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#mom is telling me i can move out early if i want
ladykailitha · 2 days
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Of Butterflies and Backstrokes Part 5
Hey guys!! Things are finally starting to move in this story, I'm not sure how much longer we have, but I just started Eddie's training, so whooo!!
In this we have Eddie being dumb, fixing it, and then apologizing properly! He can be taught!
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4
~
Robin smacked the back of Steve’s head as she walked past. “No staring. It’s creepy!”
Steve ducked his head and blushed. He had been caught staring so many times today that, yeah, it was starting to be a little creepy now. But in all fairness, Eddie was staring right back. A thought that sent Steve spiraling. But like in a ‘oh shit, that’s hot!’ way.
Which he really, really needed to tamp down on, because yes, the guy was eighteen, but like barely.
“You should just go talk to him,” Robin encouraged gently. Because for all her teasing, she knew how important it was for Steve to talk to him about his swimming.
Steve nodded. He had time until his next class. He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. He walked up to Eddie and flashed him his patented Harrington smile.
“Hey, you’re Eddie, right?” he said warmly. “Robin tells me you like to swim on Saturdays, yeah?”
Eddie blinked at him for a moment. “Um, hi. Yup! That’s me. My mom used to call me her little fish.”
Steve grinned. He liked that. He wished his mom had taken that kind of interest in his swimming. “I saw you swimming when I was helping Joyce set up for the party last weekend and you were really good! Did you compete in high school?”
“Nah,” Eddie said with a shrug. “I wanted to, but I couldn’t get someone to take me that early in the morning so I stopped. Competed in middle school, though. I was decent enough, I guess.”
Steve was shocked. To have to stop just when you hit your stride must have been quite the blow.
“That fucking sucks, man,” Steve said with a grimace. He scratched his cheek thoughtfully. “You ever think about competing on the national level? Because I really think you could.”
Eddie rolled his eyes with a scoff. “Yeah, right. I couldn’t afford the coach let alone all the traveling I’d have to do to make it to meets. I’m going to have to pass on that one.”
“There’s actually a program here for people who can’t afford it,” Steve hedged. “Robin used it when we both first started out.” He was fighting back the urge to start biting his nails.
Eddie’s eyes narrowed and Steve gulped. “Is that so?” He nodded. “Well ain’t that nice. Still not interested.”
Steve wished the floor would swallow him or that pool would suddenly flood or that he’d get a brain aneurysm and die, right there on the spot. He pursed his lips together and nodded with his whole upper body. He turned on his heel and walked away.
When he was about to the other side of the pool, Eddie called out, “Who would even want to coach me?”
Steve turned around with a grin. “I would.” Then he spun on his toes and walked out of the pool area to the cool fresh air of the hallway.
~
Once Steve was out of the pool area and into the hall, he had a full on panic attack. He sank to the floor and held his head in his hands. Why the fuck did he offer to coach Eddie? He didn’t know Eddie, he was afraid of deep water, and he hadn’t even talked to Joyce yet.
It was a real mess now, but the words just forced themselves from him and now he wants to gobble them back up. Well maybe they’ll just avoid each other from now on. They had done a pretty good job up to this point, they could just continue as normal and forget all about how Steve made a fool of his himself.
Then slowly he began to come out of his panic attack to the sounds of soft words and the gentle rubbing of his wrists with their thumbs. His breathing evened, his heart rate dropped, and his eyes fluttered open.
The eyes looking back at him were warm chocolate brown and deeply concerned. The angel in front of him said something but Steve couldn’t hear. Then all at once all the sounds came rushing back into the hall. And suddenly there were more people in the hall with him than he thought. In addition to Eddie who was the one holding his hands, Robin and Joyce were there too.
“I think he’s coming around,” Joyce said gently as Steve’s eyes focused on her. “Hey, there, Steve. Are you okay now?”
Steve gulped, nodding. He was feeling better. In fact he didn’t have a pounding headache like he usually had after an episode. “My head doesn’t hurt.” He looked over at Robin in confusion. “Why doesn’t it hurt?”
“Uh...” Eddie said hesitantly. “I might have something to do with that. I used some calming techniques my friend’s dad showed me.”
Steve turned to him, mouth open in awe. “Oh. Thank you.” He didn’t know what to do with that because technically it was his conversation with Eddie which caused the panic attack in the first place. But maybe that’s why Eddie helped, because he knew he’d caused it. That was a nice thought, Steve supposed.
Eddie smiled and stood back up. “I have to get back to work. You take care of yourself, okay Stevie?”
Steve nodded and Eddie slapped his hands on his knees, standing up. He muttered goodbye to the two women and then wandered off.
As Robin helped him to his feet, she said dryly, “I take it the conversation didn’t go well.”
He barked out a laugh causing Joyce to look back and forth between them in confusion. So Steve put her out of her misery. “I was telling him that he was good enough of a swimmer to compete, but I think he thought I was mocking him or something, because he kinda blew me off.”
He rubbed his temples for a moment before adding. “I even offered to coach him.”
Joyce blinked at him for a moment. “You offered what now?”
When he looked up both Robin and Joyce were looking at him with large, wide eyes and slack jaws. “Yeah, that’s kinda what started the panic attack if I’m honest. I know I am like the worst person for the job with all my...” he waved his hand helplessly. Then he snapped his fingers. “Issues. Anyway. It was nice of him to help me out after all that.”
“Dingus...” Robin said with a heavy sigh. “What were you going to do if he accepted?”
Steve grimaced and ducked his head. “Have you help me?” He looked up at her through his eyelashes and batted them, pouting.
Robin pushed his shoulder. “Disgusting!” Then she gave him a huge hug and kiss on the cheek. “Of course I’d help you.”
“I think it would be perfect,” Joyce blurted out. They both turned and looked at her. “This place could use the publicity if I’m honest. There are other pools in Indy that have been bringing in the bigger names. So if Eddie accepts and starts training under five time gold medal champion Steve Harrington...”
“Then this place could start bringing in the big names again,” Robin said. “Not to say that Steve isn’t a big name of his own,” she added when Steve’s face twisted into something like offense.
Steve shook his head. “Which isn’t going to happen because he said no.”
Joyce and Robin sighed. There was that. But they knew they shouldn’t go trying to pressure Eddie into it. Plus, despite how good he was there was no telling he’d be on par or better than his younger peers.
Steve and Robin left Joyce standing there, pondering her dilemma.
~
Eddie chewed on the inside of his cheek thoughtfully. He was grateful that the technique worked, but he was pretty sure that he had caused the attack in the first place. Which was... not good. He could have handled the offer to have him trained to compete a little better. Steve was paying him a compliment and he threw it back in his face as charity. He didn’t need charity not from no one.
There was no two ways about it. He was going to have to apologize. Which was never his strong suit. But he’d do it. He just wasn’t going to take Steve up on his offer. He would see about staying on here as paid help because then he could still have access to his beloved pool.
It took him a couple of days but finally their schedules matched up and Eddie was on his break and Steve had time between classes again.
“Um, hey,” he said timidly, sauntering up to Steve. “I just wanted to apologize for being a bitch on Monday. I was rude and that wasn’t fair.”
A slow smile spread out over Steve’s face. “Thanks. I did just spring it on you without an preamble, so...”
Eddie laughed. “Yeah, there was that. But it still was mean and I should have been nicer.”
“Well, you made up for it by helping me with the panic attack afterwards,” Steve said. “I’d say that makes us even.”
“A panic attack I’m pretty sure I caused.”
Steve winced, confirming the worst of Eddie’s suspicion on that one. Steve rubbed his chin thoughtful. “I’ll tell you what, if you teach Robin and Joyce that technique you used to pull me out of my panic attack, then we’ll be even.”
Eddie smiled that sweet closed mouth smile that melted Steve’s insides when he saw it. “Sure thing I can do that. On Saturday before the crew swim. I’ll teach them both.”
Steve’s shoulders relaxed. That was going to be so useful, having multiple people know how to get him out of an attack would make it easier for him to go out in public. Something that was very limited after the incident in Beijing.
“That’ll be great, thanks.”
“You should come too,” Eddie suggested. “I know you don’t like being in the pool, but you could come hang out and have a little fun for a change.”
Steve gasped dramatically. “What do you mean? Isn’t teaching beginning classes meant to be fun?”
Eddie’s eyes went wide. It took him two seconds long than it should have to realize that Steve was joking him. He pushed Steve’s shoulder playfully.
“At least with us,” he teased, “we won’t try and drown you, deliberately or otherwise.”
Steve tilted his head to side and looked at him in confusion. Where the urge to bite those cheeks came from, Eddie will deny knowing until his last breath. “I saw that snotty teenaged little shit try to pull you into the pool. That’s fucked up at hell.”
Steve’s smile was blinding. “Fair enough. I like getting to sleep in on Saturdays, but we’ll see.”
Eddie grinned back. “I never used to get up this early for school. But ya know, keeping out of jail is pretty inspiring.”
“I could see that, yeah,” Steve agreed. “It was the one downside being on the swim team in high school.”
“You went to a regular high school?” Eddie asked tilting his head. “I would have thought after getting fifth in your first Olympics you would have gone to a special school for kids that are huge in sports or whatever?”
Steve blinked at him for a moment. “Do they have schools like that?”
“They do for like actors and shit,” Eddie said with a shrug. “So I assumed they would have something similar for the jocks.”
Steve laughed. “Yeah, no. That would have been preferable.” He shook his head. “But no, it’s much more cut throat that than that. Pretty much, schools try and poach students from other schools to make the best sports teams.”
Eddie’s eyebrows shot up. “Wait, really?”
“Yep!” Steve said beaming at him. He looked up at the clock on the wall. “Look, my next class is about to start. So I really should get going. Especially with Joyce’s son in the class, I don’t want to be late.”
“Why is he starting so late?” Eddie asked. “I would have thought with Joyce being in charge of the rec center and his older brother literally being a trainer too, he would have been in the tots class.”
Steve nodded. “She didn’t get the manager position until five years ago and Will was afraid of the water by then. So they just waited until he was ready.”
“So he’s ready now?” Eddie asked curiously.
“Mhmm,” Steve hummed. “All his friends are going to be in the class with him, so he ready to hop in the pool with them.”
Eddie smiled. “That’s cute.”
That surprised a huff of laughter out him. “Sure is. But don’t tell him that. He’s at the age where cute is akin to baby and well...”
“He’s too old for that?” Eddie finished.
“Yeah.”
“I feel that,” Eddie agreed. “Have fun in your class, and remember you can always make it look like an accident.”
Steve laughed out right at that and waved goodbye. Eddie watched him go feeling better about the whole panic attack thing. Now all he had to do was make sure it never happened again. Or at least not by his own big fucking mouth.
~
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tgmsunmontue · 3 days
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Season to Taste - 19/? WIP
Explicit Hangster - Celebrity Chef Bradley and Naval Aviator Jake Seresin who have a relationship spanning the globe before they realize how tightly bound they are to one another. Heading into this little world.
PROLOGUE/ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE TEN ELEVEN TWELVE THIRTEEN FORTEEN FIFTEEN SIXTEEN SEVENTEEN EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
                “I’m not calling my restaurant Leonardo’s, that sounds…”
                “Like you have no imagination? Why are you trying to pretend that you have an imagination?”
                “Tartaruga Blu,” Leandro supplies, and his lip is twitching like it’s a joke and Bradley starts laughing.
                “Yeah… The blue turtle. Sure. That works,” Bradley says with a laugh.
                “Wait, why is that funny? It’s actually not a bad name.”
                “Do you know why my nickname is Leonardo?”
                “I… I thought it was because it was close to Leandro?”
                “No. He turn up and eat pizza, Every day. Nothing but pizza. Like hungry teenage American.”
                “It was the cheapest thing on the menu,” Bradley offers, a little embarrassed remembering how he’d pretty much subsisted on one food group for a few weeks.
                “And when you come to us, you are sad. Blue. Now, you are not sad. Much better.”
                “Huh. Okay. Well, tartaruga is easy enough for people to say, and blu conjures up cordon bleu so fine dining is sort of implied. I think we have the name.”
…            …            …
                He wakes up to something buzzing and he groans, shoves his head into the warmth of Jake’s neck but he’s already moving away, reaching for his phone, the source of the buzzing and Bradley makes a dissatisfied grunt and Jake, because he’s an asshole, laughs at him.
                “Clearly not a morning person huh?”
                He grunts again, because working late nights in a kitchen means he usually gets to sleep in. Perk of being the head chef and leaving the early morning prep to sous chefs instead. Jake, annoyingly, seems to somehow be both an early morning person and a bit of a night owl. He hears a sharp intake of breath, forces himself to open his eyes to peer in the half-light at Jake, who is staring at his phone with a broken expression Bradley doesn’t know how to decipher.
                “Shit, my mom is having a good day. I have to go.”
                Then he’s scrambling for clothes and Bradley wants to suggest that he maybe has a shower but he keeps his mouth shut. This is the first he’s heard Jake even mention his mom, but the good day tells him more than Jake probably realizes or meant to tell. Jake seems more happy than sad and Bradley knows it’s only a matter of time before he finds out exactly what might be going on. He still feels a little emotionally drained after pretty much running through his entire life story the day before, not really realizing how sad and tragic it might appear to an outsider. He thinks he's got a good life.
                “Go. I’ll see you later.”
                “Yeah. Shit. I’ll come back and pick you up. Or I’ll let you know if the plans change.”
                “Of course. I’m meeting Rickard at ten. Don’t worry about me.”
…            …            …
                Jake has a system and he sticks to it pretty strictly; he sees his mom as soon as he can after he gets home from being deployed, and then again day he leaves, regardless of what she might be like. Whether she recognizes him or not, he needs to go and visit her no matter how much it hurts. Then he spends every day in between hoping that he gets a message from his dad saying she’s having a good day. He sometimes gets two days while he’s home if he’s lucky, none if he’s not.
                A good day is his mom remembering that she has six kids. A really good day is when she remembers that they’re grown and that some of them may have kids themselves. He doesn’t care what kind of good day it is, because his dad has sent him a message and he’s in his truck and driving to the house with his blood and brain fizzing, getting out of his truck and striding up the path and entering the code for the gate around the garden. His dad is sitting on the porch swing nursing a cup of coffee and Jake takes all the steps in one go, his dad is standing, placing the coffee cup on the ground and holding his arms open.
                “Jake.”
                “Dad, hi.” The hug his father gives him is solid and warm and Jake lets himself savor it, glad that he’s here for this good day, and not somewhere else in the world.
                “Maria and Olivia are already inside.”
                Jake nods, because that makes sense, they both live the closest, also on the farm. Sandra and Amanda will have kids to organize, which he expects Nicola to be the next to arrive. He takes in a deep breath and steels himself for his mom not having any idea who he is, even though he knows it’s unlikely. He steps forward and sees both Maria and Olivia smile at him reassuringly and his stomach unclenches a little. Better than just a good day then.
                “Hey mom…”
                “Jake! Come here and give me a hug. Oh… my baby…”
                He goes and hugs her, something he doesn’t always get when he sees her, not when she has no idea who he is. This soothes some of that though, and she’s staring at him in wonder, like she can’t believe just how big he’s grown.
                “Maria was telling me you’ve got a boyfriend…”
                A flare of annoyance goes through him and he catches it, flashes his annoyed eyes at Maria and she at least grimaces apologetically.
                “Yeah, I do.”
                “Oh I’m so happy to hear that sweetheart. Do you have a photo?”
                For the briefest of moments he thinks about bringing Leo here, introducing him to his mom, but dismisses it just as quickly. He’ll have to explain to Leo exactly what the deal is of course, and he knows it’s only fair but it also feels odd, thinking about sharing this with someone outside of immediate family. Introductions can happen later, although of course Maris has a photo to show her. Creeper.
                It always becomes festive, gathering and celebrating the fact that they’re all there. They take photo after photo. He tries not to cry as his mom holds Lincoln and talks to Amanda about what it was like having six children all running around. He can’t help but think how cruel it is for their mom to be here, alive and physically well, but absent nearly all of the time. Maria and Olivia prepare lunch, leaving and coming back with more food.
                “She’ll be very tired tonight,” his dad remarks, watching as she reads over the end-of-year school reports of Sandra’s kids.
                “Yeah,” Jake agrees, because it’s a pattern now that they’re all familiar with. She has a good day and then she crashes, her brain and body just going into a reset rest-mode and she sleeps for at least twelve hours after good days. She usually starts fading around two or three in the afternoon and they’ll all feel a little emotionally raw for a couple of days.
                “So, I’ll be able to make dinner tonight.”
                Well shit.
…            …            …
                He’s got so much food from Rickard he really hopes Maria won’t be insulted that he’s going to turn up with it all. He’s made the promised chocolate cake, along with a large salad because he’s a little nervous and he has to keep his hands busy.
                “Hi. Sorry for running off so abruptly this morning…”
                “It’s fine. Family is important.”
                “Yeah. It is.”
                “Everything okay?” Bradley asks, despite knowing that it’s not. Jake sucks in a deep breath and then blows it out slowly and Bradley just watches, wants to give Jake the space and time he needs to formulate whatever answer he wants to give him.
                “My mom has early onset dementia. She… it started when I was around ten or eleven, and progressed pretty quickly. My dad looks after her pretty much full time, because he’s the only person she hasn’t forgotten at all. The moved back into the original farmhouse, because my mom remembers it. It’s uh… it’s a lot.”
                Bradley blinks. Blinks again.
                “Holy shit.”
                “Yeah.”
                “So today… when you said she was having a good day…”
                “Today was a very good day. She remembered she had kids and that we were all adults. Good days are just when she remembers she has kids at all…”
                “What a fucking roller coaster of a day. Anything I can do?”
                “No. Well. Could I just get a hug?”
                Bradley doesn’t even have to think, is stepping forward and wrapping his arms around Jake and pulling him into his arms, feels him slump against him almost immediately and he just holds on tighter. It’s nice to just hold him, that in just holding him he’s giving Jake what he needs even if a part of him is already sad that there are going to be times when this is what Jake’s going to need and he won’t be there to give it to him. He’ll find other ways.
                “Plus my dad is now coming to dinner.”
                “Uh. Okay. Should I be worried?”
                “No. My dad’s a softie. Hell, it might actually help keep my sisters in line having him there. Just… it’s going to be a weird dinner maybe.”
                “That’s okay. I can deal with weird.”
TWENTY
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lilgynt · 1 year
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i’m soooo talented i can cry about a fake birthday’s party almost a month after my birthday
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#personal#my dad was having a delusion about my birthday and i was home alone tee hee#no so get off early from work bc i have to go in tomorrow but hey that’s some overtime#anyway so i get home and watch dad so my mom and the lady living with us can go grab dinner plus relax#but like 3 hours in and my dads having a delusional about my birthday#so i call my mom bc i can’t tell like hey surprise brithday dinner or and she’s IMMEDIATELY like i’m on my way#like okay. not what i asked. and then i asked and she’s like no he’s just crazy#come back and my dads pushed his chair out and is just walking and i’m like oh fuck not again#so anyway think she’s on her way home from a twenty minutes location#30 minutes pass and she’s still not here and dads getting worse#he’s demanding to go into my room to get my gifts m#btw my room is a mess bc i haven’t had time to clean since getting a new job actually :) and also moving out and back in#so i’m like worried one he’s gonna break soemthing of mine or hurt himself and he won’t fucking listen that he can’t go in#we compromise it works out#then he’s demeanding to go outside to get in and im like dad we’re inside the house already#and he’s insisting about the catering company and how i always have to plan my own stuff and never have fun and he wants this perfect#for me which like. great sentiment. i’m crying and arguing bc you’re not helping me#aka sitting down and he’s getting upset with me and it’s like i cannot give you the impossible#mom comes home and i chew her out in front of the lady living with us so classy on my part#but i go back and im like im not trying to be mean to you. but you need to help me if you want my help#don’t say ur on ur way unless ur own ur way. and she’s like well you know the place and im like then say ur in line. well i had to get a#tip. then say ur getting a tip. don’t say ur own ur way unless you are#and i thought she was sad so i’m like i love you but i just need this behavior to stop#and she’s starts laughing bc i’m treating her like she’s my kid and i’m forgetting myself#and i’m telling her well you’re forcing me to#and im like i can move out again ( she doesn’t know that i probably cannot emotionally)#and that if she expects adult help she cannot treat me like a child#and i’m not saying i have free reign in the house but i am saying you can’t have it both ways. just communicate with me#and also asked if she could see how this was mean or rude to me and she was like yeah but reluctantly and all but rolling her eyes#i’m not saying she can’t have fun just talk to me. told her i’m not playing these games during my vacation
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inner-community · 8 months
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i really hate when the ppl i work for tell me they want me to work less for them because they need to cur back financially (despite all being very very well off)
i think it makes me feel like. rejected and unappreciated but moreso it’s like. this is my job this is all i have if you just decide you need your money more than i do… i just don’t have what i need. like if i am making less from my dogs i have to get more dogs and do less of the helpful work i enjoy… and i really prefer having a few people/dogs that i am close to and love than having to pick up any old walks because i can’t afford not to.
it makes me want to move away right now because i feel like i have outstayed my welcome or something. we were supposed to move last year and it didn’t work out and i was happy to get to keep seeing them but i just feel like if i had gone i would be sad but fulfilled. now i feel like i am just trying to stay relevant while the creatures and ppl important to me are trying to take everything away.
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peachesofteal · 10 months
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Light On - single mom/neighbors fic Simon Riley/female reader
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You're early.
Your little knock on the door sends him into a spiral of panic, brain splitting in half, trying to figure out if he can hide his mortifying failure from you and still save dinner.
You knock again.
"Hey, sorry, I know we're early but-" You peel off with a sniff, nose wrinkling slightly, lips tucking together. You're wearing a lip stick, or a lip gloss, or something? And your hair is done. "Is something burning?"
"No!" He blurts. "No, uh. I'm just... cooking. Come in, come in."
He did actually, burn dinner. He burnt it so bad he had to order delivery, Thai on the fly, much to your excitement, and he files the knowledge of one of your favorite foods away for the future. The two of you eat together, little bits and pieces being given to Emmaline from your finger, and by the time you're finished, he's nearly worked up the nerve to start talking.
"So..." your voice trails, awkwardly, and you glance at him before looking away, finding a spot on the wall to study. Here goes nothing.
"I ah, wanted to explain, my behavior... from the other night." He starts, rubbing the nape of his neck. You watch him expectantly, Emmaline on your lap, and when he falters, you give him an encouraging nod.
"I'm listening."
"How I reacted, how I spoke to you was... unfair. It was cruel and I never want to make you upset, like that." You nod. "What I do- my job- it's... it can be dangerous. Stressful. Our last mission was difficult and I... operate in a different headspace at work. It's what keeps me alive. Makes me good at what I do." Skip the killing part, LT, Soap's voice reminds him, and he pushes on. "I was still decompressing, when you came to the door and I didn't want you to see me... like that."
"With your war paint." You quip, and he pauses, head cocked. "You had black stuff, around your eyes?"
"Yes, with my war paint. I didn't want you to..." He loses it for a second, flailing in the wind, mind scrambling as he tries to put the words together. Just say it. Tell the truth. "I didn't want you to be afraid of me. I don't think I could stand it. It's no excuse but, I guess, I thought you deserved an explanation."
"You're right." You say slowly. "It's not an excuse." You sigh, twirling a fork through the last of your noodles. "I'm not mad at you, not anymore. I just... it's hard you know. To put yourself out there, when you're a single mom. And a widow. I thought, maybe... you didn't-"
"I do." He cuts you off. "I... you and Emmaline, you're the best things that have happened in a long time. I-"
"Oh my god!" you gasp, and he instinctually startles, muscles going stiff as he surveys the flat.
"What?"
"It's snowing! Sorry, just uh..." You're already standing, hand half reaching towards him, excited smile on your face. "Emmaline's never seen snow before, can we... this is her first winter." You explain, and then move towards the balcony, fidgeting with his door lock, huffing in frustration when you can't figure it out.
"I got it." He says, not mentioning that it's custom, and slides it free, pushing the door wide so you can go outside. You're vibrating with joy, smile wide and big, and even Emmaline feels it, watching her mum, little face lit up the same as yours.
"Look, baby. Look!" You point, and then cup your palm, letting fat white flakes fall into your hand, tilting to show Emma, and she cackles with excitement, pudgy hand slapping against yours, bringing the melting snow to her mouth. You laugh with her, staring back up at the sky before glancing over to where he stands in the doorway, enraptured. The snow is caught in your hair, on your nose, in your eyelashes, the same as the baby, both of you glowing on his fucking balcony like angels on earth, sent to him from someone up there who might love him.
"Thanks, mum." he whispers to himself, to her, ducking inside to grab the blanket from the couch so he can wrap the two of you up in it to keep you at least a little warm and protected from the elements. "I wish you could have met them."
When he reappears, you're still catching flakes, this time with your tongue, hardly paying attention until he's settling the blanket on your shoulders and stepping back to watch, content to try to memorize every single second.
"Come here." You call, extending a hand, wiggling your fingers. "Try to catch one on your tongue." But he can't move.... he's too stunned, standing there before you, staring, and it gives you pause. "Simon." You whisper, head tipped back. The balcony lamp reflects in your eyes, snowflakes and yellow shine glowing back at him, the entire world lit up inside them, and his hand finds your cheek, cupping it with his bare palm, thumb stroking across the velvet that is your skin.
"I'm so sorry, sweetheart. So, so sorry." His voice sounds thick, fractured, and you smile, leaning into him, Emmaline's warm weight between your bodies.
"I know... I... I understand now." You look away, for a second, taking a deep breath before blinking rapidly, tears just barely there on your waterline. "I can't... losing Emma's dad, before she was even born I- I can't... I don't want to go through anything like that again, Simon. I'm scared." It's a confession, horrifying and real, terrified and heartbreaking. All he can do is tell you the truth. Tell you what he feels. What he knows.
"You don't have to be scared." He murmurs, low and soft, other hand coming to gently support Emmaline's back. "Not with me. I promise you." What is he doing, what is he doing, what is he- what is he promising? To live forever? To never hurt you? To never let either of you be hurt? To claw his way back to you, even in death?
He looks down at you, at Emma, and the world freezes. He sees everything so clearly, the image of his future, of yours- a little house with a yard, another baby. Emmaline a big sister, so proud and excited. All of you tucked away somewhere secret and safe.
He takes a deep breath, exhale crystalizing in the air, water vapor falling like a halo around you, and his confession comes unbidden, so easily given to you. "I want to kiss you."
"Okay." You answer, and then he moves, closing the gap, slowly pressing his lips to the warmth of yours, blood pooling beneath his skin, heat flowing between your bodies. You taste like heaven, mouth sweet and easy for him, parting with a tiny gasp, and it overpowers him to the point where he thinks his knees might give out. He can't help but hold your closer, arm tightening around your back, finger stroking down the length of your spine-
Emma cries. It's not really a cry, more like a little shout, and you pull away abruptly, giggly expression on your face.
"What's wrong baby girl." He hums, patting her back, tucking the blanket tighter around your arm and her body.
"I think she's upset she's going to have to share you. You're her favorite nowadays, you know." You tease, and his grin is so heavy on his face, but so light at the same time, something completely foreign and wild, the breadth of happiness something he hasn't felt in so many years. "And she's probably cold."
"Should we go inside?" He motions, somewhat relieved to get both of you out of the cold, and when you nod, you take his hand, intertwining your fingers with his, squeezing gently.
"We should."
3K notes · View notes
luveline · 4 months
Note
Mothers day lil fic with eddie x reader from june baby? 👉🏻👈🏻
mom!reader, 1.5k “Big stretch!”
You hold your arms above your head, stretching as tall as you can go. Your t-shirt rises and exposes the soft stretch of your tummy, stretch marks decorating your skin and lightened in the sun as you lean to your left side.
“Okay, now we count. One, two…”
“Three,” Junie says. “Five, six, seven.”
“You forgot four, babe. Let’s try again, okay?” You stretch to your right side. “One, two, three…”
“Five, six, four–”
You giggle. Junie, who wasn’t doing a very good job at copying your yoga poses to begin with, hears you laughing and drops her short arms to her sides. “Tummy!” she says, jumping forward to push her hand into your stomach.
“I’m telling Eddie you did that. So nasty.” You drop your arms.
“Tummy,” she says again, poking at your belly button.
You catch her hands in yours and level her with a feigned glare. “What are you trying to say about my tummy?”
She beams. It’s lovely to have a little baby that looks like you. Her joy is yours, her smile made up of your lips and teeth. She’s a mirror, and you could never not think she was gorgeous —it makes you gorgeous too.
“Guess we’re done stretching?” you ask.
She lifts her hands to your sides, a gesture to be grabbed. You lean down to collect her and drag her up for a hug, holding her low at the back to encourage face to face time. “What, you’re not talking to me?” you ask warmly.
She touches your neck.
“I know,” you say. You’re pretty sure you get it.
Outside, tires roll across grass and road alike. You listen for the whine of Eddie’s van as it parks, grinning all over again when it comes. He’s not supposed to see you today, it’s Sunday, he has too much stuff to do.
If he’s outside, it means he swapped his shifts again or called out, which means he’s gonna give you one of his speeches about being sickly sweet in love with you. You can pretend you don’t like them as much as you want, but there’s no better feeling than being loved like you’re something special.
You open the door before he can, and he needs it, anyhow. To your confusion, he’s carrying a cellophane wrapped bouquet made up of a hundred different colours and a white box in the other, arms full and naked, no jacket to hide from the early summer sun. Your eyes widen as he gets to the steps. He looks like he made an effort to see you (and it doesn’t matter that he doesn’t always, you love him as he is, but you can’t help asking yourself why).
“What’s going on?” you ask.
Eddie smiles. “What do you mean?”
“What’s the stuff for?” There’s a bag hanging from his elbow.
“This stuff?” he asks, cresting the last step.
“Hi,” Junie says.
“Hi, babe.”
“Hi.” She reaches for the flowers. “Pretty.”
“You think so? I got them for your mommy but I’m sure she’ll share them with you.”
You’re nonplussed as he moves in to kiss your cheek and skirt around you. “Come on. This stuff’s heavy,” he says, the cellophane crunching against his chest as he squeezes past you into your home.
“Eddie, what is that stuff?”
“You don’t know what day it is today?”
You think about it for a second at least. “No?”
It’s not your birthday, not Junie’s. You and Eddie can’t have made it to your first anniversary already, but perhaps six months? You try to do the maths in your head. Eddie puts the white box on your kitchen table, the bag on Junie’s high chair, and the flowers by the sink.
“You really don’t know, do you?” he asks, some sympathy in play.
“Eddie, we did stretches!” Junie says from your arms.
You offer her to him. He wraps her up and makes it look easy, baby on his hip. Quick kiss pressed to her cheek. “Yeah? Mom’s got you doing yoga again?”
You’re drawn to the box like a magnet.
“What is it?” you ask.
“It’s for you, babe,” he says easily, smiling as Junie tucks a curl behind his ear. “It’s all for you. You can open it.”
“You sure?”
“Of course I am. Open it up.”
You take the box’s lid off, lips parting in surprise. Happy Mother’s Day has been written in white writing against a baby pink cake. It’s simple, without frills, but it’s sweet and it looks soft to the touch.
“Is it today?” you ask.
“Yeah, babe. I can’t believe you didn’t know.” Eddie shifts Junie forward to stop her from tangling his hair. “That’s a lie, I totally can. Quick, come here.”
You slot into his side, expecting the kiss, but not the second one against the apple of your cheek. “Happy Mother’s Day. I would’ve been here sooner, but I had to make sure my mom knew I was thinking about her first.” He taps your noses together before pulling away. “You’re the best mom ever, so. Me and June got you some presents. No biggie.”
“Junie got me this?”
“Who do you think wrote on the cake?”
Eddie pretends to eat Junie’s hand, to her delight. You feel the cardboard of your box between your fingers, no attempt made to hide the achingly huge smile that’s taking shape. “And the bags for me too?” you ask.
Eddie can hear it in your voice. “The bag’s for you too, of course. You're the mother.” He snarfs against Junie’s wrist. “Um-num-num.”
You drag the bag from Junie’s blue and orange high chair across the table to peek inside. It’s a flat, paper bag from a clothing store, so the contents surprise you for being much more than clothes. Your smile gets worse with each item unveiled from its tissue paper depths: a humble box of fancy chocolates, a bag of your favourite chips, a small black box and a pair of pyjamas wrapped together with a ribbon.
You hesitate with the box, hand atop it, head tilting toward your shoulder. Eddie doesn’t notice your hesitation, or at least he’s pretending not to, pretending to nibble Junie’s sleeve where she’s laughing it up in his arms.
“What’s in the box?”
He looks up quickly. Not pretending. “Oh, that’s– If you don’t like it, I can take it back. It’s nothing crazy.”
“You’re proposing.” The box is shaped for a bracelet or necklace rather than a ring.
He nods severely. “Will you do me the honour?”
You laugh softly and line your thumb to the box’s seam. It opens on a tense hinge, clicking into place.
It’s a bracelet made up of silver beads. There’s a small flat-circle charm between the beads, that, upon closer inspection, harbours two hearts, one bigger than the other.
“It’s nothing fancy, okay? So if it breaks you won’t feel bad. It’s real silver though, you don’t have to take it off much if you don’t want to. I don’t know. I think it’s, like, a reminder of her when you’re not together.” Junie whines, encouraging Eddie to press another peck to her cheek as he hugs her tighter, and takes a step closer to you. “If you don’t like it, it’s really fine.”
You slip the bracelet onto your wrist. It goes without saying you’ve never had much jewellery.
Taking his face into your hands is easy. Holding him tenderly is second nature. “Thank you,” you say, eye to eye, willing it to sink in deeply. “I love you.”
“Yeah, I love you, too. And Junie loves you more than anybody. You deserve to know that.”
“I do,” you say, glad when he puckers up for a kiss. You kiss his pouting lips misaligned to nobody’s worry, adding another for thankfulness, and a third just because. He’s smirking before you’ve so much as pulled away.
“And thank you!” you add saccharinely, stroking Junie’s cheek, though the idea that she had anything to do with your gifts is funny. “I wouldn’t get to be a mommy if it wasn’t for you. I love you.”
“Love you,” Junie says distractedly, more interested by the stud earring in Eddie’s lobe.
He gives you both a soft, soft look, startlingly yards away from his previous smirking. “You’re the best girls in the world.”
“You're the best boyfriend.” You curve an arm around him to steal him and press your face into his arm. “I love you,” you say, smushed. “Thank you so much for everything. I love you.”
“I love you, too,” he says.
“I really love you.”
“Yeah,” he says, his nose touching your head as he cranes his head down to you. “It’s okay, sweetheart, I love you too. You deserve it, alright?”
Junie pats your head. “Love love love you. Kiss?”
She almost blinds you trying to kiss you in the eye as you turn your face toward her, but it’s nice.
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gyusrose · 6 months
Text
➵ you’re so vain -> l.hs
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⚠︎ smut (mdni)
✎ jock!heeseung x reader, enemies to ?????, heeseung is rlly annoying, hate sex ;), hair pulling, dirty talk, unprotected sex, degradation, backshots lmao. i think that’s it?
summary: attending a new school was supposed to be a fresh start for you, trying to be nice to everyone and have new friends, yet coming across lee heeseung threw all of that out the window.
(heeseung x fem.reader)
wc: 3.2k
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your sweaty hands could not be gripping the steering wheel any harder. you wouldn’t call yourself “super shy” but when it comes to a whole new community of people, teenagers, hell yeah you are.
you had to move exactly at the middle of the year due to your mom’s work. they offered her double the salary at the other side of the city, who was she to say no to that? although you were going to miss your friends and the overall environment of your old home, you couldn’t just tell your mom ‘no’, either way her decisions are final.
you just got here two days ago, and to be honest, it wasn’t that bad. the worst thing so far is the fact that the nearest shopping center was 30 minutes away but you’ll live.
you didn’t except your first day of school to be so nerve-wracking. surely you’ll make some friends but who knows what people are like here. eventually, you saw the big navy blue sign with your school’s name on it. it was an averagely big school, bigger than your old one, which also meant more people.
the parking space alone was scary. it was huge yet already full even though it was still fairly early. you went around in circles around the parking lot, trying to find a vacant spot. fortunately you did at the second-to-last line.
as you tried to park, the limited space you had made it difficult to, having to back up and drive in constantly. as you reversed your car, you must have completely forgotten that you aren’t the only one there, feeling a small crash at the bumper of your car.
your eyes widened in panic. you looked back to see what you hit, and with your luck, it revealed at very nice black car, to which you’ve just hit. you tried to quickly get into your parking spot, hoping it was nothing serious, but then someone came walking up to you.
‘shit, that must be the owner’ you saw his red, rather handsome, fuming face.
you got out of your car to confront the first person interaction.
“hey look im so-“
“CANT YOU FUCKING DRIVE RIGHT? YOU HIT MY VERY EXPENSIVE CAR WITH YOUR THING, WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?”
oh he was an asshole. you almost scoffed in his face. who does he think he is.
“it was accident that’s all, it was barely a scratch calm down man.”
“IT WAS DEFINITELY A SCRATCH LOOK AT IT! JUST BECAUSE YOU KEEP YOUR CAR LOOKING ALL MISERABLE DOESNT MEAN I WILL, DO YOU EVEN HAVE A LICENSE?”
lord take me back. you were so close to just leaving him there arguing with himself. but you didn’t want to make him even angrier.
“look im sorry! i can pay for the fix up if that’s what you want, i dont know what else to do?”
the boy scoffed and rolled his eyes at your statement.
“you think i don’t have the money for it? please, it shows you’re a newbie around here.”
“i didn’t mean it like that-“
“yo heeseung!! come on bro!” another blonde boy called from afar, hopefully ending the argument y’all were having.
“ watch your back new girl.” with one last glare, he left to join his group of friends.
you rolled your eyes. shiver my fucking timbers, you thought.
you took a deep breath before grabbing your backpack and making your way into school , hoping to never see his face ever again.
>>
you thought that was going to be the end of it all. but oh boy were you wrong. soon you found out that heeseung is the captain of the football team, and pretty much the most popular boy in school. as cliche as it sounds, every girl would drop their panties if he asked them to.
people know he’s not the nicest person ( an asshole) yet they still look up to him. that’s angered you. how are all these people so dumb? just because he’s kinda good-looking? seriously?
over the course of a few weeks, you’ve managed to make some friends, your closest taehyun and Isa. although you tried to block the negativity, heeseung made it really hard. always giving you snarky comments when he saw you around, ridiculing you in front of other people. somehow always finding a way to run into you despite not having any classes together. except gym.
“ bro open your eyes, catch the damn ball!” he yelled from across from you.
you hated sports. even less could you play one, but you gotta do it for the grade.
“the ball was too high up dummy!” you retorted, rolling your eyes for maybe the 100th time in the class period.
if you hated gym before, you definitely hated it more now.
as the period ended, you decided to take a quick shower in the locker rooms since you couldn’t handle being all sweaty and gross throughout the day.
heeseung finished changing and was outside the locker room with his friends, chatting, waiting for the bell to ring. that’s when he may have accidentally eavesdropped the conversation between your two friends, he could barely the names of.
“where’s _____?” taehyun asked isa, noticing how you weren’t with her.
“she’s taking a shower right now, she told us to not wait for her.” Isa shrugged before taehyun nodded.
a beautiful idea popped in heeseung’s brain. it was too good.
he excused himself and sneakily waited by the girl’s locker room, waiting for everyone to come out. once he only heard the shower you were using running, he quietly entered the room. the bell had rang about a minute ago, so the gym was empty, only you and him. the gym teacher god knows where.
he saw his target and rapidly grabbed the pile of clothes sitting on the bench, a smirk evident in his face.
suddenly the shower stopped running, making heeseung hurry and exit the locker room.
the shower felt too good, you think you spent more time that you anticipated to. as you exited the shower tiles, you looked around for your clothes, which you remember clearly leaving them in the bench closest to the shower. you looked around the whole locker room, hoping you were wrong and placed them elsewhere. unfortunately, you couldn’t even find your damn socks.
your biggest fear has come true. you’re now naked, nothing but a towel covering you, this was more than just humiliating. you felt sad, mad, angry, embarrassed all at once. they’ve been stolen for sure, and you were more than sure on who did it.
grabbing your phone you called Isa, to see if she could help you somehow. and she indeed did. bringing you some spare clothes she had. thankfully, you always bring extra underwear since situations like these could happen. you just had to wait for isa for the clothes, yet the five minutes she took felt like five hours. unfortunately, passing period is over, meaning some students are coming in the locker room to change.
many of them just straight up stared at you. giving you weird looks as to why you were pretty much naked in the middle of the locker room, but none had the guts to ask you.
you wished the ground would just swallow you whole. lee heeseung won’t hear the end of it.
“LEE HEESEUNG!” you yelled across the field. he and his friends were siting down eating lunch outside when you spotted him after trying to find him after the stunt he just pulled.
heeseung knew it was coming, giggling with his friends as they heard you yell his name once again. “ oh she’s about to scold me now .” heeseung scoffed but still got up and went over to you.
“yes ma’am?” he said with a smile, you wish you could slap off but you’re better than that.
“YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DID DO YOU KNOW HOW EMBARRASSING THAT WAS?”
“i have no idea what you’re talking about..” heeseung tried acting innocent but failed as he just burst out laughing. you groaned, how on earth is that funny?
“cute panties by the way” he continued to laugh, not sparing a glance at your mad expression on your face.
“you’re such an ass, i hate your guts.” you said leaving him alone, laughing to himself.
“yo bro i think she actually got mad this time.” his friend, jake came over.
heeseung shrugged. “she’s so sensitive, it wasn’t even that bad.”
“i can’t believe he did that…” taehyun said as you told them both what had happened. Isa knew a little bit but not who did it.
“that’s fucked up, what’s he got against you so much?”
you shrugged. “i guess because i gave his car a little scratch, but i guess he took it to heart since he hasn’t stopped bothering me since. he’s a jerk.”
“finally someone who thinks the same as me!” taehyun said making you chuckle.
“then get back at him! you know the one thing that makes him who he is is that damn football.” Isa said.
you tried to be the bigger person this whole time, not paying much mind to his little remarks or pranks he pulls, biting back a little wouldn’t hurt right?
“you know what, you’re right.”
“lee heeseung, mrs. park wants to speak to you.” mr.jung said calling heeseung.
heeseung who was barely paying attention heard his name. his frowned at this. what on earth could she want to talk about with him? either way, he went to her classroom.
he entered the empty classroom to find his coach and mrs.park, waiting for him. what the fuck? heeseung was more confused now. maybe they were going to congratulate him for the good work this semester? his coach’s face said otherwise though.
“there you are, you may be wondering why you’re here..” mrs.park started. heeseung nodded, feeling uneasy.
“a student came forward, showing how you copied word for word her whole assignment, the one i assigned a week ago. i didn’t notice it at first but it’s very clear now, you may know how cheating is unacceptable in my class, i’ve decided to fail you in this assignment, plus you’ll be serving detention this whole week..” she turned to the coach.
heeseung’s heart started beating at a rapid pace, he’s never been caught cheating, and being failed on the assignment that was a big part of his grade, it means he’s most likely failing the class now. the rules for football stated that all players should be passing all of their classes if not, they’ll be dropped….
no no no, the lee heeseung can’t be dropped. he’s the captain! the star player!
“since you’re failing this class heeseung, i think you know what’s about to happe-“
“please coach! don’t kick me out, i’m the captain! what would the team do without me? i’ll get my grade up as soon as possible im-“
“calm down calm down, i’m not going to kick you out, it’s the middle of the season, but unfortunately you won’t be playing the next three games. if your grade is not up by then, then i will drop you. understood?” his coach stated earning a sharp nod by heeseung.
he’s glad he’s still on the team but what’s the point if he can’t play? he’s going to become a joke. the captain that’s a bench warmer. how stupid.
he left the classroom enraged. he knows exactly who did this.
“bro what? what do you mean you ain’t gonna play ?” riki said in disbelief at what his captain just said.
“some snitch told mrs.park that i cheated on the last assignment and coach suspended me for the next three games, and i got detention all week!” sunghoon unknowingly chuckled. heeseung looked at him with a glare.
“what? she got you good, what did you expect hee?” sunghoon kept laughing, making some of the others also laugh silently.
heeseung had nothing to say back, he just rolled his eyes. “tch, whatever.”
nevertheless, you were overjoyed seeing heeseung slouching on the bench. you couldn’t miss this once in a lifetime scenario. obviously you were the cause for it. heeseung asks Isa almost all the time for her notes or to straight up copy her. she willingly let you rat him out after what he did to you.
he can sense how all eyes were on him, but he just tried to block everyone out a focus on the game. he had a poker face on, but deep inside he was irritated . he saw how you were smirking and laughing with your two little friends. you knew what you were doing.
>>
“ahh look who it is, the benchwarmer! “ you said chuckling as you made your way to heeseung.
after the team (barely) won, jake threw an ‘after party’ at his house. even though you don’t normally go to these parties, especially from those boys, you felt like a party would do good with your marvellous mood. something about seeing heeseung’s frowny face made feel over the moon.
“seems like cat got your tongue now huh? dont have anything to say-“
in a blink of an eye you were pulled into a room, heeseung’s fingers wrapped around your neck, pulling your face closer to his.
“what the fuck? heeseung-“
“shut the fuck up.” his hoarse voice caught you off guard. he was actually really mad.
“you think what you did it’s fucking funny? huh? almost getting me kicked out ? “ you’ve never seen him this enraged before. making you almost scared, yet….kinda turned on? no, you hate him, snap out of it! you told yourself yet the wetness in between your legs became hard to ignore.
you didn’t respond. “fuck, you’re so annoying, i can’t fucking stand you. i hate you.” he saw lowly. fuck that was hot.
you spoke before thinking. “then show me.”
not needing to tell him twice, heeseung pulled you completely in. your lips met in a kiss that was anything but gentle, a fierce and consuming clash that spoke longing and raw need.
The kiss deepened, fueled by an unspoken urgency, their mouths exploring each other with a fervor that left y’all breathless. his grip on your neck becoming tighter.
“shit im gonna show you to fucking behave.” he said before pushing you into the bed forcefully. you may have discovered a new kink of yours. watching as he undressed himself and yourself rapidly. feeling his anger through every touch he gave you.
he rubbed through your folds before inserting two fingers aggressively. your body jolted at the sudden move.
“holy shit go softer dumbass.”
“aw you think i give a fuck? suck it up and take it since you think you’re all that.” his fingers pumped faster and faster making it hard for you to answer back to his stupid remarks.
“oh my god..” you tried to pull his hand away before you cum. not wanting to see you orgasm so easily yet.
“just fuck me already heeseung, or is your dick as tiny as your brain?”
heeseung looked darkly at you. that stupid mouth of yours can’t shut up will it?
he retracted his fingers put of you and took his boxers off. wanting nothing more than to prove you wrong.
shit. your eyes went wide at what stood in front of you. saying he was big was an understatement. it was like a zipper for your mouth. how was that thing going to fit inside of you?
“can’t say anything now, can you slut?” he pulled your legs down the mattress to have you at the perfect angle to ram into you.
heeseung ran his til over your folds, teasing his way in. making you aggrevated.
“just put it in for fucks sake!”
“tell me how bad you want it.” you shook your head, no way were you going to beg. no way.
“alright then, i guess im gonna go.” he said letting go of your waist, acting as if he was going to leave.
“okay okay! please fuck me, i want it so bad, i want your big cock so bad heeseung.” heeseung moaned at your words. he didn’t wait any longer and thrusted all of him in you.
you both moaned yet it was more painful for you. you’ve never had something so big inside you before.
“fuck yeah..” he said then grabbing your neck, slightly choking you. your hands went to his biceps, trying to find something to hold on to as the speed he was thrusting in became more hostile.
“fuck me harder, like the asshole you are.” you said in between breaths. heeseung took the challenge and thrusted violently. the skin slapping and wetness of your core could probably be heard in the party outside.
“of course a whore like you would like to be fucked like this.”
before you could respond he pulled out of you earning a desperate groan from you, but then your were flipped, now on all fours and before you knew it he was back in you again. gripping your hip with one hand while he pulled your hair on the other.
“such a tight pussy, you probably fantasized about this am i right?” he said in your ear. you shook your head through your moan.
“in your dreams lee, in your fucking dreams. fuck you.”
“i’m quite literally doing that.” chuckling, he let go of your hair and instead gripped your other hip, going in deeper, nudging your cervix literally driving you to an edge.
“fuck i’m cumming.” you cried out. never has an orgasm felt like this. heeseung was on edge as well, feeling you clench around his dick did it for him.
your climax rose over you, making you fall into the pillow while heeseung kept thrusting until his own organs came over him, pulling out and releasing his white ropes all over your back.
tiredly, he laid besides you in the strangers bed, not knowing what to say now.
you turned to him, smirking. “i think i may hate you even more now.”
2K notes · View notes
puckinghischier · 3 months
Text
Falling
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Nico Hischier x fem!reader
summary: reader gets hurt and nico is worried about her
notes: y’all i ain’t gonna lie, i went through a bit of a rollercoaster while writing this. i loved it at first, then halfway through started hating it, then somehow started loving it again towards the end. so if it seems a little all over place i’m sorry. also i know very little about how a dislocated shoulder works, so just pretended i didn’t if i got anything wrong. i hope y’all enjoy it!! happy reading!! 🫶🏼
request: from my 400 follower celly - “A hears that B got hurt and rushes over in a panic to see if they are okay” where reader maybe gets in an accident or gets hurt in their sport (nothing major). Bonus points if you add “I can braid your hair for you- I mean, only if you want.”
[4.5k]
part 2
“Yeah, Mom, I’m fine. Nothing’s broken, just a nasty dislocation,” you attempt to calm your mother’s nerves, trying to unlock your apartment door with your good arm while balancing your phone between your cheek and shoulder. “They reset it for me and told me to follow up with my primary care on Monday. Gave me some pain meds and sent me on my way.”
“Well, what about until then? What if you need help? What about work? How will you drive?” she rapid fires questions at you.
“I’ll figure it out, don’t worry. Since it was a work-related injury, I’ll still get paid. And they’re paying all of the medical bills, so that’s all taken care of,” you make your way into your apartment, shutting the door with your foot behind you. “Everything else I’ll handle as it comes.”
She doesn’t seem satisfied with your answer, tsking into her phone, making you picture her trademark displeased headshake.
“What about Nico? Why don’t you stay with him until you’re back to 100%? I’m sure he’d be willing to help out,” she suggests, her tone switching from worried to suggestive.
You roll your eyes, knowing exactly where this conversation is headed.
“Mom, how many times do I have to tell you, Nico and I are just friends. We work together. Just because you think you saw him look at me a certain way when you were visiting doesn’t mean I have to call him every time something goes wrong,” you tell her, placing your bag on your kitchen table.
Ever since your mom came in a few months ago to visit, she’s been on your case about making a move on Nico, it all starting when she witnessed Nico helping you across the ice during a pre-game practice while trying to get some action shots.
You work as a photographer for the Devils, not realizing that being able to ice skate would have been a nice addition to your resume.
Your college advisor arranged the interview for you right before graduation. You had no previous knowledge of hockey, having come from a football family. You told your advisor this, but she insisted you didn’t have to know anything about a sport to be able to take good pictures of it.
During the interview, you made sure to inform your now boss that you didn’t know how to skate, hoping it wouldn’t be a problem. He assured you that you could take pictures from the stands or the players bench, the chance of you having to step onto the ice slim.
For the first few months of your job, it was smooth sailing. You were mostly taking pictures from the camera holes in the glass or being told to cover locker room and arrival pictures. You worked with one other photographer, a seasoned sports photography veteran named Phil. Phil was a New Jersey native, having grown up skating, so he took over the duties of any major action shots the director wanted from on the ice.
Unfortunately for you, Phil’s wife had convinced him to retire early, losing his help right before the league’s short Christmas break.
Seeing as they had just hired you, and it was the middle of the season, the hunt for a replacement for Phil was put on the backburner, more important team matters taking precedence.
You were forced to take over Phil’s duties, meaning you were now responsible for any on the ice shots. You had found a way to slowly scoot across the perimeter of the rink, staying out of the way while also getting the shots you needed.
Your system was working well until the morning of a gameday, having gotten permission from your boss to bring your mother along to this particular practice, wanting to show her all aspects of your job.
For this particular game, the players were especially focused on practicing their skills and running drills during morning skate. You were doing your typical shuffle while clutching the edge of the waist-high wall when someone came zooming past you, causing your feet to start sliding uncontrollably, not being able to find your footing on the slick ice.
You felt the moment you were about to fall, waiting for the impact of your butt on the cold ice, but it never came. You felt yourself fall into a body covered by plastic pads, gloved hands shooting out to grab your upper arms.
You looked up, seeing Nico smiling down at you in amusement.
“It’s a bit slippery out here, huh?” he jokes, making sure you’re standing steady on your feet before letting go of you.
“Well, we are standing on ice, so….” You trail off, grabbing onto the wooden ledge again, preventing another near fall.
Nico laughs, looking down and shuffling his skates back and forth.
“Well would you look at that? We are on ice ” He flashes a smile, looking back up at you.
You stick your tongue out at him, earning another chuckle from the team’s Captain.
“You know, most people use these great things called ice skates when they try to walk on ice,” he tells you, lifting one skate up for emphasis.
Rolling your eyes, you scoff out a “Oh wow, why didn’t I ever think of that?”
“Just some food for thought,” Nico shrugged as he placed his foot back down on the ice, skating in a little circle, as if to say “See, told you so.”
You let go of the ledge to cross your arms, forgetting that you needed the stability. When you try to shift your weight from one leg to the other, you lose your footing again, this time falling forward into Nico. You let the camera in your hands fall, grabbing onto his biceps to stay upright, thankful for the camera strap around your neck.
His hands shoot out to grab your forearms.
“You know the sad thing is, even with the skates, I’d still be as clumsy, considering I have absolutely no idea how to use them,” you tell him, the two of you still holding on to one another.
Nico shakes his head at you, placing one of your hands on his forearm, moving you from in front of him to beside of him.
He starts slowly skating towards the bench while you shuffle your feet along, putting all of your focus on keeping yourself upright until you reach your destination.
When you finally reach the bench, you step off of the ice and let out a breath of relief.
“Thanks, Cap. Would’ve hated to make a fool of myself out there while my mom’s watching,” you thank him, looking over to where your mom sits, a smile on her face.
Nico follows your gaze and waves to your mom, matching her smile.
“Well, we wouldn’t want that now, would we? What if she found out her daughter was a skating fraud?” he teases, leaning in to whisper the last two words.
“It’s her fault for never taking me to the rink my town would throw up once a year at Christmas. Who knows, maybe I would’ve been a skating prodigy if given the chance,” you shrug.
A mischievous smile makes its way onto his face. “I think we should put that theory to the test,” he tells you, causing your eyes to latch onto his.
“Come again?” You raise your eyebrows and tilt your chin down.
“I mean, I can’t have some photographer out on my ice during practices that can’t even stand up,” he keeps his tone light, making sure you know he’s just teasing, “So, I’m going to teach you how to skate, and see if you really would have been a skating prodigy.”
He skates off, winking before resuming his practice.
You don’t have a chance to speak to him again until after the game, when you get at text from an unknown number reading “Rink, tomorrow, 2pm. I’ll bring skates, just bring your prodigy skills.”
After that, you meet with Nico twice a week for skating lessons.
The two of you quickly form a friendship, Nico bringing you coffee on gamedays and you slipping him snacks on the bench during games. You even started inviting him over for dinner after your lessons, insisting the least you can do is feed him to repay him for preventing you from making a fool of yourself on the ice.
Today, however, you did make a fool of yourself on the ice.
You were standing behind the net, telling the players to skate towards you so you could get some shots for the team’s Instagram account by request of the social media manager.
Once you were pleased with the amount of shots you had gotten, you left your spot from behind the net, skating slowly towards the benches, still a little wobbly on your skates.
You were looking down at your camera, thinking of how you’ll have to get Nico out here after the game to get some shots, knowing he’s currently doing pre-game interviews in the locker room.
You weren’t paying the slightest bit of attention to the pucks littering the ice in front of you, skating right into one and losing your balance, holding your camera up with one arm while trying to catch yourself with the other.
You felt the way your shoulder shifted, crying out in pain as players turned and started rushing towards you on the ice.
The team doctor came out and told you he was pretty sure your shoulder was simply dislocated, but sent you to the hospital to make sure nothing’s broken.
The ER doctor confirmed your diagnosis, putting your shoulder back into place before pumping you full of pain meds and placing your arm into a sling.
Which leads you to where you are now, back at your apartment, explaining to your mother why Nico can’t be at your beck and call.
“Honey, when are you going to realize that boy is in love with you? I’m telling you, the way I saw him look at you that day I came to visit, the skating lessons and dinners,” she starts, giving you her typical speech when you tell her Nico is just a friend.
“Mom, it doesn’t matter what you think you saw, we’re seriously just friends. And he’s busy, his schedule is too hectic to spend his time babysitting me,” you interrupt her, not wanting to hear her Nico speech for the thousandth time, regretting ever telling her about the skating lessons.
She sighs into the phone.
“I’m just trying to help you, you know…” you hear your mother start, but you tune the rest of her words out, focusing on the three loud knocks on your front door.
Your head turns to your door, the unexpected noise causing you to jump, the sudden motion tipping your bag over, the contents spilling all of your kitchen floor.
“Honey, are you alright? What was that?” your mom halts her one-sided conversation, worry in her tone.
“Shit!” you exclaim, watching the container of memory cards fly open, the small squares sliding across the linoleum floor.
You forget about the sling on your arm, crouching down and trying to reach for the cards with your bad arm, a searing pain shooting through your shoulder at the movement.
Letting out a loud yelp, you bring your arm back to its resting positing in the sling.
“Y/N, what’s going on? Did you hurt yourself?” you barely hear your mother’s voice through the phone speaker, not being able to think about anything other than the throbbing pain in your shoulder.
You hear three more pounds on your front door, this time a voice following the knocks.
“Y/N! Open up!”
You groan, trying to stand up, too many people trying to get your attention at the moment.
“Honey, talk to me. Is someone in there with you? I heard another voice,” your mother asks you as you stand, making your way over towards your front door.
“Someone’s knocking on the door,” you grit through your teeth, trying to think about anything but the pain in your shoulder. “I dropped my bag and tried to pick something up with my bad arm. I’m fine. Just hurts,” you tell her, opening your door to see a frantic Nico standing there.
His wide eyes scan your body, stopping once they see the sling on your arm.
You notice his wet hair and lack of socks on his tennis shoe covered feet.
“Are you okay? They told me you had to be taken to the hospital before the game started, but no one knew what really happened,” he rushed out, looking up at your face.
“Hey, Mom, gotta go, Nico’s at my door,” you tell her, a little stunned that the object of your conversation just appeared, hanging up the phone before she could make any comments about it.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Are you?” you ask him, pointing towards his feet, an amused smile on your face. The shock of seeing him at your door making you completely forget about the pain in your shoulder.
Nico looks down at his own feet, looking back up at you with red cheeks.
“Oh, uh, I couldn’t find my socks after the game and i couldn’t get you to answer your phone, so I rushed over to the hospital to see if you were still there, and they told me you left about an hour ago, so I hopped in my car and came over here to make sure you were okay,” he tells you, not meeting your eye.
You’re shocked at his confession, not expecting him to be so concerned about your impromptu trip to the hospital.
“Well, I’m here and still standing,” you awkwardly stand in your doorway, not knowing what else to say, thinking about how if you weren’t arguing with your mom over Nico on the phone, you might have gotten his calls.
“Yeah, I see that now,” he shoves his hands in the pocket of his hoodie.
The two of you stand there, not really knowing what to say to one another.
“Do you want to come in?” you ask him, moving out of the doorway to let him step into your apartment.
Nico shakes his head yes and walks past you, looking towards the mess on the floor in your kitchen.
“What happened here? Is this the crash I heard?” he asks you.
“Yeah, the bag fell and spilled everything. When I went to pick it up, I forgot and used my bad shoulder,” you gesture to your slinged arm.
Nico shakes his head at you, crouching down to pick up the camera disks all over the floor.
“Oh, no, you don’t have to-“
“Well you’re sure as hell not trying to pick them up again,” Nico interrupts you, standing and placing the now full box of disks on your table.
You roll your eyes at him, walking over towards your fridge.
“So, what exactly happened? Jack told me you hurt your shoulder?” he follows you over to your fridge, watching you scan its contents, or lack thereof.
“Well, I was looking at my camera and skated right into a bunch of pucks on the floor, then was too focused on saving the equipment instead of remembering how to fall properly,” you told him, remembering his words during your first skate lesson, telling you not to catch yourself if you fall on the ice.
“See, I told you to just let yourself fall. Never try to catch yourself,” he echoes his words in your thoughts.
“Yeah, well, it’s a lot easier said than done,” you deadpan, shutting your fridge door and looking at Nico.
Your stomach growls at that exact moment, making you groan at your lack of food in your fridge, not having eaten since before your accident.
“When was the last time you ate anything?” Nico asks you, looking down at your growling stomach.
“Uhhh, breakfast?” you recall.
Nico’s eyes widen. “It’s almost midnight. Did they really not feed you at the hospital?” he asks you.
“Considering they were busy doing x-rays and scans to make sure nothing was broken or torn, no,” you walk over to your cabinets, finding them also bare.
“Alright, go sit down and I’ll order us something to eat,” Nico shoos you out of the kitchen, walking over and opening the drawer where you keep all of your takeout menus.
You wonder how he knows where your menus are, forgetting for a moment that he’s over at your apartment at least twice a week after your skating lessons. Sometimes more, the occasional movie night making its way into your weekly routine.
“What do you want? Sushi? Chinese? Burgers?” he questions, flipping through your menus.
For some reason, your brain chooses this moment to register how much you enjoy the sight of Nico in your kitchen, looking through your takeout menus and offering to order you dinner.
You think back to all the times he’s helped you make dinner, laughter filling every moment of your time together. You think about how he always wear his pjs when he comes over for a movie night, bringing a different chocolate candy to put in the popcorn each time. You think about how he somehow learned your coffee order without you ever telling him, bringing you a coffee every morning, even at away games.
You think about your mother’s words, and how you didn’t even have to ask Nico to come over tonight, or to give you skating lessons. You think about how you never have to ask Nico to do anything he does for you – which is a lot, you’re realizing – he just does it. He does it because he wants to, because he’s kind and caring and wants to spend time with you.
“Hello? Earth to Y/N, what do you want for dinner?” Nico snaps you out of your sudden revelation.
“Sorry, spaced out for a second. Must be the pain meds,” you tell him, knowing that your mind isn’t the least bit impaired right now.
“Okay, go sit down, we need to get some food in you then,” he fishes his phone out of his pocket, mumbling out “Can’t believe they pumped you full of meds on an empty stomach.”
You make your way to your couch, sitting down and taking your shoes off, making yourself as comfortable as you can.
You remove a stray piece of hair that fell onto your face, knowing how awful it must look.
When you fell on the ice, the claw clip that was holding your hair in its up-do broke, causing it to fan out over the cold, wet ice. Once you got to the hospital, you were put in and out of so many different machines, you can only imagine the tangled, matted mess it is.
You get up and go to your bathroom, finding your brush and trying to comb it out. The task proving to be difficult with only one hand. The tangles keep pulling your head back and hurting your tender scalp, but you keep trying, whimpering each time the brush gets stuck on a particularly bad tangle.
You don’t even hear Nico approach your bathroom, just a sigh and “I told you to sit down,” before the brush is taken from your hand and you see Nico’s reflection behind you in the mirror.
Without another word, he proceeds to brush your hair for you, ensuring every tangle is gone before setting the brush on your sink.
The two of you make eye contact in the mirror, neither one wanting to break the silence during the surprisingly intimate moment.
You clear your throat, looking down after the silence got too intense, causing Nico to avert his eyes as well.
“I really wish i could wash my hair, but i know that’s a no go tonight,” you chuckle, wishing your bathroom was a little bit bigger in this moment.
“I can braid your hair for you,” Nico starts, staring at you in the mirror, watching your eyes snap up to meet his. “I mean, only if you want,” he stutters out.
“Really?” you ask him, a little stunned.
“Yeah. I used to help Nina with hers all the time when I was younger,” Nico mentions his older sister, grabbing your hair lightly and starting to section it off. “Anytime she would have a sleep over I would always weasel my way into the party. So one day, she made me sit in a braiding chain and learn how to braid her hair.”
You let out a giggle, picturing a smaller version of Nico sitting at the end of a line of girls, braiding their long hair.
“Then, Nina claimed I got so good at it she always wanted me to braid her hair before her volleyball matches, then her friends all started wanting me to do theirs, too,” he continues talking, nearly lulling you to sleep with the soft movements of his hands as you listen to him speak.
“I think that’s adorable,” you quietly speak, closing your eyes.
“What can I say? When a pretty girl needs her hair braided, who am I to keep my skills to myself?” he jokes, making you wonder if he meant you or his sister’s friends.
“I’m sure it’s any little boy’s dream to have an entire volleyball team at his mercy, all those pretty volleyball players begging him to play with their hair,” you tease him, handing him the hair tie that you always keep on your wrist.
“I don’t know, I think playing with a pretty photographer’s hair is better, if you ask me,” he ties the hair tie around the bottom of the braid, reaching up to pull the braid loose, making sure it’s not too tight.
You keep your eyes closed, knowing he can likely see the redness on your cheeks at his words.
“Alright, eyes open. Need to make sure you like my work,” he places his hands on your biceps, making sure to keep his touch feather light on your bad arm.
He turns you around so you’re facing him, holding a handheld mirror that was laying on your sink in front of your face, allowing you to see the reflection of the braid.
You’re shocked to see the flawless Dutch braid that cascades down your back.
“Nico, you’re like…really good at this,” you reach your good hand to the back of your head, running it down the braid.
“Told you, I had a lot of practice,” he shrugs, setting the mirror down.
You yawn, the relaxing nature of having your hair braided allowing you to realize how tired you are from the day’s events.
“Nuh-uh, gotta keep you awake until we get some food in you,” he tuts, taking his hands and patting your cheeks.
You groan, leaning into his palms that stay resting on your face.
“C’mon, let’s get you changed and on the couch,” he motions for you to leave the bathroom.
You walk to your room, Nico helping you carefully remove your sling before leaving and giving you some privacy.
You change into your pajamas, somehow managing to get your arm into an oversized Devils shirt you found at the bottom of your drawer.
Nico is standing outside of your door when you open it, helping you back into your sling.
He stands in front of you, staring at you with a look that you can’t decipher.
“Is…everything okay?” you question him, noticing his stare after adjusting your sling.
His eyes snap up to you, seemingly unaware that he was even staring at you in the first place.
“Uh, yeah, sorry. I just- is that my shirt?” he asks you, pointing to your pj shirt.
You look down at the oversized shirt, trying to think of where you got it.
It had just showed up in your laundry basket one day, assuming it was one they gave you when you got your job, but Nico’s question makes you think harder.
You realize, suddenly, you do remember where you got it.
During one of your post lesson dinners, Nico had spilled his drink all over his shirt. You offered to wash it for him after he changed to a shirt in his duffel.
You meant to take it back to him after you washed it, but forgot about it entirely, packing it away in your pajama drawer.
“Oh, crap, it is. Do you want it back, I can go change?” you ask him, worried he’s upset that you forgot to give it back.
“No…no it’s fine. Keep it. I have plenty,” he shakes his head, glancing down at it once more.
The two of you make your way to your couch, finding something to watch on tv when there’s a knock on the door, signaling the arrival of your food.
You start to stand to go get it, but Nico sternly tells you to stay put.
Rolling your eyes you sit back down, grabbing the remote and continuing to channel surf.
Nico’s gone for longer than you expect, causing you to sit up and turn back towards your kitchen, wondering what’s taking him so long.
You see him walking over to you, a tray full of food in his hands.
He had ordered from your favorite sushi place, figuring it would be the easiest for you to eat one handed.
As he sat down the tray on the coffee table in front of you, you realized what took him so long.
Nico had put a toothpick in each piece of your sushi, knowing using chopsticks with your non dominant hand would have been hard for you. He poured soy sauce into a small container, allowing you to simply pick up each toothpick and dip it in the sauce before popping it in your mouth.
He had also ordered you a bottle of cherry coke, which he knew was your favorite, and placed it on the tray with the lid unscrewed and a straw peeking out of the bottle next to a glass of ice, just incase you wanted it that way instead.
You looked up at him, feeling that funny feeling in your chest like you did earlier in your kitchen, blown away at how he always seems to think of everything he can to help you out, even when you’re not injured.
You must’ve been looking for longer than you realized, because he cocks his head at you, confusion present on his face.
“What?” he asks, not understanding what’s wrong. “Did you not want sushi? I thought you said it was always the one thing that could cheer you up?”
You shake your head at him. “No, sushi is perfect,” you tell him, a small smile on your face as you look up at him.
He smiles back for a few moments, then started scooting the coffee table towards you so you don’t have to reach to grab your food. He moves around the table to sit beside of you, the size of the small table causing him to sit so close to you that you can feel the warmness of his large thigh against yours.
You once again think about all of the things he’s done for you without you even having to ask. Now including coming over after a game—no doubt exhausted and sore—and taking care of you without even thinking twice. Braiding your hair and calling you pretty. Staring at you unintentionally wearing his t-shirt. Modifying your food so it’s easier for you to eat with one hand.
You sit there, staring at the man you fear you’re falling in love with, already planning out the apology text you’re going to have to send your mom.
764 notes · View notes
corroded-hellfire · 28 days
Note
Even though it's wayyy off into the future - how about Eliza getting her first period and Y/N isn't there so "poor" Eddie has to deal with it
(I got my first period very early, like even though I knew what it was it was a big shock, and I was like 'I don't want this - mom, make it go away!', so I was thinking something like that)
As soon as I saw your request, the wheels in my brain started turning. This would not leave me alone until I got it all out lol. I hope you enjoy!
Words: 3k
Warnings: talk of periods, blood
[As You Wish masterlist]
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“Dad?” 
Eliza creeps out of the hotel bathroom, eyes on the dark gray carpeting as she approaches the queen-sized bed Eddie is lounging on. Without even looking up at her, Eddie can tell something is wrong. Not only is her voice shaky, but she called him “Dad” when, even at twelve-years-old, she still usually calls him “Daddy.” 
“What’s up?” Eddie lifts his head and watches his preteen daughter move past his bed and sit on the edge of her own. 
“Can I have your phone?” Eliza asks.
She still doesn’t look up at him, instead choosing to look down at her pink polka-dot socks. Her fingers fidget on the white comforter, chipped blush-colored nail polish scratching against the side of her jeans. 
“What for?”
Eddie is more than happy to let her use it, but he wants to get to the bottom of what’s wrong first. 
Instead of answering right away, the girl’s cheeks darken, and she gently shakes her head from side to side. 
“To call Mom.”
“Of course,” he says, lifting his hips off the bed so he can pull his phone out of his pocket. “Is everything okay?”
Eliza nods, but her wobbling chin and eyes pooling with tears make a liar out of the motion. 
“Eliza…”
Eddie moves to sit on the edge of his bed, his knees almost bumping into hers in the space between the two beds. 
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
“I-I wanna talk to Mom,” Eliza says, quickly wiping away a tear that falls down her cheek. 
“Okay.” Eddie feels his heart seizing up in his chest. He understands Eliza wanting her mom, but the fact that she’s not telling him what’s wrong is causing panic signals to fire off in his brain. “Are you alright?”
She sniffles, still not meeting his eye, and holds her hand out for the phone. 
As reluctant as he is to give it to her without getting any answers in return, he knows you’ll take care of whatever is going on. There’s no doubt in Eddie’s mind that you’re the best mother his children could ever have. So, he lays the phone in Eliza’s open palm.
“Thanks,” she mumbles as she scoots up towards her pillows, perching in the opposite corner of her bed—as far from Eddie as she can be, he notices.
Her dad watches as Eliza wipes under her nose with one hand while she pulls up your contact information. With another sniffle, your daughter holds the phone up to her ear and pulls her knees up against her chest. As she waits for you to answer, she brings her thumb up to her mouth and begins to clink her nail against her two front teeth. 
“Hello?”
Your voice simultaneously calms her, but also makes the tears that have been threatening to fall finally spill.
“Hi, M-Mom.”
“Eliza? Honey, what’s wrong?” Like Eddie, you also know the ins and outs of your daughter’s tells.
“I, um…” Eliza’s eyes dart over to her father, but quickly fall back to her free hand resting against her knee. It doesn’t escape Eddie’s notice that this was the first time she even glanced in his direction since she came out of the bathroom. “When, I, uh…”
Eddie decides to give his girls some privacy. He stands up from the bed and steps into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. Ringed fingers drum against the cool porcelain tile. Eddie doesn’t have to go, so he picks up his toothbrush and figures he might as well take care of his dental hygiene while he’s in here.
With Eddie in the bathroom, Eliza feels a little freer to speak—even if she knows he can probably still hear from in there. 
“Mom, there was blood in my underwear,” Eliza says. 
“Oh!” You definitely weren’t expecting that, as much as you probably should have been since she’s at this age. “Well, you know what that is, right sweetie? We talked about it.”
“N-No, I know,” Eliza says. “I don’t want it though. I want it to go away.”
You sigh, wishing you could reach through the phone and hug your daughter. 
“Liza, you know that’s not going to happen.”
“Mommy, make it go away,” she whines, making your heart crack. 
“Everything is going to be just fine, honey. I’m sorry I’m not there, though,” you say. “Did you tell Daddy?”
“No,” Eliza mumbles, picking at the hem of her jeans. “Don’t wanna.”
“Sweetheart, I know it’s embarrassing. But he’s your dad. You’re in just as good hands with him as you are with me.”
“Not with this,” Eliza scoffs. 
“Yes, even with this,” you assure her. “Do you want me to talk to him? Tell him what he needs to buy you?”
“Yeah,” Eliza says. “I don’t think I’ll remember anyway.”
“I’ll also text it to him,” you say. “It’s just going to be some pads, okay? They’re pretty easy but if you want to FaceTime later, I can help you. Have you seen Luke yet?”
“No,” Eliza says. “We just got to the hotel, and I went to the bathroom and…saw.”
“Okay. Where’s Daddy?”
“In the bathroom.”
“Going? Or did you just banish him there?”
Eliza giggles softly and you’re able to relax a little. 
“Neither, I don’t think.”
“Go knock and hand him the phone, then.”
Eliza pushes herself off the bed, doing a double take to make sure she didn’t leave any red spots behind on the white comforter, and heads over to the bathroom door.
“Daddy?” She knocks three times.
Eddie opens the door and spits out the water he used to rinse his mouth into the sink.
“What’s up?”
“Here.” She holds the phone out towards him.
He eyes Eliza carefully as he takes it, trying to gauge if she’s feeling better or not.
“Hello?” Eddie asks.
“Hi,” you say. Already your voice has him feeling calmer. It’s just the effect you have on him.
“Hey, what’s going on?”
Eliza scurries away as her dad asks that question. She’d rather not look at him while you deliver the news.
“Eliza got her first period,” you say with a sigh. 
“Oh.” Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up towards his hairline. He should have been expecting this at some point, right? Yet he feels entirely blindsided by hearing that his little girl has started turning into a woman. 
“You both really wish I was there, don’t you?” you ask with a chuckle. 
“Yes,” he answers without hesitation. “Yes, very much so.”
“Well, you need to be there for her now. She’s already feeling embarrassed and wishes this wasn’t happening.”
“I can do that,” Eddie says, sounding less than confident.
“Eddie.” 
“I can!”
“Good. When are you guys seeing Luke?” you ask.
“We’re having dinner with him,” your husband tells you. “Going to pick him up from his apartment in a little while.”
“Okay. She’s going to need pads before you go. I’ll text you what kind you should get. And then ones for bedtime, too.”
“There are different ones for bed?” Eddie asks. “What, do they have a clock on them or something?”
“Yes, they do make ones for bed,” you say with an amused chuckle. “But no, there’s no clock. It’s because she’ll be laying down for so long, the nighttime ones are longer to cover more underwear.”
“Oh.” Eddie clears his throat. “That makes sense.”
“God, you’re funny,” you say with a full out laugh. “Eds, why does this all seem so new to you? We’ve been together over fifteen years now and I still get mine like clockwork. And before that, I know Brittany had one or our two favorite knuckleheads wouldn’t be here.”
“Well, yeah,” Eddie says, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. “I’ve bought that kind of stuff for both of you, but I never paid attention. I didn’t need to!”
“Now you do, Pops. This is all new and scary for Eliza.”
“Yeah, me too,” Eddie adds. 
“You’ll be fine. She will too, but you have to help make sure of it. She’s still your little Liza.”
“Always,” Eddie says. 
“Good. Now go to the store. I told her I’d FaceTime and help her if she needs it, but I think she’s got it. She and I have had this talk before.”
“Okay,” Eddie says. “Uh, anything else?”
“Just be normal about it. As normal as you can be. Oh! And get her some Midol. And KitKats. Chocolate might be her lifesaver.”
“Her favorite, got it.”
“I’ll text you the mini list. Does she want to talk to me again?” you ask. 
“Lize?” Eddie calls. When she looks up at him, he holds out the phone. “Anything else for Mom?”
She nods and walks over to take the phone.
“Hi,” she says, voice soft and small.
“Hi, sweet pea. You’re okay. I’m going to text Daddy what to buy and you can call me whenever you want to.”
“Okay,” Eliza responds, still quiet. 
“I love you,” you say.
“I love you, too.”
“I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”
“Okay,” Eliza repeats.
“Bye, baby.”
“Bye.”
Eliza hands the phone back to Eddie, looking at his stomach instead of his face. Eddie pockets the phone and sighs. He wraps his arm around Eliza’s shoulders and pats her arm.
“It’s okay, kid,” he says reassuringly. “I’ve got ya.”
Eliza nods and stays quiet for a moment before she buries her face in her father’s chest. Her arms cling to him as she cries and sniffles against his dark blue Tennessee tourist t-shirt he bought at the rest stop right over the border. 
Eddie frowns, his heart hurting at seeing his little girl so confused and upset. Puberty was a bitch for him—he can’t imagine what it must be like for a girl. He presses a few kisses against her dark curls that are tucked up in a ponytail. 
“Come on,” Eddie mumbles against her hair. “Mom said to buy you some KitKats, but I think we should clear out the whole stock of chocolate.”
Eliza pulls back and rubs her right eye with her fist as she looks up at her dad. He breathes a sigh of relief that she’ll finally meet his eye. 
“Can we get cookies t-too?” she asks.
“Cookies too,” Eddie agrees with a chuckle. 
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The trip to the store wasn’t nearly as bad as either Munson thought it was going to be. Eddie had your list, the two of them quickly spotted the needed feminine supplies, then they booked it over to the candy and cookies. 
Eddie puts the bags in the backseat and the two of them get back in the car.
“Alright,” Eddie says as he starts the engine. “Put your brother’s address in my GPS, please.”
Eliza scoffs a laugh as she grabs her dad’s phone to do as he said.
“What would you do without me being your tech support?” she asks.
“Call one of your siblings,” Eddie says, backing the car out of the parking space. 
“If you could figure out how to dial them,” Eliza teases as she snaps her father’s phone back into the car mount so he can see the directions.
“Such a smart ass,” Eddie muses. 
“Thanks!” Eliza beams. “I learned it from my father.”
“Well, he sounds like a hilarious and devastatingly handsome man,” Eddie says. 
“Meh.” Eliza shrugs and Eddie reaches over to dig his fingers in right above Eliza’s knee: her most ticklish spot. She squeals and her father eventually relents when he has to turn right down a road. 
The closer they get to Luke’s college campus, the more orange they see. Knoxville is sure brimming with school spirit. 
Luke’s apartment complex isn’t far from campus, so it’s easy to find. Eliza looks out at the red brick building and is surprised to find it just as clean as when they dropped Luke off here last year. Knowing her older brother, she assumed there would be cheeseburger wrappers littered around or an assortment of ridiculously posed lawn gnomes. 
“Do you want to call Mom before we get him?” Eddie asks.
She shakes her head. Eliza was able to get herself situated with a pad in the store’s bathroom. When you’d texted to see how things were going, Eddie had replied with a thumbs up emoji—once he found it. 
As much as Eliza wishes you were with her for her first period and the whirlwind of emotions that come with it, she likes having this small road trip time with just her dad. It was a little over five hours to drive from Hawkins, Indiana to Knoxville, Tennessee, but it was fun. Anything Eddie and Eliza did together was fun. Of course she misses you and everyone else back home, but this little trip is nice. 
“All right,” Eddie says. “Let’s go get the troublemaker.”
“Too late,” Eliza says. “Speak of the devil…”
Eddie looks up and sees Luke jogging out of his apartment building, big grin on his face as he sees his family. He walks over to the passenger side of the car and Eliza hitches her thumb over her shoulder to tell her older brother that he’s sitting in the back seat. No way was she giving up front seat privileges when she so rarely got them. 
Luke pulls open the back door and slides into the car.
“Mi familia!” Luke cries. He leans over the headrest in front of him to place a big smacking kiss on the top of Eliza’s head before leaning over toward Eddie’s side and wrapping his arms around his father as tightly as he can at this angle. 
“You’re so dramatic,” Eliza complains with a chuckle.
“Oh, come on,” Luke says as he plops down into his seat. “The three most dramatic Munsons are all in this car right now.”
“And, shockingly,” Eddie says as he backs out of the parking space, “I get the bronze medal.”
“Well, you always want your children to do better than you, right Dad?” Luke shifts and his foot kicks the plastic bag containing Eliza’s period needs and snacks. The top corner of a bag of cookies is sticking out and Luke’s focus is locked. “Ooh, did you buy me snacks?”
He stretches to snag the bag handle and plops it down on the seat next to him.
“No!” Eliza cries, trying to turn around in her seat and snatch the bag away before he notices what’s inside. But she’s too late.
Luke lifts out a package of sanitary pads and his eyes widen as he looks from the frilly lilac design to his sister staring back at him with a tomato red face. Slowly, as if she were attempting to go unnoticed, Eliza spins back around to face forward in her seat.
Eddie doesn’t say anything, just waits for his son to speak. He doesn’t want to jump down Luke’s throat for making fun of his little sister if the crime hasn’t even been committed yet. Eddie’s expecting anything from “gross, periods” to “ew, you have cooties now!” But he definitely wasn’t expecting…
“My little girl is growing up!”
Eliza drops her head forward into her hands and Eddie bites down on his bottom lip to keep from smiling. 
“Alright, Luke,” Eddie says, “don’t traumatize your sister.”
“I’m not!” Luke protests. “I’m just saying I can’t believe she’s hitting puberty!”
“Luke, I’m going to stab you,” Eliza grits out between her teeth.
“Oh, there are the hormones!” Luke says. 
“Okay, guys,” Eddie interjects. “Enough.”
“Does the family know yet?” Luke asks, leaning forward to stick his head between the driver’s and passenger’s seats. “Did I miss a text in the family group chat?”
“No,” Eliza seethes.
“We have to tell Ryan! Oh, wait, oh my God. We have to tell Grandpa that his little girl is becoming a woman!”
The car rolls up to a red light and Eliza immediately unbuckles her seatbelt.
“That’s it!”
She leaps into the back seat, landing right on top of her brother. Luke laughs as she tries to pin him down, her twelve-year-old frame not as strong as his twenty-two-year-old one. But she will never give up. This is the same girl who at less than a year old learned how to throw her entire body weight onto her big brothers and knock the wind out of them. 
“Is this any way to treat your brother that you haven’t seen in months?” Luke asks as Eliza wrestles for control of his arms.
“When that brother is you? Yes.”
“Aww, Dad needs to get you a phone,” Luke says as he finally puts in the effort and is able to wrangle Eliza into a hold where he can squeeze her in an approximation of a hug. “That way I can talk to you more.”
“Buckle up back there,” is all Eddie says as the light turns green. 
There’s the snapping of a seatbelt being locked, rummaging through the plastic bag, then the noise from the backseat dissipates. 
“You better not steal my cookies,” Eddie hears Eliza mumble to her brother.
“You let me have one and I’ll give you a half-full tube of Pringles from my apartment.”
“What flavor?”
Eddie smiles to himself as he eyes the restaurants that pass by on the main road. He’s looking for a good one to take his son and daughter to, but he’s also enjoying hearing the two of them be their usual selves with one another. It’s been too long since they’ve lived under the same roof, Eddie feels. Then again, he feels that any time any of his kids aren’t under his roof is too long. They’re still his babies, it doesn’t matter how old they are.
“Cheddar and sour cream,” Luke answers his sister.
There’s a beat of silence as Eliza thinks it over.
“Okay. Deal.”
Eddie silently chuckles to himself. Luke may be a college student now, and Eliza might be becoming a woman, but they’re still the rugrats that Eddie’s known and loved since the days they were born.
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the-offside-rule · 10 days
Text
Patricio O'Ward (Arrow McLaren) - Taste Of Home
Requested: yes
Prompt: Y/n is the youngest Leclerc and is missing home so Pato brings home to her
Warnings: tooth rotting fluff
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Y/n sighed as she leaned back on the couch in the house she now shared with her boyfriend, Pato. It had been an exciting move, leaving behind her life in Monaco to support Pato in his IndyCar career, but tonight, the homesickness gnawed at her more than usual. The city was bustling, yet felt so different from the cozy streets of Monte Carlo, and she missed the warmth of home, the chatter of her brothers, and the comfort of her mother’s cooking. Pato turned his attention away from the TV as he heard his girlfriend moving beside him, noticing the way she was staring blankly at her laptop, her mind far away.
“You okay, mi amor?” Pato asked, his hand strokingher knee. His dark eyes were full of concern. “Yeah, I’m fine." Y/n smiled softly, though her tone betrayed her. "Just missing home tonight, I guess." Pato shifted, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her close. "What do you miss most? Besides Charles making fun of you?" Y/n chuckled at that, leaning her head on Pato's shoulder. “Everything, really. Charles, Lorenzo, Arthur. My mom's carbonara, and just being surrounded by family. It was weird being the youngest sometimes, but they always made me feel you know, like I belonged.” Pato's soft smile turned to a flat line, thinking of what he could do.
“Tell me a story,” Pato suggested, wanting to cheer her up. “About you and your brothers.” She thought for a moment, her face softening as memories surfaced. “Okay, I’ve got one. So, when I was about seven, Charles and Arthur thought it’d be funny to teach me how to ride a bike. But they didn’t tell me how to brake properly." Pato laughed. "That sounds like a disaster waiting to happen."
“Oh, it was." Y/n nodded with a smile. "I rode straight into our neighbor’s garden and crashed into her rose bushes. I was crying, covered in thorns, and instead of comforting me, Charles was laughing so hard he was practically rolling on the floor. Arthur was trying to hide so he wouldn’t get in trouble. But Lorenzo, being the responsible big brother, came and pulled me out of the bushes, all while giving Charles and Arthur a lecture.” Pato shook his head with a grin. “So Charles was always a troublemaker?”
“Always.” Y/n confirmed with a fond laugh. “But he had his moments where he was sweet too. He’s protective, you know? When I went to my first school dance, he grilled the poor boy who asked me to be his date. Charles practically had the poor guy sweating.” Pato laughed louder this time. "Yeah, that sounds like him. Protective older brother mode.” Y/n had loosened up a bit, reminiscing on the past she had in Monaco. “Yep. And Arthur’s no better. Honestly, they all think I need constant watching.” Y/n yawned softly, her tiredness creeping in after a long day at university. “I miss them, though.”
“I know you do.” Pato said, kissing her temple softly. "You should get some rest. It's been a long day, amor." Y/n looked at the time on her laptop. "Yeah, I think I will.” Y/n stood up, stretching. “I’ll head to bed. I’ve got an early class tomorrow.” Pato smiled as she leaned down and placed a delicate kiss onto his lips. “Goodnight, mi amor. I love you.”
“Love you too, Pato.” Y/n smiled before turning and heading for the stairs. As soon as the door closed, Pato pulled out his phone, an idea sparking in his mind. He scrolled through his contacts until he found Charles’ number and sent a message.
Pato Hey man, quick question. Y/n’s feeling really homesick tonight and I was thinking… can you send me your family’s carbonara recipe? I want to surprise her tomorrow.
Pato stared at his phone, unsure if Charles would respond quickly. But within moments, his screen lit up with a reply.
Charles Hey, mate. Of course, I’ll send it over. You trying to impress my sister with your cooking? 😂
Pato Haha, yeah, something like that. She told me she misses your mom’s carbonara, so I thought it might help.
Charles Give me a second, I’ll write it down for you.
A minute later, Charles sent over a series of detailed instructions, with a few extra tips for making sure the dish turned out just right. Pato read through the messages carefully, determined to get it perfect.
Charles And don’t overcook the pasta! I swear, if you serve it mushy, Y/n will never let you live it down.
Pato Haha, I’ll do my best. Thanks, man.
With the recipe in hand, Pato felt a surge of excitement. He could picture Y/n’s face lighting up when she came home to find a taste of Monaco waiting for her.
The next day, after Y/n left for her morning classes, Pato got to work. He drove to the store, carefully selecting only the best ingredients for the pasta dish. He came home, cleaned up a bit and set to work cooking. No one said it would be easy and it certainly wasn't for such a simple dish. He followed Charles’ recipe to the letter, carefully whisking the eggs and cheese together, cooking the pancetta until it was crisp, and boiling the pasta to al dente perfection. His kitchen was soon filled with the comforting smell of home-cooked food, and he couldn’t help but feel proud of himself for pulling it off. Pato had managed to spill sowm egg here and there, a bit of sliced guanciale on the floor (nothing Norbi couldn't help with), but he got there. He had done it. He had to admit, he ate a bowl or two whilst waiting for Y/n to get back.
Just as he was plating the carbonara, he heard the front door open. Y/n walked in, looking exhausted but surprised when she caught the scent wafting through the apartment. “Oh that smells delicious! Pato, what are you cooking?” She asked, setting her bag down. Pato turned to her with a grin, holding up two plates of the golden, creamy pasta. “Surprise! I made your family’s carbonara.” Her eyes widened, and her heart melted instantly. “You what?”
“I called Charles and got the recipe,” Pato explained, walking over to hand her a plate. “I know you’ve been homesick, and I wanted to bring a little bit of home here for you.” Y/n stared at him, her eyes soft with emotion. “Pato this is amazing. You didn’t have to do all this.” She smiled, her hand caressing his cheek. “I wanted to,” Pato said, his voice gentle. “You mean the world to me, Y/n. I want you to feel at home, even here.” She smiled, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, and took a bite. “This is perfect,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “It tastes just like home.” Pato sat down beside her, watching as she ate with a soft smile. “I’m glad you like it.” Y/n leaned over and kissed his cheek. “I love it. And I love you.”
“I love you too,” Pato whispered, feeling a wave of warmth and contentment wash over him. He’d brought a piece of Monaco to Miami, and in that moment, it felt like home; because Y/n was with him.
429 notes · View notes
lulunothulu · 1 month
Text
“So you think I’m hot?” Pt. 3
Tyler Owens x Reader
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Summary: After nursing you to health, Tyler finally makes a move on you…and you may or may not want to accept it
Contents: some swearing, some blood, and LOTS of fluff
Word count: idk but I think it’s long 😂
Catch up here: Part 1!! Part 2!!
“Y/N!” You hear Kate call from outside. “Are you okay in there?”
You’d fallen asleep after Tyler brought you back to your hotel room. Did Tyler ever leave? If he did, you weren’t going to be able to open the door for Kate. You’re about to panic when you realize there’s something heavy on your stomach.
Not something…someone.
Fuck.
You turn to your left to find a sleeping Tyler cuddled up against you, an arm draped on your stomach the other under your head.
“Y/N, if you can’t get up let us know,” you hear Javi say. “We got an extra key from downstairs.”
FUCK.
“I’m fine!” You yell, startling Tyler but not waking him. “I have crutches but I’m just resting! You guys go on and get data from yesterday’s tornado.”
“Are you sure?” Kate asks.
“Yes!”
“Okay, well text us if you need anything,” you hear her say before their footsteps fade away.
You sigh, turning to Tyler who’s wide awake and smiling at you.
“Good morning sleeping beauty,” you say.
“So I’m a beauty now?” He teases.
“I swear to god Tyler it’s too early for this shit.” You smile.
Tyler only smiles at you, just staring.
“What?” You ask, propping yourself up on your elbows.
“Nothing,” he tells you, crossing his arms behind his head. His biceps bulge in the long-sleeved flannel, making your heart flutter.
Why did that make you wanna touch them?
Tyler notices the way you stare at him and smirks, pumping his bicep muscles in a playful manner. You clear your throat and begin to get off the bed, forgetting about your leg.
“Ow, fuck,” you seethe, your breath hitching in pain.
Tyler sits up in bed, scrambling to your side of the bed before squatting before you.
“Are you okay?” His green eyes searching yours for more signs of pain. “Do you need some pain killers?”
The way his hands hold your right leg makes you feel all tingly inside, the way he looks at you doesn’t help. He’s waiting for you to tell him what’s wrong, worry etched on his handsome face. Even the way his hair, normally styled to perfection, is now all messy seems to do things to you.
Warm and fuzzy feelings begin to form around your heart and you can feel the annoyance you once had for him, melt away.
It’s making you want to do something reckless.
“I’m fine, Tyler,” you tell him. “I forgot about my injury.”
His eyes calm, softening on you before he nods and sniffles.
“You’ve never called me by my first name,” he says softly.
“There’s a first time for everything.”
You stare at one another for a few seconds that feel like hours. The longer you stare, the more you realize how attracted to him you are.
Fuck this is gonna be a problem.
“Do you need me to help you change the bandages?” He asks, clearing the silence.
You nod, handing him the wrapping on the nightstand.
Very carefully, Tyler removes the bandage around your thigh. Concentration fills his facial expression, brows furrowed and tongue out. He stops when you suck in a breath, head jolting to face you.
“Sorry, it’s still kinda tender,” You apologetically tell him.
He smiles up at you before continuing with the dressing.
“So where are you from?” He asks.
You grit your teeth in pain before answering, “Originally, Chicago. I grew up in Tennessee though.”
“What brought you to Tennessee?” He continues.
You realize he’s trying to keep you distracted from the pain and flash him a thankful smile. “My parents wanted to reconnect with nature. They have a little ranch out there.”
“What got you into tornadoes?” He asks, now finishing up with the bandaging.
“There was a really bad tornado,” you whisper. “My family’s farm was destroyed. I think I was eight at the time.” You chuckle. “My Mom was screaming for me to get away from the windows but all I wanted to do was stare up at this beautiful tornado. It was so surreal, it looked like the one from the Wizard Of Oz.”
You smile at the memory. “Mom was so mad when I turned to her and said ‘Look mom, it’s so pretty’.”
Tyler chuckles, hands still on your thigh, lightly caressing the skin below the bandage.
“What about you?” You ask. “What got you into chasing?”
“When I was a kid, I was driving with my aunt,” he starts, smiling at his own memory. “This beautiful cyclone just crossed our path and I couldn’t help but stare. It was gorgeous.”
He laughs before looking down at your leg.
“I was so entranced by it, I didn’t realize my aunt was screaming bloody murder. She was absolutely terrified.”
“Where you?” You ask. “Terrified?”
He looks up at you, the sight of him still kneeling before you making you warm.
“I was.”
Without thinking, you lean forward, placing your hands on Tyler’s shoulders.
They’re warm, muscular.
You snake your hands up his neck, resting on either side of his face. You brush your thumbs on his cheeks and back to his ears, watching as Tyler’s eyes roll to the back of his head and his eyelids flutter.
You didn’t know what came over you to do that. You felt the urge to do it so you did it.
When his eyes open again, you smile at him. Genuinely and thankful.
“Thank you,” you start, whispering as if someone would hear you. “For helping me.”
Tyler leans forward, just inches from your lips. His head was tilted up, waiting for you to finish crossing the line you dangled right before him.
“You’re welcome, darling,” he whispers right back.
You open your legs, scooting forward to have him between you. Arms wrap around your waist as Tyler pulls you close, careful not to touch your bad leg. You hold on tightly, wrapping your arms around Tyler’s neck as he lifts you.
You’re so close now, you wanted to kiss him. This was nothing like you’d ever imagined. Never mind with him.
For the few months you’d known him, you wanted to strangle him. But maybe it was just your mind trying to make sure you don’t fall for him. After all, he was your type.
Tall, handsome, rugged, and absolutely annoyingly reckless.
“Tyler,” you whisper.
“Yeah?”
“I would really like to kiss you,” you tell him truthfully.
“Me too.”
“But I’m in so much pain.”
He quickly says you down, still holding you by the waist. “I’m sorry.”
You smile, cupping his cheek in your hand. “Try again in a week when I’m healed.”
He smiles down at you, leaning close and kissing your cheek.
“Deal.”
A/N: Okay yes, I’m gonna have a part 4 bc they NEED to kiss 😂
Next part!!!
547 notes · View notes
barleyo · 4 months
Text
Rural Bliss.
Real Dad! Leon X F! Reader (smut)
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A/N: You, as a reader, are responsible for your own media consumption. It is up to you to read the tags that I have provided and determine whether or not this is a piece of writing that you would like to partake in. If not, scroll on by, if you do, please enjoy! Remember, I am not responsible for any discomfort you feel if you choose to read this.
Tags: incest (daddy-daughter), dub-con, oral (f receiving), LARGE AGE GAP (18 and 40+), pwp (light plot), mentions of predatory behavior, mutual creepiness, dark and disturbing content, choppy ass writing
Wordcount: 1.8k
!!! DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT/DARK CONTENT !!!
Your mom had finally done it. She found a halfway decent guy and let him wife her up faster than you could say 'I do.' You weren't exactly mad about it. He was a decent enough guy, and he made your mom happy, so whatever. The only part that you were against was the fact that you would be staying with your estranged father for the rest of your summer until your mom and her boy-toy got back from their extensive honeymoon.
Your dad fucked off pretty quickly after you were born. Moved himself far away into the middle of nowhere, not once reaching out or keeping in touch. A small part of you wanted to know him, but a larger part of you was pissed that you would have to now temporarily live with a man who you could just barely remember the name of. 
What was it again? Leonard? Lucas? No, no, that's not right. Leon? Yeah, something like that. Leon. 
Leon, the man who left you and your mom. The man who, instead of raising you, decided to lick his wounds in the deep country, likely making a meager living off of growing potatoes and carrots. The man who was a stranger, connected to you only by blood. 
The man whose front porch you were currently standing on, banging on his door without a care in the world. You looked around while you knocked. It was a large bit of land. A few neighbors nearby, but not within spitting distance. At the very least, this town had a few stores with maybe a few people your age lingering around them. 
"I'm coming, damn it!" His steps were loud, you could hear them from all the way outside. The heaviness of his work boots must've weighed him down quite a bit. The screen door flew open and his face softened. "Oh, hey kid. Didn't know you'd be here so early. Come in." 
You followed him inside, letting your eyes trail his face and frame. You'd only seen a picture or two of him before. He wasn't quite what you were expecting. He looked a lot older now than he did in the photos. More tired, less lively. His crow's feet and smile lines stuck out, but if the lonely, uncomfortable vibe of his house was any clue, you assumed he hadn't been smiling much in his life. 
He wasn't bad looking, though. Time hasn't weathered him, and you could tell he took care of himself. His arms and chest looked strong, clearly he had found some way to stay fit out in his desolate chunk of farmer-country. You could see why your mom picked him. He looked like a good one, despite his fleeting nature. 
"You're gonna be stayin' for a few months, yeah?" Leon didn't seem uncomfortable with your presence, so you felt a bit more calm.
"Yeah, I guess so. Mom didn't really give me all the details, just kinda sprung it on me."
"Believe me, I know," he said under his breath. "Well, this place isn't much, 'm sure it's not what you're used to." He locked the door behind you and flashed an apologetic look. 
"It's fine. I'll make it work." You looked around. It looked lived in, strangely worn despite nobody else ever living there.
He led you down a dimly lit hallway, the floorboards groaning beneath their weight, until they reached a single room. It was a small bedroom, adorned with faded wallpaper and completely wooden furniture. The single window offered a glimpse of the bare, green landscape outside. 
"This'll be your room. You can unpack your things."
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Hardly a week passed by and you were already sick to death of living with your dad. His jokes were bad. His cooking was shit. His attempts at bonding with you were creepy at best and damn near-assault at worst. He let his hands drift all over you when he pulled you in for hugs and tried pecking a kiss on your mouth before you went off to bed each night, and damn it, you let him.
Again and again, every night, letting that old man press his chapped lips against yours, holding back your urge to force your tongue into his mouth.
He bought you gifts that no other fathers would think about getting their daughters. Skimpy little clothes that left nothing to the imagination, while he wrote it off by claiming ignorance.
"That's what girls your age wear, right? I can't keep up with what you kids are into," Leon would say, covering his ass with feigned dopiness. 
His only redeeming quality was that he was hot and mostly oblivious. It was fucked up to think about it that way, but without having much other male contact during your stay, Leon was starting to becoming quite the piece of eye candy. The best part is that he thought nothing of it, acting like his teenaged daughter spending hours staring at his half-naked, sweaty body while he worked in the hot sun was normal. Just another day. Nothing special. 
He didn't make you work on the farm with him, so you got to do all the watching. You got to see those strong arms lift hay bales for the horses and chop trees for firewood. Most of your days were spent watching him from the front porch, mentally cursing yourself out when you felt your thighs clench together instinctually at his sexy movements. 
What was wrong with you? 
Were years of fatherlessness finally catching up to you? Couldn't muster any real love for the old man, so sexual yearning was the next best thing? Eye-fucking your dad and sharing touches that lasted too long were the cost of him skipping out on you.
You rationalized it the best you could. Maybe you didn't actually want him, maybe the solitude of the countryside was getting to you. Maybe there was something in the air, some kind of sex-pollen floating in the breeze that made you wanna get bent over by a man twice your age that just so happened to be related to you. Closely related.
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Leon didn't really know how to treat a woman well, but he tried his best with you. It was his first time really being a dad, but honestly, he hated it. Being a 'dad' sucked, especially when he'd rather have his daughter as his girlfriend. 
You made him so frustrated, so unsure of himself. Leon's only experience with girl's your age was in getting them liquor they couldn't legally buy themselves, fucking them like plastic sex dolls, and leaving them for someone else to woo and screw. 
He couldn't quite do that to you, though. He couldn't get you drunk and take advantage of you, pumping and dumping in you without a care about your pleasure. He had to take care of you, your health and comfort. All he really wanted was to take care of your body.
You were his little girl. He'd fuck you like he actually gave a damn about you if he ever got the chance, and he most definitely wouldn't be leaving you for anyone else.
That type of thinking brought him here. 
"Daddy, please..."
The walls in his house were too damn thin. He could practically hear each thrust of your fingers into your cunt from his bedroom. Your bed screeched agonizingly against the floors, punctuating your moans and hisses of pleasure. 
He saw his opportunity and took it. He had waited long enough, and this was the least he could do, right? You needed him, right? Right.
He pushed your door open, not having the decency nor the self-restraint to knock. You felt your body go still, but kept your hands between your legs. 
"If you needed me, coulda told me. Don't like t'hear you in here whining." Leon sat on the edge of your bed, crawling his way between your legs. "Fuck, that's pretty." 
He took in the sight of your fingers stuffed into your pudgy cunt, slick dripping between each digit. 
"No, you're—! this isn't what it—" you tried prying your fingers out, but a strong hand wrapped around your wrist to keep you in place.
"Isn't what it looks like? How about what it sounds like, huh? Sounds like you want your daddy to dull that ache in you." 
He was so far gone. He normally never did this. Leon was a man who took. He took younger girls virginity, mouth, pussy, or other. He was the one that got sucked off and got his perv dick wet. But for his baby? You, the little nymph who fell gracefully into his grasp? He was foaming at the mouth for a chance to slurp your pussy.
"Open up, come on. Got nothin' to be shy about," he urged, forcing your legs open, pulling your fingers out, and shimmying closer to you. "Nothin' I haven't seen before."
That was somewhat of a lie. Sure, he saw pussies all the time when he bullied his cock into them, but he was normally never nose to clit, ready to lick.
He stuck his needy tongue out, lapping up the juices that you worked up when you rubbed yourself raw. He swirled around you clit as a test, trying to see what felt good for you. He soon settled on puckering his lips around your bud and sucking, swapping his spit in and out of his mouth to keep you lubed up. 
Your voice broke with hushed whines and chants. Yes's and oh's rang out, filling Leon's ears and his ego. 
He pulled his head back and lob a wad of spit onto your clit, chuckling when you shivered. 
"Feel good?" His thumb traced your clit in little figure eights. 
"Mm, s'good." Your hands trailed through his thick, soft hair. You gripped it tightly, pulling his head back to your cunt. "No, don't stop, jus' need your mouth again."
His sharp, strong nose bumped against the top of your pussy while he munched down on you greedily. His tongue traveled around you in an indecisive manner. One moment, he was using flat strokes to lick on your swollen nub, then pointing his tongue while he fucked it in and out of you. 
Despite the sporadic nature of it, the warmth and wetness of the contact of his mouth on you felt like heaven. It didn't matter what he was doing, as long as he was looking up at you with his piercing eyes and swallowing down your slick, you were satisfied.
"Dad, oh my God, yes!" It felt like venom coming off of your tongue when you moaned it, but tasted like honey at the same time. Something about it was so wrong, but felt so natural.
As your legs tightened around Leon's head and trapped him between your thighs, you knew it was meant to be. You were meant to be your daddy's princess. You were meant to feel like mouth on you, to be spoiled by his tongue, words, money, and his cock. You had been missing out on it for so long. 
You spent the rest of your summer making up for lost time, discovering just what having a daddy was meant to feel like.
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vagabond-umlaut · 1 year
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every rose and its 'twin prickles'
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Or: you and the two fearsome monsters, your knightly husband must wage a war against everyday, for the sake of a glimpse of you.
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▸ dad!gojo satoru x mom!reader; 1.45 wc; fluff, fluff, gallons and gallons of fluff; a pair of cute, possessive and too-wise-for-their-age babies who love their mama wayyy too much; poor miserable deprived 'toru; sprinkles of humor too added in there; implied no curses!au
▸ i dump the blame of this on @afortoru's shoulders. A, look what you made me do ▸ writing this genre for the 1st time! characters, image or divider used aren't mine. please don't plagiarize or translate or repost this. enjoy reading! ❤️
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Do you know what’s the best thing about work? 
Every evening it ends early. 
Do you know what’s the best thing about home? 
Every evening you’re there.   
Walking into the barely-lit flat, a soft smile lights up the expanse of Satoru’s face as the quiet sounds of snoring float over from the bedroom. Dumping the bag on the sofa and shrugging off the coat, the man moves silently further into the apartment – weary mind conjuring images of you in an oversized black tee [of his], curled into yourself in the king-sized bed, the cutest little pout on your lips as you babble in your sleep – then pauses, a hand on the doorknob.  
Two pairs of blue eyes sparkle at him from the almost-darkness of the room.  
Satoru closes the door behind and slumps against it.  
Two matching grins aim at his heart from the human blanket over your form. 
Sharp. Shrewd. Cruel. 
You wrap an arm round each of those two monkeys – the latter back here from their grandparents', two days before schedule.  
Ten years ago, were anyone to tell Satoru there would be a day in the future when he would have to fight for you, only to taste defeat, again and again and again, the man would have emptied his glass of champagne on their clothes, then kicked them out of the reception party. 
Yet, now... as he trudges closer to the door and extends a hand to brush a few wily wisps of hair away from your forehead – only to have it slapped away harshly by a little palm – he can’t help but wonder what sin he committed in his previous birth, to have received an angel like you as his wife, but two demons like them for his children.  
Sachiko, the older of the twins, glares up at her father. “Papa, no!! Mama’s sleeping,” She whisper-yells, eyes darting from him to you than back to him, lips tugged down in a scowl, the likes of which he has only seen in a mirror. On your other side, a mop of white hair nods, albeit not without a tiny yawn – Sachiro’s definitely inherited your sleepiness in a rainy weather.  
Satoru lifts an eyebrow in return. “I can see that, you two. Now go, play with your toys or something. I wanna cuddle with my wife.” 
“But we too wanna cuddle with Mama,” Sachiko retorts as she slips out from under your arm and sits up on the bed. The tiny ponytail on her white head stays in a complete disarray; your husband watches your daughter tug at it a couple of times, frowning, before she gives up, returning her glower to him as she continues, “So, you can’t cuddle with her. Mama is ours now.” 
Your son again gives a small “yes” at her words, followed by a yawn – a reaction which Sachiko doesn’t deem to be enough, apparently, given how she throws a glare his way next. “Hey, whose team are you on, dumbo? Mine or Papa’s?” 
The answer arrives in an instant, in the most matter-of-factly voice possible from a five-year-old. “Yours, obviously. I don’t want Papa to steal Mama away. She’s ours.” 
The smug grin directed his way next makes Satoru want to flick two foreheads pretty hard – but he doesn’t. Any rash or impulsive action can only do him more harm now, driving him further away from his goal.  
So, cogs whirring in his brain, he crouches down to his kids’ eye level and smiles.  
“What do you think of a compromise, kids? Why don’t you make a deal with me?”  
Two pairs of blue clash with the original pair of blue for a while, suspicion in one, suspicious curiosity in the other, while challenge swirls in the last; before a huff breaks the staring contest and your daughter folds her arms across her chest. Exchanging a glance and a nod with her, your son too sits up and announces, “Okay, we’re interested. What’s the deal?” 
Your husband lets out an internal whoop of victory. 
“Belgian chocolates in exchange for a cuddling session with my wife.” 
“Bleh!” Sachiko makes a disgusted face – something which takes him back to his younger days when Suguru and Shoko used to imitate his expressions – and whines, “They are so bitter, yuck! Suggest something better.” 
“A doll house for you and a car for Sachiro, if that’s the case.” 
The latter is the one to turn down this time. Tone brimmed with disappointment – something he can only ever learn from you – he says, “But you just bought us one last month, Papa! Mama always asks you to save money... why don’t you ever listen to her?” 
A knife of guilt lodges itself into his heart and twists. Satoru sighs. “I do... I try to, always, but you two make it so difficult for me to! Why are you like this? Is it so unfair to want to spend some time with her? She is as much my wife as much she’s your mom.” 
“We know,” The addressed two answer in unison with sage little nods of their head. The girl continues with a grave expression matching her brother’s, “But we can also ask you the same, Papa. She is as much our mom as she’s your wife. Is it so unfair to want to spend some time with her?”  
“Besides, you spent five extra years with her, before we were born. We just want to make up for the time lost,” Sachiro chimes in with a pout. “Tell us, Papa,” The two again speak in a heart-wrenching chorus, “Is it so unfair to want to spend some time with her?” 
“The kids are right, y’know?” A mumble pops the gravity of the situation at hand, and Satoru looks down to find you awake, cracking an amused smile at them. He huffs, rising from the floor and plopping on the bed next to you, arms folded against chest.
“Can’t believe I am so unloved and unwanted in this world. My kids don’t love me. They don’t listen to me. My wife too doesn’t love me. She never supports me. Welp, got to be the unluckiest to be in my shoes right now, I guess.” 
Your husband pauses, giving a small break for the words to sink into everyone, before you let out a long exhale and send him a minor twitch of your lips. Sachiko moves to pat his head, the same moment Sachiro reaches over to clasp his small arms around his neck. You too rise and embrace him from behind, placing a small kiss in between his shoulder blades.  
“Y’know, it’s not like that,” You say, placing your ear on his back, “Just ’cause the kids love me more doesn’t mean they don’t love you. And it’s not even your fault – my personality is so awesome, everyone can’t help but adore me the moment they see me – isn't that right, babies?” 
“Right, Mama,” A pair of wonderstruck voices ring out in reply to your jocular question – you continue in the same note, with another kiss, this time on the nape of his neck.
“And because your awesome Mama’s asking you now, will you two be good babies and let Papa too sleep here with us? Look at him: he’s so tired and sad. You don’t want your dearest Papa to be sad and tired, right? You will let him cuddle with us, won't you?” 
Satoru watches the twins look at each other for a second, then the younger acquiesce, “Papa can cuddle with us. That’s okay, maybe.” The two then proceed to shoot a particularly sharp look at him; one he responds to with a cheeky smirk, which disappears into a soft smile when he feels you manoeuvre his face towards yourself, a light grasp on his chin.  
“See, the kids agreed. Now, are you feeling loved and wanted?” 
“Infinitely more,” He replies with a peck on your lips – however, before he can deepen the kiss a tad more, you bring him into a sleeping posture beside you, the kids immediately piling on top of the two of you. You offer him something between a cute pout and a sorry smile, which earns a wink from your husband. 
Turning to one side, Satoru drags you, Sachiko lying on top of you and Sachiro lying in between him and you, into himself, letting him be lulled to sleep by the melody of your laughs and your kids’ half-hearted harrumphs.
  
Do you know what’s the best thing about life? 
Every tiniest bit of it he gets to spend beside you, the light of his life, and the two imps, your and his love brought into this world – even if he knows he’s going to get kicked out of bed the very microsecond you fall asleep again. 
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sunshineandspencer · 3 months
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Jolene
A/N: I’ve managed to get sick and the thing that roused me from my deathbed was hearing Jolene and going ‘yes, this applies to a Hotch fic, my people need me’ if it doesn’t make sense, blame the headache.
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Girlfriend!Reader.
Summary: She desperately tries not to think that way about his ex-wife, but seeing them interact hurts way more than she thought it would.
Word Count: 1k
Warnings: established relationship, cutesy nicknames, Haley is alive, barely-negative self-thoughts, angst but a happy ending
be added to the taglist!!
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“I can easily understand how you could easily take my man, but he’s the only one for me, Jolene.”
Some part of her knew this wasn’t going to be easy, but she’d powered through it. Aaron had kissed her softly in the kitchen and told her that it would all be alright, slowly moving her to the stairs so that she could get ready.
Smacking her ass and laughing as she yelped, disappearing into their bedroom to get dressed.
They’d been together nearly three years now, only about a month until their third anniversary, and he promised something big - but that’s not important right now.
Jack has a big soccer game this afternoon, his team - little league but still important, as both men swear to her - had made it to whatever the ‘finals’ were. Aaron coaches his team, and as much as she tries to keep up, sports have never been her thing.
Despite this, she attends every single game and cheers no matter what’s happening. Plus, she gets the added bonus of seeing her boyfriend in a loose shirt and shorts, a rare and delicious sight. All the other moms have learnt that Aaron is taken, considering he comes over to kiss her whenever he can.
Honestly, Aaron is perfect. 
Even with his job, she doesn’t mind at all. She’s a photographer, and so she does all her editing work from home, and even when she does need to travel, she does it around his work and Jack’s school times. Occasionally bringing them with her, or just Jack when Aaron is away.
She absolutely loves their little family, and every single moment they spent together, and knew early on that days like this couldn’t be avoided forever.
Of course, she knows that Aaron loves her, he tells her more than enough and he still thinks he’s lacking in that department. But he loves her so desperately that he easily makes her feel seventeen all over again.
So Aaron is not the problem, but she is.
Haley, his ex-wife. The woman divorced Aaron, and moved on a lot quicker than he had, but that’s not the problem, people move at different speeds and she fell out of the marriage a lot sooner than Aaron did. The issue that she has is seeing them together with Jack.
They’re so.. picture perfect. Clearly a family. To the point where it hurts.
Haley is utterly gorgeous, and ageing has only done her wonders. Of course, she knows that she’s also aged pretty well, but not as well as her. 
The woman exists as if the phrase ‘fine wine’ was made just to describe her, and the quiet sting of jealousy hits deep whenever she and Aaron interact. It isn’t very often, thank God, but it still sucks.
The way she still talks to him so casually, as if they were friends who didn’t have an eight year marriage between them, it sets her on edge. It feels like she believes if she wanted she could easily stroll back into Aaron’s life. And why wouldn’t she?
She’s stunning, she’s Jack’s mother, there’s nothing stopping her from taking Aaron all over again.
Except the fact Aaron has reassured her that Haley is nothing to him anymore except the woman who gave him the greatest gift in his life bar his “wonderful girlfriend”, and she believes him. God- it feels so wrong to feel jealous and small when he’s told her that Haley is nothing. It feels like she’s doubting him, and it’s not that she’s trying to, she can’t help it.
How could she, when his ex-wife looks like that?
“Where’ve you gone sweetheart?”
Blinking softly, she looked up from where Jack was excitedly talking to his mom about all the goals he scored - uncaring that half were own-goals.
Aaron had come over to sit next to her, and hesitated from placing his usual peck to her lips when he found her so lost in her own thoughts. Moving to sit next to her and immediately place a hand on her thigh, squeezing softly and pressing his thumb into her flesh by the hem of her dress.
“Nowhere, no I’m- I’m still here.” He gives her a look and she sighs, leaning in to kiss him and grumble unhappily against his lips. “Everyday you make it harder and harder to like profilers.”
Humming, he kissed her a little firmer than usual and she pulled back, looking at him confused. Not that she was complaining, but he usually had a reason.
“She may be his mother, but Jack loves you just as much.”
Her heart seized, hating that he was able to figure her out so easily, but not surprised anymore. Reaching to squeeze his hand where it still rested on her thigh and turning to look at him fully.
“Aaron, I--”
“I mean it dove, we love you. She’s had her time in my life, and that’s over, you are the only one I want for any foreseeable future.”
A bright smile drew up on her face, the one he so loves drawing out because it means that she’s getting over whatever bothered her. 
He’s not stupid, he knows how much that bothered her at the start, and it had calmed down slightly over the years, and she believes him completely. Convincing her brain to believe him, however, had been the most surprising thing to try and overcome. For her, however, he’d reassure her everyday for as long as it takes.
With her hands smoothing up his arms to thread into the hair at the nape of his neck, that little bashful smile overcame her face as she got closer. Pressing a quick kiss to his lips.
“Careful there Hotchner, or someone might think you’re proposing to me.”
He huffed out a small laugh and wrapped his arm around her waist and tugged her even closer, kissing her deeply. Not caring that there were other moms watching and awing, or Jack making fake throwing-up noises, even though he really doesn’t mind.
Only pulling back to brush his nose against hers, smiling down at her and watching the way she couldn’t decide which eye of his to focus on.
“Just wait sweet girl, I’m not having you ruin my surprise.”
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wolverigrl · 18 days
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The first date
Hugh Jackman x reader (actress)
!Disclaimer! I made some small changes in the last parts! The movie they made is a fictional one about Lady Deadpool. Everything takes place in 2015. Y/n is in her late 20s. Blake and Ryan got married long before and I changed the ages of their and Hugh's kids so it would fit more!
Warnings: none, only some swearing here and there and a bit fluff, not proofread!!
Enjoy!
Previous part
---------------------------------------------------
The early morning breeze was cool as I jogged through Central Park, the soft hum of the city waking up in the background. The familiar rhythm of my footsteps against the pavement was oddly comforting, almost like a meditation. I pulled my black baseball cap lower, shielding my eyes from the rising sun, and zipped up my running jacket a bit more. My leggings clung comfortably to my legs, and I felt grounded, my mind clear, my body moving with ease.
Jogging here had become part of my routine, a way to escape for a moment. The quiet mornings felt like a reset. As I slowed my pace and started walking toward the park exit, my breathing still steady, I noticed two people approaching from the side, their faces lighting up in recognition.
"Excuse me... are you y/n?" the guy asked, his voice a little shaky with excitement.
I smiled softly, adjusting my cap. "Yeah, that’s me."
The girl next to him looked at me with wide eyes, already fumbling for her phone. "Oh my God, we are big fans! Can we take a picture with you?"
I chuckled, nodding. "Of course, let’s do it."
We huddled together, her phone snapping a few pictures. The guy, who looked like he was around his early twenties, lingered for a moment longer, hesitating before speaking.
“You probably hear this all the time." he began, "but you really inspired me. I’ve always wanted to act, but I didn’t have the courage to pursue it. Seeing you do what you love gave me the push I needed so I just joined a local theater group."
For a moment, his words hung in the air, and I felt a rush of warmth. It wasn't every day someone said something so meaningful.
"That’s amazing! I’m so glad I could inspire you. Keep at it, okay? It’s tough, but if it’s your passion, it’s always worth it."
He nodded, his face full of excitement and we hugged each other as a goodbye. As they walked away, I called out, “You made my day! Love you guys!” Their faces lit up even more, and I couldn't help but feel grateful for moments like this.
This encounter left me with a good feeling, and as I walked back home, I couldn’t help but feel lighter. Connecting with people like that reminded me why I started this journey in the first place.
Back in my apartment, I kicked off my shoes and collapsed onto the couch. My mind wandered to everything that had happened over the past few days—work, interviews, photoshoots—but one thing stuck out more than the rest: Hugh. I had been thinking about him more than usual, and after yesterday’s intense moment, it was hard not to.
Still, before I let my thoughts drift too far, I got got into the bathroom for a quick refreshing shower. After that I changed into a comfy office look, grabbed my phone and dialed my parents. I hadn’t caught up with them in a while, and I missed hearing their voices.
“Y/n! Pumpkin! How’s our superstar?” my mom’s voice greeted me on the other end.
I smiled, sinking into the cushions. "Super busy, as usual. But everything’s going well. I'll have a meeting with the team today. lots of interviews coming up."
We chatted for a while about my schedule, how they were doing, and the usual family updates. I purposely avoided mentioning anything about Hugh. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to tell them, but I wasn’t ready for that conversation yet. Not when things between us were still so undefined.
After saying goodbye, I got up to get ready for my meeting at the office. As I was applying a bit of makeup, my phone buzzed on the counter. Hugh’s name appeared on the screen.
HUGH: Good morning, beautiful❤️ How's your day starting?
I couldn’t help but smile as I typed back, already feeling my heart speed up a little.
Y/N: Good morning handsome🥰 Doing pretty good so far. Just came back from my morning run. How about yours?
Almost immediately, his reply came through.
HUGH: I still don’t know how you can enjoy running😅 Mine's good too. Picked coffee with a friend and now we're at his house already working.
Y/N: Maybe you're just getting old?👀
HUGH: Why so mean? Did you trip on your run?
I snapped a quick selfie in the mirror with my tongue out and send it to him.
Y/N: I'm not mean. It was a legitimate question. I'm heading to the office now! Wish me luck!😘
HUGH: Looking great as always! And good luck, though you don’t need it. You always kill it sweetheart😘
A moment later, another message appeared, this time with a photo of Hugh, standing in what looked like an unfinished house. He was wearing a tight-fitting shirt, his arms slightly dusted with sawdust, his hair messy in a way that only made him look better. I paused, biting my lip. He looked really good. And my mind, much to my frustration, flashed back to that kiss.
Y/N: Somebody pls call the fire department🔥
HUGH: Lady, stop exaggerating😂
I chuckled, shaking my head. There was something so annoyingly attractive about how casual he was, even when he looked like that. After a few more texts, I realized I had to leave or I’d be late.
The management office was buzzing with energy when I arrived, as usual. I greeted everyone warmly, settling into the meeting room where we began discussing upcoming interviews and events. Everything was going smoothly, just the usual PR talk—until one of the managers, Sam, leaned forward with a more serious expression.
“So, we’ve been thinking,” he began. “The buzz around you and Hugh has been great for both of your images. The movie’s coming out soon, and the fan speculation has been... let’s just say, active”
I nodded slowly, already sensing where this was going.
“We think it would be smart to keep that momentum going." Sam continued. “Even after the release of the movie, we want you two to keep up the appearance of having something going on. Publicly, deny it in interviews, of course. But tease the people a bit more. Keep them guessing.”
I blinked, processing what he was saying. "So, you want us to pretend we’re together, but not really confirm anything?"
Sam nodded. "Exactly. It’ll keep the public engaged, and your fanbases will stay hooked. It’s good for both of you."
The idea sat heavy in my chest. I could see why they wanted it—it made sense from a PR standpoint—but the thought of turning something personal into a game made me uneasy. What if it messed things up between Hugh and me? What if it turned whatever we were trying to figure out into a spectacle?
“I’ll talk to Hugh about it." I said carefully. “And I think it’s best if you reach out to his team as well, just to make sure we’re all on the same page.”
Sam smiled, satisfied. "Good call. Let us know what you both decide."
They nodded, and we moved on to other topics. I was particularly excited when they mentioned a potential collaboration with a fashion brand. Modeling for a brand had always been a dream, and eagerly agreed.
After sorting out some paperwork, I left the office, my mind still swirling with everything we discussed. As I stepped outside, my phone rang. It was Chris.
"Hey!" he greeted me. "I'm in New York earlier than planned. Are you free?"
Of course, I agreed, and we arranged to meet up at his hotel. Soon, we were stroling through the city together, talking about everything from movies to work. Even though my phone buzzed several times, I ignored it, wanting to be fully present with Chris.
After a while, Chris turned to me with a grin. "So, about those rumors with you and Hugh... anything you want to share?" I felt my stomach twist. Lying to I Chris didn't sit right with me, but Hugh and I had agreed that only Ryan and Blake knew about us. So, I gave him the standard answer.
"We’re just friends,” I said, not quite meeting his eyes. “You know how the rumors go. Our Managers want us to play along because it looks good. That’s all.”
Chris raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced but letting it slide. “If you say so.”
Then, with a sudden shift in tone, he said, “Actually... I’ve been meaning to tell you. I met someone.”
I blinked, surprised. "What? When?"
“Not too long ago. Her name’s Alba. She’s incredible—smart, sweet, talented and down-to-earth. We’ve been spending a lot of time together lately.”
As Chris spoke, his eyes lit up, and I could tell he was smitten. I felt a surge of happiness for him, pulling him into a tight hug. “Chris, that’s amazing! I’m so happy for you.”
He smiled, clearly touched by my excitement, and we spent the rest of the afternoon wandering around the city, talking about Alba, his family and how things were going. Eventually, I had the idea to skip the pub and order takeout instead. Chris agreed, but only on one condition.
"We have to watch a Disney movie!" He said with eyes sparkling with mischief.
"Deal!" I laughed.
After heading back to my place, we posted a photo of us together on Instagram, and as expected, the comments looded in.
>>ginainabottle: Where's Hugh?😭<<
>>markix69: Y/n always with the dilfs. QUEEN💯<<
>>teddy1xoxo: How is it living my dream?❤️😭<<
I finally checked my messages and saw a few from Hugh.
HUGH: Have fun tonight😘
HUGH: Meeting up already?
HUGH: Everything okay?
Guilt twisted in my stomach and I quickly called him.
"Hey.." I said softly when he picked up. "I'm so sorry I didn't respond earlier. I was just... you know how it is... We've been talking non-stop."
"Y/n it's fine." Hugh replied, but there was something off in his tone. "What've you two been up to?"
I told him everything--how we spend the day walking around, catching up and now were getting ready for a movie night.
"Chris is still here, actually." I added. "We're about to watch The Little Mermaid."
There was a pause before Hugh spoke again, and I could swear there was a hint of something... maybe jealousy? But I brushed it off.
"I miss you." he said, his voice softer now.
"I miss you too." I replied, smiling at he thought of seeing him soon.
"Oh, by the way." I added remembering the management's idea. "My team suggested we tease the fans a bit more online. Even after the movie releases."
Hugh chuckled. "Yeah, we can play around with it. Deny everything but drop a few hints. But what do you think?"
I bit my lip, thinking back to the conversation with my team. "I'm not sure, honestly. I don't want the media or public pressure to affect what we're building between us, you know? But if you're okay with it, maybe we should continue."
Hugh chuckled, the tension easing from his voice. "Like a soft launch, huh? So, we hint at things but never really confirm it?"
"Exactly." I said, smiling at the idea now that it was being said out loud. "We can have fun with it. But still deny things if people ask outright."
"Deal," he said, his tone light again. "Let's tease them a little, but keep the mystery alive."
We both laughed at the absurdity of it, and the playful tone of the conversation helped ease my earlier guilt. Then, Hugh's voice turned a bit more serious, though stillwarm. "By the way... how about gym and breakfast tomorrow? Just the two of us?"
I hesitated, not out of uncertainty but because of how much I wanted it. "Like... our first real date?" I asked, grinning into the phone.
"Yep. Our first official date." he confirmed, the excitement in his voice clear.
"Then, it's a yes!" I said, feeling butterflies stir in my stomach at the hought. "Where should we meet?
We hashed out the details and after a few more minutes of casual banter, we finally said our goodbyes, both of us feeling lighter.
As soon as I hung up, I turned to find Chris giving me a curious look from the couch. "So. first date, huh?" he teased, raising an eyebrow.
I sighed, knowing I couldn't hide it anymore. "Yeah, fine. You got me," I admitted, plopping down beside him. "Hugh and I... there's something going on. But we're keeping it quiet for now. Chris grinned, clearly happy for me. "I had a feeling. And honestly? I'm happy for you. Hugh's a good guy He was always super nice when I had the chance talking to him."
"Thanks, Chris. It's just complicated, you know? With the media and all."
"Yeah, I get it." He said with a knowing nod. "But if anyone can handle it, it's you." He then smirked, his teasing side coming back. "So are you guys gonna do a soft launch like the rest of us normal people, or something more dramatic?"
I squealed and shoving his arm. "What the heck?! He mentioned a soft launch too! What are you? Telepathic?!" And we both bursted into laughter.
We calmed down and shifted our focus back to The Little Mermaid. Chris singing along to Part of Your World with exaggerated enthusiasm. It wasn't long before he dozed off, his head lolling back against the couch. I smiled fondly at him, his mouth slightly open, snoring softly. The day had been a whirlwind of emotions, but it was nice to end it with someone I trusted so much.
Grabbing my phone,I snapped a quick picture of Chris, chuckling to myself as I did and quickly posted the photo to Instagram with the caption:
>>y/n instagram: Disney and chill with my favorite co-star🧜🏻‍♂️<<
The comments poured in almost instantly, but I ignored the notifications, setting my phone on the coffee table and grabbing a blanket to drape over Chris. After making sure he was comfortable, I turned off the lights, heading to my bedroom. I slipped under the covers, the events of the day replaying in my mind. Hugh, Chris, the PR idea and the upcoming date.
The next morning, I woke up to the sound of Chris moving around the apartment. I got up and changed into comfy clothes as I walked into the living room where he was packing up his things, looking like the human version of a Disney prince as usual. As I stretched and rubbed my eyes, he glanced over at me with a soft smile.
“Morning, sleepyhead." he teased, zipping up his jacket. “I’ve got a meeting downtown, but I didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye.”
I sat up and gave him a playful wave. “Didn’t want me to think you snuck out, huh?”
“Exactly. I’m not that kind of guy,” he joked, slinging his bag over his shoulder. Then his tone softened. “Hey, keep me updated on the Hugh situation, okay? I’m curious how things go. And don’t forget to tell me about that first date.”
I smiled, the warmth of his support making me feel even more confident. “I will. Thanks, Chris.”
He leaned down and gave me a quick hug and a peck on the cheek. “See you soon, y/n. And don’t forget, I’m always just a text away if you need me.”
“Will do. Good luck with your meeting!”
With a final wave, he headed out the door, leaving me alone with my thoughts—and a mess of nerves about my first official date with Hugh later that morning. I had no idea what to expect, but I hoped it wouldn’t turn into a disaster.
After Chris left, I freshened up, threw on my workout clothes, and made my way to the gym where Hugh and I had agreed to meet. This wasn’t just a casual workout—it was our first date, so I kinda did a big deal out of it.
When I arrived, Hugh was already there, looking ridiculously good in his gym gear. He waved me over with that easygoing smile that never failed to make my heart race.
“You ready?” he asked smiling down at me.
“I was born ready!" With this Hugh opened the door and let me go in first.
We started with some light cardio to warm up, and things were going smoothly—until we hit the weight section again. I’d watched Hugh easily lift a set of dumbbells like they were made of air, and, in a moment of misplaced confidence, I thought 'Why not?'. I grabbed a barbell and decided to push myself a bit further than usual. The first few reps went okay, but as I tried to push the barbell up again, my arms started to shake. I tried to power through it, but I quickly realized I had overestimated my strength. Just as the weight became too much, Hugh was beside me in an instant. “Need some help there?” he asked, amusement dancing in his eyes. I tried to save face. “I’ve got it, just—just give me a second…” Before I could protest further, he gently but firmly took hold of the barbell, lifting it with ease and placing it back on the rack.
"Yeah, you totally had that under control." he teased, his smile widening. “Okay, maybe I overdid it a little." I admitted, feeling the heat rising in my cheeks.
"No shame in asking for help." he said, giving me a playful nudge. “Just don’t hurt yourself trying to keep up with me.”
I playfully groaned and lightly slapped his chest. He just laughed, pulling me tighter against him, his arms wrapping around my waist. I looked up at him, grinning, my gaze lingering on his lips for a beat too long.
“Do you need a kiss to forget that little mishap?” he teased, moving his face closer, eyes sparkling with mischief.
I smirked, voice dropping to a whisper, “Oh, I’ll need more than one to forget that.”
Before he could respond, I closed the gap between us, pulling him in with my arms wrapped around his neck. My fingers tangled in his messy, sweat-damp hair as our kiss deepened, the heat between us rising instantly. He brushed his tongue over my bottom lip, and I parted my lips, welcoming him further. His hands gripped me firmly at the waist, keeping me pressed tightly against him, while my hands couldn’t stay still, roaming over his broad shoulders and chest. Every nerve in my body felt like it was on fire, completely overtaken by the moment, the world around us fading away.
I didn’t even realize when my hands slipped under his shirt, fingertips grazing his warm skin. But just as quickly as the moment ignited, Hugh pulled back, breathless, his forehead resting against mine.
“We’re only on our first date,” he murmured, his voice thick with amusement, a crooked smile playing on his lips. “I haven’t even given you flowers yet.”
I chuckled softly, my head still spinning, and nodded. “You’re right. We said we wouldn’t rush things… and, well, making out in a public gym might be pushing it. I don’t think our management would be too thrilled if the media caught wind of this.”
Hugh laughed, loosening his hold on me, though his hands lingered for a moment longer. “Yeah, I can already hear the headlines.”
Reluctantly, we stepped back from each other, both grinning, but still feeling that magnetic pull between us.
After that little incident, we wrapped up the workout, and I offered to cook us breakfast back at my place. It was the least I could do after Hugh saved me from total humiliation. But as soon as I started cooking, I realized maybe that wasn't the best idea.
The eggs burned almost immediately, the toast was so hard you could break a tooth on it, and I somehow managed to get pancake batter all over the counter.
Hugh stood nearby, watching the chaos unfold with a mix of amusement and concern.
"I swear, I'm usually better at this." I said, desperately trying to salvage something from the mess. Hugh laughed, leaning against the counter. "Better at lifting weights or cooking?"
"Oh shut up!" I laughed and tossed a burnt piece of toast at him, which he dodged easily.
"You sure you don't want me to handle this?" he asked, his voice filled with amusement.
"Hugh, I already said no. I'm perfectly capable." I said defensively, though the evidence clearly suggested otherwise.
"You keep telling yourself that." he teased.
I flipped another pancake, only to see it land halfway off the pan.
I let out a dramatic sigh, slumping my shoulders in mock defeat. Hugh chuckled and wrapped his arms around me from behind, pressing a quick kiss to my neck. The warmth of his lips and the slight scratch of his beard sent a shiver down my spine, goosebumps rising instantly. I turned my head towards him, and with a soft smile, he said, "Looks like the universe is giving you a day off from cooking. Let’s clean up and eat at the café instead."
Eventually, we gave up on my culinary attempt and decided to head downtown to the next café. We settled into a cozy corner table, ordering some coffee and toast. As the food arrived, I couldn't help but laugh.
"At least this can't go wrong, right?" joked, gesturing to the perfectly normal-looking plate in front of us. Hugh raised an eyebrow. "I wouldn't be so sure. With us, anything's possible."
I pretended to look horrified. "Don't jinx it!"
He chuckled, taking a sip of his coffee. "So, What do you think of our first date so far?"
I paused, meeting his eyes.
Hugh leaned back smiling. "Well I've gotta say, it's been pretty great so far."
I chuckled, feeling the warmth spread through me. "I agree. Disaster-prone, but definitely memorable."
We spent the rest of breakfast chatting, laughing about the little mishaps from the past couple of hours, and just enjoying each other's company. It, again, felt easy and natural, even with the nerves of a first date hanging in the air.
As we finished up, Hugh reached under the table for my hand and squeezed it gently, giving me a soft look that made my heart skip a beat. "You know, I'm really glad we do this."
"Me too, Hugh." Iadmitted, feeling the same.
Later that afternoon, Hugh and I met up with Ryan for an interview promoting the movie, which finally releases tomorrow. It was just the three of us sitting in a comfortable setup, no live audience, just cameras, and a quiet room. I always looked forward to interviews with Ryan—he had a way of making everything fun and unpredictable.
The interviewer greeted us friendly with a firm handshake and began with the usual questions about the film after introducing us to the already recording camera.
"So, y/n, how did it feel stepping into the shoes of Lady Deadpool?”
I smiled, leaning forward slightly. “Honestly, it was a dream. She’s such a chaotic, yet deeply emotional character. Playing her meant getting to do some wild action scenes while also diving into her personal struggles. Plus, I got to wear a lot of leather.”
Ryan jumped in, grinning. “And kick some serious butt. Let’s not forget that.”
The interviewer nodded and turned to Hugh. “And how about you, Hugh? Wolverine is such an iconic character. How was it returning to the role?”
Hugh smiled, looking relaxed. “It’s always an honor to play Wolverine. This time around, the dynamic with Deadpool—and Lady Deadpool—added a whole new level of fun. The banter, the action sequences, it all just felt... electric.”
Ryan leaned in dramatically. “But let’s be honest. It was terrible. We all hated each other on set!"
Hugh, the interviewer and I bursted into laughter as Ryan continued, completely straight-faced. "No, seriously, it was a nightmare. Every day was a battle I'm surprised we even finished the movie."
"I mean, you were pretty hard to work with.: I teased, leaning into the joke.
Ryan shrugged dramatically. "I do my best to bring chaos wherever I go."
The interviewer then introduced a fun segment: Fan questions pulled from Twitter. “Alright, we’ve got some tweets here from fans. Let’s see what they want to know.”
He read the first tweet aloud. “@MarvelFanGirl asks: ‘What was the funniest moment on set?’ "
Ryan immediately jumped in. “Oh, I’ve got this. There was actually a pretty intense kiss scene between y/n and Hugh in the original cut of the film, but - spoiler alert - it got cut because the film was running too long. Marvel classics." Hugh chuckled, already shaking his head in amusement.
"And I swear by the mother of my children, Blake Ellender Lively!" he dramatically paused. "They just kept going after the director's cut! The crew didn't know if they were still in the scene or... well, if it was method acting, if you know what I mean."
At this point the interviewer started laughing uncontrollably and held his hand in front of his mouth.
I laughed, hiding my face in my hands. “Why do you always bring that up?”
“Because it’s comedy gold!” Ryan laughed, clearly enjoying himself.
"Don't listen to him, Hugh said, grinning. "He's just upset he didn't get a kiss scene."
"Eeeexactly!" Ryan exclaimed, pointing at Hugh. "Where's Deadpool's kiss scene, huh? It's an outrage!"
Even the crew behind the cameras started laughing and the interviewer moved on with the questions, still giggling.
"Ryan, if you could switch roles with anyone in the cast, who would it be?" asked the interviewer.
Without missing a beat, Ryan replied.
"Y/n, hands down. She got the sexiest costume, the coolest weapons, and she gets to kick more butt than anyone else. Plus, let's not forget--she gets to kiss Hugh."
I groaned, shaking my head while Hugh laughed. "You're never going to let that go, are you?"
"Never!" Ryan said with a grin.
The next tweet came in, and the interviewer read it out. “@WolverineLover asks: ‘If Wolverine and Lady Deadpool had their own spin-off movie, what would it be about?’”
Hugh pretended to think seriously. “I imagine it would be about trying to stop Lady Deadpool from blowing up everything in sight.”
I shot him a mock-offended look. “Hey, Lady Deadpool isn’t that destructive.”
Ryan snorted. “Oh please, she’d turn the whole thing into a circus. Wolverine would just be there for damage control.”
We all laughed as we moved on to the next question. “@DeadpoolRocks asks: ‘Ryan, how much of Deadpool is actually you?’ "
Ryan grinned, leaning back in his chair. “Oh, about 90%, I’d say. The other 10% is just me trying to look cooler than I actually am.”
As the interview wrapped up, we exchanged a few more lighthearted jabs, and I couldn’t help but feel how much fun we had together. Ryan and Hugh had a way of making every moment a little less serious and a lot more entertaining.
“Alright." Ryan said, standing up as the cameras shut off. “Who’s ready for round two tomorrow?”
I moaned, already dreading whatever he had in store. “I’m not sure my dignity can handle it.”
Hugh laughed, wrapping an arm around my shoulders as we walked out. “Don’t worry, I’ll be there to save you. Again.”
“Let’s just hope there are no weights involved this time,” I quipped.
After the interview, we walked off stage, and Ryan clapped Hugh on the back.
"Man, I'm still disappointed they cut the kiss scene. We were all waiting for the slow-motion sparks."
Hugh just laughed, shaking his head. "Yeah, I'm sure that's why the audience would come to watch the movie. For that."
Ryan wagged his finger. "Don't underestimate the power of romance, Jackman. Fans live for that!"
I shot both of them a look, trying to keep a straight face. "As long as no one mentions the breakfast disaster, I'll consider this interview a win."
Ryan blinked, clearly intrigued. "What breakfast disaster?"
Hugh grinned mischievously, but before he could spill, I put my hand over his mouth in protest. "Nope! Not happening. What happens in the kitchen stays in the kitchen."
Ryan raised his eyebrows, clearly enjoying my embarrassment. "Im going to get that story out of one of you. Just wait!"
"Ha! You wish!" I called over my shoulder, heading out of the studio with them.
Eventually, we split off, with Ryan going in one direction, and Hugh and I in another, after we said our goodbyes.
Hugh opened the passenger door for me so that I could get in. After my little "Thank you", he closed the door with a smile and sat down on the other side. "My place or yours?"
I kissed his cheek. "Let's go to your place."
With that, Hugh drove off, placing his hand on my thigh as he drove.
Smiling, I looked out of the window and stroked the back of his hand with my thumb. What a day.
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Sorry if it's not proofread! Struggled with a migraine today but still wanted to finish this part. But I tried my best! And I hope I didn't confuse anybody with the small changes.
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