#like a little kid crying through my homework | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sescoups · 4 months

Text

on my knees - choi seungcheol

masterlist

summary: your best friend and roommate is out of the country, and you come home to find nothing short of a disaster. who else would you have called but her brother?

word count: ~9k oops

a/n: I have no fucking clue what happened to me, but I just started writing and then didn't stop for like 4 hours so. here you go. you're welcome and also I'm sorry.

18+ MDNI!! warnings under the cut!

warnings: heavy kissing, seungcheol is the epitome of a Simp, p in v sex, unprotected sex (don't), oral sex (f receiving), slight size kink, let me know if I missed something!

You had been best friends with Sua since you were both six years old. One of the older boys had pushed you onto the ground, wanting to be ahead of you in the line for the slide. Most of the other kids had laughed as tears started pouring down your cheeks, your knee rubbed red and raw and your pretty dress covered in dust and gravel.

“Are you really so immature you can’t even wait your turn?” a small voice had piped up.

Through the haze of your tears, you had seen a pretty black-haired girl kneel down to help you out. She had brushed away the worst of the dirt from your dress, and leaned in to look at your knee.

“I don’t know much about scrapes,” she said thoughtfully, “but I think you should clean it. That’s what my mom always says to me and my brother.” Then she smiled before standing up and glaring at the boy again. “You’re a poopyhead, and I will never play with you.”

Thinking back on it as adults, you always laughed at her phrasing; even more amusing was the way the little boy had taken Sua’s comment way too seriously and tried to fight her in the playground. Before any of the adults had been able to intervene, Sua’s older brother had stepped between the two of them menacingly, arms crossed across his chest. He was three years older, so the other boy quickly back-tracked when faced with Seungcheol’s nine-year old frame. After the little boy had run away out of fear, crying, the two siblings had helped you off the ground and to your parents.

The rest was history; playdates as children, study dates in middle and high school, and spending every single summer vacation together. You had gone from climbing trees to shopping at the mall, and from learning the alphabet to crying your way through chemistry together. Well, you more than her, but still. The suffering was mutual.

Your dynamic remained largely unchanged throughout the years. You were the crier, and Sua was the fixer. You hated the way you cried at the smallest inconveniences, and often felt bad for Sua for having to fix it, but she always said it was cute. She said you were just like that, and that was okay. Sua had her own quirks, mainly being quick to anger - you reassured her that you didn’t mind holding her back from fights and silencing her before she could yell insults at undeserving people, so really, you were the same. Just, you know, in a different way.

Another thing that never really changed was the way Seungcheol took care of the both of you. He helped out with homework when he could, taught Sua how to fight (truly a dubious decision considering her anger, but that was his business and not yours), and scared away any icky boys that were mean to you.

It was a very different dynamic to how other siblings seemed to act, but since you were an only child, you wouldn’t really know. Though, to be fair, he seldom held back the snarky comments when the opportunity presented itself. He would roll his eyes whenever you cried, call Sua an idiot when she didn’t understand a math problem, and generally be a dick when you played games together. It was all in good fun, you supposed.

Now, being 24 years old and two years out of college, Sua was your roommate and your rock. She was the one who put up with your generally messy habits and lack of cooking acumen, and she only complained once a month or so. In return, you were the one to make sure bills were paid on time and keep the freezer stocked with ice cream during the hot summer months. A symbiotic relationship, if you’d ever seen one.

You saw significantly less of Seungcheol, though he was far from an uncommon fixture in your household. He knew the code for the keypad on the door, so sometimes he just showed up unannounced to raid your kitchen and take a nap on your couch, but you didn’t mind. He did tend to fix anything that was broken and clean up whatever you couldn’t be bothered to, so the transaction was fair in your opinion.

One fateful Tuesday, you received a call during your lunch break at work. Usually, you wouldn’t answer, preferring to take your 45 minutes to scroll down your social media feeds aimlessly while eating your food, but Sua had always had special privileges, so you picked up anyway.

“Hey, sorry, I know I’m interrupting your scheduled vegetable time,” she started, and you snorted in response.

“I am not eating anything with vegetables in it, and I think you know it.” You were opening the store-bought lunchbox while speaking, your phone tucked between your elbow and your cheek.

“If I didn’t cook you dinner every day, you would have scurvy,” she shot back without a second’s hesitation. “No, dumbass, I meant your own brain-turning-to-vegetable time. Duh.”

“Oh, that,” you replied, unphased by her insults and generally snarky tone. You were used to it. And also kind of deserved it.

“Yeah. Well anyway, something came up at work and I’m gonna have to take an unscheduled work trip.”

“Cool. Where to?”

“Tokyo, so not that far,” she sighed, and you could picture her running her fingers through her hair. She never did well with unexpected travel plans. “I have to leave tonight. I just thought I’d let you know, so you can make plans to get takeout tonight.”

You scoffed down the line, placing a forkful of bulgogi in your mouth and chewing quickly. God bless convenience store lunchboxes. “I know how to take care of myself, mom.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, you slob.” Again, you could picture Sua’s nose crinkling in disgust. “I’m kidding, by the way. I know you can take care of yourself. Just letting you know I’m leaving so you don’t think I’ve been kidnapped or killed or something.”

“Thank God I don’t have to deal with the paperwork for a missing person,” you deadpanned and took a drink of your Sprite. “No but for real, enjoy the trip. I’ll be fine, and so will you.”

“Thanks,” your best friend sighed back. “I’ll be back in a week or so. I’m gonna go home and pack now, so if anything’s a mess when you get home- actually, nevermind. That doesn’t bother you at all. Bye.”

“Hey-” you started to protest, but the line went dead and you rolled your eyes.

Well. At least now you could have sushi for dinner without having to listen to Sua complain about the smell of raw fish.

You were so ready to become a couch potato as soon as you came home. One of the new employees at work, Jun, had screwed up a pretty important document, so you’d had to stay late and help him fix it. It wasn’t his fault, he was still new, but you were tired nonetheless. You took your shoes off by the door and turned the lights on in the kitchen, placing the bag of takeout on the counter before you heard it.

The water.

You had never had any issues with the pipes in your apartment, but something had obviously gone wrong with the pipes under the bathroom sink, because the floor was absolutely flooded. You gasped and shut your eyes tightly for a second, willing the problem to be miraculously gone as soon as you opened them again. Alas, no such luck.

The tears pressed behind your eyes, begging to make their escape. You tried to hold them back as you thought about what to do to solve the problem. The faucet wasn’t on, so it was definitely the pipes. Damn. You thought about calling the apartment management and asking for help, but their turnover time was two days at the best of times, and the office was already closed for the day. You heaved a deep sigh as you settled on the best option you could think of. You pressed the name in your contacts and begged the universe that he would pick up.

“What’s up?”

Seungcheol sounded relaxed and unbothered, and you could hear the chatter of a TV in the background. You hated to bother him, but hey, it was his little sister’s apartment too. You cleared your throat to try and get rid of the thickness in your throat brought on by the tears.

“Hey, Cheol,” you began, and you heard him sit up immediately and pause whatever was playing on the TV.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

He sounded worried; he usually only called you an endearment when he was worried or teasing you. Clearing your throat had evidently not been enough to get rid of the tears in your voice. Some of them finally escaped in tracks down your cheeks, and you swore, leaning your forehead against the doorframe.

“So uh, I just got home, and Sua isn’t here because she’s in Tokyo and I-”

“Y/N, I don’t care about Sua right now. I know she’s fine, she landed half an hour ago. What’s going on with you?”

“The guest bathroom is flooded, like completely, and I don’t know what to do.”

You heard the rustling of clothes and what sounded like keys jingling through the phone. “Jesus Christ, I thought you were fucking dying,” Seungcheol scolded, and you hiccupped a little, apologizing. “No, don’t worry darling, I’m coming over to help, okay?”

“Okay.”

You were sniffling, and you heard him curse under his breath. You hung up after a quick goodbye, and then you were left alone with the mess again. Looking closer, you realized that the bath mat was soaked along with a towel left on the floor. You sighed and took your socks off, deciding to do something productive while waiting for your knight in shining armor.

You took a picture and sent it to Sua, who replied immediately with a bunch of question marks and swear words directed to the apartment management. She also realized they would be no help at this hour. Great.

Once the soaked bath mat and towel were hung up and dripping into the tub as opposed to the flooded floor, you started clearing out some of the decorations that were taking up floor space. There was a giant plant, two laundry baskets, and a really heavy wooden dresser that held all your clean towels - you didn’t want the wood to rot.

You heard the door open while you were in the process of moving the plant. Honestly, you should have waited for Seungcheol to move this one; the plant was heavy as fuck and really awkward to carry, and you could feel your back protesting before you had even gotten it outside of the bathroom.

“What the hell, Y/N.”

The voice was closely followed by a pair of hands grabbing the plant from you and heaving it outside of the door in mere seconds. Showoff.

“Are you okay?” Seungcheol asked after placing the plant down on a towel, grabbing your upper arm gently. You nodded, and he sighed, squeezing your arm. “Let’s see the- oh fuck.”

You couldn’t help it, you started laughing. Hysterically. The bathroom floor was covered in two inches of water, and the sound of more spraying out was echoing off the walls. Your best friend’s brother glared at you for two seconds before he started laughing too. It wasn’t funny, but it kind of was. How had this even happened? And how had Sua not seen anything when she was home to pack?

“Sorry, Cheol,” you giggled, wiping under your eyes to get rid of the tears that were still falling. Typical. “I, uh, wanted to move the plant and the dresser to make more room and-”

“Darling, that plant was almost heavier than you are. Not to mention that dresser. What were you thinking?”

His voice soothed your panic. He had been solving your problems for the past eighteen years, after all; this was nothing he couldn’t handle. He looked ruffled, you realized. He had been relaxing after a long day at work when you called, and had gotten to your apartment as fast as he could just to help you. And now he was here, being all nice and caring and calling you sweet names. You felt like a stupid child.

“I-I’m sorry. For calling you, I shouldn’t have, I-”

“Absolutely not. You can call me about anything at any time, you got that?” he asked sternly, gazing directly into your eyes. You swallowed, but nodded. His words gave you unwelcome butterflies, the intensity of his gaze making you look away.

“Got it,” you replied when a nod didn’t seem to be enough for him. “Uhm, so how do we deal with this?”

For a moment, the only sound you could hear was the steady spray of water coming from under the sink. You realized that all the products underneath would be useless now, and you would probably have to change out the entire cabinet housing the pipes. You felt a migraine start a steady throb against your temples, and you deflated even more, resting against the doorway.

“It’s okay, I’ll fix it for you, darling,” Seungcheol said softly, pulling you in for a hug. Your stomach erupted in butterflies again. You seriously needed some psychological help. “Just go change, okay? You must be exhausted.”

You shook your head, but relented when he lifted an eyebrow at you. You went to your room and closed the door. For a moment, you just stood there, staring at nothing. Your bathroom was flooded. And your best friend’s brother was helping you fix it, calling you sweet nicknames and saying shit straight out of a romance novel - as if your dumb crush on him needed any more encouragement. You sunk onto the edge of your bed for a moment, just breathing deeply and blinking back more tears. Enough was enough.

When you were fourteen or so, you’d had a crush on Seungcheol. Who wouldn’t? He was tall, pretty, smelled good, and helped you with your homework. Ever since then, it would come and go, usually at the most inopportune times. You appreciated his looks pretty often, particularly when he came over to fix stuff for you and Sua, but you tried not to think about it much - mostly out of self preservation. He was still pretty, still nice, still smelled good, and whenever you let your mind wander for more than five seconds, you knew you were in danger.

You definitely should get it under control. First of all, he had known you since you were six. He had seen all your weird phases, watched you find your own identity, and that came with some really cringy stuff. Additionally, you were his little sister’s best friend. You had some loyalty to her, sure, but more than anything you were sure that he saw you as an extra sister or something. Considering the amount of time you had spent at their house growing up, that would only be logical.

Armed with the reminder of why he would never be into you, you shook it all off. You located your regular home attire - bike shorts and a big t-shirt which origins you forgot - and put your hair up and out of your face. Then you steeled yourself again, vowing not to cry at the sight of the water, and walked back towards the accursed bathroom.

You found Seungcheol on his knees in front of the open cabinet from where the water came. He was hunched over, hand in front of him to block some of the water and seemingly looking for something. His white t-shirt had been sprayed with water, and it was sticking to his chest. You gulped at the sight, repeating that he saw you as an annoying crybaby to yourself in order to stop the stupid butterflies that had seemingly taken up permanent residence in your guts.

“Do you need a flashlight or something?” you asked timidly, making him look up at you. He paused and blinked at you once, twice, before clearing his throat and nodding. You got out your phone and turned the flashlight on, carefully stepping in behind him so as not to splash him.

“I, uh, think we need to remove this middle shelf from the cabinet,” he said, having positioned himself to shield you from the spray.

“Alright,” you replied, placing your phone to the side and leaning to grab the shelf before being stopped by one of his hands. He had placed it carefully on bare skin so as not to get your clothes wet. Damn him. “What? I’ll just grab it and get it out of the way for you.”

He scoffed. “You’ll get wet.”

Now it was your turn to blink at him stupidly, eyes wide and questioning. You could feel your cheeks burning, as did your arm where his hand was resting. This stupid, stupid man was going to make you fall in love with him, and that just couldn’t happen. At all.

“Who cares, Cheol? It’s just water. Let me get it out of your way, and I’ll hold the flashlight again, okay?”

He grimaced, but let go of your arm. You grabbed both sides of the shelf and lifted it. It took a bit of pressure, but eventually it came loose. You backed up slowly and brought the shelf over the tub with the soaked bath mat and dirty towel. Gross.

Even though you had been fast, Seungcheol had been right; your entire torso was soaked with water. You decided that you could do something about it after the leak was dealt with, and so you just ignored it and grabbed your phone again. Your friend was staring at your front with a wrinkle between his brows, mouth open a little, and you rolled your eyes affectionately.

“Cheol.” He looked up at you. “It’s fine. I know you wanted to shield me or whatever, but it’s just a shirt. Now please, help me solve this?”

He nodded wordlessly and turned back to the considerably more spacious cabinet, taking a deep breath. His pout was cute, and you hated your heart for beating faster at the sight of him.

Seungcheol seemed to finally have found what he was looking for, and reached into the cabinet. You altered the angle of the light to make sure he could still see what he was doing despite the shadow of his arm. He grabbed ahold of something and started tugging, his biceps flexing distractingly and his eyebrows screwing up in effort. You were definitely not holding the flashlight in a particularly helpful way anymore, but thankfully your helper didn’t seem to mind.

After a second or two the water slowed before stopping completely, and you cheered out loud. The sound had somehow become grating after only an hour, and the silence was very much welcome. Seungcheol stood up with a wince, holding a hand to his back like an old man. Without thinking, you pulled him into you and gave him a bear hug. You felt tears prick at your eyes again, but held them back. You were just so grateful to have him.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

You felt him laugh against you before he wrapped an arm gently around you and returned the hug. You pressed your cheek to his chest, just standing there and enjoying the embrace for a while before your brain would inevitably come back online. You felt his chin press against the top of your head for a second before he pulled away suddenly.

“Shit, sorry, I’m all-”

“I said I don’t care, stupid,” you scoffed, but your cheeks were definitely getting red now. How could you have just grabbed him like that? And embraced him? You would have cried if you hadn’t been so tired your head felt like it was full of cotton.

Now that you thought about it, you were extremely tired. It felt like a movie effect, the way your blood pressure just suddenly dropped and you swayed to the side. You were expecting a splash and a very uncomfortable kiss with the tile floor, but instead you found yourself back in Seungcheol’s arms. Oh.

Again with the stupid romance novel shit. The universe was testing you for sure. How were you supposed to resist him, really? You were doomed. Even the thought of your infatuation with him being one-sided could no longer bring you back down to the ground. You were simply fucked.

“When was the last time you ate anything?”

And he cares? Fuck the universe, seriously.

“Uhm, I think it was lunch. I stayed pretty late at work, so-”

“Please tell me you have food.”

“Y-Yeah. It’s uh, it’s on the counter in the kitchen.”

Without hesitation, the man picked you up and carried you into the kitchen. Your heart was going crazy, as were the butterflies in your stomach. You were at a loss for words, just going limp in his arms as he brought you to the dining table and placed you on one of the chairs gingerly. You continued to simply blink at him as he disappeared back into the hallway and came back with his hoodie, pulling it over your head before disappearing into the kitchen.

You wanted to scream and kick your feet, because was this man even real? You had no idea how you had deluded yourself into thinking your feelings toward him were sisterly, because currently, your pussy was screaming for him to come ruin you. And honestly? Both your heart and your head kind of agreed at this moment. You were so screwed.

When he came back with your sushi all plated and a glass for the drink you had bought, you couldn’t help but let the tears come back. You hated that you were so weepy, especially in front of a man you apparently were head over heels for, but it was just who you were. You were sad? You cried. Happy? Cried. Angry? Waterworks. You were helpless to it, and apparently to him, too.

“Good job picking up food on the way back home,” he teased, placing the plate in front of you. Then he poured your drink into your glass for you, promptly ignoring the way you were wiping your cheeks with the sleeve of his hoodie.

“Shut up, I’m an adult,” you pouted back. He snorted loudly and sank into the chair opposite you, looking at you as you picked up your chopsticks and got ready to eat.

“Sometimes, maybe,” he drawled with a smirk. You glared at him, but your teary eyes had little to no effect, and you knew it. “I’m kidding, baby. I know.”

He was still studying your face as you placed the first piece of heaven into your mouth, sighing happily and smiling in delight. It made him smile, too, and you could have died at the sight of his dimples. At this point, you had just accepted the butterflies and their claim to your stomach; doing anything else seemed futile.

“I’m sorry I’m so weepy, Cheol,” you said between bites, pouting a little. He shook his head but you interrupted him before he could speak. “No, really. There was no reason to cry so much, or so many times, but I just- I don’t know. I literally got home right before I called you, and that was, what? At around-”

“9.30.”

“Yeah,” you sighed, leaning back in your chair and tilting your head back in exhaustion. “9.30. I’m just tired, is what I’m trying to say.” You sat back up and huffed, sending him an embarrassed smile.

“And what I’m trying to say,” Seungcheol said while you readjusted the sleeves of his hoodie, “is to not worry about it. I know you’re an emotional person, but that’s okay.” He paused for a second, smiling when you almost dropped your sushi into the soy sauce. “Being emotional is just a tiny part of who you are. You excel at so much; it’s okay to have a few flaws. We all do, I promise. Besides, being emotional isn’t really a flaw, it’s just part of being human.”

At this, you couldn’t help but laugh a little. First of all, he was way too well-spoken to be a man in his twenties. Second of all, if he was implying that he, of all people, had any flaws, he was dead wrong. You had never seen him fail at anything, had never seen him do something awkward, even as a child. God, you wished he had, because maybe then he could have remained the brother of your best friend instead of becoming so incredibly meaningful to you.

“As if you have any flaws,” you mumbled, sticking another piece of food in your mouth. At least the sushi was good.

“Oh please, sweetheart. I’m twenty-seven and single. There’s plenty wrong with me.”

You shook your head vehemently. “Being single is not a flaw, you dummy. It’s just a relationship status. Who cares.”

“As if that’s all it is,” he laughed back.

“Okay, so the fact that I’m single reflects badly on me? ” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “Good to know.”

Your plate was empty, and your chopsticks were resting on the edge of it. The only sound in the apartment was a steady, slow drip from the drying bath mat in the bathroom. You were staring at one another from across the table. Why the tension suddenly was so thick was anyone’s guess. All you knew was that the air in your little kitchen suddenly felt suffocating.

“You’re single?” he asked after a while, and you laughed a little.

“Yeah, Cheol.”

“What about that dude, what was his name… Mingyu?”

“Ew,” you said, wrinkling your nose. “God no. We went on like, one date and then decided it was weird to be anything other than friends. He feels more like a brother than anything.”

“What about Chan?”

“Wh- Chan? That was four years ago,” you laughed, shaking your head. At the curious tilt of his head, you kept going: “He was fine, we just got stressed during college and broke up. It happens.”

Something about this line of questioning felt momentous, for a few reasons. One, he was inquiring about your dating life, a topic the two of you generally never talked about. Two, he remembered the name of potential partners that had been in your life, even ones that hadn’t stuck around for long (or at all, in Mingyu’s case). And three… the way he looked at you was different. There was something in his gaze that you couldn’t place, something you didn’t know if you dared hope for.

“Well he’s obviously an idiot,” Seungcheol said under his breath. You were probably not supposed to hear it, but you did. Your heart stuttered in your chest as he looked at you guiltily, as if he had done something wrong. “I just meant that- uhm.”

A few seconds passed in silence. You barely dared to breathe. You were hoping he would keep going, hoping he would clarify before your thoughts went way too far again. The tension was so thick it could have been cut with a knife. Finally, he let out the heaviest sigh you’d ever heard.

“No, you know what, I meant it. He was an idiot for breaking up with you, because anyone would be lucky to have you.”

Time stopped. What do you say after that? You wanted to scream with joy and jump his bones, of course, but you couldn’t exactly do that. What if he didn’t mean it like that? If he didn’t feel the way you hoped he was implying? Because he, or more specifically his sister, was such a huge part of your life, and awkwardness was just not an option.

“Are-” you started, but blinked and started over. “Are you… serious?”

“Of course I am, Y/N.” He sounded almost exasperated. He ran a hand through his slightly damp hair, making it fall over his forehead in the most attractive way you had ever seen. Fucking. Unfair. “I’m not- I mean. I get it if you don’t feel the same or anything, but-”

“Feel what, exactly?” When he stared at you in confusion, you elaborated. “Please be clear with me, Cheol. I don’t want to keep guessing.”

It had come out as a whisper, but he had heard you. His expression softened, and the wrinkle between his brows disappeared. His mouth was slightly open as he seemingly looked for the right words. Your heart was beating out of your chest, and you almost felt it in your throat.

“Baby,” he started, and it made your breath hitch. “I don’t think I’ve ever met someone as dense as you are.”

“Hey!”

“No, seriously,” he kept going, not a single trace of evidence that he was joking, “do you actually mean to tell me you don’t know how I feel about you?”

“Look, I don’t-”

“I guess you don’t, and in that case, that’s my bad.” He got up from his chair and rounded the table, crouching next to your chair and grabbing your hand. “I am so ridiculously into you, it’s not even funny. Sua literally won’t stop teasing me about it, neither will my parents or my friends. No matter how hard I try I can’t stop thinking about you, but I’m honestly not sure I would want to even if I could. You mean so much to me, Y/N, and I really don’t want to be overbearing but I- fuck, I can’t-” he shuts his eyes in an attempt to collect himself, “I love you, baby, and if you don’t feel the same that’s fine, but I at least need you to know that I’m on my goddamn knees for you.”

Your glass, still containing some of your soda, toppled over from the force with which you left your chair. The way you threw yourself at Seungcheol forced him back, but you took the opportunity and placed yourself in his lap as you kissed him deeply. It took him half a second to respond, but then he was kissing you so ardently that you never wanted him to stop.

His arm wrapped around you from behind and pressed you to his chest. You could not give less of a shit that he was sprawled on your kitchen floor, or that you were down there with him, because you were kissing him. You were kissing the man that you most definitely had been in love with since you were a teenager, and fuck did it feel good.

“I, uh, take it you feel the same, then?” he asked after having reluctantly pulled away. You pressed your forehead to his.

“I bet that I have loved you longer.” You were breathing heavily, already missing the feeling of his lips on yours.

“Absolutely not,” he replied before kissing you again.

This time, you couldn’t hold back. You nibbled gently on his lower lip before soothing it over with your tongue. Seungcheol groaned deep in his chest and brought his left hand into your hair, pressing you even closer to him. He opened his mouth, letting your tongue tangle with his, and you felt the way he became jelly underneath you. You were not faring much better, your panties hot and sticky and your hands shaking. Despite this, you snaked one hand into his hair and tugged on it; his hips jumped in response, the action seemingly completely involuntary. You didn’t think you’d ever experienced anything hotter.

“Please, baby,” he heaved as you trailed your lips down his neck, “I can’t take it.”

You rolled your hips against his slowly, and that seemed to be his breaking point. He rolled you underneath him before standing up and taking you with him, carrying you into your bedroom while you followed the shape of his jaw up to his ear with your mouth. A shudder streaked through him as you sucked on the spot behind his left ear, his arms tightening around you and a hoarse moan leaving him.

You barely noticed him closing your bedroom door, only brought back to reality by the sensation of falling when he dropped you on your bed. You whined at the loss of contact, which made him smile; he loved the way you craved him, because honestly, he felt the exact same way about you. So he was quick to cover your body with his, his lips back on yours with a shuddered sigh from the both of you.

He felt so big above you, and yet you felt so safe. Not once had he done anything to hurt you. In fact, he had always been the one to take care of you and prevent you from being hurt. (Along with Sua, but you didn’t really want to think about her at that moment). His weight on top of you made you shudder in delight, your hands starting to wander. You played with the hem of his white t-shirt, still damp from the earlier bathroom catastrophe, but you didn’t care at all. All you wanted was to feel his skin against yours.

He was breathing as if he had run a marathon when he pulled away from your lips. He stared into your eyes, looking for any sign of reluctance, but not finding any.

“Are you sure, darling?” he asked, and your heart swelled about three sizes.

“I’m so sure, Cheol. Please, please, I need you.” You were properly whining now, but you were far past caring.

“Okay baby, okay,” he breathed, pulling away to get his shirt up and over his head. He was about to lay back over you, but froze and let his eyes wander your body. He shut his eyes, his forehead wrinkling once again as he took a few deep breaths. “You in my hoodie and underneath me, I can’t- Y/N, baby, I need a second, I’m so-”

You giggled a little before grabbing the hem of said hoodie, pulling it up and over your head. Apparently, that didn’t help, as Seungcheol’s grip on the sheets tightened and he cursed under his breath.

“I thought this would be better,” you said in confusion, blinking up at him.

“I’m actually going to die,” he gritted out, sounding as if he was genuinely in pain. “I don’t think you realize what seeing you in a wet t-shirt did to me earlier, sweetheart. What it’s doing to me now is just torture.” You flushed at his words, having forgotten that little detail. “Wait. Is that my shirt?” You glanced down and flushed even more when you realized it must be. “Fuck, gonna be the death of me, gonna fucking-”

He cut himself off by pressing his lips against yours again. Your head immediately got fuzzy again, the only thought you could formulate being that of his dick inside of you. When he ground his hips against yours and you felt the outline of it, you let out the most sinful moan Seungcheol has ever heard, which caused his hips to keep grinding into you without his brain’s permission. You disconnected your lips from his for just long enough to pull your wet shirt off your alarmingly hot body, and the man on top of you didn’t even have the strength to look at you without a shirt. He might actually have came in his pants if he did.

You didn’t even mind, because you finally had his skin pressed against yours. The heat of him poured over you, driving you absolutely insane and making you whimper against his lips. If he didn’t do something in the next minute, you would just have to take care of yourself.

“Cheol-”

“Please say it again,” he begged, his lips trailing down your neck toward your breasts.

“Cheol,” you sighed, and he moaned against your skin, his dick grinding perfectly against your clit even through four layers of fabric. You barely recognized your own sounds even as you felt them leave your lips, so high on his proximity you couldn’t have produced a thought if you tried.

When you repeated his name one more time he finally closed his lips around your right nipple, his deft fingers playing with the other and his cock still pressing deliciously against your pussy. Your hips lifted to grind back on him, and he actually whined for you.

“Seungcheol,” you whined, and his only response was a harsh thrust of his hips and another whine. “Please, take my shorts off, I need you to fuck me so bad.”

He let go of your nipple, chuckling as he looked into your eyes and dragged his hands down to rest on your hips. “Want these off?” he asked, flicking the elastic of your bike shorts against your skin. You nodded frantically, pressing your hips up into his again. He looked like he wanted to protest, so you decided to do the only logical thing and beg for his cock.

“Cheol, please please please, take my shorts off? I need it, please,” you begged, your eyes big and innocent as you stared into his. “I want your cock, baby, want it inside me, please.”

Honestly, it was no surprise that his confident facade crumbled along with his will to tease you any longer. If he was telling the truth, and you had no reason not to believe him, he had been in love with you for a long time. You had played dirty by begging him for his cock when he had already been on the verge of losing his mind - especially with those big, innocent eyes of yours. How was he supposed to say no to you?

“Evil, evil woman, fuck,” he muttered to himself as he all but tore the shorts down your legs along with your panties.

The sight of you, his absolute dream, naked beneath him made him believe in God for two whole seconds, for who could have accomplished something like you but an almighty deity? He must have shaped you with his own two hands, he thought, before coming back to his senses and thinking that no, you were a creation of your own. No one but you could have accomplished something like you.

With very little preamble, Seungcheol lowered himself between your thighs, kissing up the inside of each thigh as he went. He looked up and met your gaze, and you had never seen a more erotic sight. Sure, other people had gone down on you before, but none of them had been Seungcheol; none of them had been the one that counted. His big brown eyes met yours, and you swore you saw raw hunger in them.

“May I, baby? Please?”

“You- You’re begging to eat me out?” you asked, in complete and utter shock. You had figured this was somewhat of a chore to him, something that needed to be done both to woo you and to prep you for his cock. One look at his glazed eyes had you changing your mind.

“Yes,” he said without hesitation. His voice was hoarse and his eyes desperate, that simple look giving you enough material for many fantasies in the future. “Please, let me eat you out?”

What were you supposed to do, say no? Absolutely not. You simply nodded at him, and he fucking dove for it. His tongue explored your folds gently but firmly, and as soon as the flavor of you met his taste buds, he was in heaven. His hips ground into the mattress of their own volition as he was lapping at you, his tongue mapping you out and figuring out what brought you the most pleasure.

Seungcheol’s eyes were shut in pleasure, your juices covering his chin all the way up to his nose, but he couldn’t think of anything better. He wanted to drown in you, on his stomach between your legs, or - if he was allowed to dream - underneath you while you were grinding all over his face, taking all the pleasure you could from him.

You weren’t exactly complaining, either. His tongue felt divine, moving to gently circle your clit before he sucked it into his mouth. When your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging in pleasure, your lover let out a grunt that sent vibrations traveling through your entire body.

“F-Fingers, Cheol, please-”

He just grunted an affirmative and pressed his middle finger into you slowly. The warmth surrounding his finger drove him insane, making his hips press harder against the mattress and his eyes squeeze tighter. Having something to clench down on brought your pleasure to even greater heights, and you started to feel the familiar tightening signaling your release. You had felt the outline of his dick earlier, and you knew you would need another finger to make him fit.

“Another, I need you to fit later, baby.”

Your voice came out shaky, but the man consuming your pussy like it was the best meal he’d ever had didn’t seem to mind. He simply let his ring finger join his other inside you, grunting when he felt how tight you were around him. The tightening in your lower belly grew more and more intense by the second, the filthy noises of Seungcheol devouring you bringing you that much closer to the edge. You let out a mewl that sounded like it came straight from a porno, and felt his grip tighten on your thigh.

“I’m so close, baby, so close, please-”

“Come for me,” he growled hoarsely before resuming his delicious torture of your clit.

You followed his request a second later, moaning loudly and squirming around on the bed. His free hand pressed down over your hips to keep you still as he coaxed you through it, and he didn’t stop until the overstimulation almost hurt.

His fingers left your pussy gently, absolutely covered in your slick. You blushed as he put them in his mouth, moaning at the flavor as if you were the best thing he’d ever tasted. And to him, you were. He would remember the flavor of you until the day he died.

Your chest was rising and falling as you gulped down air. The way Seungcheol couldn’t help but grind into the mattress again made you want to cry, because how could he be so perfect? And how could he want you, of all people?

When he kissed you again, you could taste yourself on his lips and tongue, and you loved it. It was a reminder of just how voraciously he had just eaten you out, and you took the opportunity to reach down and cup him over his underwear. He hissed and pulled his hips back, panting already.

“I- you can’t.”

“But, baby I just want to return the favor-”

“My love, if you touch me again I can’t guarantee that I will have faculties to be inside you.”

His words made you laugh, both because of how ridiculous his phrasing was, but also because of the effect you seemed to have on him. Had he really been driven so far by making out with you and making you cum? It seemed like it.

“I love you so much,” you ended up breathing out. He gazed into your eyes so adoringly you felt like time stopped again.

“I love you more, Y/N.”

His response prompted you to kiss him, and he deflated on top of you. As he sunk further into your embrace, his still-covered dick brushed against your wet core, and the whine he let out was almost pathetic.

“I hate to ruin the moment, but please, let me be inside you now. I think I’ll die if I can’t,” he confessed. You laughed out loud again before nodding, kissing and sucking a trail down his neck while he removed his boxers. “Condom?”

“I don’t have any, but I have an IUD and I’m clean.” You could practically see Seungcheol’s brain grind to a halt. “But, I mean, if you don’t want to we can just wai-”

“No!” he almost yelled, his entire face flushing pink. “No, I’m clean too, and I- fuck, I would love to be inside you without a condom.”

You nodded, and he took a deep breath. The thought of having him inside you without a barrier excited you to no end, and it seemed he felt the same. You kissed him passionately again while he lined himself up with your core, and moaned through a sigh as he pushed into you. He didn’t have a monster cock or anything, but it was still bigger than what you were used to taking.

As he bottomed out, he let out a punched out sigh. You could feel him shaking on top of you, and did your best not to move or clench down on him. Unfortunately, your pussy didn’t exactly obey you and clenched down anyway. It made Seungcheol’s breath hitch, and he squeezed his eyes shut tight so as not to look at you while he was trying not to cum.

“I swear,” he wheezed, “you are going to kill me.”

His words made you chuckle, which in turn made him groan and bury his face in the crook of your neck. You were ready for him to move, and told him as much, but he still needed a second. You could feel tears sting the corners of your eyes, as per usual feeling weepy as soon as you felt a big wave of emotion. To distract yourself, you locked your lips with his and kissed him with all the passion you had left to give.

As your tongue tangled with his he groaned low in his throat, and his hips thrust into you of their own accord. Once he had started, he couldn’t stop, and you didn’t want him to. He started out fairly slow, taking his time to make sure you weren’t hurting at all. Then you accidentally clenched down on him, and he could no longer hold back.

He started pounding into you, his cock reaching the deepest parts of you and making you dizzy. You moaned out every time the tip of him hit the spongy spot inside you, and you couldn’t help the way you were clenching around him. You were hurtling toward your end so fast it was almost alarming. He filled you up so perfectly, so perfectly thick and long, it was as if you were made for one another.

Seungcheol was mumbling an endless stream of praise, grunting every time your cunt squeezed him a bit tighter. He felt like he was in heaven, your slick walls molded around him in a way that made him mourn the time spent doing anything other than this. He wanted to keep you like this, impaled on his cock and making you feel as good as you ever had.

Sadly, he was so wound up he wouldn’t be able to last as long as he usually did. While he didn’t blow immediately as he had been worried he would, he started feeling his balls drawing up around five minutes in. The way your nails were scratching down his back wasn’t helping his situation.

In an effort to save himself from cumming before you, he lowered a hand to circle the nub of your clit gently. The extra stimulation was exactly what you needed to build the rest of the way to the edge, and you tangled your hands in his hair as your thighs shook.

“Please, Cheol, baby, I’m gonna-”

“Oh thank God, please cum around me, baby, wanna feel it,” he begged, and it did the trick.

Your orgasm was spectacular, your entire body feeling like it was on fire as you exploded around him. You were moaning his name, clawing at his back and arching your back to the high heavens. Your toes actually curled. It was the orgasm of orgasms.

Seeing you like that, your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he brought you pleasure was enough for Seungcheol to follow you over the edge. He came so hard he saw nothing but white, his hips stuttering as he spilled himself into you. His face was pressed into your neck, but his moans could not be concealed even if he tried.

You both lay there, panting and soaked in sweat, for a pretty long time before he finally pulled out and rolled off of you. He sprawled on his back and stayed like that, his eyes shut in complete and utter bliss and his heart beating out of his chest. Your hair was an absolute bird’s nest around you, and there were tear tracks running down your cheeks and into your hairline.

You clumsily flopped over to rest against his side, and he pulled you in until your head was resting right over his heart. You slung your bare leg over his waist, and he groaned in what sounded like agony.

“You can’t do this to me,” he whined, and you giggled lightly at him.

“I just put my leg on you, baby,” you said, looking up at him innocently, and he had to shut his eyes for a second and remind himself he wasn’t dreaming. You, yourself weren’t entirely convinced all this wasn’t a dream; and if it was, you never wanted to wake up.

“Okay, well you’ve just seen what seeing you in a hoodie and bike shorts does to me, so,” he reminded you, and you bit back a grin. It was good to know you could tease him easily.

You laid in silence for a while, just listening to his heart beating against his ribcage. Every once in a while it would slow down, and then he would look down at you and it would speed back up. Your heart seemed to match the pace of his, and you found that you loved it that way.

“So, “ Seungcheol started, and you pulled yourself up on your elbow to look at him as he talked. “That… just happened.” You snorted into a laugh, and he joined you, flicking your forehead gently. “I uh, I’m going to a work thing on Friday. I usually don’t bring a date because, well, because I’m usually single, but maybe, this time, I could bring you?”

You blinked at him slowly, admiring him in the light from your bedside lamp. He was pretty no matter what, but with his cheeks glowing and his eyes glittering, he was beyond what was natural, in your opinion. You stroked a bit of his hair behind his ear and hummed.

“I mean, are you not single anymore?” you asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Uhhhh-” he was interrupted by your laughter, and he pouted at you jokingly. “Don’t do that! I get scared I fucked up,” he said and rolled over to wrap his arms around you.

“I’m sorry,” you giggled, “I just don’t know either.” You paused. “Hey Cheol?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you want to be my boyfriend?”

At your words, his entire face lit up. He started giggling and buried his face in your hair, trying to hide from view. Even still, you knew he would be blushing. His arms squeezed tighter around you as he pulled you even closer, and you didn’t even mind that you couldn’t breathe.

“I was going to ask,” he ended up whining once brain function had returned to him. “Can I?”

“I mean, sure?” you answered, trying your hardest not to just lean in and kiss away his pout. Your willpower sucked, so you did it anyway.

“Great! Hey, Y/N, would you be my girlfriend?”

You bit your lip to hold in your laughter, but all it did was summon your boyfriend’s gaze to your mouth. You released it and broke out into a huge grin, nodding.

“I would love nothing more.”

“So what you’re saying is,” Sua said thoughtfully, “you finally put him out of his misery?”

It was a week later, and you were sitting on your balcony with Sua and drinking coffee. The bathroom floor was now dry, and while the stupid bath mat had been unsalvageable, everything else had been fine. The apartment management had gotten the leak fixed after five days, proving that calling Seungcheol had been the right choice for more reasons than one.

Even thinking about him, you couldn’t help but smile. Your boyfriend. The one who had brought you to a work function as your first date, and the one who had gotten jealous because you had greeted a coworker of his when he was getting you a drink. The one that had helped you save your apartment from water damage. The one you had loved for the past decade.

“Okay but how could I have put him through misery if I didn’t know he liked me, hm?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at your friend. She had her eyes closed, face turned toward the sun like an old lady.

“You cannot be serious,” she said incredulously, turning toward you and opening her eyes wide to show her shock. “You’re telling me you didn’t know Cheol was in love with you? He has been so down bad for you since we were like fourteen, man. He bought you flowers for your graduation. He reminded you to take your allergy pills before going to a dog café.” You flushed a little at your own blindness, but Sua just sighed and turned back toward the sun, her eyes closed again. “At least it will be easy to kill him if he hurts you.”

a/n: if you liked this, please don't forget to like and reblog! <3

masterlist

#svt x reader #seventeen smut #svt #svt smut #seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #svt fluff #seventeen fic #seventeen fanfic #svt fic #svt fanfic #sescoups writes

3K notes · View notes

literaila · 7 months

Text

slip-up

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: megumi says something he's not supposed to

warnings: bit of sad megumi (same babe), gojo is a terrible comforter, reader doesn't get a lot of screen time but she's always there, a good lack of conflict resolution

a/n: the one-shot that started this series. i figured it was time to give it up

last part | next part

year four.

megumi doesn't notice the slip-up right when he says it. he's not even really paying attention to the conversation.

instead, he's thinking about the homework assignment he was supposed to turn in today--the one that gojo refused (couldn't) help him with.

"my mom usually drops us off," he's telling his teacher, trying to be polite like you taught him and not start whining (like gojo taught him). "but she's out of town right now, so gojo dropped us off instead and he gets the times confused..."

in all honesty, megumi could blame this whole thing on gojo. because it was his fault.

usually, you woke him and tsumiki up, pulling on his hair when he whined into the pillows, packing their lunches while they both sat at the table, eating cereal or tamagoyaki. usually, you reminded megumi to tuck in his shirt and helped the two of them get their books together, taking an occasional moment to shout at megumi's budget dad to get up before he was late. usually, you walked them to the door, kissing them both goodbye and watching both of them until they closed the door.

later on, you'd be there again, welcoming them home with another smile, asking about their days. forcing them into a thorough recap.

but today megumi woke up with a sore neck and gojo smiling at him, asking if he was planning on being buried in his bed.

because even though megumi heard you tell gojo that he needed to help out, step up, the mornings while you were gone, all of you should've known better.

megumi hasn't even ever seen gojo out of bed before nine-thirty.

so here he was, with his shirt untucked, his homework missing, and a bag of lollipops that gojo packed for lunch.

here he was, three hours late for school, trying to explain to his teacher that it wasn't his fault.

and here he was, accidentally calling you mom.

but megumi doesn't even realize that until his teacher smiles a little bit, telling him that she understands, asking him when his mom gets back.

megumi freezes.

the word repeats in his mind, and he finally realizes his slip-up.

sure, he's heard tsumiki call you it before--because for all intents and purposes, that's what you were. after four years of your unconditional love, the two of them knew, truly, that they could depend on you.

but megumi has never had a mom, and he doesn't now.

so it's still gojo's fault when the first tear rolls down his cheek. which megumi promptly wipes away. he's not going to cry--he's not the sort of kid that cries. he prides himself on it, actually. not needing the same sort of attention that he's seen his classmates get, never feeling things that deeply.

but he's crying now, and his neck still hurts as he turns away from his teacher, going to sit down at his desk.

and megumi isn't the type of kid that cries, but when he puts his head down, his cheeks feel a little damp.

megumi's got a headache now--another reason why he doesn't cry--and he sort of wants to curl up in bed until tsumiki gets home, and then convince her to run away with him.

but he doesn't.

when gojo unlocks the door, megumi goes through it without stopping to look around. he drags his backpack to his room--gojo watching the whole time, of course--and closes the door before the man can say anything stupid.

he can't deal with him right now. or ever, actually.

megumi sets his backpack up against the wall with a brief thought about homework and the class he's going to miss because of this, but he doesn't care enough to dwell on it.

everything about him feels stiff, like glue got between the seems of his very core.

he's ten years old. he shouldn't have to worry about anything.

he takes off his blazer, sets it on his desk with sweaty palms, and feels quite naked--even with the layers of clothes and lack of eyes. and his head hurts. megumi wants to get up and restart his day just so he can tell some version of his former self not to be so stupid.

but he knows that's just the guilt talking, so he ignores that too.

and it's only ten minutes into his glooming that there's a knock on the door, and gojo doesn't knock, so megumi knows immediately that something's wrong.

he's lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling, but he leans up on his elbow when you peek your head into the room.

for a brief moment, megumi is so relieved to see you that he almost jumps up and clings to you--like some child would.

he wants to hold onto you and beg you not to leave again, because everything seems to go wrong when you’re not there. he wants to tell you that he’s scared, and that he’s not sure what to do.

but he refrains, and blinks idly, confused about why you're here, and why his heart hurts just from looking at you.

“hey, you okay?” you whisper, taking a step into the dark room. you don't look banged up, and megumi wonders what gojo said to get you to come home. he probably told you that megumi was dying, or something.

you sit on the edge of his bed, and your hand is on his forehead before megumi can blink. “you feel sick?”

megumi nods, but his eyes don’t meet yours. it's a small enough lie.

“i’m sorry. did satoru give you any medicine?”

“did you have to come home for me?”

you smile, slightly. “no, buddy, don’t worry. it was easier than they said, just a grade one. plus i kinda rushed it cause i missed you guys.” you push his hair out of his eyes, “now, medicine?”

“i don’t want any.”

“if you don’t feel good—“

“actually,” he interrupts. “can—i, um, i don’t really want to talk.”

you pause, eyes roaming over his face. “oh. okay. that’s fine.”

you remove your hands from him immediately, walls of metaphorical space flying up between the two of you. “i’ll leave you alone. just ask if you need anything, okay? i’m going to go unpack.”

he nods and you give him a little grin.

and right as you're at the door, he falters. he doesn’t really want you to go. he wants you to crawl into bed with him, treat him like he's actually sick, and let him lay with his head in your lap. he wants to ask you the same question that's been in his head since he said it, but he can't.

“y/n?” he whispers, instead, your name feeling wrong in his mouth.

“yeah?"

“will... will you get gojo?" he asks, even though it's not what he wants to say at all. "i want to talk to him.”

“gojo?” you frown, looking at him. “yeah. of course, yeah. i’ll go get him. one sec.”

and when you close the door, megumi feels like he’s said something wrong. slipped up again.

he sits there and waits, feeling incorrect in his body. he wants you to come back and tell him that it'll all be fine, but he knows that you won't. if there's one thing you're good at, it's respecting boundaries.

and megumi has a lot of them.

gojo doesn’t knock when he comes into the room, and megumi is so lost in thought that he jumps as soon as the door clicks open.

megumi’s neck flies as he looks at him, wide eyes. he's already sat up, preparing himself for an influx of anger.

“is this about your lunch?” gojo asks, immediately, words fast and smooth. “because that wasn’t my fault. i thought your school did that.”

“you bought us our lunchboxes,” megumi argues, “you made me get the weird one with the dragon.”

“do not insult dracomon like that.”

megumi rolls his eyes. “whatever.”

“so, you wanna talk to me, huh?" gojo sits on megumi’s desk chair, legs hanging off the sides. “i think this is the first real conversation we’ve ever had.”

megumi rolls his eyes again.

gojo waves a hand. "alright. what is it?"

megumi pauses. he can't ask gojo. even if he had an answer, it would be the least trustworthy version of one.

he scratches his neck, not sure how to lie about this. knowing that he's not supposed to lie in the first place.

he's doing everything wrong today.

gojo shakes his head, white hair the victim of many fashion crimes. “spit it out, kid. i just did you a huge favor, and i don’t have time for the attitude.”

“you didn’t do anything,” megumi frowns, crossing his arms.

gojo snorts. “you think they just say ‘come get your child’ when you’re crying at your desk?” he asks, rhetorically, and megumi’s face goes still. “no, they disrupted my nap, saying that you needed to be picked up and handed me a card for a child psychologist.”

“they told you?”

he nods. “and i didn’t tell y/n,” he grins, self-satisfied. “so you’re welcome.”

“why not?”

“because she would’ve freaked out, and i don’t need that, and i’m pretty sure you don’t want that…”

megumi nods immediately.

“it can stay our secret if you tell me what’s going on. i’ll edit the report when y/n asks,” then he turns, looking at the door. “even though she’s already listening in.”

“really?” megumi bites the inside of his cheek, checking the crack under the door for feet.

satoru kicks him. “no. she’s in her room. now, talk. i don’t know how long she’ll take.”

megumi swallows. he doesn’t really want to ask—not his only real question—but he’s already gotten this far.

at least it doesn't matter what he says, because no one will believe anything gojo makes up anyway.

“megumi…” gojo prods.

“do you know where my mom is?”

there’s a pause. a very long pause where megumi feels like he’s being scrutinized.

he can tell that gojo is looking at him very closely, a microscope to megumi’s cell, even though he can’t see his eyes.

“i—“ gojo pulls a strand of hair by his ear. clearing his throat. “i, um, im not sure. why?”

“no reason.”

there’s a very weird wince on the man’s face. “do you want to… talk about them? your… parents?”

“no,” megumi says immediately.

gojo sighs. “look, i’ll tell you if you really want to know—“

“i don’t care. i just… i don’t care.”

“…okay.”

“okay.”

the two of them are both lying. they have the same neck-scratching, and looking away tells. if you were in the room, you would be monitoring both of them very harshly. probably scolding them for the look on both of their faces.

gojo’s expression is so much weirder than megumi’s ever seen it. “are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?”

“i just wanted to know if you knew,” megumi says, crossing his arms, then doing it again. “i don’t care about them. they don’t care about me.”

“well, i don’t know that—“

“no. you and y/n took us in and they didn’t care. so why should i?”

“right.” gojo nods. “right we… took you in.”

megumi nods, as a finality, and then deflates a little bit.

he doesn’t care about his mom—whoever she is, wherever she might be. he doesn’t. he just… also doesn’t want to replace her.

it feels wrong to think about. she doesn’t care about his life, so why should he care about hers?

it's a stupid sort of guilt. if tsumiki said anything like it, megumi wouldn't talk to her for a week.

but it's the sort of guilt over you, and a woman he knows nothing about. someone he doesn't really want to know about.

maybe that makes it worse.

“did someone say something at school?”

megumi frowns. “no. why would they?”

gojo shrugs. “kids are jerks,” he answers, simply, and then mutters “i would know…” under his breath, making megumi want to punch him again.

“no one said anything.”

“then why were you crying this morning?”

“i wasn’t crying.”

“hey,” gojo frowns. “crying is fine. it’s good.”

“i know,” megumi crosses his arms.

“okay, then.”

megumi doesn’t even know why he wanted to talk to gojo in the first place.

“look,” gojo sighs, his fingers tapping along the body of the chair. he whispers something that sounds suspiciously like “y/n is so much better at this,” and then meets megumi’s eyes—metaphorically, of course. everyone knows that gojo doesn’t have any eyes. “if you want to talk about your parents, we can talk about them. tsumiki asks questions every once in a while. and…” he breaks away, shaking his head. “if there’s something i don’t know, then i'll—we’ll figure it out. i’ve got eyes everywhere.”

gojo is grinning at his little joke, but megumi’s frown deepens.

"i don't care about them," he says, again, as a reassurance to them both.

"they are your parents, you know?" he holds his hands up in defense, probably from the glare megumi is giving him. "i'm just saying. curiosity is normal."

"how would you know?"

gojo sighs, tilting his head back. he looks almost hurt. "i'm wise. i've got years of experience on you."

"no, you don't."

he shakes his head. "now i'm going to start crying."

megumi stares at him. if he could trade gojo for literally anyone else in the world, he would.

and yet, he doesn't want to talk to you about this. he doesn't want to talk at all. and he does.

at least he knows that gojo won’t take any of this too seriously. that he won’t get to the bottom of the problem, like neither of them wants.

"do you think..." megumi starts, whispering. "do you ever regret taking us in?"

gojo swallows. he looks almost hesitant to answer, but megumi knows that must be wrong. gojo has never hesitated a moment in his life.

"well, you guys are pretty mean to me. but no, we don't regret it. why would we?" he asks, teasing, like always. "children are for chores."

megumi shakes his head.

"you should--" gojo scrunches his nose. "i can get y/n. she's got better answers, anyway."

"no!" megumi holds his hand out when the man begins to move from the chair, heart racing. "i don't want to talk to her."

"did something happen with you guys? you think someone might mention it to me..."

"no, nothing happened. i just... want to talk to you."

gojo snorts, but he sits back down. "whatever you did, i'm sure it's not that bad. remember that time i set tsumiki's hair on fire when she was gone? that was bad."

"i didn’t do anything. i'm not like you," megumi scowls, looking away.

"would you like a reward?" gojo asks, dryly. "most people wouldn't openly admit that. i admire your confidence."

both of them are silent, megumi considering the consequences of just saying the words out loud, nonetheless to gojo--who definitely won't know what to do with them.

after a minute, gojo clears his throat. "okay, megumi. my turn. do you regret coming here with me? instead of going with your family? you'd be clan head someday, you know."

"that place with the freaky shed of weapons you showed me?"

"yup."

"no," megumi doesn't have to think about that. "tsumiki's with me here. and i--"

i like it here, he almost slips. i love you guys.

megumi sighs. he doesn't want to say that to gojo.

but the older man looks like he already knew what he meant, a dumb smile on his face. "good. okay. well, i don't know what's wrong with you," he gives megumi a pointed look, saying that he actually does. "but i'm sure it'll all work out. you've got me here, so there's nothing to worry about. and y/n would kill me if anything happened to you, so. don't worry about your parents, kid."

megumi blinks at him. because his problems can be summed up with a quick "yeah, that's cool."

he rolls his eyes.

gojo's hand nudges his knee. "you can still ask if you want. anytime. we love you, you know? y/n more than me, but still..."

megumi shakes his head. "well i love her more than you."

"good. tsumiki's my favorite anyway."

"good. she's the only one who can deal with you."

"good," gojo retorts, like a child.

he leans in, ruffling megumi's hair as he does it. "even if you are pretty annoying, i'll still do some research for you. see about your mom."

"you don't have to--"

"i can't pick you up every time you're crying in class," gojo shrugs, so simply. definitely a joke in the words, but no teasing. "and i won't tell y/n. but you should talk to her. she worries."

"i know."

gojo smiles. "okay. as long as you know."

the two of them sit there for a while more, gojo making an awful comment every couple of lapses in silence, megumi answering with an equally sarcastic retort, and the two of them not minding at all.

and megumi still can't get the question out--are you his mom?--but there's the undeinable feeling that no one else can answer it for him anyway.

and gojo seems to know that, so he doesn't say anything about it. just lingers there, like an illness, waiting until megumi is okay, or maybe waiting for him to ask something else.

even though megumi doesn’t want to give the man any credit, he knows that gojo understands a lot more than he lets on. and, just from the weird little prideful looks he gives him every time he says something, megumi knows that he probably gets what this is about.

but if gojo isn’t going to say anything, then neither is he.

still, it’s nice to have him here.

there’s no comforting glances, or squeezing of hands with gojo. no acute words and adept gestures.

megumi has never expected gojo to overcome his tendency towards immaturity, or to become something that he’s simply not.

but there is just this. just the man who’s been there for long enough for megumi to notice. to understand that he’s not going away so easily.

and it’s nice to have you both. (megumi won’t admit that the gratitude he has for his makeshift parents is much stronger, more vehement than any worry about biology, or being left behind).

eventually, megumi's eyes begin to droop, and even though his headache is less stress-induced, it's still there, a gentle pounding at his skull.

like a reminder that things are going to change, even if he doesn't want them to. that he's growing up, and he can't protect everyone from his emotions forever.

but megumi doesn't have enough energy to think about it. so he lays down against his pillows, eyelids fluttering open and closed.

and he can just see it when gojo sneaks out of the room, whistling softly as he leaves, purposefully leaving the door open.

megumi should've gone to live with that clan.

"hey," you stand from your chair, looking not at satoru, but behind him, like the essence of their conversation is going to follow him through the door. "what'd he want? is he okay?"

you dance on your feet awkwardly, looking like you were waiting that whole time (you were).

satoru smiles, leaning on the counter to stare at you, at your nervous little lip bite. "he's fine."

"is he feeling really sick? he told me he didn't want any medicine, but if he's got a headache or something, then i could give him a pain reliever. did he seem bad? should we take him to the doctor? i can probably schedule an appointment--"

you're cut off by satoru as he nears you, crushing you against his chest in a hug so tight that it knocks the air from your lungs.

seriously, jujutsu sorcerers and their sheer amount of muscle training are ridiculous.

"satoru--" you squeeze out, but he holds you even tighter.

"it's all good," he says like it's an answer, and he sounds like he knows something that you don't. probably because he does.

but after a moment you relax into him. even if you have to bribe him with cuddles, someone's going to tell you what's going on...

next part | series masterlist

895 notes · View notes

likedovesinthewindd · 1 year

Note

I have a request

So Ash is alive but Fez is in jail

So like Fez and the Reader have been dating for awhile like they're high school sweethearts (even tho he's a drop out) and before he got arrested she got pregnant.

Could you write how that looks. Like phone calls, and letters, and visits, but also write when he gets out and he gets to finally see his kid

hi love! ty for requesting🩷 idk if you wanted a little blurb but you got this big ass fic lmao, sorry i got carried away! also in this custer was never killed at Fez's house so he only got charged with drug possession and given like one or two years because he's a first time offender (i think?) ik it's all over the place but i hope you like it;)

fezco x pregnant!reader

warning: mentions of drugs/drug abuse, murder, jail, pregnancy, throwing up, giving birth, infant care, Fez's dad is mentioned once, religious imagery/mentions of praying, lots of crying.

wc: ± 4530

a/n: this is so similar to my other fez fic but also not at all lol. I tried changing it up as much as possible but there are def a lot of similarities I'm sorry. not proofread!

gif not mine, all credit to original creator.

You and Fez met back when he was still in school, just before he had dropped out. He sat next to you in History and the two of you would only talk briefly, often just about things like what the date was or when the next period would be. He would occasionally crack a joke or make a lighthearted comment that would always catch you off guard.

He was a normally stoic and calm person; he didn't talk much and kept to himself most of the time. This made you appreciate the rare jokes and little bursts of personality even more. You quickly found yourself talking more and more with him, and he'd start greeting you when you passed each other in the hallways. You had considered him somewhat of a friend after a while. Maybe not the closest, but you valued the little time you two would spend together.

Then he started showing up to class less and less, and rumors had begun spreading around. A few weeks before he dropped out, he had asked you if he could copy your notes that he had missed while absent, and you agreed. He told you to drop them off at the convenience store his grandmother owned, because that's where he spent most of his afternoons.

You did this every time he didn't show up to class; you'd write him all the notes neatly and bring them to him at the store, and in return he'd let you take whatever you want from the shelves free of charge. You always took the same thing (a can of Sprite, a packet of Sun Chips and a pack of cherry flavored twizzlers), and after a while he had started keeping the three items at the counter, ready for you to grab when you came around. One day he asked you if you'd like to stay a while before heading home, and you spent your afternoons sitting on the roof of the convenience store eating your treats and talking about whatever came to mind.

You never asked him why he wasn't at school, or even asked yourself why you'd go through all this trouble for him. Maybe it was because you've always been way too nice for your own good, or maybe because you had a little crush on him. One day when you were on your way to give him the day's notes, he'd told you he was dropping out. When you asked why, he only replied with, "Have to take care of my grandma."

You didn't stop visiting him after he left school, and would go to the store every other afternoon, quietly doing your homework by the counter while he restocked the shelves. He never explicitly told you, but he enjoyed having you around. You never asked too many questions and you were always nice to him. He would say maybe too nice to count as just being friendly.

As time passed the two of you grew closer and closer. You had met his brother Ash and occasionally helped him with his grandmother, who you had only met briefly before she became ill, when you were making your rounds to drop of his notes.

A few months later he had asked you out, and you said yes. You haven't looked back since.

That was years ago, and this was now. Now, you were sitting on the lid of the toilet in the dead of night with a pregnancy test clasped tightly in your right hand, while the other covered your mouth in shock. The two red lines stared back at you tauntingly as you felt your head spin with anxiety.

You were pregnant. You were pregnant with Fez's baby and you had no idea how you were going to tell him. You finished up, washing your hands and face and made your way to the bedroom you and your boyfriend shared. You hid the test in the drawer you kept your underwear in and sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for your boyfriend to return home.

He arrived eventually, but you couldn't find the strength in you to tell him. You knew you had to eventually, you couldn't possibly keep this a secret for too long, but you were terrified. You had no idea what his reaction would be, and you feared the worst.

The night you finally did get the courage to tell him, was the same night he decided to almost kill Nate at a New Year's Eve Party. Your plan had been derailed once again and that night you found yourself sitting in the bathroom while you silently cleaned the cuts on his hands. You knew you couldn't tell him then, he was still on edge and filled with adrenaline from everything that had transpired. He was definitely not in the correct headspace for a revelation like that.

Everything after that night was an absolutely downward spiral.

With Faye moving in, Mouse getting killed in your house and ultimately Fez getting arrested after Custer had ratted him out, you found yourself at your wits end. He had been arrested and taken away right before your eyes, and you felt completely helpless as you watched him get dragged out of the now ruined house, with a distraught Ash clinging to you like a lifeline.

☆˚｡⋆

Fez was only given three years for drug possession with the intent to sell, considering he was a first-time offender. Three years may not have been much considering it could have been a much heavier sentence, but your stomach still churned at the thought that he would be away for that long. What about Ash and Marie? What about the store?

What about the baby?

You couldn't do this. It felt like the world was suddenly dropped on your shoulders as you watched the officers drag Fez out the court, and away from you.

You shot up from the uncomfy wooden bench and made your way to the closest bathroom, where you threw up the little food you managed to keep down this morning. When you finished you flushed the toilet and made your way to the sink to clean up. As you stared at your reflection in the dirty mirror, everything struck you at once like cold water being thrown in your face.

You were going to be alone. Alone and pregnant, having to look after Ash (who God willing, they don't take away from you) and his grandmother. You hadn't even realized you were crying until your reflection became blurry and your breathing erratic.

You went back home that evening, with a dreadful feeling deep in the pit of your stomach for what the future holds.

☆˚｡⋆

Fez had finally been approved for calls, and after not hearing anything from him in weeks you were ecstatic to finally hear his voice.

You had received a call from the jail where he was, following all the necessary steps and pressing all the necessary buttons before you got to talk with him. When you heard his voice say your name you had to stop yourself from breaking down right beside the telephone. It hadn't even been a month and you already missed him more than words could describe.

He said your name again in a questioning tone and you realized that you hadn't said anything in return.

"Fez?" was all you could force from wobbly lips as your grip on the phone tightened. "Yeah baby, it's me," he said quietly. "I miss you," you said trying your hardest not to sob. Gosh, you couldn't even think about asking him how he was doing, you just wanted him to know how much you needed him right now.

"I miss you too baby, so fucking much," he replied, "how are things going that side?" You inhaled sharply before answering. "I don't know," you answered truthfully, "I'm still trying to figure everything out right now. But okay I guess."

He hummed. "What about Ashtray, he around? Can I talk to him?" he asked. "Of course," you said before calling out to Ash, who was over the moon when he finally got to speak to his brother after so long. You saw him smile for the first time in months, and you were overjoyed at the sight.

When they were finished catching up he handed you the phone. "You still there?" you asked. "Yeah baby, but I only got like a minute left. Listen I'll call you back as soon as I can again okay?" he said. "Okay, goodnight. I love you so muh, Fez," you rushed out. "I love you too baby, so mu—"

He was cut off by the ending call and you placed the receiver of the telephone back on the wall.

☆˚｡⋆

You didn't know how to tell Fez you were pregnant over the phone, so you settled with writing him a letter. You told him how you were pregnant, and that you were planning on keeping the baby. A part of you already knew you were keeping the baby the moment you stared at the test in your hand. The thought of being pregnant now absolutely terrified you, but recently you had found yourself fantasizing about what the little one would look like.

Would it be a little girl or a boy? Would she have your nose, or your eyes? What would her soft hair feel like under your fingertips? What would her first word be?

You hadn't even realized you were already referring to the baby as "she". That was what made you realize you were already deadset on keeping the baby, whether Fez wanted to be apart of that or not, even though it pained you to think that way.

You nervously sealed the letter and sent it off, hoping for the best. Fez had called you the same day he received the letter.

"Hi Fez," you answered nervously.

"You bein' serious Y/N?" You knew exactly what he was referring to, so you took a deep breath before answering him. "Yes, I'm being serious," you said quietly. You could hear him sigh and curse under his breath before he spoke up louder. "How long you known?"

"From before the raid. But, before you say anything, I did want to tell you on New Years, but that shit with Nate happened and everything after that was a total shitshow," you breathed, "I'm sorry for not telling you earlier."

"Shit, it's alright ma I ain't mad, jus' a bit shocked," was all he said. There was a short silence between the two of you before he spoke up again. "I'm gonna be a dad?" he asked softly. "Yeah..." you said, waiting for anything to indicate how he felt about this. "I'm so sorry I can't be there wit' you for this," he said. That broke your heart. He wanted to there, wanted to be a father and the thought made your heart fill with joy.

"It's okay, we can't help the circumstances," you said. "Listen, I promise you imma be here wit you every step of the way, okay? Maybe not physically, but I want you to keep me updated on everthing alright?" he said. "Okay, I promise I will," you breathed, a smile stretching across your face. "Imma do right by you, baby, I promise. You ain't doin' this on your own."

You were sure your heart was going to explode. You were going to have a baby with Fez. The circumstances were the farthest from ideal, but you were hopeful that you were going to be able to do this. You were going to do this. For yourself, for Fez and Ash and for your baby.

☆˚｡⋆

The pregnancy was anything but easy, and it was even harder without Fez by your side. It helped that he showed his support in any way he could, like always calling and sending letters, checking up on you to stay updated with the condition of your baby. You were roughly at 3 or 4 months and by now the little bump was already visible.

Telling Ash was one of the things you were the most nervous about. You didn't know how he'd feel about a baby being bought into your living situation. You had sat him down and got straight to the point. When the words first left your mouth, his face twisted into an unreadable expression. He seemed to be mulling it over silently, before a small smile stretched across your face and he replied shyly with, "So I'm gonna like, be an uncle?"

☆˚｡⋆

The letters you frequently wrote Fez were on of the only things he looked forward to. He loved reading them, reading about how you were doing and everything that was happening with your body and with the baby growing inside you. It sometimes fet like he got to experience the pregnancy right there beside you, with the way he could clearly indicate your mood swings even in your writing.

The letter would quickly go from I saw an old couple sitting by the old park benches today and I broke down in tears to The guy at the drive-thru told me I couldn't order 'just pickels'. Imagine saying no to a starving pregnant lady!

When he received the letter with a small black and white attached to it, he nearly cried. The little ultrasound picture didn't look like much, you could barely make out the big white blob in the middle as a baby, an actual human being. He turned the picture around and saw that you had written our baby! in your messy handwriting, with a little heart at the end. That was all he needed to actually start crying.

That night he couldn't fall asleep at all. His mind was filled with a million thoughts that were consuming him. What if something happens to her or the baby while I'm in here? Will she be able to cope on her own? What's she gonna do once the baby is born?

What if I'm not a good father?

That's what was eating at him more than anything else. He didn't want to be like his own father, and his worst fear was eventually ending up like him, no matter how hard he tried not to. He didn't want his kid to hate him, he wanted to be the best dad he could be, because he already knew that you were going to be the absolutely best mother any child could ask for. He knew because he saw the way you cared for Ash, like he was your own little brother. He also knew that you had a big heart. When you loved, you loved with everything in you, so he didn't have an inkling of doubt about you being a good mother.

That was the night he had promised himself that he would be the best father that he could be for your child and that he'd give them the love and support he never received from his dad.

☆˚｡⋆

By now you had finally been approved for your first visit, and you were over the moon. The first time you visited you went alone, and when Fez saw you walking into the cold room, a slight waddle to your step and a cute little bump sticking out from your pretty pink sundress and cardigan, he swears he had fell in love with you all over again. You looked so beautiful, he thought, maybe more beautiful than you've ever been.

Maybe it was the pregnancy glow people would always refer to, or maybe it was the fact that he hadn't seen you in months, but he couldn't get the dopey smile off his face as you made your way to the table where he sat.

You were permitted to a brief embrace and kiss at the beginning and end of each visit, and when he wrapped his arms around you for the first time in months, and got to inhale the smell of your almost unfamiliar perfume, he didn't ever want to let you go ever again. His grip on you tightened a little bit and you had to will away the tears threatening to spill over your cheeks when you felt his warmth consume your body. It felt like home being back in his strong arms.

"You're gonna squish the baby," you said playfully, placing a kiss on his shirt over his heart. You honestly didn't mind at all; you'd let him hold you like this forever if you could. You eventually broke away when you saw the guard giving you a unhappy look from the corner of your eye. You sat down on the cold metal bench and he found his seat accross from you.

You so badly wanted to hold his hand while you talked to him. You wanted to sit next to him and feel the warmth of his body radiating off him and bury your face into his neck and hold onto him for dear life, but you couldn't.

"Y'know if it's a boy or a girl yet?" he asked. You absent-mindedly tapped your manicured nails against the metal table that separated you two, until the guard had given you a stern look from behind Fez, by now irritated by the repetitive sound. You retracted your hands, placing them in your lap and shaking your head. "No, I'm finding out at the next appointment," you smiled, "do you still have the photos I sent you?"

You were referring to the ultrasound photos as you had sent him in letters from all your appointments. "Of course I do," he smiled, "keep 'em in my cell, under my pillow." You smiled, looking down at your belly and softly running your hand over it.

"I think it's gonna be a girl," you said softly, as if it was some secret only the two of you had the right to know. "Nah, it's a boy," he replied and you rolled your eyes playfully, which made him laugh. "Of course you think it's a boy," you joked. He shrugged "I'm still gonna love 'em whether they a boy or a girl," he said, before adding, "but it's gonna be a boy."

You rolled your eyes at him once again, this time more dramatically, and rubbed at your belly. "I just know it's going to be a little girl," you said, and when you looked up from your belly your eyes met Fez's. They were filled with an immeasurable amount of admiration and love, and you couldn't help but shy away from the attention.

"If it's a girl, I hope she look like you."

☆˚｡⋆

The last few weeks of your pregnancy you had asked your mother to stay with you until it was time to go and give birth. By now your belly was fully formed and perfectly rounded, and you were waddling around the house like a lost penguin. Everything was hurting, from your feet to your back and pregnancy brain was truly kicking your ass. As much as you loved the beauty of pregnancy, you couldn't wait to finally get this over with.

You were on the phone with Fez when you had first felt it, the liquid running down your legs followed by a slight cramp in your abdomen. At first you were scared that you had peed yourself (your bladder had been your number one enemy recently) but it didn't take long to realize what was happening.

Without even sparing Fez another word you hung up and called for your mother. This was it, you were finally going meet your baby.

Ash was shitting bricks as he paced around the house while you and your mother gathered everything to head to the hospital. Soon enough you found yourself in the hospital, with your arms leaning on the bed trying to control your breathing. The pain felt like nothing you've ever felt before, and at some point you thought you were going to pass out.

A little while later and you had started to dilate. After what felt like a lifetime of mindless pushing and incoherent shouts, the screaming of your baby girl filled your ears. You looked next to you, to your mother who was still holding onto your hand tightly while her other hand pushed the hair out of your sweaty face. You were beyond grateful to have her with you, but your heart yearned to have Fez with you for this moment. When you got to hold your baby in your arms you cried like a crazy person. She was so beautiful, and your heart was already filled with abundant love for her.

☆˚｡⋆

You've had baby Eden at home for almost two weeks, when you finally got a call from Fez.

"How'd it go baby? Is she healthy? Are you okay?" he had asked as soon as he heard your voice greeting him. You pressed the phone tighter between your ear and your shoulder. "She's as healthy as can be, and she's beautiful, Fez," you said happily, as you rocked the baby in your arms to sleep. "You gonna send me a picture of her?" he asked.

"I already have a few taken, I just have to get them printed then I'll send them to you," you smiled, "she's so beautiful, Fez." You knew it was a little biased, but she truly was the most beautiful baby you'd ever seen. Her pretty long eyelashes that rested on her chubby cheeks and the pretty pink lips that would sometimes streatch into a toothless smile, or her cute button nose that would scrunch up when she yawned or sneezed. Everything about her was so absolutely perfect.

"I can't wait to see yall ma," he whispered. You could hear the slight sadness in his voice. "Me neither," you replied with a sad smile.

☆˚｡⋆

He had no doubt when you told him that Eden was a beautiful baby, but when Fez got to see a picture of her for the first time, all the air was knocked out his lungs.

That was his baby. His baby girl, wrapped tightly in a fluffy pink blanket and a little cap to match. He couldn't stop looking at the picture, his thoughts going at a hundred miles per hour. Fez hadn't seen a lot of babies in his life, but he was one thousand percent certain that Eden was the most beautiful baby he'd ever layed his cynical eyes on.

He couldn't remember the last time he prayed, but that night Fez found himself closing his eyes and praying. He prayed that you and your baby were kept safe, he prayed that his baby girl would stay healthy and happy, and he prayed for the patience to diligently serve his sentence, counting down the days till he got to hold you both.

☆˚｡⋆

You sat in shock as you read the contents of the letter over and over and over.

Fez was going to be released from jail earlier for good behavior. He was coming home, to you, to Ash and his friends and to his baby. He was going to meet his daughter.

Ever since giving birth you hadn't brought Eden along with you when visiting Fez. She was still very young, and you didn't want her driving the long distances back and forth. This unfortunately meant that Fez hadn't got to meet his daughter yet. That was changing soon though.

☆˚｡⋆

You were pacing back and forth in the house, waiting for Fez to come knocking at your door. Today was the day Fez was coming home, back to his family, back to you.

He had to go through several release preparations, then pre-release custody and then supervision. After he complete those steps he had a full release from the BOP system, and they arranged transportation for him to come back home.

He had asked you to not tell anyone about him coming home, he didn't want people bothering him and wanted to spend his first night in just the company of the people he loved the most. You had kept to your word and not told a soul, not even Ash, who you knew would soon be jumping out of his skin when he gets to see his brother.

You had Eden in your arms, gently rocking her back and forth to soothe her. She was a little cranky because she didn't get her afternoon nap in, and when she finally dozed off, you went to go place her in the small crib next to your bed.

You shifted your weight from one foot to the other nervously, before checking that everything was good. The food was cooked, the house cleaned and the bed covered in clean sheets.

The hard knock on the door almost made you drop the pie you had taken out of the oven. It was custard pie, his favorite. You removed your oven mits and sprinted to the door.

When you opened it, there stood Fez with a small smile on his face. You immediately wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him as close to you as possible. He was here. He was back home with you finally and you got to hold him for as long as your heart desired.

By now you were sobbing into his neck, beyond relieved and happy to finally have him home. When you broke away he looked down at you, tears in his own eyes.

"Hi," he breathed. "Hi," you replied through a half sob half laugh. "You're home." "I'm home."

Ash had cried when he saw his brother standing in the living room awkwardly, and wrapped his arms around him tightly, almost as if he was scared of losing him once again. Once everyone had settled down somewhat, you decided to ask Fez the big question.

"Do you wanna see her?"

☆˚｡⋆

The room was dead silent as you pushed open the door and made your way inside, Fez following soon after. You could see the anxiety written on his face, evident in the slight tremble of his hands. This was a very big deal to him. He was going to meet his daughter for the very first time.

You made your way over to the crib, standing next to it and urging him to do the same. He warily moved closer to the crib, looked over the edge and down to where the little girl layed peacefully assleep. He could see the small rise and fall of her chest as she breath rhythmically, and the way her two small fists layed clenched tightly next to her body. If he listened closely enough he could hear her breathing, and the soft cooing sounds in between.

"She's beautiful isn't she?" you asked quietly, and he only nodded, not once lifting his gaze. "Would you like to hold her?" This made him look up at you. A part of him wanted to say no. He didn't want to hold something as precious as her in his hands. Hands that have done shameful and awful things, much too tainted to handle something as fragile and irreplaceable as her.

"It's okay, Fez," you said, sensing his hesitation, before reaching into the crib to pick her up gently. When she was secured in your grasp, you turned your body to him and he hesitantly reached out to take her from you.

Once she was in his arms the small tears began to fall from his eyes. You rubbed his back comfortingly as you watched him closely.

Nothing that Fez had ever achieved in his life measured even closely to this moment. No amount of money or fortune would make him trade this. This was it. This was him, being home and being able to be with you, with his family.

His grandmother had taught him the importance of family and looking out for each other. She taught him that the family he'd have would be the people he was willing to die for, and as he stood in the quiet room, his daughter in his arms and you by his side, he knew that he had found his family.

He looked over to you, and when his eyes met yours he saw the contented look on your face, behind all the happy tears.

"She looks like you," he smiled.

#fezco euphoria #fezco x reader #fezco x y/n #fezco x you #fez x reader #fez euphoria #fezco fluff #fezco fanfic #euphoria x reader #euphoria fic #likedovesinthewindd

2K notes · View notes

piccolos-bigtoe · 5 months

Text

Oouugghhh, gueess who finished their homework assiignment…. This guy!!! Smiles big with too many teeth I am normal. I do not regret all the time I spent (I may spend more time to fix a fewwww small details….) I am so ready for the summer oh my balls………. I still have a few projects and papers to wrap up here for classes, I will pull through,,, probably…. It’s been tough ngl I feel like I JUST fell into the swing of things and now it’s ova, but that’s okay I’ll adapt

I swear to god every single one of my classmates better give me a standing ovation and kiss me on my beautiful beautiful lips when I present this in critique. I swear to god………. There better be crying…. Kidding I’m not that full of myself but I’m excited to hear what my graphics prof will say teehee…. I will probably print a physical copy of this (whether or not it will be good quality paper idk).

Also I got my portrait taken today on a silver wet plate (iirc), suuupperrr old form of photography. An artist traveled to my school and held a gallery + talk yesterday and I enjoyed it very much, I typically don’t go up on Fridays because I don’t have classes but I went with a friend to get out portraits taken and then watched the washout process of the plates!! Photography is crazy I don’t understand it. The only thing I’m kind of like dissapointed by is I’m typically not bothered by my skin or acne, but this type of photograph catches stuff SUPER WELL, like it’s kind of crazy, my friend doesn’t really have prominent freckles but on the photo they look way darker than usual. Same thing happened with my dry skin and acne, I don’t mind it too bad, but I was caught off guard a little bit to be honest lol. (Picture below w/my face cut off obviously…. I just wanted to show off my dress because it’s my prized Gunne Sax dress and like the only dress I will actually wear). Me and my two friends were the only ones who dressed up?? No one else did, which was kind of surprising, because this type of photo is rare to get just cause no one really takes them anymore or gets the equipment for it. Okay I’m done rambling tbh I am just procrastinating sleeping,, augh whatever goodnight…. I always post before I sleep…

#tf2 #my art #team fortress 2 #tf2 fanart #tf2 scout #I think I’m goung to vomit

415 notes · View notes

munson-blurbs · 3 months

Text

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

Summary: Eddie gets a not-so-sweet surprise when Hendrix takes some song lyrics a bit too literally.

TW: the briefest allusion to smut (referencing chapter 1), minor spousal conflict

WC: 1.5k

A/N: Based on an idea given to me by none other than @corroded-hellfire 💚 y'all wanted more of Hendrix, so here he is!

April 2003

The sedan rattles along the winding road to Forest Hills Trailer Park, pebbles crunching beneath the tires. Sunday nights meant dinner at Wayne’s, a tradition that you and Eddie both vowed to keep as long as possible.

A familiar intro trills over the car’s radio. Eddie’s eyes leave the road for a brief second to meet yours.

Step inside Walk this way You and me babe Hey hey!

“Our song, Sweetheart.” Your husband grins, right hand slipping from the steering wheel to crank the volume louder. He sings along, just as animated as he was that first night at The Hideout.

Love is like a bomb, baby, c'mon get it on Livin' like a lover with a radar phone Lookin' like a tramp, like a video vamp Demolition woman, can I be your man?

“Dad, what the heck?” Harris grumbles from the backseat. At eleven years old, he flips between adoration and annoyance with astounding speed.

“Yeah, what the heck?” Hendrix echoes his brother, though his smile is a far cry from Harris’s exasperated eye roll.

Eddie relents, twisting the knob just enough to be heard over Joe Elliott’s vocals.

“This is the song I sang that had Mom falling in love with me.” There’s a teasing glimmer in his eyes, daring you to disagree with him.

You eagerly take the bait.

“Love is a strong word,” you counter. The night you and Eddie met was steeped in memories of longing and lust, of giving into your desires in what was supposed to be a fling.

A fling that’s been happening for nearly seven years and counting.

Eddie sits forward suddenly, snapping the volume knob so Def Leppard once again reverberates through the car. “Wait…this is the best part!” He yells back to his sons, taking an extended pause at a stop sign to headbang.

Pour some sugar on me Ooh, in the name of love Pour some sugar on me C'mon, fire me up Pour your sugar on me I can't get enough

He leans in, smushing his lips against your cheek, as he sings along.

I’m hot, sticky sweet From my head to my feet, yeah!

You playfully shove him away, giggles betraying the irritated exterior you’re trying to uphold.

From the backseat, Hendrix pipes up. “What does that mean?”

Without missing a beat, Harris instigates further. “Yeah, Dad. What does this song mean?”

Damn pre-teens. If there’s no trouble to be found, they’ll make some.

Eddie swears under his breath, cheeks flushing red as he tries to find a response suitable for his three-year-old. “Well, um, he’s just…” he falters, any and all explanations fleeing his head. He improvises song lyrics on the fly when he forgets the real ones on stage, but now his brain short-circuits? Convenient.

Luckily, you’re used to fielding questions from little kids; one of the benefits of teaching preschool. “He wants to be extra sweet so a girl loves him.”

“So he pours sugar on himself?” Hendrix’s nose wrinkles in adorable confusion.

“Yup.” Easier to confirm your son’s own ideas than to come up with an alternative. Leaning back against the headrest, you force out a giggle. “Pretty silly, huh?”

The subject is swiftly dropped as Eddie pulls the car in front of his uncle’s trailer, Wayne already standing at the door and announcing that the pizza was on the table and ready to be eaten. “Delivered hot to the door, just like they promised,” he said, repeating the Surfer Boy slogan.

It isn’t until dinner has been eaten, the conversation naturally dwindling, that trouble begins to arise.

“Har, I wanna look over your homework when we get back,” you say, crumpling up your sauce-stained napkin and placing it on your empty plate. Your eyes narrow when you clock the uneasy glance that your oldest son shares with his father. “You did finish your homework, right?”

Harris tries and fails to hide behind his messy mop of curls. “Not exactly,” he mutters. His uneaten crust is suddenly of incredible interest. “I was gonna do it today, but, um…”

“But what?” Your impatience is directed both at him and Eddie, the other alleged adult in the house, who was home with Harris while you took Hendrix to a playdate.

“Well, okay, the plan was for him to do his homework,” Eddie begins, choosing his words carefully. Too carefully, like he’s trying to hide something. “But then Jeff called and told me about this tournament at the arcade; like, all of the old-school stuff we played as kids. I told Harris he could go if he promised to finish his work after, but then time got away from me—”

You grit your teeth, all-too aware of your audience present. The last thing you need is for your temper to unravel in front of Wayne and the boys. “So Harris’s homework isn’t done because…” You take a deep breath before continuing. “…because you wanted to go to the arcade?”

Wayne mumbles a barely audible “hoo, boy” as he clears the snack table.

“I’m sorry, all right?” Eddie shakes his head. “I lost track of time, but he’s gonna get it done. It’s just, what, some math and science stuff?”

“And social studies,” Harris admits.

Eddie’s face blanches. “Okay, so…just three things.”

Except it’s not that simple. Harris needs to take breaks to keep himself motivated and prevent frustration. He needs to reread and revise because he has trouble attending to all of the details at once. And now that he’s older, his know-it-all approach only makes homework time more challenging—for him and for you and Eddie.

“Looks like he’ll be up until God-knows what time, then,” you shoot back. “And you can be the one up with him.”

“I said I’m s—what the hell?” Eddie leaps up, nearly falling over his feet in the process. A mountain of grainy white substance falls from his lap, into the futon’s crevices and onto the floor.

Hendrix stands beside him, an upside-down—and now empty—bag of granulated sugar in his pudgy hands. His big eyes dart between you and Eddie, anticipating your reactions.

“Hendrix,” Eddie says through a deep breath, channeling every ounce of remaining patience. Harris cackling doesn’t help, either. “Why did you do that?”

Your youngest son shakes the bag a few extra times for good measure. “Putting sugar on you so Mommy likes you. Like in the song.”

Shocked into stillness, Wayne speaks up. “What song made you dump all of my sugar on your dad?”

Hendrix beams as he belts out, “POUR SOME SUGAR ON MEEEEEE! STICKY SWEET!” He turns to you triumphantly. “Do you like Daddy now?”

You tuck your lips into your mouth to keep from bursting into laughter. Logically, you know that you can’t reinforce this behavior, even if it was done with good intentions.

But it’s also really funny.

“I like Daddy even when he’s not covered in sugar,” you say. “I love him a lot, and us having a little argument doesn’t change that.”

“But the song…” Hendrix furrows his brows.

You breathe out a sigh. “Sometimes, people say things in songs that we don’t do in real life. Like when people beat each other up on TV or in movies. It’s fun to watch, but we aren’t actually going to do it.”

The boy pouts. “So do I gotta say sorry?”

“Yes,” you tell him, “to Daddy for pouring the sugar on him, and to Grampa Wayne for wasting his sugar.”

“Sorry, Daddy. Sorry, Grampa Wayne,” he says softly. “I didn’t know the song wasn’t for real.”

Wayne grins. “S’okay, kiddo. I’ll just drink my coffee black for a while.”

Eddie’s positioned over the kitchen sink as he brushes the rest of the granules off of his shirt. “I think we need a hard-and-fast rule that we don’t copy any of the things we hear in songs.”

“Agreed.” You start towards the tiny closet where Wayne keeps the vacuum, adjusting the hose so it can suck up the sugar embedded into the futon’s mattress. When that’s done, you grab the broom. “Now, Hen, you’re gonna hold the dustpan while I sweep the floor.”

“But—” he starts to argue, but a raise of your eyebrows silences him. “Okay…”

Eddie takes the broom from you, a tight smile on his face. “Guess I kinda deserved that, huh?” He murmured.

“Didn’t wanna say it out loud, but…yeah.”

“I really am sorry.” He sweeps the sugar into Hendrix’s waiting pan. “It was a real dumb move on my part.”

You kiss his cheek. “I know you’re sorry. And I forgive you, you stupid, stupid man.”

“Good.” He grins wickedly. “I’d hate to have to pour more sugar on myself to win back your affections.”

You roll your eyes. “Just keep sweeping, and then we can talk about my affections.”

“Yes, dear.”

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #tui

328 notes · View notes

luvfy0dor · 10 months

Note

RRRRAAAAAH i’m so insane abt dad fyodor i’m!!!!! imagine him helping the kid with schoolwork and attending parent meetings i’m so? feel free to decline! <3

“Multiplication Sucks ♡” - Dad!Fyodor Dostoevsky x GN!Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚

Warnings; None!

Description; Fyodor helping his daughter with her homework assignment, I'm so sorry it's so short : [ I tried writing a scenario for a parent teacher meeting but I kept scrapping my ideas, ill do a part two at some point i promise!

A/n; I LOVE THAT WE ALL LOVE DAD FYODOR SM DJSJEJS THANK YOU DAD!FYODOR ANON FOR BLESSING US WITH THIS WE LOVE YOU 💜 ALSO IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO GET OUT ANON AHHH 💔

Headcannons !! ༊*·˚

• Fyodor is the type of dad to let his kid waste no time when it comes to homework. He wants them to get it done the very night it's assigned so they can relax afterwards and not gain the habit of procrastinating.

• You will catch him walking your kid step by step through their homework. He's not the type of parent to yell out of frustration, especially not over his kids homework.

• He can help the child with most subjects, but he's especially good at math and therefore some sciences. He's good with history, too.

• At one-on-one parent teacher meetings, he already knows what to expect. He knows his kid is well behaved, he raised them well mannered and respectful. He also knows that his kid is smart and does well on their assignments, they get it from their papa.

ೃ⁀➷

(As always, d/n is daughters name, p/t is parental title)

You sat on the couch with Fyodor, leaning on his shoulder while you watched a movie. He seemed relatively intrigued while he chewed on his fingernails. His hair was messily pulled back, his bangs falling through the grip of the ponytail holder and back into his face. His free arm was around your waist, holding you close. Your daughter was being relatively quiet, you couldn't really hear her footsteps going back and forth around her bedroom like you usually could. All of a sudden though, you could hear some frustrated groans. Fyodor definitely heard it too, turning his head to look at you. After a second he got up from the couch and walked towards d/n's room.

He knocked on your daughter's door lightly, opening it upon hearing a soft "come in". He walked into her bedroom, his eyes immediately falling onto the young girl slouched over at her desk with a pencil in hand. He tilts his head and notices the sheet of paper in front of her, half finished with lots of scribbled out things.

"What's wrong, Malyshka?" He asks, reaching out and rubbing her back in consolation. The young girl sits up with a pout, her lip quivering a bit. "Multiplying is stupid!" She says sadly, placing her pencil down gently and crossing her arms. Fyodor picks up and examines the paper, humming as he reads over the simple and basic multiplication problems. "Well, I can help you. There's no need to cry over it." He says, petting her head gently and putting the paper back down. "Is it this one that's troubling you?" He asks, pointing to one of the problems with the pencil. She nods, sniffling.

"16 x 2..." He hums for a moment, thinking of a way to explain this to her. "If you can do 6 x 2 and 10 x 2, all you have to do is add them together." He says, handing the pencil to her. "You're a smart girl, I know you can do it." He says, remaining at her side while she uses the strategy he provided her. Her tongue slightly pokes from the corner of her lips as she comes to her conclusion of 32 after a couple of seconds.

"Is that right, papa?" D/n asks, looking up at Fyodor for approval. "Yes, you did a good job." He praises her with a proud smile, patting her head. She nods and moves onto the next question, and before she knows it, she's done! Fyodor was happy that she didn't give up and powered through, finally starting to grasp the concept. All she needed was a little more help, the help that her father was right there to give her.

A/n; AHHHH I love dad Fyodor sm like imagine him going to father-daughter dances omg I die

475 notes · View notes

gimmeyourlovepls · 4 months

Note

Hiii idk if your requests are full or not, but if you're free can you write Miles Morales, where he was in love with the reader since they were kids, and now they're in their teens, but he doesn't know if she feels the same?

Doesn't matter which one, thanks! (⁠｡⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠｡⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠♡

Spider Senses

summary: miles wishes his spider senses showed him whether you liked him or not

a/n: i hope u like this :)) (p.s. my requests are very empty pls fill)

content warning: female reader, but it doesnt really affect the plot, hair described to smell like vanilla and cocoa butter, no texture described though, reader shown to wear makeup

a six year old was playing in the sandbox at a local playground, building a sandcastle. she giggled as she placed a small stick on the top of her sandcastle before some kids running as they played a game ran towards her. she managed to not get trampled by them, but her structure was ruin. tears started running down her cheeks.

"hey, are you ok?" a small child stood before her, his wide brown eyes staring down in concern. he had coily dark hair, and was holding a wrapped popsicle in his hand.

"my sandcastle..." she sputtered out, wiping her tears. it took her a while and she was disappointed that it was destroyed after all her hard work.

"don't cry! my mommy says that crying is bad, it gives you wrinkles," he spoke, looking around for a solution. "here! take my popsicle, and stop being sad, ok? you can't be all wrinkly!" handing her the package in her sandy little hands, her tears almost immediately stopped.

"yay! you're my friend now, come meet my mommy!" standing up on tiny legs, shaking so some sand falls off her already dirty dress, she took his hand and started walking to her mom, who was already staring at the scene with a smile, along with the boys mom, who was exchanging phone numbers with her for future playdates.

"mommy, this is my new friend!" letting go of his hand, she presented him to her mom, smiling brightly as the boy looked up at her with a nervous smile.

"aw, thats nice baby, do you know his name?" the mother asked, looking down at him with a kind smile.

the girl paused. did he ever tell her his name? "duh mommy, his name is..." she looked at the boy, whispering into his ear, "whats your name?" He whispered back to her, the two mothers laughing at the sight. "his name is miles, mommy! he gave me a popsicle!"

the mother glanced at miles. "well nice to meet you honey. i'm this little chipmunk's mom." she ticked the little girl gently as the child squirmed, giggling.

"mom, I'm not a chipmunk!" she pouted, looking up at the amused woman. "i'm a big girl now," she muttered, not wanting to be embarrassed in front of her new friend.

"i'm sorry honey, you're a big girl," her mom said, laughing softly. miles grabbed the girl's hand before pointing at the playground, where there was an empty pair of swings.

"look! the swings are free, lets go swing!" the duo ran through the woodchips towards the swings before they were taken, and luckily they made it before anyone else did.

as they started swinging, the girl opened the slightly melted popsicle, and gasped as she saw it was one of those double ones. with the most precision a six year old can muster, she split the popsicle and handed one side to him with a grin. "now we can share!"

the two mothers looked at the kids with a smile. they could tell this friendship was gonna be a good one.

---

flopping onto miles' bed, you take out your phone and show him a picture. "can we please go here miles? look how cute the food is!" on your phone screen, you were showing him picture after picture of a little cafe that opened not too far from his place.

"i dunno, the food looks cute for sure," he mutters, and you perk up. "but money..." you deflate immediately.

"c'mon, please? you know I get paid from ganke next week for helping him with homework, i'll pay you back!" staring at him with puppy dog eyes always broke down his (very small) defenses he held up against you. this little, ok well, not that little crush he held on you was making him basically silly puddy in your hands.

"you ain't gotta do that, i'll pay sunflower," he mumbles, sitting up. Seeing the smile that immediately lights up your face makes it worth the fact that those new markers and jordans he was saving up for would probably have to wait another month (or maybe two, since your birthday was coming up soon).

glancing at his floor as he looked for his shoes, he saw a drawing he had made of you about a week ago. he wasn't biased, but he thought it was one of his best works. you, surrounded in sunflowers and a smile shining from your face, he knew he was done for.

he was a broke boy in love.

---

you sat in front of miles, grabbing what looked like a torture device with a grin as you held his face still with one hand. "miles, hold still!"

"no, this is gonna kill me!"

you pouted, shifting closer to him. "its just my eyelash curler, now hold still!" you held it closer to his face as winced, trying to stay as still as possible. "there, almost done, last is the lips!"

as you scrambled to go get your lip gloss and lip liner, he wondered why he hadn't confessed yet. it was almost the 10 year anniversary of that playground meeting, and he swore he would tell you a year ago, but then again, he also said that the year before that one.

he looked down at the breakfast on his wrist, the black and red a perfect setting for the silver spider charm that sat perfectly in the middle. although you have (hopefully) not learned about secret alter ego, you said it fit his "vibe."

he just took your word for it with a nervous smile.

you came back with new supplies to decorate his face with, and as he saw the smile on your face, he swore he would tell you soon.

....maybe.

---

you hugged him tightly as you stood at the front door of his house, about to walk home. your hair smelled like vanilla and cocoa butter, and he wanted to bury his face into you (but in a non-creepy way, or course).

it was close to the last day of high school, and you and him were going separate ways, he wanted to go to one uni, and it wasn't the one for you. he was gonna miss your late night talks on the roof, splitting meat patties every friday, the way you dragged your fingers through his hair gently as you rambled about anything and everything.

he still hadn't told you he was spider-man, but now definitely wasn't the time. looking down at the well-worn bracelet on his wrist, he didn't know if he would even get around to it. maybe when he came to visit you?

kicking rocks on the sidewalk distracted him on his walk back home distracted him from his thoughts until-

bang!

he heard a clash of screams and destruction as he spun around to see a cloud of dust in the direction he just left from. whats going on?

thankful for the amount of alleyways in this side of town, he slipped off his normal clothes to reveal his suit and swung over buildings to assess before diving straight in, from his experience, not doing that normally led to a longer talk with the police.

ugh, some stupid new villain of the week. easy stuff. swing in, save citizens, then knock them out. as he webbed people out of the way, he spotted the one person he didn't want to be in the chaos.

"sunflower?" he gasped, and immediately as your face snapped to him, he knew he messed up. he'd play that off later, but for now, he had to act. quickly scooping you up in his arms, he dropped you on a roof of a building, quickly deepening his voice. "c-citizen, stay up here, ill... come back and get you, just-"

you grabbed his wrist with a stern look on your face. "you better not leave me up here, miles." he nodded quickly before running to go fight off the latest villain, who was apparently mad because the "love of her life" left her for university. 'join the club...' he thought before he dived down.

---

as he handed the lady to the police, he thought back to you on the roof, and your words.

'you better not leave me up here, miles.'

you had called him miles.... dammit, you knew. he groaned softly, before swinging back to the roof he left you on, seeing you play games on your phone. "took you long enough, bug-boy." you mumbled, slipping the device into your pocket.

"dont play me, sunflower. you know. you knew. how long?" he spoke, fiddling with his thumbs.

"um, lemme think... the day before i brought you that bracelet. i was waiting for you to tell me, but..." you look away from him with a small frown, biting the inside of your lip. he knew you only did that when u were thinking hard.

" 'm sorry, i was gonna but... i didn't."

"well... were you also gonna tell me that you like me?"

miles started choking on his spit, pulling up his mask to reveal his whole face. "w-what? y-you- what?"

"i saw the drawing on your floor. you made me look so... pretty." you stared at your shoes with that same smile as miles had captured in his drawing, suddenly finding your tangled laces interesting.

"you are pretty," he mumbled, staring at you, he could almost see the sunflowers blooming around you. "wish i said something before uni."

"yeah... but its not too late to do this, right?"

before he could ask what, your arms were wrapping around his shoulders as you met him in a sweet kiss, and damn it felt like everything he imagined and so much more.

"so... you like me?" miles looked at you with a boyish smile as you rolled your eyes.

"you're lucky i do," you said before you kissed him again, his arms finally moving to wrap around you. you were right though.

he was the luckiest boy he knew.

over 2 weeks on this i might jump 💀

#miles morales x reader #miles x reader #across the spiderverse #earth 1610 miles morales #earth 1610 miles morales x reader #miles morales

192 notes · View notes

barzzal · 3 months

Text

call me crosby → part six

summary: Young, reckless, and rash, an unplanned pregnancy causes a massive rift in your relationship with then, cup-hungry 27 year-old Sidney Crosby. As he gets caught up in his own childish and selfish ways, confused to what was once certain, he lets you struggle alone. His absence reasons a miscarriage scare that leads you to end the relationship. Years after losing you, having to live a life that’s surrounded with the families his friends have built through the years embodies his greatest regret. Now with three cups and tons of awards at his disposal, Sid is given a chance to right his wrongs and win what was once the biggest loss of his life.

pairing: sidney crosby x fem!reader gen. warnings: language and theme, co-parenting, mentions of pregnancy & false miscarriage, sexual/suggestive themes, 18+ ch. warnings: parenting, tantrums, and a tad bit of angst genre: hockey rpf, fluff, angst, kid-fic, exes to lovers length: series; 5.2k masterlist: the barn, series masterlist

note: REALLY hoping i get to finish this while on my uni break. This was supposed to be posted on father's day but ya girl was on a trip i had to make most of it yk! Also, do note that the italicized part is a quick flashback. Anyway, happy reading! <3 (gif used: mine)

disclaimer: this is a work of fiction. teasers, interviews, events, and the like that are included in the series are purely made for fictional purposes and do not/should not represent any of the names involved in real life. please proceed with caution.

Two words. Terrible twos.

It was one of the things your mom has told you about raising a child of your own. It was a stage full of tantrums and frustrations; one you’ve never dealt with before. You were told that it was overwhelming, that you have to prepare yourself mentally and physically for it. However, your son, as the marvel child that he is, was so good at that age that you need not have to worry about it.

Well, not until a few years later.

“Mommy, please!” Luke wails in frustration from the living room.

He has been asking for a little more screen time watching his show instead of doing his homework. And be that as it may, he has been adamant about not getting what he wanted.

This has been going on for a couple of weeks, following Luke’s realization of not getting to play much of hockey. Frankly, as well as not seeing much of Sidney.

“Honey, you’ve been watching for almost two hours. That’s enough.” you say, massaging your temple as you walk towards where he is, trying not to lose your temper.

You and your son have always been in sync. You have not really had the chance to reprimand or give him a good scolding. Lucas is a fairly calm child right from the beginning. To say the least, dealing with his temper tantrums now is a lot harder than you’ve prepared for.

You see him sitting on the couch holding the remote tightly. His cheeks are still evidently damp from all the crying. You know he’s bound to strain his voice just by looking at him.

“Two hours is not enough!” he appeals. Just like you thought, his voice is now nearly gone from all the screaming. “Please, I want my TV!”

It is during times like this where you have to try harder as a mother. You know it will not always be rainbows with Luke. But despite your efforts to ensure that he would be able to express himself when you greatly need it, you can’t blame a child for not knowing exactly how he feels nor the reason for it. You just wish he’d be able to let you know even just a little. At least then, you could make it all better.

“Baby,” you endearingly call for him as you approach.

With a soft smile on your face, you caress his hair. Your hands then fall to his cheeks so as to wipe his tears away.

“You’ve already watched a lot of episodes today...” you carefully work your way in; gently reminding him of his acquired screen time.

Frustratingly, Luke’s voice breaks as he tries to tell you he wasn’t going to watch any more episodes of Paw Patrol and the new Lego Spiderman.

“Then what were you trying to watch?” you ask him with the same nurturing voice.

You see Luke shoot a glance over the screen that you’ve already turned off half an hour ago.

Yes, this has been going on for that long.

“Mkay, you may turn it on so you can show me.”

There comes a glint of hope in his eyes the moment he hears you. You fight the urge to chuckle, finding it quite adorable.

Luke, now standing on his feet, finds the red power button and points it towards the television. Once it’s turned on, the thumbnail of a show greets you; one that you least expected– one that you clearly were not ready for.

“So tell us guys, how can we make hockey more fun?” said the last voice you wanted to hear.

Sid and Nathan in their respective jersey’s for a commercial a few years back comes into view. You know that it was one of his brand commitments that he still does to this day. You were just not aware that Tim Horton’s apparently had this particular video uploaded for everyone to see.

As you watch the clip turn over to a handful of kids skating towards the two famed athletes, you make the mistake of taking the remote from your son to pause the short youtube clip quite hastily. You inevitably surprise him with your reaction thereby scaring him.

Upon deducing that you were upset by the show that he has chosen, Luke begins to cry even harder than before.

Alarmed, you put away the remote and reached for him. You let him fall in your arms whilst he buried his face in your chest.

“I’m sorry, baby. Mommy didn’t mean that.” you try to convince him, caressing his head. You feel disgusted with yourself because you know this is not the way you wanted this moment to unfold.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Mommy.” Luke says in between his sobbing. He hugs you tighter whilst in a heaping mess.

“Hush, it’s okay.” you comfort him. “I’m sorry too.”

You let him cry himself out. It may be heartbreaking for you, but you couldn’t think of any other way to help your seemingly helpless child. The only thing you could offer him is the assurance that you will always be by his side when he needs you.

You know that the overwhelming surge of emotion he’s feeling now is quite new for him. Dealing with his outburst may be tough on your end, but you can’t even imagine how much harder it must have been for a child to be utterly clueless as to why he is crying.

Swiftly, just like you used to do when he was a baby, you sway your body whilst Luke stays in your embrace. Once Luke’s breathing begins to calm down, you lovingly caress his back; deciding to try again.

“How are you feeling, darling?”

Luke doesn’t utter a word. However, you feel him move even closer to your body as if there was any space left. You tighten your hold on him as you place a kiss atop his forehead.

“Mommy’s not mad at you, okay?”

With what you assume is the last of his sobs, Luke quietly replies, “Okay…”

He breaks away from your hold and looks you in the eye, “I’m sorry.”

You offer him a reassuring smile, “I’m sorry too. I didn’t mean to scare you, honey.”

You plant a wet kiss atop his nose, making him giggle.

“May I know why you wanted to watch more TV?” you ask.

When you see a hint of hesitation on his demeanor you add, “I’m not upset. I promise. Go on, you can tell me.”

“Sidney…”

“Do– Do you miss him?” you ask hesitantly, afraid to hear what his answer might be.

Your son nods, “Uh-huh.”

Of course.

Luke continues, “He said… he’s going to play with me when he comes back.”

“Where is he, Mom? Why isn’t he back?”

“I…” you struggle. You didn’t know how to tell him that this was all because of your doing. “I don’t know, honey.”

Luke looks at you with his little eyes, all too tired from crying. “Doesn’t he wanna play with me?”

You shake your head, determined not to put thoughts in his head that could be a detriment as to how he saw Sidney. Funny how you still instinctively did things for Sidney’s sake.

“Of course, he does, sweetheart. He’s just—”

Your son interrupts, “He’s just what?”

You caress his cheek as you say, “He needed to take care of some stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?”

You hum, playing with his hair. “Stuff like what Mom also has to take care of sometimes.”

You think of an example. “Like, when I leave you with Aunt Claire for a little while, you remember?”

He looks up at you with enthusiasm in his voice when he says, “Aunt Claire always gives me M&Ms.”

You give him a warm and knowing smile. “She does, doesn’t she?”

Your son continues, “She also gives me candy when you come back.”

“Yes! See– I always come back, right?” you begin to explain. “Sidney’s gonna come back too, honey. It’s just taking a while. We need to wait a bit longer.”

Luke tilts his head, “Longer?”

“Yes, right. Can you do that? Can you wait a little more for Sidney?”

Once again, only with a discernible smile spreading on his lips, your son nods.

“Are you gonna wait for him too?”

It takes a few seconds before you are able to answer.

“Yes. I am also waiting for him.”

𖥸

Days have gone and your son stayed true to his words. He’s waiting patiently for Sidney.

In the meantime, Luke has shifted his focus on his art albeit not entirely off hockey given that most of his drawings were of hockey sticks, pucks, and the Pittsburgh Penguins logo.

You no longer mind for as long as he is, for lack of a better term, distracted. You and Sidney have remained in no contact with one another and it is highly likely to remain the same. You may have kept in touch with Cath and Anna but neither of them gave you word as to how Sidney was doing. Surely, they were thinking you did not really care for it. Did you?

You sigh, watching your son soundly asleep as he takes his afternoon nap. Days have been quite easier ever since the night you last saw Sidney. But you have to admit, seeing your son’s room now reminds you of him. You would have easily shut down the idea of having Sidney taint the corners of your home with his presence; particularly your son’s room. It would have easily aggravated you, perhaps fuel the hate you have for him even more. How come you don’t? How come what you feel instead is the void in your gut that is melancholy.

Quietly, you shut the door of your son’s room to let him rest.

You have been pondering as to how to remedy your situation with Sidney but alas, nothing came close to a practicable and civil reconciliation. You knew full well that co-parenting would be hard given the fact that it was one of the reasons why you chose to be your son’s only parent. You just fell short of realizing how it will equally be as hard on you. As much as you’d give every fiber of your being to be the best Mother you can be to your child, it kills you to acknowledge that Luke needs someone other than you, even more so that it inevitably means him needing his father.

Perhaps Sidney isn’t the only one who had a hand in everything falling apart. ‘Perhaps’ is a little far fetched but a mere inkling would suffice. You are not yet ready to acknowledge you had your share in the wrongs that make up this little broken family of yours.

You were putting away Luke’s plushies in his toy bin when you heard the doorbell ring. You place the bin on the floor before you make your way to the front door. It was unusual given that you were not really expecting anyone to drop by. The only close friends you have in the city would not be so careless in doing so for obvious reasons.

You take a quick glance on the doorbell camera and your heart immediately sinks.

Of all the people you’d expect to be waiting at the other side of the door, she would be the last one.

The moment you opened the door you were welcomed with eyes as blue as the ocean back home, hair that is as gold as the afternoon sun, and a smile that’s entirely identical to Sidney’s and your son’s.

Close to losing all the words you know, you were able to say one name.

“Taylor.”

She wastes no second, “Is it true?”

You see Taylor’s eyes wander off to Luke’s toy bin sitting idly near the staircase. The discerning look on her face let you know she no longer needed an answer.

“Come in.” you say.

Quiet and unsettling air sits as you invite Sidney’s sister inside your home. You did not really know where to begin. The best thing you can do now is to lead her to your living room, offer some tea, and sit in silence.

“Can I get you anything? I might have some tea lying around.” you say, offering formalities.

Taylor gives you a tight-lipped smile. Reserved. You get it. You would be too if you recently learned you had a nephew.

“Water would be nice.” she replies.

You give her a swift nod just as you tell her, “Please, make yourself comfortable.”

You turn on your heels and make your way towards the kitchen with cold hands and a pounding heart. Sitting with Sidney’s sister for afternoon tea isn’t exactly what you had in mind spending your time off work.

Needless to say, you prolong the trip to the kitchen and back to the living room. You need to buy yourself some time to process what’s about to happen.

Upon your return, you see Taylor looking at the photo wall you’ve created through the years. The very same one you caught Sidney looking at the first time you invited him over.

When the two of you catch each other’s gaze, you offer Taylor an apologetic smile. It’s true. You now realize how your new life — your growth looked like through the eyes of your old friends. A harsh reminder that none of them are in it.

You and Taylor were good friends ever since Sidney brought you to Halifax to meet his folks. You always had a hard time warming up to people you barely know, but with Taylor… well, she made it so easy.

If only she knew of the things you’ve gone through subsequent to the better parts of your life with her brother. Maybe then, she’d understand.

The two of you utter each other’s names at once, immediately stopping upon realization.

You gladly let Taylor know she could continue what she was about to say. After all, you know she has nothing but questions that only you could answer.

The first thing she asks is, “What happened?”

You begin to explain. You tell her about the first time you knew you were pregnant, the moment you told Sidney, and how things unraveled shortly after that. You spared her no detail of what has come and gone; the years that flew by so quickly and dreadfully slow at the same time.

“I didn’t know things were that hard,” she says apologetically, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because,” you pause, “I knew Sidney felt alone.”

With kind eyes, Taylor replies, “So were you.”

Taylor has always been on your side despite being Sidney’s sister. She knew how difficult her brother can be. After all, she grew up with him.

You sigh because what she said was true. You and Sidney were alone together. But regardless of the wall that separated the two of you, you didn’t want to let Sidney feel as alone as you felt when he left you. Maybe that’s why you inadvertently left Taylor out of the mess just so Sidney felt he still had someone on his side.

“At the time everyone blamed him for not wanting a child.” you begin, “I knew that if I told you, you’d feel the same as I do. I didn’t want him to feel that his sister was against him too.”

“Listen,” she says, “When Sid told me, I swore that I was gonna come up here and be mad at you… but for years, I’ve seen how the game ate up most of the Sid I knew. So I guess, I couldn’t really blame you.”

“I only did what I thought was the best for us.” you say honestly, “I just didn’t think the repercussions of my action would bring us into this much mess.”

It’s true. The life you pictured with your son excluded Sidney, but you should have known that what Claire told you was right the moment you came back to Pittsburgh with your son. Sure, the first year went by so blissfully. But you have forgotten yet another circumstance you should have known before you dealt another card: Luke.

Luke is growing up exactly how you dreamt him to be. A boy who has a mind of his own. You cannot really expect him to go along your every plan if he’s already becoming his own person, can you?

You hate yourself for it. However, you’ll hate yourself even more if you deprive him of something he is entitled to have no matter how much you’re against it.

Taylor stayed for a while. You spend the time showing her memories you’ve made with Luke. You showed pictures of your son as a newborn, the many birthday parties you have thrown for him, even the ones you have taken of him playing hockey. Taylor savored every bit of the nephew she could get to know. The only thing left now is to finally meet him.

With nothing but a humble heart you hold Taylor’s hand and say, “I’m really sorry.”

Taylor puts her hand on top of yours, giving it a squeeze. “I understand.”

“Do you want to meet him?”

“I do,” she gives you a warm smile, “but not when you and Sidney have yet to patch things up.”

You let go of her hand and sigh. You understood what she wanted you to do. For the first time, you wanted the same thing too.

“I’ll talk to him.”

𖥸

July has been warming up the city but your words still rang in Sidney’s ears as if it had just been uttered.

“I’m done.”

As hard as it was to admit, Sidney knew that the article was the final nail in the coffin — the final string that would make him understand why you had to keep his son away from him. Just like all the other times, you were right. He had always been less of a man much like all the others.

He couldn’t wrap his head around how he managed to screw things up worse than he already had even when he was barely making any progress. Perhaps, it was foolish of him to think he can still make it work. After all, what more remedy could he do to the very thing you have long buried six feet under?

Instead, what he did was go home to Halifax days subsequent to the release of the controversial article. The last thing he wanted was attention so he did the sanest thing he could think of: renovate his lake shed.

Apart from the fact that it was the off-season, Sidney could not see himself staying in his Pittsburgh home. The night you ended the attempt to co-parent with him only reminded Sidney of the time he foolishly thought he had already purged out of his system. It was as if he had been brought back to the night he was told his child was gone.

“Please don’t end us.” he says, knees already on the cold hospital floor. “Please don’t make me leave.”

Sidney feels your grip on his hand tighten as an attempt to break off his hold, but before you can do so, the door to your room opens to reveal Kris and Geno rushing to take Sidney away from you.

“Sidney,” he hears Geno call his name.

He didn’t budge. He wasn’t going anywhere without you. He knew you needed him. He understood what had to be done. A little too late, but he’s here now.

“Y/N-”

“Sid,” Kris places a hand on his shoulder just as he firmly says, “let her rest.”

It was the least Sidney could do. To let you be — as he had easily done so when it was the last thing you wanted.

Sidney came back to the hospital with a bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hands. He walked the halls with hope only to find out you were no longer there. He had been cut off as soon as Kris and Geno walked him out of your hospital room — the last time he was ever going to see you.

He waited for hours sitting on the lobby bench beside your hospital room. If it were not for the next patient arriving to occupy the room, Sidney would not have probably left.

The days he spent in your shared home haunted him of the days he had left you alone in it waiting for him to come home. The house he had built with his fame and successes have now become a constant reminder of what a failure it really was.

Sidney sighed once he finished a glass of water. He absent mindedly places it atop the counter as his eyes remained in focus at a photograph placed on his refrigerator. It had been a while since he last saw it. After all, he only gets to go home during the off season.

He walks towards the fridge and takes the photo in his hand. It was the first sonogram you had of your son. The one you dread having to leave when you finally had the courage to leave Sidney, but the last possession Sidney has of the life he could have been living.

With eyes now glistening with impending tears, Sidney lightly rubs his thumb on the picture — what was once a tiny little peanut has grown to become a boy Sidney could no longer keep out of his mind. He’s hurting at the fact that he misses you — but his heart aches at the thought of Luke eventually forgetting about him. Sidney knows he’s going to be yet another random ‘Mr.’ at a camp that happened to teach him a sport he will grow up to forget eventually. All those memories Sidney will bring with him to his deathbed will surely be forgotten by the time the tiny little peanut graduates from college.

Who else could he blame for the life he’s now living however miserable it may be? You offered him this life with your own life on the line. Sidney did nothing but toss it aside because he was set on his ways. He couldn’t blame anyone but himself. Perhaps, that’s what he should bring to his deathbed.

Sidney’s self-loathing was put into a halt when he heard a chime coming from his phone already buzzing on his kitchen counter.

He sees a message that almost had him on his knees.

Just below your name were the words he had least expected but mostly hoped to read, “Can we talk?”

𖥸

As soon as you were able to set a date, Sidney wasted no time and got in the next flight bound for Pittsburgh. Sidney had two days to prepare before meeting you and while that seemed like enough time to be able to think about what he’s going to say the moment he sees you, he could neither ascertain how to explain nor justify his shortcomings. So, he won’t.

Sidney watches your car pull over the driveway after having opened his gate. After the tedious two-day wait, you were back. Well, at least that’s what Sidney thought at the time. Because unlike him, it was not just two days — it has been six years.

Sidney was chivalrous enough to let a few seconds pass before he finally opened the door for you although to tell you the truth, he had been at the other side of it long before you rang the doorbell.

You follow Sidney’s steps as you make your way to the living room. Said walk was not like the others you used to thread on back when you were still together — it wasn’t so long and quiet. At least, it didn’t feel that way.

“Can I offer you a drink?” Sidney asks. The hoarseness in his voice strung along his words.

Has he been crying that much? His eyes were a bit tired. He hasn’t been sleeping. How come Kris said he was fine? But then again, Sidney has had quite a talent in putting up a facade. You catch him fiddling his thumb. When he sees where your eyes have been, Sidney immediately takes his hand into his pocket.

You immediately put your gaze elsewhere. “Uh, just water.”

As you scan the view that is Sidney Crosby’s home, one thing comes to mind: it looks nothing like Connor Mcdavid’s. Sidney’s was far more deserving to be featured in Architectural Digest. To hell with black and metal. This was a home.

Well, it is. Just not for Sidney.

Even if it was, a part of you knew Sidney would never parade his home for everyone else to see; let alone have it printed on a magazine.

Apart from the wood panels that fashioned the ceilings, everything else was unfamiliar. It was as if you never lived in it. He had new pieces displayed in various corners of the room. Some of it worth millions sitting idly beside or on top of worn out books like some mere paper weight.

Sidney also redid the floors. Neutral wide plank flooring. You thought that it was quite a bold choice considering the majority of the furniture you had before came in dark tones. But then, that made you realize Sidney also bought new furniture. He also changed a few fixtures, here and there. The white french sliding doors leading to the patio were now replaced with glass doors that had wood trimmings as well as the hallway leading to your old home office that now had interior glass doors. You notice tons of boxes you could see from the other side. Perhaps, he thought it would now be a good use for a storage space. After all, he had to fill in every bit of void you’ve left him with.

You tear your eyes away from the halls you used to frequent. Instead, you quietly follow Sidney’s footsteps. The house still had an open floor-plan. Sidney loved seeing everything at once. At least that hasn’t changed.

“Make yourself comfortable.” he says with a tight-lipped smile just as he turns towards the kitchen.

The cloud of uncertainty was still evident and heavy. To top it all, you were neither sure of what to tell him nor where to begin. Clearly, you should have bought yourself a bit more time before ringing his doorbell.

You hold your bag close to your chest once you’ve sat in Sidney's living room. You were wrong. The changes he made were drastic. His taste then was incomparable to how it is now. The Sidney you knew then wouldn’t be so meticulous as to what type of wood to use in his fireplace or what fabric to pick when it comes to throw pillows lining the couch. Hell, he wouldn’t have thought of having one — let alone five.

A quiet smile seeps in your lips. It’s nice that something good has come out of such an ugly chapter in your lives.

Your eyes catch a shade of blue and crimson red blankly displayed on the side of the room from where you were sitting. You feel a gnawing guilt resting in your guts as the painting comes into full view. You stand as your hand travels to your chest. It was a piece by Peter Doig called the “100 Years Ago”.

A man sits alone in a canoe in the middle of a quiet and still ocean. The man looks at you helpless and tired of what must have been an arduous journey. You meet his eyes, as if it were in desperate need of help. Your help. But then again, there’s an island waiting for him — even a house sitting on top of the hill. Couldn’t he just row his way and ask for help? Perhaps his inability to do so was due to the fact that he’d already gone to that house — maybe what it really was is just as empty as what he already had in the canoe.

As the eerily still piece settles before your eyes, you can’t help but think of what it must have been like to be the one that’s stuck. The man that was torn between two distances. To choose between whatever it was sitting before his eyes and the big island he can always call home.

“Hey.”

Sidney’s voice pulls you back to your feet.

“I’m sorry I kept you waiting.” he says, two glasses of water in each hand.

“No, it’s all right.” you say.

“That–” you turn your gaze back to the painting before continuing, “That is something.”

Sidney gives a humble smile. “Thanks. I got it a couple of years back when I started renovating the place.”

It would be absurd to say that Sidney’s house has not changed since the last time you walked its halls. It did change. A lot. After all, you didn’t expect him to leave everything as it was; how you left it. Despite that, there was a little hope that Sidney did leave a bit of what might have reminded him of you untouched.

“So– listen, the reason why I came here.” you begin, hugging the glass with both your hands.

“I know. Taylor.” Sidney saves you the need to explain. “I’m sorry I told her. I wasn’t in my right mind the last couple of weeks.”

It’s true. He knew it must have been hard for you to tell Taylor everything. It was yet another reason for you to cut him completely out of your life, yet another rash decision, yet another failure. Sidney did what he could at the time and his only wish now is for you to understand. He had just lost you and his son twice. To have done otherwise would have made him lose his mind.

“No. It’s alright. She’s bound to know that she has a nephew.” you earnestly reply.

At this point, you have come to realize that you’ve been insufferable regardless of your own merits. Sidney thought he had lost a son. You couldn’t possibly deprive him of his own sister.

“How– how is he?” he asks, afraid of how he’ll be answered.

You look Sidney in his eyes just as you say, “He’s been missing you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Really.”

Sidney takes in the new information as a quiet smile spreads on his lips. Luke misses him.

Seeing Sidney’s reaction brought you a sense of guilt and warmth only a parent could feel.

“Honestly, Taylor visiting isn’t really the reason why I’m here.”

His brows quirk and asks, “What do you mean?”

“I think…” you say, fighting yourself from refusing to tell Sidney the truth. The very truth that you’re still having a hard time accepting.

“I think it’s time to acknowledge– and for me to accept, that my son needs you.”

It’s the truth. It might have been hard for you given that Sidney was the root of it all, but you could no longer put up with the way you have been treating Sidney at your son’s expense. You may still have bits of resentment towards what once was but that doesn’t give you a right to deprive your son of his right. A part of you may still hate Sidney for the pain he caused you, but you could not bear the thought of your son hating his father because of your own doing.

Sidney is at a loss for words.

“Do you really mean that?”

He sees you nod.

You give him a reassuring smile.

“It’s one thing to keep a father away from his child, but it’s another to keep a child away from his father.”

series taglist:

@astrydis @sagebarzal @heysimps @barzybarz @penstxgal1968 @hockeytransplant @thescooby-gang @cherrylita @oleksiak-pettersson @matsbarzal @nhlgirl16 @titsbeauvillier @captainsimsam @matbarzyy @josthours @jostful @kazzilla @countryclubstarkey @barzysreputation @hoiyheadharpies @myhockeyworld87 @tovvaa @stfutkachuk @floralyn @barriesweet @je-ne-regrette-rien @cavill83 @princessphilly @tangercrosbyschultzfan25887 @just-gaily-things @virtuallighttrashgiant @klutchnetsov @cutiesara23 @lovethepreds @sxpollock @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch @sweetlittlegingy @4ambagelbites @c-tangerine @2kidcrew @mbls2022 @barzeel @art-m-anic @squidlywiddly87 @midnightdancewiththestars @partypoison00 @aboveaveragehockeyboys @pagirl6866 @mikkorantanev @carter91 @leafs-forever @mitchsmullet @hockeyallthetime @hockeyunits @love-like-woaah @loserrlauraa @heatherawoowoo @kenyadakblalock @sc87 @livelysim @lordescomeback @dudde-44 @prettyboyjackhughes @stlbluesbrat21 @dorotheathe1 @elitebarzal @barzal-mat @spine-buster @canadian-girl87 @hugheswhore @barznasty2point0 @iamthebonecarver @hockeypills @dreamer1430 @tregua-oca @caprielly @nationalhoranleague @jessicascontes @meishaabae @ballsakic @lovethepreds @colecauliflower @punkharts @ilyasorokinn @whoeverineedtobe @lorrmorr @stargurl-battleship @thescooby-gang @licia332 @kidlnthedark @lilyevanswhore @mae114 @unfortunatelyiloveu @unfortunatelyilove @Heatherlcrosby87 @harrysfishbowl @0cean-vib3s @ilikeblue25 @wherethedinonuggies @nebsuli @thetoxicegg @sensoryyoverload @xserenax-13 @HockeyJedi13 @fallinallincurls @labellederessaca @besthockeyfics @72bread-pasta88 @iheartsidneycrosby @whatthepucknow @monalicia @eclecticfashionbookszipper @cappot @xelagirlxo @oceanlover0497 @nm-r @timahtime @dreamer1430 @beaubuckley @hockeyandsht @niki-is-a-thing @bookoftenderthoughts @exdepressedstressednotwelldress @duchesschameleon @majdoline @bookoftenderthoughts @prettybiching @killersandmonkeys @dreamsndior @svndraoh @2kidcrew @hock-ee @alo-delmar @afuturemilf @notanaccount-anymore @brias1201 @idkalexaaw @ghosttkat @thevannuckss @iangiemae @ashleymarine @abrianna14 @createdbyperfectfury @annie170315 @UrImaginesPimp @lemondropirwin @jenn22xoxo @theblushinglittle @ninjabritches @williamkarlssons @aecw @ninjabritches @Iminlovewithenchiladas @love-like-woaah @brehonodea @Fairygardenss @puck-up-sticks @Bxdbxtxh15 @penstxgal1968 @mp0625 @moon78universe @endlesswoods @bruins-simp @jonny-toes @lazysportsfanfornhl @queenmendes @tysonbarriedefensesquad @savage-aespa @kittymacaroons @pattiemac1 @simpforbucky17 @lwstuff @double-j @cynthia1guardia @taeminortaemout @midgasaurus0809 @nicoleloveshockey @oli-birchhall @cleofailsatjellyfishing @walkonthewiideside @cavill83 @lo-bells @beccaiscold @horchatayarroz @liv2640 @yassassqueen @lukeythemoosey @fadingwolfprincess @nm-r @electralove-m @hopewealwaysfeel @emsully2002 @idkjj04 @evelynevelyn19 @dasiysthings @heatherloves87 @hockeybabe87 @lady-laura-speaks @lynnismypseudonym @puckmetwice @nhlfs @l0veforhugh3s @matthewss34 @magicgif @lethalvenus @mysticaldonkey @oceanluver0497 @alexlynn16 @joansiekennedy @kirillkaprizovswife @trashstacey @wkndwlff @generally-disinterested @shadowwolf009 @ @ratqueeee @casualhilarity @theincognitoqueen @its-bitchin-belle-bitches @parkersmjs @5secondsofonedirection222 @love-like-woaah @rebbie444 @jack17s @sleepretreat @alicechugstea @velvetpucks @bellstwd @smoooore @books-hlmc @foreverateengirl @lupinslibraries @angelmitsuri @dasiysthings @crimsonred13 @justamessandahalf @coldheartedmar @naffeesaa @bradmarchand4prez @nonsensical-nonsense @ru-kru @noooraaa234 @alwaysclassyeagle @alice4313

note: patience patience patience. thank you all! ♡

add yourself to the series taglist here. i appreciate all kinds of feedback! ♡

#sidney crosby #sidney crosby imagine #sidney crosby x reader #hockey imagine #hockey fanfiction #call me crosby #cmc #barzzal imagines #letters to crosby

149 notes · View notes

itshype · 2 years

Text

How I Met Your Brother (DC x DP)

Dan joins the Justice League - not as part of his rehabilitation, but as a reward for doing so well.

Tucker makes the grave mistake of mentioning Dan in front of Jazz. And as an eldest sister myself I would not be happy about an alternate version of my sibling being left completely alone in the world, no support, no family to then be turned into a psychopath. And I would be furious for them to then be imprisoned - not for life but for all time?

However, unlike me, Jazz is the world's foremost authority on ghost psychology. She has Dan out of his Thermos and in a larger enclosure within the week.

Now, a lot of fics have Jazz as a magical therapist who can say a few sentences and make any bad guy cry. Sorry, not today though.

First, they resocialise Dan like a feral cat (solitary confinement does make people get loopy), sitting outside his enclosure and hanging out, doing homework etc. This sort of gets him to figure out emotionally that he's no longer in the timeline where everyone he ever cared about died.

Danny discusses with him how many nightmares he's had over just the idea of losing his entire support network the way Dan did and he can't imagine what he's been through. But no emotions are not, in fact superior to having negative emotions.

After a few months, he decides that he does in fact want to actively try and get better. He goes to a therapist (because family members can't do therapy!!!) who's just unhinged enough to get a kick out of counselling a ghost from an alternate timeline.

There's only one relapse. Clockwork fixed it and they don't talk about it.

A month or so later they let him out of the enclosure for good. They offer to symbolically destroy it but Dan thinks they should keep it just in case.

While Dan's humanity has returned, his actual human half is gone forever. But he's interested in doing something with himself. He can't get a GED, or a degree, or be an astronaut. Maybe something in entertainment?

Tucker makes the grave mistake of mentioning that the Justice League headquarters are in space. Dan isn't as powerful anymore now he's no longer a halfa, but he knows he's handy in a fight. He loves space and due to having them repeatedly and ineffectively implemented against himself - a deep knowledge of international war tactics.

NGL, this isn't where I thought this story was going. But Dan is now an international politics, war policy and foreign affairs expert, I guess.

He helps a fair bit on the team, but his key contributions are his encyclopaedic predictions of how different international communities will react to events. If an out of control meta in Paris takes down the Eiffel Tower, he predicts which countries will immediately 'crack down' on their superpowered citizens - that sort of thing. It's invaluable for their PR team and young meta safety.

He's a friendly guy, doesn't judge anyone for losing control of their powers or going 'too far' on a villain who hurt their friends and family. And he never shuts up about his kid brother who is apparently also his best friend. He briefly mentions a baby sister he's never met and that makes everyone pretty sad.

He doesn't consider this Jazz his sister. He's already had a sister named Jazz and isn't looking for a 1:1 replacement. This Jazz is more like a mum-friend. However, he never had a Danny or an Ellie in his last life.

"My little brother told me about the trick to this level in Doomed 17, want me to explain what you're missing?"

"Sorry, I really can't possess you, even for 'anti mind-control' training. That isn't how overshadowing works, you can't become immune without exposure to ectoplasm in dangerous doses. No, I can't get you some pure ecto, my baby brother would kick my ass to hell."

"Yeah, my baby bro and I both wanted to be astronauts, I died so it's not in the cards for me anymore, but he has a real shot still, we're all rooting for him!"

Most Justice League members think he's a dead eldest brother with living siblings he's still in close contact with.

It's all fun and games until he tries to take a bullet for Batman during an ambush and it's actually an amnesia ray designed to make Batman forget about a specific case until the bad guy can complete his plan.

"I killed you all before, and I will do it again."

#dc x dp #dp x dc #mine #notfic #danny fenton #danny phantom #dc comics #dan phantom #dark danny phantom #tucker foley #jazz fenton #justice league #batman #bruce wayne

2K notes · View notes

ssa-atlas-alvez · 1 year

Note

okay but. imagine cowboy!reader is actually very educated. pro-LGBTQ, pro-choice, BLM, acab. very big speaker and doesn't take shit. BUT everyone thinks he isn't gonna educated and such until they're on a case dealing with like a trans kid and he's the first one to step up and comfort the kid and such. man im in the rabbit hole.

Allergies (Not Really)

No no no no no but the way I've started one where something of this theme happens (I don't want to give too much away aha)

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: transphobia, sad reader :( (i teared up a little ngl - it's not sad, he's just sad), guns, bullet wound, fighting, briefly mentions some murders to set the scene a bit, someone calls reader a redneck

Also I just want to say that the relationship between Mia and (Y/N) is completely platonic, maybe familial (a bit older brother-y or fatherly) not anything else. Just because I'm panicking because they spend a lot of time joking about and I wanna make that clear.

Taglist: @xweirdo101x @xdark-acadamiax

Your blood boils when you hear the case, an unsub has been targeting young families (parents and three kids all under the age of sixteen). The last family had a survivor, a twelve-year-old transgender girl named Mia, who was currently in the hospital being treated for a variety of injuries.

Your jaw clenches as you read the hospital report, whilst it wasn't too long (thankfully), you knew she would still have a lot to work through mentally.

"You alright over there, Eastwood?" Morgan asks.

"Just angers me, is all," You answer, not feeling the need to elaborate, feeling the source of your anger being fairly self-explanatory. You miss the concerned look Rossi and Hotch share.

A few hours later, the jet landed, once everyone was situated at the police station, you turned to the team.

"I'm gonna head to the hospital, make sure Mia's okay," You said.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Rossi’s the one that says it, but you can see everyone's thinking the same thing.

"Wha- Why wouldn't it be?... Oh I see," You say as the penny finally drops and it clicks, "Y'all think 'cause I'm from the South I'm against her bein' herself?" You sigh softly, rubbing the back of your neck, "Have I not proved myself yet?"

No one says anything for a moment, shocked by the hurt that flashes in your eyes, before they can, you pick your hat back up, settling it on your head, "I'm headin' to the hospital,” You mumble, leaving the room before anyone can say anything.

When you leave the room, you rub your eyes with the back of your hand. 'Not crying,' You try and convince yourself, 'allergies.' You trying to ignore the fact you know, 100%, that you don't have any allergies.

You get into one of the SUV's and begin making your way to the hospital, ignoring your phone as it lit up with various concerned messages.

The receptionist was a nice woman and was quick to show you to Mia's room (after staring at you hungrily for a few minutes). You gave a small knock before walking in.

"Are you here to tell me I'm too young to know myself as well?"

You furrow your eyebrows, "No, who told you that?"

"One of the nurses," She answers with a shrug.

"You know which one?"

"The guy with brown hair," She shrugs as she answers, "It's fine though, happens all the time."

"I personally don't think y'all are too young to realise who you are," You said with a shrug, "I think anyone who thinks that is trynna hide their bias by invalidatin' your identity."

Mia looks at you for a moment, "I like you." She states, "I thought you were going to be against it."

"I've been gettin' that a lot today, it would seem," You mumble before your head snaps to the door, relaxing when it's just JJ. "Anyway, I'm (Y/N), this is my colleague, Agent Jareau. Mia, you a'right if we ask you a few questions?"

"Sure,"

"Could you run us through what happened that night?"

"Mum and dad were cooking. We were all sitting at the table doing our homework, and someone knocked on the door." Mia began, "They asked me to open the door, and he grabbed me and put a gun to my head. He shot my dad, then-"

You gave her a small, encouraging smile, "You're doin' great,"

"Did you get a look at the person that did this?" JJ asked, when Mia nodded, she continued, "What did they look like?"

Your eyes widen in worry as the heart machine next to Mia picks up, as does her breathing. You pull yourself together and turn your attention to her, "Mia? Mia, hey," Your voice is soft as you kneel next to her, "You need to take some deep breaths for me sweetheart,"

"Can't-"

You nod at her, "Yes, yes you can," You encourage, "Deep breaths, in, one, two, three, four, five, and out. That was good, keep going,"

It takes a moment, but her breathing evens out and she appeared to be less anxious, "There we go," You grin, "Told ya,"

"Okay, Texas," Your jaw drops slightly, the joke catching you off guard.

"That's not fair, I can't even say anythin' back without bullin' a child,"

"Ha ha." She responds, you throw your hands up in the air, smiling when she laughs at you.

JJ rolls her eyes slightly at you with a small smile as the doctor walks in with a few nurses for a routine checkup. Your eyebrows furrow when you see a male nurse with brown hair. Your eyes flick to the name badge, 'Darren', assuming this is the same nurse, you make a mental note of his name.

"We'll be just outside, a'right?"

Her hand shoots out, clinging onto your sleeve, "No! Don't leave!" She looks at you slightly hesitantly, "Please?"

"Hey, hey, it's a'right, I'll stay here," You answer, eyes flicking down to her for a moment before turning to JJ.

"Hotch wants me to go with Morgan to the scene," JJ said, "You good here? I'll let him know,"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm good here and thanks," You give a small smile.

When the doctor and nurses left, you turned to Mia, "That nurse you mentioned earlier? The brown-haired one? Was he in the room just now?"

Mia nodded, "Yeah,"

"Had a name badge on, name Darren?" Mia nodded once more. "Alright, I'll be back in a moment,"

"Where are you going?"

"I just want a quick word with this Darren fella," You shrug, seeing the look on Mia's face you roll your eyes slightly, "Don't you worry your little head about it, I'm not gonna hurt him or anythin'."

"Okay..." She said.

"Is that a'right?"

Mia shrugged, "Sure." You nodded before exiting the room.

Furrowing your eyes when you came face to face with Rossi, "Howdy, I'm just popping out for a few," You said.

Rossi nodded, walking into the room after you had left. "I'm Agent Rossi," He said, "I work with (Y/N),"

"The cowboy?"

"Yeah, the cowboy," Rossi huffs a small laugh as he sits in his seat. "Have the staff here been treating you okay?"

Mia shrugs, "Yeah," She answers, "There was one nurse but I think Texas has gone to sort him out or something. He might beat him up."

Rossi smiles slightly, "Texas?"

"Yeah, the cowboy," She said, "I think he's frustrated that everyone keeps assuming he's going to be against me being trans... I'd be frustrated too, I think," She added after a moment's thought.

You leave Mia, now feeling slightly better that Rossi will be there whilst you're gone. Spotting your target, you speed up.

"Excuse me! Nurse?" The man turns towards you, Darren. "I just wanted to have a word with you about Mia?"

You watch as Darren shifts uncomfortably. "Yes?"

"I just wanted to say that perhaps telling someone they're too young to understand 'emselves probably doesn't make 'em feel a whole lotta good about 'emselves."

Darren looks you up and down slightly as he takes a few steps towards you. "And what exactly do you know?" He scoffs, "I'm surprised a redneck such as yourself can read and write."

"That's some nice deflection there," You said sarcastically, trying not to let it show how much the stereotypes flung into your face hurt. "Just... don't be a dick. If you don't understand somethin', look it up. I'm sure you can read. So perhaps do your research before you project onto a twelve year old girl." With that, you give a forced smile before turning on your heels and head back to Mia's room.

"Welp, that outta have done it," You give a lopsided grin, "A'right Rossi?"

"I'm fine Kid, you okay?"

"Yes sir," You answered, "I might grab myself a drink, y'all want anything?"

Mia laughs, "Y'all?"

"Rossi, Imma need your assistance, I'm getting bullied by a twelve year old,"

"Sorry, Kiddo, can't help you there." He chuckled, "I will ask that you grab me a coffee though."

"Coming right up!"

Hours later, she's sat up on the bed whilst you're sat on a chair (a rather uncomfortable one) next to the bed, Rossi having left an hour ago, both of your gazes focused on a small, empty glass bottle that stood on the overbed tables. Each armed with a small piece of string as a makeshift lasso.

"You're not a very good cowboy, are you?" Mia observes as you miss once more.

"Hey, I haven't done this in a while,"

"How longs a while? Never?" She asked, throwing the lasso perfectly once more.

"I'll have you know its been, okay so it's been like ten years, a'right? You were two last time I had to lasso something,"

"Wow, you're old."

"I had no idea twelve year olds were so mean, you're about to make a grown man cry,"

Mia gave a laugh, you quickly joining in. You flung the lasso half-heartedly, eyes widening as it hit its target perfectly. "Yeehaw!"

"Yeehaw? Seriously? You're so lame." You jaw dropped once more. You both jumped as gunshots echoed throughout the hospital, you sat up straight, immediately turning to Mia.

"Mia, I need you to take this," You handed your phone over to her, "The pass code is 1999, okay? You need to phone Hotch. Lock the door behind me, go into the bathroom and lock that door too, okay?"

Mia looked up at you with wide, scared eyes, "Are you gonna be okay?"

"I'm gonna be absolutely fine, a'right?" When she nodded, you gave her a smile, "Don't open this door until I tell you to, or Hotch phones and says to okay?"

You shut the door, not moving until you heard it lock in place. When you heard the soft click, you nodded to yourself as you began to make your way towards sound.

Seeing a nurse, you jogged up to her, "Ma'am, try and get everyone into their rooms, tell them not to come out, okay?" The nurse nods and runs off. You continue cautiously towards the sound of gunshots, revolver clutched in your hands.

When you find him, he's holding a person close to his chest, what with that and the people running past you, you don't have a clear shot. You meeting eyes with the wide yes of the hostage against his chest, you look at her, giving a small nod as you inch closer.

When the moment's right, she ducks her head, pulls her elbow back, before slamming it into the guy's ribs. As he curls over, she wiggles out of her grasp, joining the others in fleeing. With a sigh, you brace yourself before charging at the man, tackling him to the floor.

It takes a moment for the unsub to recover, in that time you've delivered a few blows to his face, both of your guns falling during the tackle. He's quick to flip you over, he aims for the torso first, delivering a handful of well-aimed punches. Next, he takes a fist of your hair, slamming your head into the floor. Once, twice, three times before you get the momentum needed to push him off you.

You staggered up, paying no mind to the pain in your head throbbing in beat with your pulse, the blood on the side of you head that's slowly dripping into your eye, or the ache that's spread through your abdomen. You had to either distract this guy until the team got here or knock him out. Either way, you weren't about to let yourself pass out and let this bastard hurt Mia.

As you're breathing deeply through the pain, the unsub has stood, he (however) is not as chivalrous, so he takes the moment make his way over to you. He grabs your shoulders as he pulls his knee to your groin, pushing you to the floor as you double over in pain. Happy with having the advantage, he continues to aim cheap blows to your sides.

Despite this, you stumble up once more, you keeping your left arm wrapped close to your ribs on your right. They were definitely bruised as a minimum. You duck the punch sent your way, wincing slightly as it pulls on your arm and ribs. Both of your eyes lock on the gun at the same time as the pair of you dive for it. He reaches it first, gripping it tightly in his hands as you immediately go for it, to loosen his grip, anything you can think of.

There's a bang and you grunt as a bullet enters the top of your left arm, adding insult to injury. Okay, so disarming him didn't really work.

"FBI!" You sigh in relief as the unsub is pulled away from you, letting your head fall against the cold floor with your eyes closed - trying to get a grip on the pain. You listen as they cuff the bastard before dragging him out of the hospital. You let your eyes flutter open as you begin to push yourself off of the floor.

"I'm fine," You mumbled, shrugging Hotch's hands off you, "I'm fine, check on Mia."

"Morgan, stay with (Y/N)."

When Hotch is gone, you turn to Morgan, "I'm fine, go help Hotch."

"Sorry, got my order," Morgan said with a shrug. You don't answer, as much as you don't want to admit it, the pain was really starting you affect your headspace. You felt like you couldn't think. "Come on, let's get you checked out."

You shook your head, "No, I need to check on Mia first," You mumbled, giving a low groan as you pushed yourself up.

"Alright, lead the way," Morgan said. You don't answer, simply forcing one foot in front of the other until you're back at Mia's room.

"Is he okay?!" You hear Mia's question through the door.

"He's okay," You hear Hotch reassuring her.

"Then where is he?! He said he'd be here as soon as he could!" Mia's panic causes your eyebrows to furrow, "Oh god, he's dead, isn't he?"

You push the door open, trying to look as put together as possible for Mia, not wanting her to panic. "I'm very much alive, thank you very much," You say.

"I thought he killed you!" She exclaims, rushing towards you. You groan when Mia flings her arms around you, burying her head in your chest and she immediately steps back, seeing the blood her eyes widen. "Holy shit he shot you?!"

"Hey, language,"

"Sorry Texas," She grins, and you roll your eyes.

"Texas?" Morgan grins, "Oh, that is so sticking around,"

You groan slightly, "Seriously?"

"Seriously."

You turn to Mia, "Thanks kid," You say sarcastically.

"No problem, old man." Your jaw drops once more.

"I don't know if my ego can take all these insults,"

"I don't know what y'all are talkin' about I would never do such a thing to y'all," She says, trying her best to do an impersonation, giggling slightly at the look of disbelief on your face.

"That- Now that was just a bridge too far-" You barely get the sentence out before you're huffing a laugh (and then wincing because of said laugh).

"Alright, come on, Texas," Derek smirks, placing a hand on your shoulder, "Let's go get you checked out."

You weren’t too injured (thankfully), minus the bullet wound, it was mostly just bruises. Eventually, you were all stitched up and laid in a hospital bed - which you hated, but Hotch had glared at you when you went to protest.

A soft knock echoed through the door before it opened, a blonde woman poking her head round. You frowned slightly, not recognising her.

"Hi, I'm Mia's aunt," The woman says and you straighten up (ignoring the discomfort).

"Ma'am," You said with a nod.

"I just wanted to say thank you,"

"What for?" You furrowed your eyebrows as she raised hers, motioning to your current state. "Ma'am I was just doing my job."

"Well, either way, thank you."

You give a small smile, "No worries, Ma'am."

“I’m going to be her guardian now that-” Mia’s aunt paused, taking a deep breath to compose herself before she continued, “After everything and I really appreciate what you did for her.”

You give her a small smile, “Of course, Ma’am.”

She gives you one last smile as she leaves the room, “Oh, agent?” You look at her, “Is it alright if I bring Mia in? We’re about to head off and she wanted to say goodbye.”

You nod, “Yeah, yeah, of course,”

When the door closes, you push yourself the best you can, the door opens a few minutes later and Mia walks in.

“How y’all healin’?”

“First, I wouldn’t say y’all if it’s just one person,” You said, rolling your eyes, “Second, I’m doin’ a’right,”

“You missed like seven letters in that sentence,” She laughs, you huff a small laugh, forcing a wince down.

“It’s an art form,” You reply. "Your aunt seems nice,"

“She is, I’m going to live with her,” Mia says, smiling, “She lives in California. I can’t wait, apparently my uncle’s been getting a room ready for me,”

“That’s great,” You smiled. "How are you feeling in yourself?"

"I'm okay," Mia said with a shrug, "I know it's going to be a while until I'm back to one hundred percent, but I'm willing to put in the work."

"Smart kid," You said, "You'll be okay."

"Oh, Aunty Meg you should have been there earlier! Texas was all like 'how are y'all doin'?' And he made lassos but he was absolutely useless with one and the last time he used one was when I was two and…"

Mia's voice faded as you looked at the hat on the table for a moment, lightly taking it in your own hands, brushing over the material lightly with the pad of your thumb. It was one of your favourite hats. You looked up, seeing the grin on Mia's face as she did her best cowboy impressions, you smiled. "Hey, I think you'll find, every southerner - impersonator or not - needs their very own hat," You said, reaching over to place it on her head. "Perfect, a true southerner!"

"Well I'll be damned!" Mia exclaimed, tilting the hat slightly.

"Come on, we need to make a move," Mia's aunt said. "I think Uncle Jack's getting restless waiting for us,"

Mia nodded, reaching up and taking the hat off before handing it over to you. You shook your head.

"Nah, you keep it kiddo, I've got hundreds." You give her a smile.

Mia walked forward, clinging onto you as she buried her head in your chest, you ignored the dull ache that flared up in your chest as you hugged her back, "I'm gonna miss you."

"I'll miss you too, kiddo," You say, lifting one hand to wipe at your eyes.

"Are you crying?" Mia asked softly.

"No." You answered, "I've got allergies."

You wait for Mia to let go before you do, you gave her a small smile, "See you later, a'right?" She nodded, quickly wiping her eyes.

"See you later Texas,"

The door shut quietly behind the two of them and you were enveloped once more in silence.

Whilst everyone was wrapping up the case, you were sitting in a hospital bed, bored out of your skull. With a sigh, you pushed yourself up, sneaking past the nurses and doctors as you made your way outside, wanting some fresh air.

You sat yourself down opposite the hospital in the grass, letting yourself pluck a blade of grass from the ground, running it through your fingers as you lost yourself in your thoughts.

You kept your eyes trained on the grass as Hotch sat down next to you. The pair of you sitting in silence for a moment. “Are you alright?”

“‘M fine, sir,” The answer rolls off your tongue. “Nothing to worry about,”

“If you want to get something off your chest, you can always talk to me,”

“I know, Hotch,” You said, “I just… struggle with the whole talkin’ about how you’re feelin’,”

Hotch nods in understanding, for someone who doesn’t talk about it, you sure do end up giving a lot away. You both sit in silence.

"I know people think I'm stupid," You mumble, staring intently at the blade of grass between your fingers as you spoke, "I know I have that Southern drawl," You exaggerate your accent slightly before continuing, "That I don't exactly talk like y'all. I know some just see me as some redneck, but I can hold my own. I ain't stupid. And I certainly ain't no bigot."

"I know, we all know that." Hotch replies.

"But you didn't." You pointed out before sighing, "Whatever, it doesn't matter..."

"We were concerned because there was no way could have known."

"You could've just trusted me," You said, “I have, in no way, given any of y’all a reason to believe that I am against anyone in that community. And I get it, I do, it just… stings, is all.”

Hotch doesn’t speak, unsure of what to actually say. Because he did jump to conclusions, they all did.

"I think if she didn't have any family I would have adopted her, or at least tried to, anway," Your eyebrows are furrowed, gaze deepening at the blade of grass as you tore it apart in your hands. "But, hey, she's happy, that's the main thing and her aunt seems like a lovely woman."

With that, you push yourself off of the grass, ignoring the ache that shoots through your body. Leaving Hotch sat on the curb with a frown as you limped back into the hospital for one final check-up before your flight.

You wipe your eyes with the back of your hand, “Fuckin’ allergies.”

#cowboy reader #x male reader #x reader #reader #male reader #criminal minds x male reader #criminal minds x reader #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #aaron hotchner #spencer reid #derek morgan #david rossi #bau x male reader #bau x reader #bau x cowboy reader #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds

1K notes · View notes

kiss-me-muchoo · 1 year

Text

𝐖𝐨𝐦𝐛 || 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲_ 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐡𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐩𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞𝐠 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐩 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬. 𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐞, 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐥𝐝.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬_𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐆𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐘, 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐜 𝐝𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡, 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭, 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝, 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐝. 𝐍𝐎 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃.

𝐀/𝐍_𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐖𝐨𝐦𝐛 𝐛𝐲 𝐌𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐳. 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨, 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐡, 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐘 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐈𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄.

✰ 𝙄𝙉𝘿𝙀𝙓 (𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚) (𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙨 𝙢.𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙤𝙤)

♪ ♫ 𝙋𝙀𝘿𝙍𝙊 𝙋𝙇𝘼𝙔𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏 (𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙮𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩)

「 𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐲: 𝐑𝐞𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐦𝐞, 𝐈 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐢𝐭 」 𝐄xtra 01

(𝙚𝙖𝙘𝙝 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙗𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙖𝙨 𝙖 𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙡𝙚)

You were gonna miss the summer. The heavy sun rays, the handmade ice cream Mrs. Montgomery made. Maria was not yelling for wasting hot water because the summer in Jackson was so extreme that the cold water turned a little warm.

But you were overreacting because it was September, and summer was at its peak in the town. Maybe it was the pregnancy hormones, of course.

You look at the street quietly. It’s Thursday, men are working, and women too. But since you’re entering the last trimester of pregnancy, your teaching shifts are becoming shorter .

You are seated in a rocking chair with a fan in your hand, trying to soothe the heat. A cold glass of lemonade in your other hand.

Everything was fine. After having one of the worst fights with Joel a little after arriving in Jackson, you discovered you were pregnant. Those days were hard, but soon the rainbow came. And you married the bravest man in town.

Joel still received bad looks for marrying and knocking up a young woman like you. He couldn’t care less, always proudly putting his hand around your waist or shoulder when you were out. Nobody knew how much you both went through.

The weekends were fantastic. Friday was your best chance to get a messy night with your husband after Ellie left to watch some movies. Saturdays were for decorating the nursery room for the baby.

Since nobody knew what gender would be, the room would be beige with salmon and olive green sparks.

And Sundays, we’re for church visits and visiting Tommy, Maria, and their baby.

However, this weekend, everything would go differently if Joel joined your plan.

“Hey, Ellie. How was school today, baby?” She shrugged calmly. You knew it was hard for her. She wasn’t used to having an ordinary life, and now…

“Good. I got a B on my homework. And I talked with some kids. But…” You nodded, opening your arms and inviting her to have a warm hug. Her head collapsed in your chest, and one of her hands landed on your swollen belly.

“I know. I know it’s hard. But it doesn’t matter; neither Joel nor I pressured you to have friends or be good at school. Time to time…” she wasn’t crying, but sure, she was emotional. “We are proud of you. Plus, Joel’s birthday is on Saturday. I need to get some fresh strawberries. Would you like to help me with the cake?”

“Hell yeah. But…I thought Joel was against flour and-“ you giggle. Happy to see Ellie smiling again.

“He is. But we won’t use flour. Only yogurt and eggs. It’ll be a healthy cake….”

“So the strawberries….” you try to bring up the issue, but Ellie is there to help you. You were feeling great to be seven months pregnant. You could sleep very well, sex was amazing in every position, and summer blessed you with elevated temperatures that only required you to wear sundresses.

“It’s only half an hour away from here. Free from infection, Maria said it was safe when Tommy took her some weeks ago” Ellie nodded, entering the house behind you. The girl wasn’t sure of the idea.

“But you shouldn’t go. Maybe Joel could go with Tommy…” you sighed. Everyone wanted to protect you, especially Joel. You were thankful to have a caring family again. But this was a one-time opportunity. You didn’t know if you would be alive for the next season of strawberries for Joel’s birthday. You didn’t know if the place would be full of infected by next year. It was a single opportunity to do something that would stay in your memories forever and Joel’s too.

“I know everyone’s gonna freak out when they hear about this. But I really want to do this. Remember that feeling of seeing the giraffe in Salt Lake?” The girl nodded. Of course, she remembered. She felt like a girl her age. It was one of those things that were shockingly beautiful now but before the outbreak was typical.

“That’s the feeling I have about this. And I would take you too. But Maria would definitely kill me,” Ellie giggled but seized after seeing your face grow in discontent.

“What?” She asked you. Inside the house, in the kitchen, it was nice because it was cold. But upstairs was hell. And the living room was hot but humid. Which wasn’t helping with your pain.

“I think the baby kicked and moved at the same time,” you managed to explain. Ellie was amused by your pregnancy. She found the process of growing a little human inside you extraordinary and disgusting. Initially, she was afraid that you or Joel would get rid of her after having a kid of your own. But now she was pretty sure not because she always felt welcome and part of the family.

“Maybe it’s turning upside down….” you nodded, smiling once the pain was gone. “See? It’s like an alien growing inside like you said.”

“If that kid comes up looking like the exact copy of Joel, I’ll be a pain in the ass for that old man,” you laugh. Ellie didn't cause much trouble in Jackson, she was a good kid, but you knew she had a violent nature inside her. However, since you arrived in Jackson six months ago, the only trouble she caused was inside the house. For example, leaving the lights on, the floor wet, making Joel almost slip and break his back, etc.

“You are making my man age three times faster than he should, Ellie” The girl winked and opened the kitchen door, heading towards the fridge to grab a cold glass of water.

“Don’t say that. It reminds the age gap between you two” Rolling your eyes, you start waving the fan in your hand to soothe the heat.

“A guy my age would never ever protect me for so long. A guy my age would have killed me after I got bit. A guy my age would have stopped to look after me when David and his cult took us. And a guy my age would have abandoned the baby and me.” Ellie sighed, tilting her head.

“I know. I’m sorry,” you nod, shaking your head. Trying to tell her that it was fine.

“It’s okay. We know it isn’t ideal. But it works, and it's the least of my worries today” She got closer to give you another hug, which you accepted.

After arriving in Jackson, Ellie started to show significant affection to you. Which was weird at the beginning, but now it felt normal.

—

“What are you doing?” You ask with a laugh when you see Joel painting a wall of the backyard in black paint. After eating dinner with Ellie, she went to do homework, and you decided to take a long nap. When you woke up, it was dark. The dishes were clean, so Joel must’ve had dinner, and when you smelled the fresh paint, you directly went out.

“Oh, hey…” he greeted, offering a sweet smile. You smiled, loving how often he was smiling now. He also looked physically better, less dark bags under his eyes, better-looking skin, and a friendly mood. “Does it smell a lot inside?”

“No, just at the kitchen entrance,” he nodded. Some seconds later, he had finished the whole wall. Well, just the lower half. Now you were confused looking at the border with two different colors. Joel noticed your confusion and stood up to get close to you.

“It's chalkboard paint. Tommy found it today at the stables. I thought it would be good for… the kid to have a place to draw” Your eyes water immediately, and you throw yourself at him to hug him. He receives your warm body and feels how dainty it’s the moment for you.

“Oh, Joel, you are going to be such a good father again”

Again, it replayed in his head. He was going to have another kid. In his fifties, away from Texas, without Sarah. He was scared, but everything was fine. Better than it was in the winter.

“You think I can do it?” He asks, letting out his insecurities. He grasps your hair, pushing your right cheek against his chest.

“I think you’ve already done it, love” He knows what you mean. A year of taking care of Ellie. A year of many deaths of people both of you knew. How fast things changed.

“I can’t believe this is happening again,” he said in disbelief. He wanted to stay the whole night holding you, trying to get inside his head that he had a house, a work, an adopted kid, and an unborn one. That you were his wife, telling him he would be an amazing father.

“I was thinking… Maybe tomorrow we could go and pick some strawberries outside. Maria was telling me about this field. She’s making Tommy and other men go pick up for the food storage,” he flinched away from you. And started to say no multiple times.

“Uhm…No?. You’re pregnant, y/n. And if Tommy and the others take them, Why should we go?” You sigh. Crossing your arms, resting them above your belly.

“It’s like half an hour away from here, Joel. It’s safe. It would be like a simple walk. You heard the doctor. She said I need to go on walks” The man started picking up the can of paint.

“I said no, y/n. We can walk inside the town, and I can make Tommy bring you a basket of strawberries next week”

He was right, but you got irritated easier than ever. He could see your eyes get teary again, your cheeks red from anger, and you groan, showing how annoyed you were.

“Baby…” he called as he watched you sprint inside the house. He sighed, putting his hands on his hips.

You took a shower without Joel, brushed your teeth with angry tears falling, and tucked inside the bed, grabbing your diary to write about the past days.

When you were almost finished writing how grumpy and close-minded Joel was, he went out of the bathroom with a towel around his hips.

You ignore him as you notice that he’s watching you. He lets out a little sigh and then proceeds to seat on the edge of the bed.

“We can go to the strawberry fields in the morning. But it has to be fast. We can’t stay past midday.” You stop writing to smile at him.

“Really?” He nodded, rolling his eyes. “ yeah. I spoke with Tommy, and he said it is very safe.”

“Thank you, thank you. Oh, I love you….” you crawl to hug him from behind, kissing his cheeks.

“Well, now spread those legs because that trip it ain’t gonna be free” You start laughing very hard after listening to him. He giggles too, but you obey him. And the air shifts, heating.

“Just for my old man” He rolled his eyes again. And began to kiss you deeply.

As you place your arms around his shoulders, he leans to end up topping you.

You love the feeling of his lips abusing yours, his hands caressing your belly. It’s perfect, just as the day ended.

—

In the morning, you leave a note for Ellie. You left some boiled eggs and fruit for her; hopefully, you would be home by midday.

You take a backpack with some sandwiches for breakfast and your medical kit. Knives and a gun in case of anything.

You walk to the stable where Joel is waiting for you. The cramps you felt the day before were still there. You kept saying it was the baby moving around your womb but deep down, you felt a bad omen about it.

You look at your handsome husband, and once he spots you, he places his thumb and index finger above the bridge of his nose.

“I’m not taking you if you’re wearing a skirt” You ignore him, walking past him to the little exit. You wouldn’t make an exit through the principal gate.

“Joel, I traveled a great distance throughout the country in a hospital gown and bare feet. Don’t tell me to go and get changed.”

“What if you get a scratch, or if we need to climb somewhere?” Exasperated, you stop walking to turn back.

“Gosh, Joel, it’s just a walk near the town. No mountains or hiking. It’s a firm trail” He helps you open the door, praying in silence that everything goes well.

Apparently, you were right. You followed Tommy's map, leading the way as Joel kept his rifle in position. The trail was easy, and Joel saw the fields in the blink of an eye.

“This is amazing,” you whispered, in a trance, looking at the beauty nature gave you and your partner. Joel had a smile when he looked at you. And he regretted saying no to you at the beginning. You looked adorable in a long skirt and a white tee that looked a little like a crop top with your belly in the middle. At that moment, he wished he could have taken a picture of you. At least he would keep the image in his memories forever.

“ We should have breakfast here” he opted, to which you agreed. Both took a seat on a giant rock and you took both sandwiches out of your backpack.

“You shouldn’t be eating spicy stuff” Joel said after feeling the first taste of spicy boiled eggs.

“I know, but it’s one of the biggest cravings I’m having right now” he chuckled, looking at how you devoured the sandwich.

“You would have loved Indian food then. There was something called Tandoori chicken that I loved to have on takeout with Tommy back in Texas. Sarah hated the smell of yogurt and spices, but Tommy always asked for the spiciest option” You had noticed that Joel was more open about his past now. You liked it, and you enjoyed hearing about his younger years.

“And Mexican food. I was a friend of an old lady that owned a restaurant. She loved feeding me when I was a teenager and nobody could take care of Sarah” You smile fondly.

“I would love to try other types of food, but I’m thankful for this. However… How was she as a baby?” Joel was surprised by your question. He knew you avoided asking about his daughter because of him. But he was ready to share more.

“The fussiest baby. Always demanding her formula on time. She had the brightest chocolate eyes and a dazzling curls crowning her head.” The way he speaks with so much love, it melts your heart.

“And she loved to take baths. She wouldn’t stop giggling and splashing around everywhere” He looks at your face, noticing how your smile has changed. Soon he realized he might have sounded like he had high expectations for the new baby. He knew nothing would be the same. He already loved you and the new baby and knew that meant new memories.

“Our baby will bring new memories. And this time, I’ll have you all the way….” He kisses your forehead, and you nod, smiling.

“I just pray it comes healthy. Now I realize the first months I was feeding him spoiled food” Both of you laugh as you finish the sandwiches with orange juice.

“The doctor said everything was fine. Even Freya said you looked fine” You roll your eyes at the mention of Freya. The woman who flirted with Joel ruined your pregnancy's secret months ago. “Shut up. Don’t ruin our morning with Freya.”

“Yeah, right. Sorry, baby,” he accepted, giggling. You frowned a little after feeling an unexpected cramp. Joel quickly places his hand on your bump, worried.

“What are you feeling?” You shake your head. Placing a hand in the air, trying to comfort him.

“Nothing, just a cramp” When you stood up, you felt a heavier pressure on your lower belly. But you pretended it was nothing.

“Are you sure we should keep going?” You nodded at your husband’s question.

“Yeah. It’s fine. C’mon,” he was unsure. But followed you after you started to keep going.

Ten minutes later, the cramps increased. But you finally were in the strawberry fields. You start cutting strawberries and flowers to place them inside the basket you brought.

“What if the fruit is infected?” You roll your eyes, taking out a transparent bottle with a white liquid. “I made this natural wash with vinegar and baking soda. If it’s infected, the strawberry will start erupting bubbles.”

“Smart girl…” you wink cheekily, proceeding to lean further. The strawberries were clean so far.

You don’t know what happened. It just felt like something was being pulled from your insides. And when Joel turned to see you, you had dropped the knife and basket, landing on your knees.

“What happened?’ He yelled worriedly, running to sit behind you.

“I don’t-, ouch. Joel! This hurts…” his heart pounded faster. He helped you to sit correctly. Unconsciously, you leaned on your elbows and opened your legs a little.

Joel gasped, worried about his assumption. Your legs were exposed, and the hem of your skirt was pooled around your pelvis and belly. Some strawberries were mashed on your legs from the pressure of your fall.

“Breathe, y/n. It might be some cramps, that’s all,” you nod. But a minute later, you are sweating and yelling in pain.

Frustrated to see you in pain, he cleaned your forehead and helped you to accommodate.

He slipped his hand under your dress and made contact with your folds being widely swollen. He slipped his fingers inside you and opened his eyes once he felt something obstructing the way.

It was the baby, coming very fast. He pulled down your underwear making you hold his hand in shock.

“Fucking hell. This can’t be happening right now” You opened your eyes, confused at him. “Joel, what?

“You are birthing, y/n” Your eyes grew wetter, and you started shaking your head in denial.

“No, no. I have two months left. Our baby is coming in November,” Joel sighed. He couldn’t understand why it was happening so fast. He thought your delivery would be slower. But it seemed to be happening super fast.

“I think the baby has other plans, my love. And we can’t go back like this,” he accepted, trying to be as calm as possible. He had to help you, not stress you out.

“No. I’m not having my baby here. Help me to get up. Let’s go.”

“I can feel the head already. There’s no time, and you can’t retain it. It’s dangerous.” You cry in pain. You just sob for a few minutes. Joel grabs your hands for you to squeeze him as much as you want. But you know there is no other option, you are going to be brave for Joel and the baby.

“Okay. I-goddammit. Hold my hands, Joel. I think I’m gonna start pushing” He nods, and you can see the nervousness on his face. You soothe him with a weak smile.

“It’s okay. We’re safe at least. You can’t scream so much but try to relax, love” he lets you know. You nod, frowning as the pressure increases. You can feel the baby sliding through your cervix and ripping your insides.

“I’m gonna see how it’s going. Okay?” You nod, yelling. He lets go of one of your hands to push your skirt a little more.

He sighed, shocked to see half of the baby’s head out. He wasn’t present at Sarah's delivery. He had to wait outside, and now, seeing the graphic scene didn’t scare him, but it was intense for sure.

“The head is almost completely out. You’re doing amazing, baby,” you cry harder. Joel feels useless and realizes a tiny human will be there in minutes.

Five minutes later, you are shaking and screaming nonstop. Joel holds both of your hands again.

“Just a little more, mama. Breathe…” You gasp for air one last time before pushing as hard as possible. Both of you look at each other when the cries of the baby begin.

Joel drops your hands to catch the little human, and you have the baby in your chest in the blink of an eye.

“Oh God…” you sob happily as you kiss the baby’s head. Crying, you start counting the fingers on the hands and toes.

“Five fingers on both hands and toes,” you say with a giant smile” Then, you finally notice it. “Joel, it’s a girl.”

Joel Miller instantly tears.

“A girl…” he whispers, looking at the little squirming crybaby in your arms. She’s incredibly tiny. Yet, she didn’t look like a seven-month-baby.

“I don’t think she was seven months…” you read his mind. He shakes his head, the baby has dark brown hair, she has matted hair and she’s pale as every newborn is. “Me neither. I think she was just small.”

“She’s perfect,” he managed to say after some seconds of silence, wiping his tears away.

“Cut the cord, please,” you plead to him. He nods, grabs a clean knife from his backpack, and proceeds to cut it. Your legs, shirt, and skirt are drenched in blood and fluids. But you can’t stop crying with happiness.

“I can’t fucking believe this…” he says, leaning to kiss your lips. The baby has stopped crying. She’s trying to adjust to the light and yawning.

“We need to go back. She needs to be checked, and I need to push the placenta. It’s already past two” He knows you’re right. But he doesn’t want to make you walk. He wants you to rest. He realized you pushed the baby in less than forty minutes, and it felt like a second.

“You just pushed a baby. I think you should rest” You shake your head, already reeling and anxious because the baby needs to be urgently checked.

“You know we can’t stay. Could you grab her?” He nods, but he’s terrified to hold her own daughter. You hand her, but he’s taking his jacket off. He wrapped her with the jacket and that’s when it hit him.

He once had a daughter and now he had another daughter. You were a mother. He was a father. Exactly a year after he rejected your suggestion of having a family with him.

He smiles at the baby, finally surrendering and falling in love with her.

He doesn’t want to let her go, like never.

“Oh, y/n. Stop it, I’ll help you and then you stand up” he hurries to stop you from trying to stand up by yourself. With his free arm, he acts as a support for you. You sigh when you’re on your feet, knowing it will be a long way home.

“You’re so brave and-. God, I love you,” he admits, making you smile at his cuteness. You love the sight of him holding the baby. You are going to get used to it.

“I love you too, so much” He kisses your forehead. “Now, let’s fucking go home.”

Like you had come from the war with Joel, the thirty minutes walk became an hour and a half. By 4:00pm, you were in Jackson. The stables are empty, and once you make it outside, just by casualty, Maria is there talking with Rosalie and Rae. The couple who became your only friends.

Rae spots you and gasps in shock. The group turns around, and once they see you covered in blood and Joel holding a bundle in a jacket, they run toward you two. And they see the damn strawberries too.

“Holy shit. What the fuck happened? Rosalie says as she brings a wheelchair,” the woman nods, running.

“I gave birth,” you announce. Some people gather near you and Joel. You know they’re gonna be talking about your baby for days.

“I can’t believe it,” Maria says in disbelief. Getting closer, Joel leans and uncovers the baby’s face. Maria smiles widely.

“She’s beautiful. Congratulations…” Joel nods, and you thank to see Rosalie with Tommy bringing a wheelchair.

“Well damn. Let me see me….” Tommy starts but ends because he doesn’t know the gender.

“Niece, Tommy. She’s a girl,” a couple of brothers hug, and you feel happy to see them like that.

“Yes, she's a Miller. That hair comes from our mom” You feel like you’re gonna tear again.

“I think we can keep talking in the clinic,” Rosalie said, hugging and congratulating you.

“Someone, please call Ellie,” you say to the group. They nod, and you feel sleepy as Rae pushes you into the wheelchair.

—

You wake up to the sound of laughter. When you open your eyes. Everyone is there, in your little room inside the clinic.

“Look, baby. Mommy is awake” You smile at Rosalie, holding her. Everyone turns to see you finally awake.

“We’ll give you two some privacy. But not so much. We are outside,” Tommy lets you know. And once they leave, Joel helps you with your gown.

You place the baby in your chest, and without notice, she latches on your left nipple. It hurts a little, and you wonder how she could bite and make you feel like your nipple was getting ripped off when she didn’t had teeth.

“Poor baby, you must've been starving,” you coo at her. Joel takes a seat beside you, looking in adoration at the tiny girl.

“We haven’t named her…” he says. You won’t last too much without answering. You though about for months, avoiding to tell Joel because you were afraid of his reaction. But it’s time now…

“Joel, I know this is a whole new chapter for you. I know this means too many things to you. However… I was thinking of a name that could rhyme with… her” Joel looks at you curiously. So you continue.

“What do you think of Cerise?” Joel nods instantly. He kissed you again, and you felt relief after his reaction.

“Sounds good. Cerise Miller, right?” The man keeps nodding.

You finally pay full attention to your baby. She’s wearing a pink onesie. Although it's hot, she has long sleeves and small gloves that prevent her from scratching her face. Her skin tone starts looking more like Joel’s, and you love it. Cerise stops eating and you start burping her.

“Thank you for everything you have done for me. I will always owe you, y/n” You cup his cheek in awe. Brushing your thumb against his patchy beard, he closes his eyes.

“I owe you a lot too. We will pay each other for the rest of our lives” Before anyone can say anything else, the door slowly opens, revealing Ellie entering.

“Hey, bug,” you greet her. She looks shocked.

“Holy shit. You gave birth in the wild? Damn, y/n, God was afraid of making you immortal, right?” Joel and you start laughing. She comes closer, and once baby Cerise burps, you spin her to show her to Ellie.

“Oh, she’s so cute. But there’s no way she’s a seven-month baby” Joel shakes her head.

“She isn’t. The doctor said she’s spent nine months inside” Ellie shrugs at Joel’s words. You also look at him, probably he discovered it while you were sleeping.

“Guess she’s just a tiny baby,” you explain, smiling. Looking at Ellie’s curiosity, you hand the baby to her.

“Want to hold her?” Ellie nods nervously. “Help me, Joel”

The man rolls his eyes and makes the girl take a seat before joining her. You look at them, and it melts your heart.

“Yeah, you got it” You smile at Ellie, and she replies with another smile. She looks good with the baby in her arms.

“What’s her name?” Joel keeps rubbing the tiny hairs of the girl’s delicate skull.

“Cerise,” Joel lets her know. Ellie nodded, smiling at the baby and how she was soundly asleep.

“It’s pretty.” There’s nothing else to be said. The four of you just stay there, like a family.

—-

You must sleep in the living room that first night because you couldn’t go upstairs. Ellie and Joel make you feel comfortable, they put Cerise’s bassinet beside you, and Joel holds you tightly the whole night. Cerise only woke up two times. And she didn't cry so much.

You woke up at 10:00 am again. Cerise was sleeping. You carefully took a shower and the used the bandages Maria handed you. It was an Asian method that she used, and she felt like herself again in the third month post-baby. After a little routine of making yourself presentable, you quietly started baking Joel’s cake. You saved a little basket after Cerise decided to introduce herself to the world. You had invited everyone to celebrate, only that it was a surprise for Joel.

It was his birthday.

When the cake is in the oven, Cerise starts moving. Joel starts waking up too, but you send him to sleep again,

“It’s okay, handsome. Go back to sleep,” he protests. “But Cerise-“

“She’s fine. Please go back to sleep” he spent a significant part of the night storing your milk. Apparently, eating oats for months increased your supplies.

He nods, going back to sleep, so you sigh, thankful. Cerise is awake, fussy, and demanding attention.

“Good morning, gorgeous,” you fed her quietly. After noticing she was sweating too much, you changed her into a strap onesie of butterflies with adorable matching socks and gloves. Ellie enters the kitchen.

“Smells like cake… wait. You made the cake without me?” You nod. “Sorry, I can’t go upstairs. And if I called you, Joel would be here already”

“Fine. Just because you brought Cerise to the world yesterday,” you giggle.

“But perhaps you could help me decorate it,” Ellie nods excitedly.

—

Joel enters the kitchen and is greeted by a surprising sight. You and Ellie look like you were manipulating a crime scene, and Joel discovered it. But there was a medium cake on the table, besides Cerise and her Moses.

“What is going on?” He asked.

“Happy birthday, old man,” Ellie said happily. Joel inspected the cake.

Oh yeah, today was his birthday. And it was the first birthday he had celebrated since the outbreak.

“Happy birthday, Joel,” you hugged him tightly. He stood quiet but wrapped his arms around you, feeling your stomach and back bandaged.

“It’s been twenty-one years since I celebrated it….” You knew. Even Ellie did.

“We know, love. You deserve this….” you say, brushing his arms.

“Plus, it's a flourless cake. And Cerise has another present for you” Joel looks suspiciously at Ellie but smiles kindly.

“My smart and beautiful wife…” he whispered in your ear. Making you blush.

Ellie brought a little brown box, and you took Cerise out of her moses to pretend she was handing Joel’s gift.

“Oh god,” he said, laughing, looking at his baby in an adorable onesie and pretending to hold the box.

“You might want to take a seat” He frowned, confused, but followed your suggestion.

He opened the box, and after encountering a layer of old newspapers, there was a little frame in the shape of two circles.

A picture of baby Sarah was placed on the left side, and on the right side, a recent photo of Cerise was there.

“How?-“ Joel was shocked to see a picture of Sarah. He couldn’t save anything that day.

“Tommy. He had one in his wallet that day….” Joel crashed his head on your chest, hugging you again. “Ellie suggested the idea, and Tommy helped us” Ellie was holding Cerise when she got closer to give Joel some comforting pats on the back.

He surprised her by also hugging her and Cerise on the way.

“Thank you…” Ellie felt blissed by that moment.

But everyone found the moment perfect. Especially Joel, who noticed the significant presence of the girls he had in his arms.

“Oh, my girls,” he accepted, feeling Cerise’s tiny head by his heart. Where Sarah also was and would be forever.

But now, he had Ellie, Cerise, and you, the woman he would never let go.

________________________

Taglist: @aonungs-tsahik @buckysmainhxe @amethystwonders11 @kyuupidwrites @bookfrog242 @acornacreacure @enbywan @ipadkidsworld @my-obsession-spn @happycupcakeenthusiast @thesameoldboo @spideysimpossiblegirl @tubble-wubble @flightlexsbird @randomstory56 @mimento-more @royalty-cashinout @ayamenimthiriel @eddies-bat-tattoos @kassieesworld @damnzelsoul @floffytofu @rintheemolion @coldheartedmar @woofgocows @d4rno @marantha @floralsightings @pedro-pascal-3nthusiast @holb32 @harperdoodle

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal

1K notes · View notes