.)
You, the object of his affections. His sweet, sweet, sweet best friend who has saved him more times than he could count. You were entirely too good for him and he knew it.
A special knock on his door alerted him to your presence, and he knew it was you because you two had created that very knock in sophomore year of university. Long after he changed his name, you still had the heart to played with him like a child. Where others laughed at his girlish tears and overgrown sobs, you healed his inner child with every hug, every whisper, every time you'd look into his eyes and tell him, ‘it's okay, Elias. I'm here for you.’
And you always were.
No matter how bad his tantrums got, you never got sick of him. You were the only one who stayed. You practically conditioned him. How could he ever want anyone else after tasting a drop of your sweetness?
“Hi, darling!” Elias opened the door and pulled you in for a hug, kicking the door shut behind you. “Someone's mighty dressed up for a movie night in, hehe. Oooh, is this wine? Gimme gimmie!”
Taking the bag from your hands, Elias turned to put it on the table, laying a sweaty palm against his flushed cheek. Heaven, he couldn't do this much longer! Just a hug from you and a whiff of that perfume had him hardening in his yoga pants. He stayed faced away from you as he rocked side to side, subtly rubbing himself against the bottle you brought just for him. All for him.
“So, I was thinking we could start with a rom-com and then maybe a western, for variety, and after that there's a three hour long horror movie I found that-”
“Sorry, Elias.”
Glittering eyelids opened themselves.
“See, my boyfriend injured his arm in a game yesterday, so I need to go help cook for him,” you explained. Your sorry eyes seared into his back.
Ah, yes. That boyfriend of yours. Taller than Elias, bigger than Elias, handsome enough to be called a heartthrob and an athlete by profession. A real winner, that boyfriend of yours!
Elias wanted to spit on his corpse.
“Oh, your boyfriend!” He clasped his hands together and turned to face you. “The one who forgot to pick you up at the mall last week because he slept through his alarm, right? I remember him.” Elias fiddled with one of the bottles of wine now, snarling. So much for a ‘gift,’ you were just trying to buy his forgiveness.
“Yes, Eli, that boyfriend,” you chuckled. “But I forgave him for that, you know? Nobody's perfect.”
The illusion of bliss he was swept up in from hearing that sweet nickname quickly shattered.
‘Nobody's perfect.’ Elias knew that better than anyone else. Afterall, he was the last thing but, and yet you still treated him so preciously.
So, why? Why was it the very same thing he fell in love with you for, you were flaunting to just anyone? Don't you know that love isn't free? Especially not yours! How many bottles of hair dye, micro-needling appointments, collagen fillers, and waxing appointments did he go to for your love? By God he knows his deadname didn't deserve you, but didn't Elias at least earn a little bit of your attention?
How dare you, honestly. How dare you show someone else the kindness you won him over with? How dare you waltz in here just to stand him up for another man! How dare you fucking-
“Eli?”
“Yes, my beloved?”
You looked upon him tentatively, a testament to what a ticking time bomb he is. “Oh, alright, I forgive you.” He waved you off playfully and walked over to hold both of your hands in his. “But next time, I'll tie you up and keep you here forever, munchkin~”
Your laugh mingled with his. As if you thought he was joking.
“Ah, but, darling! At least have a drink with me before you go. It would be lonely to pop open a bottle by myself, hm?”
A single drink.
That's what you and Elias agreed on. One glass and you'd be on your way to that wretch. You didn't drive to get here and assured Elias that your boyfriend would drive you back home. As if.
“Oh, before we cheers,” Elias put his glass down and went to rummage for a box of matches, shaking his hips this way and that while humming in his search.
“Someone's in a good mood,” you grinned, watching him groove to imaginary music.
“Yes, with you around I always am,” he teased and returned to the table. He put the candle in the stand and lit it.
It was only a little unsettling that he watched you instead of the matches while he did so.
“That's a really cute candle, Elias. Where'd you get it?” you asked him as he sat down across from you, drink in hand.
“Oh, this old thing? It's just something I had laying around- Oh my god!”
Elias flinched as the candle suddenly exploded, letting out a small puff of wind that blew his hair back and left behind a plume of pink smog.
“Darling?! Are you- ack! You okay?” Elias wafted the air between hacking coughs until he could see your face again.
You looked shocked, as one would when a candle explodes in their face, but then you started laughing. Small titters that rang like a bell until it turned into gasps that made you grab your stomach.
“You're, hahahaha, so, so silly, Eli! Haha, where do you get these things?!”
Oh, honey. He couldn't stop loving you even if he tried.
“Oh, stop that, you! How was I supposed to know it would do that,” Elias played along, ears still tinged pink at his little blunder. You two looked at each other and then fell into joined laughter.
This light, airy feeling was a drug to him. No matter how boring he was, how flat his personality, you could always find something more in him. Something to talk about, to laugh about, to entertain him with. Something he couldn't find by himself.
It's like the universe sent you to him as if to say, ‘hey! This is the person who will make life worth living! The one who will take that mind numbing emptiness away!’
And who was he to deny the wishes of the universe?
“Worthless piece of junk,” Elias muttered when things settled down. The candle really was a sham then. “At least it smells nice,” he lit the candle again and waved the match to out it. “Anyways, I got a manicure today and the lady was way too rough with my cuticles. She should quit if that's the service she's going to give.”
He brought his nails up, inspecting the blood red polish.
He was met with silence.
“Darling?”
Your head was down, lip trapped between your teeth.
“R-Right. Well, it's pretty,” you shot him a sad kind of smile. “It's just, well, no. Hm, uh, no…I forgot, I guess?” Elias watched you scramble around until small tears dripped from your eyes. “I guess I just forgot that you see other women every day.”
His heart froze in his chest.
“And, I, I know she was just doing her job, but holding your hand while she did your nails- she did hold your hand, right? That's a little…”
You trailed off and wiped your tears, willing yourself to gather such thoughts while Elias looked on in shock.
His eyes flicked to the candle, to you, the candle, you. Always you.
“She did,” he said simply, cautiously, “hold my hand. Yes, she did.” Your face cumbled, making Elias shoot up. “But I hated it! I wished it was you! I want you to be the one holding my hand!”
“Really?” Those big, wet eyes pleaded with him. “Because, I get jealous, you know.”
Something below his belt started stirring.
“Is that so?” He hummed and pulled his chair over next to you, thumbing the tears under your eyes like you had done for him so many times before.
The light of the candle reflected in your eyes and when Elias glanced over, it had melted remarkably quickly. The leftover wax dripped onto the table but he couldn't care less.
First things first, he needed to make sure what he hypothesized was real. That this wasn't a ploy.
“You know, dear, I was very hurt when you started going out with that bastard. You hurt me, a lot. How do you think I felt?” He cooed like you were a child, soft and gentle in his palm.
“I'm so sorry, Eli. I'll break up with him, okay? I only want you! I'm really- mmph!”
Not the romantic first kiss he was dreaming of, but perfect nonetheless.
All this groveling and begging, over little ol’ him? It was too cute. He could just eat you up! But before that, it seems Elias was going to be devoured first.
“Darling? Ngh!” You were tangling your tongue with his, sucking his lips, his cheeks, his tongue, leaving little nibbles on his blushing skin. “Hold on, I need to-”
“Need to what, Eli? I need you right now,” you swallowed, “I feel like my body is on fire.”
Oh, god, the candle really did work. You were squirming on your chair, rubbing your legs together and giving him the absolute cutest puppy eyed stare. You wanted him. You wanted him.
“Yeah?” Elias said breathlessly, trying to keep pace with you, “well I think I need an apology for you cheating on me first.”
He stood up and pulled his oversized sweater up, letting you peek at the bulge growing underneath tight grey cotton.
“Oh, Eli! It's so pretty!” You weren't shy about rubbing him over his pants. “All of you is so, so pretty, baby. Can I…suck you?”
“Darling, I'm yours!” He said eagerly, the sudden onslaught of praise leaving him dizzy. “Anything you want to do, I'm yours!”
By the time you peeled down his pants and had his leaking dick positioned at your mouth, he was ready to burst. He was entirely ready to finally get his reward, but you hesitated.
“Wait, Eli. I think we should wait, um…my boyfriend. I should break up with him first.”
That goddamn candle should have come with a special feature to make you forget anyone but him all together.
Elias probably looked terrifying right now, fine features underlit by the glow of the candle, staring down at you harshly. For once, he didn't find your babbling cute. Not when every other word was your boyfriend's name. So, Elias kindly shut you up.
“There we go~” Elias cooed, thrusting his hips a little. “Ah, ah, darling. Don't run from it,” he giggled, “or I'll shove it down your fucking throat~”
You were choking on his cock, unable to pull away with how he had his fingers locked behind your head. More than you moving, it was Elias who was pumping himself in and out of your mouth, not stopping until his balls slapped against your chin every time.
“What a good little thing you are, angel. I love you so much! Hey, do you love me too? I asked if you loved me too!”
Even under the effects of the candle, you looked scared. Elias was frantic now, not only his balls hitting your chin, but his toned abdomen smashing into your face as he fucked your entire head roughly. “Dirty fucking bitch! I trusted you! I love you and you left me for dead to go date that idiot! Do you know how much that hurt me?! How much I need you?! You were supposed to me mine, all mine, just like I'm yours! You dirty, dirty f-fucking whore!” Elias let out a wet sob, spilling down your throat with his eyes screwed shut.
Heavy pants left his mouth as he stumbled back to sit on his chair, chest heaving up and down. Even through your coughing, you couldn't help but worry about him.
“Eli? A-Are you okay?”
What a wreck your voice was, no doubt you'd be feeling him in your throat for days.
“It's not all out.”
“Huh? I don't understand-”
“Lift your shirt up.” He wasn't asking.
The smooth expanse of your chest was revealed and Elias used it as extra motivation to get the last few drops of cum out, fisting his tip roughly to pull out those last thick strings. It pearled on your skin beautifully and you didn't hesitate to stick your tongue out, cleaning him off properly with soft sucks that made him tremble.
“Good girl,” he sighed and eventually sat. It was like the devil was released from him. He was just Elias again, your Eli. “That was my first blowjob, you know,” he giggled cutely, like you two were mischievous kids sharing secrets in a treehouse.
Elias sighed and leaned in to hug you after lifting his pants back over his soft length. “Oh, my baby. I can't believe this worked. Had I known, I wouldn't have done this sooner. I can't believe you're finally mine,” he mumbled into your hair. “I love you, darling. And you love me too, right?”
Silence.
“Darling?”
Elias held you at shoulder length away, not wanting to let go of you completely yet. “Hey, why the tears, darling? Hehe, do you love me that much? Aw, well-”
“I'm sorry, Elias.” Your dark pupils met his.
There was no reflection from the candlelight anymore. In fact, the flame had blown out completely by now, leaving behind a sad little puddle of wax.
Your arms pushed his off as you stood up. “Shit…I- oh god, my boyfriend. What's wrong with me?! I'm sorry, Eli- I mean, Elias, um, I think the wine was a bit too strong for me. I really didn't mean to…”
What the hell was this?! Was this- did your love only last while the candle was lit?!
“What the fuck!” Elias cursed loudly, fingers gripping his silky tresses. The situation was beckoning a meltdown.
“I know, Elias, I'm so sorry, but I don't know what came over me!”
You were scared, he could see it. And he's sure part of that fear was from the ache in your throat, the names he had called you when he was at the peak of bliss. How he carried on when he was so sure you were his completely. Over what, a stupid candle? He was an idiot! He had to do damage control.
“It's…alright, darling. It's okay. Hm,” Elias hummed as he thought, standing up to pace. “It's okay. Your boyfriend is waiting for you after all, run along now. It's getting late.”
“Elias?” You weren't sure what was going on.
“Don't worry, dear,” Elias looked at you with warm eyes. ��I can keep a secret. We just got a little overwhelmed, didn't we?”
He was giving you a way out, obviously. But why?
“Right,” you said, unsure.
“That's okay, we all have our moments,” Elias giggled and walked over, wrapping his arms around you, letting one sneak down to cup your ass. “Some more than others.”
“I don't think we should be-”
“Be what? You already swallowed my load, pumpkin. Let it dribble all down your chin and everything,” he mused, rubbing a finger against your lower lip. “Or did you want to come clean to your boyfriend?”
“No! I really don't know what happened!”
“Then it's a secret,” Elias whispered, pulling you in for a kiss. You were helpless to him, unable to pull away under the looming threat of him snitching on you. His tongue traced your lips before he pulled away.
“I won't tell if you won't, darling.”
Elias sent you off with a few more kisses and a slap on your ass, already hard again and humping you like a dog all the way to the door where you left with tears in your eyes. You were just too cute!
It wasn't much, but it was something. The only excitement Elias could offer you. Now, he had a personality.
He was your secret lover.
“Aha! How wonderful!” Elias twirled around in excitement. What an adventure!
Soon, he'd guilt your sweet soul into breaking up with that idiot and you'd be all his. He already had a foot in the door after all.
Bringing a hand to his lips, he recalled the way yours felt against his. Marvelous, absolutely marvelous!
Hmm..
Elias took his phone out and sent you a quick text.
‘I think I left some lipstick on you, darling. Clean that up before you see you know who ;)’
Not even moment later, his phone rang.
“Hey, Elias?”
“Eli,” he corrected.
“Yeah, can you not-”
“Eli.”
“…Eli. Uh, can you not send texts like that, please? Just in case he sees.”
A shiver ran up Elias’ spine at the secrecy of it all. You two were bound by sin.
“Of course, darling. I'll call you tonight then.”
“I'm spending the night with him,” you said nervously. “I can't.”
“Alright then, I'll just text you,” Elias inspected his nails casually.
“But-! Ugh, fine. I'll call you later.”
“Perfect. We'll talk soon then. Make sure your camera is on, I'm still throbbing over here,” he giggled.
“I have to go now,” you whispered.
“I love you, darling.”
“Yes, he's coming so-”
“I said I love you!”
“…I love you too, Eli. Bye.”
Elias waited for you to hang up with a smile. You were already cracking under the pressure of your unwanted affair. Sure it would hurt you now, but if this didn't last long then it would be him hurting later. Surely, you wouldn't be able to deal with that, not your kind heart. After all, his beauty is something that shouldn't be marred, you said so yourself.
It was only a matter of time now.
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a/n: I actually finished this over a week ago but the Elias lore kept pouring in and I was scrambling to edit to make this as canon as possible but I gave up sooooo, yeah 😃 just imagine this as eli if he actually acted on half the shit he wants to do ig lmfaooo
Also can't believe I wrote unwilling reader because Elias is literally my baby muffin snuggly pie googlie bear and i love him, but i love men suffering more ig 💗
Divider: /animatedglittergraphics-n-more
Please do not ask for part 2. Thank you!
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burrowdarling · 7 days ago
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Baby Burrow
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Summary: After your long day at Disney celebrating baby #2, you reminisce on telling Joe about becoming a dad. Requested by this anon.
Pairings: Husband! Joe Burrow x Wife!reader
Requested: Yes | No
Warnings: pregnancy announcement, minor dirty talk alluding to smut
Note: HI! I'm so sorry that this is so late. I got some writer's block towards the end so I hope I still did your idea justice anon! Hoping to be back to posting more regularly with some requests and other works in progress. Enjoy for now!
Word Count: 2.6k
Check out my Masterlist here!
Taglist: @burrowbarbie @definitelynotdomanique @one-sweet-gubler @plushkhiii @enchantedinfinity @iosivb9 @hellsingalucard18 @hotburreaux @lilfreakjez @jburrgf Feel free to comment or message me if you'd like to be added to the list!
After a long day of running around Disney and basking in the joy of baby number 2, you were all back at your hotel. You couldn't have asked for a better day, catching Joe’s gaze from time to time as he had a hard time taking his eyes off of your son’s hat embroidered with the words ‘big brother’. You found it hard to keep your own composure all day, feeling a massive weight lifted from your shoulders now that the secret was out. The day went by in a flash and before you knew it, you were walking out the gates, your son falling asleep in your arms as you made your way to the car.                                                                                                                                            
You were all showered, finally laying in bed when Joe came back into your room from getting your son settled for the night in the connected suite. You were grateful he took the job on tonight, your legs feeling like jello from all of the walking you had done. You were no athlete and running after a toddler was no joke. He crept in, closing the door quietly behind him to not disturb you. He shot you a small smile before slipping his t-shirt over his head. Your heart swelled at the sight of him, feeling so full of joy and the small family you were creating together. He came over to you, placing a soft kiss to the top of your head. 
“Out like a light,” Joe said, emphasizing his words with a gesture of his hands.
You giggled, his hand stroking lightly against your head. You let your eyes close softly, enjoying the moment. You sighed softly when Joe slipped his hand from your hair.
“I’m gonna take a quick shower and I’ll hop into bed with you,” Joe said, his voice low and tired.
“Okay, I could use some more of those when you get back here though,” you replied with a similar tone.
He kissed your lips gently before leaning further to place a kiss to your stomach. As if your heart couldn’t get any fuller, the sight before made it explode with love. Joe was such an amazing dad, like you knew he would be.
“I can’t believe we're gonna have another one, it feels like just yesterday you told me the first time.”
“I had a bit of prep time for that one, I had to get really creative this time since someone would get suspicious otherwise,” you joked, knowing how nosey Joe could be.
Joe laughed lightly as he walked towards the bathroom, “always keeping me on my toes huh?”
“Just doing my job” you said with a laugh, shaking your head.
While Joe was showering, your mind drifted back to that day that you told Joe he was going to be a dad.
Flashback
It was yours and Joe’s first Valentines together as a married couple and you planned to make it a memorable one. You’d spent a lazy morning together, basking in each other's touch with all of the time in the world. Some remained innocent, others not so much. The craziness that came along with Joe’s job as well as the holiday led you both opting for a romantic night in rather than fighting against the public eye. Joe wanted to cook for you, provide you with the “restaurant experience at home, but make it with love”. He always did like to go above and beyond.
It took some convincing, but Joe agreed to go out and get the ingredients for dinner tonight. He was reluctant to leave you, but you assured him things could continue when he got home. You wanted a little time to get ready and surprise him even if you were staying in. With him out of the house to run some errands before tonight, you had a small window to get everything done that you wanted to. Little did he know you had your own surprise up your sleeve, though it wasn’t really up your sleeve literally. 
You’d been feeling sick the past few days, having a gut feeling you knew why. You and Joe weren’t necessarily trying for a kid, but you also weren’t not. You wanted it to happen when it happened. The timeline seemed to fit, your next period being late which was a rarity for you at any other given time. Joe was always aware of your cycle, being able to track things better than you ever have. If your gut instincts were correct, you’d have to find a way to tell him ASAP or he’d know something was off.
You took a few tests you had on hand and sure as shit, you were pregnant. Tears of joy immediately filled your eyes, an indescribable feeling settling deep within you as you placed your hand against your stomach. You had always wanted to be a mom and now you got to have a child with the man of your dreams. Tears spilled down your cheeks at the thought of Joe being a dad. You couldn’t wait to tell him, not that you were ever good at keeping a secret regardless. You wanted to do something special though and what better day than the cliche day all about love.
You racked your brain with how you would tell him, wanting to plan the perfect surprise. You had picked up a few possible ideas for gifts to have on hand before you made a final choice. You knew you wanted it to be after dinner, no matter how much the wait would pain you. You grabbed a small gift bag from downstairs and got to planning. 
You put the test in first, knowing he would want to see it for himself if he didn’t get to be there in the moment. You had also ordered a custom onesie with “newest Bengals fan” embroidered on it when you first found out as a possible option. You figured he would find the idea cute as well, having expressed his excitement in the past. You finished it off with a card, a usual for each important day you guys shared, the difference being you had written in it the day you found out you were pregnant.
Feeling satisfied with your gift, you tucked it away where he wouldn’t be able to find it and peek. Your next step was setting up and decorating downstairs. You cleared the table and set it with two place settings, placing a few candles in the middle of the table for some mood lighting. You laid out a few things you knew Joe would need and wanted to make thighs a bit easier for him. When you felt that everything was to your satisfaction, you headed upstairs to get ready.
You had gotten a special lingerie set for tonight, slipping the red lacy number underneath your dress. It was a dainty two piece made of satin and lace, two of Joe’s favorites. The element of surprise with these types of things always drove Joe wild, being able to tell a set was new based on feeling alone. It wouldn’t be long after that he would take your clothes off to get a look at what you had picked out just for him this time. 
You curled your hair into loose waves, applying a light bit of makeup before deeming yourself happy with how you looked. You heard the door close downstairs, signally Joe was home. You felt a pit of excitement and nerves settle in your stomach. You had to take a few deep breaths, needing to manage your composure for a little while longer, wanting to wait for after dinner. 
You padded down the stairs, taking in the few decorations Joe had added to your ensemble. There was a beautiful bouquet of flowers in the middle of the table that he had placed in your favorite vase, the candles lit that provided a warm glow to the room. The kitchen smelled amazing as he cooked dinner. You walked to meet Joe in the kitchen, his eyes flicking up from the ingredients in front of him to meet your eyes.
“You look gorgeous, sweetheart,” Joe spoke while pulling your body into his embrace. Your arms fell naturally around his neck as you took him in.
“You clean up pretty well yourself, Joey,” you said as you took in his appearance. 
He must’ve gotten ready down here while you were upstairs. He had on a white collared shirt with some black slacks. It was simple, but he could make anything look amazing. He had the sleeves of his shirt pushed up to his elbows and your thoughts turned to any, but innocent.
“Go have a seat at the table and I’ll have dinner ready soon,” Joe said sweetly with a hint of lust in his voice. 
It was as if he could read your mind, his own thoughts wandering just as much as his gaze raked up and down your body. He brought you in for a kiss, placing a soft tap on your ass before turning back to the task at hand. You obliged with no questions asked, needing to keep a bit of distance if you wanted things to go according to your plan. Joe came to join you shortly after, bringing over a delicious smelling meal. Your stomach rumbled at the sight, excited to dive in together.
Conversation at dinner remained light, catching up on each other's days and reminiscing over memories together. Soft and suggestive touches were exchanged, your hand on his forearm or his grazes to your thigh. It was nice to spend such intimate time like this together, enjoying the slowness of the offseason for once. Dinner was delicious, devouring your plates singing Joe’s praises about his cooking. You worked together to clean up, blowing out the candles on the table and bringing the dishes to the kitchen.
After clearing the table, you settled on the couch to exchange your gifts with one another. Joe tucked you into his side, his need to have you touching him in some way evident in this moment. Your heart felt like it was beating a mile a minute, hoping the flush you felt creeping up your cheeks wasn’t noticeable. 
Joe insisted that you open his gift first, grateful to not have to push for that option. It would give you a second to calm down. You took the small wrapped box from his hands, a red bow tied delicately on the top. You pulled at the end, the bow slipping undone and revealing the top of the box. 
He had gotten you a gorgeous necklace, gesturing for you to spin around to clasp the delicate chain around your neck. You took the moment to take a deep breath, knowing this would be the moment your lives would change forever. You quickly fiddled with your phone while turned, setting it up to face Joe in hopes to get his reaction.
You unwrapped yourself from Joe’s body and stood to get your bag from its hiding spot. You handed it over to him, sitting back a bit to be sure that Joe was in the frame. You had to hold your emotions back until he opened everything.
“Read the card last this time,” you said as evenly as you could manage.
Luckily Joe obliged, even though he gave you a look of confusion. He pulled the tissue paper from the top of the bag, removing the card as well. He looked down at the clothing in the bag and took it out as if you had gotten him a new shirt. He began to unfold it, even more confused when there was barely any fabric. You watched at the look of realization set into his features as he read what it said. 
He looked at you in disbelief, the small onesie clutched in his hands. Tears immediately welled up in his eyes. He looked down into the bag and saw the test, the words ‘pregnant’ standing out against the bottom of the bag. When he looked back at you, there were streaks of tears that made their way down his cheeks, his body fighting back sobs.
“Are you serious? Because this would be a horrible prank to play on me right now,” Joe said as his voice wavered.
All you could do was nod in that moment, not trusting your voice as your own tears of joy streaming down your cheeks. He moved quickly, tracking you onto the sofa in a bear hug. You both let out cries of joy at your newfound titles. The reality of it all setting in for you now that you didn’t have to keep it a secret any longer.
“Oh my god, I’m gonna be a dad,” Joe whispered out as you locked eyes together while wiped the streaks of tears from your cheeks.
“You’re also gonna be amazing Joey,” you whispered back, stroking the tears from his face.
You both laid there for a while, basking in the moment wrapped up in each other.
“I really can’t believe it. I didn’t know my love for you could get any deeper, but I feel like my heart just grew in size. You’re an incredible woman and I can’t wait for you to be the mother of my child. You’ve already made my life so much better and I couldn’t imagine doing this with anyone else. I love you so much sweetheart, just how the grass is green and the sky is blue.”
You felt a new wave of tears fall from your eyes at his confession. You felt the exact same way, unable to form a coherent sentence through the sobs that had overtaken your body once again. You gripped Joe even tighter than before if that way possible and held him close, scared this moment would be too good to be true and slip away.
He moved down your body slightly to place a kiss to your stomach as his large hands gently rubbed where your bump would soon be forming, feeling your heart clench at his tender touch. He began to whisper something into your stomach, unable to make out everything he was saying except the words ‘baby burrow’, needing to taper your emotions or you’d be crying the rest of the night. With a final kiss to your stomach, he moved his way back up to meet your gaze, resting his forehead against yours.
“We’re gonna be quite the parent huh? Cute onesie idea by the way,” Joe complimented.
“Baby’s first Bengals gear, I had to. The amount of Bengals stuff I’m gonna have to wash now will be insane. You bet your ass this baby is gonna be spoiled by all of his ‘aunts and uncles’,” you laughed, referring to Joe’s teammates and your friends.
Your laughter caught in your throat as Joe’s hands moved from your face down to your collarbone. He brushed the strap of your dress off your shoulder, taking the opportunity to peer at your new set. You felt him harden above you at the sight, a deep groan vibrating from his chest. His hand skimmed it way further down your body and slipped up the front of your dress, feeling how wet you were through the fabric of your panties.
“I’ll read the card later, right now I need you underneath me so I can show you just how happy I am,” Joe spoke in a husky tone.
He scooped you up and carried you towards the stairs, causing you to burst into a fit of laughter. Joe planned to show you how much he loved you the best way that he knew how words not doing his feelings justice. Your usual intimate celebration got a lot more meaningful tonight. You’d also have to cut that video later.
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mylovesstuffs · 1 month ago
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OT13 reacting to their s/o giving birth
Request: Hello!! Can I request a Seventeen OT13 fluff/crack/comfort reaction to reader giving birth? Like for each member the member and reader react differently? Like reader having a hard time with wonwoo’s child because of his wide shoulders, Vernon being unfazed as usual as his wife screams at him, reader having no tolerance for pain and is panicking so Mingyu panics too, etc
A/N: I'm so sorry for keeping you waiting, anon. This took much longer than I expected. I actually finished writing it yesterday, but my draft got deleted, and I was so frustrated that I nearly cried. I had been working on this for a week while juggling other writing projects and a busy, stressful schedule. Instead of breaking down and giving up, I sat down and rewrote everything from memory. Since it was my second time writing it, I at least had a clearer idea of what I wanted to do. I knew that if I didn’t finish it now, it would end up delayed for another week or more, and I didn’t want that. Also, I pushed other queued requests back to finally get this one out since it should've been out earlier but I wasn't done with it. I really hope I did justice to your request! Thank you for your patience 💓
Seungcheol: To me it feels like his leader instincts kicking in like it’s a group comeback 😭 You’re physically drained and can barely push anymore, so Seungcheol will be holding your hand tightly, his voice steadying you: “Just one more, baby, you’ve got this. We’ll meet our little one soon.” On the inside, he’s panicking but doesn’t let it show because he knows you need his strength, "Breathe, babe, breathe!” Wait, should I breathe too?! Once the baby is born, he’s in tears, holding your hand like, “You did so well. I’m so proud of you.” and kissing your forehead. Then proceeds to take the title of Best Dad very seriously.
Jeonghan: “This is YOUR fault!” you scream at him as another wave of pain hits, and Jeonghan, instead of being offended, just grins cheekily, “I know, I know. But look at me—I’m right here. You’re doing amazing.” He is unfazed and mischievous, even while you're snapping at him but don't get me wrong. He's like, "It’s okay, just a little more!” while secretly panicking and muttering, How does one raise a tiny human? He just doesn't want to look panicked in front of you and scare you. When the baby arrives, he jokes, “Wow, this kid’s already prettier than me. Must’ve gotten it from me.” Yes, he's like that—but in a moment of seriousness, he looks at you with so much love, “You were incredible.”
Joshua: You’re crying softly, scared and overwhelmed, and Joshua immediately cups your face gently, “I know it’s hard, but you’re so strong. You can do this. I’ll be here the whole time.” He's very soft and attentive, the perfect mix of calm and emotional. He never leaves your side, murmuring prayers under his breath. Holds your hand and whispers comforting words the whole time, “You’re amazing, you’ve got this.” When the baby cries for the first time, he literally cries too, “This is the best day of my life.” He lets out a laugh of pure relief and joy as his face says, This is our miracle. He insists on singing the baby a lullaby immediately. Sunday morning rain is falling in form of lullaby
Jun: Wait, I think I need to sit down—oh no, wait, you’re the one doing all the work! Chaotic but sweet, Jun is trying his best to be strong for you, but his emotions are all over the place. You’re gripping his hand tightly, shaking your head, “I can’t do it, Jun. I really can’t!” his heart clenches at your words but he then immediately leans in, his eyes wide but sincere, “You’re already doing it. Look at me. One more push, and we’ll meet our baby.” The sheer trust and love in his gaze give you the last bit of strength you need. After the birth, he’s SO emotional, holding them like the most delicate thing in the world in complete awe with wide eyes, “Wow… they’re so small. Are you sure they’re ours?” He traces a careful finger along the baby’s tiny hand, his eyes softening even more. “They’re perfect… just like you.” His lips press a lingering, grateful kiss to your forehead before pulling back, his eyes shimmering. “I love you. Both of you.”
Hoshi: He's excited and maybe a little too energetic. Freaks out every time you make a noise, “IS IT TIME?!” even if you’re just asking for water. During birth, I feel like, his s/o will be yelling from the pain and accidentally yell at him too lol. “STOP TALKING, SOONYOUNG!” you shout during a particularly painful contraction, and he freezes, wide-eyed. “Okay, I’m sorry! I’ll be quiet—but I’m still here!” When the baby is born, he’s crying harder than you are, clutching your hand, “WE DID IT! I mean, you did it! I’M A PAPA TIGER! Look at our little cub!” while also jumping up and down yelling.
Wonwoo: Wonwoo is the reliable rock you need. You’re biting your lip, trying not to scream, and he notices your trembling. He leans closer, his voice soft, “It’s okay to let it out. I’m here for you, always.” He stays by your side, holding your hand, his thumb gently rubbing the back of it to soothe you. Every now and then, he murmurs, “You’re doing so well,” his voice laced with admiration and respect for his beloved. When the baby is finally born, he doesn’t say much at first—just stares in awe, holding them close with a small, amazed smile. After a long pause, he finally whispers, “So this is what pure happiness feels like.” Theb he looks at you, eyes full of love, and promises, “I’ll be the best dad. For both of you.”
Woozi: Stressed but trying not to show it. Internally writing 15 songs about his emotions while saying, “Do you need anything? Water? Ice? A new husband?” all while trying his best to keep his emotions in check for your sake but low-key failing. “It hurts so much!” you cry, and Jihoon, though visibly worried and internally panicking, keeps rubbing your back, “I know, love, I know. Just a little more, and it’ll be over. You’re stronger than you think.” Once it’s over, he’s stunned silent, staring at the tiny life in his hands in awe, whispering, “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to write anything more beautiful than this.” Then he looks at you, his voice soft: “You’re incredible.”
Dokyeom: Your overly enthusiastic cheerleader is trying his best. But when you let out a scream, “AUGH!” Seokmin yelps even louder, “ARE YOU OKAY?!” despite knowing full well that you’re not. He’s gripping your hand so tightly—probably too tightly and almost crying with you. “YOU’RE DOING GREAT. I’M SO PROUD OF YOU!” Then, mid-contraction, he suddenly panics, “Wait, do you hate me right now? I think you do.” You glare at him between deep breaths, and he flinches, “Okay! No talking! Got it!” When the baby is finally here, Seokmin completely loses it, his happy sobs are the loudest in the room. “We did it! Well, mostly you, but we did it!” He’s melting, practically sliding to the floor as he holds the baby, overwhelmed by joy. Someone has to hold him up before he turns into a puddle of emotions.
Mingyu: He’s the definition of chaos with a side of tears. “Why is it taking so long?!” you cry out, exhausted and frustrated, and Mingyu, who has been pacing non-stop—pauses for a second before nervously responding, “I don’t know, but I’m here! We’ll get through this together, I promise.” He’s trying so hard to be helpful, but his clumsy ass is in full force. “Do you need water, baby? A towel? Oh no, I dropped the towel! Wait, where’s the doctor—should I call someone?!” The moment the baby arrives, Mingyu’s emotions explode, he’s full-on sobbing, barely able to form words. “You’re amazing! Our baby is amazing!” He cradles the tiny newborn like the most precious thing in the world, holding on so tight that the nurses have to coax him into letting them check the baby. “No! They’re so tiny! So perfect! I’m NOT letting them go.” spoiler: he doesn't. they have the check the baby from his hold.
Minghao: Zen but emotional deep down. He’s by your side, reminding you to breathe like a yoga instructor, “Inhale, exhale, you’ve got this.” But you are still exhausted and losing focus during labor, “I can’t do it,” you mumble weakly, and Minghao immediately takes your hand, his calm voice grounding you: “Yes, you can. Focus on me. Deep breaths. You’re stronger than you know.” After the baby’s born, he holds them with the gentlest hands, his eyes full of tears. “You did so well,” he whispers, brushing hair out of your sweaty face. “This is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever experienced.” His face is all smiley with streaks of dry tears down his cheeks as he kisses your nose, “This is the start of a masterpiece. You’re amazing, my love. I love you”
Seungkwan: The most emotional and slightly dramatic of them all. “Are you okay? Is the baby okay? Am I okay?!” He’s running on pure nerves. The situation escalates quickly when you reach the peak of labor, and it’s similar to Hoshi’s. “STOP TALKING, KWAN!” you snap, breathless from the pain. He gasps dramatically, clutching his chest, “I’m just worried! But okay, okay, I’ll shut up!” He’s jittery, constantly checking on you, the doctors, and the monitors, whispering prayers under his breath. The moment the baby is born, all his anxiety vanishes, replaced by unfiltered joy. He holds the baby, bawling his eyes out, voice shaking as he says, “This is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” Then, looking at you with pure adoration, he sniffles, “I’m going to spoil them so much.”
Vernon: Surprisingly calm but mostly because he’s in shock. You’re gripping the bed rails so hard your knuckles turn white, trying not to scream, and Vernon, who notices how much you’re struggling, leans down, holding your hand. “You’re doing so great,” he says. “We’re so close, babe. Just a little more.” He doesn’t say much else, just keeps his grip firm, standing by your side like an unshakable pillar until you give birth while internally thinking, This is wild. When the baby is born, he stares at them for a long moment before finally saying, “Wow… we made this. That’s crazy.” But then, as he holds the baby, his normally neutral expression softens into something breathtaking. His heart eyes are fully showing— completely smitten, both with the baby and with you.
Dino: Our Dino is flustered but super supportive. “Do you need me to do anything? Tell me what to do—I’ll do it!” He’s hovering, heart racing, watching you struggle through the pain, and it’s breaking him. When you sob, “I can’t do it, Chan!” he nearly panics himself, but he quickly shakes his head and crouches beside you, rubbing your back. “Yes, you can,” he says firmly, “You’re the strongest person I know. Just a little more, I’m right here!” The second the baby arrives, his stress vanishes, replaced by pure joy. His grin is so wide it almost hurts. “I’m officially a dad! We’re parents now, love! Can you believe it?” He holds the baby with so much pride and tenderness, already making promises. “I’m going to be the fun parent. You’re going to have the coolest childhood ever, little one.” and holds their pinky.
433 notes · View notes
irndad · 10 months ago
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kiss me (under the milky twilight)- s.r.
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a/n: this took so long and i'm so sorry! based on this post- reader has an ex that she keeps running back to, and spencer just wants her to see him. fake dating and hijinks ensue. VERY long. 4.6k words!! thanks to @fadingplaidtrashpatrol for ur thoughts and ideas!! masterlist // ask
The unraveling begins on a Friday. 
This is one of the rare Fridays where a full weekend is staring back at them, and Spencer is immeasurably pleased at his plans. He’s rented a Russian old movie, and his best friend had agreed to sit next to him on his shitty old couch while he whispers translations in real-time.
He loves spending time with her, a little hedonistically. She’s so kind, warm in both spirit and disposition, and Spencer treasures the time he gets to spend with her. Her desk adjoins his, and so one might assume that he could tire of her presence, but there’s something a little addicting about her, something he tries to have as often as he can. 
On this fine evening, she’s wearing an oversized sweater tucked into jeans- her position is mainly out of the field, and so she takes full advantage of the dress-code flexibility. Lovely earrings hang around her face, adorning her lovely features like a frame. 
Spencer’s more than a little in love with her. 
This has never really been a convenient fact, but Spencer’s used to wanting things he can’t have. And it was never really feasible not to want her- anyone who’s ever been in her presence would know this. It’s a foreign feeling, looking over at someone he’s lucky enough to know, and wanting them enough for that desire to turn into fantasy. 
“Spencer!” She greets him warmly, standing up to do so- if this wasn’t a workplace, if she was meeting him at the cafe like they do on Wednesdays, or his home, like she often finds herself in whenever he invites her, Spencer is certain she would wrap her arms around him in an incredibly warm hug. 
Because they are in the BAU, she believes it is inappropriate to embrace this way (which Spencer would argue isn’t true, given the way Morgan and Penelope are with each other, but if he told her that, it might be a little too obvious how desperate he is for her to touch him.)
The way she beams at him almost makes up for the fact that he doesn’t get to hug her. 
“I got you something,” he says in lieu of a response, clutching the bag of muffins in one hand. He’d woken up early to get her to stop by her favorite bakery, and it was worth it to see that look on her face. No one’s in the office now, the day long finished, and they’re getting ready to walk to his place. He lives so close by, and he’s grateful for this fact when they walk together back to his place. 
She grabs the bag, and he’s just so endeared by her, the giddy expression written over her lovely face.
“Have I mentioned that I love you? Because I do. You need to marry me, immediately.” She says to him, eyes closed in bliss, and even though she’s clearly joking, Spencer finds himself preening at her praise- wouldn’t it be incredible if she meant that? It sounds so pretty in her voice. I love you. 
He beams back at her, in a way he hopes doesn’t betray how much he wants. 
“I’m glad you like them,” he says back, his heart in his throat. 
“I have some news that you are going to be incredibly mad at me about.” She says, and a crumb is on her painted lip, and fantasy of kisses that he cannot have enters Spencer’s mind before he can shake it away.
“I could never be mad at you.”
“I think I have to raincheck tonight,” she says almost sadly, her voice apologetic, as though she has no choice in the matter.
“Is everything okay?”
He had picked up her favorite snacks yesterday night, tidied up his apartment top to bottom. 
“Josh texted me- he’s going through something and he needs me to come over-“
“He doesn’t need you to come over.” 
He rarely interrupts her, and he usually isn’t capable of being upset with her. He’s not really even upset with her now, but this is so exhausting, watching her deal with this asshole. 
It is a continuous surprise to Spencer that someone like her can be in a position like this.
Through Spencer’s eyes, the idea that anyone can not be in love with her is almost an impossibility. It’s not even his bias alone that makes him think this- it’s the truth of her. 
Josh is an asshole finance bro who works in the city center, and Spencer hates him more than most serial killers. 
He’s fucking careless with the thing Spencer wants the most in the world. Josh knows what it’s like to be with her, to be the person to falls asleep with her in his arms.  
Sometimes when Spencer can’t sleep, which is quite often, he pictures her soft cheek on her chest, pictures what she would feel like entwined with his own body, legs tangled with his and her fingers in his hair. It’s a sacred thing, this image- even though it isn’t real, Spencer knows he values the imagination of her presence more than Josh gives his attention to the real thing. 
They’ve “gotten together” and ���broken up” and “started talking again” about 12 times respectively.
Spencer could kill him.
“Spence,” she sighs, shaking him out of his angry stupor, “please don’t be mad at me. He’s really going through something right now- he needs someone to be around. Besides,” she breathes out, “I can’t dump him. 
“Why is that?” He tries to temper his tone, but the memory of her mascara running down her cheeks as she sobs in his arms shoots through his mind, and manifests as a physical sharp pain in his chest. 
“That wedding is coming up,” she murmurs, looking down at her shoes. They’re scuffed, and Spencer thinks she might be embarrassed. Why should she be? He’s the asshole. “I told people I was going to have a date. Do you know how many people are going to be there, Spence? How many people are expecting me to bring my boyfriend?”
Her best friend is getting married. Spencer knows this because she’s told him, and told him gleefully when Josh had agreed to go with her. Spencer remembers thinking that he’d like to punch a wall.
Anyway. 
She’s the last of her friend group that’s not in a long term relationship, and in some twisted way, he kind of gets how Josh would be better than nothing, if you didn’t want to be seen as alone. 
“You don’t want to go alone.”
“Yeah, Spence.”
“I could go with you.”
It escapes his mouth without his permission, and he regrets it almost instantly. Because there’s no fucking way she’d go with him. He’s lanky and awkward and his blazers never fit and his ties are always tied wrong, and she’s beautiful and wonderful in ways he finds new ways to see everyday. He’s not a solution to her being worried about how she’s seen, he’d only make it worse-
“You would do that for me?” Her voice is small as she asks, and it shakes him out of his thoughts. He looks down at her, eyes softening at her lovely face. She looks touched, and he has to wonder, doesn’t she know?
He’d do anything for her. 
“Of course,” he breathes out, a nervous hand playing with the strap of his bag, “If it gets you to stop giving that asshole the time of day, I’d do it a million times.”
Her face shifts in a way he can’t read, and she swallows. 
“I can’t let you do that.”
“I want to,” he says, “Please. It would be fun, C’mon. You’re always saying I need to get out there and do things.”
“Being my fake boyfriend at my friend’s wedding is not getting out there and doing things,” she pouts, and his heart nearly jumps. It’s pathetic, but hearing her refer to him as her any kind of boyfriend is intoxicating. He wants to hear it, over and over. 
“It’ll be fun,” he says, touching her hand as it rests on the table, making intentional eye contact. She has been prettiest eyes. “C’mon, let me do this for you. I’m sick of this guy.”
She gulps again, an endearingly confusing gesture, and he finds the feeling a little desperate. Pick me, choose to be with me, even if it’s just pretend. 
“He’s going to be there anyway,” she breathes out biting her lip in a nervous gesture, “I- I’d owe you so much, Spence. It would make him jealous, I think.”
It’s a little hedonistic, how much he would enjoy that, he thinks. Someone would see her as his girl. He knows she might be doing this to get Josh’s attention, but still- the evening together seems like too lovely of a thing to turn down- too wonderful of a chance to not offer. He’d take a night of pretend over never getting to be with her at all. 
It’s enough to make him ignore that making Josh jealous is probably the reason she’s saying yes. 
“Okay, okay! Spencer, will you do me the honor of taking me to Julie’s wedding?”
“I would be honored. 
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The weeks approaching the wedding are a bit of sweet torture. She’d had the idea that they could practice, whatever that meant, and the memory of it lives in his mind rent free. They’d been watching the movie, already touchier than most would allow of best friends. (She’s his best, Spencer’s just the tiniest bit resentful of Julie). 
She’d been sitting next to him on his worn out couch, her legs thrown across his, and true to his word, he was whispering the translation along to the movie. She smiled at him, watching his mouth move instead of the movie, and he felt tingly under her stare. How wonderful and bright it is, to be under her gaze. He kept speaking even though she wasn’t watching, because he imagines that if he stops, she might look away. 
Then, she had held his hand. 
Grabbed it really, fingers lacing with his own, and Spencer’s brain had short circuited. She has soft hands, he had thought to himself, and it was about the only thing he could manage to think. 
“We should practice,” she had whispered, even though it was just the two of them in the lowlight of his home, “Y’know, so people believe us.”
He didn’t say that he’s pretty sure no one needed to be convinced he’s in love with her. 
“Sure,” he had nodded, and squeezed her hand, “I think that’s a great idea.”
So they’ve been practicing. 
This has been in equal measures wonderful and torturous. She walks with him to work on half the days, with her fingers twined with his own, and Spencer finds it intoxicating that any passerby would assume he belongs to her. 
More than he already does, anyway. 
Her affection is her own, just turned up to 11. She’s gorgeous- this is a fact that was not instrumental in his love of her, but ornamental- still, this is hard to ignore when she touches him as much as she does now. When she’s out with the team at the bar, she rests her hand on the small of his back- he preens every time at this. This is simple, her domesticity, her claiming his presence as her own- it’s more than nice, Spencer realizes. It’s wonderful, to be wanted by her. Even if it’s not real.
On this night, they’re celebrating. They caught the unsub before he’d been able to kill his first victim. This is a rarity in their field, and she’d given the interview that had gotten the confession. It’s the closest to field work she’d gotten, and they’re all celebrating their win. Her win. 
She looks like a figment of imagination, lovely in a way he literally cannot believe he didn’t conjure up in fantasy. Her favorite song is playing out of pure serendipity, and Spencer likes that word for her. She is serendipitous as a whole. 
“Do you want something to drink, honey?” The endearment feels warm and natural as it comes out of his mouth. His hand is resting on the small of her waist, and he knows he’s being egregious with the practice thing. But this is so nice, her leaning into him, one drink deep and touchier than she is tipsy, and he loves this. He loves that under this pretense, he gets to know what she feels like in his arms. 
He hands her the water before she gets to answer, and she happily sips it. 
“Are you proud of me, Spence?” Her voice is immeasurably fond and he drinks it in like a man starved. 
“Of course,” he smiles at her. I’m always proud of you, he thinks. “You did so well, love.”
He’s not used to endearments, but she showers him in them. Before their little pretending, too. Called him dove, honey, darling. Packed an emergency lunch in his go bag in case he forgot his. She’s such a good friend, and he wants to be her lover more with each breath. 
He tries to return them, now. 
“Good,” she says serenely, looking at him in a way that kills him, because he will never, ever kiss her. She can hold him, and look at him like that, and he will never get to be with her, “I think my cider is too sour,” she scrunches her nose, and his heart swoops. 
“I’ll get you something sweeter, baby.”
“Yeah you will!” He hears Morgan laugh, and he flushes bright red. No one seems surprised, by how touchy they’d been. Even Hotch- he’d expected a talk, but then got a stern nod of understanding in its stead. 
She sips the sweet drink he got her, a little cherry on the step, and he thinks he’d do anything to keep looking at her. 
Five weeks to the wedding. 
He can do this. 
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“Could you do me a favor, Garcia? I come bearing gifts.” 
Spencer’s snuck into her office- there’s not much to do today, but she hadn’t wanted to take PTO for no reason, so here she is, in her feathered and pink glory. 
“Is that a hot chocolate? From Dominicks? Ooh, you play dirty, Dr. Reid.” Penelope almost squeals, and despite his nefarious purposes, he finds himself joyful- it’s alwaysgood to talk to her. 
After a joyful, eyes closed and serene sip, she asks, “Alright, my sweet furry friend, what can I do for you?”
“Could you check on a Josh Collins for me?”
“Isn’t that your girl’s ex?”
“No,” Heat rises to his cheeks, before he can help it. “She’s not my girlfriend.”
“Oh, and my favorite color is black.” Penelope scoffs back, but begins typing furiously anyway. 
He needs to know what is so fascinating about this guy. Because lately he can’t figure it out. He’s always fucking hated the guy, even though he’s never met him. He never had to- she’d shown up enough times at Spencer’s door crying, been broken up with and brought back enough to know that this guy is awful. Doesn’t even come close to deserving the woman that she is. 
“He’s a financial analyst at a Marketing firm, went to state school for his Bachelor’s, says here that he played football in college, but I don’t think they met until after,” she says, “Oh, he has a scuba license. And skydiving! Looks like he’s a bit of an adrenaline junkie.”
It’s an evil thought. Is that what she likes? He finds it hard to imagine, picturing the moments where she’s wrapped up in his arms on a movie night- that always seemed to be her preference. In, not out. 
“Is that him?”
There’s a picture of him on Penelope’s screen. Josh is chiseled and strong, smiling brightly in a polo on a jet ski- this is a photo posted on his social media, and Spencer has met a million of this guy. They bullied him in school. Spencer as genius and he’s a lot of things, but that will never be one of them. It’ll never, ever be him. 
Good to know, anyway. Better not to fantasize about what he knows he can’t have. 
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On the day of the wedding, it’s actually a 6 hour drive. She’d offered to get them plane tickets, but he enjoyed his time with her. He was also desperate to extend the time until the wedding was over, and she’s probably the only person he wants to be trapped in a car with. 
They’re sharing a hotel room. She’s booked two beds, which he’s honestly grateful for- if they’d shared a bed, he might’ve combusted. 
Still, there is so much intimacy. She sings in the shower. He imagines a world where he’d know that in domesticity, where after a night spent in laughter and something like love, she showered in his home. But that’s not how he knows it. He knows it because he’s at her best friend’s wedding, pretending to be her boyfriend. 
When she comes out of her bedroom, she’s gorgeous. 
She’s got a green and purple dress on, a cinched waist and a sweetheart neck, a dash of plum lipstick on her lovely pout, and he’d like to kiss that smile very, very much. She’s a delicate kind of lovely, saturated in sweetness, and it’s sweet torture to have her this close.
“You look...” He struggles to find words, an uncommon occurrence in his life, “Like a vision.”
It’s sentimental and warmer than he wished he sounded, but god- she’s stunning. She looks like she’s made of old film, beautiful in that way that’s just a bit too good to be true. He adores her more with each breath.
“You think it’s okay?” She speaks to him with her doe eyes adorned with a concerned expression. He wants to kiss it away.
“You look lovely,” he says, a vast underselling.
The ceremony is a lovely affair, and Spencer learns that she cries at weddings. The bride and groom have lovely, saccharine vows, and Spencer tries not to picture a wedding that he will never get to have. 
It’s a little bit impossible with her at his side. 
She’s touchier now, even mores then when they were ‘practicing’. Her hands are warm laced with his own, her head leaning on his shoulder, and he feels lucky to have even a piece of getting to be with her. 
At the reception, she is tackled by her friends, and he performs dutifully as the caring boyfriend. It’s not hard.
It’s a lovely night. His arms glued to the small of her waist, and he’s been introduced as her “genius FBI agent boyfriend” many times tonight. He turns bright red every time. 
“This is my boyfriend, he’s the smartest ever,” she brags when she’s half a drink deep, and he cherishes the ability to draw circles on the small of her back in this moment- his words fail him in moments of praise, and touch is an avenue that he is rarely allowed to use.
“I don’t believe that intelligence can be accurately quantified-“
“Which is a thing that humble geniuses say.” 
So he’s having a great tine. 
Her lipstick is transfer-free, and his cheek is proof. She’s so affectionate his heart keeps doing somersaults. There’s a signature cocktail with some pun in the couples name.
“I’m fucking obsessed with these, Spence,” she says, a light airiness to her voice that he recognizes as her tipsy voice, “Can you get me another, my love?”
“Yes, honey.” He smiles at her, and kisses the crown of her hair before leaving her in the company of her friends. He’s indulging a bit too much, he’s aware. He’s going to have to give up this up when the sun rises, like some fucked up fairytale where Cinderella never gets the guy because she’s not worthy of it without the pretense.
“Could I get the house cocktail?” Spencer asks the bartender, flashing a smile at her with the giddiness of knowing he will return to her.
Spencer had nearly forgotten that part of the reason he was here was because of Josh. 
Who is at the bar.
“Hey man- you’re the dude she brought, right?” 
Josh is actually about 2 inches shorter than Spencer, and Spencer makes the most of this difference. He’s a broad chested muscle man, but he looks woefully underwhelming. 
“Yeah, I’m the lucky guy.” Spencer replies in a deadpan tone, turning to face him with a stony expression. 
“Careful, man,” Josh says, and it’s a little pathetic how he’s trying to pretend he doesn’t care, “She’ll chew you up and spit you out.”
“Really? Because it seems like you’d leave a bad taste in anyone’s mouth.”
“Whatever, dude. It’s clear that she just brought someone to make me jealous.”
“Actually, while I can’t read her mind, I imagine you’ve slipped hers entirely. Clearly your entire energy is based in whatever ego-driven shell your youth has shaped you into- and maybe one day someone will care enough about whatever tragedy made you the way you are, but I am deeply uninterested, and I’d wager she is too.”
He’s not sure if this is true, but Spencer’s noticed that in the time since their ruse has begun she hasn’t mentioned Josh. Not once. She might not love Spencer,  but she might not see Josh anymore. 
“Also, if you ever speak disrespectfully of my girlfriend again I promise you it will not end well for you.”
His voice is even and has an underlaying of quiet rage. It’s wonderful to call her that, even more so as she enters into his eye line.
“You looked mad,” she says in lieu of a greeting, her nimble arms wrapping around his waist with fluid ease, “Is everything okay?” 
It’s only then she sees Josh, and there’s something wonderful about knowing that she came here to check on him. Josh is about to say something, he can tell even though he’s only visible in the corner of his vision. 
It’s a calculated risk but he chooses to do it anyway. 
When he kisses her, he doesn’t know what to expect. It falls into line like puzzles into place, one of her hands falling to his waist and the other cradling his jaw with a delicate softness. She leans into him totally and this is an intoxicating feeling- her lips are so, so soft and it’s what he’s been fantasizing about since she first smiled at him and asked him to keep going when he was rambling about Russian literature. 
It’s actually better. 
When she pulls back, she scans the space. Josh is gone.
“Well that had the intended effect,” he says- it seems better than anything else, like confessing that the only reason he did it was that he could. He kissed her. 
She nods, clearly a bit frazzled, and fuck-
“I should have asked, fuck, I’m sorry-“
“No, no, you’re okay, um-thanks for getting rid of him.”
Her voice is hollow. 
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Despite the awkwardness of the kiss, which Spencer cannot stop thinking about.
Did he imagine it, or did she lean in? Did she sigh into it? How is he going to ever get over the fact that he’s never going to do that again?
Her lipstick is grape flavored. Now they both know that. 
They get back to the hotel at half past midnight, and she’d been a little distanced- not so much they still didn’t look like a couple, but enough that Spencer knows. They’re winding down the artificial love affair, and all of the things he’s become kind of addicted to are going to go away. Her fingers running through the tendrils of his hair, her delicate fingers rubbing tiger balm on his temples when he’s got his migraines. Her cheek kisses, the honeys, my loves, sweethearts. 
Kissing her. 
When she drops her bag on the hotel bed and sits on the edge of it, he sits next to her. She’s been quieter, since the kiss. 
“Hey.”
“Hey back,” she replies, bumping her knee with his in fondness. 
“I’m sorry I surprised you with, you know.”
“Kissing me?”
“I should have asked- I’m sorry.”
“I’m not upset that you kissed me,” she says, looking down at her shoes, “I’m upset that you only did it because you wanted to spite Josh.”
“What?”
“I know that this is my problem, Spence,” she says, “You never… led me on, you know? I know that this was always my thing to deal with. Being in love with you was never something that I thought would be a problem. But when you offered to go with me- to pretend to be my boyfriend, how could I pass that up?”
This makes no sense.
“I know,” she runs her fingers through her hair in a frustrated motion, “I know that it was never a good idea. But the idea of getting to be with you was just too much to turn down, even it it wasn’t the real thing. And now we’re going back to normal and I promise that I will go back to being your friend. It might take me a second, though-I might need some space.”
She needs space from him? Because she can’t transition away from being his fake girlfriend?
“You don’t need space from me.”
He’s so fucking bad at talking. 
“Spencer-“
“No, no,” because now he has a shot- now  there’s a reality where the pit in his chest doesn’t have to live there forever. He can be with her. Because for some crazy, insane reason, she wants him. “You don’t need space from because I don’t want space from you, okay?”
He sits next to her on the bed, eyes a little crazed with want with nowhere to go. 
“I’m not sure what you mean.” Her voice is tempered, and he thinks he hears hope. 
“I love you. I am in love with you. I’ve been in love with you as long as I’ve known you,” he grabs her hand-it feels desperate to say and he sure he sounds it, “I didn’t kiss you because I wanted to spite him. I did it because I couldn’t live with the idea that I would spend the rest of my life never have kissed you.”
He probably would say more- so many things are coming to mind, most of which are pleading. She’s the only thing he’s ever wanted this much. Before he gets to, though, she kisses him. 
It’s sudden, as all things of this nature are, but he pulls her close on instinct. She ends up on his lap, her hands around his neck, and it is so rare that fantasy lives up to reality. But this is better, the feeling of the weight of her pressed against him and the taste of her grape lipstick. 
It’s a minute when she pulls back, and it takes everything to not chase the contact.
“I love you too,” she says, the sweetness of it dripping from the sound of it. He wants to hear it again, and again, and again.
“For real?”
“For real.” 
When the run rises in the morning that follows, he’s wrapped around the length of her like a vice, right and close to him, Her head rests on his chest, and while there is another bed there, it’s clearly not seeing any use.
He’s never slept better in his life. 
1K notes · View notes
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hi!! can i request carmy berzatto #16, t? 🤭
Finders, Keepers.
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16. "Is that my shirt?" + t. Roommates
Author's Note - this is written as part of my 500 Followers Celebration!! find that post here if you're interested. my first time writing for beautiful angel boy carmy <3
Pairing - Carmen Berzatto x Female Reader
Age Rating - 18+
Warnings - smut!! + cursing
Word Count - 1185
Masterlist. 500 Follower Celebration Masterlist.
The Roommate Collection.
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Having Carmen Berzatto as a roommate is a blessing and a curse.
It's a blessing for many reasons. He's kind, thoughtful, considerate. He cooks, he cleans, he loads the dishwasher correctly. He's fairly quiet, he respects your boundaries, he always lets you choose the movie to watch. He's perfect in every way, really.
He's perfect in every way. That's the curse.
He's the most attractive man you've ever laid your eyes on. And he cooks. And he cleans. And he's the best roommate you could ever ask for. You're convinced anyone would struggle not to fall in love with him. Anyone.
You've fallen victim to the Berzatto charm. As much as you'd love to tell him, you don't want to ruin this good thing the two of you have. It's not worth it. So, you keep your mouth shut, and your eyes glued to his perfect face whenever he's not looking. It's sometimes painful, but it works.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
You're woken up bright and early by someone knocking on your bedroom door.
"I'm making breakfast. Lesson, or nah?"
Before you met Carmy, you couldn't really cook. Sure, you knew the basics, but he's opened you up to all sorts of new techniques and flavours. Whenever he starts to prepare a meal, he'll ask you if you want a lesson. Sometimes, you'll say no, content to watch him do his thing in the kitchen. More often than not, you'll say yes, allowing him to talk you through what he's doing and why. He explains everything step by step, always ensuring he's thorough but never patronising. These little cooking lessons allowed the both of you to get to know each other, bonding you together.
"Yeah, sure!" you call through the door, still half asleep. "Give me a minute."
You hear him turn the coffee maker on, the sounds of mugs clinking together filling the kitchen.
You stumble out of bed, grabbing around for something to wear. You find a dark grey t shirt on the chair and throw it over your head haphazardly. Pulling some socks on to tackle the morning chill, you run your fingers through your hair before making your way through the apartment.
Carmy's wearing his navy plaid pyjama pants and a white t shirt that hugs his biceps just right. His hair is sticking up in all directions, and it takes everything in you not to reach out and fix it into place.
"Morning, sweetheart," he says without turning around. "What do you want for breakfast, pancakes or waffles?"
"Hmmm," you debate. "Waffles, I think."
"Waffles it is."
Carmen turns around from where he's been brewing the coffee, and almost falls over. You're stood leaning against the counter, hair mussed and eyes still sleepy. Your legs are on full display, socks ending just above your ankle, skin glowing in the morning light. You smell like warmth and a golden sunrise. Carmy holds onto the mug in his hand like his life depends on it.
"Coffee," he stutters, handing it to you. You cross the kitchen and take it from him, kissing him on the cheek as a thank you. You both pretend not to notice the way heat blooms up his chest at the action.
The longer he looks at you, the more he can't put his finger on what it is that's driving him insane. There's something different about you this morning, and it's got him riled up. His eyes rake over your body once, twice, three times before he figures it out.
"Is that my shirt?"
You look down to find that yes, it is. You must have picked it up from the pile of clean laundry he did yesterday accidentally.
"Oh, shit. Sorry, Carmy."
"No, it's okay. You look... you... it's - fuck."
You've never seen his brain short circuit like this, and you're not entirely sure what's happening.
"Are you... alright, Carmy?"
"God," he groans. "Stop saying my name like that."
"... like what?"
"Like... fuck. You say it so fuckin' pretty."
He has a look in his eyes you've never seen before. It's almost animalistic. He looks feral.
He strides over to you, cradling your face in his calloused hands. He presses his forehead to yours, and exhales shakily.
"Will you let me taste you, honey?" he murmurs.
Your breath catches in your throat, and your knees go weak. It's a good job he's holding you up.
"Please," he practically begs. "I'll make you feel real good."
You answer him by smashing your lips to his, hands fisting in the front of his shirt. He kisses you back with vigour, tongues tangling and mouths melding. You moan and he swallows it, committing the sound to memory.
Carmy walks you backwards and hoists you up onto the edge of the kitchen table, before dropping to his knees. He looks debauched, knelt in front of you with wide eyes and swollen lips. You think he's never looked prettier.
He starts by kissing up from your ankles to your thighs, building the tension expertly. You're practically vibrating with anticipation, desperate to feel him where you need him most. Your underwear is soaked through, and you're convinced you're going to go insane if he doesn't get his mouth on you soon.
As if he's reading your mind, he nudges his nose against your covered core, inhaling. He groans at your scent, and it's the filthiest thing you've ever seen. He pulls your underwear down in one quick swoop, looking up at you carefully. You grab the hem of your shirt, ready to pull it over your head, but Carmy stops you.
"Leave it on," he mutters. "Please."
You nod your head, and he takes that as confirmation. He dives into you, lapping you up like a man parched. He's nipping, biting, suckling at you as if he's done it a thousand times before. You prop yourself on your elbows, giving you the perfect view of this perfect man in this perfect situation. He's so eager to please you it makes your heart and your core ache.
"Fuck," he groans. "Sweetest thing I've ever tasted."
He slips two fingers into you with ease, and your back arches. You're writhing, moaning on every out breath, struggling to inhale. Is there anything this man can't do?
You can feel your orgasm building, warm and persistent in your stomach. Carmy can too.
"Come on, honey," he begs. "Give it to me. I want it. Let me have it."
You're not sure if it's his dulcet tone or the way his fingers curl on every upstroke, but you fall apart, hips keening and back canting. You whine his name and he groans, low and deep.
"There we go," he's muttering. "Good girl. That's it. Atta girl."
When he's satisfied you're satisfied, he stands up and kisses you again, allowing you to taste yourself on his bitten lips.
"No Michelin star dish is ever going to compare to that," he teases against your mouth. You both laugh, giddy off of each other.
"Shut up," you giggle. "Now, are we making waffles, or what?"
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wileys-russo · 1 year ago
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maternal instinct II a.russo x reader
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maternal instinct II a.russo x reader
"you're sure you don't want us to stay? cook dinner? help unpack? provide general love and company? we're more than happy to lessi!" beth pressed as alessia smiled at her friends and now club teammates.
"yes. i promise i'll be fine, we've got tomorrow off and i'll unpack then. i love you all very much but i'm exhausted!" alessia chuckled tiredly as her friends nodded in understanding. "well call us if you need anything yeah? anything." leah pushed as alessia nodded, opening the door for them.
"do you want us to come over tomorrow night? i'll cook!" lotte offered making alessia laugh as they hovered by the door. even more of the girls having helped her alongside her family and the movers today alessia's social battery was nearing zero, so as much as she appreciated everyones love and concern, she really just needed the time to recharge.
"i will speak to you all tomorrow, goodbye!" alessia hinted heavily, her friends hugging her and finally taking off toward the elevators as the blonde stood in her doorway and waved them off as still they lingered for a moment.
her lips curled into a smile and she shook her head as leah was finally pulled into the elevator, hanging around as if alessia might change her mind, her hand shooting out to wave before beth smacked it back inside and the doors closed.
"rawr!" alessia jumped a foot in the air and slipped, crashing down to the floor with a groan and a wince. "oh my god isabella!" she heard an unfamiliar voice hiss as footsteps thumped over and a hand extended to help her up.
"i am so so sorry." alessia found herself speechless as she was pulled up and faced the new voice, met with a gorgeous stranger who looked as though she couldn't have been too dissimilar in age to alessia herself.
"she learned what a practical joke is at school last week and she thinks its hilarious to scare people, nearly gave the poor elderly gent four doors down a heart attack yesterday." the stranger sighed and thats when alessia noticed the tiny girl hidden behind her leg, peering out every now and then.
"its okay, really. i was born with two left feet so it doesn't take much for me to hit the floor." alessia joked, rubbing her tailbone which she was sure would be bruised tomorrow from the impact. "well i'm still very sorry, its hardly very welcoming when your new neighbours have you tumbling over to the floor, you just moved in today right?" the girl smiled kindly as alessia nodded.
"i promise its no problem, i'm alessia." the blonde held her hand out as you introduced yourself and shook it. "this is isabella" you nodded down to your five year old daughter hidden behind your leg.
"bella say hi and say sorry for scaring alessia please." you requested softly, hand gently guiding your daughter out from behind you as alessia squatted down, well aware her height wouldn't help the young girl feel any less intimidated.
"hi, sorry for scaring you." the girl mumbled, still clinging onto your leg as she glanced up at alessia with a shy smile. "thats okay, i've got two big brothers and i liked to scare them when i was your age too." alessia grinned, bellas smile widening at her words.
"its very lovely to meet you, i like your shoes." alessia pointed downward before shuffling a little so the girl could see she was sporting the same ones.
"woah your feet are huge!" bella gasped with wide eyes, bending down to poke at alessia's trainers making her laugh as you winced. "sorry! she's not got much of a filter, i'm working on it." you sighed with a small chuckle as alessia pushed up to stand again.
"hey honesty is the best policy right?" alessia joked kindly as bella continued to poke at her shoes and you gently pulled her away.
"well we'll leave you to settle in but welcome to the building! i'm sure we'll see you around alessia." you gave her another smile and turned back toward your own apartment, the blonde grinning as isabella gave her an enthusiastic wave before sprinting inside.
~
and indeed it wasn't very long before alessia saw either of you again.
"oh shit! no no no." alessia panicked, feeling around in her pockets and shaking her bag but coming up empty, suddenly having a vision of her keys where she'd left them on the counter this morning, too used to having them connected to her car key but not having gotten around to it with this new set just yet.
grabbing out her phone she called the building manager, huffing when it instantly went to voicemail and didn't even allow her to leave one. wracking her brain for what her next move could be she tapped her foot and flicked through her contacts, though no one would really be able to help her unless they were a locksmith.
so with a sigh she left her bag by her door and moved to stand in front of yours, raising her fist and knocking a few times. but when there was no answer she turned away assuming you weren't home, barely making it a few steps before the door clicked.
"alessia?" you called out curiously, the blonde turning with a sheepish smile. "i'm really really sorry to bother you, but i've locked myself out and i can't get through to mr brooks." alessia rubbed the back of her neck, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.
"he'll be playing poker, turns his phone off on saturdays. does anyone have your spare?" you chuckled, alessia shaking her head. "its still inside. with moving in and settling in at my new club and trainings and media appearances i haven't had a chance." alessia groaned, throwing her head back as you gave her a look of sympathy.
"look i'm well aware we were all taught about stranger danger in school, but would you like to wait inside? i've got a number for a good locksmith, he works weekends he might just take a few hours if he's got other jobs." you offered kindly, alessia stuttering out that she didn't want to be a bother.
"you wouldn't be, i promise. i just made lunch and there's more than enough for two." you assured, opening your door wider and gesturing for her to join.
"i don't bite! i promise." you joked, a smile curling onto the taller girls lips as she finally accepted the offer, grabbing her bag and stepping inside your apartment.
"bella's at her dads." you answered while dishing you both up a bowl, alessia not needing to ask but clearly noting the lack of your daughter. "alessia you can sit down." you laughed at how awkward she seemed, finding it quite endearing and a tiny bit cute.
"my friends call me less, or lessi." alessia clarified, leaving her bag by the door and taking a seat at your dining table. "we're friends already? maybe that stranger danger lecture hasn't sunk in for you." you teased with a grin, alessia's face blushing bright red.
"no! i didn't mean that sorry i just meant-" the blonde rambled as you placed the bowl of pasta down in front of her. "i'm only teasing, less." you smiled, taking a seat across from her and nodding for her to eat, the girl declining your offer of a drink.
~
"nah i just don't know if i can get over that." alessia denied with a firm shake of her head as you playfully swatted at her arm, the two of you now sat much more comfortably on your lounge getting to know each other.
"i was five! i didn't know any better." you laughed, snatching back the photo from her grip which showed a much younger you sat on your fathers shoulders at a liverpool game, jersey on and face painted.
"you can ask you know." you smiled knowingly as alessia's eyes hovered on a picture of you and bella when she was just a baby, bundled up in a bright blue blanket stitched with tiny pink flowers your mother had made.
"ask what?" alessia questioned with a confused frown. "about her, being a teen mum is interesting to everyone. you're just too polite to acknowledge it unlike most other people." you smiled as alessias cheeks flushed red, wondering if you had some sort of mind reading power.
"i didn't-i wouldn't want to-" alessia stammered out quickly. "you wouldn't, i promise. there's not much i've not been asked before really." you assured gently as alessia nodded, more as if to reassure herself than assure you.
"how old were you?" the blonde asked after a short pause had passed. "eighteen when i fell pregnant, nineteen once i gave birth. yes it was an accident, no i didn't know her dad before we got drunk and slept together. we were young and stupid, the condom broke and i told him it was fine!" you rolled your eyes at your own reckless decision.
"so he's..." alessia trailed off, clearly still feeling a little awkward which made you chuckle. "he's in the picture. he's a good guy and a good dad but like i said we didn't know each other. naturally he freaked out when i told him, i didn't hear from him for a few months but i also didn't expect anything from him." you shrugged.
"my parents were actually much more supportive than i thought. it took me the longest to tell them because i was scared but they promised no matter what i chose they'd support me, and it meant more than they'll ever know." you smiled softly at the memory as alessia hung off your every word.
"so he came back into the picture, his parents took a little more convincing but between all of us we came up with a plan before she was even born. we alternate weekends and given i work at her school and live closest to the doctors and our parents she lives with me most of the time, but he takes her on tuesday and thursday afternoons and we communicate when things don't work or if he wants to see her more." you explained as alessia nodded.
"that sounds really healthy." the blonde observed, leaning her head on her hand, elbow pressed into the back of the lounge. "did the two of you ever try and-" alessia clearly struggled to find the right words making you smile.
"we both just want whats best for her. we established pretty early on that we're absolutely not each others person but we are hers, and she comes first always." you answered as now alessia smiled softly, clearly seeing how much you cared for your daughter.
your conversation stilled as there was a few sharp knocks at the door clearly in some sort of intended pattern, and seeing the curious look on alessia's face you chuckled. "i'd love to say thats the locksmith but that'll be bella." you smiled, standing up to your feet and making your way over to the door.
you'd barely opened it a few centimetres before your daughter was wiggling her way through and crashing into you, tightly hugging your leg and making you laugh.
alessia watched on fondly from the lounge, a smile curling into her lips as she watched the interaction, a few words exchanged between your ex and yourself confirming arrangements for next week before bella noticed the new person on the lounge.
"big feet!" your daughter chirped in greeting as you closed the front door and your cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. "bella! that is not her name." you told her off flashing alessia an apologetic wince who waved it off, grin on her face.
"why are you here?" bella asked curiously, climbing up onto the lounge and settling herself next to alessia, wiggling around to get comfortable. "i did something very silly and i locked my keys inside my house!" alessia smacked her hand against her forehead with a scoff making bella giggle.
"did your dad feed you or is the monster in your stomach hungry bel?" you called out, her head popping up over the back of the lounge. "mmm dad fed me. but not the monster, the monsters hungry!" bella announced as you hummed in understanding.
"and what is the monster hungry for?" you questioned with an amused smile. "alessia whats your favourite sandwich?" bella turned to the footballer beside her who looked caught off guard. "oh gosh um, ham and cheese?" alessia spoke out the first thing which came to mind.
"ham and cheese please! one for the monster and one for big feet." bella answered with a concise nod as you sighed at the nickname but found yourself relieved as alessia only laughed.
"so bella, tell me about this monster in your tummy. how on earth did it get in there?"
~
"snap! i win." bella cheered happily, jumping around with a grin as alessia groaned dramatically, collapsing back into the lounge with a playful frown.
"you are just too fast! i didn't even see your hand move. do you have super powers?" alessia tutted with a shake of her head as you smiled, admittedly melting at how easily she seemed to get along with your daughter.
"its cause the monsters brain and my brain mash together and make one huge brain so i'm really fast and strong and smart! but its okay you're not very good at this game." bella explained, patting the strikers knee apologetically for the loss making you laugh and alessia jokingly shove at your shoulder.
the game was interrupted by another few knocks at the door, bella climbing back onto the lounge to continue chattering away to alessia as you stood to answer.
"all fixed." you smiled as paul handed you the new key, seeing alessia's door had been opened. "thank you! i'll just go-" you turned as the older man quickly shook his head. "don't be silly love. i owed your dad a favour anyway, tell him its paid up." he promised as you thanked him and offered a tea or coffee, paul apologizing stating he'd have to leave, needing to run off to another job.
thanking him again you waved the man off and closed your door. "good news! you're in." you smiled, holding the key up as alessia exhaled a deep sigh of relief. "thank you so much, wait where did he go? i didn't even pay!" alessia panicked as you quickly reassured her it was fine.
"he owed my dad a favour, break in was free of charge." you teased lightly, handing her the key as the colour returned to her face. "thank you again, and for letting me potato it out on your lounge all afternoon. i hope you didn't have any plans?" alessia worried as you shook your head.
"none at all, really it was lovely getting to know you a bit better. bella and i haven't really met many people in the building, i know she can be...a lot sometimes." you put lightly, glancing at your daughter over alessia's shoulder where she sat on the floor making two of her dolls wrestle one another.
"no way, i wish i was half as cool as she is when I was her age." alessia laughed, hand squeezing your knee in reassurance before she stood. "but i should really get out of your hair. thank you for lunch too! i'd love to return the favour if you and bella would like to come over for dinner sometime?" alessia offered with a kind smile.
"we would!" bella answered before you could, appearing between the two of you suddenly with a grin as you rolled your eyes fondly. "well you're both more than welcome." alessia promised, bending down to isabella's height with a grin that matched hers.
"thanks for playing with me big feet!" alessia nearly fell backward as the five year old threw her arms around her neck in a tight hug before racing off and leaving you shaking your head after her as alessia pushed back up to her feet.
grabbing her bag alessia stepped outside as you gave her a smile so warm it nearly bowled her back over again, the blonde finding herself lingering on your doorstep despite her own apartment being a mere few feet away.
"um. could i maybe grab your number? so we can organise dinner!" alessia clarified quickly, her ears flushing pink as a hundred worries that she'd make you uncomfortable rushed to the forefront of her mind.
this wasn't like her, she didn't ask for strangers numbers and spend hours in their apartments and invite them over for dinner. and yet, here she was doing all of that and finding herself near praying you'd say yes.
"sure." you nodded happily, holding your hand out for her phone which alessia hurried to tug out of her pocket, unlock and and place down gently into the palm of your outstretched hand.
watching as you added in your number and handed it back to her, the two of you fell into a few beats of comfortable silence, exchanging a smile which seemed to be a wordless farewell.
"wait!" alessia paused as she was turning to head back to her own apartment, watching bella wiggle her way out of of the half closed door. "here." she held out a small pink and blue braided bracelet up to the striker.
"so you can put your key on it and wear it so you don't lock it inside again!" the five year old smiled, patting alessia's leg before racing off back into the apartment. "thank you!" alessia called out with a tender smile, sending you a nod which you returned with a soft smile before your apartment door closed and alessia turned to head into her own.
~
"and then you have to make sure there's lots of flour on the board." alessia instructed as bella nodded and you watched on with a smile, the two in your kitchen making both dinner and a mess.
the dinners had become sort of an unspoken routine, the first one at alessias house running so late that bella had wound up taking a much needed nap in alessia's spare room while the two of you spoke for hours and hours.
since then you found yourself in her kitchen or her in yours at least once a week, alessia one of the most patient women you'd ever met as she made sure to include your daughter in all of the cooking, keeping an eye nearly as watchful as yours on her energetic five year old sous chef.
you'd of course taken charge more than once and cooked for her, but you noticed that alessia genuinly enjoyed cooking for others, and you would always notice the clear joy in her eyes when you and bella clearly expressed how good her cooking was, your daughters tummy monster rapidly becoming her biggest fan.
"then we carefully use this little roller and we roll and roll and roll, and look! it cuts the pasta into little shapes." alessia explained, her hand guiding isabella's which was clamped around the tool, the girls face ablaze with wonder.
"woah! so cool." bella exhaled, eyes wide as you met alessia's gaze with a soft smile, your cheeks becoming a little warm as the taller girl sent you a wink and turned her attention back to your daughter.
you'd be lying to yourself if you said you hadn't noticed that maybe you might harbour some more than friendly feelings for your blonde neighbour, but you were also very used to squashing these and compartmentalizing what your priorities were.
"does the monster want red sauce or green sauce?" alessia asked, pulling a face and making bella giggle from where she sat on the counter swinging her legs to and from.
"red." bella paused as if to consult with the imaginary gremlin inside her before deciding as alessia smiled at the sight. all it had taken was one joke that your daughters appetite must be because she had a monster living in her tummy and she'd ran with it, proudly telling everyone and anyone about her new best friend.
you left them to it and turned your attention to the report cards scattered across the dining room table, all that was left was to check you'd covered everyone in your class and sign it off and your weekend would be stress free.
what you failed to notice though was that as much as you'd sneak a glance at alessia every now and then with a soft smile, the moment you'd look back away she was doing the same, feelings which matched yours fluttering away in her stomach but unsure what to do about them.
the decision came later that night when bella had been tucked in and was long asleep, much to her demands that she should be allowed to stay up and join your 'girls night' because she was a big girl and she didn't have school tomorrow.
but with alessia saying goodnight and promising to come over on the weekend before hiding away in your bedroom occupying herself watching tv.
so thinking she now wasn't missing out on anything you'd then wrestled the five year old into bed and read her her favourite story, bella not even making it five pages in before her eyes drooped and suddenly she was dead asleep.
despite that you still read through the story cover to cover, having done so ever since she was little you weren't about to break the tradition now.
kissing her forehead and very quietly making your way out of the room, you closed her bedroom door with the most gentle click possible and exhaled, crossing the hallway to your own bedroom.
"we're safe!" you joked, knocking on the door frame as the blonde looked up from her phone. "what did i miss then?" you moved to sit beside her on the bed, both you and alessia watching the night agent together.
"another murder, loads of anonymous phone calls, nothing serious." alessia shrugged, whining as you smacked her leg. "who got murdered! thats not a detail to be skipped over russo." you clicked your tongue as she playfully rolled her eyes.
"maybe if you hadn't watched ahead and forced me to catch up, i might have been more forth coming with information." alessia shrugged pulling a face as you scoffed.
"i only watched ahead because you bailed on dinner last week!" you teased shoving her. "oh i am so sorry for being sick and not wanting to share germs, how horribly selfish of me." alessia gasped as you nodded. "i'm so glad you're finally seeing it from my point of view." you sighed, squealing as her fingers dug into your sides.
"no no no i'm sorry!" you begged, trying to push her off as her fingers attacked, poked and prodded at your sides. "less!" you laughed out, trying to shove her off as the two of you grappled, alessia now squealing as your hand poked at her ribs which were just as ticklish as yours.
"okay okay, truce!" alessia panted out, your body half on top of hers as your hands left one anothers bodys and you collapsed a little into her, both of you vibrating against one another with much more gentle laughter.
a silence fell between you as you pulled your head off of her chest, glancing down at her and finding yourself immediately sucked into the vibrant baby blue pools of her affectionate gaze.
alessia's own eyes also locked in with yours, suddenly becoming very aware of the close and pressed together nature of your bodies, the taller girl pushing herself up ever so slightly, noticing you didn't recoil away as her face was now mere centimeters from yours.
her eyes searched your face for any sign that you didn't want this as much as she did, coming up a little unsure unable to completely read your expression decided to just take a chance.
you weren't caught completely off guard at the sudden feel of her soft lips pressed to yours, but your breath did hitch slightly as her hands ever so carefully cupped your face, deepening it a little but not pushing things too far.
but that tiny adjustment in position was all it took for the alarm bells to ring in the back of your head and your walls to shoot right back up from where she'd spent weeks scaling over them and sneaking her way into your life.
so you pulled away and sat up, forcing your eyes away and missing how her face fell at your change in body language, regret burning her mouth like it was full of bitter ashes.
"i am so sorry, i should go." alessia managed out, sitting up as you caught the hints of insecurity in her tone and she quickly hurried out of your bedroom. "less wait!" you rushed after her and grabbed her wrist as she stood by your front door, heart feeling as if someone was squeezing it in their fists at the look on her face.
"i do like you, really. but i come with...a lot of baggage." you sighed out, alessia's face curving downward into a frown.
"i have a child alessia. bella is my life and i would never ever do anything to confuse or hurt her, and bringing people in and out of my life that aren't just friends can be really hard to understand at her age." you started, running a hand through your hair with another sigh.
alessia waited a moment to see if you continued, but when you didn't she took intitiative to speak up for herself.
"i'd love to say i understand that but i don't have a child so that would be a lie. but i know bringing someone romantically into your circle can be a lot, with or without other things going on-" alessia started softly.
"-but i really like bella. i wasn't lying when she said she is literally the coolest kid i've ever met, and looking at her mum its no wonder she is such a special, kind and loving little human being. but again, i can imagine that at her age it can be really scary to dangle someone in front of her that she bonds with and connects with and when things don't work out and they leave, how hard it would be to explain why." alessia continued sincerely, gaze locked with yours.
"i would never rush you into anything. obviously this is different than a normal relationship when there's a third parties feelings being taken into consideration, but i promise to never overstep with that, everything can be on your terms." alessia promised, a lump in your throat at the tenderness her words seemed to carry.
alessia found herself pulling you into a hug, your body melting perfectly into hers as you found a warmth blossoming in your chest as your face pressed into her shoulder, her strong arms holding you tight within them, chin hooking over your shoulder as she stood a head or so taller.
"i also really like you, and i've loved getting to know both you and bella. i'd love to see where this might go but i know there's more to think about than just you and i, so i promise i'm happy being friends too. just...think it over." at those words she let you go, tugging your door open and pressing a kiss to the crown of your head before suddenly she was gone, only the lingering feeling of her lips against your skin all that was left.
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disneyprincemuke · 1 year ago
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look after you * fem!driver
the heat of the qatar race alongside her period proved to be much more than she can handle; although she doesn’t tell anybody that
pairings: logan sargeant x fem!driver, sebastian vettel x fem!driver, alex albon x fem!driver, carlos sainz x fem!driver, charles leclerc x fem!driver
warnings: mentions of period, not feeling well
notes: hi i told u we're back to regularly scheduled fem!driver content... although, i do have a plan for something else later tonight! i also seem to be getting over my writer's block, sOOO WE SHOULD BE GOOD TO GO WITH THE REST OF MY FICS
also, i'm very curious where u guys think i'm from because i'm awake at the most ludicrous of hours answering asks and messages so like idk
(series masterlist) | (📂 the rookie season)
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she sits back in her seat, eyes darting all over the garage as mechanics and engineers scramble around to prepare her car for the race later today.
the sprint race yesterday was just as excruciating as she expected. the heat, the intensity of the race, and the fact that she's suddenly got her period was not a good mix as it proves.
she barely survived the duration of the sprint yesterday. she was visibly pale climbing out of her car, chest heaving and makeup melting off as she took her helmet off. it didn't take long for sebastian to catch on to her state when she entered the garage after weigh-in.
"kid," sebastian stops right in front of her, head tilted to the side in concern. he's got a cold can of pepsi in his hands when she looks up. "are you feeling okay? you don't have to race today if you're not well."
"no, i'm fine," she nods, taking the pepsi into her hands. she smiles up at him weakly as she sips on the straw. "i'm okay."
"well, you didn't look very okay yesterday," sebastian frowns. "don't be pressured to race tonight if you don't feel like it. your safety is more important than the race and it's unbelievably hot here tonight."
she shakes her head, slowly getting up as she remembers the drivers' parade that she has to attend. "i can definitely race today. i promise i'm fine," she reassures him with a pat to his shoulder. "i just need more pepsi to feel refreshed."
"you've got to drink water at some point for hydration," sebastian mutters. "i've got some in the freezer for before the race. drink it, okay?"
she grins at him with a thumbs up, slowly exiting the garage. "i will drink the ice cold water."
when she turns around to walk towards where other drivers have gathered, she backs into somebody's body, making her whirl around with an apology on her lips.
"i'm so sorry!"
"oh, it's alright!" a familiar giggle fills her ears and a hand comes up to her shoulder to offer some support. when she turns around, alex is smiling down at her as he steps aside to walk with her. "oh, your hair is up in a ponytail today. is something wrong?"
"what?" she's taken aback by the question - why is her ponytail such a big deal? "what about the ponytail?"
"i've just never seen you bring your hair up before on a race weekend," alex frowns, tugging at a strand of hair gently. “you look cute. and- oh, no makeup today?”
she shakes her head with a frown. “the heat practically melted my makeup off yesterday. that shit’s expensive and uncomfortable,” she mutters, bottom lip out in a pout as they walk.
when they approach the small group gathered by the pit lane, she’s greeted by oscar’s surprised gasp and carlos’s confused head tilt.
she lifts her arms, palms into the sky as she throws them a scowl. “what?”
carlos tears his eyes away immediately, but oscar maintains his gaze on her. “you’re not wearing any makeup.”
“yeah, so?”
oscar furrows his eyebrows and turns his body away from her. “nothing, just odd. you typically like doing your makeup.”
“it’s too hot to do my makeup,” she sighs, not liking that she has to repeat herself. “it practically melted off during yesterday’s sprint.”
“that’s true. comfort over anything else,” carlos nods with an approving smile. “please remember to drink some water later.”
“you and seb are so alike,” she grins, patting the spaniard’s shoulder. “that’s exactly what he told me earlier.”
“yeah, because everyone knows you don’t drink water when you’ve got,” oscar snatches the drink in her hand, “a pepsi in your hand. so unhealthy.”
“well, it makes me feel so sparkly in my mouth,” she fights back, snatching it back. “mind your own drink!”
“what’s u– you look different today,” logan says, slowly approaching the circle. with a hand on the small of her back, he tilts his head slightly as he scans her face. “is it the hair?”
“no, mate,” oscar smirks, “she didn’t do her makeup.”
“oh! how come?” logan frowns, pinching her cheek. “i was wondering why you hadn’t sent a selfie to the groupchat yet begging for compliments.”
“yeah, true,” oscar chuckles. “that does seem to be a trend, doesn’t it?”
“you guys get selfies for free?” carlos frowns. “she always asks me to pay like a thousand every weekend i ask her what she’s wearing to the paddocks.”
“only a thousand? she asks me for millions,” alex finally speaks again with the shake of his head. “what a business woman you are.”
carlos raises an eyebrow. “all jokes aside though… you are looking a bit pale. are you feeling okay?”
she smiles, a thumbs up raised next to her face. “of course!”
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“mate, you don’t look very well,” she mutters, sipping on her pepsi as she approaches logan. “the flu still got you bad?”
“pretty bad,” logan sighs, slumping his shoulders. “but i’ll be alright.”
she hums, pressing her lips together as she looks at him from the side of her eye. “i’m not sure if i believe you, actually.”
“if anyone’s more of a liar between us, it’s you,” he puts his hands on his hips, “you look worse than i do and you just keep insisting you’re fine
“is it because i’ve not got makeup on?” she scowls at him, winding her hand back to smack him on the shoulder.
“what?” he cries incredulously, throwing his head back in shock. “where’d you get that? i didn’t even say anything about the makeup!”
“it’s just such a coincidence that everyone’s saying i look sick without makeup on.”
“it’s really not that. you just don’t look like you’re coping well with the heat.”
“oh, cause god forbid a woman sweats.”
“i literally didn’t even say that.”
“you may as well have.”
“you’re crazy.”
“you guys are driving me crazy with all these questions.”
“cut it out,” oscar scolds, coming up from behind them. he steps between their bodies and separates them. “grid kids are coming. please behave.”
“he said i look sick because i didn’t have makeup on,” she mutters, pointing at logan.
“i said she doesn’t look like she’s coping well with the heat! i never said anything about the lack of makeup!” logan answers hurriedly, leaning forward to scowl at her from oscar’s side. “will you tell her to cut it out?”
“tell him to stop telling me i look sick!”
“okay,” oscar says, hands up as she stops speaking. he turns to logan. “stop aggravating her — you already know what’s pissing her off, so stop bringing it up and asking her.”
then, he turns to the girl with narrowed down eyes. “and you do look a bit sick, and trust me, it’s nothing to do with the fact that you didn’t do your makeup. you just look like you are going to pass out,” oscar sighs. “just drink some water, and i’m sure you will look slightly more alive.”
he straightens his back as more drivers pile towards them for the opening ceremony for the race. “now, cut it out and just act normal. please.”
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“are you sure you’re fit to race tonight?” sebastian asks again, eyebrows raised as she zips up her race suit. “no harm in pulling out if you’re not okay.”
“seb,” she says in a laugh, securing the velcro around her neck. “i’m okay. it’s just another day in the office.”
“your mum would personally shave my head if she finds out i let you race when you’re not well,” sebastian sighs. he places a hand on her shoulder. “seriously. please sit out if you need to.”
“i’m,” she turns to him and puts a hand on his elbow, “seriously okay. please don’t worry so much. this is what i do — i race.”
“fine,” sebastian smiles. “but promise me you’ll keep me updated how you’re doing during the race.”
“i always do,” she smiles, leaning into his body for a hug. like they always do before she gets in the car for the formation lap. “promise me you won’t pull me out without my approval.”
“i’d never dare cross you."
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well. she didn’t feel good the entire race. it was too hot the entire race, her seat was burning, and sweat flooded her face almost three-quarters of the duration.
the sensation of her hair sticking to her neck and her sweaty head is driving her to the brink of overstimulation. perhaps it’s with the added bouts of cramps that would come every few minutes.
but she doubts it’s the period making her feel sensitive. it’s not her first time racing with the conditions of her period.
she finished in p5, which is arguably very nice, but she just feels very suffocated in her race suit and the helmet that hugs her.
“is logan alright?” she manages to ask, driving her car into parc ferme. “you mentioned he retired during the race?”
“he’s alright. dehydration, i think,” sebastian answers her through the radio. “medical centre with james.”
“what about oscar? he’s okay?”
“he’s alright, from what i can see from the pit wall. he’s got p3.”
“crazy stats for a rookie,” she smiles as the car stops. “can i just sit here for a while, please?”
“do you need help getting out of the car?”
“i don’t,” she trails off, her head starting to spin now that she’s no longer in motion. instantly, her chest starts to feel heavier and her breaths become shallow. “i just… just need a minute.”
every breath she takes is proven to be worse than before. the hot air hits her in the face, the helmet and the balaclava restricting the type of air she can get.
she just wants to lay back in an ice bath, if she could. if she could just manage to get out of the car, that is.
a tap on the top of her helmet urges her to look up, doe eyes meeting a pair of dreamy green eyes. one that she doesn’t see often, but has always looked up to since she was young.
“are you okay?”
“charles,” she says breathily, her vision getting blurrier by the second. “i’m okay. i just needed a minute. it’s very hot.”
“it is,” he smiles. “do you need help getting out?”
“i’m alright,” she says softly. “it’s just a little hard to breathe.”
“it would probably help if you take off the helmet,” he suggests. “i’ll hold it for you — take it off now so you can get fresh air.”
she nods, reaching beneath her chin to unclip the helmet. slowly, she pulls it off her head, then charles takes it into his hands.
instantly, she does feel slightly better. she pulls the balaclava away from her nose, allowing her to deepen the breaths she’s taking as she attempts to regain her composure.
“doesn’t that feel much better?” charles grins. “let me help you out of the car and let’s head to weigh-in together. sound okay?”
she smiles with a nod. “okay.”
the way charles leclerc has her starstruck even after racing alongside him the entire year is something she will never understand. she climbs out of the car, charles’ arms lifted up protectively around her as she wobbles out.
then she realises that he’s holding both of their stuff. she tries reaching over to take her helmet into her hands, but he simply twists his body away from her as he shakes his hesd.
“take off the gloves. you’ll feel so good,” charles smiles at her, still walking alongside her. “and the balaclava. don’t worry about your helmet.”
“thank you,” she smiles, her cheeks flushed as she does as she’s instructed. “how was your race?”
“it was okay,” charles says simply. “you drank water during the race, yes?”
“a little. it wasn’t very refreshing when i did,” she sighs. she holds her balavlaca and gloves in one hand, smiling when charles finally hands her her helmet. “though, i think- whoa!”
her sentence is cut off immediately, her helmet falling to the ground with a loud thud as she lands on her knees against the pavement. her hands dig into the gravel as she drops her head low, slightly embarrassed that she’d tripped on absolutely nothing to the naked eye.
“hey, are you alright?” charles asks hurriedly, bending down next to her. he puts his helmet down on the ground gently, a hand wrapping around her elbow and the other around her shoulders. “what happened?”
“i don’t know,” she sighs. she straightens her back slightly, sitting on her knees. “i got dizzy for a second.”
“we better get you to someone who knows how to take care of you,” charles sighs, looking up at the crowd that’s gathered around them.
one of them, being carlos, who sat out for the race today. “i’ll bring her to the medical centre,” carlos mutters, wrapping his arms around the younger girl. “get her things to seb. i’ve got her.”
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“stupid,” was the first thing logan said to her when she stepped into the room in the medical centre.
she scowls at him, a cold pack of ice gel sitting on her forehead as carlos helps her get settled into her seat. “shut up.”
“no, you shut up.”
“both of you shut up,” carlos sighs. he bends down and reappears with two bottles of water. “both of you are like, extremely dehydrated. please drink some water.”
“you didn’t drink the water seb asked you to drink before the race?” logan scoffs. “should have known better. you’re on your period, aren’t you?”
“you’re one to talk — you literally refused to drink the water they gave you in the car,” she scoffs. “and how do you know that?”
“you only physically reject water when you’re on your period, idiot,” logan sighs, sinking in his seat and closing his eyes. “also, i live with you. of course i know when the devil comes to visit you.”
“drink,” carlos says again, handing her the opened bottle of water. “i know it’s not super cold water, but you’ve got to drink something.”
“only freezing water for me,” she frowns, pushing the bottle back into carlos’s body. “you heard logan: i’m on my period.”
“i’ve got your stupid water right here.” the door is opened, sebastian holding it open with a bottle in his hand. he flashes a grin at his driver before extending his arm to give her the bottle. “drink up, please.”
“do you know she is on her period today?” carlos snorts, pointing at the girl. “no wonder she was being weird all day.”
the look of realisation that dawns on sebastian’s face can only be described as priceless. typically, him and noah, her physical trainer, are quite up to date with her statistics.
for something this serious to be overlooked with the chaotic weekend was a big issue.
“oh,” sebastian frowns. “why didn’t you tell me? we could have looked after you better.”
she smiles, closing her eyes. she waves off his concern. “i was okay. finished in the points without makeup melting on my face.”
“okay, what do you m- you literally almost fainted after the race!” sebastian groans, scratching his head in confusion. “nothing about that screams okay!”
“her definition is okay is that she’s not dead,” logan says monotonously.
“which is a good definition, if you ask me.”
“but it’s stupid,” sebastian says.
“but it makes sense,” she sings. “i’m gonna take a nap. wake me up when they come over to give me an iv like the nurse said earlier.”
“you are so very silly for not hydrating enough,” carlos sighs, readjusting the gel pack on her forehead. he puts another one where her shoulder meets her neck, chuckling when she shakes in a shiver. “glad you’re okay.”
“me too.”
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hgfictionwriter · 5 months ago
Text
Self Control: Part Eleven - Picture Perfect
Jessie Fleming x Reader
Summary: You and Jessie are settling into your new home as the arrival of your little one nears. However, Jessie wants to capture this moment in time before it passes.
Warnings: G!P content. Sexy photoshoot. Masturbation (reader), cunnilingus, penetrative sex, preg/breeding kink, language.
A/N: I couldn’t go another chapter without Jessie worshipping Reader’s body through photos. And if it led to smut…so be it. Also, a brief throwback/love letter to my Handy series.
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Jessie wore a gentle frown as she held two wooden bars together and eyed them up to make sure they were aligned. When she was satisfied, she retrieved a screw she held poised between her lips and starting assembling the two pieces together.
When done, she examined the manual and began lining up her next items. She looked up at you from her spot on the floor, a soft smile crossing her face. You were in the new glider chair that'd been delivered and had your laptop teetering on the edge of your lap as you typed away on something for work. Your arms were bent awkwardly around your protruding bump and your expression betrayed some of the effort you had to exert to just do this simple task.
"You know, I built you a desk," Jessie said with a smirk.
You exhaled and gave her a pointed stare, pausing mid-keystroke.
"And what a lovely desk it is. But that's in the office. You are here - in the nursery, building our daughter's crib, and I would like to be a part that. You refuse to let me help you, so I'll merely be an observer," you explained evenly.
Jessie bit back an amused laugh and simply raised her eyebrows with an accepting nod.
"Okay. Heard. And I'm sorry - I just like building things on my own," she said as she continued to piece the crib together.
"You can just say I get in the way," you said with a knowing smirk over your laptop screen.
"I would never," she said facetiously as she held your gaze with a grin. You went to protest and she nodded to the freshly painted walls. "You've done a ton already. You painted far more than I wanted you to yesterday. And you've done a bunch of arranging in here already today. You've been on your feet too much." She chided before frowning further and getting up from her spot on the floor to push the chair's accompanying foot rest in front of you. "Put your feet up. It'll help with the swelling."
"Ugh," you complained with an empty glare though you complied with her request. You continued typing as Jessie returned to her previous spot and you went on. "This whole sexy pregnancy thing is past its prime. It's not so fun sometimes."
"I'm sorry," Jessie said as she looked up at you again.
"Don't be sorry," you told her mildly as you looked at her. "I'm just not feeling so hot anymore."
"'Hot' as in sexy or 'hot' as in good?" Jessie inquired.
"Both," you said flatly, and she gave you an empathetic smile.
"Well, if it means anything, I think you're incredibly sexy," she told you before rushing on in case it upset you, "I know it's a pain for you, but I wish you knew how attractive you are like this."
"Well, I consider myself lucky that you think so," you responded dully.
"I'm so serious," she emphasized. She paused momentarily, a lingering, persistent thought pushing itself to the forefront again and begging to be shared. You noted her hesitation and frowned skeptically.
"What is it?" You asked.
"Nothing." Jessie smiled. "I just think you're really beautiful," she said before she ducked her head to keep assembling the crib.
The room was quiet for a few seconds and Jessie could feel your eyes on her. If you were going to probe, you chose not to and she heard you start typing again.
You both worked quietly in tandem with one another and eventually Jessie stood back, hands on her hips as she surveyed her work. She gave a single nod of approval, a proud smile on her face as she examined the finished crib.
"What do you think?" She asked as she looked over her shoulder at you. You looked up and over, a smile immediately on your face and you closed your laptop. You went to stand, rocking yourself to get enough momentum to get out of the chair, but Jessie trotted over and gave you a hand.
"You love this," you said with a mixture of accusation and gratitude as you narrowed your eyes at her. She gave you an innocent smile.
"Taking care of you? Sure," she said, undeterred.
You both walked over to the crib and rest your hands on the rail and peered in.
Jessie's imagination was rampant with visions of your daughter sleeping in this crib, of her rocking your daughter to sleep in the middle of the night, of her cooing and fussing and slowly growing up in this room you and Jessie had put together with love.
"I can't wait until she's here," you said softly, drawing Jessie out of her reverie. She smiled at you and kissed your shoulder.
“Me neither. I can’t believe it’s getting so close,” she said.
“I know. It seems like just a few weeks ago we were looking at the test. And now…,” you trailed off as you rubbed your stomach. Jessie frowned as she caught you faintly wince.
“Are you okay? Braxton Hicks?” She asked as she placed her hand next to yours on the underside of your bump. You exhaled through your wince and nodded.
“Yeah.”
Jessie gave you another empathetic look and rubbed your stomach for you. She remembered how panicked she was the first time you experienced one, despite reading up on them and hearing about them in an earlier birthing class.
“They’re becoming more frequent, hey?” She asked. They used to be every few days and now it was daily.
“Mmhmm,” you voiced. “A nice prelude to what’s in store in a few weeks,” you deadpanned as you side eyed her. “Which, by the way, you better not be missing next week’s class. It’s the big one.”
Jessie pulled you sideways into her and kissed your head. "Of course I’ll be there. The team already knows I’m missing training that afternoon.”
“Good,” you said sternly before relenting some. “Thank you.”
"Of course. I wouldn’t miss it. And hey, how about I run you a bath," she suggested.
You contemplated it, stubbornly almost, until finally accepting. “I suppose that would be nice. Between the Braxton Hicks and my back…it wouldn’t hurt.”
Jessie led you to the bathroom and soon she tenderly underdressed you as the tub filled. She held out her hand for you to step in, knowing balance was a bit of a challenge given your changing center of gravity.
"Babe," you complained, drawing out the pet name as Jessie helped you sink into the water. "It's cold."
"It's warm," Jessie corrected. "You can't have a hot bath - you know that." You rolled your eyes and continued to pout. Jessie gave you a withering look, but turned on the hot water for a few seconds.
"That's all you're getting," she told you, but you now smiled at her.
"Thanks, baby."
"You can have all the hot baths you want after the baby is born. I'll watch her and take care of her and you can sit in here, water as hot as you like and get all pruney," she finished with a smirk.
"I will," you said facetiously defiant.
Jessie sat on the edge of the tub and watched you quietly as you settled in, eyes closing as you relaxed into the water.
You'd been in the new house only a couple of weeks, but - with some help - you'd gotten the place more or less settled. It felt like each day the next piece of your lives was becoming crisper and clearer. It excited Jessie and she could hardly believe it.
She nearly had to laugh. A few years ago, she'd been sitting there, palms sweating and mouth dry as she wracked her brain over and over again with what to text you as she tried to charm you and wished against all odds that you'd like her as much as she liked you. Now, here you were, her ring on your finger and round with her baby, weeks away from giving birth. Your family of two about to become a family of three.
The thought that nagged her earlier came back. She watched you lovingly and just said it.
"I want to take pictures of you."
You opened your eyes and cocked your head slightly in question.
"I want to take pictures of you," Jessie repeated. "Like this." You frowned and she stammered slightly. "Well - maybe not exactly like that. Well? Actually, maybe." She shook out her head and went on assuredly. "You are glowing. And gorgeous. And so incredibly beautiful. And I want to capture this for us."
"For us or for you," you asked casually as your eyes drifted down her body teasingly. She blushed.
"Maybe both," she admitted haughtily. "And it doesn't have to be today. But soon."
"Is that why you built your dark room?" You teased. Jessie splashed you playfully and you squealed.
"This would just happen to be a nice perk," she refuted, a grin still on her face. She grew earnest once more. "I know your body is going through a lot and you don't feel great. But you really are the most stunning woman to me. I hope you know that."
You seemed to begrudgingly contemplate her words. Eventually, you sighed. "You need to be in some of the photos, too."
That wasn't what she was picturing, but she'd have to cope. She smiled.
"Okay. Deal."
"Now, if I ask you something - will you say 'yes'?" You asked. Jessie frowned.
"Maybe? What is it?"
"If I wanted you to go to the store and get me, say, some ice cream. Would you?" You asked as you looked at her expectantly. She rolled her eyes and groaned.
"You don't have to," you offered mildly, but Jessie was already standing up.
"Come on," she said dryly. "Let's get you out of there and into bed. And, yes, I'll go." You nearly snickered and she ground out with a lingering grin, "You have me wrapped around your little finger and you know it." She nodded to your bump with a shake of her head. "And she will, too."
"Mhmm," you merely nodded with a self-satisfied smile. "Who are you kidding?" You said patiently. "She already does."
------------
“You look beautiful,” Jessie told you as she crouched and held the viewfinder of her camera up to her eye. The camera clicked as she pressed the shutter.
“Well, it is your doing,” you joked with a teasing glance as you readjusted the flowing fabric of your dress. “So you’re really just admiring your own work.”
Jessie smiled, fighting off a blush as she moved around you and took pictures of you from different angles.
You rubbed your stomach before pulling your hand back. “Oh, sorry.”
“No, no, that’s perfect,” she told you as she encouraged you to do it again. She put her hand on your stomach as well and leaned back to take a picture of her hand and yours.
Jessie had you pose in various ways, all the while making sure you felt comfortable and at ease. She really meant it when she said you were glowing. You already were the most gorgeous girl to her, but like this, she couldn’t help but worship you.
When she was satisfied, she stood up straight and looked to you in question.
“Now,” she went on, clearing her throat as she looked at you. “How do you feel about…taking some clothes off.” She went on in a rush, one hand up in defense already. “It’ll be tasteful. I promise.”
You smirked at her. “I trust you.”
You started bundling up the fabric of your dress and Jessie helped you take off the garment. She couldn’t help it if her hands lingered on your hips, on your bump, on your swollen breasts. She cleared her throat once more as she forced herself to refocus.
“You’re gorgeous,” she told you as you held your breasts in your hands or covered them with your arm for modesty as Jessie photographed your otherwise naked body.
“Here, give me that,” you said gently after some time as you held out your hand for the camera. Jessie handed it over wordlessly with a frown. After some encouragement, she complied and you started taking pictures of her with your bump.
She took the camera after a few shots and set it up on a tripod to capture a few photos of the two of you together.
It was a challenge for Jessie to control herself as she kissed and caressed your bump. Some of her kisses and touches turned sensual. She kept an eye on you and fought back a satisfied grin as you began to fidget under her touch.
“Babe,” you drew out the name, half complaining, half whining.
“Yeah babe?” She asked through a smile as she continued to kiss your taut stomach.
“You know what,” you pouted.
“‘Mmkay, that’s enough,” Jessie said as she stood up and took the camera back. “This was supposed to be photos of you after all,” she said with a lingering look. She stood back and took a few more pictures, noting how flushed you looked.
“Why don’t you we get some of you sitting down,” Jessie said as she coaxed you over to the bed. You sat down heavily and gave her an accusatory look.
“God, now you have me all worked up,” you complained leaning back on your hands.
Jessie hummed as she wound the film. “Well, feel free to do something about it,” she offered nonchalantly. You shot her a look. She smirked at you. “They can be for my even more private collection.”
You studied her for several seconds and she could feel you were on the precipice.
“It’s obviously up to you, but I would adore some photographs of my gorgeous wife-to-be relieving some tension as she’s round and full of the baby that I pumped into her.”
“Christ Jess,” you huffed as you rolled your eyes in frustration.
“Her body blossoming in the most incredible, raw way possible. Her breasts gorgeous and full. Her hips softer and curvier to accommodate the life we created. God, you turn me on so much,” Jessie finished, her camera poised and ready, and also unable to ignore the tightening sensation forming in her pants.
She caught the way your eyes drifted to her bulge and you bit your lip. She snapped a photo.
"God you're beautiful."
You didn't say anything, you just lifted your gaze to look at her through the camera and leaned back further before reaching down with a hand to begin stroking through your folds.
"Oh yes," Jessie said with a broad smile as she knelt down to get a better angle. From here, not only did she get a clearer view of your swollen and slick pussy lips, but you looked incredible from this angle - leaned back, your prominent bump on full display, your breasts spilling out around it, further highlighted by how your chest moved up and down with each breath, never mind the profile of your face with your head thrown back.
Jessie bit the inside of her cheek as she felt herself straining further against the fabric of her pants as she watched you begin to rub your clit, soft mewls starting to escape you.
"You always sound so amazing," Jessie told you as she took another picture.
You simply moaned and began rubbing yourself with greater fervour.
"Help me, Jess," you said, eyes still closed as you gently rocked into your hand. She didn't need to be told twice.
She set the camera down quickly and shifted over between your legs and gently pushed your legs apart just enough to make room for her. She felt a pulse go through her at the low moan you made.
Wasting no more time, she dipped her head in and began licking you as you continued to play with your clit.
"Oh God," you breathed, your chest falling as pleasure coursed through you.
She pulled your lips into her mouth, teasing and licking them before dipping her tongue inside your entrance then returning to trace between your folds.
Between her attention and yours, it wasn't long until your hips began to buck into her face and your hand. Her face was coated in juices before you even started cumming, only to have your arousal dripping down her chin as you came.
When she eventually pulled back, she lifted the collar of her shirt to wipe her mouth on the inside of it.
"God, baby. You were always wet, but you're so wet these days and I love it even more," she praised.
By now you had laid back on the bed to recover. You were only there for maybe 30 seconds before you shifted on your side.
"Ugh, that's too much," you said of the weight on you.
Jessie climbed onto the bed and kissed your bump and then your arm.
The room was quiet as you rested and Jessie simply watched you. She ignored the way her pants were pulled tight against her erection and the feeling of frustration it created.
Eventually, you peeked over. "What are we going to do about you?"
"We don't need to do anything," she told you and she meant it.
"Mmm, I know we don't have to, but what if I want to," you said.
Jessie gave you a scrutinizing look and you shrugged a shoulder.
"I love cumming on your tongue, but cumming on your cock is a whole other experience."
"Jesus," Jessie breathed as she looked up at the ceiling for a second before returning to meet your gaze with a smirk. She shook her head. "You know what you do to me."
"I can see it," you said with a teasing nod towards her very obvious bulge.
"How do you want to do it?" Jessie asked. In the state you were in, sex required a bit more forethought and consideration these days. It took away a touch of the primal need and 'in the moment' spontaneity, but it was far more important to her that you felt comfortable.
You hoisted yourself up into a sitting position and looked around the bed.
"I want to ride you," you said. "I might get tired quick though."
"That's okay. I can support you and we can flip over when you do get tired," she said.
With a nod of approval from you, Jessie began to undress and then maneuvered herself over to the head of the bed. She reached for your hands to help you, gently helping you straddle her and balance before guiding herself to your entrance.
"Are you okay?" She asked, only to be answered by you sinking down onto her waiting cock. Her jaw set and she dug her head backwards into the pillow as your warmth engulfed her. "Shit." She cursed and you merely smirked at her.
"Still good?" You asked with a glint in your eye.
"Fuck, you know how good you feel," she said as she held your hips and rolled herself up into you.
Jessie had her feet planted on the bed, knees raised so you could lean back against her thighs. This also let her better use her hips to help you move up and down. What good was working out if it didn't help her fuck you?
Again, the view was absolutely stunning from where Jessie was. She could adore you in all your glory as you were backlit on top of her. The days of fast and furious fuckings were on a bit of a hiatus, but it didn't bother Jessie in the least. The intimacy of these recent sessions put them in their own category and she adored it.
She held one hand under your thigh to continue supporting you, but her other hand came to your round belly and she caressed it as you two made love. Your hand came to hers.
"What are you going to do when I'm no longer swollen and heavy with your baby," you said with a lilt in your voice. Jessie grinned as she locked eyes with you.
"Put another one in you," she said without missing a beat.
You chuckled. "I know we make decent money, but we're going to have to be careful to not get too out of control. Two tops."
"Three?" Jessie asked as she continued to rock into you.
"I'm going to say 'two' knowing we'll end up at three. If I say 'three', we'll wind up with four and that's just too much."
"Fine," Jessie said facetiously as she gripped your hips again and picked up her pace just a touch. You moaned and gripped her forearms for support.
She wished she could kiss you, but she couldn't in this position. After would just have to do. She continued and soon she could feel your walls starting to tighten and clench around her.
"Fuck," you whimpered. "Rub my clit," you told her urgently.
It wasn't easy, given your bump, but Jessie did so and you quickly came undone on her fingers and cock. Her muscles flexed as she held you up as your body melted into hers.
You relaxed on top of her, leaning back against her thighs and nudged her for help to disentangle yourself from her. She chuckled and did so, unable to hide that she was still very much aroused.
You knelt onto your hands and knees, your stomach brushing against the sheets below. You looked over your shoulder at her.
"I want you to finish inside me," you said.
Jessie didn’t argue. She shifted behind you and held herself to your sopping entrance to push inside. Again, her eyes fell shut at the incredible feeling of your soft heat wrapping tightly around her.
“Fuck, babe,” she said, on one knee, the other foot planted next to you as she rocked her hips into you. She leaned back and watched how your lips wrapped around her cock and she kneaded your ass as she bit her lip.
“Oh God,” you said as she shifted to lean over you, one hand bracing herself on the mattress and the other on the side of your bump. With this angle she was hitting your g-spot directly and your legs began to quiver.
Wet sounds filled the air as she began to pump into you a touch faster, a tightness starting to build within her as you continued to envelope her, your tunnel repeatedly massaging the sensitive head of her cock and her length as she thrust into you with firm, measured strokes.
She could tell you were close again so she grit her teeth and held back a while longer. She reached down with one hand and began playing with your clit again. Your legs shook further and she leaned back to hold your hips to support you.
You came with a cry and Jessie finally released herself inside of you with a low moan, holding her hips flush against you as she pulsed and twitched inside your heat.
“Ah, fuck,” she hissed in pleasure as she took a slow stroke back before pushing in to the hilt a couple more times as she drained herself into your waiting pussy.
She exhaled slowly, her mouth in a tight ‘O’ as she withdraw altogether to see just a hint of her cum pooled inside of you, most of it too deep to be seen.
“Fuck, baby,” she said as she admired you and the state you were in. She leaned forward and kissed your back before you settled onto your side with a contented sigh.
You sighed further, catching your breath as Jessie snuggled in behind you to spoon you. She wrapped her arm around your waist, her fingertips barely reaching your bellybutton.
“Are you okay?” She asked as she thumbed the taut skin of your middle.
“Completely. Other than tired.” She could hear the smile in your voice. “And more Braxton Hicks,” you added flatly. “I guess multiple orgasms will do that to a girl.”
Jessie propped herself up on her elbow to look at you. You glanced up at her briefly, but soon nestled your head back into the bed and closed your eyes.
“Should we be concerned?” She asked.
“No. The midwife said that’s normal,” you replied. “If I end up past-due though, I’ll be tasking you with fucking me into labour though,” you said with a smirk.
You exhaled again before tilting your head slightly to look back at her. “How do you think the photos will turn out?”
Jessie beamed and kissed your shoulder. “They’re going to be beautiful.”
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solarmorrigan · 1 year ago
Text
I'm late, I'm sorry, but here's the full fic from this WIP post yesterday!
[CW: bullying, references to canon racism and violence, mentions of recreational drug use]
-
Steve makes it to the bathroom down the hall from the shop classroom—the one that’s far from the cafeteria and always empty during lunch, where people really only come to smoke, anyway—before he completely loses his shit.
“Son of a bitch!” He’s almost screaming as he hauls off and punches the wall of one of the bathroom stalls, putting every ounce of anger and frustration and humiliation into it, hitting it so hard that the whole construction rattles.
“Motherfucker,” he hisses, shaking his hand out, because it had hurt, and then he winds up to do it again, to make it hurt more, because at least he’s in control of that much, at least it’s anything but what he’s feeling right now.
“That’s a good way to break your hand, y’know,” a voice comes from the doorway, startling Steve into pivoting and aiming his fist at whoever is coming after him now.
He stops short when he sees nobody but Eddie goddamn Munson standing there, cringing into a startled flinch to protect his head as Steve nearly swings at him.
“Jesus shit,” Steve barks, dropping his fist and stepping back, shaky with adrenaline. “You walk like a fucking ghost, Munson.”
Munson peeks out of his defensive crouch before straightening up and sending a meaningful glance at the stall wall. “Somehow, I don’t think you would’ve heard me even if I was making all the noise in the world.”
Steve shrugs, his shoulders staying up near his ears in a defensive slouch. He can feel something dropping out of his hair and down the side of his face, and he feels the humiliation all over again as he tries to swipe it away.
“What do you want?” he asks, beyond caring if he sounds rude; he thinks he’s entitled, considering.
This time, Munson shrugs, a rolling, casual thing that belies the sharp look in his eyes. “Came to see if you were okay, I guess.”
Steve snorts. Is he okay?
Like, in the grand scheme of things, the answer is a really shaky “maybe.” But lately? It’s more of a resounding “no, not fucking really.”
Aside from everything else – aside from the nightmares, aside from the headaches, aside from the fact he’d had to drop basketball after his concussion, aside from having no real friends or allies at school now that he and Nancy aren’t together – aside from all that, there’s Billy fucking Hargrove.
Hargrove, who had taken all of a month to start pushing Steve’s buttons again. Who had taken less than a few days after that to realize that Steve wasn’t going to push back.
And then he’d started looking for the boundary line, pushing and pushing, shoulder-checking Steve in the hall, tripping him in the single class they share, knocking shit out of his hands, shoving him when his back is turned, all the while spitting names and insults, until it had culminated into today’s fiasco: dumping a carton of chocolate milk over the top of Steve’s head in the middle of the cafeteria with a deeply unconvincing “oops.”
It had gone dead silent, every eye in the room on Steve’s red face and Hargrove’s triumphant grin, while Steve had only been able to stand there, shaking with startled rage as milk had sluiced out of his hair and seeped into his collar and down the back of his shirt, knowing that he couldn’t retaliate.
He couldn’t.
He’d marched out of the cafeteria, shame and anger growing as voices had bloomed up behind him, already gossiping and speculating.
So, no, actually, he’s not really okay.
But instead of saying any of this to Munson, he just scoffs and turns away, looking towards the sinks.
“Wouldn’t have expected you to care,” he says, injecting as much lazy indifference into his voice as he can, trying to armor up the way he used to. “The number of speeches you’ve given about how much me and my group suck, I’d have figured you’d be the first to say I deserved it.”
Munson doesn’t say anything for a moment, and Steve doesn’t look back to see if the barb landed. He doesn’t really care, he just wants the guy to go away so Steve can finish his meltdown and clean up in peace.
“Not your group anymore, though,” Munson finally says.
Steve shrugs, pulling a wad of paper towels from the dispenser; might as well move on to cleanup if Munson isn’t going to fuck off. He guesses his little breakdown can wait until he gets home.
“Hasn’t been for over a year, now, right?” Munson goes on. Steve says nothing, using a dry paper towel to try to blot up the mess. “And whatever you were like then, you’re… less like that now. Like, anyone paying attention can see you’re kinda trying something new this year.”
Steve ignores the way that makes something catch in his throat. “Thanks for the endorsement,” he drawls. “I’ll put it on my college apps: Not as much of an asshole as I used to be.”
“It’s a start,” Munson says, and Steve glances up in time to see him shrug in the mirror.
“I guess,” Steve mutters.
“And, uh – hey, I grabbed your stuff,” Munson says, holding up the binder and notebooks that Steve’s attention had glossed over until now. “Some of it’s kinda… milky, sorry.”
Steve blinks. “Uh. Thank you,” he says, stunned for a moment into sincerity.
Munson shrugs again, putting Steve’s stuff up on the narrow shelf on the wall that no one ever uses to hold things because it’s probably never been cleaned. Not like Steve’s stuff is clean now, anyway.
Steve turns back to the sink, wetting a few of the paper towels and waiting to see if Munson is going to leave now.
“What I can’t figure out–” nope, apparently he’s staying, “–is why you’re in here punching the wall, instead of out there, punching Hargrove.”
At least that makes more sense; he’s here out of curiosity, not concern.
“I mean, most people would’ve hit him for that,” Munson goes on. “I would’ve.”
But Steve’s already shaking his head before Munson’s finished speaking. “Not worth it,” he says firmly.
“What, afraid of a little suspension?” Munson asks, almost teasing. “Pretty sure the school would let their golden boy off with a slap on the wrist.”
“Not anybody’s golden boy anymore,” Steve snaps, scrubbing a wet paper towel through his hair in a vain attempt to get some of the rapidly-drying milk out. “I dropped basketball, remember? Didn’t even go in for swimming this year.”
“Oh, yeah,” Munson says, like he’d genuinely forgotten. “Sorry, not really into the whole… sports scene. Like, at all.”
Steve shrugs. “Whatever. Not important. I don’t give a shit about being suspended. I don’t even care if he hits me back. Not like I need another knock to the head at this point, but – whatever.” Steve shakes his head. “It’s just that he could– there are other things he could do.”
In the mirror, Munson’s eyebrows go up. “What, does he have blackmail on you or some shit?”
Steve raises his brows right back. “If he did, do you really think I’d tell you?”
Munson tips his head to the side. “Yeah, okay, fair enough.”
“Anyway, he doesn’t have blackmail, he has… leverage, I guess.” Steve lets out a harsh sigh and gives up on his hair for now, wetting a paper towel to try to get some of the milk off his face and neck, instead.
“…are you allowed to tell me what that is?” Munson asks after a moment.
And for a moment, Steve thinks about it. The only people in school who really know are Nancy and Jonathan, and he’s asked them to follow his lead in just – not talking about it. He hasn’t told anybody any version of what happened in the Byers’ house, or why Billy seems to have made him his personal stress ball. But who the hell would Munson tell? All his nerdy friends in his game club?
(No, no, that’s not fair. Steve doesn’t even know those people, and he’s trying not to be that guy anymore. He doesn’t have to be nice, but he shouldn’t be unkind.)
(The point stands, though – who would Munson even tell?)
“Do you know why Hargrove beat my face in back in November?” Steve finally asks, avoiding Munson’s eyes in the mirror by focusing very hard on getting the tacky milk off his hairline.
“Well, I’ve heard most of the rumors by now, I think. Heard Hargrove’s version of events, as has pretty much everyone, I’m sure. Haven’t heard yours, though,” Munson says, his voice tilting up in interest. “I just figured it was because he hated you.”
Steve lets out a humorless laugh. “Yeah, well, you’re not wrong. But also…” He pauses for a moment, collecting his thoughts. “There are these kids I babysit. Sort of.”
“Sort of?” Munson presses.
“Well, most of the time it feels like they’re just ordering me around like a bunch of entitled shitheads. But I make sure they get where they’re going without, like, disappearing, and that they don’t have so much unsupervised time that they manage to get themselves killed,” Steve admits.
“Uh huh,” Munson says; he sounds… a little confused, but not disbelieving. “And you ended up with this gig, how?”
“It’s Nancy’s little brother, and his little nerd friends,” Steve says (he’s allowed to call them nerds because he knows them, and it’s true. And besides, it’s affectionate).
“Aaand you’re still doing it now? Even though you and Wheeler aren’t…”
Steve shrugs. “They grew on me. But that’s– that’s not the point. One of the kids is, uh. Hargrove’s stepsister. And the night me and Hargrove got into it, I guess she wasn’t supposed to be out.”
“Ah,” Munson says.
“Yeah.” Steve sighs, giving up on the milk as a bad job; he probably should’ve run off to the gym showers instead of a shitty bathroom. He turns and leans back against the sink, crossing his arms over his chest and staring at the floor near Munson’s scuffed sneakers. “So he came looking for her.”
“So… Not that I’m advocating handing over children to pieces of shit like him, but – like, wouldn’t it have been the technically correct thing to do, to send her home with what is legally a family member?” Munson asks.
Steve passes a hand over his face. “She was terrified,” he says quietly, feeling a little like he’s betraying Max’s trust by saying it out loud, by saying it to a stranger. “She was terrified of what he would do if he found her there, where she wasn’t supposed to be. Terrified of what he would do to one of the other kids if he caught them together, since he’d specifically warned her to stay away from him.”
“What’s wrong with this other kid?” Munson asks, brows furrowed.
“Nothing,” Steve bites out. “He’s smart, and he’s brave, and he’s, like, slightly less of an asshole than some of the others, but what Hargrove cared about is that he’s black.”
“You’re fucking kidding me,” Munson snaps, and Steve’s hackles raise, ready to defend his kid all over again if he has to, but before he can get anything else out, Munson goes on. “We already knew he was a racist piece of shit, but – a fucking kid?”
Steve subsides. “Yeah. A fucking kid. So I told them all to stay inside and I went out to try to head him off. Or at least keep him out of the house. Which, obviously, I failed at.” He lets out a derisive little laugh, aimed solely at himself. “He knocked me on my ass, knocked the wind out of me, got past me– and by the time I was able to get up, he was already– he was inside, and he had that kid by the collar, up against the wall– one of my fucking kids–” Steve breaks off, the same rage and terror from that night choking up in his throat again. After the day he’s had, his emotions are all too close to the surface, too near to bubbling out, and he rubs at his nose, trying to stave off the angry, exhausted tears he can feel pricking at the corners of his eyes. “So I decked him.”
“Good!” Munson exclaims, and for a moment Steve actually manages a real smile.
“Yeah,” he says. “Then he hit me back, which, like, obviously. I was expecting him to, but– I mean, I might’ve actually won that fight if the fucker hadn’t hit me in the head with a plate.”
The expression that crosses Munson’s face is almost comically shocked. “What?”
“Yeah,” Steve says again, running a hand over his jaw, thumbing almost unconsciously at the still-fading scar where the porcelain had sliced him open. “I’m a little fuzzy on shit after that. Like, I remember being on the floor, and him kneeling over me, and hitting me, and hitting me, and then– I dunno, nothing.”
Distantly, Steve realizes that the expression on Munson’s face has turned from ‘comically shocked’ to ‘mildly horrified,’ but he’s a little too lost in the blurry memory of that night to do much about it.
“Holy shit, how are you not dead?” Munson blurts out.
He looks like he immediately regrets asking, but Steve finds he’s actually grateful for the question. He’s glad to move the conversation along.
“Max.” He smirks over at Eddie. “Hargrove’s stepsister. I guess she, uh– threatened him with a baseball bat? Saved my ass.”
That’s a deep over-simplification, but Steve can’t think of a way to explain the presence of heavy sedatives in the Byers’ house, and, anyway, she had threatened him with a baseball bat. The kids had all taken great joy in reenacting the way Max had nearly neutered Hargrove with the nailbat, actually; it’s almost like Steve had been there (and conscious).
“Holy shit,” Munson says, and whichever part he’s referring to, Steve is inclined to agree.
“Yep. So I was out fucking cold at the time, but the kids all insist that she got him to agree to leave her and her friends alone, but…” Steve shakes his head. “Hargrove is a fucking psychopath. I don’t trust him to keep that promise. So, at least if he’s focused on me, he might leave her alone. But if I hit back…”
“You think he’ll retaliate by going after one of your kids,” Munson says, only a hint of teasing in his words at the end.
“I know he will,” Steve says; Hargrove had implied as much more than once. He crosses his arms back over his chest. “And they are my kids.”
Munson throws his hands up, as if in surrender, but he’s definitely smiling now.
“I’m serious,” Steve insists, close to smiling himself. “They think I’m stuck with them, but they’re the ones stuck with me.”
“Lucky them,” Munson says, and– what?
“What?” Steve asks.
“Look, you’re either a better actor than, like, everyone in the drama club, or you at least seriously believe what you told me, which is more than I can say for Hargrove and whatever shit he came up with about the two of you getting into it over… what, his car was better than yours? He’s better at laundry ball? I don’t fucking remember, and it doesn’t really matter, because it was clearly and pathetically fabricated,” Munson says with an authoritative nod. “You, at the very least, really give a shit about those kids. So, yeah. Lucky them.”
“Well,” Steve scrambles for a moment, trying to cover the way he actually feels like he might start fucking blushing, “if I’d known all I had to do to change your mind about me was tell you about a fight I lost, I’d have done it ages ago.”
And now Munson’s back to smirking at him. “Seeking my esteem that badly, Harrington?”
“What? No. I mean – not– not specifically yours, it’s just… like, there’s not really an easy or fast way to make up for being kind of a dick for the last… while.” Steve runs his hand through his hair, stopping with a grimace when he remembers the drying milk. “You just have to keep not being a dick and hope people give you a chance. So, like, compared to that, convincing you was easy.”
“And all you had to do was get a severe concussion first,” Munson drawls.
Steve rolls his eyes. “I didn’t say it was severe.”
“You got hit with a plate,” Munson deadpans, and Steve can’t quite help the resulting flinch, at which Munson almost immediately softens. “Sorry.”
Steve shakes his head. “It’s fine.”
Mouth screwed to the side, Munson eyes Steve for a moment, glancing over his shirt and up to his face before gesturing at him. “You want some help with that?”
Steve blinks at him. “What?”
“Your whole… hair situation. You could bend ov– like, you could lean over the sink and I could, uh. Try to rinse it for you. Or whatever,” Munson offers, awkward but apparently sincere.
It sounds like a stupid as hell way to try to rinse his hair. The sinks are small, and not exactly high off the ground; Steve would have better luck just going to the locker room and showering it all out. His soap is there, too, and an extra shirt.
On the other hand, Steve really doesn’t feel like leaving the bathroom yet. He’s pretty sure lunch is going to end soon, and encountering everyone during passing period sounds like a nightmare. In here, with Munson, it’s quiet. It feels almost safe.
“Yeah, sure,” Steve finally says, and Munson looks nearly shocked that he’s accepted.
Credit to him, though: he doesn’t back out. He just slides his jacket off, tosses it up over the wall of one of the bathroom stalls, rolls up his sleeves, and gestures for Steve to lean over the sink.
“Hot or cold?” he asks, going for the taps.
“Hot,” Steve answers immediately; he doesn’t need any other cold liquid on his head today.
“Hm.”
“What?”
“Nothing,” Munson says airily, turning on the water. “You just kinda strike me as a cold shower guy. Like, up at dawn, go for a run, take a cold shower – all that weird jock shit.”
It isn’t intended to mock, Steve realizes as Munson tests the water temperature—the school pipes take forever to heat up—but to tease. It’s a joke, and Steve is invited in on it. And anyway, it’s… actually kind of close to the mark, so Steve doesn’t say anything at all for a moment as he puts his head as close to the faucet as he can get it and Munson places one cupped hand over the back of his neck and uses the other to scoop water over Steve’s hair.
“Cold water is better for your hair. Not that you’d know anything about that.” Steve finally says, hoping that his own teasing tone carries even with the way he has to raise his voice to be heard over the running water.
Luckily, Munson sounds amused when he answers. “Oh! Shots fucking fired. I see how it is!” Even as he’s pretending at being offended, his fingers stay gentle against Steve’s scalp as he tries to scrub out the dried mess, and Steve fights very, very hard not to shudder.
He can’t remember when the last time someone touched him with gentle intent was. Maybe he’d gotten a hug from Dustin last week?
Shit, that’s fucking pathetic.
He tries even harder not to lean into the touch, into the surprisingly kind hands on the back of his neck and on his scalp, tries hard not to act like some kind of touch-starved weirdo and make Munson regret offering to help.
The irony of the fact that Steve is trying not to act like a freak in front of Eddie Munson is not lost on him.
After another couple of minutes of Munson manipulating Steve’s head this way and that, doing his best to be thorough, he lets Steve go entirely and shuts the water off.
“That’s probably as good as I’m gonna be able to get it,” he says, pushing another handful of paper towels at Steve as he stands up.
“Better than I could’ve done here,” Steve says with a shrug, rubbing the paper towels over his hair and grimacing as he can feel it frizzing in about a hundred different directions.
When he finishes, he turns to look in the mirror, watching in real time as it droops over his forehead and tickles at his wet shirt collar. Munson stands next to him, watching without judgement, but with what feels like an inappropriate amount of fascination.
“Well, I’m not going to lie to you,” Munson says at last, “you look a little like a sad, wet dog.”
Steve’s eyes snap to Munson with a glare. “Gee, thanks.”
“Some people are into that!” Munson insists, holding his hands up placatingly. “That droopy aesthetic, with the big, brown puppy eyes. Someone might just wanna scoop you up and take you home to take care of you. It’s a thing.”
Do you want to? – the question comes immediately and unbidden to Steve’s head, and he quickly shakes it away. They might be on amiable terms right now, teasing each other a little, but he isn’t sure that wouldn’t be a bridge too far.
(He isn’t even sure it is teasing. For a moment, he’d had the genuine urge to ask.)
“Anyway, I think most of the mess is out of your hair, but I’m pretty sure your shirt is toast,” Munson goes on, gesturing to the brown stain around the collar, over one shoulder, and probably down the back.
If he’d been wearing a darker color today, it might’ve been alright, but of course today he’d chosen light blue. Steve sighs, plucking at the front of the shirt. If he can’t salvage it, he might as well ditch it; it’s getting uncomfortably stiff and tacky with the dried milk, and he’d honestly rather stick it out in his undershirt for as long as it takes him to get to the locker room than walk around with evidence of Hargrove’s little stunt all over him.
He untucks the shirt and yanks it over his head, no need to be careful of his hair, emerging from the depths of it to find Munson staring at him in a stunned sort of silence.
“What?” Steve asks. “If it’s wrecked, anyway, I might as well get rid of it. I’ve got a spare shirt in my gym locker I can go grab.”
Munson blinks at him, almost like he’s trying to clear his head. “Or!” he practically shouts – possibly louder than he meant to, since he continues more quietly, “Or, you could just ditch for the rest of the day. I mean, you have any particularly interesting classes after lunch you feel the need to attend?”
“Not really,” Steve admits with a huff of a laugh. “But leaving after that feels a little like– letting Hargrove win. Like I’m retreating or some shit.”
“Nah, don’t think of it like that.” Munson tosses an arm over Steve shoulders, waving his other in front of both of them, like he’s trying to show Steve a grand vision and they aren’t both just staring at the ugly tile on the bathroom wall. “Think of it as cutting class and getting free weed from Hawkins High’s most esteemed dealer.”
Steve turns to look at Munson, staring at him more closely than he’s ever had reason to, and realizing there are tiny freckles on his face. “What, seriously?”
“Sure.” Munson shrugs. “Lemme smoke you out, Harrington. Seems like a good way to let your stress go for a bit – though I am just a little biased.”
“Why?” Steve asks; he doesn’t understand the sudden turn this day has taken, the sudden and bizarre kindness offered that he doesn’t even know what he’s done to deserve.
Munson’s eyes slide away from Steve, though his arm notably stays draped over his shoulders. “Been where you are. It’s not great. And, I mean, if it had happened last year, then, admittedly, I probably wouldn’t have given as much of a shit. Jock on jock violence, whatever. But you,” he glances back at Steve, “you’re genuinely trying to be, like, a good person. And I don’t think you should be punished for that. I think, in fact, that you could probably use a friend.”
“I…” The words stick in Steve’s throat, because what the hell can he even say to that? On anyone else, Steve would have assumed an ulterior motive, but Munson had infused it with so much awkward sincerity that Steve can’t help but realize it’s probably the nicest thing anyone’s said or offered to do for him in… he’s not even sure how long.
His silence must stretch on a little too long, though, because the hopeful light in Munson’s eyes fades a bit, and he begins to slide his arm off of Steve’s shoulder. “Or, y’know, you can tell me to fuck off, because I’m, like, way overstepping some boundaries, and–”
“We should go to my place,” Steve blurts, while grabbing Munson’s wrist for some insane reason.
“What?” Munson blinks over at him, (understandably) startled.
“My place. We should go there to smoke. If you still want to.” Steve could cringe for how stilted the whole thing is coming out. “I want to be able to take a real shower.”
Munson stares at him for a moment longer before laying a hand over his heart with a gasp, suddenly leaning heavily into Steve’s side and forcing Steve to wrap an arm around his waist so they don’t both lose their balance.
“I see how it is!” Munson gasps dramatically. “My sink shower just wasn’t good enough!”
Steve holds in a laugh. “Your sink shower was… fine. But I’ve got milk dried in other uncomfortable places, so unless you want to wash my back for me, too, we should go back to mine.”
Munson’s gaze snaps back to Steve, something a little odd in it, and – oh. Oh, that hadn’t sounded quite like Steve had meant it. It had sounded a little like an offer of the kind you don’t go around making to just anybody.
Steve braces himself, waiting for the reaction (he doubts if Munson would get any kind of physical, but there will probably be an awkward pulling away and sudden remembering of something he has to do literally anywhere else that afternoon), but all Munson does is break into a sly smile and say, “I could, but I’d have to charge you extra.”
Steve can’t help it: he laughs, giving Munson a good-natured shove, who finally releases Steve but doesn’t stumble more than a couple of steps away.
“Meet you at my place?” Steve offers, balling up his shirt and dropping it on top of his notebooks as he grabs them from the shelf. “Half an hour?”
“Wouldn’t miss it.” Munson gives him a corny little salute before grabbing his jacket from over the stall wall and preceding Steve to the bathroom door.
“Munson,” Steve finds himself calling out, just as the other boy’s hand closes around the door handle; Munson glances back and Steve fights the urge to look away. “Uh. Thanks. For, like… yeah. Thanks.”
Whatever meaning Munson takes out of Steve’s absolutely eloquent verbal vomit of gratitude, it makes him smile. “No need for thanks, man,” he says. “I’m honestly a little surprised to say it, but the pleasure was definitely mine.”
And then he disappears out the door, leaving Steve in the bathroom wondering how the hell his day had taken this turn, and just what destination it’s leading him to.
And thinking that he’s honestly a little excited to find out.
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sirxlla · 1 month ago
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Sorry - Halsey (Batboys)
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Dick: "and never really understood, the way you laid your eyes on me in ways that no one ever could."
To everyone, Dick was always put together. He was a rock, never broken, never sad or angry, just perfect. It was so far from the truth. He felt lonely, angry, and depressed.
This time of year was so taxing on Dick, he had started having nightmares about his parents and that night of the fall. Usually, this time of year, he breezed through it without so many nightmares, but this year was hell. He saw the fall over and over, and his blame for himself came back with a vengeance.
"No. No! No- No- Nononon! No!" Dick woke up with a start, sweat pooled in every crevice having dampened his shirt and pillow. Of course, he woke you up as well, and you went into comfort mode, rubbing his back.
"Hey...I'm right here if you need anything." You said with a soft whispering tone so as not to spike his heart rate more than it already was.
"What if it's my fault? What if it all is? What if everyone's gonna get hurt because of me?" Dick placed his head on your chest and started sobbing as you rubbed circles onto his back.
"Honey, as long as I've known you, I've known that as long as you draw breath, you'll help as many as you can...You'd give someone the shirt off your back and the shoes you were wearing just because they asked. You're an amazing person, and the world is so much better because you're in it. I don't want you to think any differently about it." You rubbed his back as his tears made the silk of your pajama shirt stick to your chest.
"I'm sorry." He wiped his eyes and sniffled. "I shouldn't be crying, everyone sees me like-"
"Hey, I don't give a shit how everyone sees you, and I would never think less of you 'cause you're brave enough to show me how you're feeling. Okay?" You look into those cerulean eyes shining in the dim light of the room.
"I am so proud of you and no one here would ever be disappointed in you, Honey." You hug him as he nuzzles into your chest and calms down a bit until he falls asleep, you rub his back until you fall asleep with him. His drool is now the only thing dampening your sleep shirt.
Jason: "I've missed your calls for months, it seems, I don't realize how mean I can be."
You had been calling him over and over, and he would read it; you could see he did. He was just ignoring it. He had disappeared into what felt like thin air. Had you done something wrong or was he in one of those moods of his where he thinks he's not good enough for anyone?
He's sitting alone in some hotel room in Central City. Jason left everyone alone; he needed some time to sort himself out. He knew that rule about how you have to love yourself to love anyone else, and right now, he couldn't stand the sight of himself. You didn't deserve his bullshit, you didn't deserve his demons that are drowning him alive.
You have sent his messages daily since he disappeared into the blue.
7:36 A.M. Jan 14th - "Everyone loves you." ~Read by JT❤️‍🔥
3:59 P.M. Jan 16th - "I miss you bunches." ~Read by JT❤️‍🔥
2:12 A.M. Jan 17th - "Just stay safe for me? I'd be in pieces if anything happened to you." ~Read by JT❤️‍🔥
8:36 A.M. Jan 19th - "Sorry forgot to text yesterday, I've been so tired, but I still miss you every moment you aren't here." ~Read by JT❤️‍🔥
5:26 P.M. Jan 20th - "Dinners always ready for whenever you come home. I promise." ~Read by JT❤️‍🔥
1:41 A.M. Jan 22nd - "Tokyo misses you, he meows by the door constantly. Please come home, our family misses you." ~Read by JT❤️‍🔥
10:38 A.M. Jan 23rd - "Jase, please. I can't sleep well without you. I don't know what's going on; please explain." ~Read by JT❤️‍🔥
11:37 P.M. Jan 24th - "Jase, Please come home. I'm sorry for whatever I did." ~Read by JT❤️‍🔥
He read the texts. What you did? You did nothing. He realized how stupid and selfish he was being, such an asshole. His fingers typed before he could fully decide what he wanted to do.
"What did you do? Babygirl, you did nothing wrong. I'm coming home, I'm sorry I've just been so stupid about everything recently. I've been worried I'm not enough but I realize I can spend forever getting closer to my idea of perfect for you until you kick me out or my heart stops beating. I'm sorry and I'll be home soon."
You had cried yourself to sleep that night, and you were so exhausted you hadn't seen the text. Tokyo started meowing, and it woke you; you checked the clock, and it was 3:53. You had only been asleep for a few hours.
"Tokyo, go to bed. He's not here." You cry into your pillow, your face is swollen, and your eyes still red from crying earlier.
"I am, Babygirl. I'm so sorry." Jason saw your face and how sad you were; his heart felt heavy in his chest, and he was angry at himself for hurting you so deeply. You didn't know what to do, so you stared at him as he crawled over to you and hugged you. It had been a hard week without him and him hugging you is what finally broke you. You sobbed into his chest, holding onto him tightly.
"Don't you ever do that again, You Asshole!" You sobbed angrily, hugging him tightly as you breathed in the smell of smoke that lingered on his skin.
"I promise, I never will. God, I'm so sorry. I'll spend forever apologizing for this. I'm so fuckin sorry." Jason heard the sadness in your voice and held you tighter til you both fell asleep.
Bruce: "Sorry I could be so blind, Didn't mean to leave you and all of the things that we had behind."
Being Batman and trying to be a billionaire on top of it just really didn't give him the time to be in a relationship. You knew this, and you tried your hardest to make sure that he never felt bad about it, but it doesn't mean that it didn't feel like shit every single time you wanted to do something with him or you had something planned and he had to change it.
Not only does this include dates and evenings and dinner but it was also sometimes that he was just so exhausted he would fall asleep in the middle of whatever you had planned anyways, it sucks.
You love him so deeply, but he's so busy all the time, and you're trying to give it the benefit of the doubt and just hope that, at some point, you'll come first to a degree. You held out for so long, but after a while, you just couldn't do it; you left.
Alfred noticed the note on the counter; if it had been Bruce, he wouldn't have noticed it for weeks.
"Master Wayne, I believe this is for you." Alfred hands the note to Bruce as Bruce is just about to go back out as Batman.
"Dear Bruce, My Love,
This has to be one of the hardest decisions I've ever made but I know it's the only option that I have where I don't feel guilty for taking up your time."
He started reading and then noticed the marks where tears had damped the paper as he continued to read.
"I would never ask you to put me over the people in Gotham. I know why you do what you do,, but it doesn't make it any less hard when I barely see you, and then when I do, you're covered in bruises, and you can barely get out of bed. I can't do this anymore. I love you, and it pains me so much to do this. I can't live a life where I feel so alone; it feels like I'm dating a ghost. I know that in my heart of hearts, I cannot handle this, and I know a child definitely can't. I'm pregnant and I'd rather do this alone than make you feel guilty for not being there or make myself feel guilty for staying. I love you, and I don't want to try to change you; I know what you do, what you do. I'm sorry, My Love.
Sincerely & Yours Always"
He finished reading the letter, and his heart dropped. You were pregnant? When? When did that happen? He should have known.
"I want you to see about Mr. Fox taking over my role in Wayne Enterprises. I'll still own the company the same, but I'll have more time." He asks Alfred; Bruce knows that this is something he should have done a long time ago. He's been missing you anyway, but now he is about to miss out on you for the rest of his life, and he is about to miss out on his kid.
Not even a few days pass before Bruce finds you, he's drenched in rain in civilian clothes. The rain just enhances the smell of his cologne. He looks even more tired than he usually does. It's clear he hasn't slept.
"I will do anything you ask just please don't leave me." He asks you as you open your door and in his hands held your favorite flowers. Bruce's eyes glanced down at your belly as you pulled him in to get him out of the rain, you were showing. He cursed himself in his mind. How could he even have remotely not noticed, considering how far along you are?
You grabbed towels from your hotel bathroom and began to dry him off.
"I let Lucius take over my job at Wayne Enterprises, so I'll have more time for you,, and I promise I will have more time for you, and I'll have more time for a little one. God, can't believe I didn't notice all the signs were there. How's everything been going?" He asks as his hands hover over your belly, asking for silent permission, which you allow when your hands guide him to your tiny bump.
"It's been okay; sleeping's been a bit rough, this mattress is like concrete, and the morning sickness is a bitch, but overall, I'm okay." You told him as his hands moved themselves under your shirt to feel his hands closer to the growing baby.
"Are you planning on coming home? I- I know we usually sleep during most of the day but I- I really wanna be here through this." You could hear the vulnerability and his voice something that rarely ever slipped to that degree.
"I- Yeah... I really didn't want to do this alone either just left because I didn't want you to feel bad."
"Sweetheart, I will never make you feel like you have to do anything alone again if I can help it." His hands still gently rubbing your belly.
"Well, we're definitely not going to make it home tonight, not in this rain, and I still have the room for the night."
He nodded, and the both of you laid down to watch whatever was on TV; it had been a long time since he had felt anything this domestic or 'normal.' It was so nice and calming, something he now had time for so much more with you.
Tim: "But I still know your birthday and your mother's favorite song."
Breaking up was never something either of you wanted to do, but you wanted to go to school in the U.K. that has always been a dream of yours ever since you were a kid, and Tim would never be the type of person to hold you back from your dreams even if it meant he'd get hurt.
At the start, the two of you texted all the time, and you'd show him things all the time, but slowly, he stopped responding, so you stopped texting. He couldn't bear the thought of not being with you, but he had responsibilities here in Gotham; he couldn't just go.
"Hey, Numb Nuts. I asked you a question." Jason prodded as he finally got Tim's attention after what felt like forever.
"Huh?" Tim was confused; he was so in his head that he didn't even remotely hear what Jason said.
"I said, 'Why are you so doom and gloomy?' You're moping around the place like your puppy died." Jason had noticed how low Tim had been for the last month; he thought it might have to do with you, but you left six months ago.
"You not gettin' any more texts from your girlfriend?" Jason asked a bit cheeky but it was clear that concern laced the tonality of his voice.
"No, I stopped responding. I don't wanna make her feel like she has to respond to me." Tim mumbled.
"I know you're not stupid, so why are you acting like a dumbass?" Jason stated with annoyance in his tone.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means you're being a dumbass. You know she loves you and you're ignoring her? Why the hell didn't you go with her anyway?"
"I have responsibilities here-"
"No, fuck your responsibilities; there are plenty of people who can take over for whatever you're doing. You get your ass on a flight and go to her before I beat your ass." Jason stated as he grabbed the laptop out of Tim's hands and started booking a flight.
"Go pack, you're leaving in an hour."
"Who's leaving in an hour?" Dick stretched as he walked in.
"Tim is, he's going to see his girlfriend."
"No, I'm not. Guys, I have things to-"
"Yes, you are." Jason and Dick both cut him off. Dick rushed Tim to his room and started helping Tim pack before he could even begin to process what was going on.
Jason texted you, "I have a surprise, go to the airport at 10:30. Don'tt be late."
In your mind you thought 'Aww, Jason's so sweet. My best friend's gonna meet me here.' So you responded.
"Will do. 🫡"
Several hours passed and you arrived at the airport looking around at baggage claim for Jason. He was a bitch bitch, hard to miss. You kept looking around when you spotted Tim and your heart lept in your chest, running over to him and hugging him deeply.
"Oh my god!" You squealed to his suprise. He thought you mightve moved on but hpw you were acting made it clear you hadnt. His arms squeezed you. After the hug you grabbed one of his rolling bags and helped him to your car.
"Oh my god, it took me so long to learn to drive on the other side of the road..." you started rambling and telling him all about your trips and every little detail as you drove him to your flat. His eyes followed every detail on your face, he wasnt even listening just in awe of you. Tim realized just how much he missed you, he broke out of his trance as you lead him inside.
"I bought everybody stuff, I have a box for Jason and Damian and Bruce. I am so exvited for everyone to get their stuff, its gonna be so fun..." Each box had different stuff that interested each of them, you had a box for Tim too. You still remembered everything even though its been six months. His heart swelled at how sweet you are and he just kissed you right there which interrupted your new ramblings. You shoulders fell and your hands found Tim's face as per normal abd the both of you realized home isn't a place, its a person.
Damian: "And so it seems I broke your heart, My ignorance has struck again"
He had another gala to go to for some charity event; besides, this was something his father demanded he do. It wasn't like he had a choice, did he? He's been Wayne Enterprises' new CEO since his father retired; he's been sucked up in events, meetings, and planning.
Although he had a lot on his plate it was no excuse for how distant he was being. Damian knows the date or at least he should. If this relationship is as important to him as it is to you he'll know the date. Your anniversary and this wasn't one of those little petty short ones or some shit. This was five years.
You decorated the apartment, lit candles, wrapped presents, decorated the bed with rose petals, put on music, and even made dinner and his favorite dessert. You were so excited and so proud of yourself, it took you all day while he was at work to do so.
The only reason you weren't at work is that you took it off for this reason. You thought he'd take a day off, too, but it's okay. He didn't cause you had time to surprise him. You paid for everything yourself, you didn't wanna constantly have to borrow money from him, and it was always good to have a rainy day fund.
The front door alarm chirps, letting you know he's home, and your smile grows larger. He remembered! Oh, you were so excited but that excitement faded when he just went to the bedroom? Confusion filled your features. 'What?' You followed him to the room.
Damian was quickly stripping out of his work suit into an expensive one he uses when he has to go to galas.
"Hello?" You asked all dolled up for him.
"Have you seen my blue silk tie anywhere?" He asked, not even remotely noticing the petals or how you looked.
"No, I haven't seen your fuckin tie." Snapping at him but he just rolled his eyes and didn't notice. He quickly got dressed, sprayed himself with cologne, and made his way out the door again.
You felt your heart get crushed in your chest, he might as well have carved it out and stomped all over it. 'He can remember the date for the gala but not our anniversary?' You sat there and sobbed, it's been the same date every year for the last five years. You ate dinner alone, cleaned everything up, blew out the candles, and raked the petals half hazardly into the trash.
A few candles got accidentally left out, having forgotten to drain the bathtub, several petals still lined the floor, and the presents were still left on the table.
You showered yourself and washed off the makeup that felt like it took you hours to get right, the red lipstick staining the washcloth and your lips. You quickly changed and crawled into bed, alone.
Damian showed up at the apartment hours later, he knew you'd be asleep. The galas ran long so why the hell would you need to stay up and wait for him?
He was starving; the galas didn't serve much food. The only thing you could get in abundance at a gala was alcohol, and Damian never wanted to dull his senses like that, so he didn't drink. He went to the fridge, noticing his favorite food; he put some on a plate and heated it in the microwave, making sure to stop it before it beeped so he wouldn't wake you.
He moved over to the dining table that was covered in presents, and as soon as he saw them, his heart fell into his ass. 'The 18th? Shit! I- Fuck. It's our anniversary, God Damn it.' Damian was tempted to run into the room and apologize but what would it do? It would just wake you up and that would be even more rude on top of him being a jackass already.
He ate his food and cleaned up the rest of the apartment. He needed to figure out an apology quickly. 'How could I be so stupid? Wait, that cake in the fridge said 'Marry me?' She- she wants to marry me. God, I feel awful.'
He didn't know what to do to fix this, he could make some sorta big grand gesture, but those always felt like trying to gander sympathy points, and he wasn't gonna do that shit. Damian was gonna be a man and admit how shitty of a person he is. He would just make you breakfast and apologize, take all the blame 'as one should when they're a jackass'
You came out of the room the next day, your hair messy, face puffy, eyes red, lips still stained fromnthe red lipstick, in your robe with your headphones on. You noticed he wasn't beside you and figured he pulled an all-nighter, and you went to wash your face and get coffee.
You pull out the contacts you forgot to take out last night, you rinse your eyes and throw the contacts out, putting your glasses on before going to get coffee.
As soon as your hand reaches for the coffee pot, Damian's hands find your hips.
"Uh uh, you go park yourself right over there. I'm a jackass so I'm doing anything and everything for you today. Okay?"
"Damian, it's just a date on a calendar." You tried to just brush it off.
"It's not just a date on a calendar, it's everything, and I'm so sorry. I'm not going to sit here and make excuses, I forgot because I was so wrapped up in work. I disregarded the only thing that matters in the entire world to me because I got wrapped up in stupid shit that doesn't even remotely matter as much as you do." Gently grabbing your face and looking into your eyes, the redness and puffiness had gone down but lord did his heart skip a beat to see you in those glasses.
"Now, we can't do it over necessarily, but I'm cutting my work hours. They will be designated for five hours, and then the other three or four will be crime-fighting or whatever else I have going on, and the other fourteen will always be yours. Obviously, you'll have more on vacation days or sick days or days; I just don't want to go to work. I promise you my time whenever you need it even if it is during work hours. I would be content with losing everything else but you, okay?" He continued as he kept gazing into your eyes, and you could see the level of anger he had for himself and how sympathetic he was to help you; you could see the pain in his chest that originated from him hurting you.
"Okay." You sniffled and a few tears fell down your face.
"Also, I know it was supposed to be a surprise, but if you want to marry me, I'll do it right now; we can get engaged and plan the most beautiful wedding ever. Whatever you want, it's yours, and if I can't get it, I will find a way." He said as he wiped your tears from your cheeks. You pulled him into a hug and nodded; he wasn't off the hook; hell, you'd let him off the hook before he ever let himself off of it. That was one thing you loved about him when he made a promise; he stuck to it, and there was no one more disappointed in him right now than himself.
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luveline · 1 year ago
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Hi Jade! I’ve been on my criminal minds rerun and it made me come up with this Spencer request if you’re taking them right now! Something along the lines of the reader and Spencer being together and she becomes pregnant but he pieces it together before she does!
tysm for requesting! hope this is ok♡ 1k
cw fem!reader has a positive attitude towards her pregnancy. vaguely adult theme
"I really don't think I can go," you say, flopping down on the bed. 
Spencer laughs and shakes out the shirt in his hands, hoping the creases from the dryer will iron themselves before dinner tonight. "You always say that."
"I really mean it this time. I miss Hotch, I do, and I'm glad he's out of WITSEC, but thinking about the restaurant is making me queasy." 
"Really? I looked it up, it's a nice place. They have their Grade A, it should be spotless in there. I'm pretty sure they almost got a Michelin star." 
You groan, turning onto your side. "I looked too. The entire menu is seafood," you whine. 
"What's wrong with that?" Spencer asks, giving you a quizzical look. 
"The smell." You rub your nose against his pillow and sigh. "I don't feel good. Didn't rough me up in my sleep, did you?" 
"I would never do that," he says, putting the last of the laundry aside to sit by your hip. His hand rests naturally against the slight curve of your side, fingertips pushing the hem of your shirt up enough to steal a glance at your back. 
He wouldn't say this aloud and it doesn't matter, but you've gained a little weight recently. Actually, it does matter in that he thinks it's adorable, but he knows that telling your partner they've gained weight is a faux pas. He likes it, anyhow. It's happy weight. 
Things are so serious now but they don't feel serious. There's no solemness in your relationship, just comfort. He's putting on weight in tandem. 
"You really don't want to go?" Spencer asks. The earlier he lets Hotch know the better. 
You wrap an arm around your stomach. "Sorry, Spence. I'm so sorry, I've felt sick all day and I think it'll just be a repeat of yesterday morning." You puked before breakfast, the smell of eggs too much to bear.
Spencer feels it click into place then and there. The weight, the puking, your changing taste. Your sore chest and lower back, your sensitivity. 
He pushes you gently, a hand on your hip to encourage you down. Careful, he lays down next to you, propping his head on the pillow as he brings hand up to hold you. He can't know for sure… but if you're pregnant as he suspects, it fits. And more than that, it's insane. He doesn't know how to handle this besides wrapping you up in his arms. He'll keep you forever, if he can. 
"Don't be sorry," he says, his voice faraway. You relax completely in his arms, sliding your leg over his to lock him in. "Does your back still hurt?" 
"My chest, Spence," you lament, "it feels like I'm winded. I think I'm coming down with something. Maybe you shouldn't be near me." 
"In that case, I'm staying right here." 
You laugh softly, the warmth of it a circle on his shoulder. "I can call Hotch myself and say sorry. I'll feel better in a few days, and we'll reschedule, and I'll pay even if he tries to." 
Spencer draws a line up your back. Now or never. 
He steels his nerves, the beginning of a hypothesis hesitating on his tongue. Your symptoms in addition to your irregular period and your regular sex lives points toward pregnancy. How does he say that? How should he say it? Should he even bring it up? Perhaps he should wait until you discover it yourself. And you aren't definitely pregnant, it's just a possibility. Maybe you're simply sick—
"Hey, earth to handsome," you whisper, cupping his cheek in your soft palm. You smile as he snaps out of his thoughts. "Hey. I lost you for a few seconds, where'd you go?" 
"Nowhere. I'm here." 
Your smile gets impossibly fond. It's not dissimilar to how you usually look at him. "Are you okay?" 
"Fine. I love you." 
"I love you," you say. 
There's something about you now, this gaussian blur to you. Sunlight seeps in lazily through the blinds thick as honey, a golden kiss to your skin where you lay face to face with him, and your I love you makes him want to cry. This is all ridiculous and amazing and he doesn't know what to do, doesn't know how to make his mouth move into the right words. 
"What is it?" you ask. You know him better than anyone. 
"I think you're pregnant." Spencer winces, though he can't beat his smile into submission. "I mean. You could be pregnant." 
"Why do you think that?" you ask, visibly startled. 
"Your sensitivity to strong smells, your soreness, your late period, to name the more obvious. That's not factoring in your worsening low iron lately, and your headaches." You make a strange sound he doesn't like. "What?" he asks worriedly.  
"I'm late," you say into yourself, looking past him as you puzzle it over. 
"It's a good thing, if you are. I mean, it's an amazing thing if you want it to be. I'm saying everything wrong. It's only amazing if you want it to be, I want it to be. But I'm on your side no matter what." He grimaces into his hands, rubbing his face with both palms. 
You sit as he panics. He clicks his neck looking up, racing to follow you, alarmed as you shimmy down the bed toward the ensuite bathroom. 
"What are you–" 
"I'm gonna take a test." 
"Wait a second." Spencer catches your hands before you can get too far, pulling you back to the end of the bed to sit down. "Wait. Is it– is it bad? If you are?" 
You look down at your stomach briefly. Anyone else might miss it, but Spencer can't not follow your behaviour, and the way you're acting now makes him think he got it wrong. That you won't be happy. 
You grab Spencer's hand. "You know, it's not funny. All our friends are gonna ask how I found out, and I'm gonna have to admit that you noticed it first." Your eyes track up his face almost shyly, and soon your smile is as blistering as his. 
Spencer bends under your weight as you jump up, throwing your arms behind his neck, your lips smashed to his ear. "I love you," you whisper urgently, "so much. This is good, right? This is really good." 
"Are you kidding?" he asks incredulously. 
Spencer takes your face into two hands and kisses you as hard as he ever has. He realises a second in that he'd much rather be squeezing you, caging you into the circle of his arms unrepentant. 
"We have a really good excuse to miss dinner," Spencer says.
He sounds close to tears. You're worse, laughing wetly as you pull him into the bathroom to take your test. 
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