#where are you dad and why did you leave........... | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ijustwannabecool · 2 days ago

Note

I love the way you write soft! Max so much. Would you write max and best friend reader who’s been in love with him for years but it’s one sided, until he realizes after she’s starting to date other people that he is in love with her?

Late Realizations

Max Verstappen x Best Friend!Reader

Summary…You’ve loved Max for years. Quietly. Completely. When you finally start dating someone else, he realizes—too late—that he might’ve been in love with you the whole time. But love, if it's real, always finds its way home.

Warnings: Unrequited love (turned requited), jealousy, emotional tension, soft heartbreak, cursing, comfort, fluff, past almost-kiss

A/N: I hope I did the story justice and that you enjoy it! Thank you for your request, it meant the world to me. Happy reading and have a beautiful day :)

Like, reblog, and comment :)

----

You’ve always known where you stand with Max.

Right beside him.

Not behind. Not in front. Just beside.

It started like this:

You were nine. He was ten. You were the new girl at the track, tagging along with your older cousin who karted on weekends. You were trying to tie your shoelaces and stay out of the way when a boy crashed into you—literally.

His kart spun out. Your laces weren’t even tied.

“Shit!” he’d yelled, hopping out and brushing gravel off his arm. You were crying. He froze, wide-eyed. “Don’t cry! Are you—are you okay?”

You nodded, barely.

He blinked. Then scrambled to pull something from his pocket: a tiny, squished chocolate bar.

“Here,” he said, shoving it into your hand. “Don’t cry. I’ll get in trouble.”

It was the worst peace offering. You took it anyway.

You saw him again a week later. Then again. And again. Until he started waiting for you by the snack cart. Until his dad learned your name. Until you became the girl Max always talked about.

Somewhere between shared ice creams and races watched from behind fences, you became friends.

Somewhere after that, you fell in love with him.

——

𝑷𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒕𝑫𝒂𝒚 — 𝒀/𝑵’𝒔𝑷𝑶𝑽

You set your phone down slowly after sending the text.

Date tonight. 7:30. Wish me luck?

You hadn’t planned on telling Max. It’s just dinner with someone from the gym. A guy with a charming smile and average conversation skills. But it feels… momentous.

The first real step forward in years.

You stare at the screen, waiting. Five minutes pass. Then ten. Finally:

Max 🦁: Why are you going out with him?

Not good luck or have fun. Just that.

You sigh. You don’t reply.

You leave the apartment in a soft dress and your favorite lipstick—the one Max once said made you look like a movie star. Your hands tremble slightly on the steering wheel the whole way there.

You wonder, as you park, if he’s still thinking about it. If he cares.

——

You don’t expect the flood of messages midway through dinner:

Max 🦁: Did you lock the balcony door? Do you think your spare charger’s still in my travel bag? What’s that restaurant we went to after Spa? The one with the weird lights?

You stare at the screen, heart thudding. He’s never needed this much attention. Not like this. Not from you. Not all at once.

And then your phone lights up again.

Incoming call: Max 🦁

You excuse yourself, heart in your throat.

“Max? What’s going on?”

A pause.

“I’m at your place,” he says. “My ceiling light’s not working. Can I borrow your toolbox?”

You blink. “…It’s not.”

“I know.”

Silence stretches.

“Are you okay?” you whisper.

Another pause. A breath. “No. But I didn’t know who else to call.”

Your voice is softer than it should be. “I’ll be home soon.”

And you are.

——

You don’t talk about it. You never do. But when he’s sitting next to you later, watching some rerun in silence, you feel it building. The thing you’ve always avoided naming.

You glance at him. His arms crossed tightly. His jaw clenched.

“You okay?” you ask.

He nods without looking. “Yeah.”

But his voice sounds like no.

You don’t push. You just lean back into the couch and watch the glow of the screen dance across both your faces.

And you wonder—how much longer you can keep pretending this doesn’t hurt.

——

Max’s POV — The Realisation

It hits him on a Tuesday.

He’s mid-sim training, watching old data, and something feels off. The rhythm’s wrong. His head’s not in it.

He pulls off the headset. Stares blankly at the screen.

His mind wanders—to your laugh, your handwriting on his fridge notes, your perfume lingering in his car. Your stupid, charming date.

He remembers your hand brushing his in the grocery store two weeks ago. How he felt it for hours after.

He remembers Monaco. The almost-kiss. How his heart beat out of sync for days.

He remembers last night. You sitting on his couch, too quiet.

And suddenly, it clicks.

Oh.

He’s in love with you.

Has been. For longer than he wants to admit.

He fucked it up.

And now?

You might be moving on.

He bolts upright.

He can’t let that happen.

Not without trying.

Not without telling you first.

——

He tries. He really does.

He sees you again three days later, standing at the paddock hospitality with your sunglasses pushed up into your hair and your arms crossed as you laugh at something Charles says.

Max doesn’t like it. At all.

He walks up. You smile like nothing’s changed. Like you don’t notice the chaos beneath his skin.

“Hey, stranger,” you tease. “Did your light survive the week?”

He forces a laugh. “Barely.”

Charles raises a brow, watching the exchange like a hawk. He knows. Of course he knows.

“So,” Max says casually, trying to sound unaffected, “any more dates lined up?”

You pause. Not because you’re caught off guard, but because you’re deciding how honest to be.

“Maybe,” you say, voice light. “There’s this guy who works with the F2 team. Nice smile. Very single.”

Max’s jaw twitches.

Charles coughs into his drink, trying not to laugh.

You don’t mean it to be cruel. But Max feels it like a punch anyway.

He doesn’t sleep that night. Instead, he lies in bed, staring at the ceiling fan, heart hammering.

You’re slipping away from him. Slowly. Quietly.

And he’s the one who left the door open.

——

It’s late. Quiet. The kind of quiet that hums with something unsaid.

You’re both in his kitchen, after a long evening—just the two of you. You came over to borrow a jacket for a costume party, but stayed for wine, leftover pasta, and some old F1 replays you always pretend to care about.

Max is sitting on the counter, legs swinging gently. You’re across from him, barefoot, in one of his oversized hoodies.

The kind of night that used to feel normal. Effortless.

But now, there’s tension in the air. A weight behind every glance.

You’re laughing softly at a story he’s telling, one you’ve heard before but still love. And then—

You both go quiet at the same time.

The pause stretches. You look at him. He looks at you.

It feels like Monaco. Again.

His eyes flick to your lips.

Yours don’t move.

“Max,” you whisper.

“Yeah?”

You’re not sure what you were going to say. It’s stuck in your throat.

He leans in slightly. Just enough to test the air. His knees brush yours.

You lean in too—barely—but he feels it. Feels the shift.

“Why haven’t you ever…” you trail off.

He looks at you, eyes wide. Vulnerable.

“I was scared,” he admits. “I didn’t want to lose you.”

You nod slowly. “And now?”

Max swallows hard. “Now I think I’m losing you anyway.”

It’s too much. You look down. You stand up. Break the moment before it breaks you.

“I should go,” you say, voice too soft.

Max doesn’t stop you.

Not yet.

But he will.

——

Flashback — Monaco, 2019

The suite was quiet, the champagne buzz soft behind his temples. Max had just finished a round of interviews, still riding the high of the podium. His hair was damp from the shower, his voice low and tired.

You were curled into the couch in his hotel hoodie, legs folded beneath you, mascara slightly smudged from laughing too hard an hour ago. He remembers that moment too vividly—how peaceful you looked. How close.

You’d been teasing him, saying you were going to steal his last protein bar if he didn’t stop winning.

He laughed. And then he looked at you.

Really looked.

The lighting was warm. Your lips were pink from the wine. You weren’t saying anything. You were just… smiling at him. Eyes soft.

He leaned forward. Slowly. Testing the air between you.

You didn’t move away. Your lips parted just barely. Your hand was resting close to his thigh. Too close.

And then—

His phone buzzed.

Loud. Jarring. A reminder.

You blinked, pulled back first.

“It’s late,” you whispered, standing. “We should sleep.”

He never reached for you again after that.

But he never forgot it.

——

Max’s POV — The Confession

He shows up at your door like he’s done it a thousand times.

Except this time, it’s different. He’s not coming to borrow sugar. He’s not here to drop off race merch you forgot at his flat. He’s here to undo years of silence.

You open the door, eyebrows raised. “Hey. What’s up?”

Max doesn’t answer immediately. His jaw tightens, then relaxes. He looks like a man on the edge of something big.

“Can I come in?” he asks.

You step aside. “Of course.”

You expect him to sit. He doesn’t. He stands in your living room like he’s holding his breath.

“I need to tell you something,” he says. “And I need you to just… let me say it.”

You nod. Slowly. Carefully.

Max rubs the back of his neck. “That night in Monaco. You remember?”

Your heart skips. You nod again.

“I was going to kiss you,” he says. “I wanted to. More than anything. And I didn’t. I let it go because I thought if I crossed that line, I’d lose you.”

He steps closer.

“And then I watched you go on dates with guys who don’t know your coffee order. Who don’t know your favorite movie or that you cry when you see baby ducks.”

You laugh wetly, one hand covering your mouth.

“I’ve been in love with you for a long time,” Max says. “And I think I was just too stupid—or too scared—to admit it. But I can’t do this anymore. I can’t pretend it doesn’t hurt. I can’t keep pretending I don’t want it to be me.”

You don’t say anything. You just stare at him, eyes glassy.

“I know I’m late,” he whispers. “But if there’s even a chance… please. Let me catch up.”

He finally takes a breath.

And waits.

——

You don’t speak right away.

You just stare at him, eyes stinging, throat tight, heart beating somewhere near your ears.

Of course, you remember Monaco.

You remember everything. The way he looked at you. The breath you held when he leaned in. The disappointment that lingered for days when he didn’t close the space.

You remember convincing yourself it didn’t mean anything.

But it did.

It always did.

You wrap your arms around yourself like a shield. “Do you know how long I waited for you to say that?”

Max blinks, startled.

You laugh, and it’s watery. “I used to practice it, you know? In the mirror. What I’d say if you ever told me you loved me.”

His voice is soft. “And what would you say?”

“I don’t remember the exact words,” you admit. “But I remember the feeling. That maybe, someday, you’d show up and say everything I was too scared to believe.”

Max steps closer, eyes searching yours. “I’ve been talking myself out of this for years. Every time I looked at you, I felt it. And then I’d hear myself say ‘best friend’ and convince myself that was safer.”

You nod slowly, tears threatening to spill. “I thought if I ever said anything, it would ruin us. But not saying it… ruined me too.”

There’s silence for a second, then Max reaches for your hand.

“I thought maybe if I kept you close, I’d never lose you. But I did lose you, didn’t I?” he murmurs.

“Almost,” you whisper. “You almost did.”

His thumb brushes over your knuckles.

“You were always there, Max,” you continue. “But you were never mine. And I wanted to be yours. I wanted to be the person you called first, the hand you held in front of the world.”

“You are,” he says, voice cracking. “I just didn’t let myself believe I could have you.”

You finally step into his arms.

He holds you tightly, like he’s afraid you’ll vanish if he lets go.

“You’re late,” you whisper again, resting your head against his chest.

“But I’m here,” he breathes. “I’m finally here.”

——

You sit on the couch together, a blanket thrown over your legs, two mugs of tea long forgotten on the table. It’s quiet—not the kind of silence that’s awkward, but the kind that hums with something new. Something tentative. Sacred.

Max looks over at you. “So… are we?”

You tilt your head. “Are we what?”

He flushes slightly, scratching the back of his neck. “Together. Like, officially. Do I get to call you mine now?”

You smile, slow and soft. “Only if I get to call you mine too.”

His grin breaks through. It’s the kind of smile that makes your stomach twist and your heart finally relax.

“You always could’ve,” he says.

You nudge him with your knee. “You’re unbearable.”

“Unbearably in love with you,” he quips.

You groan. “Okay, we’re dating, but don’t get cocky.”

He leans in, forehead to yours. “No promises.”

——

Epilogue — The Finally

It happens at a dinner in Monaco. One of those post-race gatherings that’s half celebration, half chaos. The whole crew’s there—Charles, Lando, Daniel, Lily, Kelly. Even Christian drops by for a minute before getting pulled into a conversation about tires.

You’re tucked beside Max at the end of the table, his hand resting on your knee, thumb tracing lazy circles over the fabric of your jeans.

You’ve never done this before. Not like this. Not with the world watching.

Daniel’s halfway through a story about a disastrous prank on Yuki when someone asks—point blank.

“So… are you two finally together or what?” It’s Charles, grinning like he already knows the answer.

The table goes still. All eyes shift to you.

Max squeezes your knee.

You smile, fingers intertwining with his. “Yeah,” you say simply. “We are.”

The reaction is immediate and chaotic.

“FINALLY!” Lando groans, dropping his head to the table.

“I told you!” Lily shouts, pointing a victorious finger at Daniel.

Kelly’s eyes glisten as she reaches for your hand. “You two were always meant to be. We all saw it.”

“About time,” Charles mutters, sipping his drink with a knowing smirk.

Daniel just whistles. “I lost money on this happening before 2022. You owe me, mate.”

Max laughs—really laughs, the sound full and warm—and leans in to kiss your cheek. “Told you they’d lose their minds.”

You beam, resting your head on his shoulder. “Worth the wait?”

He turns his face, presses a kiss to your temple.

“The best thing I’ve ever waited for.”

You stay like that for a moment, tucked into him as the people you love most celebrate what they’ve known all along.

That you and Max? You were never just friends.

You were always heading here. Together.

——

The party is long over. The voices, the laughter, the clinking glasses—they’ve all faded into memories wrapped in candlelight.

Now, it’s just the two of you.

You wake to the soft rustle of sheets and sunlight slipping through the linen curtains of Max’s apartment. His arm is around your waist, his nose pressed into your shoulder. He’s still asleep, breathing even and slow, like this is the first real rest he’s had in days.

You turn slowly, careful not to wake him.

But he stirs anyway, lashes fluttering as he blinks up at you with that sleep-hazed softness you secretly adore.

“Morning,” he mumbles.

“Hi,” you whisper, brushing your fingers through his messy hair.

He tightens his hold, pulling you a little closer. “You stayed.”

“I always used to stay,” you say softly.

He lifts his head just enough to meet your eyes. “But this is different now, isn’t it?”

You nod. “It is.”

Max shifts onto his side, propping himself up with one elbow. “I want to do this right,” he says. “Not just the dinners and kisses. I mean… really be with you. Wake up next to you. Make coffee with you. Go to races knowing you’re mine.”

You smile, heart warm and full. “Then let’s do it right.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead. “Start today?”

“Start now,” you say, pulling him down into a kiss.

The rest of the world can wait.

This moment—this soft, unhurried, long-awaited beginning—is yours.

——

A/N: As I said earlier, I hope I did your story justice and that you enjoyed it. If you have any more requests please feel free to send them my way. I can't wait to see what you guys send my way and what we can create together. Have a beautiful day today and I hope this brings you joy (:

#f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fic #max verstappen fanfic #max x wife!reader #max x reader #max verstappen #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x best friend!reader #max verstappen fluff

209 notes · View notes

jinjooha69 · 14 hours ago

Text

TOJI X READER !!!

Pairing - Toji fushiguro x reader (dad's friend! AU)

Under His Roof

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Content Warnings (Please Read): Age gap, Power imbalance, Manipulation, Degrading talk, Possessiveness/Obsession, Breeding kink, Spanking/Discipline, Angst & emotional manipulation, Soft/dom moments later on, Minors DO NOT INTERACT (18+ ONLY)

prev chapter | next chapter

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Chapter 2

Your dad had called earlier that day, voice crackling through bad reception. Some last-minute crisis at work meant he had to stay overnight on-site. He sounded more annoyed about the inconvenience than worried about leaving you alone.

“I asked Toji to swing by. Just in case,” he said. “He’ll stay the night. Don’t give him trouble.”

You blinked. “He’s staying?”

“Yeah. He said it’s no problem. I owe him anyway.”

You wanted to ask why it had to be him, but the call cut before you could say much more.

Evening rolled in like a quiet tide. The house felt strangely still, like it knew something was different. You weren’t nervous—just... hyper-aware. You’d been feeling that a lot lately. Ever since that night you talked to Toji in the kitchen. Something had shifted. You didn’t know what exactly, only that you caught yourself thinking about that conversation more than you meant to.

About the way his voice dipped.

The way he looked at you like he was figuring something out.

The way he said, You’re more than enough.

You hadn’t seen him since then. But you felt it in your chest the moment the doorbell rang.

You opened it to find him there, holding a duffel bag in one hand, a grocery bag in the other.

“Your dad told me you probably hadn’t eaten,” he said, stepping inside like it was his house too.

You moved out of his way, unsure how to respond. He looked like he always did—black fitted tee, low-hanging joggers, that clean, strong scent that always clung to his skin. But there was something else now. A kind of weight in the air you couldn’t name.

You followed him into the kitchen, where he unpacked the bag—rice, some pre-cooked chicken, a bottle of cola.

“I don’t cook fancy,” he said, glancing over his shoulder. “But I figured hot food’s better than junk.”

You nodded and murmured a soft “Thanks,” watching his shoulders move under that shirt as he turned back to the stove.

You stood nearby, fidgeting with the hem of your hoodie, uncertain what to do with yourself. It wasn’t uncomfortable. Just… thick. Like the quiet between you had its own heartbeat.

“You always get this quiet when you're alone with someone?” he asked, teasing just enough to make you blush.

You looked up, startled. “No— I mean, I don’t know. I just don’t know what to say.”

“Then don’t say anything,” he said, stirring the pan. “Just sit. You don’t have to talk.”

You did as he said, sliding into a chair. You watched him cook. It shouldn’t have felt intimate—but it did. He didn’t say much more. Just made sure your plate was full. Made sure you ate. Made sure you drank enough water. Like he wasn’t just here to keep you company—he was here for you.

After dinner, you ended up on the couch, scrolling absently through your phone. Toji sat nearby with a beer, flipping through TV channels without settling on anything. You weren’t really watching. Neither was he. The space between you felt warmer now. Still quiet. But not stiff.

“You good?” he asked again, just like the other night.

You nodded. But your face gave you away.

“Still thinking about him?”

You hesitated. “Not really. I think I’m just... thinking.”

He leaned back, arm stretched across the top of the couch, eyes on the ceiling. “Thinking’s good. But sometimes it just makes you tired.”

You nodded again, pulling your knees up to your chest, the oversized hoodie swallowing your frame.

“C’mere,” he said, motioning gently with a flick of his fingers.

You blinked, confused. “What?”

“You look cold. C’mere.”

You hesitated—because something fluttered deep in your chest. Not fear. Just nerves. Confusion. But you obeyed without thinking too hard. You always did with him.

You slid closer, slowly. And when your shoulder brushed his chest, he eased an arm around you, careful, unhurried, like he was taming something fragile.

“There,” he murmured, the heat of him soaking into your skin. “That better?”

You nodded, cheek brushing the fabric stretched over his chest. His heartbeat was steady. Slow. Yours was not.

You didn’t speak. You didn’t have to. The quiet stretched long, the weight of him warm around you. Gentle. Protective. His thumb moved once, barely grazing your shoulder, the touch so light it could’ve been imagined.

You didn’t notice the way his eyes lingered. How they traced the slope of your jaw, the way your lashes fluttered when you breathed out. You didn’t catch the way his hand flexed once, slow and restrained, before settling again.

You just sat there, soft and warm in his hold, thinking maybe—just maybe—this was what safety felt like.

The night deepened. The kind of quiet that settled between you and Toji wasn’t empty—it was thick, like velvet. Soft but heavy. You could hear the hum of the fridge, the patter of soft rain against the window, and his slow, calm breaths beside you.

He hadn’t moved in a while. His arm still lay around your shoulder, heavy but comforting. His fingers occasionally drummed gently against your upper arm—small, thoughtless movements. At least, that’s what you thought.

You were curled into him more than before, drawn to the warmth without realizing how much. Your knees tucked under you, your side pressed against his, your cheek resting lightly against his chest. The TV played some late-night crime show no one was watching.

You were still thinking about your ex. Still chewing on old wounds.

“You shouldn’t let someone like him get in your head,” Toji said, his voice low, almost like he was talking to himself. “He didn’t know what he had.”

You made a small sound, not sure how to answer. “He said I was too much. Too clingy. Too emotional.”

“That’s not a flaw,” he murmured. “You feel things deeply. That’s rare.”

His hand moved then—not down, not anything obvious. Just from your shoulder to your upper back, slow and firm, almost like a massage. Still something you could pass off as harmless.

“You care too much about what boys your age think,” he continued. “They don’t know what to do with a woman like you.”

Your lips parted slightly at his words. Woman. You didn’t know why that word sounded different coming from him. You felt it somewhere low in your stomach. But you didn’t speak. You didn’t even move. His hand had reached the middle of your back now, resting there with quiet weight.

“Guys like that… they don’t deserve softness,” he said. “They waste it.”

There was a beat of silence. You still didn’t move.

And then he said it, barely a whisper:

“I wouldn’t have.”

Your breath caught. You didn’t even fully understand what he meant, but it sounded... important. Different. His voice was lower now, closer to your ear. You didn’t realize he’d leaned in.

“Toji—” you said softly, your heart starting to thump.

He hummed like he didn’t hear it—or maybe like he was giving you space to stop him if you wanted.

Then his fingers moved again. A little lower this time. Slow enough to make you second guess if it really went as far as you thought. Just the small of your back. Still not wrong. Still not inappropriate. But just barely.

You felt warm. Too warm. Your cheeks flushed. Your chest tight.

“I’m gonna tell you something,” he said, eyes still watching the flickering TV screen. “And you don’t need to say anything back.”

You nodded, eyes wide. Confused. Curious.

“I noticed,” he said. “The way you look when you’re thinking too hard. When you chew your lip and stare off into nowhere. The way your voice gets small when you talk about someone hurting you.”

You swallowed, heart hammering.

“I noticed how soft you are,” he added, voice even lower now. “And how easy it would be to ruin that.”

Your breath hitched.

He leaned closer, nose brushing the top of your head. Not a kiss. But too close. Too much. And still—somehow—not enough.

“But I won’t,” he said, as if reading your silence. “Not unless you ask me to.”

And then—he pulled away. Just enough. His arm still around you. But no more words. No more boldness.

He left you there, heart pounding, brain reeling, breath shallow—wondering what the hell just happened.

You didn’t say anything.

Not because you didn’t want to—because you didn’t know what to say. The moment sat heavy in your chest, thick and trembling. It hadn’t felt like danger. Not really. But it also hadn’t felt like safety anymore.

It felt like something entirely new. Something you didn’t have words for.

Toji didn’t move. His arm stayed where it was—loose, relaxed like he hadn’t just whispered things no man had ever said to you before. Like he hadn’t just told you, in a voice deeper than sin, that he’d noticed you.

That he’d thought about you in ways that no one ever had. Certainly not someone like him.

You shifted slightly, instinctively—just enough that your thigh pressed a little closer to his. Not a bold move. Not intentional. Just... your body needing something, and your brain too slow to understand what.

He didn’t speak. But you felt his head tilt slightly. Like he’d felt it. Like he noticed that, too.

You fumbled for words. “I—I don’t know what you mean,” you said, voice barely more than a whisper. “About... ruining.”

His fingers twitched against your lower back. Not moving lower. Not pulling you closer. Just a small pulse of tension—controlled, held back.

He leaned in again, slower this time. You felt his breath against your temple.

“You don’t have to know,” he said. “That’s the thing about being soft, baby. You don’t need to understand everything. You just feel it.”

That made your stomach twist. Not in fear. In something darker. Deeper. Something that made your knees pull tighter under you and your arms wrap around yourself, like they could contain it.

“I didn’t mean—” you started.

But he cut you off. Not unkindly. Just gently.

“You didn’t do anything wrong.” His hand pressed just slightly—just enough for you to feel his warmth right through the hoodie. “You never do.”

You turned your head toward him before you could stop yourself, your eyes wide and searching. And you caught him looking at you with that same intensity. Not smiling. Just... watching. Like you were something he didn’t want to break, but couldn’t stop reaching for.

“I…” You swallowed. “I don’t know what to do.”

His expression softened. “That’s alright. You don’t need to do anything.”

He moved then—slowly, deliberately—lifting one hand to your face, the back of his fingers brushing the line of your jaw.

“Just let me look at you.”

The words punched all the air out of your lungs.

No one had ever said it like that. Like they meant it. Like you were art. Like you were made to be looked at. To be studied. To be touched like glass.

Your eyes flicked down, suddenly self-conscious. But his hand tilted your chin back up.

“Don’t hide,” he said, voice rougher now. “Not from me.”

And then he did something that made your heart trip.

He leaned in and pressed a kiss—not to your lips. But just beside them. Your cheek. Close enough to make your skin light on fire. Just enough to test the waters. Just enough to mark the line.

It wasn’t a friendly kiss. It wasn’t innocent.

But it wasn’t demanding, either.

It was a promise. And a warning.

He pulled back, finally, standing from the couch in one smooth motion, like the weight of it all didn’t sit on his shoulders. Like he hadn’t just lit a fire under your skin.

“I’ll take the guest room,” he said simply, like nothing happened at all.

You just sat there, stunned, trembling a little, heart racing against your ribs like a warning bell.

And you stayed like that for a long time—your skin still buzzing where his mouth had touched, your mind too soft to hold onto anything except the sound of his voice, still echoing.

"You never do anything wrong."

next chapter

108 notes · View notes

deliciousangelfestival · 2 days ago

Text

Let's Play Pretend - 10 | bodyguard!Bucky

Character: Bucky Barnes x singer! Female reader

Summary: You just wanted to hide here and find peace from the mess that wasn’t caused by you. But then, your hot neighbor bothered you. As if that wasn’t enough, the enemies you hated found you too.

PART 1 , PART 2 , PART 3 , PART 4 , PART 5 , PART 6 , PART 7 , PART 8 , Part 9 , END.

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

By the way, I published my book Arrogant Ex-Husband and Dad, I Can't Let You Go by Alina C. Bing on Kindle.

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

The first thing you saw was light—bright, sterile, and blinding. You winced, your eyes fluttering shut again before they slowly adjusted. The ceiling above was unfamiliar, white with soft shadows moving across it. The smell of antiseptic told you exactly where you were.

You blinked, turning your head slightly. Bucky sat at your side, his posture tense but calm, like a sentinel who hadn’t moved in hours.

“Good morning,” he said softly, voice warm and low, careful not to startle you.

You opened your mouth, but your throat was dry. Still, you managed to whisper, “I’m… I’m safe, right?”

Bucky leaned forward slightly, his gaze locked on yours. “You’re safe.” His voice was firm now, protective. “No one’s going to hurt you—not while I’m here.”

The reassurance was like a wave washing over you—and suddenly, your chest tightened. Your lip trembled as a sob escaped before you could stop it. You covered your mouth, tears spilling uncontrollably down your cheeks.

Bucky was caught off guard. His eyes widened for a second, but then he reached out without hesitation. He gently pulled you into his arms, tucking your head beneath his chin, his hand moving slowly across your back. “Hey, it’s okay,” he whispered. “You’re okay now.”

But you weren’t okay.

Your breaths came faster. The hospital room started spinning. The walls felt too close. Your skin itched with the memory of everything that had happened. Selena. No—Stanley. The betrayal slammed into you all over again, a cold knife through your gut.

“I let him in,” you choked out between sobs. “I trusted him. I gave him a job. I believed in him. And he… he watched me. He followed me. All this time.”

Your vision darkened as the panic took hold—your heart pounded against your ribs, your lungs refusing to work properly. The machines around you began to beep faster. A nurse rushed in, but Bucky held you close, grounding you as you trembled.

“I should’ve seen it,” you cried. “I brought him into our lives. I—Dolly… she trusted him because I did.”

You gasped for air, hands fisting into the hospital blanket. “He followed me into dressing rooms, Bucky. I never fully undressed, but still… he watched. I thought I was being careful.” You looked at him, eyes wide and filled with horror. “I feel sick. Violated. How could I not know?”

Bucky’s jaw clenched. His hand wrapped tighter around yours.

“He’s never getting near you again.” His tone was like steel.

You looked up at him, broken, your voice barely above a whisper. “How can you be sure?”

He looked at you for a moment, then said, “Let’s just say… men like him don’t survive in prison.”

You stared at him, unsure what he meant.

“He’s got the face and body,” Bucky added, almost coldly. “He’ll be popular in there.”

You blinked, stunned. Your eyebrows raised, your mouth slightly parted, but Bucky didn’t elaborate. He didn’t need to. He didn’t want you to dwell on it. Not someone like Stanley. Not someone who started a cult in your name, who manipulated you, lied to you, and cost the lives of the people you cared about.

Why should you care what happens to him?

Bucky gently pulled the blanket higher around your shoulders. “Focus on healing,” he said quietly. “He doesn’t deserve your thoughts.”

Bucky sat back down beside you, watching you closely.

"You don't have to think about any of that right now," he said gently. "You look thirsty. Do you want something to drink?"

You gave a small nod.

Bucky stood up, walked over to the table, and poured water into a cup with a bendable straw. He returned to your side and held the cup steady as he guided the straw to your lips. You sipped slowly. The cool water was a relief, soothing your dry throat.

Just as you finished, a soft knock echoed from the hospital room door.

Your body tensed instinctively. Eyes wide, your breath caught. You weren't ready for more surprises.

Bucky stood, his expression unreadable as he walked to the door and opened it slightly, peeking through.

"Oh, it’s just you," he said, his tone shifting to something more casual.

"What do you mean ‘just you’? I’m the one overseeing this case," a voice responded with a touch of indignation.

Bucky rolled his eyes playfully and opened the door wider. "Yeah, yeah... Come in."

You watched as Bucky stepped aside to let the visitor in. The two clearly knew each other. There was an ease in their interaction that only came from familiarity.

"His name is Steve," Bucky explained, glancing back at you. "He’s a profiler—and officially part of this case now."

Steve stepped forward awkwardly, clearing his throat. "Sorry to disturb your rest."

"It’s alright," you replied with a soft smile, though your voice was still weak.

Steve blinked rapidly, clearly trying to stay professional—but he looked a bit starstruck. Being in the same room with a famous singer wasn’t something that happened every day.

Bucky nudged his friend’s shoulder with a smirk. "Come on, man. Say what you came here to say."

"Oh—right!" Steve straightened up, clearing his throat again. "I just wanted to inform you that ‘Selena’—or rather, Stanley—will be in jail for a very long time. We have enough evidence linking him to two murders."

Your face fell, the color draining from your cheeks at the word murders. Your fingers gripped the edge of the blanket. The weight of those deaths—the betrayal—sank heavily into your chest.

Steve noticed your change in expression and shifted gears quickly. "Ah—sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. Just… wanted to say we got a lot of help from Bucky here."

You glanced at Bucky. "Really?"

"Yes," Steve nodded. "Without him, we wouldn’t have solved the case in time. We might not have even found you."

Bucky gave a small shrug, his arms crossing over his chest as he leaned against the wall. "It was easy, actually. I just noticed one thing about her—him."

You tilted your head. "What did you notice?"

"‘Selena’ never went to the bathroom," Bucky said plainly.

"That's it?" you blinked, confused.

"I followed your routine closely," Bucky explained. "Your schedule was packed—rehearsals, photoshoots, events. Hours on end. Even the most disciplined assistant would need a bathroom break. But ‘Selena’ never did. Not once. That’s not dedication. That’s unnatural."

Now that he mentioned it, your brows furrowed. You searched your memory. He was right. You had never heard Selena excuse herself, not even once. Not even a casual ‘Be right back.’ Not even during 12-hour shoot days.

Even Dolly would excuse herself now and then.

Bucky continued, his tone darker. "And how Dolly and Jack died… there were patterns. Both were seen talking to someone they knew right before they were killed. The crime scenes suggested no forced entry. She had access to their homes."

Steve chimed in. "After some questioning, we discovered Stanley used your fandom as a cover. He targeted fans who worked in Dolly’s and Jack’s apartment buildings. That’s how he got their access codes. Same with Vert’s place."

"But… forensics showed the killer was male," you said slowly, trying to connect it all.

Steve nodded. "Exactly. That’s why we couldn’t completely rule ‘Selena’ out. Despite how she—he—presented, there was no solid alibi. And now, with the evidence we’ve gathered, we’re confident we’ve got enough to keep him behind bars for a long time."

You exhaled deeply, overwhelmed by the storm of information. Your eyes drifted down to your trembling hands. A killer had almost taken over your life—lived in your shadow, earned your trust, and taken the lives of those closest to you.

"There are a lot of charges pending," Steve added, gentler now. "But what matters most is you’re safe. And we’ll make sure it stays that way."

"Thank you," you murmured, managing a small, genuine smile.

Steve's ears turned slightly pink.

"Why are you thanking him?" Bucky scoffed, crossing his arms dramatically. "I’m the one who saved you first."

You rolled your eyes with a soft smile.

Steve shot Bucky a look, smirking. "Oh, shut up. You’re just jealous." He glanced at his watch. "Anyway, time to go." He turned back to you, a bit more sincerely this time. "It’s an honor to meet you. I hope you recover fully and quickly."

You nodded politely, your expression grateful.

Bucky walked over to the door as Steve made his way out. "Get the hell out," Bucky muttered, half-jokingly, giving Steve a little shove.

Steve chuckled as he stepped into the hallway, then leaned back in with a teasing grin. "You like her, don’t you?" he whispered loudly enough for you to hear.

Bucky’s jaw clenched.n"No, I don’t. Shut up."

Steve raised a brow. "It’s obvious, Buck. Even she probably knows."

You tilted your head in curiosity while Bucky pushed him farther out into the hallway. "Go away before I punch you, Rogers."

"Love makes you soft!" Steve called out with a laugh as Bucky slammed the door behind him.

He let out a huff and leaned his forehead against the door for a moment before turning back toward you.

You smirked.n"So… that’s the friend you told me about before?"

He walked back to your bedside and nodded.n"Yup. That’s him. Used to be skinny as paper."

Your eyes widened. "Really? But he’s almost as big as you now!"

You paused, remembering the stories. You’d heard how Steve had been tortured even longer than Bucky. But looking at him now, with his kind eyes and confident posture, he seemed like a walking golden retriever—not a trace of the darkness he'd been through.

"How did he…?" your voice trailed off.

Bucky sat down slowly beside you, resting his elbows on his knees. His expression softened.

"It wasn’t easy for him. Or for me. Sometimes… we still get nightmares. Flashbacks." He went quiet for a beat. "But it's not as bad as it used to be."

You looked down at your hands, voice barely above a whisper. "Do you think I can pull through, like you guys did?"

He looked at you, his eyes filled with something honest—something that had seen pain and still chose to stay.

"I believe you can. But it’s not easy. It takes time. A long time." He leaned back, arms crossed loosely. "There were days I thought I’d go insane. Couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t breathe." He looked off toward the window. "Until I met Mrs. Walls."

You blinked. "Really?"

He nodded. "Yup. Meeting her… it brought me back to when I was a kid. She reminded me of something real. Something warm." He let out a breath. "At that moment, the darkness around me finally started to lift. Just a little."

You smiled softly, a glimmer of recognition in your expression. "I guess we’re some of those people who see their teachers like parents, huh?"

Bucky nodded, then his brows lifted slightly, remembering something. “Speaking of parents… I heard someone told Vert that we look alike.”

You immediately blushed, caught off guard. “Ehm… You probably didn’t realize it, but yeah. You really do.”

He squinted at you, unconvinced. “Me and him? That’s impossible. From which part?”

You counted with your fingers. “The jawline. The eyes. The way you tilt your head when you're listening to something. And that smirk—always raising your left eyebrow. Oh! And the way you play the guitar. Same fingerstyle. Same posture. Same little wrist flick thing.”

Bucky smirked.

“There it is!” You pointed at him and smirked back. “That exact smirk.”

He chuckled, leaning slightly closer. “Didn’t realize you noticed every little thing about me.”

You flushed deeper and looked away. “I-I don’t. It’s just… pretty noticeable.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow playfully. “Oh? Really?” He leaned in even more, teasing. “Anything else I should know you’ve been secretly observing?”

You grabbed your blanket and threw it over your face. “Shut up. I’m a patient. Stop bothering me.” Your voice was muffled as you hid under the covers.

Bucky laughed softly, trying to hold it in. “Alright, alright. I’ll listen to the patient’s orders.” His voice was still full of amusement as he watched the lump under the blanket.

Then his tone shifted, slightly more serious. “There’s more, though. Vert asked me to take a DNA test.”

You peeked out, blinking. “Huh? Did you take it?”

He shrugged casually. “Yeah, I did. But I don’t expect anything. It'll probably say 0%. I’ve given up on the whole ‘parents’ thing.”

You sat up straighter, watching him. “But… what if you are related to Vert?”

He shook his head. “Impossible.”

You tilted your head, thoughtful. “I don’t know. My gut says otherwise.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes in challenge. “Wanna make a bet?”

Your eyes lit up with intrigue. “What kind of bet?”

He leaned forward, voice low and daring. “If you’re right, and I am related to Vert, you can ask me for anything. No limits.”

You grinned. “And if you’re right?”

His eyes glinted with mischief. “Then you owe me something. My choice.”

You extended your pinky. “Deal.”

He linked his pinky with yours, the air between you suddenly warmer, closer.

Your hands stayed there a second too long. His eyes dropped to your lips. Yours flicked to his. The space between you seemed to shrink with every breath. His hand brushed your wrist, and your heart skipped.

Then—

“My dear! I came as soon as I could!” Mrs. Walls' voice burst into the room.

You both jolted and quickly pulled away, scrambling to sit upright as if nothing happened.

Mrs. Walls, oblivious to the tension she just shattered, rushed toward you and pulled you into a tight hug, her arms warm and comforting.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she murmured, stroking your hair like a worried mother. “I was so worried. I told them to call me if anything happened.”

You melted into her embrace, suddenly feeling like a child again, wrapped in safety.

“If you need a place to stay,” she said firmly, pulling back to look into your eyes, “you can stay with me. As long as you want.”

Your chest tightened at her words, a warmth flooding through you. You glanced at Bucky—he was already looking at you, and the way his expression softened said everything.

You turned back to Mrs. Walls, voice gentle. “Thank you, Mrs. Walls. I’ll gladly take your offer.”

🌸🌸🌸🌸

Six months later.

The classroom was alive with laughter and bright chatter. Colorful drawings covered the walls, some of them lopsided stick figures holding guitars and microphones—your influence was clear even in crayon. Sunlight poured through the windows, dancing across the hardwood floor as a dozen kids sang, clapped, and played simple rhythms with tiny instruments.

One of the kids, a little boy with untamable curls and wide brown eyes, tugged on your sleeve. “Miss?” he asked in a shy voice. “I heard from my mom that you’re a famous singer.”

You chuckled, crouching to his level. “I used to be.”

His eyes grew even wider. “Really?”

You nodded, smiling gently. “Yup.”

He beamed. “That’s why you’re so cool!”

You laughed, tousling his hair. “Thanks, buddy.”

After being discharged from the hospital, you'd made the decision to quietly retire from the music industry. No more spotlights. No more late nights and endless rehearsals. When you told Mr. Vert, you’d expected a dramatic reaction—maybe anger or disappointment. But instead, he simply nodded and smiled.

“If that’s what brings you peace, I’m proud of you.” he had said. His calm acceptance caught you off guard… but it felt like closure.

You took your first step into your new chapter as a guest music teacher—just to try it out, just to feel it. But after just one week, you knew. This was it. This was your new calling. Helping kids discover rhythm, melody, and the magic of self-expression—it filled a part of you that music stardom never had.

You stepped out of the school building just as the final bell rang, your bag slung over your shoulder and a soft breeze playing with your hair.

Then— Honk!

You looked up to see a sleek, brand-new SUV pulling up to the curb. The window rolled down.

Bucky leaned out, smirking. “Need a ride, ma’am?”

You grinned. He stepped out smoothly, walked around the car, and opened the passenger door with a small bow. “Ladies first.”

You laughed as you climbed in. “Thank you, kind sir.”

You slid into the passenger seat, and Bucky closed the door gently before getting in beside you. The new car smell filled the cabin, and the leather seats still looked untouched.

“Let me guess,” you said, eyeing the dashboard. “Another gift from Mr. Vert?”

Bucky shrugged, smirking. “Apparently, having a son means having an excuse to spend absurd amounts of money.”

You rolled your eyes, smiling.

Flashback Start

The DNA results had been a bombshell—99.9% match.

Neither Bucky nor Mr. Vert had known about each other.

When the results came in, Mr. Vert was stunned into silence. But only for a moment. Quickly, he gathered himself and turned to Bucky with something between regret and wonder in his eyes.

“I… I didn’t know. If I had—” “It’s fine,” Bucky had cut in, though his voice wavered.

All his life, he’d been alone. No family. No roots. Then, just like that, he had a father.

At first, Bucky didn’t know what to do with it. Mr. Vert, on the other hand, threw himself into fatherhood like a man trying to make up for lost time—lavish gifts, long talks, even awkward attempts at dad jokes.

It was heartwarming and hilarious watching them navigate this strange new bond.

You’d overheard Bucky stumbling through his first attempt at, “Thanks… uh… Dad.”

And Mr. Vert, with a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, proudly replying, “You’re welcome, son.”

It was beautiful. Messy. Real.

And as for the bet? You won.

Which meant you could ask Bucky for anything.

Flashback End

The SUV pulled into Mrs. Walls’ driveway. Her cozy home looked exactly the same—wind chimes, potted plants, and that familiar wooden porch.

Bucky turned off the engine and turned to you with a grin.

“After dinner, what do you want to do next… my girlfriend?”

You smiled teasingly. “Go back to your house.”

He raised an eyebrow, amused. “Then what?”

You leaned in slightly, your voice soft. “We eat the leftover dessert Mrs. Walls made… and watch movies from your watchlist this time.”

His smile widened. “Perfect.”

Then he leaned over and kissed you gently on the lips, the kiss tender and sure.

When he pulled back, he reached for your hand. Fingers intertwined, warm and steady.

Together, you walked to Mrs. Walls’ front door.

This was what you’d asked for. Not flowers. Not diamonds. Just him.

Not your bodyguard. But your boyfriend.

And he was more than happy to be both.

-The End-

Thank you so much to everyone who’s been with me from the beginning until the end of this story. 💖💖💖

Join the tag list 💖💖💖

@thezombieprostitute

@scott-loki-barnes

@mostlymarvelgirl

@dexter99

@missvelvetsstuff

@kjah97

@barnesxstan

@jeremyrennermakesmesmile

@mrs-maximoff-kenner

@lostinspace33

@read-just-cant

@hzdhrtss

@globetrotter28

@bubblegumbeautyqueen

@mrsnikstan

@maryssong23

@pklol

@daughteroftheforestwitch

@cjand10

@bucky-baby-barnes

@beclovescatz

@ruexj283

@vxllys

@mcira

My book Arrogant Ex-Husband and Dad, I Can't Let You Go by Alina C. Bing is FREE on Kindle for a few days. Check it out!

Link for Arrogant Ex-Husband

Amazon.com

Link for Dad I Can't Let You Go

Amazon.com: Dad, I Can't Let You Go eBook : Bing, Alina C.: Kindle Store

116 notes · View notes

pillow-coded · 2 days ago

Text

To Have and To Hold — Chapter 2

Summary: Spencer doesn’t plan on seeing her again—but fate disagrees. A second encounter at the library leads to lunch, crayons, and conversation that slips into unexpected feelings.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Slow Burn Series (NSFW, 18+)

Content Warning: Just a lot of fluff, and Spencer being a natural girl dad.

word count: 8.5k (I might’ve gone a little overboard)

Series Masterlist

“Books were easier. Made more sense than people did.”

That’s what I told the woman in the library two weeks ago when I found her daughter crying.

Maybe that’s why I’m back here. Back in the same library. Same hour. Same section.

Because books are easier than people, and thus I spend all my free time in the Library. Or maybe it was a coincidence. It was just a coincidence that this Library is closest to Quantico and was the same one where I met her. I’m not here for her. I’m not—

Actually, statistically speaking, the odds of running into someone twice in the same place, at the same time, without planning to, are roughly one in—

I exhale. Pick up the dog-eared copy of A Short History of Nearly Everything, flip it open with the spine cradled in my palm like something sacred. Page 203. I already know what’s there. I’ve memorized this edition. The typo in the footnote. The misplaced semicolon.

I set it back.

My fingers twitch toward Cosmos. Sagan. Safe. Familiar. Predictable, in the way that humans never were. Books don’t lie. Don’t leave. Don’t disappear into the world after saying things like “Thank you for being so gentle with her.”

She had a kind voice. Soft but tired. Like it had been through too many nights alone.

I blink and shake the thought loose. Refocus on the shelves, on the choices. As if there’s a decision to be made, when I know I’ll probably leave empty-handed anyway.

I don’t even need more books.

I tell myself I came here to browse, but I could’ve done that anywhere. There’s a secondhand shop closer to my apartment. Bigger science section. Better lighting.

But I came here.

Same day. Same time.

I run my thumb along the edge of a cover, barely registering the title.

It’s not like I expected to see her again. That would be ridiculous. Irrational. Entirely out of character.

But that doesn’t stop my brain from replaying her voice.

"Thank you again. For everything."

I didn’t say much in return. I never do. But she looked at me like I had, anyway. Like I’d said something important without needing to speak it aloud.

She was tired. In that way people are when they don’t trust the world to be kind to them. I know that look. I’ve worn it.

I wonder if she always smells like pancakes and baby shampoo. If she always speaks gently when she’s angry. If she ever lets anyone in.

I wonder how long I’ll remember the curve of her smile. The way her daughter clung to her shirt like it was home.

This is stupid.

I’m being stupid.

I pick up Cosmos. Open it halfway, then shut it again. I’m not even pretending anymore.

I turn slightly, scanning the aisle like maybe I’ll catch a glimpse of—

Laughter.

High, bright, unfiltered. A child’s laughter.

My chest tightens before I even realize I’m holding my breath. It’s probably nothing. Just another kid. There are always kids in libraries, especially on weekends. It doesn’t mean anything. It doesn’t—

Another laugh, this time followed by a tiny voice too far away to make out. But there’s something about the cadence. The way it rises and dips with storybook rhythm.

I close my eyes.

I know that voice. Not in the way I know facts. Not in a way I could quantify. But I know it.

My fingers curl tighter around the edge of the book.

No. It’s not possible. The odds are ridiculous. Coincidence is one thing—this would be something else entirely. This would be—

My heart stutters.

I don’t move, not yet. I just stand there, spine straight, staring blankly at the shelf in front of me like it might explain what I’m supposed to do next.

It could be her, It could be Maddie.

Which means…

She’s here too.

And that thought—that tiny, traitorous flicker of hope—is enough to terrify me. Because if it’s not?

If I turn that corner and it’s just some other little girl with Rapunzel hair and a too-loud laugh?

Then I’ll have to admit that I came here for someone I barely know.

And I’m not sure what’s worse—seeing them again, or not seeing them at all.

I didn’t have to do anything to figure it out. Because before I could even make up my mind about turning the corner, I felt a small tug at the bottom hem of my shirt.

And then—

“Spencer?”

Her voice. High-pitched. Certain.

I looked down.

There she was. Bright-eyed, slightly flushed, her hair a little messier than I remembered, like she’d been running through the shelves unsupervised again. The same Rapunzel doll she had gotten from our previous encounter, clutched in one hand.

And just like that, the rest of the library disappeared.

All the facts. All the logic. All the well-rehearsed mental gymnastics I’d been running through dissolved under the weight of one look from a five-year-old.

“Hi,” I said—because it was the only word I could find.

Her face lit up like it was the answer she’d been hoping for.

“I knew it was you!” she beamed. “Mommy said maybe someday, and I told her someday would come.”

Someday.

I swallowed hard.

It was suddenly, terrifyingly, today.

“Maddie…” I crouched down a little, just to meet her eyes. “Where’s your mommy? Did you get lost again?”

I looked around, scanning the edges of the room for any sign of her. But all I saw were rows and rows of shelves, shadowed corners, and quiet readers. No familiar face. No soft, tired voice. Just absence.

“No,” Maddie said, entirely unfazed. “Mommy’s at the kiddie section, talking to my friend’s mom. I was playing hide and seek with my friend… and then I saw you.”

She said it like I was the thing she’d been hoping to find all along. Like this had been part of the game.

I was about to suggest we head back to the kiddie section and find her mother, but it was clear she had no intention of being rerouted. Her mind was already somewhere else—bouncing ahead like she always seemed to.

“Mommy brought me to the library today, and she read me and my friends a book!” she exclaimed, practically vibrating.

“Oh really?” I asked, settling into her rhythm. “What book?”

“There’s No Place Like Space!” she announced proudly.

I raised an eyebrow. “Cat in the hat?”

She nodded eagerly. “Yeah! He wears a space helmet.”

I smiled. “Did you learn any new facts?”

She leaned in like she was about to share a state secret. “Did you know Saturn has rings made of ice and rocks and moon dust? That’s what the book said.”

“I did know that,” I whispered back. “But only because I read it too.”

Her face lit up like I’d just told her we shared a superpower. “Really?! what else do you know?”

I smiled, keeping my voice low like we were sharing very important secrets.

“Well… did you know that on Venus, it rains acid? But the air’s so hot, the rain disappears before it ever touches the ground.”

Her mouth opened slightly. “That sounds scary.”

“It is,” I said softly. “But it’s far, far away. Just a cool thing to learn about.”

She nodded, thinking. Then, out of nowhere—like a thought just dropped into her head—she said, “My mommy likes the stars too.”

That pulled at something in me. Quietly. All at once.

“She does?” I asked.

Maddie nodded. “Sometimes we look at them through the window before bedtime.”

I hesitated, then gently cleared my throat. “Hey… do you think maybe we should go find her now? I’m sure she’s wondering where you are.”

Maddie looked back toward the shelves behind her, then back at me.

“Okay,” she said, like it hadn’t occurred to her until now. “She’s by the little chairs.”

“Then let’s go find the little chairs.”

We started walking side by side when, suddenly, Maddie’s small hand found mine.

It was a common thing—kids reaching for the hand of an adult they trusted while walking. It wasn’t unusual.

But did I really count as that? A trusted adult?

I mean, it’s not like I would ever hurt her. Not in a million years. I’d protect this little girl with my life if it came to that.

Still… the idea that a child I barely knew could trust me enough to take my hand without hesitation It felt foreign. Unfamiliar. Like something meant for someone else.

And yet, I didn’t panic, I didn’t pull away. In fact, I felt strangely calm. Like her hand belonged there.

It was small—smaller than I remembered, even—and warm, and sticky in the way little kids always seem to be. But she held on with certainty. Like I was something solid. Like I was safe.

We walked slowly, her short legs trying to keep pace with mine, and I didn’t rush her. I didn’t want to.

I could feel the weight of that hand more than I could feel the floor beneath my feet. Like it anchored me to something I hadn’t even known I’d been floating away from.

I glanced down at her, at the way her gaze scanned the shelves, totally unbothered. Totally sure.

She didn’t look up at me. She didn’t need to. She already trusted I’d follow her lead.

And somehow, I did.

A fleeting thought crossed my mind before I could stop it:

This shouldn’t feel so good.

Because it did.

It felt easy in a way that nothing in my life ever has. Maddie’s hand in mine wasn’t just comfort—it was hope, concentrated into the smallest, warmest palm. And I didn’t know what to do with that. I wasn’t used to ease. I wasn’t built for things that slipped into place without needing explanation.

She tugged me gently to the left, toward the kid’s section, and I followed without question.

I didn’t even try to tell myself it was just good manners, or that I was walking her back because it was the responsible thing to do. I was following because I wanted to. Because in that moment, I wanted to be wherever she was—wanted to stay in this little pocket of borrowed peace for as long as I could.

The truth was, I’d never given much serious thought to having children. Sure, I’d wanted a family in the vague, hypothetical way people who grew up lonely tend to. I thought maybe, someday, I’d settle down. Maybe have someone waiting at home. A dog, probably. A partner, if I was lucky. A kid, maybe—but that part always felt hazy. Distant. Like a chapter in someone else’s story.

But right now, walking beside Maddie—imagining myself in this setting, not as a stranger or a bystander, but as a father—something shifted.

It wasn’t a sharp ache. Not like the usual stabs of grief or guilt or want.

It was quieter than that. Slower.

Like a soft click. Like something sliding into place.

And while it was a strange concept for me—unfamiliar, fragile, impossible in so many ways—I couldn’t say I felt opposed to it. In fact, for the first time in my life, I didn’t feel afraid of it at all.

We were only a few feet away from the kiddie section now. I could see the tiny beanbag chairs, the colorful rugs. Hear the gentle hum of a mother’s voice reading aloud. For a second, I let myself imagine it was ours—that this was routine. A Saturday morning. A library run. Me, her, and

I stopped myself before the thought finished.

This wasn’t mine. This wasn’t something I got to keep. For crying out loud, I’ve only met the girl and her mother last week. I’m way too over my head.

And when Maddie pulled on my hand again, her other arm wrapped around that worn Rapunzel doll like it was a promise, I tried not to fall any further into it.

“Told you I knew where she was,” she said softly.

I managed a quiet smile. “You did.”

And then—just over the shelves—I heard the voice that had been echoing in my head for two weeks.

Hers.

My eyes shot up toward her, and to my own surprise—

she was already watching us.

She stood just beyond the shelves, half-shadowed by a spinning rack of paperback picture books, her arms loosely crossed over her chest. And she was smiling.

Not big or performative. Just soft. Gentle.

Like she’d been watching for a while. Like this wasn’t a surprise to her. Like maybe… this made sense. I wasn’t sure what to do with that.

The way it made my chest tighten. The way her eyes found mine, and didn’t flinch or look away. The way she looked at the two of us—at me—like I belonged in the picture.

She didn’t rush forward. Didn’t call out.

She just stood there.

Calm. Certain.

And somehow, that scared me more than if she’d run.

Maybe this was all in my head. The screw had finally come loose enough to make me believe that this woman—this beautiful, exhausted, soft-voiced woman—was actually smiling at me.

Like I was someone worth smiling at.

Like the sight of me, a stranger, with her daughter didn’t set off alarms, or raise questions, or make her second-guess every protective instinct she’d ever built.

Maybe my brain, forever conditioned to prepare for rejection, had simply decided to give me a mercy hallucination before crashing back to reality.

Because what else could explain the warmth in her eyes?

What else could explain the way she was looking at me like…

like I hadn’t just found her daughter again—

But like I’d shown up.

Before I could spiral any further, she started walking toward us—steady, unhurried, like she wasn’t surprised to see me there at all.

Maddie turned just as she arrived, tugging gently on my hand and beaming.

“Look, Mommy! I found the wizard again! I told you I would!”

Her voice was loud enough to turn a few heads from the nearby shelves, but she didn’t seem to notice. Or care. Her joy was too big for her body.

I glanced at the woman—at her—half-expecting to see confusion or concern flicker across her face. Maybe even wariness. Instead, she just smiled. Not the polite kind. Not the forced kind. Just something real. Soft around the edges.

She looked between me and her daughter, then down at our joined hands. And I swear—for a second—her smile deepened, like the sight didn’t just make sense, but maybe... made her glad.

“I see that,” she said, voice warm with amusement. “You’re getting pretty good at finding him.”

Maddie nodded proudly. “I said I would. You said maybe someday, and I knew it was today.”

I wasn’t sure what to say. I probably should’ve let go of her hand, or at least looked less like I’d just been emotionally tackled in the middle of a library. But I couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak.

She looked at me then—really looked—and for the first time since she’d appeared, the smile didn’t falter.

“Hi,” she said, simple and easy, like this wasn’t strange. Like we weren’t two people somehow caught in the gravity of something neither of us planned for.

And all I could think to do… was nod.

“Hi.”

It came out too quiet, too late—but she smiled anyway, like she didn’t mind.

Then silence.

Not a heavy one, not uncomfortable exactly—just... full. Like neither of us knew what to say first, or maybe we were both waiting for the other to fill in the blanks.

I let go of Maddie’s hand, finally, and immediately missed the weight of it.

She shifted slightly, brushing some hair behind her ear. “I didn’t think we’d actually see you again.”

“Me neither,” I said, and then immediately regretted how abrupt it sounded. “I mean—I come here a lot. Not for—well, not because of…”

I trailed off. Good. Very smooth.

She tilted her head, lips twitching like she was trying not to laugh. “Not because of the children’s section, I hope.”

I cleared my throat. “Yeah— I mean no! no... I didn’t… plan to. I mean, not in a weird way. I come here a lot. I wasn’t... following you.”

Why did I say that?

But she laughed, and thank God, it wasn’t uncomfortable. Just warm.

“I didn’t think you were. Though if you were—this is a pretty safe place to be stalked.”

I shook my head quickly. “No, no. I was… in nonfiction. Science.”

“Of course you were.” The way she said it—soft, teasing, like she already knew that about me—made something flicker in my chest. “What were you reading?”

I blinked. “Oh, uh—Cosmos, again. I’ve read it more times than I care to admit.”

She tilted her head, genuinely curious now. “Why go back to something you already know?”

I opened my mouth to answer, and stopped.

Because it’s safe. Because I know what’s coming. Because people don’t make sense and books do.

Instead, I said, “Sometimes I need something that doesn’t change.”

That earned a slower nod from her. Thoughtful.

“That’s actually kind of beautiful,” she murmured.

I should’ve let the moment settle, but I didn’t want it to end. Not yet.

“So…” I said, voice low, uncertain. “Do you come here often?”

She raised a brow, and I realized immediately how that sounded. My ears burned.

“Sorry—that sounded like a really bad line. I just meant… is this your usual Saturday spot?”

Her expression softened again, and to my surprise, she nodded.

“Pretty much every week. It’s our ritual.”

“It’s a nice one.”

“Yeah,” she said. Her eyes flicked toward Maddie, who was now sitting cross-legged on the carpet, flipping through a board book upside down. “It keeps us grounded.”

Something about the way she said us made my chest ache.

And still—I didn’t want to leave.

I could’ve said goodbye. Should’ve. But instead, I opened my mouth again.

“I never caught your name.”

She turned back to me, almost surprised I’d asked, like she hadn’t noticed we’d gone this long without saying it.

A slow smile crept onto her face. “It’s Y/N.”

Y/N.

I repeated it silently, like a fact I didn’t want to forget. Like something I’d write in the margin of a book I didn’t own but wished I did.

“I’m—”

“Spencer… I know,” she said, that smile tugging just a little higher now. “Maddie wouldn’t stop rambling about you all week.”

My eyebrows lifted before I could catch the reaction, and I felt the heat rush to my face.

She already knew. But somehow, hearing her say my name still felt like the right thing—like speaking it aloud made this real. Not just a strange, passing moment in a quiet library, but something grounded. Something remembered.

“She has a lot to say for someone under four feet tall,” I said, hoping humor would mask the way my chest was suddenly too full.

“She does,” Y/N agreed softly. “But she only remembers the good things.”

Her eyes were steady on mine. Not teasing this time. Just... warm.

“It’s nice to officially meet you, Spencer.”

And somehow, it felt like the first honest thing I’d heard all day.

I nodded, unsure what to say—afraid that if I said anything at all, it might break whatever this was. The moment. The quiet understanding. The fact that I was still standing here, and she hadn’t walked away.

But eventually, she glanced down at Maddie, still content in her world of upside-down books and floor-level discoveries, and I could tell she was about to say goodbye. I felt it before she spoke. The air shifted.

“We should probably head out,” she said gently, and began to step back. “She gets grumpy if we skip lunch.”

I smiled, even though the thought of watching them walk away made something in me feel uneven.

Y/N leaned down to gather Maddie’s things, and as she did, Maddie stood and toddled back over to me.

And then—without hesitation—she reached up and wrapped her tiny fingers around mine again.

I froze. My hand curled instinctively around hers, soft and steady, like it had before. Like it still belonged there.

She looked up at me with wide, hopeful eyes.

“Will I see you again?” she asked.

I froze. Not visibly—but inside, everything just… stopped. My thoughts. My breath. My ability to pretend this wasn’t affecting me.

I hadn’t prepared for that. I’d expected a goodbye. Maybe a smile. Not this. Not a question that sounded so innocent and yet landed like a weight in the center of my chest.

Because the truth was—I didn’t know.

I wanted to say yes. God, I wanted to say yes. More than I should have. More than made sense for someone who had only just learned her mother’s name.

But wanting something has never made it safe. Not for me.

My gaze lifted—instinctively, automatically—and found hers.

Y/N was already looking at me.

And I could tell from the way her breath caught, the way her hand hovered mid-reach like she’d forgotten what she was doing, that she hadn’t expected it either. Not the question. Not the way I looked at her like I was asking her to answer for me. Like I needed her to be the one to say it was okay to want this.

I didn’t know what was written across my face, but she didn’t look away. She didn’t laugh or step in or rescue me from the moment.

She just… watched.

And in the silence, I felt it—all the things I wasn’t letting myself say. The wish that this wasn’t just a moment but the beginning of something. The hope that I hadn’t imagined the connection. The ache I’d been holding at bay since the first time Maddie reached for my hand and didn’t flinch.

It was all there. Pressed between us in the space of a few seconds.

And she didn’t look away.

Then, slowly, I crouched down to Maddie’s level. My knees creaked a little, and the hem of my coat bunched at my sides, but I didn’t care. I met her eyes, soft and serious, and smiled.

“I hope so,” I said, my voice quieter than I meant it to be. Rough around the edges. Still honest.

She beamed, her face lighting up like I’d just granted her a wish.

I reached out and gently tapped her nose. She giggled, and the sound felt like a small sun blooming in the center of my chest.

He tapped her nose, and Maddie giggled—light and free, like the world had never once scared her.

I watched them from just a step away, something quiet unfolding in my chest. The way he looked at her. The way she looked at him. I wasn’t sure when it had started to feel like they already knew each other. Like some invisible thread had pulled them together and neither of them had questioned it—not once.

Watching them bond shouldn’t have affected me this much. But it did. It was. It is affecting me in a way I didn’t expect, didn’t prepare for. And somewhere beneath all that stillness in my chest was something louder—I can’t let him walk away twice.

And before I could stop myself—before I could think too hard about what it might mean—I said, “Spencer, would you maybe like to join us for lunch?”

The words left my mouth before I had time to second-guess them.

He blinked, startled—like he hadn’t expected me to say his name, let alone follow it with an invitation.

His lips parted, but no sound came out.

I felt the nerves flood in, quick and sharp. I cleared my throat, rushing to soften the moment.

God. Maybe I shouldn’t have said that. What was I even thinking?

Too forward. Too hopeful. I mean—I just met the man. And now here I am, inviting him to lunch like we’re old friends? Like we’re… something?

And wait—was that even just an invitation?

Oh no. What if he thinks I’m asking him out?

Was I asking him out?

I’m not ready to date. I haven’t dated in years. I wouldn’t even know where to start—what to say, what to wear, how to be. Besides, lunch with your daughter and a man you met in the library is not a date. Right?

Right?

He probably thinks we’re a mess. Just a tired, overstretched mom and her talkative little girl, desperate enough to drag the first nice stranger we meet into some kind of father-figure fantasy.

God, he’s probably trying to come up with a polite excuse right now.

I glanced down at Maddie, who was still looking up at him like he hung the moon.

I nearly opened my mouth to take it back. To say I was joking. Or that it was totally fine if he was busy.

But then—

He looked at her.

And something in him softened.

And once again, I just couldn’t stop my mouth.

“There’s a little place just down the block,” I added quickly. “It’s nothing fancy—mostly sandwiches and crayons and spilled apple juice, but… Maddie likes it.”

I didn’t know what I expected him to say. Maybe I was already preparing myself for a polite decline. But then he glanced at her—at the way she was still beaming, still holding onto the weight of his words.

Then he looked at me.

“Okay,” he said quietly. “Just for a little while.”

Maddie gasped like someone had just told her she could live in a candy store.

“Yay!” Maddie shouted, throwing her hands in the air with absolutely no regard for indoor voice levels. “Spencer’s coming with us!”

Her joy was so pure, so loud, so entirely her, I couldn’t help but laugh. It bubbled out of me before I could stop it—part nerves, part disbelief, part just watching her glow like she’d won something precious. And Spencer—he smiled too. Tentative at first, like he wasn’t sure he was allowed to, but then a little fuller when she grabbed his hand without asking, without hesitation, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Come on,” she said, tugging him toward the exit, already halfway to the door. “I’ll show you where it is!”

He glanced back at me, wide-eyed, like he wasn’t sure if he was being kidnapped or adopted.

I shrugged, trying to keep the amusement out of my voice. “Maddie, don’t drag him. He’s not a toy.”

She didn’t slow down. If anything, she gripped tighter.

I stepped in to help, reaching for her arm, but Spencer shook his head gently. “It’s okay,” he said, still watching her like she was some strange, marvelous creature he hadn’t quite figured out. “She’s stronger than she looks.”

I smiled, and for the first time since inviting him, I felt the knot in my stomach start to loosen. “I’m sorry,” I murmured, falling into step beside him. “She’s… very persistent.”

“I’m starting to notice,” he said, voice soft with something that sounded dangerously close to fondness.

The three of us walked together, side by side. Maddie led the way like a tiny parade marshal, humming something under her breath, swinging their hands with so much enthusiasm it lifted his arm with every step. Spencer let it happen.

And I watched him out of the corner of my eye—how careful he was not to step too far ahead or too far behind. How he looked down at her, then at me, then away again. Like he was still waiting for the moment to collapse on itself. Like he was quietly, hopelessly wondering if this—whatever this was—was real.

Maddie tugged him forward again, chattering about crayons and sandwiches and something called “the apple juice tower,” whatever that was. I let her lead, falling just a step ahead of him as we neared the glass doors.

But just before I reached for the handle, something made me glance back.

He was watching us—watching me—with that same quiet, uncertain awe like he still wasn’t convinced this wasn’t all in his head.

Our eyes met, and I smiled. Not big. Not nervous. Just enough to say I see you. You’re here. This is okay.

He smiled back. Small, but real. Like he meant it.

The café was exactly the kind of place that looked like it had been decorated by a five-year-old with a glue stick and too much creative freedom.

Paper menus. Crayon buckets on every table. Bright yellow walls smudged with fingerprints and faded murals of dancing sandwiches. The air smelled like grilled cheese and applesauce, with just the faintest undercurrent of desperation.

Maddie walked in like she owned the place.

She made a beeline for her favorite table near the window, climbed into the booster seat without help, and immediately grabbed a crayon to start coloring the laminated menu like it was a job she took very seriously.

I offered a quick, breathless apology to the hostess—who, by now, knew us by name from how often we ate here, and how often I apologized for Maddie. She just smiled, waved us along like always.

I followed behind, juggling Maddie’s water bottle, my slipping purse strap, and the bag hanging awkwardly off one arm. My hair stuck to the back of my neck, and I was already sweating before we even reached the table.

Spencer hovered behind us—shoulders tense, hands tucked carefully into his sleeves like he wasn’t sure what he was allowed to touch. He eyed the table before sitting, then reached for a napkin and used it to wipe off the corner of his chair.

I bit back a smile.

He sat down slowly, like the seat might collapse under him, and folded a napkin onto his lap with an almost surgical precision. Then, with the same cautious care, he picked up the menu between two fingers like it might bite him.

“Is this… washable?” he asked, squinting at a suspicious green smear in the corner.

I bit back a laugh.

The way he held himself—tense, deliberate, like the entire environment was foreign terrain—should’ve felt awkward. Should’ve made him seem stiff or out of place. And maybe he was. This place was loud and messy and sticky in all the ways kid-friendly cafés tend to be. It didn’t match his cardigan, or the way he spoke, or the precise way he folded that napkin like he needed it to anchor him.

But somehow, despite how out of place he looked in here… it was charming in a way I hadn’t expected.

Like he was trying. Like none of this made sense to him, but he’d still shown up and let a four-year-old lead him to a table covered in crayon marks and glitter glue residue—and never once complained.

It made something settle in my chest. Not in a dramatic, cinematic kind of way. Just… gently.

The way something shifts when you realize someone doesn’t quite fit into your world, but doesn’t seem afraid of it, either.

Maybe i’m getting ahead of myself again…

I smiled as I finally slid into the seat across from him.

“You’re holding your sandwich menu like it’s radioactive.”

He blinked at me, then laughed—nervous, quiet, but real.

“I’m just… recalibrating. I don’t usually eat anywhere that serves chocolate milk with every meal.”

“Well,” I said, gesturing to the glittery chalkboard behind him, “you’re in luck. Today’s special is dino nuggets with a side of animal crackers and a sticker.”

He raised a brow. “Do I have to finish my vegetables to earn it?”

“Only if Maddie lets you.”

From her booster seat, Maddie gave him a solemn nod. “You have to eat two bites. That’s the rule.”

He nodded seriously, matching her tone. “Fair enough.”

Maddie picked up her crayon again, dramatically scribbling across the corner of the kids’ menu like she was signing a contract. “I’m gonna get the dinosaur lunch,” she announced. “And I’m gonna eat the animal crackers first.”

“Bold choice,” I said. “Dessert before lunch?”

She nodded with absolute conviction. “They taste better when they’re still cold.”

Spencer looked genuinely intrigued. “Cold animal crackers?”

I smiled. “The servers here love Maddie. She likes her animal crackers cold, so they put them in the fridge for her. We come here a lot.”

He glanced between us, amused, and I added, “She also keeps a stash in the fridge at home—right next to the ketchup and a collection of stickers she refuses to actually use.”

“They’re for emergencies,” Maddie mumbled, still coloring.

He smiled, clearly charmed. “I think that’s smart.”

Maddie sat back, tapping her crayon to her chin. “What’s your favorite food, Spencer?”

He blinked, clearly not expecting to be called on. “Oh. Uh…” He paused, clearly thinking harder than anyone needed to over the question. “As a kid, I really liked buttered saltines.”

Maddie wrinkled her nose. “What’s that?”

“It’s… sad toast,” I said, biting back a grin.

He laughed—actually laughed—and shook his head. “Yeah, okay, that’s fair.”

“Well I like jelly sandwiches,” Maddie declared, puffing up proudly. “But only if they don’t touch the crust.”

I turned to Spencer, already smiling. “Last week she had a full meltdown because her sandwich was touching the pickles on the plate.”

He raised a brow. “Touching the pickles?”

“Contamination, apparently,” I said. “There were actual tears. Like, betrayal-level tears.”

Maddie shrugged. “I hate pickles.”

Spencer held up both hands. “No judgment. I cried once because I dropped an ice cream cone on a squirrel.”

There was a pause. Then Maddie said, dead serious, “Did it eat it?”

Spencer leaned in just slightly, like he was letting her in on a secret. “It did.”

Maddie let out a satisfied little “huh” and went back to coloring like that settled everything.

I looked across the table at him, and before I could stop myself, I smiled.

God help me… I was enjoying this.

Before anything else could be said, the server arrived to take our order. Maddie ordered for herself, proudly pointing at the “Dino Lunch” with a red crayon-smudged finger, and I gave my usual half-apology as I asked for something simple and spill-proof.

Which, of course, did nothing to stop the inevitable.

Because just as the drinks were set down—and Spencer opened his mouth to comment on the chalkboard specials—Maddie reached for her crayon and accidentally knocked her cup with her elbow.

Apple juice went tumbling sideways, spilling fast across the table and soaking everything in its path: the menu, a handful of napkins, and most dangerously, the edge of Spencer’s side of the table.

“Shoot—Maddie, careful!” I said, snapping forward before I could think. One hand grabbed the cup, the other reached for the nearest napkins, my voice already apologizing. “I’m so sorry—God, I always forget to move it. Are you—did it get on you?”

But Spencer didn’t flinch.

He didn’t startle or recoil. He didn’t look to me for direction or freeze up like he wasn’t sure how to exist inside the chaos.

He just moved.

Quiet. Certain. Crouched beside the table with a napkin in hand, dabbing gently at the spill like it was something ordinary. Like he’d done it a hundred times before.

There was no performance in it. No show of exaggerated patience. No offhand comment meant to smooth over the discomfort.

Just presence. Just calm.

And it shouldn’t have surprised me—but it did.

Because I’ve grown so used to being watched during moments like this. To feeling people’s eyes crawl across the back of my neck when juice spills or crayons fall or Maddie’s voice gets just a little too loud. I’ve learned the tone people use when they try to be helpful but can’t quite hide the edge in their voice.

But Spencer?

He just helped.

And it wasn’t just that he helped—it was the way he moved. Careful, like the world had taught him to tread lightly. Like he knew some things break if you come at them too fast.

He handed Maddie a napkin without a word, and she took it without hesitation. Like she already understood his kind of quiet.

And I just stood there, blinking at this man who looked so completely out of place in a room full of noise and color—and yet somehow felt like the most steady thing in it.

The moment passed the way these things always do—juice soaked up, napkins tossed aside, and Maddie already moving on like it had never happened at all.

She was now focused on arranging her animal crackers by species, narrating under her breath which ones were friends and which ones were “going to space.” Spencer watched her with quiet interest, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Maddie was mid-chew, swinging her legs beneath the booster seat, when she glanced up at Spencer and asked, in the completely unfiltered way only kids can,

“Do you have a kid?”

Spencer blinked.

There was a pause. Not long enough to seem strange, but long enough for me to feel it.

And God, I felt it.

The second the question left her mouth, I wanted to shrink. Apologize. Backpedal so hard I’d fall through the floor. I could’ve sworn the air changed. My stomach twisted. I opened my mouth, ready to say something—anything to fill the silence, soften the edges—but then he answered.

He smiled—small, controlled. “No,” he said. “Just books.”

His tone was light. Almost rehearsed. But something in the way he said it made my chest tighten.

Just books.

It sounded like a joke. The kind you throw out to change the subject. But his eyes didn’t quite match the smile. They didn’t crinkle at the corners. They didn’t hold amusement. They held something else.

Not sadness, exactly. Not regret. Just… distance.

Like the question had touched something he hadn’t expected. Like maybe there was a story there—one he didn’t tell often. Or at all.

I didn’t push. I wanted to. More than I should have.

But I just reached for Maddie’s juice and asked if she wanted a straw. She nodded and went back to organizing her crackers.

And Spencer?

He went back to watching her with that quiet kind of attention—the kind that didn’t ask for anything in return.

The moment settled, the way heavy things do—gently, but not without leaving something behind.

Maddie had already moved on, now focused on biting the heads off her dinosaur nuggets in species order, completely unaware of the silence she’d left behind.

Spencer picked up his water, took a small sip, and then moved his attention towards me. Not at Maddie. Not at the menu. At me.

And of course, that was the exact moment I realized I’d been staring at him.

I panicked, internally.

My brain scrambled for something—anything—to do with my face. Should I smile? Look away? Pretend I was zoning out and just happened to be staring into the space he occupied? My fork suddenly became the most fascinating object in the universe.

But he didn’t seem thrown by it.

If anything, there was something different in the way he was looking at me now. A shift. Not in focus exactly—he’d been paying attention this whole time. But something had turned. Like I wasn’t just Maddie’s mom across the table anymore. Like now, I was someone he wanted to understand.

“You’re good with her,” he said, voice softer now. Not like a compliment, exactly—more like an observation. One he’d been quietly holding onto for a while.

I smiled, a little caught off guard. “Oh. Uh… thanks?”

It came out more awkward than I meant it to. I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, buying half a second to breathe.

“I try,” I added. “She makes it easy most of the time.”

Then, like I couldn’t help myself, I added, “She’s also really clumsy. Like, expert-level.”

He let out a soft laugh—just enough to warm the space between us.

“Clumsy’s fine,” he said. “It means she’s moving fast enough to chase things.”

“Chase things?” I repeated, raising an eyebrow.

He glanced down for a second, like maybe he hadn’t meant to say it out loud.

“Yeah,” he said, a little sheepish. “I just mean… she’s curious. Curious kids knock things over sometimes. It’s kind of the price of wonder.”

I stared at him for a second, not because I didn’t understand, but because—

who says things like that?

Somehow, he made Maddie’s juice spill sound like a trait of great explorers.

“That’s…” I shook my head, smiling despite myself. “Weirdly profound.”

He gave a half-shrug, eyes still on his water glass. “I think about stuff like that a lot.”

“So you’re one of those… deep and mysterious guys?” I asked, only half-joking.

He looked up at me then, something flickering behind his expression—amusement, maybe, or hesitation. Or both.

“I don’t think I’m mysterious,” he said. “Just… overthinky.”

“Is that the technical term?”

He cracked a small smile. “It is in certain circles.”

There was a pause—one that didn’t feel awkward, just full. I watched him trace the rim of his glass with one finger, thoughtful, like he was weighing what to say next.

“But I guess I’d rather be quiet than careless,” he added after a moment. “Some things deserve a softer touch.”

And just like that, there it was again—that pull in my chest. That stupid, quiet ache for someone who wasn’t just listening, but noticing.

I wasn’t used to that. Not even a little.

People usually speak just to fill silence, to be heard. But he didn’t do that. He left space—real space—for something to exist between us, and didn’t rush to fill it. And in that space, I felt something shift in me.

Maybe it was the way he said it—careless, softer touch, like he knew what it meant to ruin something just by trying too hard.

Or maybe it was the way he looked at me without flinching. Without expectation.

Whatever it was, it made me want to offer something back. Just enough to even the playing field.

“It’s just me and Maddie,” I said, almost before I realized I’d decided to. “Always has been.”

“Just you two?” he asked, and his voice wasn’t surprised or pitying—just curious. Open.

I nodded, brushing my fingers over a wrinkle in the paper napkin beside my plate. “Yeah. I’m a single mother.”

There wasn’t any bitterness in the words. Not anymore. Just fact. Just a quiet kind of truth I’d grown used to carrying.

“I didn’t plan it that way, obviously,” I added, eyes flicking up to meet his. “But life doesn’t really wait around for your timeline to catch up.”

He didn’t rush to fill the silence. Didn’t try to soothe it or fix it or offer up some canned line about how “strong” I must be.

He just listened.

I didn’t know what I would’ve said next—maybe make a joke, or let the silence stretch just a little longer between us—but then Maddie broke through it all with the most casual kind of urgency.

“Mommy, I’m done…”

She pouted, arms folded across her dino nugget-stained shirt, her plate pushed an inch away like that somehow made it official. Her tone was flat, but I could hear it—she was winding down. Bored. And I didn’t have to check the time to know why.

Her favorite show would be starting in about fifteen minutes.

I blinked, like surfacing from deep water, and turned toward her. “Okay, baby. One second.”

She huffed dramatically, which in Maddie-language meant you have exactly forty seconds before I start getting antsy.

Spencer chuckled under his breath, and when I looked back at him, the moment we’d just been sitting in had softened—but it hadn’t vanished.

It was still there. Waiting.

“I’m sorry,” I said, glancing at Maddie as she slumped dramatically in her seat. “She gets like this when she’s bored… plus, her favorite show starts in fifteen minutes, and she’s got an internal clock like you wouldn’t believe.”

He smiled, his eyes still following her as she fiddled with her empty cup. “She’s kind of amazing.”

I let out a soft breath. “She really is.”

I looked at her—my messy, impatient, wonderful girl—and then back at him. And for a brief second, I wondered what this must look like from the outside. The three of us sitting there. Laughing. Talking. Almost like—

No. I stopped myself. It was way too early for almosts. But still… the warmth lingered.

I cleared my throat, reaching for Maddie’s water bottle. “Anyway, we’re gonna head out, but the meal is on me.”

Spencer blinked, like the words took a second to register. “Oh—you don’t have to—”

“I know,” I said, managing a half-smile. “But I invited you. It’s only fair.”

He looked like he wanted to argue, but didn’t. Just gave me that small, quiet nod that felt like more than it was.

“Thank you,” he said. And he meant it.

The afternoon sun was warmer than expected when we stepped outside, the kind that made you squint even if the sky wasn’t all that bright. Maddie shuffled beside me, her dino-nugget energy finally spent. She yawned dramatically and leaned into my side, thumb sneaking into her mouth like it used to when she was smaller.

I wrapped an arm around her shoulders and adjusted the bag on mine, heart still a little too full.

Spencer stood just a step behind us, like he wasn’t sure if this was where we said goodbye or if he should keep walking with us. His hands were in his pockets, eyes flicking between me and Maddie.

“Thank you,” I said, turning slightly toward him. “For coming. And for lunch. You really didn’t have to—”

“I wanted to.”

He said it before I could finish, and something about the way he said it—quiet, certain—made me feel like the ground had shifted just a little beneath me.

I nodded, unsure what else to say. There was a question hovering at the edge of my mouth, but I didn’t ask it.

Maddie blinked up at him sleepily and gave a tiny wave. “Bye, Spencer.”

He smiled and lifted his hand, the wave a little awkward, almost formal. “Bye, Maddie.”

He turned like he was going to leave—and for a second, I thought that was it.

But then he hesitated. Turned back.

“Wait—”

I stopped, startled. He looked almost nervous now, which was oddly comforting, considering I felt the exact same way.

“Would it… be weird if I asked for your number?”

It wasn’t smooth. It wasn’t practiced. It was Spencer—uncertain, a little flushed, and completely genuine.

I smiled. “No. It wouldn’t be weird.”

He reached into his coat pocket for his phone, and for the first time that day, I saw him fumble.

And it made me smile even more.

He reached into his coat pocket for his phone, and for the first time that day, I saw him fumble.

It made me smile even more.

He handed it to me without a word, the lock screen already open to the contact form. I took it carefully, thumbs suddenly too aware of themselves as I typed in my name and number.

I hesitated just before hitting save, then added a small emoji at the end—just to keep it from looking too clinical. Too… formal.

“There,” I said, handing it back.

He glanced at the screen, then up at me. “Y/N with a little star.”

I shrugged, suddenly shy. “Seemed appropriate.”

He nodded, like he was tucking that away somewhere quiet.

“I’ll text you,” he said, slipping the phone back into his coat.

“Okay.”

It felt like the kind of word that meant more than it sounded like. Not a goodbye. Not yet.

He lingered for a breath longer, then gave me that same soft nod—the one that meant he’d said everything he was going to say.

And then, he turned and walked down the sidewalk, hands in his pockets, hair catching a little in the wind.

I watched him go. This time, on purpose.

taglist : @smithieandy @kspencer34 @person-005 @diffidentphantom @23moonjellies

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds self insert #dr spencer reid #spencer reid imagine

72 notes · View notes

peachhcs · 2 days ago

Note

can you do one where samy and will go to a party in Michigan and Samy gets super drunk and when they get back to her apartment it is just her and will and he is helping samy and she is throwing up and he is helping her and then the next morning she is hungover

i think this ask is from like last summer or close to it (eek so sorry). i've been looking through my asks and landed on this one as i try to answer old ones

i always feel like whenever will and samy go out, he never gets super drunk so he's still sober enough to get them home and take care of samy (also so she never has to worry and can just have fun) -- takes place sometime...this past school year when will comes to visit

au masterlist

the senior hockey house was lively. considering how popular the boys were on and off the ice, their house was always packed anytime they threw a party. it was mostly the girls who tried getting in to talk up one of the players which was always a gamble if they were successful or not because most of the hockey boys were there to have fun.

samy weaved her way through the crowd in search of her boyfriend. she kept getting stopped by someone who wanted to talk to her, so her efforts to find him turned into a 30 minute adventure. there was always a familiar face around the corner like a classmate, a hockey boy, or her soccer teammates that wantd to talk and considering samy got super chatty whenever she was drunk, she always stopped to have a conversation.

will decided to just go to her since he didn't know nearly enough people to get stopped every 5 minutes. he finally found her in the living room talking with tj and tyler. the blonde smiled and silently touched her arm so he didn't startle or interrupt the conversation. the brunette caught his gaze and interrupted herself anyway to greet him.

"ooh, hi baby. i promise i was coming to find you. i got stopped sooo many times," the girl chuckled. the boy's smile grew.

"i figured. that's why i just came to you instead," he kissed her temple. tyler and tj smiled at the affection. at this point, everyone was so used to samy and will that hardly anyone really teased them anymore (besides their closest friends). they were really just "mom and dad" status now.

"i was just telling ty and tj about your season and how you scored like soo many goals in your rookie season," will quickly blushed at the praise.

he never had to worry about leaving samy be at parties because well 1. he trusted her and 2. she just talked about him to everyone she interacted with anyway. he was the same way too, any party he was at in san jose he just talked about his girlfriend the whole time. mack definitely got sick of hearing him yap on about her.

"oh really?" the hockey player chuckled.

"i mean, duh. i gotta brag about you. he's so humble," the brunette smacked his chest and will's smile had never been bigger.

"i honestly can't believe you're a pro now. makes me miss our dev program days," tyler chuckled.

"don't remind me. it goes fast, man. i honestly can't believe it either. i feel like i'm dreaming sometimes still," will admitted.

"i mean you deserve it. you were a fucking beast out there. still are," hearing those words from former teammates made the rookie flush. sometimes when he doubted himself he just remembered how proud his former teammates were of him and why he did this—for them.

"geez, thanks ty. i appreciate that. you are too," the boys continued their small talk while samy finished what was left in her cup. she was buzzing, probably on her 4th drink of the night..she lost count an hour or two ago.

whatever ethan and mark always bought was way better than the cheap alcohol her and hannah got for their wine nights. it got samy drunk pretty fast and she was already tipsy when they got there because her and hannah pregamed with samy's soccer teammates. there were great perks to being friends with the senior hockey players because she always got her friends an in.

tyler and tj let the couple have a moment together since will came over to originally find samy. the girl grinned up at him and will couldn't help but smile back. "hi, pretty."

"hiii, how are you?" she grabbed onto him and he caught her before she stumbled over.

"how are you? drunk?" will could smell the smirnoff on her breath mixed with some type of berry.

"likee yeah. i'm good though. i'm sorry i didn't make it to you sooner. soo many people just wanted to stop and chat. you know me and talking," the brunette giggled.

"i know, you love talking. you think it's maybe time to go?" the shark's rookie wondered just because it was almost 1 in the morning and he knew samy well enough that he knew when she needed to go to bed and stop drinking before she started throwing up.

"okayyy, we can go. i better say bye to hannah and make sure she has a way to get home. and mark and eth so they know i'm leaving," samy determined and will nodded.

"okay, let's find them," with will being taller, he could see through the crowds of people better than samy.

he took her hand to lead her through the house in hopes of finding one of the three people she listed. however, samy was talking to every single person she walked by, sometimes trying to stop completely, but will kept pulling her along.

they found hannah first. she was talking with a few of her gymnast friends, immediately grinning when she saw will and samy.

"hey guys!" the brunette exclaimed.

"hannah!! hey!!" samy jumped into her roommates arms.

"hi pop. what's up?" hannah laughed when she caught the girl.

"will says we're leavinggg. are you getting home okay?"

"yeah, i'll be good. i might go back with georgia and farah," hannah pointed to the two girls beside her.

"you might or you will?" will always needed to confirm the getting home plans.

"she will. we'll get her home okay, don't worry," farah smiled kindly. mark's girlfriend was basically the mom of the group, so she aways made sure the girls made it back home safely. will trusted her and nodded.

"text us," he reminded hannah who nodded.

"will do. take care of her," she giggled down at her roommate again and passed her back to the boy.

mark and ethan weren't far. they were in the kitchen with mostly their teammates now since people were starting to leave. mark spotted the couple first knowing the look meant they were leaving.

"ooh, whats this?" samy spotted a cup of something and picked it up faster than will could stop her. she took a few sips of it before immediately coughing and making a face of disgust.

"hey, don't drink that. i think you've had enough," will took it from her and handed it over to mark who stepped in.

"you guys leaving?" the older boy wondered.

"yeah, i'm gonna take her home. great party, thanks for having us," will nodded.

"you're good to walk her?" mark confirmed and the blonde nodded.

"i'm sure. i'm not even that drunk."

"okay, let one of us know if there's any problems. get back safe," the boys fist bumped.

will took samy by the arm to lead her to the front door. the girl was giggly as they walked, claiming he was tickling her. "baby, that tickles!" she giggled.

"i'm not tickling you, i promise," will hummed.

he would let her go, but he also learned that samy was a runner when she was drunk. if he let go, she'd 100% take off down the street and he did't want her doing that, especially at 1 in the morning.

"do you hate me?" sometimes samy's topic changes gave him whip lash.

"no, why would i hate you?"

"i dunno. you just suddenly decide to hate me?"

"i would never do that, i promise. i love you," the blonde smiled and kissed her cheek again. samy blushed.

"i love you. i love, love, love you."

these were basically their walks home on nights out. samy yapped on about anything that came to her mind and will just listened. he held her arm or her hand to make sure she didn't run off. when will wasn't around to do this, it was usually hannah, mark, ethan, or moldy walking the girl home.

"i'm so drunk right now," samy stated blankly.

"you did drink a lot tonight. you'll probably have a killer hangover tomorrow," will chuckled.

"ugh, don'ttt say that. i can't even think about that right now," the soccer player shook her head.

after another 10 minutes, they were back in samy's apartment. samy kicked her shoes off, feeling a bit more sober after the walk, but the slowing down was making all of the alcohol catch up with her. she was running to the bathroom before will could even process her leaving until he heard the sounds of her yacking in the toilet.

he quickly went to her. she was bent over the toilet, so will pulled her hair back before she threw up in her hair. he tried pretending she wasn't throwing up because his stomach was not that strong to begin with,

"get it all out, baby," he comforted, rubbing her back in soothing circles.

samy threw up 3 more times. whatever was in that random cup she picked up must've been strong in addition to the four or some drinks she had. will flushed the toilet and helped the girl to her feet.

"what do you need? water? food?"

"probably water," the hughes sister mumbled.

will went to the kitchen while samy splashed her face with water from the sink to refresh herself. the throw up definitely sobered her up a bit more, so she was becoming more aware of herself and her surroundings. her boyfriend returned a moment later with a fresh cup of cold water. he leaned against the doorframe to watch her drink it.

"sorry..i definitely went too hard," the brunette flushed.

"don't apologize. you had fun," will quickly shook his head.

he took the cup back from her when it was empty. his next job was helping the girl brush her teeth. he followed her routine—securing her hair back with a headband, wetting the toothbrush before putting the toothpaste on, finding her makeup remover. will had this down to a science.

samy loved turning her brain off whnever her boyfriend was around to take care of her, but as he brushed her teeth for her, she couldn't help but admire him. he was just soo pretty in her eyes, so handsome, so good looking. his little curls were peeking out from under his hat that samy thought about twirling around her finger later.

"okay, spit," he said. she leaned over the sink to spit the toothpaste out and rinse her mouth clean. the next task was her makeup, but that was easy when all the boy had to do was wipe her face off with the wipes.

he was gentle with it. he carefully wiped at her face to get the mascara, foundation, blush, eyeshadow, and eyeliner off. "would younger you think you'd be in this spot right now?" samy asked, kind of thinking out loud as the alcohol wore off.

"what do you mean?"

"like..what would 11 year old us think of us right now?" the brunette giggled thinking of her younger self who absolutely despised the boy in front of her with all of her being.

"i would think younger will would scream cooties and make some snarky remark," the blonde smiled too.

"who would've thought.."

"wouldn't want it any other way though," the hockey player grinned. he threw the wipe out once he was finished and let samy look at herself to make sure he got it all.

"you're perfect at this," she grinned.

they made their way to her room. samy was sober enough to find herself clothes to change into so will dug through his bag for a pair of sweatpants and a different t-shirt. the couple changed and will went to find tylenol and another glass of water for his girlfriend in the morning.

samy climbed right into her bed, glad to be in bed after the long night. will returned with the pills and the same glass he gave her earlier.

"for tomorrow morning," he motioned to the nightstand. samy smiled.

"you're so nice to me."

"i try," will laughed. he climbed into the bed a second later, reaching for the light on his way down to the pillow.

samy scooted close to him knowing how warm he got and how cold she was at the moment despite the blankets on top of them. the boy wrapped his arms around her and samy found his little curls like she knew she would. playing wih his hair was one of her most favorite things to do.

"i love you," she whispered.

"i love you more. sleep well," will hummed.

"thanks for always taking care of me. it means a lot," will's taken care of her for as long as she could remember after nights out and it definitely wasn't going to change anytime soon.

the couple was fast asleep within minutes of one another. will's steady heartbeat put the girl to sleep and her fingers threading through hs hair was what had the hockey player slipping into a deep sleep.

60 notes · View notes

satorusideals · 19 hours ago

Text

Airy Spring

a/n: soooo.. fourth post. I honestly need og ideas. I’m trying so hard to think of things. But I’ll get there! My time is limited because of current events but I’ll be on it. Pls give me inspo im crying. Also! I need more moots. Enjoy ig. 🥀

content: fem view, pregnancy, dad gojo, and fluff!!!!!!

It came to no surprise. Your life was so different. By having a puffy stomach, aching feet, sharp back pains, and a little newborn that filled your ears; you were a new woman.

You remember the fateful afternoon that had you pacing back and forth as your hands clasped onto the long piece of plastic. The very item that made you shriek of happiness (?), anxiety (?), and shock.

You were no where near ready to confess to your husband, Satoru Gojo.

He was a busy man.

You both understood that. And the thought of somewhat impeding his plans made you bite your tongue.

In an attempt to continue the normalcy, you make dinner, turn on the lamps, anxiously do laundry, and try to take a warm bath— but as soon as your dear husband begins to rattle the front door— you pace inside the bathroom.

Oh.. how will he react? He’ll be happy, right? What about his schedule? Maybe he’s not hungry..

“I’m back! Guess who’s the best husband that brought kikufuku?? I am!”

Your hairs stick up at his exclamation, and the few droplets of cold sweat begin to build up on the tip of your nose.

Great.

His innocent teasing is always nerve wrecking.

Satoru’s steps get louder by the second, and when you open the bathroom door, he’s standing outside with a smile.

“You took a bath without me?? And here I was trying to rush back home to you” he says with a teasing pout, before wrapping his arms around you.

“I missed you, baby. Did you miss me?” he asks while pulling back to look at your water kissed face.

There was no way to hide from him. Every reaction and cold shoulder you gave him was a clear indicator that something was wrong. Whether it was him or the bad weather— oh, he didn’t know! He took every bad possibility and ran with it.

He loves his dear wife!

During dinner, he felt that enough was enough. No time was wasted and he asked.

“Are you mad at me? I’m sorry— I came as quick as possible.” Satoru pouts and drops his utensils in an attempt to give you his undivided attention.

You sigh and shake your head.

“I’m just tired.. I cleaned the whole house, ya know?”

“Well.. no one asks you to. I’ve offered a maid before.”

Your quick responses are what save you. At least for a bit.

Satoru’s short trips leave a balance of home time and work. These time intervals give you time on how to confess. Or figure out what to even do.

Before you know it, he’s back from another trip. His slender frame is wrapped around you in your large bed with his hand on your now plush hip. An obvious hint at your body’s accommodation.

“You’re so fluffy now.. you gaining?” he innocently asks as his nose buries itself into your scalp.

Satoru yelps at your pinch.

“Ow! What was that for!?”

“You’re a prick. I don’t know why I bother with you!”

He was just asking..

After fighting yourself, both mentally (anxiety) and physically (morning sickness), you break the news before Satoru steps out for his mission.

“‘Toru.. you’re not gonna eat breakfast?”

“Mm.. nah. My stomach hurts if I eat too early. Maybe I’ll come for dinner tomorrow, ‘kay?”

“Okay..” you mutter as his face leans down to kiss the corner of your mouth.

“What’s with the sad face, hm?”

“I just.. don’t know how to tell you.”

“Tell me what..? You’re divorcing me or somethin’?”

“No.. it feels like I’m lying to you.”

He stays silent. You could basically feel his heartbeat. Stray and loud. He honestly would have loved that breakfast instead of feeling this tension you’ve unknowingly created.

“I’m pregnant. You. Me. We’re pregnant.”

Those passing moments between you both felt like eternal.

Satoru’s sleepy eyes widened and made him freeze.

“What? Ha.. ha-ha.. you’re-“

“I’m sorry.”

“Honey, what? Sorry? Wait, what?”

His words made you more confused. Was he surprised or disappointed?

You looked away. The sun’s rays were shining through the room from the window, but left no warmth to comfort you.

Satoru realized his unintended negligence of comforting you and he quickly wrapped his arms around you.

“I’m sorry, Satoru.”

“Stop saying that.. what are you sorry for?”

“We didn’t want this.. I’m sorry.”

He sighs. His hand cups your cheek and pulls you back to look directly into your eyes.

His blue pearls watched your reactions and counted your every freckle and lash without hesitation.

His wonderful wife had just confessed a life altering situation— and here he was stuttering like a high school boy.

“Who said that, hm? Just ‘cus we didn’t plan it, doesn’t mean I don’t want it. Unless.. you don’t want it?”

You shake your head and he quickly begins to rub your back and whisper sweet nothings into your ear.

It was a done deal.

You carry his sweet baby and get all the rest, take-out, midnight cravings, foot massages, and needy booty-calls you desire, even when he was away on missions.

But this was only on the condition of Satoru keeping his missions to a minimum.

And before you knew it— you’re back home with a baby girl.

Her snow kissed hair illuminated your room. Her hazy blue eyes that made you want to squish her face every time she opened her eyes to curiously watch you. It was all a dream— really, who knew you’d be a mother? And who knew you’d be such a daydream? Not your husband.

Oh, your husband was enamored with you both.

His lovely wife who birthed a whole carbon copy of him and the said carbon copy.

Satoru’s entire time at home was busy with his newborn baby girl.

Your husband would clean up and rub your feet while she slept or fed from you. No wasted time in this household.

Her sweet smell and delicate frame were appreciated by you both.

But especially Satoru. A deep contrast between him and his daughter. He was the strongest and had had to learn being the most delicate. His hands and sharp muscles that destroyed cursed were handling the tiny body that he now loved. Her small wails and yawns softened his sharp gaze. No detail went unnoticed by him. Your daughter’s birthmarks were all caught by Satoru, because he wanted to learn every single thing of your creation.

While being a changed woman, it didn’t feel like a complete new load— you had the help of your husband.

And the only thing you could wait, was for her to grow up.

Oh, how you both dreaded that!

But, as time moved on— it was obvious that your sweet girl was a change that you both needed.

#basically fluff #gojo fluff #pregnancy #dad gojo #married life #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #jjk #jjk satoru #jjk x reader #jjk x you #satoru gojo x reader #jjk fluff #fluff

51 notes · View notes

razorblade180 · 2 days ago

Text

For a lifetime

Hu Tao:You’re thinking about proposing to Ke- *mouth covered*

Aether:Shhhh! Don’t yell so loudly. Yes, I am. *removes hand* I was hoping you can tell me about proposals in Liyue.

Hu Tao:Aww, how sweet. I could but…this feels more like Zhongli’s expertise. Why ask a funeral director of all people for wedding advice?

Aether:Because you’re unorthodox and Keqing is many ways is unconventional. A modern can bring a modern perspective.

Hu Tao:Ooo I like the logic, though it’s really not that complex of a situation. This may be the new age of mortals but as you know, Liyue revels in lots of traditional practices. Many people still offer gifts between the two families as a proposal, or a special tea ceremony.

Aether:Any jewelry?

Hu Tao:Certain cuts of gold carved into betrothal symbols or in some cases, unique pieces. They could be earrings, a specific necklace ornament, hair piece, rings are gaining popularity. Keqing is on the move so I’d recommend something that doesn’t get in the way.

Aether:Hmmm. I see.

Hu Tao:Hehe, I think you’re overthinking things. I’m positive she’d like whatever you did.

Aether:Doesn’t mean I shouldn’t try. I’ve read a little about those ceremonies, but it’s not like I have a household or parents.

Hu Tao:Hmm, that is true. Now that you mention it, Keqing’s family members are few and far between.

Aether:..What would you want?

Hu Tao:Huh? Me?

Aether:Yeah. We’re in a bit of similar situation. The member of your household is you, but you’re fond of traditions when it calls for them. How would you handle a tea ceremony?

Hu Tao:Oh, I wouldn’t. Same with the gift exchange. It’s not all that necessary in my case. Even if my grandpa and dad were around, I probably wouldn’t want such a grand fuss; even I get embarrassed. Though I might go through with it to see their eyes water with joy.

Aether:That sounds about right.

Hu Tao:Haha! What can I say? You’re right about me being unorthodox. *rubs chin* A proposal fit for me isn’t as crazy as you might be assuming. Honestly…*smiles gently* If I were to dream for a moment, all I would really want would be…

xxxxxxxx

At the top of Mt. Aocang, Chongyun revels in the crisp night air against his skin as he meditates near Cloud Retainers abode, striving for a strong and balanced connection with himself to become a better exor-

Hu Tao:Chongyun!!! Yooohooo! Are you here~

Chongyun:…*opens eyes*

Hu Tao:*slides into view* Aha! Found you. Training with your aunt again?

Chongyun:We finished a while ago. I was calming down more than anything. Something wrong?

Hu Tao:Nope! I have a secret I must share with at least one person or else I’ll explode! Xiangling folds under pressure and Xingqui isn’t as subtle as he pretends to be. That leave my ever reliable exorcist.

Chongyun:Is Zhongli getting married?

Hu Tao:Nope! But Aether is gonna propose to Keqing!

Chongyun:He- wow I was kinda close. Hope it goes well. *stands up* Hold on. Let me get my hood and belongings inside the abode, then we can walk while we talk. *walks away*

Hu Tao:An excellent idea! I’ll even throw in a dinner. Remember, tell no one! You should’ve seen him! He looked so nervous asking questions!

Chongyun:He asked you for wedding advice?

Hu Tao:Pfft, okay. I get why it’s weird but you don’t have to ask surprised. *looks at the water* He was looking for an unconventional touch. *sits down*

Chongyun:What was your unconventional answer?

Hu Tao:I told him to schedule an interview to be her assistant! She’d be so confused but it’ll allow time where she’s technically free. Instead of a résumé’ for office qualifications, it’s for a husband! Knowing her sense of humor, Keqing will smile ear to ear!

Chongyun:…

Hu Tao:*turns head* Hey, I can’t see you but I know judgment when it’s happening.

Chongyun:You really one of a kind. That’s all.

Hu Tao: We both know Keqing doesn’t do vacations and is incredibly smart. You got to catch her by surprise!

Chongyun:Should I be taking notes?

Hu Tao:Ha! You could try, but wouldn’t that be a little obvious in my case? You’re so routine I knew where to find you. If you switch up, I’d notice.

Chongyun:Yeah I guess it would be a little difficult getting the right flowers under your nose.

Hu Tao:Exactly! Wait, flowers? How did you-

Her question was interrupted as Chongyun walked out fully dressed and blushing as he held holding a large bouquet of Glaze Lilies mixed with Spider Lilies. Hu Tao immediately stands up, speechless as a thousand thoughts show on her face with half smiles and eyes unsure to settle on shock or tears while her heart suddenly felt loud.

Chongyun:Y’know when Aether came back and told, I couldn’t help but want to kick myself a little. Not only is this so obviously you, these flowers perfectly describe my feelings towards you.

Hu Tao:*twirls thumbs* I uhhh. A-Aether isn’t proposing to Keqing, is he?

Chongyun:No, at least not tonight if anything. Me however… Hu Tao, these flowers say it best. I love you to the end, and want a lifetime of memories with you. All the ones we already have, they make it all but impossible to only say “we’re dating” or “my girlfriend.” You’re so much more than that for me. We don’t have to rush to the official day, but if you feel like I do, will you let me be all yours? Can I call you my-

Wings fluttered around him; the family warmth of fluttering butterflies graced his presence while warm lips pressed against his. Shaky, but loving hands took the flowers before wrapping around his body. As Hu Tao leaned deeper into her answer, Chongyun could feel her tears kiss his face. When she was satisfied with the kiss, he saw the biggest and most beautiful eyes overflowing.

Hu Tao:Looks like I’ve rubbed off on you, hehe. Chongyun, this is…are you sure? Latern Rite was a good example of how crazy things can get with me.

Chongyun:Things have always been crazy with you. Hasn’t stopped me before. *holds her closer* You’re stuck with me.

His forehead pressed gently against her own, making her heart swell and lips lean in for another kiss. Hu Tao didn’t like to admit it, but she had forgotten the possibility of once again being apart of a family bigger than herself long ago. Now here was this boy she teased about his job, now asking her to be in the family tree. A household bigger than herself. It was terrifying, yet such a relief deep down. He didn’t want to leave her alone, and that dispelled more negativity than any rite or yang energy ever could.

Hu Tao: Hehehe.

Chongyun:What’s so funny?

Hu Tao:It’s just that knowing you, you’ve put so much thought into this that I bet there’s something you didn’t consider. Did you tell your parents you were doing this?

Chongyun:…I mean they love completely. What’s one less tea ceremony?

Hu Tao:Oh boy. You truly are a perfect mess. My adorable fiancé. Yes, the answer is yes.

She watched his eyes light up before spinning her. Chongyun pulled out a small present from his inner pocket. It was too long be a ring box. Instead, it opened to be a golden version of the blossoms on her cherished hat.

Hu Tao:There’s no way you got this made today!

Chongyun:Correct. It’s one of the few things I was certain about. You like your rings and I didn’t want to mess with that or add something you weren’t used to.

Hu Tao:I would’ve replaced a ring in a heartbeat. As you can see, unorthodox clearly doesn’t mean I’m no romantic.

Chongyun:May I do the honors?

Hu Tao nodded eagerly before keeping her head low enough for him to place the ornament. She couldn’t help but go over to the water and admire the new addition to her cherished gift. Eyes began watering again and her giggles slipped out easily. The moment Chongyun joined her at the pond, Hu Tao jumped right back into his arms with fever joy that brought laughter to both of them.

Shenhe:*behind a tree* It appears things turned out rather well. That’s good. I fear offering emotional support for this would be beyond me; even with your help. Good job on the breeze, master.

Xianyun:*sniffling*

Shenhe:Master?

Xianyun:Look away Shenhe! One does not wish to be seen like this! *covers face*

xxxxxx

Aether:*sipping tea*

Keqing:Sorry I’m a little late! * sits down* Work got a little busy as usual.

Aether:Your fine. Food is on its way. I ordered your favorite.

Keqing:Thanks. So, anything crazy happen today?

Aether:*smiles* Nah, not really. You know me, always helping around.

#genshin impact #gi chongyun #chongyun #hu tao #chongtao #gi aether #gi shenhe #gi xianyun #aeqing #gi keqing

52 notes · View notes

changingplumbob · 21 hours ago

Text

Day Sixteen - Kara Group 2/2

Evie is happy to see that the date for today is at a small park, nice and quiet.

Deanna: When you were a kid did you enjoy school?

Evelyn: I'd say so! Once I got to high school was when I started worrying about fitting in and all that. But when I was a young kid, we could all just play around without caring about much else

Deanna: Right! Like there wasn't worrying about being cringe or awkward, everyone just played

Evelyn: And read! There were so many great books when I was a kid

Deanna: When you were little did you have a dream job?

Evelyn: I wanted to be a librarian. I think a small part of me still wants to, actually. As a kid, I wanted to be just like them since they were so kind to me. Now.. I think it'd be nice to help kids the same way those librarians helped me

Deanna: That sounds nice, you're definitely in the right degree for it

Evelyn: Did you have a dream job?

Deanna: I wanted to be a pirate

Evelyn: Aww, how cute! Growing up in the city, I was always so curious about the beach and water. I definitely get the appeal of being a pirate, but I'd probably get too homesick haha

Deanna: Same! I love my family, did not think it through

Evelyn: My family is great, I'm lucky

Deanna: Any particular childhood memories with them?

Evelyn: My brother Avery was in the hospital once, and when he got out, my dad excused us all from school for a day at Myshuno Meadows. It was just so much fun spending time with my whole family. It's not a particularly special memory, I dunno, but I remember it as a really happy day

Deanna: I have some days in my memory like that. Nothing world shattering happened sure, but you got to spend time with the people who loved you

After the date we head back to the villa where it is once again skill time! Will contestants focus on short term needs or play the long game with their study choices?

Mariela and Sarah both chose to focus on comedy, using the computers to research and improve their joking skills. Arista figured it was time to learn some logic and read a book on the subject. Nicola decided to look in to rock climbing for future saftey, while Evie focused on the wider umbrella skill of fitness. Kennedy had a go at one of those new flashy video games, they didn't have many of those on the ranch.

While contestants are busy Deanna works on grilling a treat for dinner. Time to see how she felt the date went.

Devin: De! What's for dinner

Deanna: Ribs

Devin: Nice. How did you find the date went today

Deanna: Yeah, not too bad. I had a lot of fun chatting with Evie and getting to know her. She seemed a little tense about the park being a new public place but I think she handled it well

Devin (voiceover): How was it

Evelyn (voiceover): I had a really good time *blushes* adoring Deanna for sure

Evelyn also became our first contestant to max out the friendship bar! More details later about how this will be rewarded in a way that still leaves her room to improve and benefit from other interactions.

Rather than heading to the dinning room for dinner contestants are asked to put on their active clothes and head out. They arrive at the local spa where they are greeted by Deanna and... someone else.

Deanna: Thanks for coming everyone. I know that this round must have been stressful. Meeting new people, competing, trying to decide if I'm worth staying for. That's why we're here with my best friend Reece, this guy. He is an outdoors loving genius with a desire to spread zen so he's going to lead us through a guided meditation

Reece: Hello. I look forward to meeting you all properly later. For now follow me to the meditation garden. It's outside but in the shade so we won't need to worry about sunburn

Reece led the group through a meditation, successfully lowering heart rates and ensuring everyone was in a good mood for the rest of the evening. Before going in the spa however, one more surprise. Deanna had grilled up a picnic for everyone!

Ribs it was! A nice grilled meal before a proper relax. Deanna divided her time. Initially she sat at the table talking with Kennedy, Arista and Mariela. Halfway through she moved to the stacks of pillows to chat with the rest of the group. Everyone seemed in good spirits.

Heading in to the spa everyone got a face mask! They were assigned to either relax in the sauna, relax in a massage chair or get a proper massage as their first activity. Autonomy was toggled on full from the moment the meditation ended so contestants had some time to chat or further pamper themselves. Remember, if they do not win a date from the upcoming cast challenge then this will be their last opportunity to talk to Deanna before the commencement ceremony. Reece is also around but friendship gained with him will not be judged.

Nicola and Sarah both started off with massages! For an unkonwn reason when Sarah spun in to a robe her hair changed, but fear not. After the massage it went back to normal. Kennedy, Mariela, Evie and Deanna relaxed in the massage chairs first, letting their worries slip away. Arista spent her time waiting for a massage talking to Reece, finding him pretty funny. When Kennedy was finished in her chair she found Arista attempting to order a drink, but unfortunately the bartender was leaving…

While Sarah practised yoga the other contestants headed downstairs to chat and speculate about what the whole cast day might be. Mariela and Arista shared a special hug, bonding over how much the lighting did not favor their complexions. Overall I think this group enjoyed their time together, we'll have to wait and see if any of them share a group next time.

@abbysimsfun, @ashubii, @pixeldistractions, @ravingsockmonkey, @sanitysims, @sleepyselkiesims

#DatingDeanna #DatingDeannaRound1 #sims 4 #the sims #simblr #my sims #ts4 #active simblr

36 notes · View notes

yoiisa · 2 days ago

Text

GUIDING LIGHT ⋆˙⟡ RIN ITOSHI

"To a house, not a home, all alone 'cause nobody's there, Where I pace in my pen and My friends found friends who care, No one sees when you lose, When you're playing solitaire" - "Dear Reader" by Taylor Swift Tags: situationship! Rin x reader, HURT AND COMFORT! Rin is a poor baby who just needs a hug, which he gets! Self doubt and insecurities, men who cry, ambiguous ending??

a/n: This is part of a little series I doing where I'm writing BLLK fics for each of my fav songs on all the T Swift albums. I already did Bachira's (Fearless) and Kaiser's (Lover). This is one is off of Midnights.

I saw a tiktok edit that solidified Rin as "Dear Reader" immediately. I also saw another video on twitter that I can't find anymore of a kdrama I think (??) of a man crying BEAUTIFULLY, and someone off screen wiping his tears. I said "That's Rin" and thus, this fic was born! I hope y'all enjoy!! ദ്ദി ( ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ )

When Rin had fallen off of the face of the Earth, Blue Lock seemed like the last place he could've been. To be fair, you hadn't known of its existence until suddenly, it was announced that eleven soccer players from that facility would be playing Japan's U20 team. A mysterious building designed to train soccer players? Suddenly, it felt obvious that there was nowhere else Rin could've possibly gone.

You weren't overtly comforted either by the fact that apparently Sae would be coming back to play for U20 either. It didn't matter that you were his . . . girlfriend-ish? There were something's Rin absolutely refused to talk to you about, and his older brother was number one on that list.

Watching the game had only heightened that anxiety. It was brutal. Your dad had put the game on to play in the background as your family had dinner, but you'd forced the food down your throat as quickly as possible to avoid having to see it. Sae was massacring Blue Lock's team, and you could practically feel Rin growing more and more frustrated through your TV.

You retreated to your room to avoid thinking about it. Why should you care after all? He's the one who ghosted you for months to do this! Rin Itoshi was not your problem at all!

But curiosity is a strong incentive, and you found yourself watching the match on your laptop in the last five minutes. Rin was losing his mind. His tongue was lolling out of his mouth, his eyes were wild and focused. They watched Sae's movements like a sniper and when he finally kicked the ball away from his brother, you couldn't help the yelp that escaped your lips.

It still wasn't enough. Another player scored the final goal, securing the win for Blue Lock, but leaving Rin completely out of the spotlight. When all the players rushed that blue-eyed one and Rin wasn't part of the mosh, you knew you'd seen enough and closed your laptop, content to leave Rin beyond a screen and out of your mind.

But your heart had other plans.

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

Blue Lock's players were catapulted to pseudo-celebrity status soon after the U20 match. When you opened Twitter one day to see a stalkerish paparazzi photo taken of all the players at a cafe about a week after the game, your heart immediately whispered Rin in the darkest-most corners of your brain.

He wasn't in the photo though, so you left the voice unattended.

Then you checked your phone again an hour or so later and saw another photo of more people at a different cafe, and still, no Rin. The whisper grew a bit louder, but you were still determined to pay it no mind.

Then another photo at a karaoke bar. Then at bowling. More and more and more, and now the sun had gone down and all you could see was Rin's absence every time a new photo showed up on your timeline.

Before you knew it, you had sneakers on, a heavy coat, and a scarf on. The night bit at your nose and whipped your hair into knots that would be difficult to comb out later but all you could think about was Rin.

The voice was loud enough to echo now. Rin. Rin. Rin-

Unwittingly, you had run onto the intersection that led to his street. You knew this pathway like the back of your hand, and your feet led you instinctively along the pavement. It all looked the same: the lamp post with posters and stickers covering it, the fire hydrants all perfectly spaced, the cracks in the sidewalk.

When you saw his house, your feet stopped. You stared at the building, your heart thudding wildly in your chest. It was an uneasy feeling that stirred in your stomach, but it was so familiar. It felt eerily like the butterflies that used to swarm your body when Rin kissed your cheek. When Rin linked your elbows. When Rin bought your favorite bread for you. When Rin pulled you into his arms on his bed. When Rin was here. When you thought he could be yours one day.

How stupid.

You immediately turn around, the fool again for this man. Tears soak your lashes and your cheeks, and you wipe them away. You refuse to pay this man any more attention than he deserves.

However, the world has funny ways of working. As soon as you turn that familiar corner again, your met with a pair of staunchly familiar teal eyes.

Rin looks taller now. Or maybe you just feel small compared to him. Before, it was something you liked- it made you feel safe when he tucked you under his chin. Now it just feels insulting, like you're a bug he's ready to step on at any second.

You hold each other's gaze before you finally open your mouth to say something. It might be a curse word, or it might be declarations of missing him. You don't know and never will since he beats you to the punch.

"You're how old now, and you still don't know how to properly wrap your scarf?" he reaches up to your unraveling scarf and immediately works to tighten it around your neck.

As his hands hover around your neck, all you can croak out is "W-what?"

When he's done, the two of you return to your silent staring competition. After about a minute he says, "What are you doing here?"

Anger surges in you.

"I should be asking you that," you snarl. "You left for this soccer training camp, and I don't even get a heads up! I have to find out from a stupid TV about where you are?!"

"Hey-"

"And then, I find out from the internet that all the players are getting time off from that boot camp and still radio silence?" you scoff and storm past him. "You should've just stayed there."

Rin grits his teeth and grabs your wrist before you can fully walk away. You whip around to glare at him, but your expression falters as something you've never seen in him flashes in his eyes.

"It's cold," is all he manages, his eyes narrowed and trained on you the way they'd been in the match on Sae. However, whereas Sae was met with contempt, the gaze Rin's offering you is begging. "Come to my house."

"Fuck you," you reply as you let him drag you to his home.

Around half an hour later, the two of you sit awkwardly on his bed. Your jacket is on his chair, and your scarf on top of that. Rin is staring up at you and you down at your hands.

"Why didn't you tell me you were leaving?" You finally ask.

Rin's quiet for a moment before saying, "I don't know."

Your voice breaks as you shake your head. "Rin that isn't enough."

"I know."

"I couldn't . . . there was no way for me to contact you. I couldn't ask your parents where you were. They don't even know that we-" you catch yourself before you finish the sentence. There's no we here, no us. Just him and you. Ships in the night.

" . . . we?" he asks, leaning forward to look at you.

"Never mind, forget I said anything."

Another thick silence falls over the two of you. You sigh and shake your head, finally looking up at him. When your eyes meet, it feels like the room will explode.

"Was Blue Lock worth it then? Is it helping you become the world's best striker?" What you really mean is Was abandoning me worth it? but you and Rin aren't dating. There's no abandonment in something that doesn't exist, right?

" . . . did you watch the U20 match?" he asks, trepidation lacing his voice.

"I did."

"Then you already know the answer."

Another bout of anger wells up inside you, hot and fiery you. You choke out a laugh, the sound awkward and crass. A few more stray tears chase each other down your face, before your heart finally takes a backseat to common sense. You stand up from the bed and move to gather your things when a hand grasps you by the waist.

Rin's hand is large and engulfs the dip of your waist as he pulls you back towards him. His eyes are wide and desperate, the begging from before now something much stronger. It's attractive and terrifying to see this look on someone's face. You want to close his eyes with your fingers and kiss his eyelids, as if to scare the desperation away. His lips are tight and look like they hold a million secrets that he's just begging to share.

When tears stream down his face, both of you are surprised. Rin chokes on air and coughs as he bows his head in shame. His hand loosens around your waist and you take a tentative step towards him. His head rests on your chest as his tears flow freely now, soaking your shirt. Your arms come limply up, and softly pull him closer to you in a hug.

"I lost," he sobs into your shirt.

"Your team won," you remind him.

"But I lost," he says again, more ragged this time. "The . . . coach, you could call him . . . he centered the team around me. By the end of the game, I lost them to Isagi." So that's his name, huh? "I started the game trying to win ni- Sae's attention, and that went to Isagi too."

Rin lets out a sharp laugh, devoid of all humor and happiness. "I lost my mind too. You must've saw it, me at the end there, like a dog."

He looks up at you, his eyes now red as well. Tears run rampant down his cheeks and he looks so broken. He looks so soft and tiny. You don't know what to do with this man. All you can manage is wiping his tears away. He chases your palms and fingers with his lips, leaning into your touch and turning his face to litter his lips all over your hands.

"I don't want to lose you too," he mutters.

"You left," you sob, tears running down your face now too.

"I didn't want you to see me lose," he admitted. "That's done now though. I don't care anymore. I just want you."

"Liar," you whisper as he pulls you down for a kiss.

It's every bit perfect as it should be, with your mouth remembering how to dance with his immediately. He kisses your jaw next, then nuzzles into your neck, wiping some of his tears off onto the skin there. You shudder and pull back to stare down at him.

"I know," he says. "Just stay the night."

"Are your parents home?"

"Did you see anyone when you walked in? They won't be back until next week."

Your eyes soften and you pet his hair. He leans into your touch, seeking it out like it's the only thing keeping him sane. Once he's got his fill of your caresses, he reclines the two of you onto his bed and you share a few more magical kisses.

You change into some of his clothes for the night, and he kisses you more.

When the lights in his room get turned off and all that exists to light your world is the moonlight streaming in through the windows, he kisses you.

The night is so magical, you can almost forget the notification that pops onto his screen right before you go to bed. It's a reminder than in a week, he's going right back to Blue Lock. All you can do is pray that this time, he wins.

a/n: AHHHH all done with the next installment! I love Rin so much, it's literally not even funny.

Also, I started watching Wind Breaker and am obsessed with Suo, so I might write something for him soon too! EEEEEE!

#bllk x reader #bllk #blue lock #blue lock x reader #rin itoshi #itoshi rin #rin itoshi x reader #rin itoshi x you #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi rin x you #bllk angst

34 notes · View notes

yaoi-enthusiasts · 3 days ago

Text

Master Sukuna - One Shot

chapter warnings: kidnapping \ smut \ groping (no consent) \ honestly was originally a Drabble and ideas, probably sucks \ virigin reader & virgin sukuna

word count 4909

Ryomen Sukuna Masterlist

“Get her.” A masked man said through gritted teeth. Times had changed from when you were a child. Women were free to do as they please, til one day, they were all taken from their homes, stripped of their rights, and were forced to serve wherever they were sent.

Your parents and little sister made a deal with the government officials. Your dad, a high-ranking military man, could leave the country if they gave them one of their daughters. Your mom was quick to tell your dad to give them you, since you were adopted, and why would she give up her only blood child for a child she never wanted? Soon after, you escaped by a stroke of luck. Rebels raided the truck you were in, getting you out and taking you to safety. Now, here you are, lying on the grass, after the government officials found the camp, raided it, and killed most of the people there. You lied on the plush grass, as the sun casted over your pale skin, awaiting your death.

“Get her.” The masked man gritted his teeth as two men lifted your weakened body from the ground. Your eyes drifted to nothingness. “If she dies, just know we’re in trouble.” One of the men said before you passed out.

When you awoke, you found yourself lying on a plush canopy bed draped in a velvet red comforter. The unfamiliar clothes caught your attention as you realized someone had bathed and dressed you in cotton sleepwear. A raspy and rough voice spoke from across the room, “So, you’ve finally decided to wake up.” You covered your body with the comforter and noticed a man sitting in a corner chair. Despite the dim lighting, you couldn’t quite make out the details of his face, but there was something familiar about his voice.

“W-where am I?” you stammered, looking around the room. The man finally stood up and walked closer to the bed, coming into the light of the lamp. Your eyes widened in surprise as you saw the one person you had never thought you’d see again. “S-Sukuna?” you covered your mouth. He was dressed in black dress pants, a black button-up shirt, and three of the buttons were undone, revealing his chain.

“So, you do remember?” he chuckled, scratching his chin. “W-what? What on earth am I doing here? Is this your…your place?” you questioned, looking around the vast room. “My estate, yes. I took over for my father when he passed away.” He sat at the edge of the bed, making you pull your legs up to your chest.

“Who bathed me? Why am I here?” you kept asking, your eyes fixed on the tattooed man. “Where’s Yuji?” you asked another question that made him look at you immediately. “In his room, probably playing video games,” he replied. You grew frustrated that he was only answering the least important questions. You could sense the frustration brewing in his eyes as well.

“You are here because I issued an executive order for you to be here,” he said, letting out a huff. “I sent my men out to find you. After I found your record in the system, I discovered that your father had sold you off to the government. I’ve been searching for you ever since. You were difficult to find.” He finished answering your questions, leaving you speechless. “Are you going to rape me?” You questioned, a lingering question that had been haunting you since you awoke. You knew what had happened to the women sold off to these powerful men. “And why would I do that? Because I am one of the country’s leaders?” He raised an eyebrow, standing up and straightening himself. “Are you hungry?” He asked, looking down at your frightened form. “No,” you lied, feeling your stomach ache. “You are. Follow me.” He walked away, opening the door. “The door is unlocked, you are not bound to this room.” He stood at the door, waiting for you to follow, which you eventually did.

“Uraume!” Sukuna called out, “Yes?” The white-haired individual questioned. “Go get Yuji and have the chef prepare something immediately,” Sukuna commanded, walking away from Uraume. “Yes, Sukuna,” the servant casually replied, which made Sukuna side-eye Uraume. “You’re lucky that you’re my oldest friend,” Sukuna scoffed. “Well, you’re lucky that I’m here. I could be in Cabo, minding my own business,” Uraume replied, walking away, making you lightly chuckle. “You find that funny?” Sukuna turned around and looked down at you. You had known Sukuna since you were three, while he was seven. You and his brother Yuji were the same age and attended the same daycares and schools. You often stayed at their home since your parents never really cared to be home to care for you. Yuji’s mother was caring towards you and had always wished for a daughter, so you naturally became one of their kids. “I mean, it was kind of funny,” you crossed your arms and looked up at him. “Heh… Brat,” Sukuna scoffed as he continued walking to the kitchen area.

“Y/n?” A young man’s voice echoed through the dining room, making you look up immediately. “Yuji?” You stood up from the table and rushed over to the pink-haired young man. “Yu, you’re so tall…” You felt your eyes water. “Am I? I mean, we’re both 24 now…” Yuji scratched the back of his neck shyly. “I missed you…” You hugged him again, inhaling his scent. “I missed you too. Glad Sukuna could find you.” Yuji smiled as he rubbed your back. “Time to eat.” Sukuna finally said, as the servants set the food on the table. You sat down across from Sukuna, still way too nervous around him. He had always held a cold expression. The three of you ate quietly, but Yuji always knew how to start up a conversation when things got awkward. “I’m sorry about your parents. You’re safe here now.” He smiled, sitting beside you. “Am I?” You questioned, flicking your gaze up at Sukuna. “Why wouldn’t you be?” Sukuna scoffed, putting his fork down. “What is expected of me? I mean, you leaders kidnap women, strip them of their rights, and force us to suck you off and clean your room.” You crossed your arms, feeling your stomach turn. “Maybe at Satoru’s, but not here. My other servants have their duties, but I don’t make them suck me off and clean my room… Unless they want to.” He smirked. “That’s gross.” Yuji coughed. “I’ve already made the others aware that you’re not like them. You’re like myself and Yuji. You may do as you please inside the estate.” Sukuna said as he picked up his fork and bit into his food again. “Why? Why are you treating me like this? Like I’m a person? Putting up some front, like you actually give a fuck?” You questioned, slamming your utensils down. “Y/n…” Yuji tried to grab your hand, “Don’t touch me.” You stood up, looking at Sukuna. “What do you want from me?” You shouted, stepping away from the table. “I don’t want anything from you.” He said as he set his fork down, staying seated. “Fuck you. Yes, you do.” You hissed. “I don’t.” He repeated. Then why am I here? Why did you come looking for me!?” You started to cry, feeling your body tingle and shake. Sukuna stood up from the dining table and turned to walk away. “Where are you going?” you asked, feeling a growing fear of his calmness. The Sukuna you grew up knew for sure wasn’t this calm. He was always getting into fights, getting grounded, and was always violent as a child. But you never feared him like you did now. “Stop… I don’t…” He put his hand over his face, refusing to speak as he walked away. You stood there speechless, your fist balled. “He doesn’t know what?” you felt tears fall down your cheek as you watched his figure disappear.

“Y/n… Sukuna cares about you deeply. I understand this is a lot to bear, but please know that we are here to protect you, not harm you.” As Yuji stood up, he pulled you into a hug. It made you weep and feel guilty about Sukuna barely eating his dinner, even though your anger was justified.

Yuji guided you back to your room and gave you a warm hug before bidding you goodnight. “If you need anything, there’s a phone on your nightstand. It has my, Sukuna’s, and Uraume’s contact information in there. Also, my room is down this same hall. Just the two of us.” He smiled and patted your back before walking down to his room. As soon as you shut the door, you rushed to the side table and pulled out a phone. It had no password, so you opened it up quickly. “Why would he get this for me?” you questioned, your heart pounding in your chest. You felt the phone buzz, and you glanced at the text message from Sukuna.

Sukuna: I’ll take you out to town tomorrow to get some clothes.

You: Why?

Sukuna: Because you need clothes.

You: I’m sorry about dinner.

Sukuna: It’s fine. Go to sleep.

You closed out the text messages, setting the phone down to look around the room. What was this life?

Next day

“Wake up, woman,” Sukuna said, standing beside the bed where you lay with your disheveled hair. “It’s early.” You groaned and pulled the blanket over yourself. “It’s 11. Get up.” Pulling the blanket off you. “Ugh, you asshole,” you groaned, sitting up and your curls all over the place. “Here, I have this that should fit,” he said, handing you a long pale yellow sundress and brown sandals. “Get dressed, and we’ll go,” he said, walking out of the room, leaving you to wake up. “God damn,” you groaned, sliding out of bed to take a shower.

“About damn time,” he scoffed as you left the room, following the same path you had taken yesterday. “I’m sorry that I’ve lacked sleep for the past eight years of my life; it’s truly inconvenient, isn’t it?” You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms. “Good morning, Y/n. You look pretty.” Yuji smiled, bouncing around and ready for today’s adventure. “Let’s go,” Sukuna grumbled, leading you both to the front of the estate where a car was waiting. “Sukuna hates shopping, so he always makes me go alone,” Yuji chuckled. “But today, he was adamant he wanted to join.” Yuji winked. “Shut up, boy,” Sukuna snapped. “Oh, I’m so scared, big brother,” Yuji slapped Sukuna’s butt and ran to the car. “Fucking punk,” Sukuna pressed his fingers to his temples. “Why did you want to come today?” You questioned, standing beside him. “Well, I have the card, don’t I?” He questioned. “Yeah, but you could have given it to Yu,” you said. “Yeah… well…” Sukuna’s ears turned red as he walked away from you and opened the car door for you. “Let’s go. It’s already noon, and I’m hungry,” he rolled his eyes, but the pink hue on his cheeks remained.

“What about this one?” Yuji picked up a pink shirt from a rack. “It’s the same color as your hair and Sukuna’s.” You smiled and grabbed it, heading to the fitting room. Sukuna stood in the waiting area, wearing his usual black button-up and black slacks. You emerged from the fitting room with the clothes you liked, walking up to the register where Sukuna was standing. “You finally picked something,” Sukuna said, looking down at you. He grabbed the clothes and handed them to the woman at the register. “I don’t want to shop anymore…” You said, glancing at the clock that read 5:08 PM. “We can go. I’ll have the chef prepare something to eat when we get back to the estate.” Sukuna swiped his card and grabbed the bags. “The car is already full of stuff anyway. Whatever else you need, I can have Uraume get for you.” The air grew quiet once more, and both of you looked away from each other.

One Week Later

“Whatcha’ watching?” You questioned as you entered into the movie room in Sukuna’s estate. “Scarface. Where’s Yu?” Sukuna turned to see you enter into the room, and sit beside him. “Mmm playing video games, can I join?” You grabbed the popcorn from him, munching immediately. “Not like ya’ gave me a choice.” He rolled his eyes, turning his eyes back to the screen. “What do you do all day? I hardly see you.” Eyes still glued to the screen, “Working. You think I just sit all day beating my meat?” Sukuna chuckled, while you choked on your own spit. “Jesus, you sicko.” You scoffed. “What do you do for work?” You questioned further. “Architect.” You nodded as you looked back on the screen. “You chew loud.” He said as he popped a popcorn into his mouth. “You crack your knuckles loud.” You snapped back, making him chuckle. “Brat.” There was that silence again, as you both watched the movie in some comfortable weird silence you both shared.

A month later

“Hey, open this fucking door.” Skunks hisses, banging on your door. “What the fuck did he do? Answer me!” Sukuna’s voice rumbled and roared. Back track to earlier that evening; Sukuna got an unexpected visitor, it being the one and only, most annoying and agitating, Satoru Gojo. “Sukunaaaa.” He sang through the estate. You were walking around in your pajama’s with Yuji, eating a popsicle. “Servants here look like that?” Satoru raised a brow, walking up to you. “I’m not a servant.” You scoffed, going to walk away, until you felt his hand grab your wrist. “Do you not know who I am?” He grinned, “Clearly not, so must mean you aren’t that important.” You knew who he was, but he didn’t know that. “Oh yeah?” He smirked, as he pushed you up against the nearest wall, groping your breast, and rubbing his boner on you. “Stop!” You screamed, as Yuji tried to grab a hold of you. You began to cry and scream, while the white haired man, covered your mouth with his hand. “Go grab your brother.” Satoru smiled at Yuji, as he tossed you on the ground, leaving you trembling. It wasn’t until Sukuna started racing down the stairs and shoving Satoru, that you got up and rushed to your room in tears. “Get the fuck out!” Sukuna hissed, telling one of his guards to remove one of the big leaders from his home. “You got a real prize there, let me have a taste Sukuna…” He smiled wickedly, “I’ll bash your fucking head in, maybe then you’ll start acting less foolish.” He spit, slamming his doors. “Yuji, what happened?” Sukuna looked at Yuji, who was standing there frozen. “Yuji!” He slapped his brother, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to snap him out of his trance. “H-he, he grabbed her… Started touching her.” He stammered, “Why didn’t you stop him? Huh? Are you stupid!” Sukuna shouted, storming off, leaving his brother to sit in those questions. Sukuna didn’t mean it, even if it sounded like it. “Y/n!” “Hey, open this fucking door.” He hissed, banging on it.

“Leave me alone.” You sobbed into your pillow, feeling violated. “Open this door, Jesus Christ.” Sukuna needed you to open this door voluntarily, because if he opened that door, it would only make you more scared. “Here, let me.” Yuji whispered, his cheeks pink, as he did something to the knob, and popping the door open. “Please, just leave me alone.” You cried out, your eyes swollen, and you clutched your body. “Hey…” Sukuna quietly approached the bed getting on his knees. “I promise, I would never hurt you… Just listen please.” He grasped your hand, while you tried to pull away. “Your scared, I know… I didn’t know he was coming here, if… fuck, if I would have known, I wouldn’t have let him anywhere near you.” In the last month, you and Sukuna had grown closer, eating beside him instead of away from him, even on days when Yuji didn’t join. Sometimes when he would sit and watch a film in his home theater, you would sit with him, munching on whatever snack Uraume whipped up. But here you were, back to square one, all because of Satoru fucking Gojo.

“Why would he touch me like that?” You sobbed as he finally pulled you into his embrace on the floor. Your legs dropped over him, and you sat on his lap. “He’s a pervert. He does this to piss me off. I should have made sure you were safe.” He grumbled, his chin resting on the crown of your head. “Why don’t we go for a walk? It’s getting dark, and I know how much you love the night sky.” He spoke much softer than usual. You nodded, and he helped you up. You both walked into the backyard of the estate, where a garden of flowers led to a stream behind the house. “It’s warm.” You smiled as your tears dried, and the outside air felt toasty on your skin. “Is it now?” Sukuna looked back at you as you still held his arm. “Why did that man come here earlier?” You stopped in your tracks, halting his walk since you were holding onto his arm for dear life. “I don’t even know… Fuckin’ prick.” Sukuna ran his hands through his hair, thoroughly frustrated. “The stars look nice, don’t they?” You sighed and plopped down on the plush grass, patting beside you for him to sit. You heard a grumble from his lips, but it was definitely more incoherent. “Why did you become one of the leaders? You don’t seem like the type to agree with half of what’s going on. You hardly even speak to the other servants.” You questioned as you played with the grass and looked up at the sky. You looked over at Sukuna, who was staring up with you. His wheels turned, trying to figure out what to say or if he should say anything at all. “My dad was one of the founding leaders. I just happened to be the next of kin when he died. It was either I joined or I was sold off and forced into the military. That’s what the Gojo family wanted, but I knew… that, if I wanted to find,” he cut himself off, looking at you for you to put the pieces together. “To find what, Sukuna?” You knew exactly what he was implying, but you needed to hear it from his mouth. “I wanted to find you and bring you home.” He huffed, lying down on the grass. You joined him, lying your head next to his. “I wasn’t particularly happy about being kidnapped, but it brought me back here with you and Yuji, so I can’t complain too much.” Turning your head, you gazed into his eyes. “Don’t look at me like that.” He turned away, looking up. “You used to be so mean to me when we were kids. You always pushed me around, stole my toys, and cut off my Barbie heads.” You chuckled, looking back up. “Why are you so nice to me now?” You added, “I don’t know.”

Month Two

“Fucking bastard, give me my phone.” You shouted as you barged into Sukuna’s room. “I told you… This is only used for people here, not for the outside world.” He held the phone above your head. “I just wanted to call my dad.” You shouted. “No. Why would you want to call that low-life? Are you out of your mind?” He hissed, his hand tightening against the phone. “You’ll break it!” You jumped up to grab it, only to on accident push him onto his back against the bed. “Well how did we get here?” He smirked. “Give me the phone Sukuna.” You groaned, trying to grab it, straddling his lap. “Give me the phone now!” You threw a tantrum. “The answer is no, if you are going to use it for people who sold you, I refuse to give it to you.” He leaned up, grasping your waist, looking into your eyes. “Sukuna… let me go.” You blushed as you felt something poking at your womanhood. “Why should I, you seem to fit nicely here.” He said as he leaned into your neck, taking a whiff of your freshly washed hair, only making him groan. You and Sukuna had already been in multiple instances where you were somehow pinned against one another, or sitting on him by accident, and now straddling his lap. “Sukuna…” You felt a moan erupt from your lips, as he rolled his hips up, wanting some friction himself. “Let me go…” You moaned, contradicting yourself. Sukuna leaned back, looking at you, gazing your expression. “Okay.” He said, as he helped you off of him, handing you the phone. “Don’t call him.” He said before handing it back. You nodded, as you walked out the bedroom, with a heat swelling in your stomach.

“Why are you so red?” Yuji questioned as you sat at the dinner table, trying to eat your food, sitting in front of Sukuna, instead of beside him. “I’m not red Yuji.” You scoffed, still eating quickly. “I’m going to bed.” Sukuna stood up, and walking away. “What a weirdo.” Yuji chuckled, looking over at you. Yuji might have not noticed it, but you definitely noticed the raging boner in his sweats, that he casually hid with a t-shirt that hung low. “Yeah… Total weirdo.” You faked a chuckle, your cheeks burning brighter. “You know Yu, I’m actually really tired from being out in the garden all day. I’m gonna go to sleep.” You forced a yawn, which Yuji bought, because he’s innocent, and doesn’t think to deeply. “Goodnight then, see ya tomorrow!” He said chipper, slurping up his food. “Oh hey, by the way, my friend Megumi is comin’ over tomorrow!” Yuji shouted, as you nodded and walked away. You went into your bedroom, waiting to hear Yuji eventually go into his own room. When you finally heard him start playing video games, is when you snuck out of your room quietly. You saw as Uraume locked the front doors, and looked over at you. “Sukuna is still awake.” They said, as they turned back around, as you blushed deeply once again. Did they feel the tension you two also have been feeling?

You padded down the other side of the front of the house, where you 3 lived. You were in front of his door in no time, as you felt like you were sprinting in a race. You took a deep breath as you lightly knocked on the door, inhaling once again. You didn’t hear anything, yet the light under the door was on. Maybe he was in the shower? You stood there for a second longer, before you lost the nerves, and went to turn around, the you saw the light get brighter, but a shadow taking it up. You turned back around, seeing his sweats hang down his waist, the pink happy trail visible, and his tattoos that you hadn’t seen much, even more visible now. “What are you doing here?” He gritted his teeth, you didn’t know but he had just spent the last 45 minutes in the shower, jerking off to the thought of you straddling his lap.

“You just took a shower?” You questioned, looking at your feet. “Yes.” He responded, as you looked up. “Can, can I come in?” Your big eyes looking desperate to be closer to him. “If I let you in… I won’t be able to control myself.” He looked down at your figure, you were in a silk v-neck tank top, and silk long pants, with your fuzzy socks. “I don’t want you too.” You looked into his eyes, holding the gaze. “Fuck.” He groaned, as he grabbed your waist, and pulled you into the room, lightly shoving you against the wall, latching his lips onto yours. “God I’ve wanted this for so long.” He moaned into your mouth, pushing his manhood against you. “G-go slow.” You tried to breathe through your nervousness. You looked up at the towering man who had his eyes squeezed shut. “I’ll fuckin’, I’ll cum.” He moaned, feeling his cock twitch in his sweats. “God, I’m about to cum.” He said throughout gritted teeth. “D-do you need help?” You questioned as he looked down at you, he nodded yes, feeling like a teenage boy, but the thing was, despite his age, he was untouched, his hand being his only aid for all these years, because he refused to do that with any of the servant girls, like the way the other leaders would. “M’ sorry… Never…” he moaned as he pulled his sweats down, where his heavy leaking cock came into view. “You’ve never?” You questioned, as you touched the tip of his cock with your finger, seeing it twitch, releasing a milky liquid. You didn’t know much about sex, but you had encountered a few people having sex back in the rebel camp you stayed at for so long. You dropped to your knees, something eye length with his aching cock. “I don’t know what I’m doing…” you looked up at him, watching his eyes shut as you wrapped your lips around his leaky tip, tasting his pre-cum immediately. You moaned on his cock, as you licked around his tip, which made him pull out of your mouth fast, and spill all over your silk top. “Fuck, oh my fuck…” He blinked his eyes several times, trying to get his vision back. “I, I hardly,” You stammered, “That felt amazing… fuck.” Sukuna looked so new to all of this, it was exciting for you, he was fumbling around like a virgin, kicking off his sweats and boxers, he stood there stark naked, his musclier form was daunting. “Take ‘em off.” He said in a huff, his cock hardening up again. You stared at him, as he walked closer to you, his fingers tracing the hem of your shirt, lifting it over your head. “Oh.” You moaned, as he pushed your pants down quickly after. “H-hold on.” You put your hands on his chest, trying to calm down. “I won’t put it in yet, just let me touch you.” He whispered, helping you push your panties down. “Gentle please.” You said as he grabbed on to your waist, latching his lips to yours once again, and guiding you to the bed. Pushing you down, he spread your legs, and immediately diving in. He latched his lips to your cunt, taking a few seconds to find your clit, and finding it, latching his mouth to it. “Oh…” you arched you back, moaning out. “I- oh my.” You could only moan at the way you felt him devour you. “W-wait.” You felt him tease your hole, sliding it in slowly. “Taste so so good…” he moaned into your cunt, when you looked down, you could see the tip of his nose glistening, you could only imagine what the rest of his face looked like below his nose. “So tight baby.” He said, as he pushed a finger in, adding a second, making you feel the stretch.

“Fuck!” You pushed your cunt against his mouth again, as you felt something growing in your stomach. “Please, don’t stop… please please.” You cried out, tears pooling down your cheek, as he began feeling around inside, finding that spongey spot, and rubbing it, making you whimper out. “Please please please.” You begged, crying out for him. He sucked on your clit, making you squeal out, as your cunt squeezed around his fingers, feeling your juices coat his fingers, pulling out after you rode out your orgasm. You watched as he leaned up, chin glistening, as he brought his fingers to your lips. “Taste how good you are.” You opened your mouth, swirling your tongue around his digits, making him blush. “Can I put it in?” He leaned down, whispering in your ear. He felt you nod, pulling back, smashing his lips to your again, tasting yourself. You felt him center his cock to your twitching hole, “Gon’ hurt, sorry.” He groaned as he pushed his inches into you. “Fuck fuck.” He leaned his head down, moving to suckle your breast. You felt your hands roam, running them through his hair, making him moan into your breast. “Love you, I love you.” You cried as you felt him push all 9 thick inches into you. Taking your breath away. Sukuna wasn’t one to say such words, but the way he trailed his lips up to your lips, softly kissing instead of devouring, thrusting slowly and deep. “Made for me.” He said into your mouth. You would learn later on in the relationship that bloomed, that he was a rough lover, tossing you around, putting you in front of mirrors, fucking you on the dining table, but for tonight, as you both gave yourself to one another for the first time, he could take it slow, and control his stallion hips.

“You ain’t goin anywhere, your mine now.” He growled, flipping you over and biting your shoulder, still come down from your orgasm, your eyes widen. “Wait wait.”

“I’m done waiting.”

#anime fanfic #fanfiction #ryomen sukuna #sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen smut #sukuna smut #jjk sukuna #sukuna ryomen #jujutsu kaisen sukuna

36 notes · View notes

touchtheinvisiblestars · 2 days ago

Text

Close To Home Part Three

Read part 2 here!

***

You tried to stay in the moment—really, you did.

The afternoon sun warmed the patio as you sat across from your sister at the café table, but your mind kept drifting. She was talking, catching you up on something her youngest had done earlier in the week, but you weren’t really there. Not fully.

“Okay,” she said suddenly, cutting off her own story with a knowing squint, she sat forward eyeing you suspiciously. “You’re doing that thing.”

You blinked, feeling caught out. “What thing?”

“That thing where you nod like you’re listening, but you are somewhere else entirely. You’ve barely touched your sandwich.”

You looked down at your plate, cheeks flushing slightly. You hadn’t realized how lost you were in your thoughts. Joel’s voice, the way his hands held you, the way he’d said your name like it had weight—it kept replaying in your head, looping like a quiet hum beneath everything else.

You let out a small laugh and shrugged. “Sorry. Just… long week.”

“Mm-hmm.” She leaned forward with that sharp, playful grin she always used when she was about to dig something out of you. “Or is this about a guy?”

Your silence was answer enough.

Her eyebrows shot up. “Oh my god—it is. Okay, spill. Who is he? When did this happen? Why haven’t I been told?”

You glanced over to where her kids were playing just beyond the patio rail, racing through the grass of the park nearby with their dad, blissfully unaware of anything beyond their own giggles. “Can we walk? I feel weird talking about this sat here.”

“Absolutely,” she said, already standing, practically vibrating with curiosity.

You strolled along the sidewalk, uneaten food long forgotten, heading toward the path that wrapped around the park. Birds chirped overhead and spring leaves rustled in the breeze, but the moment felt oddly out of sync with the storm of feelings twisting in your stomach.

“So,” she prompted gently, “what’s his name?”

“Joel,” you said quietly. “Met him a few nights ago. At a bar. We talked for hours. Then… well… we spent the night together.”

Your sister’s eyes widened. “Whoa. Okay! Wow. I don't recognise his name... He got a last name?”

You laughed, though it sounded more self-conscious than amused. “Probably, yeah. But I didn’t get his last name or his number. He got a message the next morning- had to leave. And now I’ve got no way of reaching him. It’s just—”

“You’re hoping he shows up again,” she finished for you, softer now.

You nodded, your throat tightening a little. “It didn’t feel like a one-night thing. It just… felt different. He was different.”

She nudged your shoulder with hers. “Hey. If it was meant to be something more, you’ll see him again.”

You smiled faintly, though doubt still sat heavily in your chest. It left a sour taste in your mouth that you couldn't easily ignore.

***

The next few days passed in a blur of routine—school, grading, early mornings, and quiet evenings. Every time your phone buzzed, you hoped maybe, somehow, he’d found your number. But of course he hadn’t. You never gave him your number. Part of you thanked yourself for not asking. At least you didn't have the worry of him ghosting you properly.

By Thursday, you’d convinced yourself to let it go. Maybe it really was just one of those passing moments—beautiful, but fleeting.

You stopped by the grocery store after work, the mundane comfort of your shopping list grounding you in the now. You were halfway down the cereal aisle, reaching for a box, when a familiar voice cut through the quiet buzz of the store.

“Didn’t expect to see you here.”

You froze for half a second before slowly turning.

There he was.

Joel stood a few feet away, a bottle of milk in one hand, his other tucked into the pocket of his jacket. He looked… the same. Worn flannel, jeans, hair a little messy—but his eyes were locked on you like you were the only thing in the aisle that mattered.

Your breath caught. “Joel.”

He gave a sheepish smile. “I, uh… didn’t get your number. Wasn’t sure I’d see you again.”

Your heart flipped, your fingers tightening slightly around the box in your hand. “Yeah. Same here.”

The silence that followed was thick but charged. He took a tentative step closer.

“You’ve been alright?” Joel asked, his voice low.

You nodded, offering a soft smile. “Yeah, I’ve been good. Work’s been keeping me busy.” Your voice was quiet, maybe a little too quiet, but you didn’t trust yourself not to let something more spill out if you weren’t careful. “How about you?”

“Same,” he said with a faint huff of a laugh. “Work’s been nonstop. Barely had time to think lately.”

You looked at him then, something warm tugging at your chest. “It’s really good to see you, Joel.”

His eyes softened, the corners of his mouth twitching like there was something he wanted to say but hadn’t figured out how to yet. The silence stretched between you—not uncomfortable, just filled with the weight of all that hadn’t been said.

Then he shifted slightly, like he’d made up his mind. “Wanna grab a coffee or somethin’? Catch up properly?”

Your heart kicked up at the simplicity of it. No pressure. No games. Just a chance.

You nodded, eyes meeting his. “Yeah. I’d really like that.”

He gave you a smile, one of those quiet ones that settled in slowly, warm and genuine. “You busy now? Or should we just leave it to fate again?”

You grinned, a small laugh escaping as you glanced down at your half-filled shopping basket. “The only plan I had this evening was groceries and meal prep. And honestly?” You looked up at him. “Getting coffee with you sounds a whole lot better.”

Joel chuckled, reaching for the basket in your hand without asking. “Then let’s call it fate and good timing.”

#joel miller au #joel miller x reader #joel x reader #joel miller #tlou au #tlou #the last of us

26 notes · View notes

barmaidatthegarrison · 2 days ago

Text

Green Eyes and Gunpowder (4/?)

Thomas Shelby x OC (Emily Hughes)

Summary - Sharp-tongued, steady-handed, and raised beside the Shelbys like blood, Dr. Emily Hughes weaves through their war for Birmingham with a surgeon’s precision—offering comfort, challenge, and quiet resistance, especially to the man who’s forgetting how to be anything but a weapon.

Word Count - 3,256

Warnings - Nothing that wasn't there before

A/N - We have a small bit of conflict. Also, fun fact, the Swan is a pub I go to here in Dublin quite often.

Thanks for the support <3 Would love to know what you think!

Chapter 3

She didn’t expect to make it back to Small Heath only to spend her evening warming her hands on burning portraits of the king.

Then again, to quote her father, fuck the monarchy.

“Dr. Hughes, I’m told.” It’d been a while since Grace had first seen the green-eyed woman here in the Garrison. Nearly three weeks, though she’d been in a few times with the Shelbys since. Apparently, the inspector had run into her – called her an uncouth devil.

Well, that devil took a seat at the counter and smiled at her with nothing but kindness.

“Just Emily is fine. I’ve been a bit rude not introducing myself the last few weeks. It’s Grace, right?”

The pub had just opened for the day and this early it was only the two women in the whole place – well except for Harry doing inventory in the back.

Cleaning off another glass, Grace nodded. “No problem. It’s good to meet you.”

“Tommy says you’re from Galway. I was just there.” Grace stilled for a split second before continuing. “Where in the city did you grow up?”

“Newcastle for most of my life. I moved to Dublin to work after.”

“Near University College, Galway – I was helping at the hospital.” That was fine – this part of the story was true at least. She could answer any question about Galway. “Did you want to leave?”

That stopped her for a second, putting the glass down, she turned her full attention to the pretty woman at the bar.

“I…” She met nothing but kind eyes and a gentle smile. “My father died. I couldn’t be there anymore.”

Emily’s shoulders lowered and, in a move that shocked Grace, placed her hand over Grace’s own. Her smile turned empathetic, and Grace was almost nervous by how seen she suddenly felt.

“I’m so sorry, Grace.” Her voice was soft, warm. “I know how that feels. I’m sorry you do too.”

“You lost your father?” Emily nodded.

“I was fourteen.” Her grin only fell for a moment before it was back, “It’s not a good story. He was from Limerick. A good man.” Then she tacked something on that made Grace’s eyes widen, “A good father.”

Not the words themselves, but the fact that they were said in perfect Irish.

Emily laughed at her wide eyes. “He wanted us to know it. My mum didn’t like it, but she couldn’t stop him neither.”

“My dad wanted me to know it too.” Why was she speaking Irish? She shouldn’t be speaking Irish. The IRA used Irish. “He said it was important to know our history.”

“It’s always good to know where you came from.” Emily affirmed. “Even if it’s a little removed for some of us.”

There was a silence, a comfortable one. Emily’s eyes drifted out the door and back to Grace a few times.

“Are you waiting for someone?” She asked. Of course, she was; she wasn’t here just to chat, and she hadn’t asked for a drink.

“Tommy probably. Eventually.” She shrugged. “Or Arthur. Unlikely to be John. Whichever gets my message first.”

Vague.

“Tommy also told me you worked in Dublin.”

She nodded at that; she had been feeling a little too comfortable. Falling into her made-up backstory would make her feel more in control.

“I worked in a few pubs - the Swan was my favourite. It was a good place, and the owner was good to me.” She turned back to her pile of glasses, “There was a lot of singing back home; packed to the brim most nights.” She attempted a wistful smile, but Emily didn’t meet it.

“Grace,” her voice was quiet, “You didn’t work in Dublin.”

Panic.

“Yes I–”

“Grace.” She slammed her mouth shut. “We’ve got connections over there. There are no pubs with the names you gave – we’ve checked.”

Her gaze was intense, and Grace couldn’t have felt more wrongfooted right now if she tried. Was she about to get found out? Part of her wanted to look around wildly for her gun but knew if she tried it would definitely blow her cover.

Emily wasn’t saying anything, just staring at her, waiting for her to make the next move. It was only the two of them; if this went south, she would have a chance.

“I wandered when my father died, from Cork to Limerick to Belfast, even to Tipperary at one point. I was lost; I couldn’t be there, but I also couldn’t get work with no history.” She didn’t know where this was coming from, but she had to come up with something. “I lied to Harry to get the job – I was desperate.”

Emily’s eyes watched her for a little while, before humming and looking away out the door again.

Was that it? What was happening? Was this why Emily'd called for one of the Shelbys to meet her here?

She fisted her hands into her apron and tried to look a normal level of nervous.

“Please don’t tell, Harry.” She sounded desperate because she was, just not for that reason. “I need this job.”

The doctor eventually dragged her eyes back to Grace, smiling just a little, and the barmaid felt herself relax.

“White lies…” She started, taking out a cigarette from her bag, “We all tell them. And you do a good job here.”

Grace watched the cigarette light up with a nearly overwhelming amount of relief.

“Emily! There you are!” Grace’s gaze snapped to the sudden voice basically booming from the door. A woman, no older that she was and decently pretty, dressed professionally and with a camera on a tie around her neck.

That was… not any of the Shelbys?

“I came as soon as I could! A tip about a Crown inspector – how could I resist!” The woman basically bounced up to the bar.

Grace could almost feel her ears perking up – Crown business? She looked at Emily with her eyebrows raised.

“Hello, Emily. How are you, Emily? How’s your day so far, Emily?” The doctor teased, getting a sigh and a pout in return. “I’m very well, Rebecca, so kind of you to ask.”

“Yes, yes fine. Everyone is fine. Now, that tip?”

Emily laughed and turned back to Grace, who was sure the look she was giving Emily was rife with confusion.

“White lies, Grace. We all tell them.” So, she wasn’t meeting a Shelby here. Why lie at all? “This is Rebecca Gibbons, a reporter at The Times. Rebecca, Grace Burgess.”

“Yes, lovely to meet you.” The eagerness of this woman was nearly overwhelming, but Emily took it in stride.

“Let’s go get lunch. My treat and I’ll let you know all you want, eh?”

She picked up her bag and offered Grace a nod before heading out with a cheery “see you later” as she did.

A tip? What could she have possibly found out?

“Something’s amiss with the barmaid.”

The loud atmosphere of poker night still spilled into the kitchen, despite the door closed between them. Arthur and John were really messing with each other tonight, Tommy making his own little jabs here and there, and it was almost heartwarming to see them like this again. Almost like it was before the War.

Polly had wanted a cup of tea; she hadn’t expected Emily to follow her.

“What makes you say that?”

Emily leaned on the counter next to the kettle. “I talked to her today, about the lies, about not actually having worked in Dublin. She’s a good liar, but I’m a better one. Made up some story about wandering when her father died.”

Taking a drag of her cigarette, she wasn’t looking at Polly, just staring at the wall.

“Might be nothing, the boys like her, but… I have a bad feeling.”

“I’d take your bad feelings over a man’s good one any day. They go for whoever their dicks point at without a second thought.”

Emily nodded at that. Her face was inscrutable.

“She’s got a tell when she’s lying.” A deep pull and slow exhale. “She gives too many details. When she’s telling the truth, she’s vague. Her father's dead but she isn’t a wanderer.”

Polly poured them both cups of tea, orange pekoe for her and that horrendous peppermint stuff that Emily liked. She caught the younger woman smiling when Polly must have made a face.

“Thanks, Pol.”

The two women stood for a few minutes, shoulder-to-shoulder and silent, before Polly spoke up.

“You got him to offload the guns.”

Emily nodded, “Yeah. We should have gotten at least twelve thousand for them, but there’s too much heat from the coppers for that to work safely, especially if we need this done quick. I got ten.”

She sounded… almost ashamed. It reminded Polly of a confession more than anything else.

“I worry what this family would look like if anything ever happened to you.”

That was evidently not what Emily had been expecting and her eyebrows nearly disappeared into her hairline.

“Tommy doesn’t listen to anyone, Arthur’s angrier than I’ve ever seen, John is running away from his kids, and Ada is rebelling for God knows what reason. Those boys came back from France more fractured than they’ve ever been.” She took a sip of her tea, but Emily was still staring, confused and uncertain. “But you’ve been making them better, fixing whatever hell that war did to their souls. Sometimes they’re more like who they were before. I thank God for you every day, Emily. But I shouldn’t be surprised – you’ve been a good influence on them since they were lads. That’s part of the reason Martha liked you so much.”

Emily looked away. Polly knew she was going to say something, trying to find the words, she could feel it in her heart.

“I don’t know about that.” Her voice was a whisper. Polly nearly had to strain to hear. “I just want everyone safe. And because of that I feel like I’m more of a nuisance than anything. That I’m…” Her eyes closed and she swallowed thickly. “I’m pushing too much, wearing out my goodwill. I don’t want to interfere as much as I do, I know I’m not family – I know I shouldn’t. But I can’t seem to stop pushing us down what I see as the most survivable path. Taking reins I have no business touching. I’m lucky you all have been good about it. Lucky Tommy listens sometimes.”

Sometimes the way Emily spoke made Pol’s heart ache. Never thinking she belonged anywhere, an outsider even among them, the people she saw as her family – afraid they didn’t see her the same. Afraid one day she’d be thrown away again, left behind again with not so much as a goodbye. Trying so hard to make herself useful so they’d stay. Never believing that they’d never leave her, that she was as much a child to Polly as her own were, as the Shelbys were.

The War did a number on her too and a part of Pol burned with shame at forgetting that.

Her hands were shaking. Polly had seen it happen dozens of times when she was a girl. Her mother would scream horrible things at her, and she would stand there placidly, the only sign of distress the trembling of childish fingers.

Pol turned to her, reaching her hand out to touch the pendant on the chain around the younger woman’s neck.

“I gave you this,” her fingers tapped on the face of the Black Madonna, “because you are family.” She tilted her head back towards the kitchen door. “Those boys are playing poker in the other room because you are family. Because you make this family better. Don’t you disrespect us by claiming otherwise.”

Emily’s eyes were wide as she stared at Polly, but the older woman did not flinch or back away.

“I…” She wrapped her hands more tightly around her cup of peppermint, finally looking away. Nodding she took a sip. “Promise me you’ll warn me if that ever changes, eh?”

Pol rolled her eyes and turned back to the door. No need to dignify that with a response.

Seven weeks late. Emily closed her eyes and breathed. Fucking hell, Ada.

“The iron tablets I got you didn’t help did they.” It didn’t sound like a question, but Ada still shook her head and looked away.

Emily looked to Pol who was watching her expectantly. Putting her cup down, Emily stood and took Ada by the hand.

“Come on, Addy,” her voice was very gentle. “Let’s take a look.”

Twenty minutes and two examinations later (she had to be certain), the three women had reconvened to the sitting room. Ada was defending herself to Pol, saying that she loved him, saying that she wanted to keep the baby. Distantly, Emily was considering punching Freddie in the face. Why God had she agreed to keep their secret?

Pol was… understandably a little disappointed, which always sent an instinctive pang through the doctor even when it wasn’t directed at her.

Safe. That’s what she’d just told Polly she wanted: everybody to be safe. Childbearing wasn’t safe, especially at such a young age. Or alone. Did Freddie want to be a father? Was he even coming back? She knew he had disappeared after the raids; Ada had lamented to her about it. She’d patted Ada’s back and told her it was going to be okay, but it wasn’t. It wasn’t okay because Ada was with his fucking child–

“Em, please, you have to be on my side!”

Oh, she had tuned out for too long. Both gazes were on her now.

She closed her eyes and sighed. Ada’s eyes widened when she stood up, tracking her with no small amount of hope as she made her way to stand in front of the woman that she considered a little sister.

Crouching in front of the young – far too young for this – girl, she took both her hands. She was silent for a few moments, holding her gaze heavily, letting herself see the love and fear and desperation Ada was trying so hard to deal with in that moment.

“I’m your doctor.” She said finally. “No matter what you choose – to keep it or to get rid of it, I’m the one taking care of you, understand me? I’m the one who will end the pregnancy or deliver it.”

There was intensity in her voice, her eyes boring into Ada, making sure she understood that this was something she was not going to take ‘no’ as an answer for. Nonetheless, Ada nodded, a few tears welling up in her eyes that the only Shelby daughter blinked away just as quickly.

“Good.”

Of course she was the one relegated to telling Tommy. Of fucking course. Ada refused to do it herself and Polly said he would take it best from her. What she wanted wasn’t a fucking concern apparently.

It was at the stables where she found him. She didn’t want to do it at the house, too many wandering eyes and ears. He was petting the new horse, the lovely white one from the Lees that they hadn’t named yet, mumbling gently to it. At peace, that’s how he looked. From the door, if she squinted, it could be 1913 again.

“Tommy.”

He turned back to look at her with a smile, which fell when he saw the grave expression on her face.

“What is it? What’s happened?” He took a few steps away from the horse, and she came further in. Looking around, no one else was about. It was so much quieter than the heart of Birmingham ever had any right to be.

“Ada’s pregnant.”

She watched the last glimmers of joy fade from his eyes, replaced by horror and anger. Eyes flickering to her and the door, he was torn between asking her more information and going to find Ada himself.

“Do you know who?” She nodded. “Tell me.”

“Freddie.” And now was the time to admit her role, she knew, and so she did. “They’ve been sneaking off to seeing each other for months.”

His anger was a wild thing. If it had to go somewhere, she preferred it was to her rather than to Ada. The girl didn’t need that right now – not with the fear and hurt she was feeling already.

“How fucking long have you known, eh?”

“A couple of months, ever since I came back from Galway.” Betrayal, that was the look on his face. Hurt and betrayal. “She asked me not to tell anyone, Tommy. I–”

“She’s my fucking sister!” He was yelling now. Yelling was nothing new to her, she just moved her hands behind her back to hide the trembling – she knew it would start soon. “My sister! My family! Not fucking yours! And you didn’t tell me that she was fucking Freddie Thorne?”

Digging her fingernails into her arms was always effective at curbing her body’s responses. Yes, she could handle yelling, had been screamed at more times than she could count, but it was never from Tommy. And it ached almost as much as the words themselves.

Ada wasn’t her sister, this wasn’t her family, he was right, but it hurt to hear herself so painfully excluded from the family so soon after voicing her own doubts to Polly. But it was true – no matter what Polly told her, no matter what people like Inspector Campbell implied – she was an outsider that they welcomed into their home. That didn’t make her family.

“They’re in love, Tommy.” She couldn’t help but try and stick up for Ada here. It would make him angrier, but she had to do it. Ada was her friend, and she loved her. “They want to get married.”

“I don’t want to hear it. You should have fucking told me. What else are you fucking keeping from me, eh?” He looked like he wanted to hit something. “Make any more shitty deals on behalf of my fucking family you want to tell me about? Are you trying to ruin us? After everything we’ve fucking done for you?”

Her mouth dropped open, ice water filling her veins. He thought she… that she would ever… that she could ever betray the people she loved more than anything. The people who had saved her more than she could ever repay. If she didn’t know any better, she’d think the ache in her heart was it saying it was about to literally break in half. Swallowing heavily, she took a step backwards away from him and his anger.

“I’ll call Patrick tomorrow morning and pull out of our – sorry, your – end of the bargain. You’re right: I shouldn’t make deals on behalf of your family. You have my word that it won’t happen again.” She said, trying desperately to keep the quiver from her own voice with decent success. But she did keep her gaze on the ground, not able to look into cold eyes she was used to being filled with warmth.

“I’m sorry I keep disappointing you. Ada’s gone to the pictures if you want to talk to her.”

With that she turned and walked away, the blood rushing in her ears and the sound of her own heartbeat was all she could hear. From the warmth, she was sure her face was flushed all levels of red. Still, she didn’t run, but it was a near thing. She needed to be anywhere else. Desperately.

---

Tagged: @weaponizedvirtue

#Thomas Shelby x OC #tommy shelby x oc #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby #peaky blinders #cillian murphy #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby x imagine #tommy shelby imagine #Green Eyes and Gunpowder #JJ writes

27 notes · View notes

444sweetmourninglamb · 2 days ago

Text

is it wrong?

˚𝜗𝜚˚notes ➵joel miller x reader, dbf!joel, f!reader, mutual pining, age gap, no outbreak au, slowburn

Texan Junes were always sweltering—not as bad as August, but bad. Your dad was hosting a barbecue to celebrate your graduation and arrival home. You were thankful for the gesture, appreciative that he thought of you. You knew he must’ve been lonely without you in the house, but at least he had Joel, whom you haven’t thought about for a while. It’s been a while since you’ve seen him; granted, you’ve only been home for two days.

Joel had always been a part of your life. Ever since you moved to Austin, he and your dad have become good friends. It helped that he also had a daughter, who, although being a couple of years younger than you, still got along with you.

Returning home for the summer was bittersweet. All your friends– except Sam– left the state for college, and their parents moved, leaving no reason for them to return to Texas. Sarah still lives across the street, so hopefully you could hang out with her this summer.

You finished getting ready, adding finishing touches to your makeup and making sure your outfit was appropriate for both the weather and the event. Your denim shorts were a bit revealing, but it was like 100° outside, so did it really matter?

You finally decide to leave your room, making your way down the stairs and out to the backyard. A smoky scent hit your nostrils, one that you always loved. The scent never failed to remind you of a particular night you spent over at the Millers, one where Joel barbequed for you and Sarah after you spent the entire day in their pool. Your heart ached at the memory, thinking back to when you were innocent and didn’t have the stress of adulthood looming over you.

You scan the backyard, noticing how everyone was over 40 with beer bellies and button-down t-shirts, suddenly feeling out of place in your tube top and denim shorts. The grad party thrown for you started to look a lot more like a get-together for your dad and his friends. It’s not like any of your friends could’ve gone anyway, but you highly doubt any of these people even cared that you graduated–only Diane.

Diane was Sam's mother. You like her more than Sam, she was warmer, kinder, and just had a way of making everybody feel good. It didn’t take long for her to find you and begin talking.

“Hey, honey! Oh, look how beautiful…” She faux-pouted before pulling you in for a hug, your nostrils immediately filling with the scent of cheap perfume and cigarettes. “I swear you just get more beautiful every time I see you!” She coos, pulling back to cup your face with her slender hands, the rim of the beer she was holding feeling cool against your skin in contrast to the outdoor heat. Her hands lingered there for a bit before reluctantly removing them.

You awkwardly chuckle, not used to being fussed over anymore, “Aw, thank you, Diane.” You give her a sweet smile.

“Sam was just here, swear to God– he probably snuck off for a smoke or somethin’, you know how he is.” She brushed it off with a laugh. “Oh well, ‘m sure he's fine, you know how he is.” Her smile faltered slightly. “He doesn’t talk to me much lately.” She took a sip of her beer before speaking again.

“Oh! Is Joel comin’?” She asked, raising her eyebrows and attempting a flirty look, a faux-sultry smirk plastered onto her frosty pink lips. It’s a joke, maybe. But when she checks her reflection through the beer can and adjusts her bleached-blonde hair, it doesn’t feel like one.

“Um, yeah…I’m sure he's coming. Why, you got your eyes on him?” You reply with a teasing smile, eyeing the smudged eyeliner along her eyes, as if she tried to reapply it in the heat. Diane’s makeup was always smudged or unblended or something, but before you get the chance to tell her, your eyes are drawn elsewhere. Diane starts talking, but her voice is drowned out by the sound of your heart racing.

Joel Miller was standing by the gate, looking much sexier than you remember. His muscular arms straining the fabric of his denim button-up, the sun hitting his tanned face perfectly, enhancing his ruggedly handsome features.

This was so wrong…he's your dad’s best friend. You had seen him numerous times before, so why was it different now? Your pulse quickened and your breath hitched at the sight, and if possible, you began to feel even hotter. Everything seemed to slow as he began approaching you.

“Joel!” Diane looked at him with a smile, her pale pink lipstick on her teeth. You hope he doesn’t notice, for her sake. He gave her a tight-lipped smile in return before turning his attention to you.

“Hey, kid.” Kid. You hate that he called you that. 22 isn’t a kid. You were old enough to drink, old enough to do pretty much anything. But he called you kid. You just had an inner crisis about how sexy he is, and he makes his thoughts about you clear with one simple word. Kid.

“Hey.” You hated the way his smoky voice caused your stomach to flutter. You hope he can’t read the look on your face. The ‘I’m totally fucked’ face. The way the sun was hitting his face only made your heart beat faster. How could you just now realize how good-looking he is? All those times you’d hung out with his daughter, the times he's been over for dinner, driven you to practices, taught you how to fucking drive, and you just now notice how insanely handsome he is? How?

Diane placed a slender hand on your arm, her long acrylics gently poking your skin. “I’ll be right back, puddin’, I’m gonna go find my boy.” She shifted on her heels, as if waiting to be asked to stay. When no one said anything, she turned and walked off, leaving you and Joel alone. You shifted your gaze back to Joel, sucking in a shaky breath at the proximity. Never did you think you’d feel so…nervous…around him.

“Got any beer? Or’d she bring her own?” Joel asked with his sultry southern drawl that began messing with your head.

“Oh, yeah.” You turned and walked towards the cooler, taking a steady deep breath to calm yourself.

“So…done with school, huh?” He asked, trailing behind you.

“Yep. Finally…” He gave a small smile to your response.

“Don’t like school? Thought you were a good girl.” He grumbled with that velvety southern drawl. You felt a warm flush creep up your neck and settle on your cheeks, your lower abdomen tightening with arousal at his words. Fuck– no. This is wrong. This is Joel.

“T’s just stressful, s’all.” You murmur back, bending down to get two beers, hoping he chalks the flush on your face up to being summer heat. You hand him a beer, his intense, dark eyes staring at your face before dropping down to your lips, then finally, the beer you got for yourself. His eyes remained there for a moment.

“What?” You ask quietly, a confused look plastered onto your face. You felt your mouth start to dry up due to the intensity of his gaze.

“Nothin’...Just weird seein’ you drink.” He grumbles, untwisting the cap of his beer.

“Well, I’m 22, sooo…” You reply, almost like you’re trying to remind him you're an adult. You mirror his action, untwisting the cap of your own beer.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Y’r a big girl, can drink n whatnot.” He took a sip of his beer. “Where’s your dad? Haven’t seen’m yet.” You felt relieved as he changed the subject to something other than your age.

“Uh, maybe the kitchen? I’ll go check.” You hand him your beer before going in to find your dad.

“Dad, Joel's looking for you.” You say, leaning against the kitchen doorframe. You were finally able to catch your breath with the added space between you and Joel.

“Oh, he’s here? Tell him I’ll be right out. Just gotta finish seasoning these burgers…” His voice trailed off as he continued sprinkling seasoning onto the patties.

“Alright.” You say, turning back outside to find Joel. You see him with Diane, she’s playing with her bleached hair that desperately needs a tone, and batting her fake lashes at him. You love Diane, so why does your stomach churn with uneasiness at the sight of her with Joel?

While you’re walking over to him, you’re stopped by Sam. “Hey, wait.” You turn to meet his gaze, a tinge of disappointment striking your chest.

“Hey, I haven’t seen you yet.” You wrap your arms around him, he stiffens before reluctantly hugging you back.

“Missed you..” He said quietly, making your heart warm. Sam wasn’t one for affection or feelings. He and Diane were so different, you wondered how they were even related.

“Aw, I missed you.” You reply with a smile before pulling back, feeling eyes burning into you. You look around briefly before you see Joel staring right at the two of you. “Uh…how have you been?” You ask, trying to shake the feeling of Joel’s eyes.

“Good, good…I mean…Yeah, good.” He started fidgeting with his lip piercing. He was almost always fidgeting with one of his piercings.

“What about your mom? How’s she?” You ask, genuinely concerned about her well-being. You knew that if you were to ask her directly, she’d mask it with her usual cheery smile.

“Eh, same as always.” He mutters, pausing before speaking again. “I’m gonna get another beer, you want one?”

“Oh, no thanks, uh…Joel actually has mine.” You say quietly, avoiding eye contact with him.

“Oh. Well, okay…” He replied quietly before stealing a glance at Joel. The silence stretched for a moment before Sam headed over to the cooler. You began walking towards Joel, who was still watching you.

“My dad said he’ll be right out.” You said, grabbing your beer back. “Ya know, we could go in n see him.” You added, definitely not because you wanted him away from Diane and alone with you.

“Yeah, that’d be great.” He walked with you towards the house, your shoulder accidentally bumping into his arm as you walked side-by-side.

“So…Diane…” You said, looking up at him with a smug look, secretly hoping she didn’t mean anything to him.

“What’re you implyin’?” He replied lowly, his eyebrows knitting.

“Oh, nothing…” You hoped it was nothing. But why? Sarah told you she worries about how lonely he is. Diane would be good for him, right? But you could be good for him too…What? What's wrong with you? This is your dad’s best friend. Your dad’s best friend, who also happens to be over 30 years older than you.

He’s silent for a beat. “So…Sam…” He said gruffly.

“Sam?” You look up at him, eyebrows knitting.

“Yeah. He your boyfriend? Didn’t think you’d be into that whole...Goth thing.”

“It’s punk, not goth. And he definitely is not my boyfriend. We’re just friends. He’s got this Sid Vicious thing going on, and I really don’t wanna be his Nancy.” You grimaced, thinking about how toxic their relationship was.

When you two entered the kitchen, your dad was nowhere to be found. “I swear, he was in here before.” You murmur, your pulse quickening at the sudden realization that you and Joel were alone together.

“‘S fine, wanted t’get away from’er anyway.” He grumbled.

“What? Diane is awesome.” You suddenly felt guilty for stealing Joel away from her, and even more guilty as he revealed his true feelings about her.

“Not when she's ramblin bout you marryin’er son.” He took a long sip of his beer. “You got a boyfriend at school?” He asked.

Your breath hitched “No-What-Why do you care?” You ask, taking a sip of your own beer to mask the way his question heightened your nerves.

“Don’t. Just…makin'’ conversation, I guess.” He replied, leaning back against the kitchen counter. Your dad came into the room from the bathroom.

“Oh. Hey, you two.” He said, placing his hands on his hips. Joel’s eyes quickly shifted off of you and onto your dad.

“Hope you washed your hands b’fore you start touching our food…” You tease, earning a slight huff of laughter from Joel. You felt a sense of pride wash over you, It’s rare for Joel to laugh.

“Oh- be quiet. Of course I did.” He quipped back, wiping his hands on his pants.

“I’ll leave you two alone.” You turn to head back outside before realizing you hadn’t seen Sarah yet. You turn back towards Joel and decide to ask him. “Wait- Where’s Sarah?” Your stomach fluttered when you met his gaze.

“She’s away for all of June. She’ll be back in a week’r so.” He took a final sip of his beer, his dark chocolate eyes piercing into you.

“Oh…Alright.” Now you leave, hoping your dad didn’t clock the way your face heated under Joel’s gaze. Hoping Joel himself didn’t notice.

Sarah being gone means you’ll likely be seeing much more of Joel. He’ll have more free time, which will lead to him hanging out with your dad more. Your stomach fluttered at the thought, whether it was with arousal or anxiousness was beyond you.

this is also on ao3 here !!

this will be a series, i hope to upload chapter 2 very soon <3

52 notes · View notes