#where’d all the kids go

[sb25p]

I swear logging back onto my ancient Facebook account that I abandoned back in early 2020 has become a graveyard. There’s just photos from a past I don’t even recognise anymore and people I once knew as kids who now have their own kids and marriages. I’m over here single, childless and still feeling like a kid going to Arctic Monkeys concerts to preserve the nostalgia of 2013.

[estrellami-1]

Steddie Week 2024

July 6th Prompt: Dizzy

Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 7

@steddie-week

Steve stands up, and that’s where it all goes wrong.

His intent was to grab more drinks from the fridge, but when he stood, he blinked a few times. “Whoa,” he murmurs.

“Steve?” Robin asks. She sounds like she’s at the end of a long tunnel.

“Steve?” Eddie asks. He sounds closer, but not as close as he should.

“‘M fine,” he says, “jus’ dizzy.”

Then he’s waking up in the hospital. “What,” he asks, then doesn’t complete the thought because Robin and Eddie are both standing over him, one on each side, holding each of his hands, and he’d feel so much love if he could feel anything besides general panic because- “I can’t hear you,” he says, breathing picking up. “I can’t- please, I- I need-”

Eddie shuts up, staring at him with wide eyes, and after a second of hesitation, places Steve’s hand, palm down, on his chest. He takes deep, purposeful breaths, and Steve can feel his hand moving, feel the breaths, feel his heartbeat-

He takes a breath. Another. Another. By that time, Nancy had gotten a doctor.

Later, he’ll learn this is something they’d been watching for, but couldn’t be sure of until he woke up. Later, he’ll learn that Eddie lays awake at night, sometimes, hearing the sound Robin makes.

All he knows right now is how to keep breathing, how to keep holding Robin’s hand, how to believe he’ll be okay, because he has to.

He has to.

He stays with Eddie upon his release, because they’re together most days anyways, and it’s a certain kind of torture on Steve’s heart because Eddie’s started carrying around a notebook and a pen just to write to Steve whatever he was gonna say, and Steve doesn’t think he could love another person more than he did, but here’s the proof, apparently.

They’re sharing a bed, because Wayne had previously called their couch “older than Jesus,” and Steve lasted for all of an hour on it before slipping into Eddie’s room.

The good thing about sharing a room is it helps curb the nightmares for a time.

Eventually, though, they come back with a vengeance.

Steve’s laying in bed, like he does every night, when he rolls over to face Eddie. “Eddie?” He asks. Eddie’s always last to sleep, so Steve’s not hesitant about asking, except Eddie doesn’t answer.

“Eddie?” He asks again, jostling Eddie’s shoulder a bit.

Suddenly he shoots up in the air, and Steve bites back a yell.

Suddenly there’s a voice that sounds like it’s coming from everywhere and nowhere, reverberating off the corners of the room, echoing louder and louder. You took everything from me. Eddie’s arms snap, and Steve yells, scrambles up, music, except what’s his favorite song—that puppet one, metal, come on brain, think—but there’s nothing here but country, bluegrass, stuff Wayne likes, and Steve turns to watch the blood drain from Eddie’s face as another gristly crunch echoes, louder than anything so far. So I’ll take everything from you!

Something reaches out for him, grabs his shoulder, and he yells, twists around, pushes away, hard enough he falls on the ground. He opens his eyes to see Eddie on his bed, Steve sitting just off it, eyes wide and hand reaching to help, stalled halfway. Illuminated by the lamp, too, which wasn’t on half a second ago.

Steve blinks at him, looks at the room. No floating Eddie in the middle of it.

“Dream?” He asks. Eddie nods. He stifles the sob and practically launches himself onto the bed, into Eddie’s arms, lets himself shake apart because he can.

Eventually he feels reverberating in Eddie’s chest that he knows means words, means speaking, so he looks up at Eddie, who’s looking at the door.

He turns to look, too, and sees Wayne. “S-sorry,” he tries, still sniffling.

Wayne shakes his head at him, walks into the room, sits on the edge of the bed. Offers his arms out in a hug.

Steve thought he was done crying. Trust Wayne to prove him wrong, because he’s tearing up all over again as he leans into Wayne.

His new position means he can see Eddie, who points at him, makes a talking motion with his hand, then points at himself and Wayne. Steve frowns. “You… want me to tell you?”

Eddie points at Steve again, insistently, and Steve understands: your choice.

“I can,” he agrees. “We were in bed and I was tryin’a talk to you, but you didn’t answer, and I kept trying to get your attention, but suddenly you- you were up in the air, and your arms and legs broke, and a voice—it was Vecna, I didn’t recognize it in the dream—said I’d taken everything from him so he was gonna take everything from me. And I was trying to find music, but I couldn’t remember the name of your favorite song, and the only stuff in here was Wayne’s stuff, country and bluegrass and stuff like that, and…” he sighs out a broken sob. “I couldn’t save you.”

Eddie reaches for his hand, but suddenly that’s not enough, he needs to be able to feel his heartbeat, have his breathing move Steve’s hand, so he tips over into Eddie again, gets his hand on his chest and his face in the side of his neck.

Eddie says something, but before Steve can move Wayne’s got a comforting hand on his back. He removes it after a minute, and Steve can feel the shift in the bed of him getting up, but before he can mourn the loss, Eddie’s got his arms wrapped around Steve as he carefully lowers them back down. He rubs a hand up and down Steve’s spine, slips the other into Steve’s hair.

Steve falls asleep like that.

He wakes up in almost the same position. He tries to apologize, but Eddie waves him off, hands him some clothes and points to the bathroom before pointing to himself and miming cooking.

Steve’s heart clenches at the thought. “Okay,” he whispers.

Robin comes over later, and they sit on the front steps as he recounts what had happened. “He’s just so sweet,” he sighs. “And I’m an idiot who’s letting my heart get involved.”

Robin wraps an arm around his shoulders and kisses his temple. It doesn’t help as much as he’d hoped it would, but he appreciates the gesture anyways.

Later she leaves, and Eddie pulls out his dedicated Steve Notebook.

I’ve got a friend in Indy who knows sign language. I could give her a call, if you want? He writes, and again Steve’s all but overcome with love for this man.

Instead of anything he wants to do, he just nods. Eddie grins and hops up to use the phone.

He’s back in a couple of minutes, collapses onto the couch with the notebook before furiously scribbling and handing it to Steve.

I spoke to my friend. She says sorry and it sucks, first of all. Steve snorts and nods. She’s willing to talk to you, get you started, maybe even get you some books. Does tomorrow work?

Steve gapes up at Eddie. “Tomorrow?”

Eddie nods and grins, then points at Steve in a gesture Steve knows has come to mean you decide.

“That would be great,” he says. “Seriously, I- thank you, Eddie.”

Eddie waves him off, but Steve can see the happy little blush on his cheeks.

They head out the next day. It’s probably twenty minutes into the drive, and even with Eddie sitting next to him in the driver’s seat, it feels lonely. He never realized how much he’d miss the sound of tires on asphalt. He wasn’t ever truly into music, like Eddie is, but he misses the radio. He misses the wind rushing past, the silence that’s possible to share when both people can hear-

He doesn’t realize he’s crying until Eddie’s pulled over, a hand on his cheek and a concerned expression on his face. “Sorry,” he tries. Eddie shakes his head, presses his palm more firmly to Steve’s cheek. “Fuck,” he mutters. “‘S stupid. Just… felt alone. I dunno. There’s, like, a million little things you hear every day that you don’t think about, like the way your hands tap the steering wheel when you turn, or the way your clothes shift and rub against each other, and it’s all silent now, and there’s not even music, and-” he takes a deep, shaky breath. Lets it out as evenly as he can. “I just… felt really alone all of a sudden.”

Eddie brushes his thumb along Steve’s cheekbone as he thinks. Suddenly, he grins and moves his hand, shoving a tape into the deck and cranking the sound. He demonstratively puts his hand on the door. Steve laughs and does the same, gasping when he feels the vibrations of the song move through him. He can’t tell notes, but it’s something, and then Eddie carefully reaches for his hand, keeps his grip relaxed until Steve smiles at him and tightens his own fingers around Eddie’s. “Thank you,” he whispers.

Eddie smiles, nods, and gets back on the road.

They arrive at his friend’s apartment in no time, and Steve would be jealous at the length of the hug if Eddie didn’t immediately step back to grab Steve’s hand again. Based on his hand motions, he’s introducing Steve.

She asks Eddie something, and he turns bright red, pulling a strand of hair across his face as he glances at Steve before looking back at her and answering.

She invites them in, scribbles on a little chalkboard, and hands it to Steve with a smile. Hi, Steve! My name is Nicole. It’s nice to meet you.

He grins up at her. “It’s nice to meet you, too.”

She takes the chalkboard back, scribbles something else. Eddie tells me you recently lost your hearing. Do you mind me asking about that?

“Not at all,” Steve says, then frowns, somehow just now realizing he doesn’t know the full extent of what happened. “Honestly, all I know is I stood up and got really dizzy, and then I was waking up in the hospital.” He shrugs. “I’ve had a couple of pretty bad concussions, and I guess whatever made me pass out also just… took my hearing.” He shrugs.

Eddie shakes his head, grabs for the chalkboard. Almost. He bites his lip. You passed out, and I wasn’t fast enough. You hit your head on the floor. He looks away, takes a deep breath. I’m sorry.

“That is not your fault, Eds,” Steve tells him firmly. Eddie won’t look him in the eyes, so Steve grabs his chin. “Hey, look at me. Not your fault. I don’t blame you. Okay?”

Eddie shrugs, pointing to himself with a self-deprecating smile, and Steve knows what he’s trying to say. I do.

“Well I don’t,” Steve says. “But if- if you need to hear it. I forgive you, okay?”

Eddie nods, eyes big and wet, and Steve pulls him into a hug.

Eddie suddenly laughs, pulling away to wipe his eyes before saying something to Nicole.

Right. They’re not alone. “Sorry,” he tells her, but she waves him off, handing over the chalkboard again. I think we’ll start on the alphabet today. That way you can at least finger spell what you need, even if it’s slow.

“Sounds good,” he says, and she nods, talking the chalkboard to write the alphabet.

Slowly but surely, she teaches Steve and Eddie the alphabet. They get a little tripped up on some of the letters, most noticeably p and q, until Nicole takes pity on them and makes a p. She uses her other hand to draw a line down both her extended fingers, then tracing her own legs. She taps her thumb, peeking out between the two, and with a mischievous grin, points between Steve and Eddie’s legs.

They share a look and burst out laughing, but they don’t forget those letters again.

By the end of the day, they’ve gotten through the alphabet with enough regularity that Nicole feels they can practice on each other.

Steve pauses before they leave. T-h-a-n-k, then a pause, then y-o-u.

Nicole smiles, presses her fingertips to her lips, then brings her hand down to chest height, palm up. She does the motion again, and Steve copies her, grinning when she nods excitedly.

“Thank you,” he signs and says, grinning even wider when she pulls him into a quick hug before waving at him and Eddie.

They wave back and pile into the van, Steve’s hand in Eddie’s before Steve can practically blink. He smiles, unbearably fond, and squeezes to get his attention before signing, “Thank you.”

Eddie just smiles back, throws the van into reverse, and starts home. 

They practice more while they make dinner, throwing words like spatula and stir and chop around, and Steve didn’t realize learning could be this fun.

He’s watching Eddie stir the broth, hips moving in a little dance to a song only Eddie knows, and his heart is so full, he has to say something before his heart bursts. “I’m gonna say something that’s gonna sound incredibly sappy,” he says. “But just… please just listen until the end? And try not to tease me too much.”

Eddie just smiles, grabs his hand and squeezes, and Steve takes a breath before starting.

“I’m glad it’s you. I’m glad you were there that day, I’m glad you were there when I woke up at the hospital, I’m glad you were there when I realized going home meant being completely alone. I’m glad you made a complete fool of yourself in the hospital lobby, doing charades to let me know I could stay here.” He takes a breath. “I’m glad you have Nicole, because it lets me talk with you easier. I’m glad you never once let me feel like I’m alone, or like I’m going through this alone. I’m glad you’re learning with me. I’m glad you’re making this fun. I didn’t know learning could be fun, but it is with you, and I-” he takes a breath, swallows the three words that want to come out. “I’m glad it’s you,” Steve whispers, “here, at the end of all things.”

He doesn’t realize he’s crying until Eddie’s hands are cradling his cheeks, wiping away tears. Eddie’s just as teary-eyed, though, and he pulls away, looking for the notebook. Please don’t punch me.

Steve looks up, brows furrowed, to watch Eddie spell something. I l-o-v-

That’s as far as he gets before Steve gasps, understanding, or hoping he understands, and pulls Eddie into a kiss.

He pulls back almost immediately to check that’s correct, that that is what Eddie was trying to say, when Eddie pulls him back in, dinner be damned, crowding him in against the counter and doing his best to lick into Steve’s mouth.

Steve lets him, pulling away for a sharp inhale before diving right back in, fingers tight in Eddie’s hair and the back of his shirt, and there’s a sudden vibration that he just knows means Eddie moans, and suddenly he’s dizzy again, but this time he welcomes it, because this time he’s not passing out; this time, he’s dizzy because he’s drunk on love.

[tsukiida]

The way something as simple as CHANGING MY THEME made me so excited. Wth… is that my blog looking so attractive? 🤩😭 settling on the default one though because it’s so low maintenance. 🫶✨

[wonderjanga]

Marvel Being Destructive

Marvel’s destructive. It’s not even on purpose too. It just happens. He can’t control it. For the most part, that is. Like, he’ll get startled and pull a Castiel from that one episode of Supernatural.

Marvel: *trying to steal some food for Billy*

Flash: “Cap, buddy!”

Marvel: *startles and the lightbulb above them just bursts*

*loud silence*

Flash: “Cap, whose leftovers are those?”

Marvel: *slowly turns around to look at Flash, sure enough, Marvel’s holding a container or Tupperware, with a sticky note that said GL* “Uh… mine?”

Flash: “I can see that they’re Hal’s.”

Marvel: *takes off the sticky note and crumples it in his hand. Then proceeds to fry it with lightning* “What’re you talking about?”

Flash: *a little speechless*

Marvel: “Right… So I’m gonna go. See you, Flash.” *little wave as he walks off*

Billy felt really bad about it, but the kid needed it more than Hal at the moment. Probably. Look, he was running low on money at the moment and hadn’t eaten in a couple days. The hunger pangs were getting to him. He did end up making a bunch of food for Hal in an attempt to apologize.

GL: “Woah, what’s all this?”

Marvel: *in full lightning bolt apron* “Uh… Remember how you were complaining last week about how someone stole your food?”

GL: “Yeah?”

Marvel: “Right, well that was me.”

GL: *dramatic gasp* “I vented to you about that! And you just took it like you were innocent?!”

Marvel: “I know, I know, and I’m sorry. Just eat all the food I made for you. Please?”

GL: *looks to the freaking feast Marvel made for him* “Yeah, okay. I forgive you.” *starts chowing down* “By the way, why’d you steal my foot anyways? I thought you didn’t need to eat.”

Marvel: “I just really needed it at the time.”

GL: “Why?”

Marvel: “Just eat the food, Hal.”

Then, there’s the fact that Billy sometimes forgets he isn’t as small as he usually is. Like, he’s gotten used to it. After all, he’s been Cap for almost four years now. He now unconsciously bends down when entering and exiting through doors due to the fact he’s cracked his head on more doorframes than he can count. This even bled over to Billy who’s only about 5’4 and definitely doesn’t need to do it. But, every now and then as Cap, he’ll slip up and forget he isn’t that little scrawny short kiddo.

JL: *all having a meeting* Marvel: *drops something under the table and leans down the pick it it up*

GA: *immediately grabs his mug of coffee and scoots back from the table*

Other JL members: *watch in confusion as GA scoots back but then watch in slow motion at Marvel tries to get back to his chair and stands up to early. The table slowly starts tilting up and all of their stuff slides to the floor. Marvel then gets out from under the table and the table falls back to the floor with a loud bang*

Marvel: *confused by the loud bang and looks back* “Where’d all your guys’ stuff go?”

GA: *scoots back to table and puts his mug back down* “No idea, bud.”

The reason Green Arrow knew to take his stuff and scoot back is that one time when he got lunch with Cap, he watched in real time as his burger and soda slid off the table when the big man went down to grab a fork he dropped.

Then, there’s the super duper ultra rare times he forgets his own strength. Like, once a year, he’ll break something or someone and then end up having to apologize a lot.

Batman: *shows Marvel an explosive batarang* “These are extremely delicate. If they’re chipped or thrown at someone, they’ll explo-”

Marvel: *reaches over to touch it and accidentally snaps a piece of it off*

*silence*

*beeping noise starts*

Marvel: *panics and breaks the rest of it and shoves it in his mouth, basically eating the explosion, Superman style*

Batman: *stares for a solid minute* “I could’ve turned it off, Captain.”

Marvel: *coughs up smoke looking embarrassed* “Sorry, Mister Batman Sir.”

Batman: *stares for another solid minute* “Can we talk about how your first instinct was to eat it?”

Marvel: “I’d rather not.”

Batman: “I really think we should.”

[ellecdc]

Hey gorg!!!

I saw the post about wanting pregnant reader/ dad marauders prompts and I literally ran here.

I’ve got two ideas, so whichever gives you the most inspiration/ whatever you like best 😂

1- pregnant!reader who just hits her limit for the day- overwhelmed and overstimulated with everything to the point she jsut wants to sit and cry- all because of something silly

Or!!

2- reader on their first day away from baby with the girls- leaving dad!marauders to it, coming back to a baby who’s very excited to be free from the chaos of the boys.

Lots of love!!

-🥟

eeeeeeeek I went with #2!!! thank you my love <3

dad!marauders x mum!reader who saves their daughter from the boys' tyranny [522 words]

CW: kid fic, fem!reader, you have a daughter but I avoided assigning her a name (let me know how ya'll prefer that: do you want me to name the kid? or do you want me to leave it ambiguous? I feel like it would probably read easier/more naturally with an assigned name, but I understand if you like making that up yourself)

“Oh thank gods you’re home.” Sirius pushed out all in one breath as he hastily stood from the couch with your daughter in hand. 

You clicked the door shut behind you as you took your shoes off, furrowing your brows at a frazzled looking Sirius and an equally frazzled looking baby in his arms. 

“You have to help us.” He begged quickly. “They’re driving us mad.”

“What?” You laughed carefully, though you had to admit that your child had a nearly identical pout on her lips as her papa, and you were quite sure babies her age didn’t have the ability to conspire. 

Though, you were sure if any baby could conspire, it would be a baby Marauder. 

“They haven’t stopped all day.” Sirius enunciated, whispering at you and looking over his shoulder as if some invisible threat was going to attack at any given moment. “Jamie got up this morning on a warpath; first we went on a family walk to feed the ducks some corn. Fine, I’ll let it slide. We no sooner got home, and Moony set up the sandbox in the yard. Great. But then, James insisted we go to the park! Which - okay, that was fun, because I got to run around as Padfoot. But then after a mere 20 minute nap, Remus had us out at the stream catching and releasing frogs!”

You awed in sympathy as you brushed some fine hair away from your baby girl’s forehead who was using her two pudgy hands to rub at her eyes.

“You tired, lovie?” You asked the child, but they both whined a yes in response. 

“Okay.” You murmured as you accepted the sleepy child’s grabby hands, only for her to immediately rest her head on your shoulder and melt into your embrace.

“Pads? Where’d you guys run off to?” James called from the other room, and Sirius’ paled. “We’ve got the water table set up.”

“Oh gods,” Sirius whimpered, “they’re coming.”

“Sirius,” you started to chide, but he simply turned and started pushing you towards the hall that led to the bedrooms.

“Go, save yourselves. I’ll hold them off.” He whispered theatrically.

“Sirius!” You squealed, laughing as he pressed a kiss to the side of your head - taking a deep breath as if he was trying to memorise your scent like he may never get the chance to do it again - and pat at your hip. 

“Make sure our baby girl grows up knowing the sacrifices her brave, brave papa made for her.” He offered solemnly, walking backwards as he held your gaze. “Go! Nap! Rest! Waste the day away in ways many of us only dream!” 

You giggled at him as he disappeared around the corner, hearing Remus murmur “what the hell was all that about?” only to hear a grunt, a chuckle, and a theatric “I won’t let you tyrannise our sweet girls any longer!”

“What do you say, sweetheart? Time for a nap?” You murmured as you made your way towards your bedroom; a nap did sound appealing, now that you thought about it. 

An answer never came, however; she was already fast asleep.

[skysdelusions]

Needy girl.

Summary: You wanted to make Chris jealous but you didn’t think it out enough.

Pairing: Bang Chan x fem!reader

Genre : little bit of angst , smut , fluff towards the end

word count : 1.4k

Warnings : cheating , name calling , rough handling, hair pulling , oral sex (m receiving) , spanking , rough sex , unprotected sex (don’t ), creampie , overstimulation.

Notes : I just be having lots of ideas for stray kids , they shall be coming soon though. I’m trying to get as much of these ideas out but this is my first time writing smut, I hope I did good, I could use some pointers as well. I was listening to railway and pornstar by nessa Barrett while writing this. The edit of Chris I saw was so good it made big mama throb😼.

(This is not proof read , forgive me🧍🏽‍♀️)

It was one of those days where you felt needy and when you were needy. You’d become a brat.

You had this crazy idea to get at Chris because he was still at the studio , working overtime when he was supposed to be home hours ago. You know how Chris got when you’d go out late without telling him or at least texting him and letting him know you were going out.

Your girls had asked if you wanted to go out a few hours earlier but you had the thought to decline but you were looking for some excitement right now so you hit your girls up and asked where’d y’all be going. After texting back and forth in the group chat , you started to get ready. You were feeling a low cut black dress with some small black heels. As you looked in the mirror , you could just imagine what Chris was going to do to you. All you wanted was to give him a taste of his own medicine.

The drive to the place your friends said you were meeting up at was a bougie club. (clubs just seem like a fitting setting for this rn) As you got out your car ,you noticed some messages from Chris.

Mr.Bang : Just got home, where are you ? 8:00pm

Mr.Bang : Hello? 8:30pm

Mr.Bang : Y/N , if your trying to be funny, it’s not funny. 8:50pm

When you noticed the time , it was 10 o’clock

“No point in backing out now .” Y/N thought

So you turned your phone off and went inside the club.

You noticed your girls at a table in the middle of the club so you walked to them.

“Hey bitches”

As you all started settling down , you decided to get the first round of shots because you were planning to have fun before Chris got to you but you knew when he came , you’d enjoy every moment of it.

After several rounds of shots , y’all started to disappear to the dance floor. You knew Chris was coming at any second because you never turned your location off. You didn’t want to tick him off bad , turning off your location would’ve sent him over the edge.

You were currently grinding on a random man , just thinking about Chris. You knew you were in for it. You were basically cheating on him. You loved Chris so much that you’d never cheat on him or hurt him. You just wanted to have fun and show him what it felt like when he promised he would be home more often but he broke the promise and that hurt.

You were just thinking , not noticing Chris walking into the club. You felt the urge to check your surroundings so you looked up and saw Chris basically exploding, what happened next was a blur. You were dancing on someone now being dragged out of the club by your very angry boyfriend.

“Chris” you called

He just flat out ignored you

When you got to his car , he basically threw you in the passenger seat. You guess you would come get your car tomorrow. If you could walk.

The car ride was silent. The silence made you uncomfortable but you were turned on. As Chris was pulling up to your shared apartment, you tried speaking to him but he just parked the car , got out , and dragged you out the car all the way up to the apartment.

When you guys were inside , you turned around while Chris had his back to you.

“Chris-“

“Shut the fuck up.” Chris said

“You didn’t return my messages because you just wanted to go out and whore yourself out with your friends.

“You want to be a slut , I’ll show you how sluts get treated.” Chris deadpanned

You couldn’t process what happened next but Chris grabbed you by your hair and dragged you to your shared bedroom. He had thrown you to the floor and made his way to the foot of the bed. You were rubbing your thighs together , you were so turned on. Chris watched you get off on his anger towards you. You tried to collect yourself but Chris yet again grabbed your hair and started to unbuckled his pants.

“You're getting off on this. Such a fucking slut”

You started to help Chris with his pants but he smacked your hands away.

“Don’t fucking touch me slut. Your only job is to suck my cock like a good slut. That’s all your fucking good for.” Chris said

Once he got his pants down, he took no time to just gather your hair up into a makeshift ponytail and shove your head down on his cock. You started to bob your head up and down but Chris being so big , it was getting hard for you to breathe.

slob was running all down your chin, eyes watering as you made eye contact with Chris.

Chris threw his head back and started to thrust his towards your face. You couldn’t breathe while Chris was fucking your throat but you were enjoying it so much, the feeling of the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat , the sounds of his grunts and moans , you knew your voice was gonna be fucked in the morning (literally).

“Your gonna swallow all my cum amd if I so if see a little drop fall out your mouth , you won’t cum tonight.” Chris grunted out.

Chris was getting close and before you knew it , he was cumming down your throat. You made sure you didn’t spill any of it like his good girl. You loved the taste of him, salty.

“Strip.”

That’s all you had to hear and your clothes were off in a heartbeat.

Chris now has you bent over the edge of the bed. You felt his hand rub your ass then he stopped.

!THWAP!

The way you screamed as you felt Chris spank you. Chris had gotten his leather belt and he had the means to punish you right now before he fucked the lights out of you.

“You're gonna count everytime I hit you , if you mess up then we’ll started over, got it slut ?”

“Yes sir”

!THWAP!

“TWO”

!THWAP!

“T-THREE”

Chris continued until he had spanked you ten times. You were a sobbing mess right now , Chris dropped his belt and started to massage your sore and raw ass cheeks.

“Have you learned your lesson baby?”

“y-yes daddy , I’m sorry , I just missed you so much and I just wanted to feel how it felt when you broke your promise.” You cried

Chris' heart broke, you did all this because of him.

“I’m sorry baby, how bout daddy make it up to you hmm? You want daddy to fuck you to sleep ?”

“Yes daddy, I need it .”

Chris started to stroke his hard cock. He didn’t even want to prep you, he wanted to give his baby what she needed. Chris cock started to poke your entrance , you started to whine as you felt him bully his big cock in your little hole.

“Fuck daddy , too much”

“Shh baby , I got you” Chris groaned

It took a few minutes for Chris to bottom out but once he did , you were already fucked out , so full of his cock. Chris has started to set a brutal pace , knocking the air out of you.

You were clutching the sheets for dear life as Chris was brutally abusing your hole. You felt so overstimulated

“Fuck, too much daddy”

“Baby you can take it , I know you can”

Chris started to thrust faster , he was determined on stuffing you full of his come. Chris knowing you were close , you started to squeeze him in. You felt chris’ hand grab the back of your neck and push you further in the bed.

“I’m cumming”

“You gonna let daddy cum inside you huh baby? Let daddy make you a pretty mommy?”

“Yes daddy.” You moaned

With that you came hard, Chris wasn’t far behind you. He started ramming his hips into yours. Your hole wanted his cum so you started sucking him in and he came. You felt so full, you and Chris’ juices running down your legs.

Chris pulled out of you and you collapsed on the bed. As you started to fall asleep, Chris woke you up with a wet washcloth , he was cleaning you up. Once he was finished , he made sure you peed then he laid both of you down.

Chris kissed you goodnight and promised he’d do better.

[wendichester]

˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆｡˚ say cheese,

summary. making memories in the Impala.

pairing. dean winchester + reader

wordcount. 869.

Dean’s hands rest casually on the wheel of the Impala, one wrist draped over the top as he hums along to some old Zeppelin track. You’re supposed to be navigating, but the map is nowhere in sight. You’ll have to give directions to Dean soon.

“Where’d you put the map?” you ask, leaning over to rifle through his duffle bag on the floor. “How do you manage to find anything in here?” You grumble. 

Dean glances at you, smirking. “It’s called organization, sweetheart. Try looking in the side pocket.”

“You’re hilarious,” you deadpan, unzipping the bag. But as you dig around, your fingers brush against something solid and foreign. You pull it out, blinking in surprise. “A Polaroid camera?”

Dean glances at it briefly before turning his attention back to the road. “Oh, yeah. Found that in the bunker last week. Thought I’d bring it along. Ya’ know, for kicks.”

“You, of all people, brought a camera?” you tease, holding it up. “What, planning on documenting your greatest hits?”

Dean smirks. “You kidding? With my face? Every picture’s a masterpiece.” You laugh, shaking your head. “Go on, take a picture,” he says, throwing you a quick glance. “Might as well get my good side while you’ve got the chance.”

“You only have one side, Winchester,” you quip, lifting the camera and aiming it at him.

Dean grins, the kind of grin that’s all cocky charm and a little bit dangerous. “You saying I’m perfect, sweetheart?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you reply in a mumble, but your grin betrays you as you hit the button.

Click.

The camera whirs, spitting out the film. You wave it in the air, watching the image develop. Dean glances over, curious.

“Let me see,” he says, holding out a hand.

“Eyes on the road!” you scold, tucking the photo against your chest. “You’ll see it later.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Bet it’s my best one yet.”

You roll your eyes, but your stomach flips slightly when you glance at the photo again. He’s mid-grin, sunlight catching his profile just right, and for a second, you forget to breathe.

“Your turn,” Dean says, breaking the moment.

“What?” Dean grabs the camera from your lap with one hand, holding it up as he keeps the other on the wheel. “Dean, you can’t take a picture while driving!”

“Relax,” he says, glancing over at you. His grin softens, just a little. “C’mon, give me that smile.”

You shake your head, trying to look annoyed, but he’s got that way of getting under your skin. Before you can stop yourself, you’re smiling anyway.

“Atta girl,” he murmurs, and then—

Click.

The flash blinds you for a second, and you groan. “If we crash and die, I swear I’ll haunt your ass.”

Dean just grins, glancing at the developing photo before sliding it into his shirt pocket. “Trust me, sweetheart, dying would be worth it if it means I get to keep this shot.”

You narrow your eyes at him, trying to ignore the heat creeping up your neck. “You’re such a dork.”

“And you’re gorgeous,” he shoots back smoothly, not missing a beat. His eyes flick over to you for just a second, like he’s daring you to say something. “But you already knew that.”

Your pulse jumps and you bite your lip, trying to not give him the satisfaction, but yeah—your heart’s totally doing flips. You lean forward, reaching for the camera. “Yeah, right.” 

Dean’s smirk just gets wider, and for a second, you swear he’s got this magic power over you like he can make you feel like the most alive person in the world with just a look. “Wanna take the camera?” he asks, and his grin turns a little mischievous. “Come on, sweetheart. I’m all yours. Take your best shot.”

For a split second, you freeze, but then you snap out of it, snatching the camera from his hands with a smirk of your own. “Give me that. Let’s see how photogenic you are when you’re flustering like an idiot.”

“Fluster?” Dean scoffs, holding the camera just out of your reach. “Sweetheart, I don’t fluster. I smolder.”

You roll your eyes, leaning closer as you try to grab it, and Dean doesn’t move away. His gaze flicks to yours, lingering for a beat longer than necessary. The air between you shifts, the playful tension crackling like static.

“You want the camera?” he says, his voice dropping to that gravelly tone that always makes your heart skip. “Take your shot, sweetheart. I’m all yours.”

You freeze for just a second, recomposing yourself. And then, with a laugh, you snatch the camera from his hand.

“Keep talking, Winchester,” you say, aiming it at him again. “This time, I’ll catch you looking stupid.”

Dean chuckles, and the sound is like a challenge in itself. “Oh, you’ll have to try harder than that. I don’t do dumb—I do hot.”

You narrow your eyes, feeling a rush of heat. “Sure, Dean. Sure you do.”

You catch him looking at you from the corner of your eye, and your heart skips. The way his lips curl, the way his eyes flicker… he’s definitely got you exactly where he wants you.

[sprouts-xreader-stories]

Focus! :(

REBLOGS > LIKES

Requested : No

Genre : Fluff, Canon X Reader, Albedo X Reader, Arataki Itto X Reader, Scaramouche X Reader, Kinich X Reader, GN!Reader, Separate

POV : Second Person

Warnings: Not many! Just a few minor curses here and there. One mention; Itto calls you wife once. Otherwise, entirely GN. Also, mentioned height difference when it comes to Scara; you’re shorter than him.

Albedo ~

You groaned internally. He was rambling again. He had a nice voice, sure, but you just… Weren’t feeling well.

“Bedo,” you called. He didn’t hear you. “Bedo,” you repeated, louder. He still didn’t hear. You sighed and pushed yourself off the table, careful not to knock any of the glass vials over. His coat hung off your shoulders, and you carefully pulled it back up before walking to him.

“Albedo.” Your voice had gone deadpan. He still wasn’t paying attention. And so, abruptly, you kissed him.

“So… Those two would go toge-”

He dropped whatever he was holding, the (empty) glass clattering to the floor. Miraculously, it didn’t break. Albedo paused entirely, bright blue eyes flickering down to you before he gave into the soft feeling of your lips. He was the one to pull away. “…uh… you needed me?”

Itto ~

You grinned from your spot on the grass. Watching Itto (try to) train before getting bored distracted by the kids running amok and going to play with them instead was stupidly funny. Currently, he was feigning a failure. The children were playing hide and seek. And Itto was standing right next to one of them. And pretending he couldn’t see them at all.

“Oh, this-… Ugh! Where could they have gone?” He pondered aloud, grinning. Sharp fangs glinted in the light as he abruptly grabbed the squirming kid from behind a barrel. “Oh. That’s where.” He lightly poked her before setting her down, watching her run off.

“Itto, we gotta go,” you called out. But your boyfriend didn’t hear you. You smirked. You knew exactly what to do. So, you crouched down and hid.

“…who’s next…and-! Wait where’d they go-”

He noticed. And immediately, he went around, carefully taking the kids’ from their hiding places. “Alright, kiddos, we had fun, but I really gotta get going my wife’s disappeared-” He explained, almost too quickly for the young ones to understand. But, they went around, trying to help him find you.

“Over here!” A young boy called out, pointing at where you were. You crawled out and crossed over to your boyfriend. He just sighed lightly. “Don’t do that again.” “Maybe listen next time, and I won’t.” You stuck your tongue out at him.

Scaramouche ~

Both of you were particularly quiet. Like he said, “It’s rather pathetic to force a conversation just to occupy silence”. So, most of your time was spent in silence, just enjoying each other’s presence.

You were completely silent as you chewed on the lotus crisps he’d made. For who… Well, for what his past was, he was a decently good cook. He was entirely focused on the ingredients, humming something of a soft song.

“Scara?” You spoke up after swallowing. He didn’t respond. You frowned. “Scara…?” You repeated. He still didn’t answer. You sighed softly and got off the stool, walking to him. “Scara…” You carefully touched his arm. He glanced at you, but didn’t speak. Without saying a word, he pulled you closer, in front of him. Caged in by his arms in something like a hug; he was busy chopping up whatever was in front of him, sure, but you were begging for his attention. And even someone as strong-willed as him couldn’t resist.

He didn’t speak. Just held you close, his chin resting atop your head.

Kinich ~

“Ajaw. Shut up, you damned dragon.” Kinich hissed. He was pissed off with the thing, at this point. “Ichi,” you murmured. Ajaw kept bickering, complaining, just being annoying. Kinich waved him away. He didn’t feel well today, and Ajaw wasn’t helping.

“Ichi, love,” you repeated, frowning. He didn’t hear you. Ajaw was drowning you out. “Ajaw. Can you stop, please? Just for a sec.” “No, Kinich’s sick, which means he might die soon-!” The dragon cackled, much to Kinich’s annoyance.

“Go. Away.” Kinich swatted at the pixels. Ajaw just laughed and kept eagerly waiting, making small sounds of excitement. “Ichi?” You finally started, once the room was quiet. “Hm.” Good. There was his attention.

“Uh-… Your food’s done.”

@drxgonspine , @akuutff , @emotionalsupportgoblin420 , @sh0uz , @vexter-the-comedian

[princessbrunette]

being the spoiled, ex prom queen, cheerleader, kook princess — who also happens to be rafe cameron’s toxic ex girlfriend.

you had to give credit where it was due. since you’d dumped rafe, he’d stepped his game up. you didn’t know how he did it, where he got all the money and the alleged gold, but you had to say, you were impressed. you knew he hoped you’d be watching his moves, knew it was most likely to impress you. turning up to one of his infamous tanny hill parties alone was a weak moment on your end, but you’d be damned if you were going to let him know that.

heads turn when you enter, not just because you were the infamous ex girlfriend, but because you looked good— and you wouldn’t have it any other way, stepping through the crowd confidently holding back a giggle at the sight of rafe boredly talking to a girl who looked like she’d taken a dip into your wardrobe. cute.

as soon as he sees you, he’s doing a double take — quickly pointing her in the direction of his friend and all but shooing her away, attempting to seem nonchalant all at the same time. you take your cue, walking over to him already holding an air of mischief, given away by the impish smile you wear.

“can i help you with something?” he drawls, but he can’t help the way the corner of his lips turn upward, or the way his eyes rake over your little outfit.

“mm, i don’t know. thought i’d swing by for old times sake, see what you were up to.” you sigh, eyes dragging down to his button up shirt, your hand reaching out to fiddle with a button. “this is cute.” you add on quietly.

“you think i don’t know that face? you want something so… out with it, please.” he blinks at you, going to remove your hand from him but he holds onto it.

“i can’t just say hi?” you bat your eyelashes with obvious faux innocence, tilting your head. “came here ‘cos i’m bored. play with me.” you step closer, not removing your doe eyes from him for a second as you invade his space. he sucks in a breath of self restraint, shifting on his feet.

“play with— that what you’re doin’ now? finally settin’ that pride aside for some dick, do i have that correct? you—you know i heard you were fucking on that maybank kid. so what… he not doin’ it for you? hm?” he stares down at you, eyes hanging low at the lust he was holding back.

“where’d you hear that? you keeping tabs on me rafey? that’s sweet.” you pur, smoothing his linen shirt down with your hands, manicured nails scratching him lightly through the fabric.

“people talk, alright?” he breaks his gaze, mainly to look around to see if any of his friends were watching him act like a total pussy whipped bitch over his ex.

“hmm. thought it was above you to listen to rumours. anyway, who said i want anything for myself? maybe i miss doing other things.” you defend, voice soft and velvety as a feather. to sell your point, your stand on your tiptoes, pulling him in closer to speak quietly into his ear. your glossed lips graze his jaw as you speak, leaving your pink mark on him. “c’mon daddy, just let me suck it a little. don’t you miss it?” you all but moan, and he licks his lips before his eyes flutter in irritated self control, nostrils flaring.

“you know it’s — it’s not fair to play with me like that. just… toying around with me when you’re bored. it’s sick, okay? you understand that?” he complains, pants tightening involuntarily.

you giggle, reaching behind him to the drinks table and plucking out a straw before dropping it into his drink and taking it out his hand, sucking the harsh liquid through the straw for a moment, “fine… you really want me to go… i’ll go.” you spin on your heel, taking one smug step before he winces at his own decisions, looking around and following you closely.

“shit, wait— okay?” he blurts and you freeze, slowly spinning back to him with a smile. he stares at you for a beat, lips parted in thought before he speaks. “are you… actually fucking jj maybank?”

you stare, thinking up a response before you look around. “does it matter? where’s your little girlfriend anyway?” there’s some victory for him, because he can hear the bitterness in your tone. he takes another step forward, lips pursed.

“shes not my girlfriend, a’ight? and — and yes it matters. okay? shit, seems like you’re keeping tabs on me. you know if you miss me you can just use your damn words.”

“miss you? my friend said she saw you sitting in your car alone blasting bryson tiller. you miss me.” you bite back a laugh and he closes the space between you until there was barely a gap between your bodies, the oldest cameron looming over you.

“gonna deny it, huh? saying… you don’t miss me?” he challenges and you widen your eyes up at him, switching the innocent act on once more.

“miss you? but you were so mean? how could i miss that? i do however, miss this.” your hand snakes down his stomach and cups his alarmingly hard bulge through his pants making him tense up, looking around before smacking your hand away.

“chill — yeah? we’re in public, i don’t know if you realised.”

“so let’s go somewhere more private.” you propose, staring him down. he knows if he does, it’ll only be you that gets what you want — but he can’t resist, pressing his lips together with a nod.

“fine, okay. shit… such a little brat, ‘know that?”

“mhm, you love it.” you grin, letting him lead you through the house to the bedroom upstairs.

[traveler-at-heart]

The Doctor's In - Part 5

Wanda Maximoff x Doctor!R

Summary: The evolution of your relationship with Wanda. Includes some smut.

Always late. You’ve learned the lesson, so you don’t even bother with the coffee, because it’s cold by the time you leave the house.

Of course, you didn’t have time to do groceries either so you’re stuck with an almost rotten banana.

As you leave the house, Wanda opens up the door of her own home, calling for the twins.

You smile, while she signals for you to walk over.

“Hey, beautiful” you say, admiring her outfit. You know she has a meeting with her editor. “All ready for today?”

“Yeah, it’s just the kids are late. Boys, come on” she turns back to you, smiling. “Here. I packed you lunch”

“How did you know I have nothing edible?” you swoon, taking the brown paper bag, and leaning to kiss her. She hums against your lips and you feel her little smile. “You’re out of this world, Miss Maximoff”

Wanda wants to prolong the contact, but hears the kids stomping down the stairs and you break apart. Yes, you’ve spent more time with them, basically whenever you’re off work. But there hasn’t been the awkward “what are we” talk and the subsequent chat of how to tell Billy and Tommy. If there’s anything to tell, that is.

“Hey, Y/N” Billy says, throwing his bagpack in the trunk of the car.

“Are you coming for dinner tonight? We just defeated Rypto!” Tommy says excitedly.

“I have to work for the next day and a half, but after that, sure”

The boys nod, disappointed and Wanda rolls her eyes.

“I’m a little jealous of how much they like you. Seems like I’m their second favorite person now” she says in a low voice, your eyes traveling to her lips.

“You are my favorite person, in case that helps” you admit, making her blush.

“Have a good day” Wanda says, and you nod, wanting nothing more than to kiss her.

“Text you later” you promise, squeezing her hand and walking to your own car, hoping your shift goes by soon, eager to have Wanda in your arms again.

The day starts normal enough. It’s more paperwork than consults or any emergency, but you still make your rounds and review the pending discharged patients.

For once, you get to have lunch at a decent time, eager to eat whatever it is Wanda made for you.

There’s a chicken sandwich, from yesterday’s leftovers of that heavenly paprikash dish she made, a couple of cookies and a note.

“Have a nice day. XOXO - W”

“Where’d you get those cookies?” Darcy says, approaching you. Holding the container close to your chest, you growl at her. “No, bad Cujo!”

In spite of your best efforts, she snatches one of the cookies.

“These are fantastic cookies”

“Wanda made them”

“Oh, did Mommy pack you lunch?” Darcy says in a fake baby voice and you glare.

“Keep that up and I’m not sharing any more cookies, Lewis”

“I was kidding. I love you, friend” she bats her eyelashes, sitting next to you. “So, is the sex better than the baked goods?”

“I don’t know. We haven’t done it yet” you admit, avoiding her eyes.

“Because…”

“Because the kids are always around or I’m too tired… I don’t know. We’re just spending time together and seeing where it goes”

“And how does that make you feel?” Darcy says, reaching for another cookie.

“It’s fine… but I guess it’s all new to me. I dated in college, but ever since I started working here all I do is be at the hospital… and be with people from the hospital”

“And now you’re in this potential relationship, where she has two kids. Talk about going from 0 to 100” Darcy pats your back and you nod. “It’s gonna be fine, Y/N. All you have to do is talk it out”

“Thanks, Darcy. Here, you earned half of the last cookie”

“Half? That was solid advice” she mumbles, chewing on it.

You laugh, promising you’ll share more cookies the next time Wanda makes some. She leaves to supervise a resident doing an appy, and you go back to the ER.

“Help! Someone!” you see a paramedic with blood all over his shirt.

“Drax, what’s wrong?”

“Peter was turning around the corner, after dropping someone off and a car crashed against the ambulance”

“Ok, let’s go. Bishop, you’re with me. Page Chief Fury” you ask a nurse, the young resident following you closely.

As soon as you turn around the block, you spot the ambulance and make out Quill’s body, hanging upside down.

“Bring stretchers for the other driver and his passenger” you tell Kate. With a sigh, you kneel next to the ambulance, crawling between broken glass. You notice a sharp pain in your elbow, but lean forward until you’re touching Quill’s neck, looking for a pulse.

As soon as you touch him, he jolts awake, screaming.

“Ah, Jesus, Quill” you curse, hitting your head against the dashboard.

“What happened?” he looks around, disoriented.

“Someone crashed into you. Do you feel anything strange?”

“I can’t feel my legs” he says, looking at you. You gulp, not knowing what to say.

Peter is your friend, even if you only see each other at work. He’s the guy that shares his snacks, that cracks a joke when you’re down just to make you laugh. A man that you’ve known for three years, and now you have to tell him he might not make it.

“What do we got?” Fury shows up on the other side.

“Just hanging” Quill jokes, but you can’t bring yourself to even smile. “I can’t breath, there’s pressure in my chest”

“Hold on tight, the firemen are on their way to get you out” Fury asks, signaling for you to meet him around the ambulance while Kate takes his vitals.

“What do you think?”

“It’s not good” you admit in a low voice. “He can’t feel his legs, but I also can’t see anything below his chest. I don’t know what will happen if we move him, Chief”

“But if we don’t…”

“He’s going to die”

“Let’s take care of the pressure on his chest first”

“Should we page cardio?”

“If you can handle it, go ahead. Quill works with you, he trusts you”

You nod, running back to the hospital to get everything you need to treat Quill’s cardiac tamponade. By the time you’re back, Kate is trying to keep him awake.

“He has low blood pressure”

“Come on, Quill, stay with me” you ask, preparing everything. You unbutton his shirt, gloved fingers trying to sense the exact spot to extract the liquid on his chest. It takes you a moment because he is upside down, but you get it and pull the syringe, filling up with dark fluid.

You and Kate sigh with relief as Quill gasps for air, opening his eyes.

“Did I die for a second?” he says, coughing. “Doc, I need you to tell something to Gamora”

“Quill, tell her yourself when you’re out of here” you try to ignore the request, avoiding the conversation.

“Just tell her to look on my old cassettes, please. She needs to know I did get a ring”

A ring. Fuck. You lock eyes and nod.

“Firemen are here” Kate says, waving at the men.

“Clint Barton” the man introduces himself, assessing the mess around Quill. “We’ll do everything we can to help him” he promises, and you nod.

As they begin to work, you go back next to Quill, trying to distract him.

“Got any music?”

“Sure” you pull out your phone, handing it over so he can play whatever he wants.

Come and get your love starts playing and you both sing. Three more songs pass before Barton lets you know they are ready to release him.

“Bishop and Drax, ready with the stretcher” you say, the other paramedic getting ready to drag Peter’s body out as soon as he can.

"Hold on. Promise me you'll tell her" Quill says again and you nod.

“3… 2…”

There’s a loud, metallic bang and then Quill’s body falls forward. It all happens in seconds and by the time you walk around the ambulance, Drax is wheeling him to the ER.

For a split second, you think he’s going to be fine because he’s consciouss, looking around.

And then his mouth is full of blood, choking sounds mixing with the noises of the hospital.

“Crash cart” you ask, starting CPR.

“Charge to 200” Fury asks, and you step aside when it’s time.

“I need a round of Epi” you say, urgency in your voice.

Charge, clear, another round.

You’re at it for ten minutes, and you can’t feel your arms, or hear anything else other than the continuous beep of the monitor. A bead of sweat rolls down your forehead, but you keep doing CPR.

Just five more minutes.

“That’s enough” Fury says, pushing you aside. “Call it”

“No, Sir”

“Doctor Y/L/N, step away from the patient” he says, his voice booming across the room. You shake your head no, and then turn to the monitor, hoping something changes.

“He was going to propose to his girlfriend. He has to make it. Come on, come on, come on” you mutter.

Fury stands next to you, a soft look on his face.

“He’s gone, Y/N. I’m sorry”

You break down, tears rolling down your face and mixing with the sweat.

Sitting on the hallway, you catch your breath, unaware of the blood dripping from your elbow until Darcy rushes to your side.

“Hey, let’s clean that up, ok?” she says, helping you up.

“What can I do?” Carol approaches, noticing how your eyes are unfocused.

“I think we should call Wanda” Darcy suggests.

“Her phone number should be on Billy’s record, I’ll go get it” Carol nods.

You don’t even react to Darcy as she cleans up the wound, or when she mentions you’ll need a few stitches. She could have done it without the anesthesia and you wouldn’t have noticed.

“Thanks” you say when she’s cleaning up, and the woman leans forward, squeezing your hand.

“Don’t mention it”

—

Wanda recognises the hospital’s number and picks up, expecting everything except Carol’s voice.

“Hello, Doctor Danvers” she says, trying to figure out what’s going on.

“Hi, Wanda. It’s about Y/N”

Carol didn’t have to tell her twice. Wanda drives from her editor’s office to the hospital in record time. She notices an ambulance and a fire truck; her heart beats faster at the sight of blood, hoping it’s not yours.

“Wanda?” a short brunette with glasses greets the woman. “Darcy Lewis, come with me”

“Is she hurt?” Wanda asks, getting more worried as Darcy leads her through the staff door.

“Only a cut in her arm. She’s just… shaken” Darcy stops at the door. “One of the paramedics died”

“I’m sorry to hear that”

“Chief Fury said she should go home, we just didn’t want her to be alone”

Darcy finally opens the door, Wanda’s heart breaking at the sight before her.

You’re sitting on the floor, head hanging in defeat between your hands. She can see your fingers threading through the loose hairs of your ponytail, something you do when you’re anxious.

“Y/N” she kneels slowly, and you look up, wiping your tears. “It’s ok. I’m here”

“I’m sorry” you say, and you’re not sure what is it you’re apologizing for.

“None of that, my love. Come on” she takes your hand, helping you up.

Before leaving the room, you take Darcy’s hand, smiling.

“Thank you, Darcy”

“Get some rest, pal” she says, as Wanda leads you back to her car.

“Let’s go home” Wanda says against your temple, kissing the spot softly.

You don’t say a word during the entire drive, looking out the window. Wanda’s car stops and with it, the radio. The silence finally snaps you out of your thoughts.

“Sorry for the trouble, I hope I didn’t interrupt your meeting”

“It’s fine. Do you…”

“Thanks for the ride” you say, exiting the car. You’re about to walk to your house when Wanda goes after you.

“You can come over. It’s ok”

“I need to shower” you notice how dirty you feel, blood staining parts of your arms and pants.

“Take a shower in my bathroom, and I’ll lend you some clothes”

“You sure?”

“Yes, darling. Now, come on”

You allow her to guide you upstairs, stepping foot in her room for the first time. Wanda leads you to the ensuite bathroom, handing you a towel.

“I’ll leave some clothes on the bed, ok?”

All you do is nod, and she wishes there was more she could do, but she just silently retreats, giving you space.

The pressure of the water is nice and you feel infinitely better when you step out of the shower, noticing the stitches on your arm with a frown.

“Everything good?” Wanda says as you go down the steps. You nod and she tries to smile. “Did you eat anything? I could prepare something…”

Her words are interrupted by your lips. It’s a short kiss, but you hope it can speak for itself.

“Thank you” you lean your forehead against hers, eyes closed. Allowing her scent to ground you, you breathe.

“What can I do?” Wanda asks, her hands over yours.

“Can we watch tv?”

“Come here” she smiles, taking your hand. She sits on the couch, motioning for you to lay your head on her lap. You’re not really paying attention to the show, but the way she runs her fingers through your hair relaxes you, and you drift off, fast asleep.

By the time you wake up, Wanda is on top of you, her head tucked in the crook of your neck. You smile, appreciating how peaceful she looks. She must sense you staring, because she stirrs awake, yawning.

“Hi” she says, looking around. You smile, your hands going to her lower back, and something shifts inside you. You’re not thinking at all, just acting on your feelings as you take her lips in yours, your tongue asking for permission. Wanda moans and you pull her closer, one of your hands holding her in place while you kiss down her neck, unbuttoning her blouse until her bra is exposed.

“Y/N” she stutters, and you hum against her neck. Wanda forgets what she was about to say when she feels you sucking on the skin, sure that you will leave a mark. When you place your leg between hers, creating friction she gets lost again, until you speed up.

“What’s wrong?” you say, when she stands up, fixing her hair.

“The kids… uh, I should…”

“Wanda” you plead, looking sadly at her. “Did I do something?”

“No, it’s not you, I…”

“Please talk to me”

Wanda breaths, hoping what she’s about to say won’t push you away.

“I can’t… I feel too much, Y/N. If we do this, if we sleep together, there’s no turning back. Because everyday, I fall in love with you even more. And I’m scared that you’re not going to feel the same”

It’s so stupid of her, to fall in love. You never spoke about the future or expectations. She doesn’t even know if you want kids or marriage, and she comes with two children who are wonderful, but a huge committment.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, please” she starts to ramble again, misinterpreting your silence. “Maybe we should…”

You lean forward, stopping her with a kiss.

“I love you” you say against her lips. As soon as she hears the words, her eyes open.  “Everything about you, everything about the boys you raised and who are so kind and wonderful because they’re like you, Wanda”

“You… I love you too” she laughs, a tear rolling down her cheek. She feels relief, happiness, amazement. You kiss the spot where the tear is, leaning your forehead against her temple.

“All these years I’ve been alone and I didn’t realise how lonely it felt until you. I should have told you sooner, I’m sorry”

“It’s ok. I love you” she repeats over and over again, her lips against yours. You smile into the kiss, happy that she feels the same.

After a few minutes of kissing and hugging, she pulls apart, sighing.

“We need to tell the kids” she says. Well, that’s certainly not your area of expertise.

“How do you want to do it?”

“Let’s take them out for pizza and just explain everything? They’ll get distracted with the food” Wanda laughs and you nod.

“Alright. That’s a plan” you kiss her again, but your eyes drift down, her blouse still undone.

“Behave” she warns, sitting up.

“Can you blame me?” you sigh, admiring how beautiful she looks.

“Come on, let’s get the boys from soccer practice” she offers her hand and you take it, smiling.

When you leave the house, the sight of your empty driveway reminds you your car is still in the hospital. You have a promise to keep about a certain ring.

“Everything ok?” Wanda says when you stay silent.

“Yeah, I just gotta do some stuff later”

“Ok”

The boys are ecstatic when they see you climb out of the car, running towards you.

“Mom, we have a match next Friday, can Y/N come?” Tommy says as they put their bags in the trunk.

“If she doesn’t have work, sure” Wanda smiles, taking a breath. Understanding that it’s time, you stand next to her, fidgeting with your hands. “Boys, there’s something we want to tell you. Y/N and I are… together”

“How is that?” Billy tilts his head. “Like a girlfriend?”

“Yes, that would be it” Wanda nods, not knowing what else to say. You step in, kneeling so you can look at Tommy and Billy.

“Hey, kiddos. I just want you to know I love you both very much and I love your mom as well. All I want is to take care of you and make her happy. But if you feel weird about it, or you have questions just tell us, ok? Your Mom’s priority will always be you two”

The boys take a second to think and then nod, laughing when you ruffle their hair. Wanda takes your hand, leaning forward to kiss your cheek.

“Are we going to have a new baby, then?”

“What?” you turn so fast you almost lose your footing.

“Sally said that’s how babies are made and you’re holding hands right now” Tommy explains.

“Oh, that’s not how babies are made” you laugh it off, in spite of Wanda’s warning glare.

“How are babies made, then?” Billy says and you go pale.

Yeap, walked right into that one. Wanda seems to be unwilling to help, as she tried to stop you.

“Who wants pizza?” you say, the kids forgetting about their question and running to the car. “That was the most stressful moment of my life and I’m a trauma surgeon”

You collapse in Wanda’s arms, breathing out.

“Come on, drama queen” she laughs, kissing your temple. “Let’s get some food, and maybe later you can show me how babies are made?”

“Mmhm” you nod, your brain turning to mush. “Tease”

—

“Are you going to the game tomorrow?” Wanda speaks and you’re half listening, as if her words are from a distant dream.

“Sure” you say against her skin, kissing and licking the column of her neck. She holds on to your shoulders as you go down, and you feel her shake in your lap.

“Wait. I’m asking for a reason”

“Ok” you nod, breaking apart.

“Would you like to do something after the game?” Wanda says and you wonder why she’s so nervous.

“Yeah, like take them to the movies?”

“No, the boys will be at a sleepover. I meant you and me”

“Oh” you say, heart beating faster at the implication. You’ll have the house to yourselves for the first time since you started dating.

“I can make dinner and we’ll stay in” Wanda offers.

“You’re always making dinner, baby”

“It’s just pasta, the easiest thing in the world”

“I wouldn’t know, I’m a terrible cook” you smile against her lips. “My offer for a dinner date somewhere nice stands”

“You can bring a fancy bottle of wine and dessert” she offers.

“I can think of a few things for dessert” you blurt out, eyes going down her body.

The way her eyes darken tells you she got the hint, so you change positions, you on top of her as she giggles.

“I love you” you kiss her, but your pager interrupts you. “And I have to go”

“You sure you have to go?” she asks, her legs around your waist. You’re questioning your choices when the pager goes off again. “Ok, never mind”

“Sorry, love” you kiss her before standing up, admiring how beautiful she looks with those kiss swollen lips.

As soon as you arrive at the hospital, you’re running around between patients and emergencies.

“Hey, pal. No lunch today?” Darcy says when you meet at the cafeteria.

“No, had to leave in a rush” you carry your tray to a nearby table, sitting with your friend.

“Did you tell Peter’s girlfriend?” she asks.

“At the funeral, yeah. Figured it might be better if she had her friends and sister around for support” you sigh, still shaken about what happened earlier in the week.

It was the worst feeling, being in the ER and seeing an ambulance arrive, thinking Quill might come down and tell you a joke or ask about your day, only to remember he was gone.

“Thank you for calling Wanda, by the way”

“Carol did” Darcy says and you choke on your soda, making her laugh. “Don’t worry, they were both playing nice”

“Right, well, I’ll thank her later”

“We want cookies, and by we, I mean me” she demands.

“I’ll see what I can do” you say, eating your burger with a smile. The minute Wanda knows Darcy loves her baked goods she’ll never stop sending her some, that’s how amazing she is.

After eating, Darcy and you find an on-call room to chill, each one in a bed.

Wanda: I’m at the mall.

Y/N: What are you getting, baby?

Wanda: Stuff

Wanda: Which one is better? Red or white?

You frown, not knowing if she’s refering to something in particular. And then she sends two pictures of lingerie sets, making you drop your phone in your face.

“Ew, are you sexting?” Darcy says, laughing as you rub the spot where your phone hit you.

“No. Gotta prep for surgery” you say, leaving in a hurry.

“Freak!” she shouts as you close the door.

Y/N: Both are… wow.

Y/N: But red. Definitely red.

You’re eager to get a reply, but you have a surgery to do.

While in the OR, you briefly forget about your conversation, teaching Kate how to do the procedure.

“Whose phone is ringing?” you say, after several notifications.

“That’s yours, Doc”

“Oh, sorry everyone” you laugh. “Kate, can you check what it is?”

The woman nods, reading from the previews in the lock screen.

“It says “Just got it”, a couple of pictures, and can’t wait for you to…”

“Aaah, that’s enough. Thank you, Doctor Bishop” you say, blushing. “Come back so you can watch the next part of the procedure”

When you finally get to see the photos she sent you’re about to call a crash cart for yourself.

You keep staring at the pictures revealing just a little bit of the top of the set on Wanda’s body.

This is the best day of your life.

You’re even tempted to just meet her at the soccer game and take her back to your car.

But, when the time comes, you behave, parking around the field and waving at the boys, who are warming up.

“Hey, you made it…” Wanda greets, looking adorable with a baseball cap and her hair lose. You don’t let her finish, crashing your lips against hers, hands on her waist.

“Tease” you say with a smile and she laughs.

“Come on, let’s sit over here”

She points to a bench that is under the shade of a tree. Most of the crowd in the field are other moms, cheering for their children.

“Wow, Tommy’s really fast” you say, watching as the kid sprints to get the ball. “Come on!”

You lift Wanda in the air as he scores a goal, yelling like he just won the World Cup.

“Did you see that? He was amazing! Two kids were after him and he managed to get past their defense” you say, standing up and approaching the edge of the field. Wanda laughs at how invested you become in the game, shouting your suggestions to the kids or cheering them on when they get the ball.

Coach Hill notices the new face among the crowd, appreciating the level of committment. Unlike other parents, you seem to know a thing or two about the sport.

As the game is about to end, one kid kicks the ball a little too hard, bouncing on another boy’s head. Everyone gasps and you run to the field.

“Hey, it’s ok” you calm him down as he touches the place where the ball hit him. “What’s your name?”

“Will”

“Will, hi. I’m Y/N”

“Excuse me” a woman kneels next to you. “That’s my son”

“Can I check him? I’m a doctor” you say, trying to ease her nerves.

“Ok”

You nod, helping him up and walking to the bleachers. Kneeling to be at eye level, you check his pupils, and ask him to follow your finger.

“Will, what day is today?”

“Friday”

“Can you repeat after me? Today is a sunny day”

“Today is a sunny day” he says without difficulty.

“And what are you gonna ask your mom for dinner? Because I’m pretty sure she’ll get you anything you want right now”

“McDonald’s!”

You laugh, standing up and turning to his mother.

“He’s fine, just ice the place where he got hit. If he’s nauseous or dizzy, take him to the doctor as soon as possible”

“Thank you so much…”

“Y/N” you offer your hand, and she takes it, making the contact last a little longer.

“Y/N. Could I have your phone number? Just in case I have questions” she says, hand going to squeeze your forearm.

“Sharon, I’m so happy Will is ok” Wanda comes to the rescue, her hand around your arm. “Lucky for you my girlfriend was here”

You smile at the word girlfriend, feeling like a teenager.

“Oh, you two?” Sharon says, gaping. Wanda smiles, but there’s a dangerous glint in her eyes. “Right! I should take Will home, he needs to rest”

“Ok, you do that. Feel better, sweetheart” Wanda waves at the boy, and then turns to you. “I hate Sharon”

“Don’t be jealous”

“I’m not!” she says too quickly for your liking. You smile and she rolls her eyes. “I have to find the boys, don’t get into more trouble”

“I won’t” you promise, smiling because Wanda is in fact, very jealous. You’re watching her walk away -and admiring how good she looks in a pair of jeans- when someone speaks behind you.

“Very impressive. I’m Coach Hill” the woman introduces herself and you give her your name. “Nice to see some new faces here. Especially people who know the game”

“Oh, I just watch the Women’s World Cup, that’s all”

“It’s better than the men’s” Maria says and you laugh, agreeing. “Would you be interested in helping out? Most parents just want to bring food to fundraising events, but it would be nice to have an assistant coach who also knows first aid”

You blink a few times, watching as Wanda approaches, walking behind Maria.

“Oh, well…”

“We could talk it over dinner”

Too late. Wanda tilts her head in that way that makes her look so dangerous (and hot)

“Y/N works so many hours, I’m not sure she has the bandwith. I can barely get her to myself most days, right baby?” she kisses your cheek, making you blush.

“Yeah, long hours at the hospital”

“My offer stands” the coach says, not backing out from a challenge. You wait until she’s away to turn to Wanda.

“Babe, I didn’t do anything! I promise I was just standing here…”

“There’s something you should know about me” Wanda interrupts, whispering hotly against your ear. “I don’t like to share”

“I…” you stutter when she looks into your eyes. Wanda holds your chin with her thumb and index finger.

“Is that understood?”

“Y-yes”

“Good girl” she smiles, kissing you, her tongue swiping across your bottom lip.

You have a dumb expression as she walks to her car.

“See you at home” she says, making sure everyone in the parking lot hears her.

You blush as Sharon eyes you with a smirk, and you sprint to your car before anyone else gets any crazy ideas. 

When you get home, Wanda is helping the kids set up their overnight bags while they shower.

“Can you drive them to their friend’s house? I have to do a couple of things here. You can take my car”

“Sure. I’ll shower and come back”

To your surprise, they’re both excited about the sleepover. You vividly remember hating those and your mom had to pick you up in the middle of the night more than once.

“Be good, ok? I’ll come get you tomorrow” Wanda asks. You check your phone for the address, noticing it’s a short distance.

“Are you and mom having a sleepover too?” Billy says and you smile.

“Yeah, we’ll probably watch movies and eat lots of candy” you joke, trying not to think about Wanda in lingerie. Not while you’re driving her children and your brain can malfunction in the middle of the road.

“I hope she doesn’t get sad because we’re gone” Tommy says as you wait for their friend to open up the door.

“I’ll take care of her for you. You just worry about having fun”

“Ok” they both nod, and you raise your hands for a high five.

On the way back, you get the wine and some tiramisu from a nice bakery downtown, thinking Wanda might appreciate the time alone to finish her errands.

After stopping at the gas station to fill up her tank, you head back, parking in her driveway and taking the stuff you bought inside.

“I’m back” you say, but are met with silence as you close the door. “Wanda?”

Slightly worried, you go up the stairs, making sure she knows you’re coming.

“Go ahead” she says as you knock on her door.

“Hey, you ok?” you say, stopping as soon as you take in the view before you.

Wanda, sitting at the edge of her bed, wearing the lingerie set she showed you before. The bed has rose petals scattered, and there are some candles lighting up the room.

“Is this too much? I just wanted it to be special” she says, standing up. You take a step forward, and the only thing you can do is kneel, admiring every inch of skin on display.

Wanda gasps, anticipation building up as she watches you run your hands up and down her thighs.

“I knew I was gonna have the best meal of my life tonight” you say, kissing her legs. She holds your shoulders as her knees shake, squeezing harder when your nose nudges her center, eager to taste her.

��Bed” is her only command and you nod, lifting her up in your arms and carrying her the short distance. You try to set her down gently, but she pulls you roughly as soon as her back hits the mattress.

When Wanda moves further down, she groans.

“Ouch, ouch, my ass”

“Your ass is great, baby”

“No” she protests, and you don’t know if she’s laughing or crying. “I have a thorn in my butt. I guess I didn’t remove all of them from the roses”

“Turn around” you ask, inspecting every inch of her delicious behind. “Ah, here it is. This will hurt a bit”

“Son of a bitch” Wanda says as you pull it out. You hold back a laugh, but can’t help yourself when she screams into a pillow. Annoyed at your mood, she throws it blindly behind her, completely missing.

“Babe, it’s ok. Just lay on your stomach for a bit and the pain will pass soon”

“I wanted this to be romantic. There’s nothing romantic about a thorny butt”

“Well, I don’t mind the view” you admit, enjoying how the position is accentuating the curve of her lower back, and the skimpy underwear allows you to admire her ass.

“You’re just trying to make me feel better” she mumbles against the duvet.

“Is that such a bad thing?” you ask, hovering over her, kissing behind her ear, down her neck and the space between her shoulders.

“I suppose not” she admits, holding back a moan.

“Let me take care of you, baby” you say, kissing and licking your way down her body. As you go further down, you kiss the inside of her thighs, around her center and anywhere but the place she needs the most.

Wanda enjoys a little too much the anticipation, her position keeping her from watching your next move. She grabs another pillow, hoping to squeeze it hard enough to keep her from screaming.

“Don’t hold back” you tsk, pushing her underwear aside and moaning at the view in front of you. She’s so wet and ready and how you wished you had some of the toys you enjoy using so much, just to stretch her. But for now, all you need is to taste her, so you dart your tongue out, small licks flicking the bundle of nerves until Wanda whimpers, moving her hips against your face, begging for more.

You hold her hips in place, and give in to her silent request, going deeper and licking up and down, enjoying how erratic her movements get when she’s close to the edge.

“Don’t stop” she pleads when you crawl back up, kissing her back, leaving some of her juices glistening on her beautiful skin.

“Baby, I want to ask you something” you whisper in her ear. “Do you ever touch yourself?”

“I…” she tries to create some friction with her legs.

“Answer me”

“Yes”

“Do you use any toys?” you ask, one of your hands traveling to her center, rubbing gently.

“Yes” she says, this time a little out of breath.

“Want to use one right now?”

“I just want you” she pleads, burying her face between her arms, flushed and taken aback by her own desire.

“You’re doing so good for me. If it’s too much just tell me, promise?”

“Mhm” she nods, her breathing getting faster as she feels your hands pulling down her underwear, the cold air hitting her pussy.

“God, you’re so hot” you say, your thumb going down to gently tease her clit, suspecting Wanda was too sensitive.

After a few minutes of massaging her clit, she begins to sigh and moan, moving her hips. It doesn’t take long for her to ask exactly what she wants.

“More, please”

“Is this ok?” you say, teasing her entrance with one of your fingers. Wanda doesn’t answer, moaning and panting instead. “Lift your legs a little bit for me, can you do that?”

Wanda nods, spreading her legs and leaning on her knees so her ass is slightly elevated. You lay on your back, allowing her to straddle your face and leaving enough room to finger her.

“You taste amazing” you say, pulling her down so she’s almost sitting on your face. You hear Wanda moan, but you’re too focused on the slick that’s dripping down her cunt and all over your chin.

When you feel like she’s ready, you begin to massage her clit, while two of your fingers are swallowed by her pussy. She’s tight, but seems to enjoy it, moaning loudly when you move inside of her.

“Yes, fuck, please keep going” Wanda says, moving her hips faster.

“Look at you, so full and ready. Can’t wait to fuck you with my dick” you say, getting wet at the idea.

“I’m so close” she mumbles, and you feel her pussy clenching around your fingers, making it hard for you to move.

Wanda switches positions when she moves, making you go deeper and you know you’re hitting the right spot when she cries, holding on to the duvet and crying out as she comes around your fingers and your mouth.

You keep her in place, enjoying the feeling of her cunt pulsing around your fingers. Waiting until she relaxes, you pull out, smiling as she complains.

You climb back up, laying next to her. Wanda’s eyes are closed, her breathing erratic as she comes down from her high. Once she opens her eyes, you smile.

“Hey, gorgeous”

“That was…”

“Mhm” you nod, kissing her so she can taste herself. “Told you, just let me take care of you”

“Give me a second and I can… we can do it again. You haven’t come…”

“I’m fine” you shake your head. “That was extremely hot and your pleasure is mine. Just take your time”

“I love you” she says, kissing you once again, her mind still foggy from the orgasm.

“I love you too” you smile against her lips, eager to worship every inch of her body and show her how much more she can feel.

—

Light seeps through curtains and you open your eyes, looking around. Wanda’s scent is in the sheets, the pillows and the air around you.

Sadly, she’s missing from the bed and you stretch, ready to look for her and talk her into coming back.

Your button up shirt is nowhere to be found, so you take the tank top that was discared the night before and go down the stairs.

The sight that greets you is heavenly.

Wanda is humming along a Sinatra song, pouring some pancake mix in a pan. What makes it so special is how she’s wearing your shirt, that is obviously too big on her.

You’re not sure if she’s wearing panties underneath that, but you’re eager to find out.

“You scared me” she laughs when she feels you against her back.

“And you weren’t in bed when I woke up” you say, kissing her neck.

“I wanted to surprise you with breakfast”

“I am hungry” you mutter against her skin, moving her hair aside to get better access.

“Oh” she says, leaning against you. You make her walk back all the way to the kitchen counter, switching your bodies so she’s in front of you.

As you kiss her lips, your hand goes down her body, checking that she is in fact wearing underwear.

“Mmm, you’re overdressed” you say, pulling them down.

“What are you doing?” Wanda stutters, feeling your fingers teasing softly against her entrance.

“Want me to stop?”

“No. I just don’t want the pancakes to burn” she moans and stutters as you gather some of her slick in your digits.

“I better hurry, then” you say, kneeling before her.

Not wasting any time, you start eating her out like it’s your last meal, tongue flattening against her pussy. Wanda pulls your hair, riding your face and reaching back to hold herself steady against the counter.

“You’re just so fucking delicious” you say, desperate to feel more, placing one of her legs over your shoulder to get better access.  As you dive in again, Wanda holds on to your shoulders and pulls your hair, too lost in her pleasure. Your tongue moves in circles around her clit, and you let her ride your face as her orgasm approaches, until Wanda is moaning and panting, finishing with a whine.

“So good for me” you say, standing up and holding her in your arms as she leans against you, her legs unsteady after coming so hard. “All good, baby?”

“More than good” she says, her head lifting to look into your eyes, and you share a lazy kiss, Wanda moaning as she tastes herself. “I love you”

“Love you too” you say, kissing her nose.

“Still hungry?”

“I could definitely have some of those delicious pancakes”

“Coming right up” she says, walking back to the stove. You look at the sway of her hips and spank her, unable to help yourself.

“Amazing” you sigh after the first bite.

“Did you sleep ok?”

“Yeah, I can sleep anywhere and nothing will wake me up, except the sound of my pager. It’s like a Pavlovian response”

“Glad to hear that” she smiles, and you decide to tease her a little bit.

“Yeah, I guess it’s a good thing because you snore”

“I do not”

“Babe, you do” you laugh, and Wanda glares at you. “It’s ok, I think it’s adorable”

She rolls her eyes, and changes the subject. After breakfast, you both go to pick up the twins, and they’re telling you everything they did.

“I hope you didn’t stay up too late” Wanda says.

“We didn’t. But Adam was so loud, he snores. Like you do, Mama” Billy says and you have to hold back your laughter.

“See? I told you you snore” you say when she pinches your arm.

“How do you know my mom snores?” Tommy says, and you blush, the smug gring leaving your face.

“Yeah, Y/N, how do you know?” Wanda says, giggling when you look back at the twins, eager to change the subject.

“We should go to the movies today!”

“Yeah” they agree.

“Well played” Wanda nods, finally getting back home. “Hey, get your bags” she says as the kids try to sneak back home. “That’s more like it”

Billy plops dow on the couch while Tommy greets every piece of furniture. Wanda leans against the doorframe, enjoying the bit and you join her, kissing her temple.

“It’s nice to be home” he says, laying next to his brother.

“Yeah. It is” you agree, looking at Wanda with complete adoration.

You’re both home.

[sunrizef1]

Camera Man and Mystery Girl

Pairing: Jude Bellingham x Norris!Reader

Warnings: Cursing, hate comments

Notes: I am the opposite of locked in

Requested: Yes/No

——

littlenorris

liked by landonorris carlossainz55 and 111,888 others

littlenorris swimsuit season 🐠👙

load comments…

user1 so prettyyyy ☺️

user2 love

littlenorris no u 🫶

user3 my British queen

liked by littlenorris

landonorris put some clothes on lad

littlenorris ur not my dad

landonorris no but I’ll tell him to tell you

littlenorris he likes me better than you

landonorris :(

user4 omg wait is this lando’s sister 🤩

user5 yesss

user6 3 different vacations but she's serving in all of them 🙂‍↕️

liked by littlenorris

user7 we all know who took these photos…

user8 Mr camera man ofc 🙂‍↕️

user1 🤩🤩🤩

maxfewtrell what do I comment on this

littlenorris just press send on an emoji and move on

maxfewtrell ☀️

littlenorris thanks mate

user9 living the life

user10 photographer face reveal when

littlenorris not until he's trained

user10 is he a dog?? 😭

littlenorris acts like it 🤩

user10 lol and the fact he can't even defend himself 😭

liked by littlenorris

user11 she's legitimately fine asl I'm not kidding

user8 its the return of Mr camera man!!!!!

——

littlenorris

liked by trentarnold66 alex_albon and 102,009 others

littlenorris dumplings 🥟💜

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user12 she's so pretty

liked by littlenorris

user13 I love that shade of purple

user15 the outfit and the rings matching the dumplings???

user16 do we think she did that on purpose???

user17 had to have!! Its too perfect 🙂‍↕️

user18 the difference between camera mans hand and y/n’s is so funny

liked by littlenorris

user19 just all the rings and nails and the sleeves vs one bracelet 😭

trentarnold66 🥟

likes by littlenorris

user20 camera man is Trent, dhmu 🫣

user21 that food looks so good 😭

user22 where'd you get your rings???

littlenorris camera man picked them out at a little thrift shop in London 💂‍♂️🌺

user23 they’re adorable

landonorris bring me leftovers

littlenorris I’m in Asia dumbass

landonorris I can wait 🤷‍♂️

user24 she looks so good 🫦

user24 BAEEEEEEE

liked by littlenorris

user25 loml fr fr

mclaren hey queen!

liked by littlenorris

carlossainz55 what is it the kids say? “Hey bestie”?

littlenorris hey bestie boo 🫦

carlossainz55 I feel slightly intimidated

littlenorris good, luv u 🫶

user26 HAWT 🫦

——

judebellingham added to their story

landonorris

Is that my sister????

Where’d her hair go 🤨

judebellingham

Idk mate

It walked away

landonorris

I am going to kill you

judebellingham

Ily2 future brother-in-law

landonorris

Gross

——

littlenorris

liked by landonorris maxfewtrell and 145,007 others

littlenorris blue 🫐

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user27 ATE

liked by littlenorris

user28 SHE LOOKS SO GOODDDDDD

user29 my favorite blueberry 🫐

liked by littlenorris

landonorris oh no… no no no no no no no no no

littlenorris kys, papaya boy

landonorris 😦

user30 my beautiful Smurf queen

liked by littlenorris

user31 who did ur hair bestie???

littlenorris camera man 🙂‍↕️

user32 guys… I love camera man and we’ve never even seen his face 🫣

littlenorris me too girl, dw

user33 never seen someone looks so good with a buzzcut

liked by littlenorris

landonorris keep those clippers to yourself from now on

littlenorris ur next, mullet boy

user34 did she dye her hair just to match the outfit???

user35 I’m gonna hold ur hand when I say this…

user35 she definitely matched her outfit to her hair… not the other way around…

user36 PRETTYYYYY

user37 it actually looks so good, I need camera mans tea fr

liked by littlenorris

oscarpiastri for the record, I think it looks nice

littlenorris thank you, new bsf

user38 queen shit

user39 with the short hair you can tell just how pretty she really is

liked by littlenorris

littlenorris I love you 🫶🥹

user40 hot girl shit

——

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

judebellingham

liked by trentarnold66 kylianmbappe and 12,000,999 others

judebellingham 304

load comments…

user41 he was in Miami during the Miami gp and we didn’t see him at the race??? lol????

user42 so sorry??? What is going on in slide two???

user43 it’s the soft-launch he’s been doing for months and months and months 😭

user43 he stopped doing it for a while in the time he was getting more popular but it seems mystery girl is back 🙂‍↕️

user44 my man my man my man

user45 he’s so fine I actually can’t

user46 why tf was this man not at the Miami gp I’m fuming

user47 he’s dodging these races like his life depends on it

user47 Trent should’ve dragged him to one by now

landonorris it was nice seeing you bro!

judebellingham it was hard to miss you with all that partying 😅

landonorris we’re a bit loud, I’ll give you that 😅

user48 Lando x Jude??? Wasn’t expecting that tbh

user49 slide three???? Fine asllll

user50 mystery girl??? lol??? Who tf is that? 🤨

trentarnold66 🔥

liked by judebellingham

user51 THAT SHOULD BE ME HOLDING YOUR HAND THAT SHOULD BE ME MAKING YOU LAUGH

user52 yeah good cover photo, thanks Jude

user53 now who tf 🤨

rodrygo yes man 👏

liked by judebellingham

user54 do any og Jude fans know who the girl is?

user55 no one has any idea 😭

user55 past glimpses say she might be brunette??? But we’ve also seen blonde???

user55 moral of the story is, no one knows like… at all…😔🤞

user56 my fav Barca player or wtvr

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judebellingham added to their story

user57

Now sir, who took this

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user58

OH MY GOD???

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user59

The return of mystery girl, we love

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user60

Bitch you think ur slick????

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landonorris

Let me tell you

this was the worst thing that could've popped up FIRST on my stories

I did NOT want to see this

judebellingham

Cope

landonorris

Bitch 😒

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littlenorris added to their story

user61

Camera man is back 🙂‍↕️

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user62

Sincerely hope camera boy took this

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user63

Y u write like that

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judebellingham

I'm such a good photographer ofc 🙂‍↕️

littlenorris

Yes u r baby

Tysm 🙂‍↕️

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yourusername

📍Barcelona, Madrid

liked by landonorris oscarpiastri and 3,777,115 others

yourusername whats pottery in Spanish

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user64 ceramica 🙂‍↕️

liked by littlenorris

user65 the jump in likes from last post to this one is actually insane

user66 MY versace brand ambassador

user67 I don't understand how becoming a brand ambassador made her so much more popular???

user68 its a mix of that and dts and some of her photoshoots going viral on tiktol

user68 I also think some people are just now realizing Lando's even got a sister lol

user69 ily queen

user70 in Spain for what

user71 my bilingual icon

user72 girl why is she not responding to a single comment lmfao

user73 she's ghosting us 😭

user74 my new fav Norris

landonorris put ur ass away

liked by littlenorris

user75 not even Lando gets a response???😭 lol???😭

user76 I hate her

user76 overrated asf, just a nepo baby who's only talent is having a pretty face

user77 y'all rly scared her off I can't believe this

user78 usually someone would ask about Mr camera man and she would respond but I don't want to embarrass myself by asking and getting ignored lollll

user79 it girl

user80 but can we talk about the fit 🙂‍↕️🫣

user81 I miss my relatable indie model girlie 🥲

user82 no fr, I can't tell if a social media team got to her and took away her commenting privileges or if she's just been scared away by the amount of people 😔

user83 she doesn't deserve her fame

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judebellingham

liked by vinijr landonorris and 7,888,234 others

judebellingham calma

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user84 yassssssss bilingual king

user85 he's so fine 😭

user86 disappointed in the only picture of him being the first one

user87 every time I swiped I got sadder

vinijr ceramica?? 🪴

judebellingham im a man of many talents 🤞

user88 has Lando found his new bf

user89 for the record, that's Barcelona, not madrid

user90 I take it he's enjoying his summer then

landonorris my man 👊

liked by judebellingham

user91 lol’ing at a footballer having a peaceful summer break instead of partying in Ibiza or something

user92 Jude, Dortmund misses you

user93 where's mystery girl

user94 anyways, how have he and his gf not been papped a single time, I feel like they've been together for like 4 years or something like that

user95 they got together when he was still playing in England so like 5 years

user95 or at least that's when he first posted her/ the earliest his current Insta posts go back

user94 exactly like… ur telling me these 16 year olds were secret enough to not be photographs?? I don't believe you

user96 I believe it was some also-famous teenager who kept it a secret

user96 because why else would a teenager keep their relationship with a Birmingham player a secret

user97 I think maybe y'all think about Jude Bellingham too much

user98 anyway, I'm in so much love with him

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littlenorris added to their story

landonorris

I don't believe you

littlenorris

stfu lad

u can ask him

he lost by so much

landonorris

Yeah idk

He plays for real Madrid

He doesn't seem like the type to lose 🤷‍♂️

littlenorris

he watches you enough to be familiar with the concept by now

you fucking loser

landonorris

Hello?????

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littlenorris added to their story

user99

Lol, Lando being up high somewhere and you being in the crowd is so funny to me idk why 😭

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user100

yassssss my humble queen mingling with the peasants 🌺❤️

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user101

Supporting ur country we love to see it 🙂‍↕️

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user102

Yeahh…

Viva la espana

Sorry queen

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littlenorris added to their story

landonorris

Hope ur having fun in Ibiza bitch

Wish I could've been there but you chose a week where I have work

littlenorris

That was on purpose

Leave me and my bf alone

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user103

Wait we love Spain

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user104

Losing the euros to Spain and then immediately going there??? Lol??!!

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TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

littlenorris

📍Ibiza, Spain

liked by judebellingham landonorris and 12,888,009 others

littlenorris not a lot going on at the moment

load comments…

user105 girl gtfo of here the swifties don't claim you

user106 ugly bitch

user107 and that's why her hair looks like shit

user108 y'all r being so rude to this girl for no good reason

user109 idc I don't like her

user110 lol she's so lovely y'all need to stfu

user111 my beautiful beautiful queen

user112 Jude deserves better

user113 girl shut up, Jude ain't gonna fuck you

user114 trying to act like she didn't just get papped and posting like normal is actually crazyyyy

user115 and if she including him y'all would hate her all the same and try and say she was using him

user115 now what.

user116 I've met her like six times and she is the nicest person on the entire planet. Some of y'all need to get it together.

landonorris I love you

littlenorris I love you too

user117 they're both being nice to each other. Do y'all know how bad the situation has to be for them to be kind to the other?

user118 free my girl from the shackles of these crazy fan girls

user119 no literally, these ones are worse than the dts ones

user120 like she legit got attacked for “flirting” with Daniel at a race when all she did was stand near him 😭

user121 but then they were never seen together again, we lost 🥲✊

user122 both norris’s are washed

user123 fame fuckerrrrrr

user124 they've been together since they were 16 be so fr

user125 I can not stand any of you.

COMMENTS ON THIS POST HAVE BEEN RESTRICTED

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judebellingham

liked by littlenorris landonorris and 15,888,998 others

judebellingham for the past seven years, y/n has been my best friend and the love of my life. She has been by my side since day one and I would give anything to keep her there. She's been here through the ups and the downs, through the wins and the losses and not once has she faltered in her love and loyalty to me and our relationship. I don't think there's ever been a person I had more trust in that wasn't literally related to me. I love her with my entire being and I know I always will.

When we got together, y/n had already gotten a slight taste of what fame could bring with Lando’s involvement in racing. Because of this, we decided to keep our relationship to ourselves and away from the public opinion. It was never out attention to hide from anyone but, instead, to be able to love and have something without anyone trying to ruin it.

That being said, the hate y/n has been receiving these past few days is unacceptable. The only thing she has done is be in a relationship, a fact that has been known for as long as she has been a public figure. The only thing bringing this hate one is the knowledge that the person she loves is me. In case you need it, here is a reminder that you do not know us. You don't know our life or our relationship and this is the reason we were a “secret” for so many years. You can not call yourself a fan of mine if you are sending hate to the person I love most in the world.

And if you're someone who's hoping we break up, trust me, I fully intend on spending the rest of our lives together. So don't hold your breath.

load comments.…

user126 CLOCK THOSE HATER-ASS BITCHES JUDEEEEE YASSSS

user127 oh he's so lovely

user128 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

landonorris no one is rather have marry my sister

judebellingham is this me getting your blessing

landonorris mate you've had my blessing since you got drunk on your birthday and babbled about marrying her for like an hour

judebellingham you need to never tell that story again

landonorris too late 🤷‍♂️ its already in my best man speech

user129 “don't hold your breath” omg welcome back unfiltered footballers

user130 he ate that little one thing

user131 get yourself a man who defends you like this

user132 awww I'm in love with them

user133 oh to be jude bellinghams “best friend and the love of my life”

maxfewtrell hey, i know her

judebellingham she says she doesn't know you

maxfewtrell tell that lying bitch I'm coming for her

user134 I feel so bad for y/n

user135 I feel like Jude definitely recognized that he got zero hate for this

littlelando I love you 🌺💕😭

judebellingham 💕

user136 ok wait they're adorable

user137 AWWWWWW

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littlenorris added to their story

judebellingham

Yeah I am 🙂‍↕️

littlelando

I love you so much you dork

judebellingham

I love you too

Always and forever, don't even worry about it

littlelando

Trust me, i wasnt worried 💕

——

Tags:

@c-losur3 @llando4norris @lokideservesahug @casperlikej @evie-119 @awritingtree

[girlokwhatever]

Emily engstler x short fem please please

emily engstler x short!gf hcs

༯✧ʚɞ°✩₊｡⋆˚⁺ೄྀˊˎ- emily with a short gf,,

— she definitely thinks your height is funny

- teases you about it 24/7

— she’ll say stupid shit like “your height doesn’t define you babe” with the most sarcastic tone ever

- she thinks she’s funny

— you’re not just short though, you’re overall a smaller person

- will compare hand sizes and pretend like her hand is gonna eat yours

- also makes fun of how small your shoes are

— if you come over and knock on the door, when she opens it she’ll pretend like she can’t see anyone

- “hello? is anyone there? oh- there you are babe! i couldn’t see you.”

— will hide stuff from you by putting it on the top shelf

— if she hears you in the kitchen she will sit and wait for you to call out for her help reaching something

— “i’m sitting down and i’m as tall as you”

— you both make stupid jokes about the other’s height though

- “how’s the weather up there?”

- “it’s gonna rain in a second.”

- “what does that even mean?”

- “that i’m about to spit on you.”

— likes when you wear her clothes because they literally swallow you whole like….

- her tshirt is your new fav dress

— complains about the back problems she’s gonna get from bending so far down to kiss you

— she’s so protective of you though seriously

- her hands are staying glued on you to make sure she won’t lose you in a crowd

- it’s her biggest fear

— “yeah? what’re you gonna do? punch my knee?”

- “ok whatever.”

— laughs if she sees someone shorter than you

- you don’t know why she thinks it’s so funny

— even though you’re short you still manage to take up 75% of the bed without fail

— literally dies laughing at every. single. short. joke.

— will rest her arms or head on top of your head

— you make her help you cut your jeans or go get them tailored

— it’s difficult to shower together because you have to keep adjusting the shower head to fit your heights

— you made her do the “guess whose outfit is whose” trend….

- you had to cut her out of your shirt

— she’ll let you sit on her shoulders just for fun

- you love it so much

— always giving you kisses on the top of your head though 🤭🤭

— couples yoga is lowkey highkey fun af

— “babe hold on to me, it’s windy outside and i don’t want you flying away.”

— asks if you got your shoes in the kids section..

— she loves it though because you’re such a good cuddle bug

— lowkey you’re at boob height (you don’t mind)

— she’s always asking you to bend down if she dropped something under the bed or some other piece of furniture

- stares at your butt while you do it

— will hold her hand up and ask if you can reach it

- you always need a running start

— sometimes instead of holding her hand you hold one of her fingers

- it’s just easier

— it’s all fun and games until someone she doesn’t know makes a joke about the height

- then it gets all serious

— “baby, is this the mug you said you lost a few months ago?”

- “oh my gosh yes! where’d you find it?!”

- “on the middle shelf..”

๋࣭ ⭑˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚☾༯✧˖°

yall i love the short!gf x tall!gf trope so you know i had to do this

I HOPE YOU ENJOY!!!

[literaila]

Please give us another day in the life of reader and gojo I love them too much 🙏😔

“gojo satoru.”

satoru hangs his head over the couch armrest, a brilliant smile lighting up his face. “hello, wifey.”

he makes grabby hands at you, but you push him away, frown strong enough to burn down buildings. you’ve lived with megumi for nine years—you’ve learned well.

“why am i getting texts from yaga, shoko, and nanami about you?”

“planning my birthday party?”

“it’s august.”

“must be a big party. now c’mere, i haven’t seen you all day.”

you realize, then, that you’re standing far too close to him. satoru’s arms are egregiously long, and built only to annoy you. he tugs at your pants, entirely too strong.

“stop,” you shake your head at him, slapping his hands away. “not until you tell me what you did.”

satoru huffs, falling limp. “why did i have to do something?”

“are you kidding?”

“shouldn’t you be on my side?” he pouts, sitting up so he can plead at you. “isn’t that in the marriage vows?”

“it’s sickness and health, not stupidity and recklessness.”

“that’s just mean.”

you poke his forehead and he falls backward—very dramatically, just so we’re clear. “tell me what you did, gojo.”

satoru flips around, looking dejected. and maybe it’s a bit cruel to ruin his happy, clingy mood. but you know what else can ruin your mood? getting texted by your coworkers the entire day about your idiotic husband.

“if they’re texting you then you already know,” he mumbles, into the side of the couch, like a child.

you just stare at him, deadpan expression on your face, tapping your foot incessantly.

(it’s the same look you give megumi and tsumiki when they’re fighting over something inconsequential).

“oh, put that away,” satoru complains, waving his hands at you. “that’s only for the kids.”

“when you start acting like an adult, maybe i’ll start treating you like one.”

satoru scoffs. “all of you guys are just lame. you’ve never experienced any joy. don’t you want the children to be happy? can’t you allow them some—“

“i feel joy every time i get to pull your hair,” you tell him, leaning over the couch so that you can do it. “now fess up.”

you’re perched over him, knees on either side of his body, almost sitting on his back. and you can’t get a complete view of his face from here, but you know enough—have had enough satoru—to guess every expression.

he frowns, waiting for something to come same him—like an excuse, or a saving grace—and when it doesn’t, he says: “i don’t see what’s so wrong with taking the first years out for dinner.”

you lean back on the armrest, staring at him. “where’d you take them?”

“twenty-four hour ramen shop.”

you pause, inspecting the side of his face. “when did you take them, satoru?”

“…the night you were gone last week.”

“what time?”

“well, time is relative, so—“ satoru gives you a little, completely guilty, grin. he’s turned around to try and ease the blame with his face.

“what time?” you repeat.

“just like… three-thirty in the morning.”

you slap your forehead and groan automatically. no, really. your body has an instinctual reaction to all things satoru.

“they were hungry!” he protests. “and i missed you. you know how quiet it gets around here. do you just expect me to lay around all by myself?”

“taking the first years to dinner is fine,” you tell him, leaning over to him, hands in his hair, so you’re face to face, making direct eye contact. “nice, even. but they have a curfew, satoru.”

“well, what’s up with that? it’s pointless. we didn’t have a curfew.”

you blink at him. “…yes we did?”

“no, we didn’t,” satoru gives you a condescending look, “we used to leave all of the time.”

“yeah, without yaga’s knowledge. you used to force me to break the rules.”

“no, i didn’t.”

“satoru,” you say, shaking your head. “are you being serious about this? because i can’t tell.”

he pouts. “didn’t you like going out with me?”

you laugh, moving off of him so you can actually sit on the couch. your feet ache after a long day at work, and you really would like to cuddle—after an appropriate amount of scolding, of course.

you don’t say anything and satoru sits up, putting his head on your shoulder in a ridiculous attempt to get you to look at him. “didn’t you?”

“no.”

“then why did we do it at least once a week?”

“because you never take no for an answer,” you tell him, as you try to push his head away. but he does budge, choosing to, instead, dig his nose into your neck.

“c’mon,” his voice is muffled. “you liked it.”

you give up—or give in—and string your hands through his hair, trying not to squirm at the ticklish feeling of his breath. “well, i liked that you were too scared to kiss me.”

satoru snaps back, frowning. “i was not scared!”

“then why did it take you nine years to finally do it?”

he crosses his arms, staring down at you, very unimpressively. “six,” he corrects, basically huffing.

“okay, satoru. six. why did it take you six years to finally kiss me?”

he looks away from you, pouting again.

and you laugh, finally, prying his arms from their position so you can lay on him. satoru goes down easily, his hands finding their place around your shoulders, his legs colliding with yours, connecting like a puzzle.

you kiss just under his jaw, your only version of an i missed you.

really, it’s not like you can tell the man without him imploding from the very idea.

“i wanted to make it count,” he whispers to you, “kissing you.”

“that might be the only thing you’ve done right in our entire relationship.”

he pinches your side, but does nothing more, not bothering to argue again. the kids won’t be home for another two days, so it’s just you.

just the two of you, laying there.

still, you’ve grown used to satoru’s methods of distraction—his sweetness, his ability to talk forever.

“if you ever take the kids somewhere after dark again,” you whisper to him, sweetly, “i’m cutting your hair in your sleep.”

“you like my hair too much,” satoru argues.

“it’ll be a punishment for both of us. i can’t let you be unattended for too long.”

“yeah,” satoru nods his head aggressively. “i guess you cant leave me alone ever again. guess you’ll have to stay here forever.”

you snort into his neck and he keeps you there, smushed against him, not caring if you can breathe or not.

still, you can both clearly hear the “guess so,” you murmur into him.

[wonderjanga]

whats your take on kleptomaniac billy batson/captain marvel 🧐

Freddy has called Billy a klepto on more than one occasion. He’d never known what it meant and brushed it off until he finally gave in and asked.

Freddy: “It means you steal a lot.”

Billy: “Wha- I don’t steal a lot.”

Freddy: “Yeah, yeah you do.”

Billy: “No I don’t.”

Freddy: “Billy, somehow, during this interaction, you successfully whisked away one of my crutches and are now holding it.”

Billy: “Oh.” *stares at it for a solid second before handing it back* “My bad.”

Freddy: “I bet.”

It’s because of this conversation that Billy noticed how much stealing he actually did. He then came to the realization that he didn’t just do this as Billy. Honestly, he’s just surprised none of the JL hadn’t said anything about it yet.

Marvel and Hawkgirl: *talking*

Hawkgirl: *places her mace down nearby*

Marvel: *gets a notification on his comm* “Ah… Sorry Ms. Hawkgirl ma’am, Supes needs me for something.”

Hawkgirl: “Alright then. See you.” *waves*

Marvel: “See you!” *waves back and leaves the room, not before nabbing her mace*

Hawkgirl: “Alright… Maybe I should go ask Diana if she wants to hang out.” *looks around for her lace so she can grab it and leave only to see the mace obviously isn’t there* “Where’d by mace go??” *looks around the room more*

Marvel: *walks back in with an extremely awkward smile and hands her mace back* “Sorry.”

Hawkgirl: *stares a little dumbfounded and watches him go*

He’d actually done something similar to this only with Aquaman’s trident. Though, instead of staring at him as he left, the man simply laughed it off.

or

Marvel and GL: *talking and laughing*

Marvel: *doesn’t even notice he steals Lantern’s ring and continues chatting*

GL: *does notice, puts his hand out for the ring and also continues chatting*

Marvel: *puts the ring in his hand, again, without even realizing*

He’s done this so many times, to so many different Green Lanterns. Not even just the ones from Earth. It’s also not even just the Green Lanterns too, he does it to the entire color spectrum.

or

Supes and Marvel: *chatting and stopping to go their separate ways*

Marvel: *gives Supes a pat on the shoulder and somehow steals the cape without the Kryptonian noticing*

Supes: *walks off*

Marvel: *realizes what he did and is just left standing there thinking he fucked up*

Jon: *rounds a corner, looking for his dad and spots Marvel* “Is that my dad’s cape?”

Marvel: “Hmm? Uh…” *looks at the cape in his hands before looking back to Jon* “Yeah.”

Jon: “Why do you have it?”

Marvel: “I uh… stole it.”

Jon: “Oh.”

*silence*

Jon: “Can I have it so I can give it back?”

Marvel: “Sure?” *hands it back to him*

All the kid heroes were gossiping after this because they wanted to know the true reason Marvel had it. After all, Marvel wasn’t the type to steal, right? And if he was, why would he just admit it?

[nats--sw]

Orange Juice | Leah Williamson

Leah Williamson x reader Where Leah finds you again after a while and decides to help you out This is based on this request Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, alcohol addiction my masterlist

Football was incredible. Ever since you were a kid, kicking the ball around always made you happy. Your parents thought it was just a phase, that by the time you hit your teens, you'd move on to something else. But that never happened.You earned a scholarship in the US and you only returned to England after establishing yourself as a future star in the NWSL. You had a bright future there, but when Arsenal showed interest, you couldn’t say no to the club that made you fall in love with the game. 

By then, you’d already faced your first injury, you ruptured your ACL at 19. 

But that was already in the past, now you were in your new club. 

Leah was the same age as you when you joined the team, so you two clicked right away as the youngest on the team. Then, at 21, you both made your senior debuts for England, Leah as a defender and you as a forward. But shortly after that camp, you tore your hamstring, leaving you out again. 

And the thing with Leah… It wasn’t until you were 23 that, after months of innocent flirting and endless scenes of jealousy, you both finally admitted there was something more between you. It was one of the best moments of your life, you were playing great, Leah was playing great too, you’d just confessed how in love you were, and Arsenal was in the race for the league title. But then your body betrayed you again. 

It happened during a game against Aston Villa in 2021. You were subbed in after 63 minutes, and by the 70th minute, you had to be stretchered off after a bad fall from a collision with one of the players. 

“Y/n!” Leah rushed to see you after the game, her heart racing when she saw you crying in your cubby. “What happened?” she asked, a bit calmer when she noticed the ice bandage was on your ankle and not on your knee. 

“Just a sprain, but a bad one” you said, trying to hold back your tears. With the adrenaline now wearing off, the pain was really hitting you. “I’ll be out for at least six weeks”

“You’ll miss the rest of the season,” Leah blurted out. When she saw you hide your face with your shirt and start crying, she realized her mistake. “Love, I’m sorry” she said, kneeling beside you, trying to comfort you. “You’ll get through this, I promise,” she whispered, taking your hand and kissing it. 

You did get through it, but the following season brought another setback, a meniscus injury this time. 

“England striker, Y/n L/n, will undergo surgery and will miss the next  European Women's Championship.”

The reporter’s voice echoed in Leah’s head, she still remembered it clearly. It has crushed her, but it hurt even more seeing you on the hospital bed, turning your back on her.

Leah was set to captain the Lionesses while you were stuck on the sidelines, unable to play. It wasn’t her fault, but you couldn’t help feeling that pang of envy.

You thought you’d seen the worst of it, but when you watched Leah and the rest of your old teammates lift a trophy in a packed Wembley, it broke you. 

“Y/n! Where’d you go darling?!” Leah’s voice was ecstatic over the phone, with the sound of the girls celebrating in the background. “I tried to find you. You’ve got to come and celebrate with us!”

Leah had no idea you were already back at the house you two shared, the England shirt you wore during the match now lying on the bathroom floor. 

“I wasn’t feeling well” you replied, your voice tired.

“Huh? Is it your knee? Want me to bring something for the pain?”

You felt like a selfish jerk for resenting the person you were supposed to love, but you wouldn’t take away Leah’s moment. You knew she wouldn’t do that to you either. 

“I’m fine, don’t worry” you lied. “Just go enjoy yourself with the girls, you all deserve it.” you said, fighting back tears. But as soon as Leah said goodbye, you lost it. You cried all night and the next morning, watching them celebrate on tv. You were supposed to be there. You cried so much that your eyes were swollen, making it impossible to hide from Leah that you’d been crying. But, lucky for you (if that’s what you call it), Leah didn’t call you for two days, still celebrating. 

Her face was everywhere, on tv morning, noon and night. 

Then, Leah’s sudden fame messed with your relationship. It felt like you were drifting further apart. Interviews, radio shows, tv appearances, her Insta blowing up, it was all too much too fast. She didn’t have time to be with you during your recovery, and you weren’t up for a holiday in Ibiza with her and the rest of your teammates. 

The breaking point came during that time, while she was partying in Ibiza. You two had a huge argument when Leah found out you’d skipped your recovery session. Leah could argue for hours when she was convinced she was right, but with a hangover the size of Europe, your upset voice was the last thing she wanted to hear. 

“Why do you have to be so damn stubborn?!” Leah was yelling into the phone, while Keira sat nearby, clearly uncomfortable listening to the argument. 

“I just needed to stay home, away from everything and get some rest” you explained, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration. 

“If you were going to skip the sessions, you could’ve at least come with me” Leah snapped, pacing back and forth. 

That really got under your skin. Leah wasn’t just upset about you missing the sessions, she was more annoyed that you turned her down. 

“I miss you,” Leah said, but even Keira could hear how empty that sounded.

Things had been off between you two since before the Euro camp even started.

“You miss partying with me, which isn’t the same,” you shot back. Leah had days off before the trip and could’ve spent time with you, but instead, she kept finding excuses to hang out with the girls.

“Are you seriously saying that?” Leah almost shouted. Keira’s eyes widened, thinking Leah must still be a bit drunk to be going off like this.

“You could be here if you missed me. You could’ve come to my sessions, which you know are a nightmare, but instead, you’re partying in Ibiza.”

“Fuck, Y/n. I just won the Euros! Of course I want to celebrate. If you knew how great it felt, you wouldn’t be saying this shit. It’s not my fault your stupid knee decided to mess up.”

That was the last straw for Keira, who quickly grabbed the phone from Leah’s hand.

“Y/n, Leah’s drunk. She doesn’t mean what she’s saying,” Keira said, giving Leah a stern look.

“Tell Leah to go fuck herself,” you snapped.

Leah took that to heart. Twitter was quick to pick up on the videos from that night, showing Leah getting pretty drunk. But what no one knew was that in one of the group chats with the girls, someone had shared a video where Alessia and Ella were laughing, it was silly, and in the background, Leah was dancing way too close with another girl. At first glance, it might not have been obvious, but you knew Leah well enough to recognize her, even in the dark.

When Leah came home from Ibiza, your stuff was gone.

The next season was awkward. Everyone on the team knew there’d been some drama, but they didn’t know the details. It was clear that you and Leah had been together for ages, then suddenly broken up after Ibiza. And some of them knew you had renewed your contract for just one more year.

One day, Lia joined you for lunch, ignoring Leah. “You know she didn’t cheat on me, right?” you said, trying to set the record straight.

There’d been rumors flying around that Leah had cheated, but that wasn’t true. After seeing that video, you confronted Leah when she called asking why you weren’t home. She’d sworn on her mother’s life that even though she’d been with that woman all night, nothing more than a few dances had happened. Leah wasn’t a good liar, so you believed her.

“Yeah,” Lia said, “but Keira spilled some stuff, so I know Leah was kind of an idiot with you.”

“I feel like I messed up everyone’s holiday,” you said with a sigh. You hadn’t talked much to the other girls either, and they’d picked up on your indifference to their Euro win.

“It’s not always easy to celebrate someone else’s big moment,” Lia said, taking another bite.

The next season didn’t get any better for you. Your performance was tanking because of how you were feeling, both physically and mentally, so Leah wasn’t shocked to see your name missing from the England squad list again. 

Leah had already missed the World Cup due to her ACL injury, and while she was in Australia, watching from the stands as her teammates made it to the final, she finally got a taste of how tough it was for you during the Euros. And it hit her, she realized it was probably even harder for you. She was a defender, but you were a striker, the star everyone was watching, the one who scored all the goals. When you got sidelined, replaced by the season’s top scorer and other younger players, it was like you’d been forgotten overnight. That hit hard.

You both messed up, that was clear. Leah knew she could have handled things better, and she was determined to make it right as soon as she got back to England. But fixing things wasn’t going to be easy.

Leah was hanging out with the team, getting ready for the pre-season meeting, when she noticed something odd. You weren’t there, and Jonas had this sad look on his face. Just as she was about to ask where you were, you walked in with crutches and wearing a knee brace. 

“Morning,” you said as you made your way to the center of the room, with Jonas helping you along.

Leah did a double take. You were in sportswear, but not in the Arsenal kit.

“I don’t know if you all heard, but a few weeks ago I blew up my knee,” you said, glancing at Leah with a sad smile. 

Leah’s heart dropped. That meant you’d torn your ACL and meniscus again, plus your MCL.

“And I’d made it clear that I’d only renewed for one more season... last season. So...” you said, taking a deep breath and avoiding eye contact with Leah. “I’m retiring, I mean, professionally… from football. I won’t be renewing.” You fought back tears, quickly wiping your cheeks with your jersey sleeve. “I just came to say goodbye.”

Leah stayed in her chair while the other girls got up to give you hugs and say their goodbyes. Kim and Jonas noticed what was going on and told everyone to give you and Leah some space.

“How bad is it?” Leah asked, still sitting, arms crossed, eyes locked on your knee brace. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t heard about this sooner. She was clearly shocked.

“Well, it’s the second time I’ve messed up this knee,” you said, sinking into a chair a little away from Leah. “The doctor says I’ll never get back to even 60% of my old self. I don’t want to play if I can’t give it my all.”

“You can still do it,” Leah said, her voice firm.

“No, I can’t. My record’s already bad. What club’s gonna want a player who’s always at risk of injury?” you said, rolling your eyes.

“We’ll pay,” Leah insisted.

“You’re not the club,” you replied with a sarcastic smile. “They offered me one more season, but they’ll cut my salary. And I don’t want to be a burden, not anymore.”

“Y/n, an injury doesn’t mean your career’s over,” Leah said, raising her voice a bit. “You just need to get through this and move on. Just like last time.”

“It’s not that simple,” you snapped, annoyed that Leah wasn’t getting it. “Do you really think I can compete with Alessia or Stina? I can barely score more than one goal a month, I can't even run like before, Leah. And that’s my job!”

“But-”

“No!” you cut her off, dropping your crutches in anger. “Just leave me alone. If I want to retire now, that’s my choice. I’m not you!” You cried harder. “Nobody misses me on the team! I’m not you!” 

Leah bit her lip, struggling to hold back her tears.

“I do miss you,” she admitted, wishing she could find the guts to stand up, walk over, and kiss you to show how she felt. But ironically, the fear of losing you forever left her feeling paralyzed.

“I can’t do this,” you said, struggling to stand up. “If you start talking about us, I’ll take back my decision, and I don’t want that. Good luck,” you said, wiping away your tears as you left the room.

That was the last Leah saw of you. Your retirement was lowkey, just an announcement and a few social media posts. Leah found out later that you’d gone back to the States as if you’d never been there at all.

You ended up in the US on a whim, just wanting to forget Leah, Arsenal, England, and football. That had been two years ago. No one knew where you were or cared that you were spending everyday drunk in some bar. 

You were okay with that. 

If it weren’t for a family matter, you’d still be hiding out there.

Your plan was simple: wrap up your stuff, grab some cash to continue your drinking habits of shitty american beer, and then return. But as soon as you landed, you hit the first bar you saw and pretty much stayed there.

It wasn't uncommon for former (failed) footballers to turn into addicts, and you were no different. Although you had attempted to quit drinking a year ago, when your money was running out, but without any support system in the US you couldn’t stay sober for more than a month before heading back to that familiar bar.

You were so drunk you didn’t even worry about running into anyone you knew now back in London. The only detail you vaguely recalled, though you were unsure of its significance, was avoiding blonde women. But you didn’t think twice about the men.

“Jacob,” Leah said, still in shock. She’d been sleeping when her brother called, saying he was sure he’d seen you drinking heavily in a bar he’d just arrived at with his friends.

“Glad you’re here,” Jacob said, guiding her to where you were. “She didn’t see me, I wasn’t sure how she’d react, so I wanted to wait until you got here.” He glanced at you as he spoke.

Leah’s heart sank when she saw you. It was definitely you, but you looked totally different, completely out of it and about to pass out on the bar.

“I’ll take her home,” Leah said quietly, making her way towards you. “Y/n,” she called softly, placing a hand on your shoulder. When you didn’t respond, Leah shook you gently and called your name again. “Y/n.”

You barely opened your eyes, but you recognized her immediately. “Lee,” you mumbled, and tears started rolling down your cheeks, though you didn’t really know why.

It wasn’t the first time you’d cried while being drunk, and it wasn’t the first time you’d cried for Leah while being drunk either.

“Hey,” Leah said, gently wiping the tears from your face with her thumbs. She didn’t remove her hands, as you were barely able to hold your head up. “Let me help you.”

Leah signaled to Jacob with a nod to help lift you from the other side. As they carried you to the car, Leah couldn’t wrap her head around what was going on. She’d never seen you this drunk before, not even when you used to drink occasionally during your time together.

With Jacob’s help, Leah got you into the back seat of the car and drove quickly to her home, which had also been yours a few years back.

Leah was totally stuck on what to do now. If it were up to her, she’d have tossed you in a hot bath to get rid of the alcohol smell, but she didn’t want to risk you passing out in the tub.

So, she just put you in the guest room. She placed a towel on your pillow, took off your jacket and shoes, and got you settled in bed. She also left a glass of water and some painkillers for when you woke up.

Next morning, when Leah woke up, the first thing she did was check on you, but she was surprised to find the room empty. The water and pills were still there, She freaked out a little, she couldn’t let you slip away again, not this time. She rushed downstairs and, while searching for her car keys, she noticed the kitchen was a mess. All the cupboard doors were open, and there was broken glass on the floor. Then she saw that the door to the backyard was wide open.

Trying to be quiet, she headed outside and found you sitting on the small terrace you’d set up years ago, holding a bottle of wine with your eyes shut.

“I’m awake,” you mumbled without bothering to open your eyes when you heard the door.

“It’s… 9 am” Leah said, pulling out her phone, her voice tinged with worry. “Isn’t it a bit early to be drinking?”

“It’s for the hangover,” you replied, taking a swig straight from the bottle. Leah looked around, noticing there was no glass or cup in sight. “Sorry, the glass broke when I grabbed it”

Leah stood there with her hands on her hips, looking worried. She had no idea where to start.

“Do you even remember how you ended up here?” Leah asked, stepping closer. She noticed you were shivering, probably from the morning chill. Without hesitation, she took off her hoodie and draped it over your shoulders, relieved when you didn’t push her away.

“Ah… I don’t really remember,” you said, trying to force a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

“What’s going on with you?” Leah asked quietly, almost afraid of the answer.

You shrugged and took another swig from the bottle. Leah was taken aback by how sober you looked despite the drinking. It seemed your tolerance was crazy high.

“Why did you leave?” Leah asked, gently placing her hand on your knee. At the touch, you jumped up, but the dizziness hit you hard, almost making you fall over. Leah quickly helped you back into your seat. “I won’t touch you again,” she said, holding up both hands as if to show she meant no harm. “I’m just asking you not to run away.”

You stared at Leah for a few seconds, noticing her glazed eyes and the slight tremble in her lower lip. You wanted to get out of there and avoid the whole sad scene, but you knew you wouldn’t get far and you didn’t even have any money left.

“I don’t want to answer any questions,” you muttered, staring at the ground.

“I need to ask a few things,” Leah said, almost reaching out to take your hand but stopping herself just in time. “I haven’t seen you in two years. Haven’t heard a thing from you.”

“That was the point. You had enough going on with your stuff. I didn’t want to add to it,” you said, trying to avoid her eyes.

“Damn it, Y/n, I never stopped caring about you. Not when we broke up, and not when you disappeared,” Leah said, quickly wiping away a tear. “Yeah, we messed up, but we could have fixed things back then, and we still can-”

“No, Leah.”

“Yes, we can-”

“Don’t say that. I’m not sober enough to deal with this,” you said, feeling frustration creeping in.

“Then go take a shower, and we’ll talk,” Leah said, her frustration matching yours. Why did you have to be so stubborn all the time?

“I’m not sober,” you repeated, stressing each word and holding her gaze, hoping she’d get it.

Leah swallowed hard, taking in the mess you were. Your hands were still shaking, and even though she thought your pale skin might just be from the morning, your flushed cheeks and the redness on your nose told a different story. The dark circles under your eyes were deep, making you look worse than she’d imagined.

Leah always thought she was the heavy drinker between the two of you. Her cabinet was stocked with all kinds of alcohol, and she’d always found it odd how you’d cringe whenever she brought home a new bottle. She remembered you mentioning a relative with addiction problems back when you weren’t even together, but she never thought it would hit you too.

“Have you… have you tried to quit?” Leah asked, her voice cracking as she grasped the seriousness of the situation. You nodded slowly, looking down, clearly embarrassed. “Could you try again?” she asked.

This time, you shook your head. “I can’t.”

“I can help you,” Leah said, determined.

“I don’t want your help,” you said frustrated, trying to get up again but failing.

“Y/n, look at yourself,” Leah said, exasperated. “You can’t even stand. Please, let me help you.”

You reluctantly agreed to let her help, mostly to get her to stop pushing. You figured that if you said yes and she saw how messed up you were, she’d leave you alone. What you didn’t remember was how stubborn Leah could be when she was set on something.

Leah couldn’t believe she actually managed to get you to go to rehab, but it seemed like it was working after a while. According to the doctor, you were doing great, really putting in the effort in your sessions and activities. So, it didn’t take long for you to get the green light for a day out, and of course, Leah was the one you’d spend it with.

“Good morning,” Leah said softly when she saw you. It was wild how you were starting to look more like yourself again.

“Morning,” you replied. It was weird to think that just a few months ago you were alone in the States, drinking day and night. And now Leah was here, smiling at you again. It was something you hadn’t realized you’d missed so much.

“I’ve got a surprise for you,” Leah said when you two were in her car. “I checked with the doctor because it might be a... sensitive topic for you.” Instantly, your heart raced in panic. Leah noticed your breathing quicken and gently placed her hand on your knee while steering with the other. You placed your hand over hers, and she didn’t hesitate to intertwine your fingers. “Just relax,” she said. “I think you’ll like it. And if I’m wrong, just let me know, and we’ll forget about it. No big deal.” She stopped at a red light, bringing your hand to her lips and giving it a gentle kiss.

It was something that had always helped you chill out. Even though you weren’t together anymore (not physically, at least. Both of you knew those feelings were still there, just waiting for the right time), it still felt good.

When Leah parked the car and you looked out the window, your heart raced again. You were right in front of a football pitch. Leah knew how much your struggles with the end of your career were a trigger for your addiction, so being here wasn’t exactly ideal.

“Leah, I don’t think-”

“Shh,” she said, gently taking your hand to help you out of the car. “Just give it a few minutes, okay? If it’s too much, we’ll head back.” She cupped your face, locking eyes with you.

You nodded, holding her hand tightly. Leah didn’t say anything, but she could feel the tension in your grip.

You walked together to the middle of the field. It wasn’t as big as the one you used to play on, but seeing it made you smile a bit, remembering the good times you had there with Leah.

“I should’ve been more supportive, you know,” Leah said as you both settled on the grass, still damp from the morning dew. “After my injury and the World Cup, I finally realized how lonely you must’ve felt. Part of it was my fault.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” you replied. “You didn’t owe me anything.”

“You were my girlfriend. I should’ve been there for you, giving you the support you needed,” Leah said, her tears starting to fall. You hated seeing her cry; it always made you feel awful.

“I was tough to deal with too. I didn’t make it easy for you,” you admitted, resting your head on Leah’s shoulder.  She turned and kissed your forehead without hesitation.

“Do you think we can get through this?” She whispered.

“I think we’re on the right track.”

Leah nodded and after a few minutes of silence, she stood up. “Don’t move,” she said, running back to the car. She came back with a mini football, the kind you can hold in one hand. “Wanna play?” she asked with a small, hopeful smile.

You laughed, shaking your head, but took her hand to stand up. The feel of the ball in your hands was weird but you couldn’t say no to Leah.

“Let’s warm up before my friends get here,” she said with a smirk. You didn’t get what she meant at first, but the excitement of kicking a ball again had you too pumped to question it.

Leah’s friends turned out to be a bunch of 12 year olds who had joined her every week to play football together. There were about seven girls, with the oldest being 13. She was the one who kept glancing at you the whole time.

“Excuse me,” the oldest girl said as they were about to leave after the game ended. “You’re Y/n L/n, right?” she asked, eyes locked on you.

“Jackie!” Leah hurried over and tried to cover the girl’s mouth. “What did I say about the questions?”

Leah kept talking to the girl, but you couldn’t catch what she was saying. Jackie was 13 now, but she was only 11 when you retired, and probably no older than 7 when you were at your peak. It touched you that she recognized you.

“Yeah, that’s me,” you said, holding Leah’s hand for support. “What’s up?”

“Your hair is longer and darker now,” Jackie said, eyeing you closely. “And your face is a bit different, but I remember when you kicked that penalty into the goal. I saw it in person!”

“Jackie,” Leah said again, but you pulled on her arm.

“Do you really remember?” you asked.

“I do! I saw you play. My sister took me to that game. Even though Arsenal lost, your penalty was the best.” Jackie said, her eyes shining.

Leah watched silently, a big smile on her face as she saw you light up with that familiar spark you’d lost over the years. She let you have a moment with Jackie, impressed by how you were reconnecting with your past. It made her even more certain about the idea she’d been planning to share with you.

The next weekend, you both were back out on the field with the girls. You spent some time teaching Jackie a few tricks. Your stamina wasn’t what it used to be, so Leah gave you a break. 

“I wish I had the energy of a 12 year old,” Leah said, flopping down next to you on the grass and handing you a bottle of water, but you shook your head.

“I’m good,” you said, pulling out a bottle of orange juice from your bag. Leah looked at you with a raised eyebrow.

“But you don’t like orange juice,” she said, wrinkling her nose as you popped the cap and the citrus scent hit the air.

“You don’t like it,” you said with a grin. “I never hated it.”

“You never bought it when we lived together,” Leah pointed out.

“That’s because you didn’t like kissing me with juice on my lips,” you teased, sticking your tongue out at her. “You were always so picky, even with that.”

Leah shook her head, remembering how she’d pull away in the middle of a kiss if she tasted something like orange juice on your lips.

“I’ve been drinking a lot of orange juice lately because plain water gets boring,” you said, putting the bottle away and sitting up straight. You glanced at Leah, who seemed like she wanted to say something.

"Your doctor mentioned you're about to be discharged," Leah said, glancing at you with a curious look.

"Yeah," you replied, a bit embarrassed. "I wanted to talk to you about that too." Leah raised an eyebrow, curious. "I don't have anywhere to stay, and my family's all moved away from London. And I need to keep up with the weekly therapy."

"You can stay with me," Leah said before you could even ask. 

"Thank you," you said with a relieved smile, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders.

"Can I confess something?" Leah asked, fiddling with the bottle in her hands.

"Sure."

"I'm afraid you'll leave again," she admitted, biting her lip. "You have no reason to stay, and I don’t want you to be alone again," she added, reaching for your hand and intertwining your fingers. "That’s why I've been thinking about something..."

You felt a bit panicked, knowing what Leah could be thinking.

"I’m not going to play again-" you started, but Leah cut you off.

"I know, honey," she said, stroking your hand with her thumb. "But I've been thinking...these girls need someone to teach them," she said, nodding toward the group of girls who were too busy fighting over the ball to rest.

"No, Leah-"

"Shh, let me finish," Leah said with a laugh. "It won’t be professional. It'll start as an amateur academy. We just need to build a dressing room, add a few more seats, and recruit some more girls."

"Leah, I'm not a coach," you said, shaking your head. "And running an academy, even an amateur one, costs money."

"I’ve got the money," she assured you. "I'm already talking to some local sponsors. And you’re great with the girls, you’ve got experience, and it’ll keep you busy doing something you still care about, even if you won’t admit it right now."

"I don’t know..."

"Just give it a shot," Leah said, bringing your hand to her lips and giving it a gentle kiss. "If you don’t like it, we’ll figure out something else."

You took a deep breath, feeling unsure but finally nodded. "Alright, I'll give it a try."

Leah was feeling a mix of nerves and excitement. After all the hard work, the tough times, and a few relapses along the way, today might be the day you could finally move back to her place. But she’d spent the night taking away every trace of alcohol from the house. Pouring out all those liquor bottles, which had cost her a fortune, felt a bit like a sacrifice, but knowing she was doing it for you made it almost satisfying. She’d also packed up all the wine glasses and stashed them in the attic, figuring they’d be better off out of sight for a while. 

She’d gone a bit overboard with the shopping too, piles of chocolate, different coffee flavors, and gallons of orange juice to cover any cravings you might have. And she’d moved her medals, trophies, and awards into her bedroom. She figured it would be better to ease you back into things slowly, rather than hitting you with the full weight of her football career all at once. 

“Good morning,” Leah said as soon as she saw you dragging your suitcase in.

You greeted her with a kiss on the cheek, and she offered to put your suitcase in the car while you settled into the passenger seat.

“I’m really nervous,” you admitted, shifting uncomfortably in the seat.

Leah didn’t say much, just reached out her hand. You took it without hesitation, intertwining your fingers with hers for comfort.

“I think it’s best if we skip the game with the girls today,” Leah suggested, seeing you nod in agreement. “Alright then, let’s go home.”

The drive to the house was quiet, neither of you saying a word. Leah held your hand the whole time, even after you two stepped inside.

"I got the guest room ready for you," Leah said, setting your suitcase on the floor.

"Will you come with me?" you asked. Leah nodded immediately, following you to the room. She smiled as you flopped onto the bed. "God, I missed sleeping in a good bed," you said, then looked at Leah, who was leaning against the door frame. "Come here," you said, patting the bed.

Leah kicked off her shoes and lay down next to you. She was a little surprised when you rested your head on her chest, but her hand instinctively went to your hair, stroking it gently. Throughout your rehab, you had been close, but Leah always worried about moving too fast, unsure about what the future held for both of you.

"You've changed a lot," you murmured, closing your eyes and smiling at the scent of Leah's shirt. "I like this side of you."

"What side?" Leah whispered.

"The side that takes care of me. I like you taking care of me."

Leah bit her lip, feeling it tremble a little. "I should have taken better care of you before. Maybe then you wouldn't have left."

"I didn't give you the chance. I didn't want to hear from you."

You both stayed silent for a few minutes, Leah holding you tighter.

"And now? Will you give me a chance to take care of you?"

"I’m doing that already," you said, lifting yourself up a little to look at her. "Thank you for not letting me leave again." You gave her a soft, short kiss on the lips.

Leah didn't ask for more, didn't move her hands or deepen the kiss. That small contact was enough for her. Trying again would be a slow process, and she didn't want to go back to what you had before. She wanted to start fresh, avoiding the mistakes of the past.

After almost two months, things were looking up. 

When you woke up, Leah wasn't in bed. You weren’t sharing a room yet, but she spent most nights with you, and last night had been one of those.

After showering, you headed to the kitchen and found Leah putting things away in the fridge. 

"Morning," you said, startling her. She quickly shut the fridge door and looked at you with wide eyes. "Everything okay?" you asked, walking towards her curiously.

"Uh, yeah, everything's fine," she said, taking a step back and letting out a curse as she bumped into the fridge.

"What are you hiding?" you asked, narrowing your eyes at her.

"N-nothing," she said, trying to squirm out of the situation, but you were quicker. You cornered her against the fridge. "Shouldn’t you be going? It's your first day of training with the girls," she reminded you.

"I can’t leave without my good morning kiss," you said, watching her features soften a little.

"I haven’t brushed my teeth," she lied, standing on her tiptoes to keep you from kissing her. She was definitely hiding something.

For a moment, you thought it might be something with alcohol. You'd noticed that all the alcohol in the house was gone, even the liquor filled candy Leah used to eat. But it was early in the morning, and Leah wouldn't be drinking anything with alcohol at that time. You trusted her, she was fully committed to your recovery. On the rare occasions she had a drink, she’d brush her teeth multiple times before kissing you. 

Leah thought she'd kept it a secret, but you'd caught her almost drinking the extra mint mouthwash.

So, it was highly unlikely that was the reason she didn’t want to kiss you.

"I'll be mad if you don't kiss me," you said, playing your last card.

Leah rolled her eyes but leaned in, brushing her nose against yours before giving you a short kiss. When she felt your tongue graze her lip, she knew she was caught.

"Leah!" you exclaimed, patting her shoulder. "You were drinking my orange juice!"

"I was thirsty," Leah laughed. "I'll grab some more juice for you, I promise," she said, wrapping her arms around your waist. She tried to kiss you again, but you turned your face away, causing her lips to land on your cheek. "Hey, there's no more juice left. Your only chance to have some is kissing me," she said, still holding your waist.

"I hate you," you said, shaking your head before finally kissing her. "You're not supposed to like that juice."

"I think I got so used to tasting it when I kiss you that I've started to like it," Leah said with a grin.

"Did you really drink all my juice?" you asked, almost sadly, resting your head on Leah's shoulder.

"Of course not, love," she said, stroking your back. "I think I bought all the orange juice in London. I can't have my girl without her daily glass of juice."

"Thank you," you murmured, kissing her again.

"I should say that," Leah whispered back.

[macfrog]

If you ever feel up to it - a little short story from the scom universe about reader and Joel deciding to have a second baby or finding out they're pregnant for the second time would warm my cold dead heart <3

i am. so. sorry. for the word count on this i truly do not know what happened. but i had a lot of fun with it, so. hopefully y'all do, too. happy fathers day! x

jellybean ~4k words | series masterlist warnings: pregnancy symptoms (feeling and being sick, horniness + sleepiness. aka me even when not pregnant), 99% just duckie vs her mom

Duckie spills the secret on a Friday.

The morning is lazy, slow. The breathing of the sea across a plain of beach. Your fingers sift through her hair like the breeze through sun-bleached pages. The way she and the sun tint the room peach.

Sarah sprawls out across the spot still warm on her dad’s side of the bed. She’s in a habit of waking up early to sneak through to your room, lift the bottom of the covers, and army crawl between your bodies.

Joel’s in a habit of stirring to the heat of her at his back, her tiny toes at his spine, and turning to scoop her in one arm. They sleep curled into one another, mouths catching flies.

This morning, though, she’s up to something. She brought a secret.

She’s flat-out on her stomach, pens scratching at the paper. There’s the scent of cherry and lemon and green apple tangling in the air. Taut frown on her face, tongue poked with concentration. She looks just like her dad.

She pauses and looks up at you. “What color is this part?” she asks, dabbing at the blank hubcap.

“Silver,” you reply, fixing the cap back onto the grape pen before it stains your sheets.

She huffs. “I don’t have silver, Mama.”

You tap on the page. “Daddy’s wing mirrors are black, but you did ‘em green. The colors don’t matter, do they?”

But it’s seven a.m., and you’re sharing only the red jellybeans for something of a pre-breakfast snack (the four-year-old’s idea), and you’re exhausted despite having slept the full night, and she keeps halting any time Joel’s humming quietens – just in case he spoils his birthday surprise.

She hunkers down with the lemon pen to nail the emblem of his truck, and you figure – color is just the least of it. Truthfully, to your kid – and so, to you, too – nothing has ever mattered more.

You cup her cheek and lift her gaze back to meet yours. “How about I grab you a glitter pen today, just for the wheels?”

She grins. Little milk teeth, gappy and gummy. Peach fuzz cheeks, sweet as the rest of her, a perfect fit in the palm of your hand.

I love you I love you you’re my whole world I love you, you want to say.

Instead: “Only if we tidy your room later. Deal?”

“Deal, Mama,” Sarah giggles, and her little ink-stained hands splay out across the page again.

She scribbles only a few more splotches of color before you both notice it.

The sudden silence.

The water’s stopped running. The shower screen rattles as he pulls it back. Dripdripdrip from the showerhead straight down to the empty basin.

Sarah twists to watch Joel’s disembodied arm blindly grab for a towel folded on the sink. It whips off out of sight, and he calls through from the bathroom.

“Duckie? You still there?”

“Gogogo,” you whisper, helping your daughter cover her dad’s drawing with blank sheets. “Leave the jellybeans, Duck, save yourself!”

She finds the entire thing hysterical. Swinging her masterpiece under one arm, two fistfuls of rainbow pens, springing from the mattress like it suddenly caught flame. She throws herself from the foot of the bed and dashes across the hall to her own room, candy scattering in her wake.

Joel’s head cranes around the doorframe. “Where’d she go?”

You smile, shrugging. Chewing innocently on a jellybean. “That’s funny. She was here a second ago.”

He pads over to the bed, towel slung loose around his hips. Smirks, when your hungry eyes descend his figure – the bearlike shape of him, all muscle and fur, toned where he needs it but soft where you want it.

He cages over you, dark hair dripping with the smell of citrus, skin sticky.

His lips are like velvet against yours. Tongue still singed with coffee. A low growl from his throat when you lean forward to lick into his mouth.

“Smell so goddamn good,” you murmur, dipping your head to bury into the crook of his neck.

His beard is fuzzier when it’s damp, natural masculine musk melded with the fresh soap and rich aftershave he uses. All honey and oatmeal, mixed with a woodsy scent – and fuck, it’s intoxicating. Moreso than usual – stronger and sexier.

You take his hands and lower them to your hips, letting his fingers knot around the baggy material of your – his T-shirt. Tugging on it, exposing the slip of delicate lace on your hips.

“Darlin’,” Joel warns, “we’re late. We still gotta drop Duckie off – If she walks in –”

You groan, huffing back into the mattress. The weight between your legs ripples over the horizon, pulses into weak nothing.

Joel fixes the shirt back down to your thighs just as the thunder of his daughter’s footsteps rumbles back into the room.

Tonight, he breathes, slicking some of the hair from his face.

You grin, taking his hand to pull yourself back up.

Sarah materializes in the doorway, a lingering half-girl. Smiling from behind the frame, twisting the ball of her foot into the floor.

“Hi, Duck,” Joel says, still playing with your fingers.

“Hi.”

“You look guilty.”

Her grin widens. She totters into the room, launches herself onto the bed, and nuzzles into your side. She squirms when Joel digs his fingers into her waist.

The beats of her laughter drum against your ribs, the same way her fists used to when she lived inside you.

“Alright.” You cradle her, her little head tipping back to wake the rest of Austin up with her squeals of glee. “Are we ready for some actual food, now?”

Joel chuckles, reaching for his mug.

Sarah nods from your lap. Her eyes drift down to the print on your tee. “Mama?”

“Mhm?”

“Do they like jellybeans?”

You frown. “Does who like jellybeans?”

Her finger prods lightly into your tummy. “The baby.”

Joel chokes, splattering coffee into his fist. He slams the mug down, pounds his chest clear of liquid.

“There’s no – Jesus, Joel,” you swipe mocha flecks from the sheets, “Told Sarah to be careful with her pens and then you spray coffee all over the…”

Sarah rolls off, cackling. “Silly Daddy,” she hoots, leaping on the bedroom floor.

“Hey,” you usher her over to the door, “Why don’t you go pick out what you wanna wear today? I’ll be right behind you. Quit tryna give your dad a heart attack, okay?”

“The baby, Mama,” she’s repeating, walking like a little convict. She turns over the threshold to her room like it’s a cell, her pink pajama uniform and guilty expression to go with it. Still laughing, swallowing the ticklish bursts when she notices you’re shaking your head.

“There is no baby.” You kneel before her, repeating, “No baby. Just you. How about your T-shirt with the butterflies?”

It seems to distract her enough. Thank Christ. She gasps, inspired, and twirls off to find the tee.

“Fucking hell,” you sigh, pushing back to your feet.

Joel’s flapping the sheets when you slip back into your room, still clearing his throat. Half-dressed: a white T-shirt over his broad chest and a pair of black boxers. Soaked hair clinging to the back of his neck and drying in flicks across his forehead.

Jesus, you want to pull him back over you and let him have his way.

You close the door over and spin, hands on your hips. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Me?” he croaks. “Did you hear what she just said?”

“You’ve known this kid for four years, Joel, you really can’t tell when she’s fucking with you? She’s my kid, keep up.”

“Just seemed an awfully –” he thumps his chest again, “– awfully specific thing to say.”

“She’s in a phase I think,” you reply, catching the pillow he tosses across. “She’s telling stories. Last week, her pre-K teacher congratulated me our supposed wedding. Asked to see pictures of the Mickey Mouse officiant.”

“Jesus,” he grumbles. “She really bought that?”

You mimic the breezy voice: “Sarah was very convincing.”

Joel scoffs. “I don’t know if I can take a lying phase and a copying phase at the same time. Every goddamn word I say, she’s gotta repeat it.”

“She idolizes you,” you straighten the sheets, “I think it’s endearing.”

“Hm. Just wait until it’s you.”

He wanders around the bed, pulls your back against his chest. His arms cross over your tummy, lips pressing into your shoulder where his shirt has slipped.

“How much harder would two be?” he mumbles into the bare skin.

“Two Sarahs?” You scoff.

Joel laughs. “Yeah, you’re right. I forget she runs on chaos and jellybeans.”

“Yup,” you turn in his arms, linking yours behind his neck, “And there ain’t no point in talking about it anyways, because I am not fucking pregnant.”

He rolls his forehead against yours, stealing bristly kisses. “Okay.”

“I’m not, Joel.”

“I believe you, baby.”

Sarah’s bedtime is a liberal eight, eight thirty on weekends. She likes to sit up, lodged between you and Joel on the couch, and help pick the movie you two will watch once she’s in bed.

Once – and only once – Joel tried to fool her by pretending to play her choice, then switching as soon as she went down.

The kid quizzed him on the movie the next morning. He failed. She’s never forgotten.

Tonight, though, Joel’s out. Some game that you know and care too little about sports to learn the name or importance of. He’s with some buddies at the local bar, probably nursing his second beer in as many hours, and counting down the minutes until he can come home to his girls.

Sarah snores soundly, slumped at your side as though butter wouldn’t melt. The flicker from the TV across her face, the gentle mumbling of the voices onscreen. Her hands limp in her lap, fingers idling in a pink snack bowl.

You admire her, stealing a piece of her popcorn. Teeth grinding down when you remember dishing it for her earlier, hearing her curious voice ask whether or not the baby likes popcorn more than jellybeans.

Nope, you sang, tossing a handful in your mouth as you passed her the bowl. Imaginary babies don’t eat popcorn.

She snorted (which unnerved you, because what the fuck is this kid finding so funny?), and followed you to the living room so close that you could feel her toes at your heels.

Some of the kids in her class have siblings. Some older, but mostly younger. It’s the only fucking explanation, the only thing that explains this sudden interest in the real estate of your uterus.

She’s going through a phase, you tell yourself, suckling on popcorn. But then – how many fucking phases do kids go through? Which phases did you go through?

Barney & Friends. That was a fucking phase. Refusing to leave the house without the hoodie your mom bought you from the Museum of Natural History, even in the height of summer. Ketchup and broccoli, your boyfriend at seventeen, frisbeeing your neighbor’s newspaper and aiming for his flowerpots.

Phase, phase, fucking phase.

Does she know something you don’t?

…No. You took a test just last week. Shut up. Stop letting the kid into your fucking head.

Joel’s keys jangle on the other side of the door, shunting into the lock with a sound which stills your brain.

You tilt your head over the back of the couch, your man’s beard tickling your nose as he kisses you. “Evening.”

“Missed you,” he whispers against your lips. He straightens and tugs the jacket from his shoulders. “She not in bed yet?”

“She fell asleep down here,” you reply. “I got too tired to carry her up.”

He caresses your forehead, big pillowy palm. “You feelin’ okay?”

“It’s been a long day,” you grumble.

Joel smiles. He flops down onto the couch beside you, reaching over to stroke Sarah’s head.

You roll, solid as a rock, curling into his side. “She keeps saying it, Joel. She keeps fucking saying it.”

His chest jumps, tectonic plates moving with a laugh. “You’ve met your match, honey. Produced a professional little shit.”

“One of the other moms from her class is pregnant,” you mumble. “That’s gotta be it, right? That’s where she’s getting it from?”

“Maybe,” Joel muses. His fingers link with yours. “Why don’t you take a test anyways? Settle it in your mind?”

It startles you awake, even if only enough to prove the fucking point.

“No, Joel!” you hiss, body jerking. “If I take a test, and it turns out negative – which it will – she wins! My four-year-old fooled me. No,” you pluck spilled popcorn from your lap, pinging it back into the bowl, “I know this kid. I gave birth to this kid. She is not fucking winning.”

“Alright, baby,” he coos, “it’s okay. I won’t let the four-year-old fool you.”

You glower. “Thanks, asshole.”

He chuckles. “She’d make the best big sister, though. She would,” he insists, when you huff back against his chest. “She’d love being the oldest. Get to be bossy, get to call the shots. Get to protect them, no matter what.”

Your voice feels so small, as inquisitive as your daughter’s when you blink up at him. “Were you protective over Tommy?”

“Oh, yeah. I mean, he was annoying as all hell – and I told him so – but anyone else had anythin’ to say about him, and – well, they had me to deal with.”

“Big scary Joel Miller,” you whisper, yawning into his shirt. “I knew him once.”

“Mhm,” he rumbles, “You sure did.”

You look up again, blinking all doe-eyed and dreamy. Already half-asleep.

“He never scared me,” you whisper.

Joel smiles.

“Well, you scared the hell outta him.”

Saturday morning, you wake to an empty bed. No snoring man, no scribbling girl. Just you – a starfish on the mattress. Bathing in waves of late-morning sun, sheets for coral, body as heavy as though you really are at the bottom of the ocean.

Her giggles carry all the way upstairs. Sarah. They surf into the room on a sunbeam, sounds like bubbles which shatter and sprinkle over your aching body.

You smile into Joel’s pillow, breathing in the smell of him, and peel your eyes open.

It’s ten thirty. Definitely – you blink three times and rub at your eyes, just to make sure. Ten thirty, and something’s swirling behind your navel. Something that sharpens, sours, when you push yourself upright.

“Oh, shit,” you rasp, and throw yourself across the room.

You barely make it, collapsing in a heap at the toilet. Your stomach empties in seconds; three heavy, painful gags and your head is in the bowl, choking on last night’s dinner.

“Motherfucker,” you spit, gasping, “Oh, Jesus.”

You’re sick. You’re just sick. Sarah probably caught something from pre-K, passed it on without even knowing. And, hey – you feel better, now that that happened.

You’re just sick. Nothing else.

“Mornin’,” Joel calls, watching as you stagger into the kitchen.

Sarah mimics his drawl. “Mornin’, Mama.”

“Hi, Duckie.” You crumple into the chair beside her, shoulders hunched. The smell of burnt toast and grape juice twists up your nose, and you suck in a slow breath.

Joel sweeps a hand over your forehead. He tips your jaw up to face him. “You alright? Thought we heard running.”

Sarah rips a slice of toast in two. She stares at the fluffy insides, the jam dripping from the tear. The sight of it lifts the hairs on your skin, the gloopy mess splattering onto her plate.

“Just feel kinda…funny,” you slur, turning away.

“Funny? Funny how?”

“Funny how?” your daughter parrots.

You shrug. Every word, every inhale makes you feel even more nauseous. “Probably just ate something.”

“Heard that one before,” Joel drones, and you throw him a flat look.

Sarah licks the jam from her fingers. She holds her tiny hands up to her dad, snorts when he pretends to bite at them.

“Eat your breakfast, Duckie,” he says then – in his Dad voice. And in something softer, kinder: “Can I make you somethin’?”

You swat the idea away, but it’s already churning in your stomach again. “Just gotta – get over whatever it – is.”

The table falls silent. Joel and Sarah stare blankly at one another. When you turn to look at your daughter, she’s staring straight back. Smirking.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you clip, wincing again at the dribbling jam.

“Alright,” Joel utters, “I think you oughta take a test now.”

“That is not what this is,” you groan, petulantly pushing up from your chair.

He takes your hand, steadying you. “No? I was thinking about it, baby, and I don’t think we’ve been safe enough to be so sure.”

You dump your golden toast in the trash and turn, crossing your arms. Your shoulders lift. “We’re not being any less safe than we have been the last four years.”

“Safe,” Sarah says, and Joel holds a finger up.

“No,” he tells her. “No. Not that word. Go back to funny.”

She beams at him. “You’re funny, Daddy.”

He sighs, pacing over. “Look,” he lowers his plate into the sink, “I’ll take Duckie to the park. Let you rest up, give you a quiet house for the morning. But darlin’, if you’re not better by tonight, you’re takin’ a test.”

You grimace. “But she –”

“I know –” he grits his teeth, “– I know you don’t want her to be right. But I want you to be okay, more ‘n I want to prove my child wrong. Like it or not, you’re taking a damn test.”

Your eyes flit across to the kid swinging her legs in her chair, the splotch of jam down her Peppa Pig T-shirt. Your greatest accomplishment and your biggest challenge, wrapped up into a hundred-centimeter, jellybean-fueled monster.

Her cheeks lift, jam-covered and smug.

“Funny,” Sarah says, nodding.

The afternoon strings the sun high in the sky.

You’ve been home alone for the better part of an hour, busying yourself by cleaning to take your mind off the nausea tugging at your esophagus. Making and remaking beds, folding laundry until your fingers cramp.

Sarah’s room has never been tidier. Joel’s workshop has never seen so little dust. And you have never been more determined to prove your four-year-old wrong.

You’re lingering in the bathroom, the window gaping. Sucking in breath after breath of fresh air – which only serves to tickle the acid burning its way up your throat, entice it further.

You’re emptying the cabinets, reorganizing them into some senseless order. Playing Tetris with boxes of Band-Aids, slotting in tubes of toothpaste. You blindly reach behind your hip for the next box – a nearly empty thing which rattles when you lift it, jitters as though nervous.

You glance down.

“Fuck off,” you hiss, throwing it on the shelf beside some tampons.

It stares back at you, as blinding as the sun. The two display window examples, pregnant and not pregnant, like a wink peering out from the dull cabinet.

Your gums taste of bitter bile, rancid. Teeth furry and aching. Your entire body aches – though nothing quite so bad as the space below your ribs, still tender from all your retching.

Slowly, your hands slip down your front to cup your lower tummy. Rounder than before, suppler – bloated, even.

“’s from all the throwing up,” you tell nobody in particular. Maybe yourself. There’s a desperate edge to your voice, almost a plea.

But then – a plea to who? For what? There was nothing you loved more than carrying Sarah for nine months. Duck. Start saying duck. Baby Duck.

You were never on your own. She was right there. Someone to talk to, someone to complain to. Someone to weep to, in the quietest lulls of night.

Her language came to you as easily as your own. All her kicks and punches, her fucking acrobatics while you tried to sleep. It was love, in its most chaotic form.

And you loved her, the very moment you saw those two lines. The very moment you realized she’d been in there the whole time.

You realize now, squatted on your bathroom floor, that it feels the exact same. A warmth, radiating from your very core, if only you’d pay it enough attention to feel it.

Like there’s someone there. Right there.

“If you’re fucking with me,” you warn your stomach, reaching for the single test, “I will lose my shit.”

Love, in its most chaotic form bursts through your bedroom door no less than half an hour later.

“Hi, Mama!” Sarah sings, tearing through the room with her hands behind her back. Her knees bump against the side of your bed, the air about her summer-warm and pollen-sweet.

“Hi, little Duck,” you mumble, voice swollen. You wipe sleep from your eyes, asking, “How was the park?”

She answers with a wide grin on her face, whipping out a small, shabby bunch of flowers. Dandelions and daisies tangled around one another, loose petals scattering over your bedsheets.

“Oh, baby,” you push yourself up, ignoring the sickly weight in your stomach, “Are these for me?”

She nods. She dusts her hands free of grass when you take the bouquet. And then, as you smell them and hum with delight, she turns.

First, over to the dresser. She stares at her reflection, pokes at some of the makeup on the table. Then over to the window – where her breath fogs the glass. You hear the whack of Joel’s tailgate closing, and she tracks him into the house, before examining the windowsill.

You watch nervously as she drifts back over to the bed, a curious hop to her movements. Inspecting, like she knows there’s something waiting to be found. Someone.

“Did you have fun with Daddy?” you ask.

“Yep,” her small voice says, distant and distracted. She disappears into the dim bathroom.

You slump back down on the mattress, dropping the flowers in a clump on your bedside table. “I don’t even know when I fell asleep, baby girl,” you say through a yawn.

Sarah doesn’t reply.

“Duckie?”

“What’s this?”

You lift your head. “What’s wh…Oh, n-no, Duckie, wait –”

She flees past you, one fist raised and wielding the pregnancy test.

“Sarah! Jesus, fuck –”

You’re chasing after her before you have a chance to consider it – nausea be damned. She’s squealing something, roaring with laughter, blitzing out into the hallway. She swivels, ladders down the stairs backwards, leaps straight into the arms of –

“Christ, Sarah –”

Joel stumbles backwards with the force she throws at him. She’s safe in his arms by the time you reach the top of the stairs, waving the stupid stick around his head like it’s a magic wand.

“Daddy!” Sarah cries.

He glances up to you: hunched over the top step, panting, clutching your stomach. He pinches the test from her grasp. “What do we got here, baby duck?”

She kicks her feet. She has no fucking idea what they have, but she knows you didn’t want her near it – and if you know your kid, you know that’s all the catalyst she needed to fucking take it.

You slowly make your way down towards them, smirk growing the nearer you draw.

Joel glances down to the test. The creases by his eyes deepen. He hugs Sarah closer.

“Two...two means...pregnant, right?” he asks.

You sigh, nodding. “Mhm.”

His head lifts.

He breaks, the second he sees your expression. Eyes glassy, tears spilling onto your cheeks. The same smile you wore that June morning: sleep-deprived and shellshocked, a love pumping through your veins so strong that you thought you might burst with it.

Joel reaches for your hand, reels you in against his body.

“Shit,” he laughs, holding the test up.

Your shaking hands take it from him – though you already knew what it says. You were dreaming of it all when Sarah broke into your room.

Dreaming of linked hands and echoed giggles; of bunkbeds and matching surnames, of all four seats in the truck filled and all four chambers of your heart spoken for.

Dreaming of one on each hip, one in each hand. Dreaming of them tag teaming Joel, of the word kids slung with his southern twang. My kids, the kids, our kids. All ours.

Dreaming of two Sarahs, goddamn it. Because nothing ever completed your life as effortlessly as one Sarah, and – hell, she was born to follow in her dad’s footsteps and become the elder Miller sibling.

“Shit,” you agree, turning to sob into Joel’s chest.

“Duckie,” Joel says, voice hoarse and choked by tears, “You’re gonna be a big sister.”

She giggles, tracing the damp lines down your cheeks. As she reaches your jaw, the elation on her face slowly dwindles into something of a frown.

Your lips part to repeat it – a big sister, Duck – when her tiny voice steals the air from your lungs.

“Shit!”