#anyways I’m a deadbeat dad | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

alltheirdamn · 3 months

Text

My Kink is Karma | Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Your boyfriend breaks up with you, so you decide to get revenge... Rating: 18+ Explicit MDNI Word Count: 3k Warnings: no-outbreak AU, undefined age gap (pick your poison), teasing, revenge sex, unprotected piv sex, size!kink, daddy!kink, joel folds you like a pretzel, filthy language, pet names (sweetheart, daddy, good girl, etc.), orgasm, creampie, a touch of cuckholding i guess??, slight voyurism, heavy kissing, language... is that it? A/N: Y'all already know I get influenced all too easily when it comes to music... anyway, the song inspo is, of course, My Kink Is Karma

Masterlist | Ko-Fi

Stupid. So fucking stupid.

Two years together, and he decides to break up with you? Granted, things were already on a downward slope, but over text? Seriously. Fucking asshole. You were cramming his shit into an all too-small cardboard box, huffing a slew of obscenities. Old t-shirts, bullshit birthday cards, photos… you didn’t want a single one. You should burn them all, but you wanted him hurt. You wanted him to stare at those memories and regret it all.

Pulling up to his house—well, his dad’s house since he was a deadbeat without a place to stay—you hauled the box into both hands and staggered up the porch. You had put on what you considered your ‘revenge dress’: a flowy sundress that barely covered your ass. Yeah, I hope you regret this, you thought to yourself. Princess Diana would be looking down at you proud as fuck.

Hoisting the box on your hip, you pounded on the front door, a scowl on your face. Jesus, the box was heavy as you balanced it in one arm. The door wrenched open, and you were ready to toss angry words in his face.

His father, Joel, stood in the doorway, and you were quick to bite your tongue. Soft, brown eyes nestled under thick eyebrows gazed down at you. His lips twitched into a cautious smile, the plush pout covered by a dark mustache. Joel’s frame practically filled the doorway, and damn, was he always this attractive?

“This is a surprise,” he stated. “Whatcha doin’ with all that stuff?”

You shoved it into his chest, your arms tired from holding its weight.

“Your piece of shit son broke up with me,” you grumbled.

Joel wrapped thick fingers around the edge of the box, his eyebrows furrowing together. Guess his son didn’t fill him in on his latest fuck up. Real shocker.

“M’sorry to hear that. Y’wanna come in for a minute? I’ll get you some iced tea to cool down.”

“I don’t wanna impose on you. I figure I’m probably not welcomed here anymore.”

“You’re more than welcome here,” Joel argued. You didn’t miss how his eyes fluttered over your body, catching sight of your dress blowing upward in the breeze.

Ohh…

“If you insist,” you said.

Joel nodded toward the doorway, letting you walk in first. He discarded the box by the front door and led the way to the kitchen. You kept yourself fixated on how his back flexed under his flannel, the muscles in his shoulders stretching across the fabric. If only his son had been this hot, maybe you would’ve had sex more often.

You propped yourself on the kitchen barstool, swinging your legs beneath you as you watched Joel pour you a glass of sweet tea—typical Southern gentleman. After pouring himself a glass, Joel leaned against the counter, his muscular forearms braced against the edge.

“So…” He drawled. “Y’been alright since the break-up?”

You rolled your eyes, bringing the glass to your lips. Joel’s dark eyes tracked the movement of your lips around the rim, and you rewarded him with a coy smile. It was enough to make him clear his throat and readjust his stance behind the coverage of the counter.

“Oh, I’m great,” you smiled, licking your top teeth. “It’s always fun when your boyfriend breaks up with you over text. He didn’t even have the balls to do it in person.”

“He ain’t the brightest,” Joel commented.

“No, he definitely isn’t.”

Joel quirked a grin, and you quickly realized you were talking to your ex’s dad; you should hold back a bit. “Shit, sorry. That’s not nice of me.”

He shook his head, tipping his glass to his lips. Now, it was your turn to obsess over his mouth and how his plush bottom lip curved around the rim as he gulped down the liquid. You pressed your thighs together, attempting to quell the throbbing ache between your legs.

“No need to be sorry,” Joel said. “You’re too sweet of a girl for a man like him.”

“Calling him a ‘man’ is generous of you,” you laughed sarcastically. “Barely got a few inches on him to call himself that.”

“No need to kick him while he’s down, sweetheart.”

“Respectfully, Mr. Miller, fuck him. I deserved better,” you argued.

Joel’s jaw clenched, and you could almost see the wheels turn in his head. Stepping away from the counter, he strode to where you sat, towering over you with a flicker of lust behind his chocolate eyes. The lace thong barely covering your sex was already drenched just from the way he looked at you.

“What you’re sayin’ is that you deserve a real man,” he offered.

You parted your legs just a few inches, but it was enough of an invitation for Joel to step forward and crowd your body. With his knee pressed to the apex of your sex and his hand braced against the back of your chair, you had nowhere to go. The thrill of it all was electrifying your veins.

“I think I do,” you said defiantly.

“Would that make y’feel better, sweetheart? Fuckin’ a real man?” He asked, his fingers twirling in your hair that hung over your shoulder.

“God, yes,” you whined, biting your lip to stop yourself from moaning at his words.

Joel leaned forward, a breath away from your lips. Were you seriously about to do this? Hell, it was too late now to even think twice. You wanted revenge, and here was the perfect opportunity. You craned your neck higher, waiting for him to close the gap. Joel only gave you a pitying smile, the silver strands in his beard glittering in the kitchen sunlight.

“Naugty lil’ thing,” he taunted, grinning wide.

He didn’t give you a chance to respond. Joel crushed his lips to yours, his tongue prodding your mouth open wider. The moan you had been holding back slipped out at the same time he sank his teeth into your bottom lip. You reached up to tug at the soft curls atop his head, your nails scratching against his scalp. Joel groaned into your open mouth, his hand coming down to grip your bare thigh.

“Gonna let your ex-boyfriend’s daddy fuck you, sweetheart? Gonna let me show y’what a real man is like?” Joel panted.

“Please, Daddy,” you begged, the word slipping right off your tongue.

You pulled away embarrassed, your lips swollen and wet and your face burning a bright red. Joel didn’t seem phased at all by your little slip-up. In fact, he looked at you with even more hunger than before. Pupils blown wide and a smile brighter than the sun, you were so in over your head. Whatever he was promising, you knew you’d be in for a treat.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, y’can’t be callin’ me that and expect me to go easy on you,” Joel said.

“Then don’t go easy,” you insisted. “Show me what I’ve been missing out on, Daddy.”

Joel practically lost it as you repeated the word, his arms coming around your back to haul you up and out of the chair. You quickly wrapped your legs around his waist, hooking your heels together, and let him drag you away from the kitchen and into the living room.

Your back hit the couch in seconds, the sundress on your body billowing onto the cushions. Joel hunched over your sprawled body, sucking marks down the column of your neck. Everything in your body hummed with pleasure, the growing need inside your stomach building.

Joel dipped a hand under your dress, his fingers brushing up the lacy thong that stuck to your skin with arousal. You preened into his touch, lifting your hips to seek any sort of relief from the tension twisting inside your core.

“Damn, sweetheart,” Joel exhaled. “Y’already this wet for me? Fuckin’ soakin’ my hand, and I’ve barely touched you.”

“Mhmm,” you whispered, rolling your hips against his fingertips.

Joel pinched your lace-covered clit between his fingers, rolling the sensitive bud softly until you cried out. Your hands clung to his forearms, digging into the bulging veins hidden under the fabric of his button-up. God, revenge would taste so fucking sweet.

“S’alright,” he cooed. “Daddy’s gonna take real good care of you.”

It shocked you how fast Joel managed to yank your underwear off, tossing it halfway across the room before working at undoing his belt. Your eyes nearly fell out of your head when you saw his cock spring free from his boxers. His son was definitely not packing this kind of heat, and your sex clenched around nothing as the anticipation flowed through your veins. The shocked silence and wide-eyed stare you wore garnered a laugh from Joel.

“We’ll make it fit, sweetheart. You’re gonna take every inch of me like a good girl, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Daddy,” you nodded, biting your lip.

Propping one leg on the couch, Joel gripped the back of your thighs and pinned them at either side of your head, nearly folding you in half.

“Keep ‘em right here, y’understand?”

You muttered a quick yes, settling your fingers around the backs of your knees. Joel gave his cock a few lazy strokes before lining the weeping head of it at your entrance. Brushing the tip through your silky folds, he pushed in an inch, grunting as you cried at the intrusion. Fuck, it hurt.

“Tightest pussy I ever felt, sweetheart,” he groaned, sinking in another inch.

The stretch of his cock inside you was unbearable, every part of him rubbing against your walls until you were filled completely. The moment Joel bottomed out, you lost all capacity to breathe correctly, your voice coming out in small whimpers and cries.

“Fuck,” he hissed. “Just suckin’ me right in. God damn, y’feel like Heaven.”

“It’s so big, Daddy,” you moaned.

“Takin’ it so well for me, sweetheart. Y’ready for more?”

You bobbed your head, your eyes falling to see where your bodies connected. The hair around Joel’s cock brushed over your swollen lips with each shallow thrust, his hips colliding with yours in a steady rhythm as you adjusted to his size.

“My son ever fuck you like this?” He growled.

“No,” you exhaled shakily.

“Didn’t think so.”

Then he was ramming into you…hard. Your sweaty fingers slipped off your legs, but Joel was quick to replace them with his own hands, molding you into the couch as he took you rough and fast. The room fell apart around you, leaving you crying out every time his cock shoved deeper inside you. You swore you felt him in your stomach, the thick girth of his cock stretching you beyond measure.

“Fuckin’ take it, sweetheart,” he choked out. “Keep takin’ daddy’s cock. Lookin’ so pretty folded up under me.”

“Yes! Yes!” You shouted.

The weight of your breasts bounced with each onslaught of thrusts, your chest heaving for air as he stole it from you over and over again. Even with your ears muffled by your legs, the sound of your sex suctioning around his cock was unmistakable. Reaching between your bodies, you pressed your fingers against your clit, blindly searching for release as it trembled through your muscles.

“Dirty fuckin’ girl,” Joel teased, glancing up at you.

He pinned you with a violent stare, his lips twisted up in a smirk, and a thin sheen of sweat coating his forehead. Christ, you were a fucking whore for this, but you loved it. You couldn’t give a damn about your ex when his dad was balls deep inside you.

“Daddy, I’m so close,” you whimpered.

Your fingers were working twice as fast now, chasing that inescapable bloom of pleasure unwinding inside your core. You pulsated around his cock, sucking him in further as his thrusts grew ragged and out of sync.

“Yeah, you are. Can feel this pretty pussy milkin’ my cock already.”

“Harder, Daddy. Need—fuck—need you deeper inside me.”

Joel tensed at your words, his movements slowing down—the exact opposite of what you begged for. He tilted his head over you, studying how your eyes welled with tears, and your lips trembled.

“Daddyyy,” you pleaded.

He bent down over your body, his weight crushing into yours and plunging his dick as far as your core would let him. You cried out as he molded his mouth to yours, swallowing down every noise you tried to make. From this angle, you could feel Joel everywhere. The bruising hold of his fingers around your legs, the twitch of his cock against your cervix, the heat of his tongue intertwining over yours.

Why hadn’t you considered dating older men from the start? This was ecstasy.

Joel rocked his hips into you in a slow rhythm, the urgency having left his body and replaced now by determined movements only to bring you closer to the brink of release. You lapped at Joel’s tongue, sloppy wet sounds from your mouth mixing with the lewd noises of your bodies slapping together.

“Oh, God! Oh, God!” You cried, the sound muffled against Joel’s lips. He buried his head into your neck, his teeth bearing down on your scorching skin. The precipice of release was at your fingertips, and you were toppling over.

“That’s it,” Joel crooned. “Cum all over daddy’s cock. Wanna feel you chokin’ it when you come undone.”

Stars shot across the back of your eyelids, your orgasm ready to barrel through you. You heaved in a breath, anticipating the spiral ready to unfurl inside you when the sound of the front door opening paralyzed you.

“Dad?” A voice called out.

Joel whipped his head toward the hallway, his cock throbbing inside you. You pinched his chin, dragging his face to meet your eyes.

“Keep fucking me,” you demanded. “Let me be your good girl, Daddy.”

Joel’s lip parted, a protest on the tip of his tongue. You wordlessly shook your head, lifting your hips to meet his in a silent plea for more. This was the moment. This was your chance at revenge.

“S’gonna get me in trouble, sweetheart,” Joel hissed, assaulting you with another series of quick thrusts.

You arched upward, your mouth brushing against his ear.

“I wanna cum for you,” you whispered. “Let’s show your son what it looks like to make a girl really orgasm.”

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” Joel groaned.

You anchored Joel to your chest; your legs pressed into his shoulders as he drove his hips against yours over…and over… In the distance, you could hear your ex-boyfriend call out for Joel again, a hint of suspicion in his voice. Let him fucking listen to you; let him see what his dad was doing to you. You clawed at Joel’s back, your nails tearing into his shirt as your orgasm vibrated in your muscles. Right as the spark of adrenaline hit your veins, your ex came into view in the doorway, his eyes wide with horror.

“Yes, Daddy!” You pleaded.

Everything inside you tensed up, your sex gripping around Joel’s cock until his movements strained above you. Joel groaned in your ear, your name falling off his tongue in choked syllables as he painted your insides with his release. As he slumped against your body, you peered up at your ex, a satisfied grin on your face.

“What the fuck?” He seethed, standing motionless just feet away.

“Your shit’s by the door!” You shouted at him. “Why don’t you take it upstairs? Your daddy and I are busy.”

Joel loosed a breath, chuckling softly in your neck.

“You’re mean for that, sweetheart,” he mumbled.

“Fucking your son’s ex-girlfriend seems a whole lot worse,” you whispered back, keeping your voice low enough for only him to hear.

Peeking back over the back of the couch, you noticed the doorway empty, all signs of your ex gone from view. You tapped Joel’s shoulder lightly, urging him to unwind your limbs from above your head. You ached all over but in the best fucking way possible. Straightening his spine, Joel lowered your legs down and slowly pulled out of you. The warmth of his seed leaking from your entrance was a welcomed reminder of what you had done. Revenge tasted sweet but felt so much sweeter.

You groaned as you stretched your legs, staring up at Joel with a wide smile. Despite the wreckage you caused, Joel smiled right back, and his eyes shifted from your red face down to your dripping sex. You squeezed your legs together, swinging them over the edge of the couch.

“Shit,” you muttered. “Where the hell did you toss my underwear?”

“M’sure they’re ‘round here somewhere,” Joel shrugged, tucking his cock back into his jeans.

“Well, if you find them, you can keep them.”

Joel extended a hand, insisting on helping you to your feet, which you appreciated since your legs felt like jelly. Heavy footsteps shook the roof above you, no doubt from your ex, as he stormed through the house. You giggled at the thought, knowing you had just given him the best taste of karma. You glanced at Joel, seeing his wild curls sticking up at odd angles.

“I should probably get going.”

“Leavin’ me with a whole lotta mess, sweetheart,” he huffed.

You leaned into his solid frame, kissing his lips quickly.

“I’m sure you’ll be just fine,” you smirked. “It’s him you might need to worry about.”

Joel swatted your ass, urging you out of the living room and toward the front door. You gave him a quick flutter of your fingers and said goodbye before skipping down the porch steps with his cum dripping down your inner thighs.

#joel miller fanfic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel x f!reader #joel x reader #tlou #tlou fanfic #joel miller one shot #this is just nasty and hot #idk what came over me #no outbreak au

1K notes · View notes

ham1lton · 5 months

Text

MISS BAD MEDIA KARMA

pairings: (alleged) charles leclerc x reader. lando norris x reader. george russell x reader. (platonic) sebastian vettel x reader.

warnings: misogynistic media and comments.

summary: after a night out with your fellow drivers, the media is alight with rumours and speculation about your romantic life. most people would call a pr meeting, you go through the funniest rumours on instagram live and rate them out of ten.

author’s note: i’m still taking questions/asks/requests so please send some in! also as usual, there is a poll at the end so please vote!

— part of my maneater series ꕤ

START INSTAGRAM LIVE. (20K WATCHING)

Y/N: hi guys! hi! how is everyone? how are you doing?

user1: Y/N NOTICE ME!

user2: y/n girl u look hungover as hell 😭

Y/N: am i hungover? perhaps. that’s probably why i’m doing this. jo is going to kill me but whatever.

user3: what are you planning on doing? 😭

Y/N: after yesterday’s… events. there have been a lot of rumours about me and my fellow drivers that have been spread around social media. so let’s talk through them and rate them out of ten.

user7: ain’t this a pr disaster?

user8: you probably shouldn’t do this.

landonorris: LMFAOOOOOO DO IT

Y/N: lando? how are you not hungover from last night? i’ll start with you. apparently according to this thread by twitter user y/nando, the two of us are secretly engaged to be married. okay first of all, why? second of all, no. i’m sorry. that isn’t happening any time soon. also, my schedule is too packed to be thinking about marriage plans. this one is 2/10 because c’mon.

landonorris: i’m searching that thread right now.

landonorris: wait lol why is this kinda accurate… are you sure we’re not engaged?

user7: LMFAOOOOOO

Y/N: we’re supposed to be EXTINGUISHING the rumours, not adding to them??? we are not engaged. we’re just friends. barely that if anything.

user8: BOOOOOOOOO

y/nando: it’s okay :) you’ll see that you’re perfect for each other one day.

Y/N: will we? anyways. next rumour. according to some monaco newspaper, charles and i have a secret child. this is apparently backed up by some anonymous sources.

landonorris: BOOOOO we get some shitty engagement rumour and you and charles get a child. i want a redo!

charles_leclerc: don’t deny our child y/n 😔

user6: y’all are MESSY 😭

user9: CHARLESY/N SUPREMACY 😍

georgerussell63: end the live y/n 😁👍🏻

Y/N: what is this photo? this is supposed to be proof of my pregnancy? i was just bloated from an evening of indulging at this amazing italian restaurant. it was gorgeous. whoever used this photo is dead wrong for that. this one is 5/10 cause i feel self conscious.

user12: no deadass 😭 if i was famous i would have had a million pregnancy rumours by now.

user68: no charlesy/n baby? BOOO!

Y/N: another one. george and i were spotted buying baby clothes in london. apparently george is me and charles’ baby’s godfather. there is no baby! charles and i don’t have a kid. so george is not the godfather!

georgerussell63: wait… why not? i would be a great godfather actually. i am offended.

user9: george going from telling y/n to switch off the live to being offended he isn’t the godfather of her alleged baby is crazy 😭

Y/N: also why was i shopping with george and not my alleged baby daddy? charles you’re a deadbeat to our non-existent child and that’s why this newspaper is saying that george is raising my kid?

charles_leclerc: apologies to leclerc jr but no way i’m letting george raise him.

georgerussell63: i’m not ready to be a stepdad but c’mon i’d be a great one.

user4: george isn’t the stepdad, he’s the dad that stepped up!

logansargeant: i’m upset that i haven’t been included in these rumors.

Y/N: if i was gonna ask anyone to be my baby’s stepdad it would be oscar. this rumour is 3/10 because it’s so unbelievable.

oscarpiastri: NOOOOOOOO 😰

user9: HELP???

user67: i’m watching this while doing my makeup. y/n is my favourite influencer!

user78: i was watching your vlog when i saw the notification!

Y/N: did you enjoy this vlog? for people who haven’t seen it yet, it’s detailing my offseason with my friends and family! we travelled a little and i did some work with my sponsorships! so check it out. we have some very interesting camera people.

user65: can’t believe you had the usher do your camera work for your superbowl vlog.

user8: you met beyoncé, you never gonna fail!

user67: be honest, did you faint at the sight of all the big celebs?

lewishamilton: y/n, this is all very interesting but maybe you shouldn’t be doing this? - sebastian.

Y/N: seb?? what are you doing here? and why are you on lewis’ account? don’t you have your own?

lewishamilton: i lost my login information 😅 and i got a message from charles telling me to shut this down - sebastian.

Y/N: what a snitch…

user23: he mad y/n didn’t accept their child 😭

Y/N: speaking of sebastian, here is my favourite rumour. that sebastian is my father and i’m his secret lovechild.

youryoungersis: wait…. is that why we look so different? you have a different dad???

lewishamilton: i’m not that much older than you? how can i be your dad? i’m only 13 years older than you! do i look that old? - sebastian, NOT your father.

user7: HELPSOSJSSJ

user5: NOT HIM CLARIFYING 😭😭

Y/N: that one is funny but no. we don’t even look alike! i hear a lot that we have the same mannerisms but that’s probably because i practically grew up around the guy. i’m rating this one…. 7/10.

lewishamilton: grew up around not with! - sebastian, NOT her father.

user2: BRO WE GET IT 😭😭😭😭

Y/N: so basically, time for the last one. this one is definitely the most out of pocket one.

alex_albon: BOOOOO I MISSED MOST OF IT

danielricciardo: 🤣🤣🤣

user98: HELSPSOSJ i’m laughing so hard.

Y/N: oh hi jo! how did you get in? WAIT!-

INSTAGRAM LIVE ENDED. (98K WATCHING)

#jayde’s works ☆#maneater ꕤ #f1 x reader #f1 smau #f1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula one x reader #f1 texts #f1 fanfic #formula one imagine #sebastian vettel x reader #charles leclerc x reader #lando norris x reader #formula one smau #formula one #george russell x reader

1K notes · View notes

torasplanet · 8 months

Note

I know bd!dabi is definitely the type to be banging on your door at 3 in the morning, after calling you and seeing somebody in the backround (it was a literal shadow..)

❝𝙈𝙔 𝘽𝘼𝘽𝙔.ᐟ❞

BABYDADDY!DABI + F. READER

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 ; dabi can't stand the thought of you with someone else so when he sees something that looks like a guy in the slightest, of course he came banging at your door at three in the morning.

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 ; smut, dabi is actually trying not to be a deadbeat!?!?, p in v, praise, rough sex, masochism, hair-pulling, slapping, soft dabi at end ig, jealousy sex, dabi is crazy, and skin color not mentioned

Dabi was actually trying to be a good dad now. You and Dabi had learned to set the shit aside or more like fuck out all of that anger but it didn’t matter because it helped a lot and now Dabi was taking Kaede over to his place a lot, buying him more shit and taking him places without you even having to ask him to do it. He was calling daily and nightly and not just to talk to you but to check up on his little mini-me.

He called you about two hours ago and it was one in the morning when Kaede was surprisingly still awake not wanting to go to bed until he told his daddy about the fun show he watched today but when Kaede had passed out on your chest, Dabi still hadn’t hung up. He wanted to stay up and talk to you. “Don’t you got work tomorrow?” You asked looking at your ex-boyfriend on the phone as he sat in his living room smoking, the light of whatever adult swim show he was watching illuminating his face for you. “Nah, you forgot my schedule already?” The white-haired man asked with a grin on his face.

You returned the grin so that it looked as though he was staring into a mirror “No, just so used to you lying so you can see your other girlfriends.” Dabi smacked his tongue against the roof of his mouth whilst he rolled his eyes nearly to the back of his skull “Don’t start dollface. Y’know I don’t do that shit anymore.” Dabi said, his smile dropping as he was annoyed with your teasing and it made you laugh while you ran your fingers through Kaede’s dark hair as he slept soundly on top of you “I’m just playin’ touya.” You said to reassure him and he grinned at you once more.

Kaede slowly began to stir in his sleep making you look down, you put the phone on the bed in front of you setting it up on the bedframe so that Dabi could still see you before you tended to your son. You readjusted the way he lay on you so he didn’t wake up while cooing sweet things in his ear but Dabi wasn’t focused on that. He was more or so focused on who the fuck was in the bed beside you.

“Who the fuck is that?” The Todoroki male questioned angrily. His brows furrowed as his turquoise eyes squinted trying to find out what guy was in the bed but there was no one. It was a fucking shadow. “Huh? No one.” You responded looking to your side and seeing no one there as Kaede wrapped his little arms around your neck while trying to find his way back to sleep. Dabi didn’t say anything and just stared at you even glaring by squinting his eyes at you and then, he hung up. Okay, now he was mad. About what? You had no fucking clue.

There was literally no one in this house other than you and your son so he was going crazy and getting mad about nothing. Whatever, you had to put Kaede in his room anyway.

Standing up, you left your phone on the bed as you made your way out of your room and to Kaede’s room which was decorated with all kinds of toddler stuff involving his favorite shows and movies that he begged you to watch every time he got home from daycare. “Mommy…” The little blue-eyed boy murmured as you lowered him into his bed while shushing him. It took a little while to get him to go back to sleep fully because he would not let you leave his bedside even for a second without beginning to cry. You had to sit there holding his baby hand while he snuggled into his Adventure Time plushie until his grip on your fingers released signaling that he was fast asleep.

This itself took a while and it was enough time for Dabi to hop in his car and drive over to your place. As you walked out of Kaede’s room, closing the door behind you, there was banging at your front door. You would’ve thought the SWAT team was at your door if it wasn’t for the fact that you already knew Dabi was upset and how he was when he was upset. “What…?” You sighed approaching the door and beginning to unlock the door expecting Dabi to just glare down at you but he didn’t even look at you before he pushed past you inviting himself in your place.

“What the fuck are you doing?” You asked in a hushed tone not wanting to wake up the younger boy as you watched Dabi walk throughout the apartment, looking under the couch, in closets, and all of the rooms. Well, except for Kaede’s; he knew you weren’t going to hide another guy in your son’s room, that was just wrong. “Tell me who the fuck was in here before I find him myself.” Dabi said as you walked into your bedroom where he currently was flipping everything upside down looking for that ‘guy’.

You scoffed at his overreaction “It was a shadow, touya.” You told him and he just glared at you “I’m telling you now if I find a fucking guy in here, I will murder him [y/n].” Dabi said stalking closer to you and forcing you to back up until your back hit the wall near the doorframe but you didn’t give a single shit. Well, you didn’t care about what how he was acting but you cared about what he was saying and saw a way to just piss him off a little more. For fun, you know? “There’s no one in here. If there was why would you care? Not like we’re together.” You said shrugging your shoulders as you crossed your arms into an ‘X’ across your chest. Dabi’s expression relaxed as if all the anger from his body had faded when those words left your mouth.

“[Y/n]. You and I both know that I don’t give a shit about any of that.” He said almost tauntingly. The corners of his lips pulled up as he leaned forward getting his face closer to yours “I don’t wanna find another man in here–best friend, co-worker, babysitter–I don’t give a shit. I don’t want no fucking guy around my son.” Dabi continued lowering his voice as he remembered that the son he was talking about was asleep right now.

Ugh, Dabi wasn’t fooling anyone especially not you. If he thought that you were going to believe that it was just about Kaede and not about him not wanting you to fuck or date another guy, he was incredibly stupid. You two weren’t officially together but to Dabi, that’s never mattered. From the moment you agreed to be his girlfriend, you’ve been his no matter if you two were on a break or not.

“Is it that or do you not want me dating?” Dabi smiled. Oh, you knew him so well. That’s why he stuck with you. “Can it be both?” Dabi asked with a low and sultry tone of his voice. It was so hot and you almost folded and kissed him right there if isn’t wasn’t for the fact that he madea mess in your room that he was definietly not going to clean up. “Obviously it’s both if you charged into my house at three in the fucking morning over a shadow while your son is asleep.” You said obviously less than pleased about his actions and he rolled his eyes while smacking his teeth at you like he did on the phone. You were upset at him and him continuing to yell at you about this ‘shadow’ was not going to calm you down.

“Doll…y’know I do it cause I love you.” He said pressing a kiss against your temple but you grumbled and shoved his face away from yours not wanting to deal with his stupid apologies. Dabi groaned as he pressed his body against yours “Just wanna make sure no one tryna take you from me.” Dabi said running his warm hands up and and down your body. You could smell the scent of nicotine and weed on him, it was incredibly strong like he was smoking on his way here.

You were slowly beginning to fold because of his words and how they were whispers in your ears, he knew what made you think and what made you whine. You threw your arms around his shoulders and hooked them around his neck as he littered kisses along your face earning hums from you “C’mon…why you playin’ baby.” Dabi whined into your ear getting a tad bit upset because you were playing hard to get when you’d just end up falling apart in his arms by the end of the night or by the break of dawn from how time was moving.

You backed up your head leaning back against the wall to look at him. The look on your face was enough to tell him why you were ‘playing’ around with him and you didn’t have to say anything “I’m sorry, lemme make it up to you.” Dabi said cooed to you as his hands ran over the shape of your body over and over and you smiled just a bit “You gotta be quiet tho…” You muttered to him not wanting to wake up Kaede and Dabi grinned. He was quick to place his hands on your ass and pick you up while pressing his lips to yours swallowing whatever sayings you were going to add to your sentence.

As Dabi moved away from the wall and closed the door you grabbed a handful of hair from the back of his head forcefully pulling him away from the kiss “I’m serious, if he wakes up, you’re taking care of it.” You said more sternly than the last time and Dabi made his way to the bed and collapsed down on the bed falling on top of you due to your strong grip on his hair but he laid on his knees to prevent from completely flopping on you “If you keep pullin’ my hair like that, the whole building’s gonna wake up.” Dabi said with an evil grin on his face and you let go of his hair just as roughly as you pulled it. How could you forget how freaky he was?

Dabi grinned and leaned his head down to begin to kiss all over your neck, he sucked and nipped at your flesh making your lips part widely resisting the urge to moan at his actions. You threw your head back as your hands came to the nape of his neck “Touya…” You muttered making your desired smile against your neck “Barely touchin’ you and you’re already moanin’ my name?” He asked and you grunted at his playfulness not wanting to do any foreplay.

“‘Cause I want you to touch me more.” You told him gently tugging at the strands of hair closest to the back of his neck, he let out low groans near your ear at your tugging. Dabi didn’t say anything, the only thing that happened was his hands drifting down and shuffling your pants and panties off with the assistance of you kicking them off. He loved when you pulled his hair, it felt so fucking good but only when you did it. Any other bitch who tried that shit would get their hand slapped away from his head.

“Be patient,” Dabi said in response to your small whimpers whilst he sat up on his knees to slide his jeans off, you merely groaned watching as he discarded his lower pieces of clothing before deciding to rid yourself of your shirt “Now c’mon…” You said reaching your arms up to grab at his shoulders, Dabi rolled his eyes at how impatient you were before grabbing your thighs and lining his cock up with your hole. You looked at his cock and grinned nearly drooling at the sight. Standing up straight, the tip is just a light brown leaking precum, prominent vein on the side that always rubbed against your walls. It’s like you had his cock memorized in your head and your pussy.

Dabi slowly began to push himself inside of you, his always warm hands grasping your hips so you wouldn’t slide up the bed “Ugh…slid right in, huh?” He said with a small chuckle watching as you sucked him in, he didn’t even start thrusting like normally and only did slow strokes. You groaned and grabbed a full handful of his hair and pulled it leaning up to come face to face with him “Fuck me like you meant what you said.” You said snarling at him. Dabi could fuck hard when he wanted to but sometimes he just liked to play with you and rile you up and you fucking hated it. If he was going to fuck you, he better do it right.

Dabi grinned eagerly as his head was tilted back, his turquoise eyes shining down at you with such bliss and enjoyment “Pull harder and maybe I’ll think about it.” Your eyes narrowed at him in a glare, you did pull harder but then you let go and slapped him across his face and it made him laugh a bit. Just like how no one else could pull his hair, no one could slap him like that and he’d enjoy it. It felt amazing knowing that it was you who was fulfilling his masochistic fantasies. “I fucking love you.” He said lowly tilting his head down at you. His hands pressed harder into your thigh, pushing them up and into your chest allowing him to sink deeper in your…

He hovered over you as you lay back on the pillows a red mark on the side of his face. Dabi’s lips met yours as his strokes became harder and quicker, he moaned with you into the disgustingly messy kiss and it was a good thing because you were certain that if the kiss broke, you would’ve woken up your son with how loud the both of you were.

That vein rubbed against your walls as Dabi’s cock bruised your cervix making your body jolt and your tits bounce from his speed and rough treatment of your cunt. His tongue fought with yours as he tried to shove it down your throat, your lips moving against each other while your body melted into each other like butter “I meant it. I’ll kill any fucking guy I find in this bitch.” Touya said into the kiss with a raspy voice, his hips slamming into your under thighs as his fingers grabbed the back of your knees tightly.

You tried to say something but couldn’t because of how intense the kiss was growing, utterly giving up on whatever babble was going to come out of your moaning lips. Your fingers dug into the flesh of his shoulders crawling their way down to claw at his back as the white-haired male ingested your loud mewls. As soon as your baby daddy parted his lips from yours, one of his hands went to your mouth to stop you from being extremely loud.

“Ha, and you were talkin’ about me being loud?” He laughed at your blissed-out face, eyes nearly rolling to the back of your head, legs shaking by your head (whether it was because they were cramping or the pleasure was beyond him nor did he really care), it all made him smile, and moan trying to contain them as much as he was doing it for you. “Shut up.” You managed to get out slightly muffled from his hand making eye contact with him.

Dabi threw his head back with a groan “Nah, that’s more for you.” He rasped still with that grin on his face, you went to respond but his tip hit your sweet spot making your body shiver. “Ah, Ah! So…good…” The mewls left your lips still muffled by Dabi’s hand as he fucked into you. “Ah, that’s it, fuck my back up.” Your nails clawing at his back surely leaving red marks made him fuck into you harder.

Your pussy clenched around him as the squelches and moist sounds of you getting fucked out of your mind were the only noises coming from you “Fuck you better get quiet, wanna hear you just a bit.” Dabi said burying his face into your neck while letting go of your mouth allowing you to suck in a huge gust of air. “Touya…fuck, so full…” You moaned trying to keep it down as best as you could but it was really hard when he was fucking into you so hard and rough. Your walls were pulsing around him as you felt yourself coming to the edge, you knew he was too. By the way, he was kissing your neck so roughly, begging you to scratch him up, he wanted more and more to make himself burst.

“I’ll never fuck anyone else, I swear…just you.” Your hands trailed up to his neck as your head pushed back deeper into the fluffy pillow “Don’t you fucking lie to me.” Dabi said as he lifted his face from your neck and stared down at you as he continued to stretch you out, you nodded rapidly as you hummed through your moans that were trying to be muted by your lips staying glued shut but they slipped out ever so often.

Dabi’s blue eyes burned into your skin as he waited for you to talk. He wanted you to say it to him, you knew this but you were so close. Could barely talk. “J-Just you touya!” You yelped just as you came and the feeling of you squirting all over his cock made Dabi just…lose his fucking mind. He came inside of you, filling you to the brim and marking you as his. Only his. He pulled out and still held your legs to your chest watching as his cum began to seep out of your hole and down your sweaty skin to eventually fall on the already ruined sheets of the bed. It was his favorite sight.

Dabi stared in awe as you whined a bit “Holy shit.” He said before removing his hands allowing your sore legs to fall onto the bed allowing you to sigh in relief. Dabi lay on top of you just grinning down at you like he was in the previous act you were doing but it was different, it seemed more unserious than before. “What?” You asked tilting your head a bit as you tried to regain your breath as he had quite literally taken it all away.

“Nothing, just thinking about how fun it’d be if you got off birth control,” Dabi said with his unserious grin turning into a smug one as he stared at your blank face that had no expression now. He was not serious.

“Yeah get off me.”

“C’mon…I know Kei wants someone else to play with, maybe a girl?”

You began to try and push the male off you which hardly worked “Get up, my legs are already cramping.” You said and the todoroki boy groaned before rolling off of your naked body allowing you to stand on extremely wobbly legs and they had fallen asleep. Dabi watched with an annoyed expression as you tried to make your way to the bathroom. “C’mon baby don’t be like that!”

p.s.

You sat on the kitchen counter watching with an interested grin as Dabi cooked sausages on the stove “Why are you just sitting there doing nothing?” He asked glancing behind him at you with an exhausted look on his face. Shrugging your shoulders, you just kicked your feet that were dangling above the ground “I’m not doing nothing. I’m making sure you don’t burn the house down, you have a thing with fire.” You said making Dabi smack his teeth at you.

“Baby, it was one time. It was an accident.” Yeah sure. Dousing your dress–that I might add was a little too short for his liking–in gasoline and then lighting it on fire was definitely an accident and not because he didn’t like how guys were looking at you at the party. You two were two engrossed in your conversations that you hadn’t even noticed the small sound of a door creaking open and little footsteps leading toward the kitchen following the smell of breakfast.

Kaede stood there in his firetruck pajamas holding a plushie in his hands while rubbing his eyes tiredly, hair messy like Dabi’s was currently. “Mommy…?” The sound of the little boy’s voice made both heads turn toward him, the boy hadn’t noticed his father yet and went to walk to you until he did notice Dabi. The young boy looked at his father in confusion “Daddy? What are you doing here…wait! Did you come out of the phone?” Kaede asked with a shocked look on his face coming up with supernatural reasons why his dad was here suddenly.

“Uh, no kid. I got here…after you went to sleep.” Dabi said awkwardly to his offspring as he continued to watch the sausages. Kaede walked toward Dabi and gently hugged his leg but when the sounds of grease popping started, you grabbed him by his arm and pulled him away “Okay, let’s not be next to Daddy when he’s cooking.” You picked up your son and held him in your arms as he rested his head on your chest almost instinctively continuing to watch his dad before looking up at you.

His turquoise eyes blinked at you “I’m hungry. I want one, please.” He requested batting his long eyelashes at you that he also happened to inherit from his dad. You were almost jealous of how long they were. You turned to your ex-boyfriend who heard it and just stared at you waiting for you to say something “Kei’s hungry, give him one please.” Dabi rolled his eyes at how you were so quick to give in to anything the little boy wanted.

“He can wait.”

“I’m hungry now.”

“Yeah, he’s hungry now.” You said doubling down by playfully glaring at the older male who let out a dramatic and loud groan before grabbing one of the small sausages from the pan and dropping it in the palm of your hand “If he burns his mouth, it’s your problem.” With that, you slowly began to feed the sausage to the toddler who stuck his tongue out and let out harsh breaths because of how hot it was making you blow on the rest of the sausage.

Dabi watched in enjoyment as you did that, a dirty smile coming onto his lips and when you met his eyes, you gave him a confused look “What?” You asked raising an eyebrow but he shook his head with a small laugh.

“Nothing.”

©torasplanet .ᐟ reblogs and likes are very appreciated! pls do not repost!!

#torasplanet.��#marls-fics.ᐟ #mha smut #mha dabi #mha x reader #bnha dabi #bnha smut #dabi smut #dabi x reader #touya todoroki smut #touya todoroki x reader #◛⑅·˚touyaa

894 notes · View notes

alphajocklover · 4 months

Note

Hello, basic 40 year old flabby, short, wimpy nerd nerd here. Been trying and failing to get fit and transform into a stud since I've been thirteen to no avail. Pretty much decided that that the project is genetic. I don't suppose you can genetically graft me to a hypermasculine dad or maybe a hypermasculine brother so puberty could have dealt me a way different hand?

Huh. I’ll admit, I’ve never really done anything like that before. I mean, I’ve talked about changes that alter someone’s past in previous post, and I performed one myself using time travel (I fucking hate time travel), but what’s you’re asking is so much more intense. You want me to make it so that you grew up with a super manly dad or brother. You want me to make it so your genetics are different, your history is different, so that you’re basically an entirely different person. I’m not sure I’ve ever altered anyone that much before. But… I’m willing to give it a try.

You’re an only child right? And you never knew your dad? Raised only by your mom? Good, that will make this much easier. Now, I should warn you that we’re going to have to be very careful. We’re going to use an artifact that my Uncle left to me. I’ve mentioned him before. I really should tell you all about him one day. Anyways, what we’re using to change you might not look like much, but… it’s very powerful. We need to use it carefully.

Ok, I know what you’re thinking. It’s a little statue of a metal tree. Yes I know I sound crazy but in a world with time travel, an app that turns people into meatheads, and reflections that can swap places with the person they’re reflecting, I think you can give me the benefit of the doubt. The little statuette doesn’t look like much, but it’s one of the most dangerous magic items I own. It’s known as the Family Tree, and it allows the user to, well, alter their family tree. Literally. All you have to do is press your thumb to the wooden base, and the tree grows and changes until it resembles your own family tree, complete with pictures. Then it’s as simple as moving some things around, or adding a picture to the tree. So, let’s get to work.

You asked for a super manly dad, or a super manly brother. But since we’re already changing your family, why not give you both? First let’s change out your deadbeat dad for someone a little more… impressive. A real man, a man’s man, one so muscular and sexy that if he walked out on your mom you’d still thank him for the amazing genetics. But don’t worry, your new dad isn’t going to walk out like the old one. He stayed with your mom (who as it turns out is a real babe with the right man encouraging her), and raised you to be just like him. He taught you how to play sports, how to workout, how to shave your hairy face, even how to make a girl putty in your hands. You were always especially talented at that last one. You’re starting to remember it aren’t you? Everything your dad taught you, how far you pushed yourself because you wanted to make him proud. You especially remember him showing him how to throw a football. In this world you were a natural.

Next is your brother. I don’t wanna give away your identity, or his, so let’s call him Brad. He’s actually your younger brother, not your older brother. You were the one who taught him how to be a man, how to be a stud, and in doing so, became an even better one yourself. As reality changes you remember growing up with him, teaching him the ropes, playing and working out with him. You even remember the girls you’d sometimes fuck together. You remember the first time you and him spitroasted a bimbo, how hot the girl looked and how proud and manly your brother was.

But let’s move on to you. In this life you took after your dad and your little brother, being a natural stud. You were a strong kid, an active kid, but puberty hit you like a dump truck. You shot up, your shoulders widened, and you gained an almost obscene amount of muscle and hair. You’ve got a different personality too. Cocky and confident, a constant flirt and a total bro. You thought you’d never settle down, fucking a different girl every night. Until… you met your wife. Yes, in this world you have a wife. She’s a bit of a bimbo, but the kindest person you’ve ever met. She enchanted you, and soon… while, you were married, and have stayed married for almost 20 years.

You’ve changed your past, your future, and everything about yourself. You’re finally the man you always wanted to be… but your kids are really the lucky ones. They’ve got awesome genetics, killer bodies, and a great dad to show them how to use it, just like how you did growing up.

#muscle growth tf #muscle tf #jock tf #jock transformation #jockification #nerd to jock #reality change #dilf tf

163 notes · View notes

wttcsms · 1 year

Text

time, mystical time (cuttin' me open, then healin' me fine) ; simon "ghost" riley.

pairing simon "ghost" riley x f!reader word count 3.3k synopsis snapshots of the defining moments in ghost's life. content contains slight angst, mild descriptions of alcohol abuse (ghost's father) + domestic abuse (non-explicit desc., but the act itself is mentioned various times), a bit of tiny look into my take on ghost's background, nsfw content, slight size kink, breeding kink, creampie, domestic fluff, pregnant!reader in some scenes, children (dad!ghost) author's notes takes place in this au & honestly is a lot more enjoyable of a read if you read that fic (+ the other connected one shots [go on my masterlist]). fun fact: simon is referred to as simon in the scenes with only you and his family. he's ghost anywhere else.

His mother had always told him that as a baby, he was always rather quiet. Scared her half to death, she would say, ‘cause he’d rarely ever cry. Even the doctor got worried when he first came out.

Looking back at his childhood — perhaps the lack thereof — Simon assumes it’s probably instinctual. With a deadbeat drunk of a father armed with a heavy hand, being quiet probably saved Simon’s life more times than he wants to admit. He’d be knocked upside the head for the littlest of reasons, shouted at for even less.

I’m the man of the house.

His father’s slurred justifications for doling out unfair punishments ring through the dark halls of his childhood home. Simon hears it while he cowers inside his closet. His room is dark because his father doesn’t believe in nightlights, and mum got slapped hard for daring to go against his wishes and trying to sneak Simon one. She thinks he didn’t see it, but Simon sees a lot more than he should. Since then, he’s been sleeping in the dark. It’s not so scary anymore.

There are scarier things that lurk in the light, anyway.

It’s stuffy in the closet, and he knows it’s stupid to hide here because dad will find him any second now. The punishment is bad when he gets to drinking, and it gets worse whenever Simon tries to hide.

A loud thump against his door makes Simon hold his breath. Then, the door bangs open from the weight.

Kicking doors open comes second nature to Lieutenant Riley.

The loud crash of the door popping from the rusty hinges shocks the poor girls previously trapped behind them. All of them stay huddled together, staring fearfully at the loud, big men toting even louder, bigger guns. The hollowed cheeks, hopeless eyes, and array of bruises on their skin makes him sick. It’s a hot summer’s day, and Simon hates that after all this time, his observation from his childhood still stands true:

There are scarier things that lurk in the light, anyway.

A bit hypocritical, he supposes. After all, he walks around in broad daylight, and he’s certainly no saint.

With the help of the rest of his extraction team, Ghost makes quick work of herding all the girls out of this depressing underground prison and out into a free world. He’s careful to be gentle with his touches, nothing more than a gentle guiding hand. Even with his gloves, he can’t be certain he’s not tainting them. Sins don’t wash away as easily as blood does.

He’s the last one to leave, but he doesn’t exit alone.

For a while, he felt a tight grip on his arm. Someone’s been clinging onto him this whole time, and with everything that’s happened, he can’t find it in his heart to shake them off. With no other distractions present, he finally turns to see who’s gotten so attached to him.

This is it.

This is the moment where Simon Riley claims his life begins.

It’s such a juvenile feeling, he thinks. Waiting for his phone to ring, wondering why you haven’t texted or called. It’s so silly. So what he saved your life? It’s not like you owe him anything. It’s his job. He had a duty. Nothing more, nothing less.

Besides, he’s an asshole. Not the type of asshole who thinks he’s entitled to your company since he rescued you, but the type where Soap and the rest of the team aren’t too surprised he doesn’t have anyone to come home to.

He can’t sleep.

It’s been weeks since he gave you that burner phone. Surely you would have called, even sent a simple “hello”, if you really wanted to. He knows there’s not much to do in that facility. He knows that you haven’t been sleeping well. He knows that he should go to sleep; he’s got an early flight to catch in an active warzone, and there’s no way in hell he’s gonna get any semblance of rest as a result.

Instead of sleeping, he’s grabbing his own burner phone off the nightstand and staring at the screen. It’s a simple enough task, really. He can just head straight to his contacts list and click the only one that’s there. Isn’t it traditional for the guy to call first, anyway? Or is he just fooling himself into thinking that you’re waiting for him to make the first move? Do you want him to make the first move?

He’s never experienced this before. This newfound, boyish anxiety. The equal mixture of both hopelessness and hope churning in his stomach every time he sees you; do you think of him as much as he thinks of you? The question is then followed by a decisive no. He hasn’t survived this long because of blind optimism, so there’s no point in indulging in it now.

Will you come back then?

You looked up at him while asking this question, and you looked like an angel unfairly punished to walk alongside man. He wanted to spend the rest of his life constructing a stairway to heaven that you could use to make it back to your rightful home. When you look that beautiful and then proceed to ask him a question, what else was he supposed to say besides,

Whenever you want me to.

Perhaps God truly is as merciful as he is all-seeing, because after a minute of contemplation and staring longingly at your contact, his phone screen lights up with the notification he’s prayed for (the only thing he’s ever prayed for, really).

You’re calling him.

And true to his word, he’s on his way.

He’s never said I love you before, and as a result, he’s too scared to make his first attempt to do so, even though you just told him those three words yourself.

(He might tower over you, but looks can be deceiving. Simon thinks you’re much stronger and braver than him, in all the ways that matter.)

I love you.

He resists the urge to beg you to say it again and again and again, on repeat for the rest of your lives.

He doesn’t say it back immediately, but he does let you take off his mask for the first time.

He doesn’t realize that the wide-eyed, awestruck, soft gleam in your eyes as you take him in, fully, for the first time is the same starry-eyed look he gets whenever he looks at you. He has a feeling you’re well aware of it, but now he finds the courage to confirm it.

“I love you.”

And with a smile that could bring him back to life, all you have to say is, “I know.”

His mask is in your hands, after all.

“You never quite outgrow it, do ya?” Tommy’s got his hands in his pockets, but Simon can still picture the wedding band on his younger brother’s finger. He had been happy when Tommy tied the knot with Beth, if not a bit jealous.

Now, though, Simon’s got his own wedding band. It’s tucked underneath his uniform, hanging from the same chain his dog tags are. It rests against his chest, in a spot closest to his heart, right where it — you — belong.

Dad’s dead. Tommy says mum cried, but he couldn’t understand why. After all, she’s the one who faced his wrath for the longest. She’s been on the receiving end of all his harshness. She’s the one who’s taken the most hits, the hardest hits. Simon nods in agreement but doesn’t tell his brother that he thinks he might know why.

Simon knows his mother is a good woman. A long time ago, his father wasn’t the man he knew growing up. He doesn’t know when the change in his personality happened, and Simon somehow feels like it’s his fault. He was the catalyst, the trigger. While she was pregnant with him, that’s when the violence and the drinking and the anger started. He knows mum isn’t crying to mourn the man he became; she’s just finally safe to grieve about the man she loved and lost. Simon hasn’t been able to face her in a while since he’s come to the conclusion that his being born was the cause of everything horrible that has happened to her.

“No, I suppose not,” Simone says. The house feels smaller than he remembers, but when he walks into his childhood bedroom, he’s transported to darker times. The room is as big as the whole world again. This room, this damn house, is his only world. He’s nine and cowering in fear again. He’s little again. He’s scared again. He wants to run away, but his scrawny little legs won’t let him. Dad won’t let him.

Then he blinks and realizes that the room hasn’t changed all that much.

Within the next week, Simon gets the house demolished and the land sold.

“Ta-da!” You present to him a knitted, baby-blue blanket. The beginning stitchwork is sloppy at best with considerable improvement the further he looks. Between every thread, Simon can practically feel the love that’s stitched in it.

“You like it?” You ask him, looking at him expectantly.

“It’s perfect.”

“Liar!” Your laugh rings through the cabin, and Simon feels like he’s being bathed in sunlight from the warmth of the sound alone. It’s distinctly yours, and he doesn’t want to be the barbarian who just takes and takes, but he wants it all to himself. He wants to catch it from the air and stuff it in his pockets and save it for when he’s in a foreign country and can’t sleep at night.

“Why would I lie? It’s perfect.” You’re perfect.

“I messed up, like, five times trying to get this damn thing started! And it was so hard to get into a good groove since Simon Jr. thinks he’s a little football player. He’s been kicking like crazy!” To prove your point, you get closer to Simon and take one of his large hands, placing it on your growing belly. He’s sitting, surrounded by tools and pieces of a crib that he’s trying to build, and all he can do is look up in admiration at you, the most beautiful woman to walk this earth, an angel too good for this world, the mother of his child, his wife, you. Your hand is on top of his, and you squeeze it gently, and he loves the way the diamond on your wedding ring glitters in the sunlight.

“He’s a strong one, alright.” Simon chuckles, feeling the way his son bumps against your belly.

“Must get it from you, then.”

That’s funny. Simon was just about to say that he’s pretty sure he gets it from you.

When he’s with you, Simon likes to take things slow. He can be rough at times, demanding and conquering you with nothing but brute strength and vulgar compliments. Like a true soldier, you take all of his transgressions in stride.

Tonight is one of the nights where Simon will indulge and finally take things slow. He likes to savor every moment he gets with you because no matter how much time has passed, the pessimist in him doesn’t stop reminding him that time is fickle, and the future is never promised.

But Simon wants to build a future with you. Simon has built a future, but he’s greedy. So, so greedy. He wants more, he wants all of you, he wants everything you’re willing to give him. The way you part your legs for him, how you willingly — lovingly — let him in, even though nature resists.

No matter how many times he’s split you open on his cock, even with the slickness of the previous two orgasms he so happily wrung out from you, there’s still resistance as the width and length of his cock struggle to slide into your cunt.

“It’s okay, love, let me in.” His whispers of reassurance are barely heard over your little whimpers. You’re nodding, trying to be a good girl for him, but the fact of the matter is that Simon Riley is incredibly too big. He is a god among men, and you find yourself squeezing his hand tightly as the first few inches of his cock make its way into your warmth.

“I know, darling.” He mumbles, but his gentle words are spoken roughly. Desire coats every syllable, and his voice is gravelly. He’s holding back, restraining himself from giving in and giving it to you roughly. His hand, so much larger than your own, squeezes back. He’s slowly pushing more of his length inside your needy cunt, and you moan at the feeling of being complete.

You don’t realize the tears that are welling up in the corner of your eyes as he completely enters you, the tip of his cock perfectly pressed against your cervix. Simon’s always been good at mixing pain and pleasure, and tonight is a testament to that.

“More, please.” It comes out like a weak, little whine, and Simon is putty in your hands. Completely malleable to your every whim and desire. His love wants more? He’ll give you everything.

Your lashes are wet with your tears, and he watches as tiny streams of tears fall down your heated cheeks. Your face feels warm to the touch, Simon realizes, as he leans down to kiss away your tears. Poor thing. You must have exerted yourself too much when you were thrashing around earlier as he refused to remove his mouth from your precious pussy until you came in his mouth.

You’re no match for the sheer strength and power of Simon, who’s built like a Greek god and probably just as powerful. You surrender to the overwhelming sensation of his cock stroking in and out of your cunt, and you’re damn near shameless in your greed and desire for more.

“Cum in me. I want you to give me another baby, wanna grow our family with you.” You toss your head back in pleasure, feeling the way his grip on your hand tightens at your words. The two of you move perfectly together; you wrap your legs around his waist as his free hand grips your hip to keep you steady.

“Yeah? My wife wants me to fuck another baby into her?” Simon grunts, doubling his efforts to ensure that his cock hits deep enough to press against all the spots that have your walls tightening around him.

The throbbing of his cock and the allure of expanding your family with Simon, with having a part of him always, even after the two of you have left this earth, is enough to send you over the edge. The ecstasy is all-consuming; all you know is Simon. You feel him to the depth of your core, his heat pressed against your own, your shared bedroom heavy with lust and love.

He loves the way your body goes slack from the intensity of your orgasm. It lets him know that he’s fucked you just the way you deserved to be fucked, filled to the brim with his cock and his cum and all his love. He kisses you hard, savoring the natural sweetness of your lips pressed against his own. He muffles your moans as you feel the endless stream of his cum spilling inside of you, the warmth of it all being almost too much to bear.

“Mmmf,” You pull back from his kiss, just so you can look him in the eyes as you give him his favorite reminder in the world.

“I love you.”

He responds with another deep kiss. It says enough. It says I love you, too, and we’re going for a round two.

He has all the time in the world with you.

He doesn’t feel any pain. That’s odd.

He looks back to the last minute. He heard the distinct sound of a gun firing, and he stumbled a bit as fate had its cruel fun and allowed the bullet to miraculously hit him in the one area his bulletproof gear just so happened to miss. What are the odds?

He looks down. A dark stain is forming on his uniform, and the spot only continues to grow bigger. He moves a hand down to where the stain is at — it’s wet. A fresh wound. Fuck.

The sentiment is shared with Soap, who for once in his life doesn’t have anything smart to say. Ghost wants to say something cheeky, then. Just to keep him calm. It worked with Tommy.

What’s the matter? Don’t worry about me. Should’ve seen the other guy. Almost had him in the last round.

The words, Ghost realizes with growing dread, don’t quite come so easily.

It’s like his brain knows what he wants to do, but nothing is going as planned. Soap is saying something, but he just can’t quite make out the words. Johnny, speak proper fucking English, why don’t ya?

No. That’s not the issue. Ghost frowns, but he doesn’t think Soap notices because of his damn mask. He can’t speak for shit, and he can’t hear, either. Actually, now that he’s really trying to take in his surroundings, everything’s a bit hazy, too. Like someone’s put some stupid film over everything, and stuff’s all slightly blurry. Just out of focus, just out of reach.

“—get you home, alright?” The words sound all jumbled up, and Ghost only really catches the last end of whatever Soap’s blabbing on about. He’s a good kid. Great soldier. Stellar human being. He mentioned something about going home, but that’s just silly. The mission isn’t over yet, get it? They can’t go home ‘til the mission’s complete.

“—don’t close your eyes—”

Home sounds nice. Warm vanilla in the colder seasons, jasmine with equal hints of something fruity and floral in the warmer ones. You fill the house with these scents, even matching your daily perfume to it. Doesn’t matter much to him, though. He hugs you close to his body and breathes in deeply, and he can still smell just you. No perfume will ever compare.

Oh, and a busy kitchen. You’re covered in flour, his son sits on the counter, his daughter in her high chair. The entire kitchen comes to life, and every time he sees all three of you giggling in unison, his favorite sound of all, this kitchen becomes his whole world. This is what he goes to war to protect.

Baby blue walls and a crib. Crayon drawings of a stick figure family. Watching his daughter’s first steps and his son clinging to your legs.

Maybe Soap’s right. Forget the mission. He should just head home.

But first, he’s really fucking tired. He’ll shut his eyes just for a minute.

He blinks a few times, eyes struggling to adjust to the light. Light slaps against his face were the cause for his waking up. A damn shame, honestly. He rarely dreams, but when he does, it’s of you, and he was dreaming about something certainly worth remembering for the next time he’s reunited with you.

He rolls over to confront whoever dared to ruin the one good rest he’s had in a long time, only to come face to face with bright, innocent eyes the same shade as his own.

“G’morning,” his son says, the words still clumsy on the two-year-old’s tongue. When Simon doesn’t answer immediately, he resumes slapping his father’s face.

“I’m up, buddy.”

The little toddler claps his chubby little hands together in pure joy.

“Dada home?”

Like a sight for sore eyes, you appear in the doorway, gently opening the door and pushing it open. You’ve got your daughter in your arms, and you look ready to scold the young boy for disturbing Simon until you realize that he’s already awake. There’s that smile of yours that Simon loves so much, the one he swears could bring him back to life.

“I’m home.”

author's note i intended for these little scenes/glimpses of his life to be the things ghost sees as he's bleeding out on the field. get it? the whole "life flashing before your eyes" thing BAHAHAHA. don't worry, he's alive and very much well, enjoying much needed domesticity with you + your little family. the last scene is him fucking u good and well, and that's the lil dream he was having. muahaha

#ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #one shot #drabble #fluff #angst #cod mw2 x reader #cod mw2 smut #ghost smut #simon riley smut

541 notes · View notes

joekeeryswife · 1 year

Text

Deadbeat dad - e.m

hello angels! i hope you’re all okay. i am not after writing this, i’m legit in floods of tears. it is a sad dad/rockstar!eddie. i am legit heartbroken at this omfg. anyway, enjoy reading🩷 eddie’s part two x steve’s part two x

taglist (add yourselves 🩷) @eddieamoremio @theshireisonfire @thankingjoe @livsters @sadbitchfangirl @hellfire1986baby @ladyapplejackdnd @alexxavicry @juleshadalittlelamb @hollandweather @lovurry @bibieddiesgf @plk-18 @Heyyimmissunderstood @m-rae23 @sheisjoeschateau @hargrovesswifee @shiftingmack @chxrrysprxut @Idkjoequinn (if there’s a line through your @ i can’t tag you, lmk if you’ve changed your name🩷)

"i can't make it today, i'm really really busy" you sighed, rubbing your forehead with your free hand as you held the phone to your ear with your other. "this can't keep happening Eddie, she has been wanting to see you for weeks now" this was the third time this month Eddie had cancelled.

your sweet girl Penny had been ecstatic when Eddie spoke to her last week to say that he would be here this weekend and he wasn't. "well i'm sorry y/n but i have things to do. this band is really important to me" you weren't shocked. Eddie had always put the band before his family, that was why you and Eddie split up.

"she's your daughter, she can't fit her life around you anymore. she should be more important then that stupid band you have" you could hear Penny's footsteps upstairs meaning she was now awake. "you know what fuck you. i'm busy all the time and i've only cancelled once, get over yourself" you scoffed, not wanting to argue over the phone you asked one simple question.

"are you going to be here for her birthday next Saturday?" you just hoped for once that he would put his daughter first, she loved him but he just left her hanging all the time. "yes y/n i'll be there. what time" he sounded uninterested, like he didn't really care for the party but it was important to her that he was there.

you felt a little glimmer of hope that maybe he would change and make an effort for one day "be here by three, let me know before if you can't come because i'll have to tell her-" he cut you off "i got it bye" with that he ended the phone slamming it down harshly. you put the phone down and heard Penny quickly approaching the living room.

"mama i need to get ready for daddy" you looked at her with a sympathetic smile. her curls were all over the place but she looked so adorable, holding the small bear she had gotten for her first birthday. you opened your arms for her and she climbed into your lap allowing you to wrap your arms around her, you kissed her forehead a couple of times and sighed.

"daddy can't make it today sweetheart" you felt her shoulders drop. "but why?" her voice was quiet and filled with sadness making your heart break. you brushed her curls out of her face and stroked her cheek "i don't know baby". you saw her cuddle her teddy bear closer and felt her sigh deeply.

"it's okay mama we can do something together right?" she looked up at you as you looked down at her. her eyes were exactly like her dads, it was like looking at a mini Eddie was staring up at you. she only got a few features from you but she was beautiful, the prettiest little girl.

you smiled and nodded your hand running through her hair "of course we can, you pick" she smiled at you and thought about what she would like to do that day and you just prayed that Eddie made it to her party. it was one day, would he really miss his daughters birthday?

"is daddy coming today mama?" you heard Penny say as you set up the snack table in your spacious living room ready for the party which was in a few hours. you turned to look at her, she was dressed in a white dress with her curls laying perfectly in a ponytail. "i think so honey, he told me he was coming so i don't see why not"

today was the day you would see if Eddie would show up for his daughter. one day that was so special to her and you were still hoping that he would show up and surprise you all. Steve and Robin had come over to help with everything around the house and you were so grateful to have friends like them, who were willing to take the time to come to your house and help you.

"come on birthday girl, why don't we go upstairs and play with your toys" Robin said as she left you to finish up the snack table. once you heard her bedroom door close you sighed, you knew the chances were very slim that Eddie would show up and you just hoped that he would prove you wrong.

Steve was on a step ladder hanging up a huge banner when he turned to look at you, being careful he wouldn't fall off. "do you think he will turn up?" everyone who knew the situation with you and Eddie knew it was very unlikely that he would turn up.

"i don't think so but i can't say that to her today, i'm just hoping that he does. not for me but for her she deserves it" it had been three years since you and Eddie split up and he had seen Penny maybe 20 times. it went from him seeing her every time he came back here from work to him not making the effort in showing up for her.

"he is being stupid. if he doesn't show up he it's unforgivable. i'll punch him if you need me too" you laughed loudly. it was well known that Steve was not a good fighter but you appreciated the thought. "with your track record i think we should leave the fighting" you smiled at him and looked up at the clock on the wall.

three o'clock had been and gone meaning the party would start soon. "i think Wayne has taken the day off to see her though so that's nice. all her friends are coming so if he doesn't she might be distracted enough to not notice" Steve felt sad for you but especially Penny.

he knew what it was like to have parents that didn't care, didn't bother showing up and he was happy that Penny had you. you always went above and beyond for her and he always admired it. you heard the doorbell ring making you smooth out your dress "it looks perfect okay? i'll go get Penny you open the door" Steve stepped down from the ladder and took it with him as he left you.

you walked to the front door and looked through the peephole to see Wayne standing there with a small, neatly wrapped gift in his hand. "hi Wayne" you said as you opened the door with a smile on your face. Wayne smiled and opened his arms to greet you, you were lucky you always had an amazing relationship with Wayne.

he was always here when you needed him, he helped loads when you and Eddie split up and he always made time for Penny which was the most important thing. "how you doing?" you pulled away from the hug and moved to the side so he could come in.

"i'm okay, very emotional. i can't believe she's five, she's growing up" you followed him into the living room and sat down next to him on the sofa. "i know, seems like only yesterday i got the call from ed's that she'd been born" he instantly realised what he had said and stuttered out an apology which you dismissed "it's okay really, it's a happy memory" it was a touchy subject and you knew Wayne had no ill intentions saying that.

"grandpa Wayne" you heard Penny scream as she saw her grandad was here. "hi princess" he smiled as she ran to him and squealed when he picked her up and placed her on his lap so he could cuddle her. "happy birthday" he kissed her forehead and you smiled at the interaction.

even though bad things happened between you and Eddie, Wayne was always there to tell him that what he did was stupid and that he'd let go of the best thing that would ever happen to him, he was also there for you when you and for that you were forever grateful. Wayne never left.

"did you get everything you wanted" he asked as the two pulled away. you wanted to stay and watch the two of them but another knock at the door pulled you away from the small group.

the next people to arrive were Nancy, Jonathan, Dustin, Will and Mike. you could see a few cars pulling up outside your house so after you greeted them you kept the door open and waiting for them. you could hear Penny giggling in the living room which meant she was happy and that was all that mattered to you today.

once everyone was in the party the kids were dancing and singing whilst the adults lingered around the living room and kitchen talking to one another. you saw Penny and Lottie, one of her school friends dancing with one another making your heart swell with adoration. she looked just looked so happy.

you were standing with Dustin and Steve, watching the kids closely just incase something was to happen. "so, where's Eddie?" Dustin asked as he looked around the room you only sighed and shook your head. "i don't know, i told him to be here at three and it's now four thirty"

you knew something like this would happen just like your gut feeling was telling you it would. "maybe he's just running a little late? i mean it's his daughters birthday for gods sake he needs to be here for her" Dustin rolled his eyes and Steve felt anger filling his body. how could someone do something like this to Penny? the sweetest little girl didn't deserve this.

"i doubt it Dustin. its been almost a month since he last saw her and every weekend he tells her he's gonna be here and then that day rolls around and he isn't. she is heartbroken every time and i'm honestly so close to just cutting off visitation, it's not like he sees her anyway" Dustin nodded and scratched the back of his neck, Eddie was his friend but it was getting harder and harder to defend him.

"he's unfortunately going to find out the hard way, have you told him how this is making her feel?" you nodded and looked at Penny again who had the biggest smile on her face as she danced with more of her friends. "of course i have, every time i get hit with the 'this band is so important to me' but i just keep remembering what it was like before Corroded Coffin took off you know?"

before the band got recognition he worked as a mechanic with Wayne, he made time for you and Penny but it was like as soon as they got the fame he didn't care. his priority changed. "he used to care, he was an amazing dad and i loved him but now i'm stuck wondering how can one person change so quickly. she loves her dad and it breaks my heart seeing her excitement fade as soon as i tell her he isn't coming. it's just too much for her, it's too much for me"

you looked up at the ceiling as you felt tears fill your eyes, you could feel your lip tremble as you tried to keep them in. of course when you and Eddie broke up it broke you, you thought the two of you would be together forever and just seeing the man you love change within a few weeks hurt you badly.

"hey no no don't cry, he isn't worth your tears honey. you're doing an incredible job and he's an asshole" you felt Steve's arm wrap around your shoulders as he pulled you in for a hug. you took a deep breath shocked that you were managing to keep these tears at bay. "it's just one day that i wish he tried, i can manage the other times but it's her birthday and he can't even show up" both boys nodded and you felt Steve's hand stroke your arm.

"he's a dick, but i promise you have all of us and i know it's not how you envisioned your family but you make that little girl so happy and you've done it all on your own. let's try forget about him and enjoy it yeah?" you nodded and kissed Steve’s cheek.

it was now nearing the end of Penny’s party and she was sat on the small sofa which was by the window overlooking the front garden watching as each car drove by the house. she was hoping that one of them would stop and her dad would be there to surprise her but every time the car didn’t stop she felt sadness fill her body.

“sweetheart, everyone’s in the kitchen ready to do your birthday cake” you said as you walked into the living room. “daddy’s not coming is he” you could hear the upset in her voice and it just broke you. you sighed and walked to her and sat down next to her, it was just big enough to fit the two of you.

you stroked her cheek softly and nodded “i don’t think so baby, i’m so sorry” you just watched as she nodded, she wasn’t sulking but you could tell she was really upset. “do you think we could call him maybe? maybe he’s stuck in a jam” you knew what she meant, a traffic jam was a common excuse that you had used for Eddie not turning up.

“of course we can” you got up and walked to the phone which was by the tv and dialled Eddie’s number. the phone rang but of course there was no answer and you watched as she got up from the sofa a frown on her face. she walked to you and held out her hand so she could take the phone as she heard the voicemail beep meaning she could leave a message.

“daddy. are you coming to my party, i miss you” with no response she placed the phone back down on the holder and you kneeled down. she grabbed your hand tightly “it’s okay sweet girl, we will sort it i promise. come on everyone’s waiting for you” you kissed her cheek and stood up so the two of you could walk to the kitchen.

it was evident that she was sad as she listened to everyone sing happy birthday to her and when she blew out her candles, she wished that her dad would turn to her party and surprise her. but her wish unfortunately never came true.

it had been a week since Penny’s birthday party and you hadn’t heard from Eddie at all, he never returned the voice message Penny left and you couldn’t help but cry once Penny was in bed and everyone except Steve and Robin had left. you couldn’t get that sad look on her face out of your mind.

today Steve was round and had decided he was going to take you and Penny out to the mall for some shopping and some ice cream, he had promised Penny last week when she was sat on his lap crying into his neck that Eddie didn’t turn up.

it was four o’clock and all three of you were finally ready to go to the mall, Steve and Penny were in her room finishing up a puzzle they had started that morning. it was an easy one but Steve had acted like he didn’t understand it which made Penny explain it in what he described as the most perfect explanation he had ever heard.

you were putting on your shoes and waiting for them to finish up when a knock at your door pulled you out of your thoughts. you opened the door and was shocked to see Eddie standing there with a gift in his hands. “hey y/n, where is everyone. the party started an hour ago” he tried to brush past you but your hand stopped him from coming in.

“the party you’re talking about was last week Eddie, you knew that” you were furious, he’d turned up a week late. “no it’s not it’s today” you shook your head. “it wasn’t Eddie and if you answered your phone you would know that it was last week. did you not listen to the voicemail Penny left you?”

he shook his head and ran a hand through his hair “look i thought it was this weekend, it’s only a week why does it matter. i’ve come to spend the day with her” you scoffed and shook you head again, it was almost laughable.

“you’re joking with me right? you think that you can just turn up here a week late and act like that’s not okay? it was one day where i had begged you to come and you couldn’t even make the effort to show up. she’s devastated Eddie, you promised her” you almost shouted but you didn’t want to alert Penny and Steve that Eddie was here, you wanted him to leave.

“she’s busy today, like i said she doesn’t fit around your schedule anymore” Eddie rolled his eyes “i’m her dad, you can’t just stop me from seeing her” you looked him up and down, you hadn’t even realised how terrible he looked. pale, lifeless.

“you are no father Eddie, you stopped being her dad the minute your band got fame. you have no idea what it’s like to see her get hurt over and over again when you decide to not show up. maybe it’s because you’re with one of your groupies or maybe you’re too busy that day getting high with your friends i don’t care, i asked for one day. one day where you’d prove me wrong and you couldn’t even make the effort to see her on her birthday”

you just felt sad, he was nothing like the Eddie you had fallen in love with all those years ago but now when you see him you just feel angry, hurt and disgusted. “i’m sorry okay? i’ve come here to see her and i’d like to if you’d let me. i am her dad y/n and we can’t change that”

you head heavy footsteps walking down the stairs and footsteps approaching the door. you turned your head as you heard Penny laugh loudly at something Steve had said to her making Eddies focus change from you to her. she was in Steve’s arms hugging him exactly like she used to hug him and that hurt.

it took Steve a minute but he finally noticed Eddie standing there with a small gift in his hands. “oh shit” he whispered, his smile falling as he noticed yours and his hurt expression on your faces, both for completely different reasons. “hi Penny” she looked at the voice and saw Eddie standing there.

he had a small smile on his face as he took in her features. big brown eyes, curly hair which was exactly like his and lips, it was all him except for the small button nose she had obviously gotten from you. she looked at him with no expression, still hurt from what happened last weekend.

she turned away from him and dug her face into Steve’s neck. he took that as an indication that she didn’t want to see him so he walked away to the living room. Eddies smile dropped as he watched her and Steve walk away.

“he can’t just walk away with her, i wanted to see her. im her dad y/n, you can’t just take her away from me” he wasn’t angry, he was hurt that she’d turned away from him like that. “she doesn't see you as a dad anymore Eddie because you're never here” it hurt to tell him that but it was the truth.

his breathing stuttered as he heard that. yes he hadn’t been the perfect dad but he loved that little girl even if he didn’t show it. his eyes filled with tears, he wanted to say more, he wanted to stand there and fight but he didn’t want to cry in front of you so all he did was nod and hand the gift over to you. he bowed his head “i’m gonna uhh, try and change. i’m sorry y/n i really am” with that he walked away.

“i hope so Eddie” you whispered as you watched him walk to his car. you really did hope so.

808 notes · View notes

canadianfangirl-95 · 3 days

Text

Window of Opportunity

Frankie Morales fanfiction x f! reader

Summary: Years spent with the wrong guy leaves you desperate for true love and single again. Will Frankie be able to squeeze into the window of opportunity and confess his feelings, or will he miss his shot again?

Warnings: swearing, deadbeat boyfriend, talks of infidelity, drinking, friends to lover’s, fluff, kissing

Picture is just for the banner, does not indicate readers appearance.

Word Count: 6k+

“Alright it’s Thirsty Thursday guys, what can I get you?” You say with a smile spread across your face, staring at your favourite customers and some of your best friends, Santi, Will, Benny and Frankie. They themselves have been coming into this bar for 6 years, after they were all discharged from the army and relocated to Fort Lauderdale. You’ve worked at this bar for almost 8 years now, having gotten the job in your mid-twenties to make some extra cash. It was only supposed to be temporary but here you are all these years later, still with an apron wrapped around your waist, a pen tucked behind your ear and shuffling around behind the old wood bar, illuminated by the neon beer signs.

Santi offers you a kind wink as he settles onto the bar stool across from you, “Just a Rum and Coke sweetheart.” His effervescent smile shining as bright as always.

Nodding, you begin to make the drink, while Benny and Will offer up their orders. Finally, Frankies sweet brown eyes meet yours and your lungs feel a bit lighter. “And what about our pilot?” you ask sweetly.

He grins just enough for some of his teeth to peek out below his mustache and tucks his hand under his chin, “Surprise me Skip.”

Smirking, you begin to whip him up your favourite and slide it over to him on the bar.

Taking it, he smiles, “Should’ve guessed it’d be a Whisky Sour.”

“Hey, pick your own drinks if you don’t like my favourite.” You say with a huffed laugh, knowing that despite them not being his type of drink, he’ll sip it down anyway. “How has your week been?”

“Good, picked up Camila from JK on Monday so now she’s with me until next week Friday morning. She’s having some much-needed Abuela time right now.”

“That’s good, everything still good with Liv?” You ask intently.

He shrugs, “Yeah I’d say so, we’re doing pretty well at the whole coparenting thing now that negotiations are over.”

You reach over and pat his hand that rests on the bar top, “Good, you’re a good dad Frankie. I’m glad you’re able to enjoy her again.”

His ears and cheeks grow red, and his eyes soften, he whispers to you, “Thanks Skip, couldn’t do it without you.”

Pulling your lips into a tight smile, you bat your lashes a bit to relax and turn your attention back to the rest of the group, “So, Will, how was the trip? Did you pick a venue?”

Will nods, “Yeah, Orange County is really beautiful. It was tough picking just one place to have the wedding at, but we put a deposit down on a winery, so now we have a date which is great.” He says with a smile plastered across his face.

“Oh, that’s great, Wendy must be so excited. Especially since it can be so close to her family.” You say before you notice the server drop down some chits on the other end of the bar. “Oh, I’ll be back guys.” You say before departing down the bar to work on the new orders.

Later, you are standing cutting limes in front of the men, talking and laughing causally when the bell on the door chimes again. You look up, seeing your boyfriend Marcus step through the door and scan the room for you. The rest of the group turn their heads slightly to see what has caught your attention.

Frankie grumbles to himself as he peers over his drink to see your boyfriend strutting towards the bar. His overbuilt muscles and $50 hair cut speak volumes about his personality. “Why’s Marcus here?”

Will nudges his shoulder with a shush, Frankies eyes widen slightly realizing his voice was a tad bit higher than it should have been. Luckily for him, you had already moved down the bar towards Marcus. “He’s here to see his girlfriend, idiot. Why wouldn’t he be here?” Will says sarcastically.

“He only visits her at work when he needs money.” Frankie states matter-of-factly under his breath.

“That’s none of your business man, play nice.”

With that Frankie rolls his eyes and stares Santi down the bar with an annoyed look on his face. Santi nods and takes his hint. Standing from the stool he calls over to you, “Hey Skip, we’re gonna be at the pool table.” The rest of them follow his lead and stand with their drinks to head over to the other side of the room.

You nod and smile at them before turning your attention back to Marcus.

“Why do they call you Skip anyway?” Marcus asks, leaning his body weight on the bar top.

You shrug and smile to yourself, “One time, they were the only ones in the bar, like it was completely dead, and so we played Uno. The guys were such assholes every time it was one of their turns before me, they played a skip card. I swear I got every skip a turn card the whole night.” You say, laughing slightly until you see the utterly unamused face of your boyfriend staring back at your explanation. Swallowing your laughter quickly you clear your throat, “Um, and so yeah, they just call me Skip now because of uh…’cuz of that.”

His face hangs low with uninterest, “Huh, guess you didn’t get many tips that night huh?”

Pulling your face tight you reply, “No, I guess not.”

“Does that happen often? Maybe you should find a different place to work where you can make more money.”

“Um, no it doesn’t happen a lot. I think there was a storm that day.” You say quietly before stepping to the side to grab your wallet. “So, uh- how much did you say you needed for this football thing again?”

He rolls his eyes exasperated, “Babe, it’s my fraternity brothers NFL fantasy league, it’s not just some football thing. And the buy in is $200.”

Your eyebrows pop up, “Geeze, that’s kind of steep, isn’t it?”

“It’s not about that, it’s about the networking I do with it, alright?” Marcus says.

Nodding, you hand him the cash from your wallet, and he takes it with a giant smile, “Thanks babe, you’re the best you know that right?” He says before leaning across the bar and planting a kiss on your cheek.

You say your goodbyes and wipe your sweaty hands on your jeans, letting out a deep breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

Across the room, Frankie watches you fidget after your uncomfortable meeting with your boyfriend. He stands near the pool table holding his stick standing straight up and leaning some weight on it. “What is she still doing with that guy?” He asks the group.

Benny huffs, “Wish I knew. Every time we hang out it’s always Marcus did this, and Marcus won’t do that. It’s like she’s his mom”

Will steps up to the table and leans forward to take his shot, “He seriously doesn’t mind the two of you hanging out as much as you do?”

“Nope, she even asked him before the first time we went to the movies if it was okay, and the guy is so fucking full of himself he said there’s no way she would ever find better than him, so he doesn’t worry about her cheating at all. In fact, one time he even thanked me for “listening to all her bull shit” so he doesn’t have to.” He says with air quotes and a sarcastic tone.

Santi shakes his head, “What a dick. Why won’t she just end it with him?”

Benny steps up to the red-felt pool table and eyes his shot that his brother has set up for him by accident. “Oh, she’s still holding out hope that he’ll man up and pop the question and then things will be better. Not gonna happen though, I think he’s cheating.”

With that Frankie straightens up, “Why do you say that?”

“He’s shady as shit, she works evenings and a lot of weekends, you think an asshole like that is really just waiting around for her watching Game of Thrones by himself every night?”

“So, you don’t have any proof then?” Will comments.

“Well, don’t tell her I told you this. But a few months ago, she got a DM from a girl that she knows, claiming he was hitting on her at a bar across town. But this girl knew Skip and recognized him from her social media, so she turned him down and messaged her. When Skip asked him about it, he said he wasn’t hitting on her, he was just trying to make some female friends, since you know, she has so many male friends.” he says, pointing around the pool table at the group of them and shaking his head at the obvious lie.

They all groan in response and look over at you at the bar, working tirelessly to pay for yourself and your deadbeat boyfriends’ lifestyle. All the while he’s probably sneaking around behind your back and then dipping in to steal a kiss and some cash.

Behind the bar, you stare blankly at the faucet on the sink, seeing your angled reflection in it. Your face looks sad, your eyes tired and your heart sunken. All you want, all you’ve ever wanted, was a relationship, an engagement, a marriage, a house and a family. It’s what you grew up in, it’s what your sister has. The white picket fence, the husband that kisses her at the door when he gets home, the two beautiful children she chases around all day. In your early twenties, it seemed like something that was guaranteed. Then it was just disappointing man after another until you finally found yourself on a date with Marcus 6 years ago. He was handsome and charming, and after a year you settled into a nice routine. But year after year you asked for a ring and never got one. One thing you could control was the house, so you saved everything you had to buy both of you one, thinking that would kickstart the conversation again. Yet here you are, a cold finger and your love for a man long gone, but 6 years too long invested in the relationship to bow out now.

Grabbing a washcloth, you decide to take out your frustrations through cleaning up the bar top, using all the bent-up anger you felt towards your life to scrub off that damn stain you’ve never been able to get off. You peer up through your lashes and see the guys at the pool table, seemingly in deep discussion. You wonder if they’re shit talking your boyfriend. You wouldn’t blame them if they were, you wish you could join them. Frankie rounds the table and bends over to take his shot. His t shirt stretching across his broad shoulders, his curly locks peeking out from underneath the baseball hat you loved to see him in. Frankie, a man who actually talked about wanting a marriage one day but lost it all when his girlfriend fell in love with someone at work. He says they were mostly together for their child that they had accidentally gotten pregnant with and that he could move on. Not seeing his baby girl every day was by far the hardest part for him.

Frankie was different than the others to you. Santi was your advice guy, always offering his words of wisdom. Will was your hands on guy. Need your breaks done on your car? Will’s got it. Need an Ikea cabinet put together? Will’s on it. Benny is your bestie, your movie and sushi date guy. Your talk shit about your boyfriend guy. But Frankie, Frankie is your if things were different guy. If you weren’t with Marcus, if he was ever even interested in you. Maybe, he could be something more, just by the way you talk so earnestly with one another, you knew he would never treat you the way Marcus does. And boy was he cute. You wish you felt bad when you would find yourself thinking about him late at night instead of your boyfriend laying a foot away from you. You figure after his failed relationship he is probably done with anything serious, maybe just date casually for the next few years and then settle down with someone as a companion. Surely, he wouldn’t be interested in learning about how lovesick you are over him and ruining your friendship and his favourite hangout-.

A hand suddenly grabs yours to hold it still as you look up and see Frankie looking at you with concerned eyes. You look back down at the bar and see that during your whole internal monologue, you had still been scrubbing the stain and now the pain in your wrist was starting to register just how aggressive you were being with it. Pulling your hand out of his grip you toss the rag into the bucket and slowly rub your wrist with your hand, avoiding eye contact with the man across from you.

He breathes deeply out of his nose and grabs some of the paper towel you have on the counter to wipe up the soap and water on the spot. He pulls a half smirk and looks at you, “Looks like you finally got that stain huh?”

You peer over and see that it is indeed gone, certainly needed some elbow grease.

“You okay?” he asks. The very last question you want to answer right now.

Doing your best impression of a girl who is going to be okay, you nod and suck your teeth before muttering out, “Yeah, yeah just, - really fucking hated that stain.”

Frankie can see the tears that want to spill over your eyes, knowing you the way he does, he knows very well that you do not want to lose it right there behind the bar. “Alright well, could I get another delicious Whisky Sour please?” he says with a boyish grin on his face.

Looking up at him through your lashes you let out a chuckle, “I thought you didn’t like them.”

“People change.” He states.

His words dry your throat, and you do your best to nod and go on making his drink. Hoping his statement to be true.

The night wears on and you say your goodbyes. You close up shop and head home to Marcus, playing every moment of the night through again in your head and hoping to make that people change statement a reality, whether it be you or Marcus.

Sunday is your day off, and you and the guys planned a backyard BBQ at Will and Wendys to commemorate the end of summer.

Frankie steps through the patio doors into the backyard. A red and white striped umbrella is stretched out over the patio table and chairs where Santi is seated comfortably talking with Wendy while Will works on the grill. He moves to sit down across from Santi and says hello to everyone.

Wendy excuses herself to go work on the salad for dinner, and Frankie stares at the door she exits through, hoping you may come through it. Alas, you still don’t show up after another ten minutes, so he turns to Santi.

“When are uh, Ben and Skip getting here?” Frankie asks, urging his voice to sound less eager than it does.

Santi gives him a knowing look, “Ben told Will yesterday they may be a bit late cuz Ben had to go out of town this afternoon to pick up some stuff from their moms, she went with him for the drive.”

Frankie nods and brings his cold beer to his lips, excited at the notion that Marucs won’t be joining them after all.

A half hour later, Frankie, Santi and Will are seated at the patio table as Wendy finishes up in the kitchen. Their attention is pulled from their conversation when they hear Bennys boisterous voice call out to her as he moves through the kitchen and to the sliding patio door.

“No Skip?” Santi calls out, as he notices Bennys lonely walk towards them. Frankie and Will look up from their plates of appetizers to observe your apparent absence for themselves.

The younger man has a surprisingly pleased look on his face as he slides into the chair next to Will. “You’re never gonna believe this. They broke up.” He states with excitement burning behind his eyes.

The group looks perplexed for a beat, Will asks to clarify “Who broke up?”

“Skip and Marcus.” Benny says, popping his eyebrows up and down and nudging Frankie’s shoulder.

Frankie’s eyes blow wide, unable to believe what he was hearing. His ears ring and before he knows it, he’s lost part of the conversation, gripping his beer bottle tighter he tries to focus on the flow of questions coming Bennys way from Will and Santi.

Santi leans forward on the glass tabletop, “What happened?”

“She finally had enough. I guess she tried to talk to him again last night about getting engaged and just like all the other times, he made up shitty excuses, so she dumped him right there on the spot. Took all her shit and is staying with her sister right now until they get the house sold and her money back. She called me this morning to tell me she couldn’t come today.”

“How’s she doing? She okay?” Will asks, concern growing in his voice.

Shrugging, Benny replies, “As good as she can be, I think. They were together a long time, and she feels like it was all wasted. He’s such a jackass.” He says before shoving some chips from a bowl on the table into his mouth.

Will glances at Frankie, “So Fish, girl of your dreams finally single. What do you think about that?”

His eyebrows almost get caught in his hair line and he stutters, “I uh- what. Don’t know what you’re talking about Will.” he says, trying to slurp down his beer before he puts his foot in his mouth instead.

Shaking his head he dives deeper, “Don’t give me that shit man, we owe nothing to that guy. You’ve always liked her, you’ve been respectful, but now she’s fair game.”

Santi nods along, “Yeah, we all know man. It’s pretty obvious.”

Benny and Will nod along to Santis’ statement as Frankie looks around flabbergasted. “Seriously? Does she know?”

“Nah, I don’t think so. She’s been too caught up in her own shit to notice.” Benny confirms.

“But now’s the time to make a move, alright? Don’t let the window of opportunity close. Girls like that don’t stay single long.” Santi comments, giving Frankie a stern look.

Frankie nods, “I can’t just ask her out the day after her relationship ended, she needs time to process this. I don’t want to be a rebound. I’ll let her sell the house, get her shit together, and then I promise I’ll talk to her.” He says defensively.

“You better, because I’m not listening to her complain about another shitty boyfriend for half a decade.” Benny says, tapping his hand on the table and peering up at the sky, thinking about all the nights he’s had to hear you cry about how Marcus wouldn’t commit to you, even your house was bought by you, him not wanting to invest too much of his savings in case it didn’t work out between the two of you.

“I don’t think any of us want to see her go through that again, and Frankie man, you’d be perfect together. I hope it works out for you.” Will says, reaching over to pat Frankie on the chest.

Frankie nods, “How do I do this without looking like a total jackass who just wants to take advantage of her vulnerable state though?” he asks inquisitively.

Santi shakes his head, “Frankie, Frankie, always counting yourself out before you get in the game. Any girl would be lucky to get a man like you, just have some faith in yourself alright?”

Before they can continue the conversation, Wendy waltzes up to the table with salads in tow. “Alright everybody, time to dig in.”

Thursday comes around again; you have switched shifts with the other bartender for a very exciting reason. Each of the guys had reached out in their own ways after they got the news on Sunday, simple texts and calls here and there, all trying to be as delicate as possible.

Skipping through the door, you make your way over to the booth the guys are situated at. Santi spots you first and gestures to you for the rest of the group to turn and look. They all grin when they see your smile, your hair done exactly how you like it best, a white sundress with brown flowers and brown sandals finishing off the look. Frankies eyes light up seeing your sunny appearance and blossoming self-confidence.

“Whoa, what are you all dressed up for?” Santi whistles, taking in your ensemble.

Smiling brightly, you stand in front of the booth and state, “I have a date.”

Their faces drop entirely, and Frankie can swear you could hear his heart fall to the floor and roll down between the booths like a child dropping candy in church.

Will is the first to pick his jaw up from his chest and stutter out, “A date?”

Nodding you reply, “Yep, I’m meeting him soon for drinks and appetizers but I needed to swing by here first for my pay cheque.”

Santi waves his hands casually in the air as he formulates a question. “Don’t you think that’s a little soon, I mean, you and Marcus broke up last week.”

“I know, I know trust me I’ve heard it already from my sister. But I’m not really grieving the relationship ‘cuz to be honest, I fell out of love with Marcus a long time ago, but I just had already invested all that time and energy, so I wanted to make it work. But, since he’s a total asshat, I have now had no choice but to move on and there’s no time like the present. I don’t want to have wasted 6 years with him and then 6 months waiting for the “right time” to start dating again and then another 2 years trying to meet the right person.” You take a deep breath, trying not to get too worked up over your current situation and pinch your eyes closed for a moment. “I just want…. All I’ve wanted this whole time is a marriage and a family and I’m frankly running out of time. So, I hopped on the dating apps and met this guy Sean, and now we’re going on a first date and then I guess we’ll see what happens from there.” You finish your sentence out of breath and out of options. If Marcus wasn’t your person, and you were too scared to see if Frankie would be interested in you, then this would have to do.

Frankie can’t believe his ears. He’s already missed the window of opportunity. You’re going to go on a date with this guy, he’s going to fall madly in love with you, because how could he not and whether you like him or not, you’ll stay with him another 6 years just like Marcus. You just want it so badly, that you’ve grown careless with your heart. His stomach is turning in his seat as he tries not to look at Santi, whose eyes he can feel burning into him with a plea to stop this madness.

The uncomfortable silence finally creeps through your skin and makes you eager to leave. Their shocked and unapproving faces with no acknowledgement of what you have said has you unsettled and honestly kind of annoyed. Looking over your shoulder, you spot your manager and nod to her briefly. “Well, um, I’m gonna go get my cheque and then head out.” Turning quickly, you miss the way their heads all spin to Frankie whose mouth still lay low.

Benny finally speaks once you are out of ear shot, “What the fuck?” He throws his hands into his hair and looks around the table dumbstruck.

Will is shaking his head and chewing his bottom lip, Santi is still looking at Frankie as if trying to use secret superpowers to control his body and make him rush after you. Frankie is silent, picking at the label on his cold beer as the condensation loosens the adhesive on the fish picture laden across the front.

Santi finally breaks his stare and leans in closer, “You gonna do anything about this Fish?”

Frankie shrugs, “Nothing I can do. You heard her, she’s moving on.”

“From Marcus, not from you.”

“Same difference.” He sighs, blowing all the air and joy out of his lungs.

Shaking his head Santi straightens up in his seat. “No, it’s not the same man. She has no idea you have feelings for her and I’m willing to bet if you told her to cancel that date, she would in a heartbeat.”

Shaking his head he sighs, “You don’t know that man, what if I fall flat on my face with her. There’s no going back.”

Will leans his elbows on the table, “Fish, you gotta start believing in yourself more. I know what happened with Liv was really hard on you but-,”

“But it wasn’t.” Frankie states. Upon being met with the confused eyes of his comrades he continues with shaky breathes, “It wasn’t hard. I liked Liv, felt something similar to love at times when it was easy, but it wasn’t hard when she left, because she wasn’t Skip.” His voice trails off with his confession.

The familiar sound of your sandals hitting the hard wood floors snaps the group out of their trance, they turn to look at you with desperate eyes, unsure what to say as you stop for a beat in front of them.

“Alright well, got my cheque.” You say awkwardly, raising the envelope up slightly in your hand. “You guys have a good night.” You tuck your chin down and don’t wait for their goodbyes. They’re being completely weird after all, gawking at you with open mouths like it’s the worst mistake of your life to go on this date.

Stepping through the bar door you’re hit with the humidity of a late summer night. The sun was already setting leaving a low glow across the sky. You stand for a second, squeezing your eyes and urging the thoughts of Frankie out of your mind in an effort to stop the trickle of tears that would surely flow if you let yourself convince yourself that this wasn’t a mistake. Convince yourself you should go back in that bar and put it all on the line, even if it meant you’d fall with no safety net and lose him for good. That just wasn’t your style though, you didn’t free fall, you didn’t trust the universe. You needed certainty, and right now, the only certainty was that there was a handsome guy, who actually expressed interest in you waiting at a different bar, ready and willing to give you a shot. Taking one last look over your shoulder, you let your breath out and head to your vehicle.

Frankie and the guys sit in silence, unsure what to do now. He watched as you left, desperate to follow and grab your wrist to spin you around and plant a seething kiss to your luscious lips.

Benny takes a deep breath in and out, settling his head against the back of the booth. “That girl, Frankie, is worth the ifs, ands or buts. You know that, I know that, and I’m willing to bet she would agree.”

Before Frankie can respond, the bartender that is covering for you, Tasha, hurries up to the table with a black notebook in hand. “Hey, did she leave already?”

Santi nods, “Uh, yeah just. Why what’s up?”

Tasha huffs, “She forgot her day planner again, would one of you be able to drop it off? I know she needs it before her next shift.” She asks.

Frankie clears his throat and nods, “Yeah, no problem, Tash I’ll get it to her.” He says, leaning forward and taking the book out of her hands.

She says thank you and swiftly heads back to the bar to greet the hoard of customers who have just stumbled through.

Frankie stares absentmindedly at the worn book, pages from old day planners ripped out of their books and stuffed into this one instead of rewriting all the phone numbers and addresses you have in it. Quietly he passes it back and forth in his hands, a million thoughts running through his mind when it slips and falls down onto the table, some of the pages slipping out and exposing themselves in front of him. The guys look on with confused faces as Frankies face falls while he reads one of the faded and crinkled pages in front of him.

Santi is the first to express his interest, “What’s that?”

Taking a deep gulp, he picks up the piece of paper to examine it closer. Upon being sure that it says what he thinks it says, he slowly turns it around and slides it into the middle of the table for the guys to read. They all lean in and fall silent to see what has their friend so shocked.

Frankie 555-666-7777

baseball hat

bar

cutest guy ever?

Update to self- definitely cutest guy ever

He looks down at the book on the table, and thinks to himself, would it be wrong to go through it. Yes, it definitely would be, but he has to know if there’s anything else you’ve written about him it.

Before the guys can get their “heys” and waits” out, he is opening up the cover and sifts through the pages. His ears start to ring as week after week contain the same notations.

Lunch with Frankie <3

Taking Frankie shopping to get news boots <3

Borrowing Frankies truck <3

No hearts beside Bennys name, Santis, Wills, or even Marcus’. He keeps flipping through the disheveled pages until he finds himself at the end of the book where the note pages are. “Fuuuck me.” Comes out of his mouth quietly as his whole world begins to spin, seeing a daily checklist you wrote out for yourself.

Getting through the day, one step at a time.

drink your water

eat one vegetable, spinach dip doesn’t count

do your morning Pilates, even though you hate it

talk to Frankie <3

He drops the book ceremoniously for the others to peer over and read as well. A grin spreads across Wills face as he pats Frankie's shoulder. “Alright man, no more excuses. What are you gonna do now?”

Staring straight ahead with a sense of determination and wonder Frankie mutters, “I’m gonna go get my girl.”

“Yeah!” Benny sounds as the others clap along and smile with Frankie.

He thinks for a second, “Shit, did she say where she’s going?” he asks in a panic.

Santi’s eyebrows pop up, “Oh, check todays date in the planner.” He says, pointing back to the book, seemingly the solution to all their problems that night.

Frankie points his finger at his friend to acknowledge his good idea before grabbing the weathered book back into his hands and flitting through the pages to today’s date. He scans the week to Thursday and taps the page when he finds the notation. “9pm drinks with Sean, The Green Door.” He smirks to himself at the notice of no heart once again.

“Green Door? That’s over on Park Street, right?” Benny asks.

Will nods, “Yeah like a 5-minute drive, you better get going man.”

Letting a deep breath out Frankie blinks quickly, “Yeah, yeah, you’re right. Okay.” He pushes past Santi in the booth and quickly pats his pockets to make sure he hasn’t forgotten anything. “Okay, I uh, I guess here I go.”

“Go get her Fish!” Santi calls as Frankie begins to step away. Before Frankie suddenly finds himself turning in his spot and standing desperately back at the booth.

“What the fuck am I supposed to say?” He asks with eyes wild.

Benny scoffs, “Just say whatever you’ve been practicing in your head for the last 6 years and I’m sure it will be fine. Now go or I’ll kick your ass!” He swats at him playfully.

With that Frankie gives them one last look of gratitude and jogs out the bar towards his truck, throwing it in gear and peeling out of the parking lot as quickly as the law will let him.

After leaving work, you stop at a gas station to fill your tank. Standing at the pump you lean against the cool metal of your car and sigh. This new chapter of your life was daunting to say the least, no matter how optimistic you tried to feel about it, no matter how many fake smiles you had to put on for your sister, no matter how many cute guys messaged you on the app. You hear the click of the full tank signal and finish up, sliding back into your car and putting on some Taylor Swift to hopefully boost your mood on the drive over.

Stepping out of your car, you look up at the neon sign above the green door. Sean had texted you on the drive over that he was there and grabbed a quiet table at the back. You smooth out your sundress to make sure it’s not sticking to the back of your thighs, thank you humidity and leather seats for that, and make your way over to the entrance.

You hear the sound of a vehicle door slamming shut heavily and then the sound of boots sprinting against the pavement just as you are about to pull at the handle.

“Skip wait!”

Turning you look back and see none other than Frankie jogging up the sidewalk towards you nearly out of breath.

“Frankie? What are you doing here?” you ask, your eyebrows furrowed as you peer over his shoulder to see if he is alone.

Stopping in front of you he tries to catch his breath, “You can’t, - you, - you can’t go on this date.” He stutters out, trying to pull his shoulders square as he calms himself down.

Feeling utterly bewildered by his statement you ask, “Why not?”

He takes a deep breath and stares down directly into your soul. “You can’t because, well, I’m in love with you.”

Your eyes nearly bulge out of your face and your breath hitches, unable to speak.

He continues, noticing your shock. “I know, I know. This is probably not something you expected, because I’ve done my best to keep it locked away while you were with Marcus, and I was with Liv. But you’re not with him anymore, and I was never in love with Liv. I couldn’t have been, not when you were already taking up so much room in my heart. My heart is split right down the middle. It’s Camila, and it’s you. Has been for years now, there’s just no room for anyone else right now.” Gesturing to the green door beside you he continues. “This guy, I’m sure he’s nice or whatever, but I know you. I know you better than I know myself and I just, I love you. I do, and I’m not a hundred percent sure what’s going on in that beautiful head of yours, but I just need you to know, before you meet someone else. Before I miss that damn window of opportunity.”

Taking a big gulp of air he finishes, looking down and embarrassed at his confession, fearing to look you in the eyes and see nothing but pity.

“Frankie.” You whisper.

He looks up to meet your gaze, and his heart thumps harder in his chest when he sees the tears welling up in your eyes and the way you have to bite your bottom lip to stop yourself from breaking into the biggest smile he’s ever seen.

Clearing your throat, you find the courage to speak. “I love you too Frankie.” You say, finally allowing the smile to crack your cheeks.

Frankie's grins goofily and his eyes light up, “Really? Since when?”

Shrugging you admit, “Since I fell out of love with Marcus. So, years ago.”

“Huh, never thought I’d want to thank that son a bitch for being such a useless boyfriend.” He jokes.

You giggle and nod before noticing his face has suddenly changed into something of longing and he inches closer to you.

Bringing his hands to your warm arms, he slides them up and down and looks down earnestly at you. “Can I kiss you baby?” he whispers.

Looking into his deep brown eyes you part your lips and nod, “Yes, Frankie, please. I’ve waited too long for this.”

He slowly leans down, his hands trailing up your arms to cup your face before gently pressing his lips to yours. His lips are plush and soft and move with such care. You bring your hands to his back and pull him slightly closer. He grins before encapsulating your mouth again in a seething kiss, poking his tongue through your teeth to lick into you. A moan vibrates through your throat.

Before you can really get out of hand, a sound of “Whoops” and cheers sounds from the parking lot beside you and you both break to turn to look at the commotion. A large black truck with Will, Benny and Santi hanging out of the windows and sunroof with devilish grins on their faces is what your shocked and embarrassed faces are met with.

“Oh gosh.” You laugh to yourself as you turn your body into Frankie's, he instinctively pulls you in close and wraps an arm around your back to shield you from the eyes of your obnoxious friends.

“Seriously guys? Can’t you let me do anything on my own?” He calls over to them with his free hand raised.

Santi laughs and retorts, “Had to make sure you didn’t bitch out man! Looks like we came at the right time though otherwise we would’ve been picking you two up from the jail for public indecency.”

Will and Benny laugh before Benny calls out, “Alright guys, I think we’ve embarrassed them enough. We’re going back to my place for pizza if you two love birds wanna join.”

You peel your face off Frankie's warm and firm chest and shrug, “I could go for some pizza.”

He smiles and nods, before taking your chin in his fingers and pulling you closer for one more sweet kiss. “Sounds good to me, I’ll meet you there, okay?” he says once he has sufficiently sucked the smile off your face.

“Okay.” You say and break apart from his hold. He swiftly takes your hand and walks you to your car, opening and closing the door behind you with a boyish smile on his face.

You settle into your car and watch him as his tight little butt saunters over to his truck. You bite your lip before pulling out your phone and bringing up your messages.

Sean: Hey just checking if you’re alright.

You: Hey, I’m so sorry, I’m gonna have to cancel. Something came up, and I don’t think it’s gonna work out between us. It was nice chatting with you. Have a good night.

Your phone pings before you put it back in your purse, you’re expecting it to be a disappointing text from Sean, but your eyes light up when you see the name on the notification.

Frankie: *photo of the checklist in your day planner*

Getting through the day, one step at a time.

drink your water

eat one vegetable, spinach dip doesn’t count

do your morning Pilates, even though you hate it

talk to Frankie <3 kiss Frankie <3

Check!

#pedro pascal #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #fanfiction #triple frontier fic #frankie morales #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction

55 notes · View notes

sen-ya · 2 months

Note

Has Luffy run into Dragon after Rocy is born? Has Rocy met her Grandfather or does the deadbeat fathers end with Luffy?

Okay so I’m conflicted here. In canon dragon is Bad Dad a million percent and from those opinions are where my head is at for family au things. if loof did run into dragon, unless rocy was old enough to intro herself and currently with him, I don’t think he’d even think to mention it lmao. In general luffy n law wouldn’t go around broadcasting that they have a kid because of what happened to Ace (and also I think loof would very much just genuinely be like ‘this is Rosie, she’s nakama’) and since it’s not unusual for kids to be on a pirate ship (a la whitebeard and Roger both) if anyone spots her without context they probably wouldn’t think too hard about it. Spend any time with her next to either of her dads tho and it’s like HMMMM they’re looking AWFULLY RELATED.

ANYWAY the conflict comes from how much I freakin love diminuel’s comics (particularly the stinky baby au lol) and they’ve given me a soft spot for crocodad & dragon. That dragon dad warms my heart and I love him. That kinda dragon dad could stay.

#my asks #rocy stuff #me trying to do the math of what I have and have not posted #I made an info sheet that includes all the kids on the sunny in the family au but I think it’s still in the queue #just know she is not the only one so she doesn’t particularly stand out #(on either ship #I do know the one abt the heart kids posted I think lol)

72 notes · View notes

cloveroctobers · 2 months

Text

LOVE FOR A MINUTE — ARMANDO ARETAS [Summer Randoms]

A/N: I did say I was going to take a break with my summer collection soon but uh…THIS IS ACTUALLY SHORT WORK SO IT DOESNT COUNT! Anyways what if I bring you a dash of some mess that I randomly started writing on my lunch break based off one of my current overplayed songs?🏃🏽‍♀️

WARNINGS: language, toxicity, arranged marriages, mentions of gun violence, use of y/n & infidelity!

SYNOPSIS: in which Armando is trying to figure out a lot of things in his life but…it’s always something.

⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁

All it took was some passionfruit soda to figure out that you were cheating on him. Not only cheating but with someone he unfortunately worked alongside of.

Rafe.

And Armando already couldn’t stand his obnoxious ass. It didn’t take him long to figure it out either, the dots being connected unbeknownst to you and it was no secret that Armando was a man of few words but he was also very observant. Rafe had no issue being the loudest in the room, the type of co-worker that loved playing videos on his phone on the highest of volumes that one of his speakers was actually on its way out.

Rafe was all protein shakes, açaí bowls, and early morning workout routines but the moment he showed up with a plastic filled cup with a colorful beverage, burping up a storm from the other side of Kelly, who kept giving him warnings while she cleaned her favorite weapon of choice at her spot of the desk, that was the final blow for Armando.

Armando looked away from his own desk which was off to the side away from the original AMMO members—he had his own personal sticker thanks to the amusement of the team which read: does not play well with others right on the side of the table, he fully turned to face Rafe who laughed it up.

“C’moooooon, That was the best one!” Rafe held his hands up in defense.

Dorn rolled his eyes with a shake of his head, “not only are you annoyingly distracting, you also reek, dude. What the hell are you drinking?”

The ADHD must be kicking in as Rafe now had one hand on his phone, texting away with his thumb, giving Armando enough time to sneak up and catch a glimpse of a bikini photo that looked awfully familiar before Rafe quickly locked his phone. He clears his throat, lifting his head to meet Armando standing over him.

“Can I help you? Ever heard of personal space?”

Armando lifts his chin, his voice naturally low as he states, “Let me see your phone.”

“Uhhhh? No?”

“I’m not asking.”

“Which is exactly why I’m not handing it over.” Rafe smirked.

Armando crossed his arms, “You got something to hide?”

“No.” Rafe scoffed, “I just don’t appreciate you standing over me like you’re fucking Michael myers or something, making demands. We’re not even friends and I know you got your own phone, whether it’s from your deadbeat dad or from some dirty money you probably have stashed away.”

Hands were placed right on Rafe, making Dorn widen his eyes from his spot at the sound of impact while he sat at the end of the desk. Armando had his hands right at Rafe’s shirt, but not without slapping his hands flat against Rafe’s chest, almost knocking the wind out of him as Armando bunched up his shirt while he got right in Rafe’s face. “…Seems like you had a lot to say about me behind my back, so why don’t you say it all to my face this time?”

“Yeah okay…” Rafe starts as he sizes Armando up, “Maybe you should go on your lunch break because you’re doing a lot right now. More than usual.”

Armando doesn’t miss a beat, “Maybe I should ask your girl to join me instead. You know the one? The one you keep stringing along and is also the mother of your baby girl?”

Rafe tightens his square jaw, “what the fuck are you getting at, bro?”

Armando darkens his stare, “I see right through you, bro.”

“Oh yeah?”

“So I’m actually going to ask you a question that I already know the answer to: are you fucking my wife?”

Kelly and Dorn both flick their gazes to each other’s.

Rafe licks his full lips, breaking eye contact for a moment, but he knew he had an audience so he keeps his usual persona up, “…I’ll give her back if you want?”

And that was enough for Armando to swing. He didn’t need to know the details from Rafe but he needed to make the message clear, it was always fuck Rafe around these parts, and he stood on that. However Rafe wasn’t one to back down from a fight and sure he maybe taller than Armando, the well known muscle of the team but none of that means anything to Armando. He’s had plenty of bodies left to rot all over—so in short—none of these men were punks.

“As much as I love a good fight, I’m exhausted dealing with you assholes everyday! So cut the shit.” Kelly yells, one arm pressed up against Rafe’s throat on the other side of the room while Dorn is also holding Armando back.

Dorn nods, “We’re supposed to be a team, here!”

“He sucker punched me in the face!” Rafe points, “and we were forced to work with his bitch ass anyways!”

Armando pants, “The only backstabbing bitch I see here is you, motherfucker.”

“Oh whatever! I don’t owe you anything. You’re in your feelings over a chick that just wasn’t that into you and you knew that so you want to take it out on me.” Rafe yells, “face it, you got played by someone that was forced to be with you because of mommy dearest.”

Armando laughs humorlessly, ducking underneath Dorn’s arms but he jogs right after him, grabbing his wrists and pulling them back while yanking Armando, “I’m surprised it took this long for someone to knock you on your ass.”

“Oh it’s been awhile.” Kelly chimes in over her shoulder.

Rafe rolls his eyes, recalling just what Kelly was talking about, “I’d split your eyebrow open if it wasn’t for Mr. And Mrs. Smith here. And you got me while I was sitting, which is weak by the way.”

Armando shrugs, “what difference would it make? you’d still be garbage.”

“All that anger should go to someone who cares and newsflash, it’s not me.” Rafe mockingly grins at the ex-crime boss.

Dorn interupts, “wait…all this is over y/n? Rafe…the one you were sexting and talking about is y/n?”

Kelly throws her head back with a shake of her head, just wondering why her boyfriend would add more salt to the wound. Dorn sometimes ended up speaking his thoughts out loud before thinking them over, truly.

“Ding! Ding! Ding! Someone gets an B-!”

However that didn’t stop Kelly from shoving her forearm tighter up the dark haired man’s throat, making him wheeze. Rafe raises his hand in surrender as a sign that he was just joking.

“That’s fucked up, dude.” Dorn slowly loosen’s his grip on Armando who side eyes him for holding him back, then fixes his shirt, “on so many levels.”

The four in the room couldn’t erase the tension but two familiar forms definitely could.

“What is going on in here?!” Captain Secada demanded, as she viewed the damage to the tech, Rafe’s busted lip, who tried to hide the evidence by pulling his lips into his mouth, spilled fruit soda dripping off the counter and onto the desk chair, Kelly let’s go of the Asian man, placing her hands on her hips as she looked back and forth between the men in further irritation, Dorn awkwardly scratches the back of his head, and Armando appeared as if he was ready to leap again.

Detective Lowrey steps into Armando’s view, who still appeared as if he was looking right through his biological father, right at Rafe.

“Mando, talk to us.”

He says nothing, making Mike rub his jaw in frustration at the common wall his son liked to put up. “My guess is: Rafe got what was comin’ to him.”

Kelly snorts while Dorn nods his head, quickly looking away once Rafe throws his hands up is confusion on why Dorn didn’t have his back. Rita sends Mike a warning look but he just shrugs as he turns to stand side ways, so that he can get a good look at everyone again.

“Regardless of what happened before we arrived—which I will find out—Do I need to remind you all that this is a place of business, where professionalism and team work is supposed to be the number one priority?”

Rafe huffs, “try telling that to the cartel Tasmanian devil over there. I know what oath I took to be here…some people were just handed shit.”

All eyes snapped to Rafe at that.

He just didn’t know when to quit.

Armando snickered as he scratches at the side of his nose by his beauty mark. Although his heart was drumming in his chest over the truth, he kept his cool—now.

“…That’s fine, next time I’ll just put the gun in your mouth instead.”

“WHOA! WHOA! ALRIGHT!” Mike scolded, although he didn’t blame Armando, he didn’t need him locked up again.

While Rita interjected, “that’s enough you two!”

“I think that’s my cue to go home for the day.” Armando stated, not looking for permission from either of the higher ranks, as he turns to start grabbing a few of his items: phone, keys, and his backpack.

“Tell y/n I said wassup.” Rafe raises his chin while Armando sends him one last look with a mocking laugh, motioning a gun at him on his way out.

Mike runs his hands over his goatee as Rita sends him a glance, making him quickly dip his head to follow his son out of the trailer part of the building.

“Mando, hey!” Mike calls out to the shorter man who’s making his way over to his car.

Armando keeps moving, unlocking the door to the car, throwing his things into the passenger side. When Mike slams his hands down on the hood of the car, Armando turns from the ajar door to meet Mike’s eyes.

“Don’t do nothing stupid. Not when you’ve come this far.” Mike tells Armando, whose eyes are as dark as black coffee.

Armando blinks, “Sure, I’m a murderer turned agent but I’m not down for being disrespected.”

“Okay,” Mike nods, “I feel that. And I’m proud that you lasted this long not popping that asswipe in the mouth.”

Armando snorts, already being aware that Rafe had his share of words with Mike as well.

“Tell me now, are you plotting something against y/n too?”

“No.” Armando shrugged his shoulders, “I been knew—

“But you loved her so that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt, right? You can be real with me.” Mike suggests.

Armando deeply inhales, “…I don’t think I know much about love after all, Mike.”

And with that, he climbs into the car, starting the engine, leaving the man on the outside to step out of the way and watch Armando go.

The stories you tried to spin when you got Armando to finally talk to you, made him blow up on you. It’s not the first fight you’ve ever had, the relationships always been toxic. Your mothers were in jail together, you and Armando were practically raised in that facility together in Mexico City until a certain age and then you were both uprooted away from your moms and away from each other.

Somehow you found your way back together, whereas Armando went into training underneath Benito Aretas, you didn’t exactly grow up in a loving home either. Finding yourselves into crooked crime and wealth, you both did well for yourselves and it was written in stone that you two would be in an arranged marriage. Your mother ended up dying in prison but that was her dying wish, believing that Isabel would do right by you.

Depends on how you define that.

You became Mrs. Aretas at twenty-one but once you came to the states and got a taste of a different life, you changed. Armando was always on a mission and ultimately you were on a different one.

You two were no longer a team so it seemed, carrying on tasks on your own where at times your home in Florida started to feel colder at times.

“I’m out here forced to pay off my debts with people I don’t even care for like that, knowing that my wife is doing me dirty. How do you expect me to continue living your famous lie of: everything’s fine when it’s far from it?” Armando asks after you slapped the laptop that he was working on, right off the dining table.

You’re folding your arms, “nothing about our relationship has been a lie, i love you and wouldn’t have married you if I didn’t regardless of what our mother’s wanted. I just—

“ Last I heard you don’t cheat on people you claim to love—guess that’s something you have in common with my mother.” Armando leans back in the chair, fingers folded together.

Raising your brows you deeply exhale, “Look…I know you’re pissed off with me and you have every right to be but i dont appreciate you comparing me to Isabel. I’m not anything like her.”

Armando shrugs his shoulders, “manipulative, selfish, calculated, narcissistic—

“Wow! Say it with your whole chest then.”

“You fucked up, so I’m done.”

“W-what?”

“All those years gone just like that.” Armando feels his jaw about to shake, “and with Rafe of all people? He’s somebody’s whole father and you know he treat’s Kennicott like shit so what was it? The crimson chin?”

You clench your eyes shut, “this is no excuse but the first time we were all drunk and at the club, Mike was there—

“Don’t bring him into this,” Armando snaps, knowing where you were going, “we been had that conversation months ago. You know what? I don’t even need the whole rundown because I’ve already got the gist. I just want to know when I should expect you out by.”

He’s back on his phone, app open to make a schedule and reminders already.

“I’m not going anywhere.” You argue.

Armando keeps a straight face although his brow wants to raise in annoyance, “cool then I’ll leave and have some people stop by to get my things within a week.”

“Armando.” You start, waterworks rising as you begin to follow him, “we can work this out.”

Armando stops in his tracks, almost making you bump into the back of him. He says over his shoulder, “there’s nothing else to work out, this hasn’t been working and I’ve constantly been turning the other cheek since we got here together. Since I got locked up but I guess you forgot about what a commitment entails. Maybe we’re better off without each other for good this time.”

Angrily wiping your tears you grit at his retreating form down the hallway that led to one of the five bedrooms, laundry room, and the side door that led to the car port outside, “don’t tell me you’re just gonna go off and fuck off with Kennicott and her kid? how cliche!”

He puts his shades on in the driver’s side as you rest your hands on the rolled down window, “take care of yourself the best way you know how, y/n and good luck with Rafe. Who knows how much longer he’s got left?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know exactly, what that means.” Armando’s stare is heated even behind his expensive shades, “please, watch your feet. I’m outta here.”

You’re left a gapping fish, jumping back as Armando reversed out of the car port and out of your life for good, if he can help it.

“Hi sweetie,” you smile down at the five year old by the swings as you briefly peek back at Kennicott standing in front of Armando who’s sitting on the bench, shielding the sun from his eyes but his faint dimples are showing as he peers up at her like she created the damn sun.

You start to wonder when’s the last time he’s looked at you like that.

It’s been some time since he emptied his things out the shared home you had together. You still tried to keep up conversations and hookups with Rafe, mostly to keep tabs on Armando but Rafe caught on quick to your game. That’s when the ghosting started and you running up on every other girl Rafe tried to bring back to his place.

Deeming you as crazy but it wouldn’t be the first time.

This wasn’t healthy, you knew this but you couldn’t help yourself. Why did Rafe think he could just get rid of you? And why did Armando think he can just move on and do exactly what you knew he would do.

That’s where you got it wrong.

He wasn’t dating Kennicott but she did manage to get some smiles out of him. Of course he already knew her since she came around to headquarters doing sweet things for Rafe and the team that he never appreciated. It was like Kennicott was a bother to Rafe yet she was also the mother of his child? She deserved better much like Armando did and if you wanted to look at it in a petty way…it was nice to get underneath Rafe’s skin in the process by being her friend.

You still didn’t sign the divorce papers but when you received them, you thought about doing a drive by to be honest. That was more Armando’s style but it wouldn’t be so different than what you normally got into. Before getting to that you started off small, by keeping tabs on those Armando affiliated with and placing a tracker on Kennicott’s emerald green 4Runner. Which led to the park Kennicott always brought her daughter to on Saturdays.

Wednesdays were swimming lessons, Thursdays were Kennicott’s late nights at the office so baby girl was usually with Rafe’s mom. You had their schedule down pat and it was the perfect time to execute.

“Y/n?!” Armando screamed your name as you handed the five year old off to your accomplice in the backseat.

It was like slow motion as you spotted a worried Kennicott gripping Armando’s forearm, once your eyes switched from their comfortability and back up to their faces, you sent a wicked smile before tossing the door back and hoping into the tinted car.

Armando knows he could have taken the shot but you were still his wife, there were plenty of witnesses and children, and he always had the risk of being thrown back in jail hanging over his head. He knew your game, actually fell in love with it, so all he could do for right now was embrace a distraught Kennicott underneath his arm and call it in.

If that’s how you wanted to play, he was guaranteed to win.

⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁

Continue reading my summer anthology writings & prompts here.

96 notes · View notes

mcytblrconfessions · 11 months

Note

My sisters my dad and I got DNA tests done for funsies, and also bc my sisters and I know nothing about our mom’s bio dad bc he left when she and her brother were born.

Anyways, turns out I have a shit ton of cousins on my mom’s side that live in Nottingham. There is a non-zero chance I could be related to Tommyinnit because of my mom’s deadbeat dad.

This is even funnier bc I’m Alaskan so it was a long journey for my bio grandfather all the way from England

you are not related to tommyinnit because you're english

#confession #worst of mcytblrconfessions #parasocial #cc: tommyinnit #mod response #insane people confessions

193 notes · View notes

diremoone · 2 years

Text

Occupational Hazard | Pedro Pascal.

Note(s): Comedian! Reader, Large but Legal Age Gap (MC is 30+), Female Reader, mentions of assault and injury, Pedro and MC are engaged 💍 (also, more often than not, when you ask for no salt on the fries at a fast food place (where I’m at anyway), the fries are always hot and fresh), wrote this in a span of, like, two days so it’s not proofread! enjoy!

Summary: Being a successful comedian, you’ve made all sorts of jokes, especially ones at your own expense. But not everyone has the same sense of humor, and Pedro finds out how dangerous some of these people who find your jokes “offensive” are.

****

Pedro hadn’t expected your text message so late. He had just gotten home an hour prior, tired and exhausted. But after his shower, he heard the ding of the two minute reminder on his phone. He plucks his phone from the charge and reads: Would you be available right now? To pick me up? Had an incident tonight.

He’s dressed and out the door not even five minutes later, wet hair slicked back away from his face so his glasses wouldn’t get wet.

It unfortunately takes him thirty minutes to get to the comedy club where you were scheduled to have an event, much much longer than he wanted. But when he arrives, he’s ushered in by the guards that already know him and the fact you and him are in a relationship.

A female guard in plain clothes is waiting for him the moment he steps through the doors, more than likely the one who informed the ones outside you had sent for him and to let Pedro through.

A couple of twists and turns down some hallways and he’s at the stage where you do your work.

He grimaces to himself, and his heart fills with worry and concern.

Not even five seconds upon entering the room did your eyes lock onto his form, his presence something you’ve always noticed immediately regardless of his quiet he was — always seemed to know when he walked into a room, your soul practically locked onto his own.

When the doctor pulls away, finishing her job, Pedro sees the damage done: a full black eye that would be shut for several days and a split lip, with a nose almost broken with a dot of dried blood at your nostril. You’d probably have to go to the hospital in a day or two to have that checked out to make sure it healed properly.

Everyone pulls away from you like opposing magnets, leaving the room to give you both some privacy. He’s glad. He also doesn’t want them to see him pissed off, because he was almost fucking livid.

He pulls a chair from where the crowd sits and places it in front of you. You give him a smile through the pain, and he wants to kiss you so bad but your lip is split damn it—

“Hey,” you whisper.

“Hey yourself,” he whispers back, trying to smile back and not be angry. One hand is laced between the fingers of your left hand that has that pretty diamond engagement ring on it, his other cupping your cheek on the side that doesn’t have a black eye and rubbing your skin fondly. “What happened, baby?”

You shrugged. “Not everyone has the same kind of humor.”

Pedro raises his brows. “Meaning?”

You inhale heavily, releasing an equally heavy exhale.

“A guy got pissed at a deadbeat dad joke I made,” you said. “I guess he fit the criteria, knew it, and got pissed. Felt called out, I guess.”

His eyes go wide with shock. “You serious?”

“Yeah,” you admit. You run your thumb over the skin of his hand and continue, “I think I’m gonna cancel my next three shows.”

Pedro’s against it the second the words leave your mouth. “You can’t be serious?”

“I am.” You give him a face, one he recognizes easily: you’re not going to budge, and there’s no point in him arguing. “I think he universe might be telling me to take a break.”

He nods his head in agreement. “Yeah, you’ve been going as hard as me lately. I’m starting to think this line of work is more dangerous than what I do.”

You slap his shoulder in a light and childish manner. “Oh, shut up. You do a lot more taxing work than I do.”

“But you’ve done a lot more shows than you have in the last, what, year?” Pedro argues this time. “That’s a fucking lot. Not even I’m sure I could handle that much moving around the states so fast.”

You jab back, “That’s why I pack lightly, baby.”

He laughs. “Har har. Got me there…” Pedro leans forward and presses a kiss to the side of your temple. “I love you, mi princesa.”

You giggle, warmth flooding to your cheeks at Pedro’s affection and soft declaration of love for you.

You almost get to say it back, but he grins cheekily because he already knows and proceeds to ask, “Want some McDonald’s?”

You stand to your feet immediately. “I want two twenty piece McNuggers, two fries without salt, and a big-ass Sprite.”

“You eat too damn much.” Pedro snorts, smiling ear-to-ear. “And you and your no-salt on the fries, I swear.”

“It’s better that way!” you reply, mock offended. “And you get them fresh, too! That salt isn’t any good for high blood pressure anyway.”

“Whatever you say,” he remarks. “So, McDonald’s in the car, go home, shower, and cuddle with a movie on until we fall asleep?”

You love him — absolutely and positively love him. This man knows how to make your bad days better like the back of his hand.

“Sounds perfect.”

You’re so glad to have him. You’re the luckiest woman in the world, no doubt, to call such a perfect man yours.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x you #real person fiction #pedro pascal rpf #pedro pascal fluff #pedro rpf x reader #pedro pascal imagine #joel miller tlou #female reader

484 notes · View notes

plants-are-fun · 8 months

Text

sunshine

tw!!!! This is gonna be a multiple parter and will have MANY serious topics. Do not read if you are sensitive to that stuff.

this story contains: abusive dad, mean Chris

Chrisxfemreader

readers pov

————————

I miss how I used to be. I assume I’ll be saying that forever. my childhood was by no means easy, but it was perfect to me.

I had a deadbeat dad and no mom, but I also had the triplets and their parents. I basically lived with them.

I still remember how when I came home from school to their house, marylou would open her hands out as I ran to her yelling “sunshine!” As loud as she could. I don’t think I would have made it this far without her.

me and Nick were the closest. I was the first person he came out to, and although I didn’t know much about what being “gay” meant, I was still supportive. He knew everything about my home life, and swore that he would never tell anyone about it, not even his brothers.

Matt was the one that recognized all of my conditions. He recognized that I was dyslexic when I couldn’t read very well. He would always read for me so I could fall asleep. He also recognized my depression and anxiety, and even my ADHD. Although they couldn’t get me to a doctor or therapist legally, knowing made it much easier to cope. He was honestly like a big brother to me, being two years older.

Chris was my everything. I had the biggest crush on him. I could even say my first love. It was obvious that he didn’t feel the same, but I’m grateful he kept me around anyway. He would never fully speak to me as we got older, but he would always tell his friends to back off whenever they picked on me for my hair, my clothes, or even my smell.

that all changed in middle school.

I was in 6th grade, he was in 8th, and he hadn’t spoken to me all year. I would always walk with him in the halls because I was more comfortable that way. Neither Nick or Matt had a schedule anywhere close to mine, so I never even saw them.

It was in the middle of January when I was trying to find Chris that I heard him and his buddies laughing from around the corner.

“what about y/n?” One of the goons said. I slowed my walking, not meaning to eavesdrop, but just so I would turn the corner and be spotted as quickly.

“what about her?” Chris said with a scoff.

“she’s always following you around, like a little lost puppy. It’s so obvious she likes you” some idiot said

I stopped and felt my ears burn with embarrassment.

“yeah I guess she does..” Chris said. I was so hurt. He used to always defend me against these guys and now he’s agreeing?

“but you let her! Do you like her too? I mean, you guys grew up together” one of his friends, Jared said.

“do I like her?” Chris said. I could tell he was embarrassed and maybe a bit flustered. As I thought he was going to defend me, defend us he said “bro, how could I like her? She lives in a trailer park. I could never like someone like that. Nick told me that it always smells like cigarettes and is always filthy. She needs to leave me be. The smell might rub off on me”.

I know I should’ve let it slide off. Middle schoolers are dumb, and they just want attention. But all I could do was stand there and begin to cry.

I bolted away from the group and into the restroom. I stayed there until the end of the day.

all I could think of was how Nick could have done that to me. I didn’t want him to come over to where I lived, but he insisted. He said that ‘it was only fair because I had basically lived at his house’. When I let him in, he seemed supportive, but I guess he was just grossed out. But he was the only person to even know about me living in a trailer park, and he promised he would never tell anyone.

I wanted to hurt him, maybe even out him. But in the end I just shut my mouth and shut down.

when the final bell rang, I ran out with red puffy eyes, and climbed into the back of marylous minivan.

“hey sunshine, how was school? are you ok?” She said. After squeaking out a quick “fine” she just sighed and tapped the steering wheel, waiting for her real sons to come out. Matt came out and I saw him look at me, then his mom before climbing in the front seat. Marylou just gave me a worried look then shrugged to Matt.

Chris came out looking like he was the coolest motherfucker in the world, slouching and nodding to his mom. He got in without even sparing me a glance.

when Nick came bouncing out, he waved to his mom and Chris before getting in the middle row with Chris. He turned to me with the biggest grin on his face and said “hey girl!! How was your day? I have SO much to tell you when we get back.” I just looked at him.

“hey are you ok?” He said, reaching out to rub my shoulder.

I jerked away from him. “Don’t touch me.” I spat out.

“what’s wrong” he said withdrawing his hand.

“don’t even talk to me.” I glared at him. He just looked confused. The whole car was silent. Marylou was looking at me in the rearview mirror and Matt was fully turned around with his jaw on the floor.

“Ms. Sturniolo, can you please just take me home?” I said startling even myself. I had never called Marylou that. Even when I was a kid before learning her name I just called her ‘nicks mom’.

“sure sweetie, are you sure? You can take a nap in your room if you want-“ “yes I’m sure. Thank you.” I don’t want to be anywhere near Chris or Nick. It wasn’t even my room. It was a guest bedroom with a lot of my clothes because I stayed over so often.

“ok sunshine” she muttered.

the whole car ride was silent. It took everything in me not to burst into tears and tell her everything, to ask her to not take me home. The last thing I wanted was to go back home. But it was obvious that I was bothering the poor family, so I would give them what they wanted.

once we pulled up, I gathered my things and jumped out of the car. After saying thank you and ignoring nicks goodbye, I started walking, before remembering I had forgotten my water bottle on the cup holder. I ran back, to where Chris was waiting with the window rolled down, holding it out to me. I took it and turned away before hearing him mutter “not even going to say thanks?”

I turned to him and said “thank you, Chris. I hope being here didn’t make you too uncomfortable” quiet enough for only us to hear it. “You should take a shower when you get home. I wouldn’t want my smell to rub off on you”. He looked like he had seen a ghost, but I didn’t care. I just walked off and slammed the door on my way into the house. I heard the car start to drive away when I felt a searing pain hit my jaw. my dad was awake.

“What the fuck do y-you think you’re doing here? I told you I don’t want your stupid face in here.” He slurred “I’ll stay in my room” I whispered. I knew he didn’t like me, but I never thought he would hit me in the face like that.

“ok, I don’t fucking care. Stay out of my sight. And if you ever slam my door again I’ll kill you.” I was used to empty threats, but after just hitting me, I didn’t know if it was empty anymore.

“yes sir” I said as I walked to my room.

that night I cried harder than I had ever before. I cried so hard that I threw up. After going to the Bathroom to brush my teeth, I saw the bruise that was starting to form.

I got out my flip phone and texted Nick. I couldn’t have him asking questions.

to: Nicky :))))))

hey, I’m taking the bus tmr, I don’t need a ride there or back.

from: Nicky :))))))

ok, r u sure? It’s rlly no problem. and r u ok??? Did I do something????

to: Nick Sturniolo

yes I’m sure. Night

that would be the last time I spoke to him.

Chris POV

—————

I still stay awake thinking of that day.

I don’t know why I said it. I didn’t mean it, she had to have known.

I wanted that stupid group of boys to like me so bad, and stupid fucking Jared had some sort of obsession with her, so I didn’t want to make him hate me by being her friend.

I didn’t like talking about her behind my back, but what would the harm be if she wasn’t around? It’s not like any of these guys would ever talk to her.

I remember being so worried about her. She would always come to school looking like she never slept, never showered, and never ate. It kept up until we took her in.

one day there was a stench on her, so I confided in Nick. He didn’t want to tell me, but I have a way of wiggling information out of people. He felt so guilty after, and made me swear I would never speak of what he told me, even to Matt. But of course I had to run my mouth to fucking jared.

we knew she lived in a park, but that was it. She wouldn’t even tell my mom.

during that car ride, I knew something was wrong. I would have been an idiot not to see it.

when she whispered those words to me, I knew I had fucked up.

Nick asked me what she said, but I was so worried that I could lose Nick too, that I just told him she said thanks.

Nick was distraught after he got the text saying that she would take the bus.

after it became clear she wouldn’t be coming back, Nick gave me her clothes to give to her. She just took them and walked away.

I began to hate her for the affect her absence had on Nick. Why would she do that to him without even explaining? Was she protecting me?

but she shouldn’t do that to Nick.

I hate her.

————————

not sure how I feel about this but I hope you like it!!!

please leave reviews and comments below!!

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo angst #angst #sturniolo

98 notes · View notes

therealcocoshady · 6 months

Text

Recovery - Chapter 31

Eminem x Reader Fanfiction

Summary : Dinner with Reader's Dad ends up being a nightmare.

Tags : Angst - Comfort

MARSHALL’S POV

Y/N was pacing the room and her nerves were starting to rub off on him. Out of all the people he had ever met, she was the one whose stress was most communicative. With the energy she was giving, she could probably stress out the toughest, best-trained army negotiators. When she had told him that her father wanted to meet him, Marshall hadn’t freaked out. Being a Dad to someone his girlfriend’s age, he understood the idea of parents wanting to meet their children’s significant others. Sure, he hadn’t met a girlfriend’s family in a while, but he wasn’t too scared. The perspective of Y/N’s father being about his age made things less impressive. The way he saw it, it would just be a casual dinner and, worst comes to worst, he would have to state his intentions towards the man’s daughter : make her happy and support her. Not to toot his own horn, but he could think of worse boyfriends than him for anyone’s daughter. After all, he wasn’t a deadbeat, he had a job, money and he loved Y/N unconditionally. So he wasn’t too stressed out. At least, at the beginning. Because as they got closer to the fateful dinner, Y/N was starting to lose her grip.

Stop stressing out, babe, he chuckled. It’s going to be fine. Plus, I know how to make a good impression.

Sorry, she groaned. It’s just… You meeting my Dad, you know ? I can think of a thousand things that could go wrong.

It’ll be fine, he said softly. Plus, he knows what to expect, right ? The fact that you told him you’re dating me and that he is willing to meet me has to be a good sign.

Oh, he has no idea who you are, she said.

Is that a family thing ? He chuckled. Like a collective decision not to know too much about me before meeting me ?

No, I mean… I don’t know if he knows who Eminem is, actually, she said. He hates rap and hip-hop anyway. But as far as he knows, your name is Marshall and you’re american and… that’s about it.

He opened his eyes wide. He wasn’t expecting that. Not that he was counting on his fame to woo Y/N’s dad, but he thought that the man having an idea of who he was meeting would play in his favor. At least, there wouldn’t be an element of surprise. Better yet, he could have been surprised in a good way, upon discovering that his daughter was not dating an asshole, as it was a common misconception about him.

So he doesn’t know anything about my job, my age… ? Marshall asked.

Hum… No, she said sheepishly. I wasn’t too sure how to break it to him on the phone…

Ok, he sighed. I mean, it can still go well. Is there anything I should know about him ? Other than the fact he might despise what I do for a living ?

You could still word it differently ? She suggested. And say that you’re an entrepreneur in the music industry ? I mean, you own a studio…

Sure, he nervously chuckled. What else ? How do I make a good impression ?

Well he’s already pissed off that he has to come to us for dinner, she pointed out. So we might want to have wine ready.

It’s for his own good, he said. If we’re followed by the press, I’m not sure he would enjoy having paparazzi waiting outside of his place...

I know, she said. But I think we might want to make it up to him with food and wine. And other than that… Hum… Don’t be too American, I guess ?

What the fuck does that mean ? He asked.

Look, my dad can be a bit of a snob, sometimes. Judgy, too… He thinks all American people are over the top and flashy. So maybe no chains or massive jewelry and something with a button wouldn’t hurt, I guess.

Babe, oddly enough, I didn’t bring a shirt or a suit on tour with me, he pointed out with a smile. The best I can do is a sweater.

Sweater it is, then, she said. And you should wear a belt. Like, properly. No ass on display.

Alright, he chuckled. Though you usually like my ass on display…

And no jokes, too, she said sternly.

I’m not stupid, Y/N, he said. I’m not going to joke about our sex life in front of your father.

No, I mean… He doesn’t really do jokes. At all.

Now, he was definitely more stressed out and already bored. He already expected the culture shock, knowing that Europeans are a bit different from Americans on a few aspects. Thankfully, Y/N’s dad spoke English so that was one less thing to worry about. But regardless, it was shaping out to be incredibly boring. As far as he knew, her Dad was an accountant whose hobbies were literature and opera. Not that there was anything wrong with that, but he couldn’t really relate to him.

The plan was to have dinner delivered in their penthouse suite, since going to her dad’s place or the restaurant would be too complicated. The dining room area was welcoming and, apparently, formal enough. Too much for his own liking, but apparently, the man enjoyed things with structure. Her father was about to arrive when Y/N was getting ready. She was dressed in a little navy dress that looked quite conservative. She was pretty, as usual, but he was used to her sporting a more casual look. Not to mention that she spent most of the time in his clothes anyway.

I’m sorry, you didn’t mention that your Dad was a priest, he giggled. Why the fuck are you dressed like you’re going to church ?

He’s a little formal, she said in an annoyed tone.

He’s your father, he said. Why would he care what you wear to dinner ? It’s just us in the suite, you could be wearing PJs…

I told you, Marsh, he’s a little strict, she shrugged. You know, I only started dressing casually when I came to America. Before that, I would never be caught dead wearing leggings and a hoodie.

Fine, he chuckled. Are we ready now ?

I guess, she groaned. I just want to get it over with.

He pulled her in for a kiss. He wanted to get over it too, and focus on the bigger picture : in two days, he would fly back to Detroit while she packed her things before joining him and,

after that, the fun would begin. He would actually have her by his side and get to experience life with the woman he loved. The idea was making his heart swell with joy, as well as the fact that his daughters were really happy for them. When he asked for their blessings, a couple of nights ago, they were nothing but supportive. He didn’t even need to plead his case : they could see what a breath of fresh air Y/N was for him. He had never thought about bringing a woman into his family, but he was so happy he had found her. Now that they were going to live together, he wanted nothing more than to give her the life she deserved and provide her with the safe space she needed. He knew the past few months had been trying for her, and he would be there for her as she let her mind and body recover. Caring for her had become second nature to him anyway, ever since they had met.

Y/N received a call from reception, indicating that her father was here. He could see her anxiety levels rise once again, as he tried to give her a reassuring smile. He kissed her forehead before she went downstairs to meet her Dad, before bringing him into the room. While she was gone, he inspected himself in the mirror. He was dressed in jeans and a dark blue sweater. He had even trimmed his beard for the occasion. He looked rather random. That was the kind of look he usually donned for appointments like PTA or meetings, where he needed to be taken seriously and look like an adult, instead of the man-child he definitely was, dressed in jeans and hoodies, or tee-shirts with rap album covers on them. A couple of minutes later, his girlfriend came back to the room with a man that looked nothing like her. He assumed she took after her mother, because he couldn’t have guessed she was related to this man. He was rather tall and carried himself like a military man, with a stiff posture. He looked rather serious. No, gloomy was a more appropriate word. He wasn’t really one to judge solely on vibe, but he immediately felt ill at ease. One look at the man and he could tell the father was nothing like Y/N. In spite of her usual shyness, she exuded warmth and softness. A far cry from her dad, who seemed cold and distant. As soon as they got through the door, he went to them and shook his hand.

Papa, this is Marshall, my boyfriend, Y/N said. Marsh, this is Jean, my father.

Bonjour, Marshall said as they shook hands and made eye contact, deciding to try one of the three words of french his girl had taught him.

Bonsoir, the man replied in a corrective tone.

Marshall looked at Y/N, a bit lost.

It means “good evening”, she explained. Bonjour is for the day.

Oh, right, he said. Anyway, it’s nice to meet you, sir.

Likewise, the man said in an emotionless voice.

They went to sit in the living room area where Y/N had prepared a glass of wine for her father and soda for the both of them.

I got your favorite wine, she said with a shy smile.

Are the two of you not drinking with me ? He asked.

I don’t drink, Marshall simply said.

I don’t feel like drinking, Y/N said softly.

He could tell she was uncomfortable, and he distinctly remembered her telling him that her father knew nothing about her addiction, recovery, nor her sobriety. She had always been a bit shy, but seeing how uncomfortable she was in the presence of the man who had raised her gave him red flags. Something felt off. Or at least, as a father, he would hate for his girls to be this tense around him. But then again, he understood that not everyone’s relationship with their parents was fun.

Americans usually fail to enjoy wine properly, Jean pointed out.

We actually have decent wine, you know ? Marshall said with a smile.

Only because they come from french vines, the man replied. Are you sure you don’t want to try this, Marshall ?

I’m good, he said. I don’t drink, for health reasons.

He wasn’t ashamed of being sober. Usually, it was quite the contrary : he was proud of his journey and he had come far. But when meeting your girlfriend’s dad, saying you’re recovering from addiction makes you seem like a raging drug-addict and alcoholic, which isn’t exactly the best look. Jean nodded and understanding and they sipped on their beverages as they made small talk.

So… Y/N told me downstairs that you are an entrepreneur ? The father asked, giving him his time to shine.

I am, Marshall nodded. In the music industry, actually.

I don’t know if she told you, but I am a big fan of music myself, Jean continued. What kind of business do you do ?

Well I own a recording studio and a label, Marshall explained. There are a couple of other things, but I am mainly into recording, producing and songwriting.

Have you been doing it for a long time ?

About twenty-five years.

He could see Jean’s stare intensify.

How old are you exactly, Marshall ? He asked in an inquisitive tone.

Fifty-two, Marshall replied as calmly as he could.

He knew he looked a few years younger - thanks to genetics, healthy eating, exercising as well as a good skincare regimen prescribed by his daughters - but surely, his age couldn’t be such a surprise, right ? Or at least, that’s what he thought when he saw his girlfriend’s father’s face decompose. Jean glared at his daughter who immediately looked down.

So, you’re into opera, right ? Marshall asked in an attempt to lighten the mood.

Indeed, Jean said. What kind of music do you produce ?

Mostly hip-hop, Marshall said. Though I’ve worked with artists of various horizons.

Anything I might have heard ?

Well, you might have heard some Eminem stuff, he said with a soft smile.

Y/N threw him a panicked glance. The man in front of him might hate hip-hop but he still had to be honest. Hiding from his father-in-law that he was a big recording artist was probably not the best way to go and get his approval. Life had taught him that honesty was, by far, the best way to go.

I have heard of him, Jean simply said. I cannot say I care for this type of music.

I get it, that’s not for everyone, Marshall said with a shrug.

It is that I don’t think it qualifies as proper music, the man continued. Does it even pay the rent ?

Marshall tried his best not to roll his eyes. He had heard countless times that hip-hop is not actual music and he was sick of people failing to understand the artistry behind it. However, now was not the time to argue. The question about paying the rent was also incredibly stupid, in his opinion. The man was sitting in the penthouse suite of one of the most expensive hotels in Paris. Of course, it paid the rent. He didn’t want to be an asshole who flaunted his wealth, but the judgy look on the other man’s face was almost prompting him to list his assets.

Well, it certainly bought the house, Marshall said with a forced smile.

Alright. What brings you to Europe ? Jean asked. Business ?

Yeah, Marshall said. I just finished the second part of my tour, actually.

Your tour ? You are an artist too ?

Dad, Y/N interjected. What Marshall means to say is that… He’s Eminem.

Marshall smiled. At least that was clearer now. It was the first time he had ever had to disclose who he was in such a way. Jean turned to his daughter with a confused expression and said something in french. Y/N’s eyebrows were furrowed as she replied something, visibly uncomfortable. It was incredibly frustrating for him not to understand a word of what they were saying. From what he gathered, it wasn’t a very pleasant exchange.

We should order our food, Y/N said after a while.

Her expression was one of confusion and sadness. She seemed visibly hurt by something her father had said. He hated seeing her this way, but he also didn’t want to interfere. They ordered food from the room service and kept on making awkward small talk. As the meal arrived, they settled in the dining room.

Forgive me for being so blunt, but I am rather disappointed, Jean said.

What disappoints you ? Marshall asked.

When I agreed to let Y/N study in America, I did not expect for her to end like this, he explained matter-of-factly. No one wants their daughter unemployed and making poor life decisions.

He saw Y/N duck her head down. The remark was not aimed at him, at least not directly, but it stung. It was no wonder why she didn’t mention her father too often : from the looks of it, he was an ass.

Ever since her mother’s death, I have raised her on my own and tried to instill good values in her. I certainly did not expect her to repay me by failing miserably to start a career and deciding to be some sort of potiche for a rapper.

A what ? Marshall asked with his eyebrows furrowed.

Potiche, Y/N repeated with a sad look on her face. It means “vase”. It refers to, hum… a woman who is basically a trophy wife.

Marshall’s eyes darkened. He wasn’t necessarily expecting the man’s blessing - not that he cared too much, Y/N was an adult - but having a man his age insult his own daughter was wrong on so many levels. He tried really hard not to spit in the man’s face but it was getting harder by the minute. If he hadn’t gone to anger management classes and therapy, he probably would have thrown him out already.

I mean, she just became a doctor, Marshall said tentatively. You must be kind of proud.

The degree doesn’t mean much if she doesn’t find a job, Jean pointed out sternly. I guess she’s just too lazy.

Not to contradict you, but I’ve actually seen her work on her dissertation, he said. Your daughter is really impressive. I think she deserves credit for her work.

It’s not too hard when everything’s been handed to you, the father pointed out. Do you have children, Marshall ?

I have, Marshall replied. Three girls, actually. They’re 31, 28 and 21.

So I guess you understand the disappointment I’m facing, then. No one wishes for their daughter to fail her professional life and be in a relationship with someone who could be their father.

Y/N was staring at her plate, visibly on the verge of tears. He grabbed her hand under the table and interlaced their fingers. He stared at Jean, who had a cold expression on his face. Not approving of their relationship was one thing, but what kind of father could belittle his child in such a way ?

Look, Marshall said, I understand where you’re coming from. If one of my daughters told me they were in a relationship with someone my age, I wouldn’t be too happy. In fact, I’d probably want to punch the man in the face. But I want you to know that I have good intentions when it comes to Y/N. I love her, I care about her and I want to make her happy.

And, for my career, I’m going to send out applications as soon as I move in with Marshall, Y/N said. We have it figured out.

You are not moving in with him, Jean said.

Both him and Y/N turned their heads and stared at Jean. The way he said it sounded final. As if he were talking to a little girl. However, she was a grown woman, an adult and she didn’t need to ask for permission. In fact, the whole meeting was more of a courtesy rather than an actual obligation. Marshall would gladly remind him, but it was not his place and he knew it. His girlfriend said something to her father, in french. Her tone was soft, at first, as it was most of the time when she talked to people, but as the conversation kept on going, it got more animated. Jean was talking loudly and he could see his girl having trouble being assertive. However, she said something that prompted her father to slap her, before screaming something. Before he could even think about what he was doing, Marshall got up and threw his fist in the other man’s face. It was bad enough that he was making Y/N feel bad, but he would not get away with hitting her.

YOU PIECE OF SHIT ! Marshall screamed as he grabbed him by the collar, forcing him to get up and shoved him against the nearest wall. DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE TOUCH HER!

The man was taller than him but he was in such a fit of rage that, unless his opponent was Mike Tyson, he could probably take out anyone. He kept on screaming, out of his mind, as the other man yelled as well, trying to get out of his hold. Lucky for him, Jean wasn’t much of a fighter. He was firmly holding him by the collar, slapping him just like he had slapped Y/N. He kept on screaming and slapping, telling him what a piece of shit he was, and how undeserving of being a father he was.

You’re fucking lucky your daughter’s in the room, Marshall finally spat. I wouldn’t beat up someone in front of their child, but I swear to God, if I see your motherfucking face one more time, I will fuck you up !

When he finally let go of Jean, the man addressed his daughter, who was still sitting at the table, in a state of shock. He yelled something in French and was about to approach her when Marshall intervened between the two of them. The man yelled something he couldn’t quite understand, still in French, before storming out of the room. Marshall closed his eyes for a second, to regain some composure. His heart was pounding in his chest. He had not been in a state of rage in a long time and the sensations felt foreign. He could feel his cheeks burning. He took a few deep breaths to try and soothe himself. If he didn’t, he might as well chase him down the corridor and strangle him. Seeing him slap Y/N had brought back memories of being abused as a child. His mother had never hit him too much, but the same couldn’t be said of some of her boyfriends. He had always sworn that if he witnessed it, he would intervene and make sure the person regretted their action. Didn’t matter who or when.

When he opened his eyes, they landed on Y/N, who was silently sobbing, face in her hands. For a quick second, he had almost forgotten about her. He immediately went to her, to make sure she was alright. He kneeled by her side and tried to grab her hands, so that he could examine her face. As he tried to touch her, she jerked and looked at him with terror on her face. Suddenly, it hit him : he was the one that scared her. The realization was enough to make his heart sink, as he took a step back.

Please don’t touch me, she whispered. Please.

Ok, he said softly as he held his hands up. I won’t touch you. I just need to make sure you’re alright, baby.

Tears were still streaming down her face and her chest was heaving. He had to fight against his own urges to touch her, wipe her tears and take her in his arms. He was about two feet away from her but it felt too big a distance. He looked at her cheek : the slap hadn’t left a mark. Evidently, it hadn’t been too violent. On a physical aspect, at least. He knew full well the psychological effects of such a gesture.

I didn’t mean to scare you, baby. I’m so sorry, he said softly.

Who are you ?! She blurted out. Wh-What… What did you do ?!

He sighed and looked at her face. It was crumbling, filled with doubt and uncertainty. She had never looked at him like this before. Sure, their first argument was one to remember, and she had certainly looked at him with hatred and disgust, but this look was different. It was a look of fear.

He hit you, Y/N, he said.

You hit him ! You hit my father !

Yes I did, he replied sternly. No father, hell, no parent should ever raise a hand on their child.

It’s… my fault, she said. I said something he didn’t like. I-I shouldn’t have, really. This one is on me.

So what ? He asked. I’m sorry but that doesn’t justify shit, Y/N. I’ve raised three kids, four if you count Nate. Do you know how many times they’ve been insufferable and thrown shit in my face ? A lot. But I can tell you I have never, ever lifted a finger on them. That shit is not ok.

She looked down and buried her face in her hands once again. He wasn’t sure if he should approach her or not. She seemed so distressed, he decided against it, although it broke his heart. After a minute or so, she got up and made her way to the bedroom. He followed her, making sure not to be too close.

Baby, talk to me, he said softly.

Please, no, she said. I need… I need a minute.

He nodded and she went to the bathroom. He heard the lock click. He sighed and sat on the bed. He absolutely did not regret his actions. For all he cared, Jean could sue him, he didn’t give a shit about it. What worried him was what Y/N would think of him. The last thing he wanted was to be seen as someone violent by the person he loved the most. He heard the water running and figured she would take some time. He went back to the living room area and grabbed a can of coke. God knew he needed a sugary drink. The wine bottle was still on the table, half full, as well as the plates of their meal. To be fair, he wasn’t hungry anymore. He sat on the couch and let his head fall back against the headrest as he tried to think of how he would possibly navigate the situation with Y/N. About forty-five minutes later, she came out of the bathroom, wearing her PJs.

Good night, she called from the bedroom.

We should talk, first, he said before joining her.

She seemed a little less distraught, though she still had a frown on her face. She was getting under the cover when he sat on the edge of the bed.

How are you feeling, babe ? He asked carefully.

I don’t know, she said. I’m not even sure how I am supposed to feel.

Did he hurt you ? How is your cheek ?

I-It’s fine, she said. I’m just… I don’t even know how to say it. But you… You were… Terrifying.

I am so sorry, my love, he said. I didn’t mean to scare you. But I saw him hit you, and I lost it.

It wasn’t you, she said. It was someone who looks like you, but it’s not you, Marshall. I’ve never seen you like this. You’re not this angry, scary person.

Well it was me, he sighed. I hate that you had to see me like this. I hate that side of me. I used to be this very angry person but I worked on it. It takes a lot for me to get angry like this, you know ?

You were so intimidating, she said. Suddenly, you were yelling, a-and you were slapping my dad… And I couldn’t help but think “that’s not him, that’s not my boyfriend, that’s not the man I am moving in with”...

He sighed and took his head in his hands. He said nothing for a couple of seconds before looking at her.

I am so sorry, Y/N. I keep on saying that, but it’s true. I need you to know that I would never do that shit to you, he said. I know it must have been very scary for you, especially because you have never seen me like this before, but I want you to know that I would never, ever scream at you like this, let alone lay a finger on you.

I know, she whispered. But… He is my father. And you hit him.

He is your father, he replied. And he hit you. And I am not ok with that. I am not ok with anyone hitting their child, ever. I am not ok with him hitting you, and especially not in front of me. I… Fuck. Has he always been violent like this ? Was he abusive to you ?

No, she said. He is not like that. I mean, yes he is, but he usually isn’t that bad.

Meaning ?

He has always been really tough on me, she said. Really strict. But he never really hit me. Maybe once, when I was a teenager. But it’s never been a habit, you know ? But it’s my fault, I swear.

How is that your fault ? He asked. How is your father hitting you, your fault ?

Because I stood up to him, she said sheepishly. And I shouldn’t have done that. It wasn’t respectful and I shouldn’t have.

What did you say ?

I said… I said that I wasn’t asking for his opinion and that I was old enough to do whatever I wanted, she explained. And then, he said that I was his biggest disappointment and I should be thankful for everything he did for me. And when I said I didn’t care he… he slapped me. So you see, it’s my fault.

He shook his head and sighed. Her thinking it was her fault was wrong on so many levels. At least, he was relieved to know that he hadn’t been violent to her when she was growing up. Everyone was not that lucky. However, the fact that a fifty-something man was not able to handle the fact that his grown-ass daughter was making her own choices and slapped her when she stood up for herself was frankly appalling. So was the fact that Y/N didn’t seem to realize that.

Arguing with your parents, it happens, he said. Even if you had been super disrespectful, which I don’t think you were, him laying a finger on you would not be ok, babe. And I’m not even going to get started on the fact that he’s been belittling you all evening.

He was always like this, you know ? She explained. I was never good enough. But I suppose it was his way of striving for excellence. He wanted the best for me. We don’t come from money, you know. When he was growing up, he was dirt-poor. We don’t have much, we’re typical middle-class, but he worked hard for everything and he was able to give me a good chance in life. And he single-handedly raised me. I owe him everything. He is my father. He is literally my only family.

It’s kind of his job, though, he said. As a parent, that’s literally what he is supposed to do. And I’m sorry but the fact that he comes from poverty doesn’t justify shit. I come from a poor, dysfunctional family too, I should know. I’m a father, I understand the wish for your kids to do good, but that will never be an excuse to behave the way he behaved.

She ducked her head down. He knew his words weren’t exactly what she wanted to hear, but he’d rather tell her the truth.

I can’t move back, she whispered.

What ?! He asked. Of course you can. And you should.

Marshall, no, she said. Before he left he literally told me that if I moved to Detroit, I would have to forget him and his support.

His support ?! Oh yeah, clearly he’s the most supportive person ever, Marshall said sarcastically. Before you went back to France, we knew each other for a whole year. Shall I remind you of all the times he came to visit you ? Of all the times he was here for you, during your recovery or after you were assaulted ? Oh wait, that’s right : NONE. Literally zero. That man has no idea what you’ve been through and he doesn’t see all that you’ve accomplished. You don’t get to call yourself “Dad” just because you helped make a baby. It takes more than that. So why the hell should you care about his so-called support ?!

Because I don’t have a family ! She cried. Marshall, you are the love of my life and I would follow you anywhere. And I told you I don’t care about marriage and children if I get to be with you and I meant it, but I can’t do it if it means that I am losing the only family that I have, the most important person in my life.

What kind of father would do that to his daughter ?! Do you even realize how wrong that is, Y/N ? He asked as he was starting to get worked up.

I want to be with you, Marshall. I do. But…

No « but », he said firmly. That’s bullshit and you know it. If anything, that’s one more reason why you should move. Are you seriously going to live with him after that ?!

I can’t lose my only family, she cried. You’re a family man. You understand, right ?

What I understood long ago is that you get to choose your family and who is part of it, he said. Talia and Jamal are your family. And I can be your family too. But even if that weren’t the case… would you really be willing to turn down opportunities to be happy and live your life just to please your father ?

After all, that’s all it came down to : her independence and her happiness. If she told him she’d be happier in Paris, he wouldn’t mind. It would hurt him, crush him, of course, but he would understand. But judging by what he saw tonight, her sudden reluctance had nothing to do with happiness and everything to do with her fear of disappointing her Dad. She was sobbing uncontrollably and it broke his heart. All he wanted was to make her sadness go away. If he had the choice, he’d rather take her pain so that she could be free of it.

All I’m saying is… don’t make a decision tonight, alright ? He said softly. Just like you needed to think before accepting to move back, you need to think about it. And you need to put yourself first. Not me, not your Dad, not anyone else. You.

I don’t know, she whispered in a croaky voice.

Come here, he said as he gestured for her to come in his arms.

She looked at him and had a second of hesitation, but she got out of the covers and nestled against him. He engulfed her in his embrace. He could feel her tears on his neck. They stayed like this for a while, not talking, not moving either.

I love you, he whispered in her ear. I’m so sorry you didn’t get the evening you deserved.

I love you too, she said quietly. Thank you for tonight. You really tried to make a good impression on my Dad.

Didn’t work but… Yeah, he shrugged. I tried.

I’m sorry he didn’t like you, she added. I wish he would have given you a chance. I tried telling him that you make me really happy, you know ?

I know, babe, he said softly. I don’t need his approval or any blessing from him, though. It would have been nice if we had gotten along, for sure, but as long as I have you, I don’t care. I’m good. Yours is the only approval I need.

I would be crushed if your family hated me, she pointed out. I don’t know how you do it.

Mostly, it comes down to being an ass and not giving a fuck what people think, he chuckled. You, on the other hand, care too much for your own good. But it’s ok because my family likes you. Let’s look at it this way : it’s 50% of our families that approve of us, that’s not bad, right ? Plus, if you consider the number of family members… Odds are in our favor, you know ? There’s only one of him and a lot of people in my family. And I know you like good statistics.

She chuckled for the first time all night. Her soft laugh was music to his ears. Even though her face was puffy from crying, she looked quite adorable and he could not refrain from kissing her temple. He stared into her big doe eyes and smiled at her.

Let’s try and save our evening, ok ? He offered. We could order some dessert and watch the Office.

I’m not really hungry, she said. And you hate the Office.

Hate is a strong word.

You said you hate Michael and he makes you cringe, she pointed out.

He does, but I know that Jim and Pam make your heart melt, that Jim’s pranks make you laugh your ass off and that you have a soft spot for Dwight, he said with a smile. So we can watch it. I know it’s one of your comfort shows.

You remember ? She asked surprised.

I do, he said. Six months was not enough to forget about you. Six lifetimes wouldn’t even do it. You’re still all over the house, you know ? I still have your movies in my Netflix account, bottles of that non-alcoholic wine you love in the pantry and your perfume may or may not be in my bathroom.

Really ? She asked with an emotional smile.

Really, he said. You’ll be right at home. I promise.

He took her hand in his and squeezed it. He had to convince her to fly back to Detroit with him. For her sake, as well as his. They cuddled in bed, watching the stupid TV show. He could tell she was bothered and her mind was wandering, but at least she smiled at the lame jokes. Most of his attention was on her, as well as trying to find ways to get her to make the right choice. He needed a plan, and he needed it fast.

#eminem #marshall mathers #slim shady #eminem fanfiction #eminem fluff #eminem imagine #eminem x reader #marshall mathers x reader #recovery fanfiction #marshall mathers imagine

70 notes · View notes