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#or I was going to sleep 3 hours ago before I decide to read a bit before bed and then finished my book
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Last, Last Time
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader (she/her pronouns)
WC: ~7.3k
TW: Angst, guns, violence, mentions of domestic violence, blood, swearing, depression, kidnapping, manipulation, self-deprecating thoughts, heartbreak, arguing, the grieving process, drinking, screaming, crying, sobbing, throwing up, being under pressure, and anything else that comes with a criminal minds episode.
a/n: based on S15 E6 - first date. I love u aubrey plaza <3. Also inspired by the song Last, Last Time by Boys Go To Jupitar. writing this was a little bit of a catharsis since it's one of the first things I've been able to write. I'm sorry I've been so m.i.a., i just moved to a new country and that has been a crazy experience. But to cope with that, enjoy some gut-wrenching angst!
Spencer Masterlist
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“Spencer I won’t—I can’t keep doing this. I’m sick of arguing in circles.” 
“Y/n…”
“I-I feel like you take me for fucking granted Spencer. All I do is work and then come home and wait for you to actually be able to, I don’t know, sleep in the same bed as me for more than four hours.”
The look in his eyes almost took you out but your heart had already been broken long, long before this argument. If anything, you were starting to feel this sense of freedom as you broke his heart. 
“Please. Y/n. Just–I don’t—Just give me a few days to convince Hotch to let me have some time off and we can work on this please.” 
“Wait for the potential of us?” 
Spencer’s jaw loosened. You couldn’t read beyond the initial layer of pain and confusion, which made your chest ache since not too long ago you could have been able to find everything you needed in his expression.
“God Spencer this can’t be fucking news to you. We’ve been drifting apart for months now.” 
“I know, I know. You have been so patient with me and I’ve just been….there was that whole thing with Cat and then….I-I was trying so hard y/n…”
“No, first there was that whole thing with Maeve.”
“That’s not fair—”
“Oh that’s not fair? Really? You’re going to tell me the entire Maeve thing isn’t fair to you?”
“I’m sorry.”
You sighed and closed your eyes. “I’m not saying you weren’t trying but come one Spencer. There’s no need to deny this shit anymore. I hate it when you lie to me about these kinds of things.” 
Spencer’s hand came up to his face and it dragged down, aging him significantly with the fatigue written all over his face. 
“So you’re just going to pack up everything, break my heart, and leave? Were you even going to say goodbye, or was I going to come home to an empty home. A note or....” 
“I-I don’t know Spencer. I just don’t…” 
The tears were starting to creep in, and you had to place the box down before you lost it.
“This isn’t easy for me either…” Your chest heaved. 
The both of you stood in silence, tension simmering surrounding the both of you like heat on a summer’s eve. Neither of you could really look at one another, but it felt wrong to look at anything else. Something was missing but you couldn’t say it outloud. You knew you would always love Spencer Reid but this time it was not enough. 
“I’m tired of arguing Spencer.” 
Your eyes met his. You felt Spencer’s arms around you before you could even feel the tears hit your cheeks. Your arms immediately went to his neck, so familiar. No longer home. 
Spencer’s voice muttered into your ear. “Don’t cry Jolie. It’ll be okay..” 
About three years ago, Spencer had decided that he didn’t like that you had nicknames for him, and he had none for you. He spent weeks workshopping different ones : Sugar, Honey, Pumpkin, Sweetheart, Darlin, Pookie, Lover, Sunny (like sunshine), Sunshine—it was a wild few weeks trying to figure out who he was talking to. Then one day, offhandedly, he was trying to tell you about this french film he had been watching, and trying to get Emily to watch with him. 
He called you ‘tres jolie’, and blushing you had asked him what it meant. He told you it meant pretty. 
And it stuck. 
Now? It stung. 
All you could do was squeeze tightly onto him, not ready to let go.
“You’re so pretty when you’re lying through your teeth.” You whispered after a few moments, pulling away out of his arms. 
“I.” You swallow and step back, out of his reach. “Maybe I’ll...” 
Spencer just looked up at the ceiling, trying to hold in the tears that were streaming down his face. 
You grabbed the last box on the counter and your keys, and walked out, for the last time. 
You awoke in your bed, eyes adjusting to the complete darkness the blackout curtains provided you. 
Another fucking night thinking about your decision those four years ago, and how your life may have gotten better because of it. 
Moving to get up from the bed, you decided to leave the curtains closed for now, feeling as if you could melt from the sun touching you. 
You turned on the bathroom light and started your morning routine. Wash face. Take meds. Brush teeth. Fix hair—
Somewhere in that process, you got lost, and just stared at yourself in the mirror. You weren’t sure for how long. All you could do was replay the last four years. 
Did you make the right choice? You were happy, you had your dream job. 
Maybe it was true what they say, you can only have a career or love, but not both—
The only thing taking you out of this spiral was the ringer on your phone going off. 
This caused some hesitation because your phone’s ringer was always off––the loud noise startling you. There were only a few people who had that emergency bypass, and none of them had called you in four years. 
You peaked out of the bathroom and saw the name light up on your phone. 
Emily Prentiss
______________________________________________________________
The door to the round room opened up and in walked Spencer Reid. “Catch me up.” 
Prentiss clicked the remote, and the TV lit up with a picture of a woman smirking facing the camera while holding a gun up to another one next to her. “Early this morning, Garcia got an email from an anonymous server.”
The second woman was tied up, mouth slightly open, and eyes filled with tears, while a man on the other side just had his eyes closed, tired. . 
Spencer just stared at the photo. 
Rossi nodded at the picture. “She's not obscuring her face, telling us she's got nothing to hide.”
He never pulled focus away from the screen, mouth dry at the thought of what today was going to be. “Any ideas on the unsub?”
“No.” Prentiss sighed. “Only the unsub's demand. That we release Catherine Adams in 24 hours.  I'm having her transferred here for questioning, but we have no illusions. This is just a game to her. We know that. The question is, do we want to play it or not?”
______________________________________________________________
Receiving a call from the FBI was not entirely new to you, since you had been engaged to one of their agents, but receiving one now? Weird. Off brand. Something was deeply wrong from them to have to give you a call. 
You hesitantly pick up the phone. “Hello?”
“Hey Y/n, it’s Emily Prentiss—“
“I know who you are, Emily. It’s been a couple years, not millions.” 
Emily hummed a brief laugh, and you could hear other voices behind her, unable to make out anything. 
“I know this is hard to ask of you, but would you stay on the phone with me and come in?” 
“What?” 
“I need you to stay very calm Y/n, but I need you to stay on the line with me, leave your apartment as soon as you can, and get to the BAU.” 
“Oh my god I totally forgot. It might take me an hour to get there with all this bullshit traffic, could we push the reservation an hour? Would they be willing to do that?” 
Your entire tone changed, having remembered what Spencer had told you all those years ago about if people were listening into your apartment, if they bugged your car—all paranoia that didn’t pay off then, might be paying off now. 
You were sure you could hear Emily sigh, and it sounded a little upset at the fact that you knew what to do–you knew how to handle a dangerous situation, which made her question everything in her life. 
Quickly you pulled on a pair of jeans and threw a sweatshirt over your pajama top and grabbed your keys off of the counter. 
You left your apartment, waved to one of your neighbors, and hopped into your car, still on the line, just trying not to panic. Maybe something went wrong, maybe Spencer wasn’t okay, maybe he had died—you refused to even acknowledge that thought and decided it was something else entirely. 
It was a very tense hour of driving, that was only about forty minutes since you knew how to drive above the speed limit. 
You realized that it was past midday, and you had taken full advantage of the weekend. So at least you had a decent amount of sleep under your belt for what felt like the beginning of an extraneous night. 
As you pulled into the parking garage, Emily Prentiss and someone you had never met before were standing there waiting for you. You placed your car in park, hopped out and walked up to them–only hanging up as soon as you were out of the car. 
Both of them had such grim looks on their faces, but at least they were trying to pretend like the situation wasn’t as bad as it appeared to your face. 
Emily engulfed you in a hug. “Missed you Y/n. It’s been too long.” 
“Well Em, next time I end an engagement with someone I’ll consider your feelings first.” You squeezed him back, dryly laughing at your own joke. At least it caused Emily to snort. 
“Y/n this is SSA Luke Alvez. Luke, this is Y/n Y/l/n.”
“It’s nice to meet you.” He gave a small smile and nodded at you.
“I wish it were under different circumstances.” You nodded back and looked over at Emily.
“Let’s head inside?” 
The three of you moved inside. 
Sure, you hadn’t been here in a while, but you knew your way around the BAU Bullpen if your life depended on it, which was ironic since that was what this feels like. 
As soon as you were safely in their round table room, Luke shut the door, and stood by it, Emily coming and sitting down next to you. 
“What do you know about Cat Adams?” 
That bitch. 
______________________________________________________________
“I would like to go on a date. With you.” 
Spencer stared at her, face stoic as ever. “A date?”
“Yes. I want to look pretty. And I want to have fun.” She looked him up and down. “And I won't even get physical, ok? Unless you want me to.”
Spencer sat down across from her. “Come here. Closer.”
Cat leaned in, a small smile on her face, absolutely intoxicated by being so close to him.
“The only date that I'll be there for is the one where they stick a needle in your vein.”
Cat scoffed. “You're just going to let her father and sister die? I don't think so.”
“I never said it was a father and daughter. You're already slipping.” He stood up from the table. “We'll find them. We always do.”
Cat leaned back and crossed her arms. “Not tonight. Tonight I win.”
His resolution had yet to change, “The score between me and you is two to zero. By tomorrow morning, it'll be a clean sweep. Enjoy eternal nothingness. It's a metaphor for your life.” 
And with that, the door slammed shut behind him.
______________________________________________________________
Both the profilers watched a series of emotions run rampant across your face, before you settled on a somewhat displeased smile. “A lot.” 
They exchanged a look, and you didn’t have the energy to pretend like you didn’t know what it was. 
“Don’t start with me you two. I know profiling. I know what you’re doing. Ask me the questions you want to ask. Don’t try and trick me into giving the answers you want.” 
Alvez bit his tongue and looked away, trying to hide a small smile that appeared on his lips. 
Emily, on the other hand, hid her smile a bit better than him, but part of being previously engaged to a profiler meant you picked up on some of their tricks too. 
She nodded and pulled a file from across the table. “I’m assuming you know the basics since she, uh, is obsessed with Spencer.”
“Glad to see he still has that going for him.” You muttered and looked into the file. 
Emily shot Luke a look when he let out a huff or air, trying his damndest not to laugh. 
“What is the last thing you know about her?” 
You recounted the days leading up to the restaurant, and then the few days after, decidedly stopping short of the engagement breaking off a week later. 
They shared another look, and you didn’t enjoy whatever it was that had moved across their faces. 
“What? What happened?” 
“Y/n..”
“No Emily, I drove from DC to here, I deserve to know what happened. without some weird sugarcoating, alright?” 
Emily then begins to explain to you the past four years of Reid’s life. Cat pretending she was pregnant with his kid in prison, kidnapping his mother, framing him for murder in Mexico, going to prison—
“Spencer went to prison and none of you thought to call me….”
“We didn’t think you’d–” 
“I’m a fucking criminal defense attorney in DC Emily. Of course I’d want to know if he was arrested, especially internationally. I know that law better than all of you. If someone I knew was kidnapped, I’d call you immediately. Faster than the cops.” 
Both of them went silent. 
“So is he out?” 
They nodded slowly, silently. 
“How long was he in there.”
Nothing. 
“I asked. How. Long.”
Luke spoke up. “Three months.” 
“Jesus christ.” You stood up and started to pace around the room, taking the time you needed to calm down. 
Why didn’t Spencer call you—well you knew why Spencer wouldn’t call you. 
“Okay so he’s out.” You said finally. “Why am I here?” 
“Cat’s execution is coming up, and we….we found out that she’s convinced someone to kidnap some….people…close to Reid, and we knew you’d be on that list for him.” 
Your eyebrows went up at people but said nothing of it. Just as you went to say something else, JJ knocked on the door, another blonde woman behind her. 
They entered and JJ gave you a small, yet genuine smile. 
You returned it, but quickly shifted your gaze onto the woman behind. 
Your whole body shifted slightly, into a place of defense, locking your emotions down. You knew all the profilers were watching it happen in real time, which is why Emily walked over and stood next to you, a hand appearing on the small of your back as a comfort.
“Would someone like to tell me what is going on here?” The blonde woman spoke up, arms crossed.
At least Spencer’s taste in partners with attitude hadn’t changed. 
______________________________________________________________
“Victimology is off.”
“How so?” Prentiss looked up at him as he walked into the room. 
“Father and daughter. She’s never done that before.” 
Lewis spoke up. “She usually kills men that remind her of her father. Children–even adult children, are off limits. Do we have an ID yet.” 
Prentiss, Rossi, Garcia, and JJ all looked over at Reid, and he just pulled a hand down his face. “It’s. It’s Issac and Noelle Y/l/n.” 
“Y/l/n…as is Y/n Y/l/n.” Tara looked up surprised at Spencer. 
Reid nodded slowly, just staring at the picture on the projector.
While Luke spoke up. “Who is Y/n Y/l/n.” 
“An old friend.” Rossi quickly interjected, before any more explanation had to be said. It was clear both Alvez and Simmons, that whoever this was, was an extremely touchy subject for Reid. 
Tara, who had only known you for a little while, looked back at the picture. 
Rossie spoke up. “What do we know about the partner who’s helping her?” 
“It’s got to be someone from her prison.” Simmons spoke up. “She hasn’t had contact with anyone else.” 
______________________________________________________________
After all of that, you found yourself back in a place you left four years ago. It looked almost the same as when you had first moved in, but there was less of it. 
Almost as if he was having trouble covering places where things used to be.
There were almost no photos on the walls, since you had taken half of them, and were in the rest. 
Calling someone you once loved a stranger feels wrong. 
Max, as you had learned her name, was just sitting on the couch in your spot . She was looking around as you and Rossi stood by the kitchen counter. 
“Cat had a cellmate named Juliette Weaver. We believe the two were working together, as a way for Cat to get something against Spencer, and as payment, Cat would get Juliette’s ex.”
You nodded. “How does this affect me?” 
“She took your father and sister.” 
Your back straightened and immediately brought out your phone, to call your sister, but Rossi just grabbed your wrist (gently) and shook his head. “If she finds out you know, then it’s all over. She’s doing this on purpose. She knows about you and Reid, but she knows that dragging you into all of this will hurt him more than anything else.” 
His voice had gone low and quiet, so that the girl on the couch couldn’t hear. 
“So why is she here?” You whispered back. 
“Because we don’t want anyone in danger.” 
You closed your eyes and nodded. “I need a cup of tea.” 
Rossi let go of your wrist, and you walked into the kitchen, mostly eyes closed from the stress of the situation. 
The apartment was silent, the others watching as you grabbed a kettle, and started to make tea. It was like second nature to you as you turned the stovetop on, grabbed a mug from the cabinet (careful to not grab one of his favorites), and grabbed some tea from the cabinet. 
It didn’t dawn on you that you were drinking your favorite type of tea until the second sip, while the entire apartment was still silent. 
The pity from Rossi's look was palpable. 
“Don’t even start.” 
He shrugged and stayed silent. 
Until his walkie went off and he looked at Max. “It’s time. Let’s go.” 
Rossi looked back at you and gave you a quick hug, squeezing you tightly. “You’ve got this kid. Remember everything we talked about.” 
You nodded and gave them both a strained smile as they left the apartment, leaving you all alone in this place you once called home, alone. 
Never once, since you left, did you think you would ever be back here. You didn’t even realize you were drinking from one of your own mugs until it was just you. The irony of it was not lost on you, and you sat down in your spot on the couch. 
Well first you sat in Spencer’s seat but it felt too weird, so you shifted back into your spot on the couch. 
______________________________________________________________
“Juliette staked out in Reid’s life. Found out he was dating someone, but then must have discovered his ex-fiancée.” Simmons sighed. “He was probably so focused on Max, he didn’t even realize that someone was digging into his history, following them around.”
Prentiss nodded as they walked and talked. “But if Juliette was able to find Max, that meant she was easily able to find Y/n and her family. It means she must have access to all of her publicly available information. “
“Well at least we found their hidden agenda.” 
“No. We found Cat’s hidden agenda. Juliette doesn’t care about Reid. There’s something we’re missing here. Do a deep dive with Garcia.” 
Simmons nodded at Prentis. “On it.” 
“I’ll go to Reid's apartment and monitor onsite. Is there a trap and trace on his landline?” 
“Garcia’s almost set up.” Simmons walked away from Prentiss, and down towards Penelope’s office. 
“Well this went from bad to worse.” Tara walked up to Emily. 
Emily sighed in agreement. 
Lewis spoke up. “Female narcissists destroy their competition.Y/n  really shouldn’t be in there.” 
Emily just nodded and the two of them headed out of the bullpen. “Walk with me.” 
Tara kept stride with her as they pushed through the doors. Rossi was just getting off the phone with someone and turned to look at the two women approaching him and JJ. 
JJ spoke up when Rossi was finished. “So, the hospital just released the dad– Issac Y/l/n. He's on his way here now.
Rossi scoffed. “Question is, why let him go at all?”
“Matt's on that.” Emily gestures in the direction of Garcia’s office. “Juliette Weaver's real agenda should tell us where she's taking Y/n’s younger sister.”
Lewis spoke next. “I still think the play here is to get Cat and Juliette to contact each other, but I have no idea how.”
Prentiss crossed her arms. “I have a plan, but first we have to talk about Y/n.” 
______________________________________________________________
Just then, you heard the click of the door, and stood up, watching as the door swung open. 
And there he was. 
This was the first time you had seen Spencer in four years. 
And here he was, kissing Catherine Adams. 
The woman you could give partial credit to for ending your relationship. 
After a moment Spencer looked up, and took several steps away from Cat. His eyes were wide and locked on yours. 
It took a lot of self-restraint to not punch the lights out of Cat, and to stand still arms crossed. 
“Y/n?” Spencer’s voice broke a little bit. 
You never would say that Spencer was unattractive. In fact, it would be a lie if you ever said it. But something about the past four years aged him like a fine wine. 
His hair was a bit longer, he had some scruff—his baby face had melted away and standing in front of you was a man who thought you knew everything about, but was now a stranger. 
You didn’t answer him, watching as he took you in, standing in his apartment, for the first time since…
“What are you doing here?” 
You looked over at Cat, who had the most devious smirk on her face. 
Remember what Prentiss had said to you. 
“You know why I’m here.” 
Cat nodded and the two of them moved into the apartment, the door closing behind them. 
Spencer just stood ten feet away from you, eyes never leaving you, and you watched him right back. 
Cat, on the other hand, was walking around, examining the apartment. You could see her take notice of the tea you had made yourself on the counter. You could see the hatred from the corner of your eyes. The two of you were starting to piss her off. 
She spoke up, after a few moments of silence. “Did it make you mad that I was kissing your Fiancé?” 
You shook your head. “No.”
Your focus had fully turned to Cat, but you swore you swore you could hear Spencer take a sharp inhale as you spoke your next words.
“Well, he's not my fiancé and I kind of have some other things on my mind.”
Cat didn’t scare you, but there was just something so off-putting about her. “Like what?” 
“Are you gonna hurt Noelle?”
Cat shrugged. “Not if I don't have to, no. Honestly, if she follows instructions, she might even learn from this whole experience.”
You scoffed. “What does that mean?”
Cat just started fiddling with the chess set on the dresser. 
“Spencer, what does she mean?” You turned to look back at him, his name feeling so good on your tongue. 
Spencer, who really hadn’t stopped looking at you and sighed. “I think…She means that Noelle isn’t learning from her, but from Juliette.” 
You sat down in your spot on the couch, arms crossed. You were on the full defense. 
Spencer noticed where you sat and had to look down to conceal any notions of a smile on his face. 
Cat watched him before turning and looking at you, some more disdain on her face than before. 
“Normally, Spencie and I, we spend our time together playing games, but tonight, I've brought you all here to make a point. You are doing so much better.” 
Spencer spoke up. “With you?”
“I'm not talking to you.” Cat snapped at him before she turned to you. “I'm talking to you. Because, girlfriend, you need to know the truth about your fiancé.” 
“He's not my finacé.” You were unsure about how many more times you could say that outloud. 
“No kidding. When’s the last time you spoke? Right…” Cat walked over to the center of the room, right in front of the couch. “Here?” 
Your head whipped around to Spencer. “You told her about that?”
Spencer was pleading with his eyes. “I had to say a lot of things tonight.”
Cat’s voice caused your head to snap back to her. “Yes, he has. He said that you never compared to me, that, um... That no matter what, he will never get me out of his mind, unlike you. Unlike that girlfriend.” 
You tried not to wince at the mention of that girl Maxine out in one of the trucks.
Spencer sat down next to you. “Everything I said—I was lying to save your family.”
Cat scoffed. “Did our kiss look like a lie?” 
“No.” you just looked down at your hands. 
“Thank you. See, now we're getting to the heart of the matter.” Cat started mocking Spencer. “You see, everyone thinks that Dr. Spencer Reid is... Is just this nice, bookish, uh, genius who, uh, always saves the day and has all the answers. And has zero mommy issues, right? But, um... I know the real him.” 
“Oh, yeah? Who's the real me, Cat?” 
“The real Spencer Reid throws women against walls. And hisses that he's going to kill them.” 
Spencer stood up, squaring off against her.  “That was a very different situation.”
“No, it wasn't.” Cat was holding the smirk back this time, making your gut wretch. 
“Spencer…What is she talking about?” You looked from the psychopath in front of you, to the man you realized you might have never really known beside you.
“You tell her. She's not gonna believe it coming from me.” She huffed. 
Reid turned and looked at you. “Two years ago, Cat had her partner kidnap my mother. Just like tonight. She got under my skin and…”
Your chest hurts. “And you threw her against a wall?” 
Cat’s smirk was breaking through whatever resolve she had. “Don't skimp on the details, Spencie. She deserves to know everything.”
Every single time she said Spencie you swore a shock went up your spine. 
Spencer looked down at his hands, and then over at you. His voice had gotten quieter. “She was pregnant at the time and I knew that when I hurt her.” 
“And?” She stood there expectantly, waiting for Spencer to finish. When he didn’t, her face suddenly became solemn. “The next day... I miscarried. The end.”
Spencer looked at her. “That's not true.” 
“It is most certainly true. Check my medical records.” 
“That doesn't mean I-I would…”
Cat held up her hand to him. “Stop. Look.”
Spencer looked over at you, just sitting on the couch, trying to process everything that was going through your head. 
After thinking about everything you had gone through, especially with Spencer. “I thought you were better than that Spence.” 
It was the first time you had used a nickname for him in years. And he was hearing it for the first time while you were stuck in a standoff between himself and Cat Adams, your sister being god knows where. 
Spencer’s voice cracked. “I'm sorry.” 
Cat squatted down in front of you, a sick smile on her lips. She was enjoying this. She truly enjoyed watching his life crumble to bits. “Notice how your Spencie is apologizing to you and not me.”
You clenched your hands. “He’s not mine…”
Spencer just looked over at you. 
Cat nodded. “That's good. Because men are all the same. Aren't they, Jolie?” 
Spencer’s eyes lit up with an emotion you rarely saw from him when you were together. “Don't call her that.”
And you couldn’t blame him. The word ran you through like a spear and you were sure if you looked behind you, the blade would be through the couch. You tried so hard to not let either of the two people near you see how much it messed with you. Luckily for you, Cat was too busy pushing Spencer’s buttons to see the way her words won against you. 
Cat hissed at him. “What, are you gonna throw me against a wall and choke me, or do you only do that to pregnant women?” 
You finally spoke up. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because I want you to see it.” She gestured to Spencer. “I want you to see that he is...no better than he was before, or any man after. They’re all the same.” 
“Stop.”
Cat squatted down in front of you. “I can see it on your face. What's his name?” 
You stared back at her. “It's none of your business.”
That damned smirk of hers returned. “It is exactly my business. In fact, it's my specialty. I mean, I could have Juliette and baby sister go over there if you want. They could take care of him.” 
Reid looked over at you. “Say yes. Give her what she wants.” 
“Hmm. See, he wants you to get me to make a little phone call so they can trace it.” She moved away from you both and sat down in the lounging chair across from you. “They're so good, the FBI.”
You jumped up and started pacing, a spitting image of four years ago. “What is wrong with the two of you? What is this sick, twisted thing that you have? Listen, I just want to save my sister. Will you please just tell me what I have to do to do that?” 
“Tell me his name. Tell me the story. That's it. And then if they can let Juliette exit stage right, then I promise you I will let her go.”
You looked between Cat and Spencer before walking over to the kitchen, and hanging up the phone. After staring down at the decision you had just made, you walked back over and took your phone out. “Here.  Use this. Use my phone. They can't trace it.”
She just watched you. “You'd be surprised.”
“I don't even need a call. Just... just a photo.” You held the phone out to her. “Something to prove to me that she's still alive. Please”. 
Cat just looked up at your face. “Story first.”
“Y/n. Please.” Spencer turned to you, hoping you’d look back at him. “I have been here with her before. She called the number and told the partner to kill my mom.”
“It is so tricky, isn't it? I mean, who are you gonna trust? The lying, cheating, violent psychopath... Or me?”
You looked down at the ground, refusing to look over at Spencer. “His…His name was Mike Davis. We dated for two years. I met him a month after we…we split.”
Cat’s attention on you felt as if there were a million bees stinging your body all at different intervals, pain coursing through your body. “Good. When did it end?” 
“Last year.” 
“Was he good in bed?” 
Spencer stood up. “Shut up.” 
Cat was enjoying this. She was enjoying watching you make Spencer uncomfortable. She was enjoying hurting him in every masochistic way she could. “What? You have to know where you stand.”
“He was good…” You looked back at Cat. “Good at, um, separating me from my friends and my family. Enough that the first time he punched me in the face, I didn't have anywhere to go. And my first response wasn't "get out." It wasn't "go to hell." It was "I'm sorry, Mike." That's when he knew he had me.”
There was a glint in Spencer’s eyes, and you could swear they were tears, but you couldn’t tell from rage or sorrow. 
Cat continued to probe. “How many hospital visits were there?” 
You showed her a small scar on the inside of your elbow. “None. No, he... He knew how to hurt me just enough to hide it all, I guess.”  
“But you found the strength to leave. What did you do?” 
“ I planned and I... I waited.”
Cat’s eyes lit up. “Waited for what? “
“I live here in D.C.” You looked between Spencer and Cat. “but I'm also a resident in Virginia. It takes 60 days for the permit to clear.”
Spencer’s eyes widened. “Y/n, stop talking. Stop talking right now.”
Cat shushed him. “No, don't stop. Here. Give me the phone. Look, I'm gonna enter the text. Stick the landing and I'll hit "send."
You handed her the phone and she quickly typed out a message, her thumb hovering over send. 
Fiddling with your ring finger, you started to speak again. Slowly. Concisely. “When I was ready, I picked a fight. Loud enough for the neighbors to hear. And he came at me with his fist just cocked back, so I pulled my Glock 19 out of my purse. I shot him.”
Spencer tried to interject. “It was self-defense. He was attacking you—”
“That's what I told 911 as he was struggling to breathe on his kitchen floor. That's why the police never charged me. I’m a lawyer, I know how to plead.” You closed your eyes. “But I... after I hung up, I... I shot him two more times.” 
Cat was glowing, spinning around to face Spencer. “Wow, you really have a type, don't you? Quite a dilemma, too. She just admitted to murder.” 
Spencer was in disbelief. “She'll beat it.” . 
“Probably. But whatever feelings she might have still had for you, and whatever Maxine might have seen in you—-it’s all gone.” 
The phone in your hand buzzed.
“Oh, wow. Look at that. Your sister. Alive and well. You're welcome.” 
Your face hardened up, and you stood up straighter. Walking away from the two of them, you opened the door. “I got it.” 
She took the phone from your hand and you turned back to the two of them. There was no emotion behind your eyes as you looked back at Spencer. 
Cat smirked and looked up at Spencer. “I win.” 
______________________________________________________________
The prison transport was quiet, with the two guards sitting across from Spencer and Cat. It had been silent for about twenty minutes, but then, Cat spoke up. 
“Do you know why I did this? Why I really did this?” 
Spencer looked down at his hands. “You wanted to prove I'm a monster just like you.”
“No... Silly. I just wanted to see you again. I just wanted to make sure that you would never forget about me.” She sighed. “'Cause when they do put that needle in my arm, I just want there to be even the slightest chance that... Maybe you're still thinking about me…”
Spencer stiffened as she placed her head on his shoulder. “You didn't have to terrorize 3 innocent people. You could've just written a letter.” 
“Would you have written me back?” 
When Spencer didn’t respond, Cat knew her answer. 
“Bye, Spencie. I really enjoyed our date.” She smiled at him desperately, getting dragged out of the vehicle by the guards to the prison. 
______________________________________________________________
The elevator door opened and Spencer walked out of it, his whole body reeked of defeat, and he barely looked at Emily as she spoke.  “We need to debrief.” 
Spencer just walked right past her, and into the bullpen. His expression changed when he saw you on one side talking to Tara, and Max on the other, looking up at him right as he walked in. 
“Spencer, are you okay?” 
Her voice caught your ear, and immediately you looked up to see her walk over and embrace him in a hug. 
He smiled at her, and grateful returned the hug before muttering that he would be back, and explain everything.
You were never going to get back together with Spencer, but watching it in real time was like unlacing an old wound. 
Spencer walked over to you, and you stood up as he approached. 
“Uh, Tara, would you mind giving us…”
She nodded at him and walked away. 
Both of you went to speak, trying to say something to the other. 
“I should explain all of this.” 
Spencer shook his head. “You don’t have to explain any of that Y/n—it doesn’t.” 
You cut him off. “It was fake—most of it. I didn’t kill anyone, Spence. I was just lying to her to get her to send the text from my phone. It was all…It was made up.” 
He just nodded, staring at you really. 
You gave him a soft smile, and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. Both of you could feel the pulse between it, making you remove your hand and take a small step back. 
“Thank you for saving my sister and father.” 
Spencer watched your resolve fully formed, masking whatever you were feeling. He hated watching it happen to him, watching as you placed whatever feelings you had back into somewhere he couldn’t find. 
Garcia walked over and placed a hand on Spencer’s shoulder. “I just need you both to know, Cat Adams had a miscarriage, but it was months after whatever encounter you had. It’s not your fault. We looked at her records.” She was speaking low for you both, yet both of you let out a quiet sigh of relief. 
“They filled me in on everything that happened between both of you in the past couple years, and they asked me if I would be willing to…help them beat her.” 
Spencer looked up at you, and unlike yourself, every single emotion Spencer was feeling was racing across his face. 
He didn’t like that you knew about everything that had gone down. He was so happy you were okay. He was a little impressed by the way you beat Cat at her own game. He was upset that you put yourself in danger. 
“They gave me an ear piece and everything.” 
Spencer shook his head. “You’re not trained—that’s extremely dangerous of you.” 
You sighed and nodded. “Unfortunately Spencer, this is…this was the life I was used to when we were together. I knew the stakes. I mean the briefings I had with Hotch after you relapsed…” 
Spencer just clammed up and stood a bit straighter. “ I never knew..”
“It was like that on purpose. I didn’t want you to think that you were a burden or too much or—I was doing it for the potential of…” You cut yourself of, flinching at the parallels between this and your previous final conversation. 
You looked over at Garcia. “I need my bag Pen.” You whispered, taking a step away from Spencer. “I shouldn’t…I finished my job. My family is safe…” 
She had a rueful look on her face, but she nodded and took your arm, walking you back over to the desk where your stuff was. 
He looked up at Emily and walked over to her. “I’m…uh. I’m gonna go walk her out and then I’ll be right back.” 
Emily gave him the saddest smile, and just nodded. She knew that nothing she could say could make it any better. 
You grabbed your coat, and your bag, and the two of you walked to the elevator in silence, riding it all the way down to the parking garage, where your car was still there from this afternoon, all of those hours ago. 
You looked over at Spencer, tears in your eyes, having not said anything to him. 
As soon as he met your eyes, you dropped your bag, and Spencer wrapped his arms around you tightly, just holding you and resting his head on yours; trying to give you the comfort that he was rarely able to give you. 
Sobbing into his arms, you just tightly wrapped your arms around his torso and just held onto him tightly. Trying to decompress, trying to truly understand everything that had happened in the past twelve hours. 
It was Spencer who spoke first. 
“I’m so so sorry Y/n.” He whispered. “I never meant any of this to happen to you, and for you to get dragged back here and—” 
You shook your head slightly, but didn’t move from where you were. Neither of you did. 
“It’s what she wanted, Spence, and unfortunately for us, this was always bound to happen.” You whispered. 
The hug felt so good, but something about it was just so different. 
It’s not the way it used to be. 
“I need to go Spencer.” 
He nodded, and this time you moved away from him. His hand came up and wiped away one of the remaining tears on your cheek. 
You closed your eyes, and took a deep breath. 
“Oh fuck, why is this so fucking hard four years later.” You laughed, trying to regain any sort of composure. 
“Y/n…”
You took another step away from him and shook your head. 
“We can’t—I’m not.” You tried so hard to find the right words without bursting into tears again. “Spencer. I cannot put myself back to where I was four years ago. I can’t do it. And yes things have changed, but maybe that is for the better. Maybe you were always meant to be my maybe, and not my always.” 
You took another breath, but kept going. “You are amazing, and funny, and so smart Spence. But this…we ran our course. It didn’t work then, and I don’t know if I have it in me to try again just for it to fail.” 
“Y/n please.” 
“I will always love you but this…It’s time to…It’s time to stop. I have to go back to my life, and you go back upstairs to yours, with Prentiss and Rossi and Penelope and…Max.” 
Both of you winced as you said her name, but you took a step forward, moving to kiss him on the cheek. 
Spencer gently grabbed you face, giving you enough time to back out. 
You didn’t. 
His lips locked with yours, his thumb rubbing against your cheek as the two of you shared one more moment, just for the two of you. 
But it had to end. 
You couldn’t go back to the anxiety, the arguing, the petty disagreements. It wasn’t good for you. It was good for either of you. 
Stepping away again, you gently kissed his cheek, and started to slowly walk to your car. 
Right as you got to your car, you turned around and made eye contact with him one last time before the elevator doors closed, both of you with the most gut wrenching smile slightly plastered across your faces. 
You mouthed goodbye, unable to speak it out loud, and he nodded, tears filling his eyes as he whispered it back to you. 
The doors shut. 
You were all alone in this hollow parking garage. 
Your heart was aching, burning. 
But there was a sigh of relief, that came with the doors closing, and saying goodbye for the last, last time. 
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daydreamerwoah · 2 days
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Family Tree
Alright so this was the first chapter I posted on my AO3. I hadn't started on a new chapter (cause I really abandoned this idea lol). But I think this is the second story I want to work on... It'll be a slow burn, so I think I'll be taking my time writing this. But I want to see how you all like the first chapter... send me all the feedback (if it's a stupid idea please tell me lol!)
Simon x you story <3
Moving. It was something you were so unpleasantly familiar with. You had moved more times than you could count in your lifetime. But moving to Hereford, UK.... what creator above the skies decided on that? You could have said no; you had a choice..... yet you chose to move halfway across the world to that small town all because of the phone call you received a couple of months ago. 
"H-hello?" you groggily asked when you set your phone on your ear. 
"Hi may I speak with Y/n Greene?" the voice on the other end of the line was chipper; awake. And a thick British accent.
One of your eyes opened to look at the clock on your nightstand. It read 1:48am. Who the hell was calling you, awake, at this hour?
"Yeah? Who is this?" 
"My name is Colonel Henry Williams... I'm calling you about your father-"
"-My father?" Your other eye opened as you sat up in bed, confused. 
"Yes ma'am... Major Charles Campbell." 
You had no idea who the guy was talking about, "I'm sorry. Who?" 
There was a long pause on the other end of the line. You almost wondered if the man hung up the phone until he spoke again. "Y're Y/n Greene no?"
"Yes. Look I don't know who-"
"- is your mother's name Mary Greene?" You froze. How did he know that? You answered 'yes' as you turned the lamp on your nightstand, "Alright. You're the right contact then. Miss, I'm sorry to have to tell you this," he paused for a moment, "Y're father - Charles Campbell - recently passed away."
While any other child would be devastated to hear the news that their parent has just died, you were more confused than anything. Your mom and dad were still in Chicago. And while you hadn't spoken to them in a long time, you knew for a fact that if either of them passed your aunt would have called you; not some British guy claiming he was a Colonel......right?
When you hung up from him, you almost went back to sleep. Except your mind was racing. None of it made sense, yet something in your gut was telling you to call the one woman you had been avoiding since you graduated from college. Your eyes glanced back at the clock; 2:30am. You guessed you could wait until at least the sun was up before dialing her number. So you did. Painfully slow as you couldn't go back to sleep. You found yourself pacing around your apartment for those four hours until you knew - or assumed - your mother would be up getting ready for work. When the time neared 7am, your shaky hands scrolled your phone to the contact 'Mary'. If it had been any other situation, you would have scoffed at the name. Most people have 'Mom' in their phone for the parent who gave them birth. But you.... you hadn't called her that in a long time. 
"Y/n?" she answered. Not even a proper hello. 
"Hey uh.. sorry to be calling so early-" you stumbled over your words. You were nervous.
"-Oh it's okay.." 
There was a long, awkward pause. You nervously bit your lip. A part of you wanted to ask how was she doing, but you knew better. The answer would always be the same. 
"Listen.... I got a call from someone last night. Well early this morning. Something about my dad? Charles Campbell?" You rushed out before you chickened and hung up the phone in her ear. 
The sharp breath you heard on her end of the line made you shut your eyes. 
"C-Charles?"
You sighed, "Yes..." 
She stuttered, "I-I.... oh Y/n. I mean-"
"-You told me Rick was my dad." You declared a harsher than you wanted to be." 
"He is your dad sweetie."
Frustration swam through your veins, "Don't lie to me Mary."
Another long and awkward pause between your conversation almost caused you to hang up the phone, but then you heard her sniffle. A long story full of emotions came babbling out of her mouth as she explained the full truth about Charles Campbell. He was your real dad. 
A lot of cursing and yelling came from your mouth as she continued to tell you why she never told you; why she thought it was for the best to keep this secret. Even your - well now stepdad - knew everything, yet no one said a goddamn thing. You were so sick of her bullshit. Your whole life was nothing but chaos and it all came from her choices. The constant moving, her in and out of mental institutions and rehab, Rick's constant distaste for you in your own house. You were so lucky to have left all of it behind when you turned 18, but it wouldn't be easy. It's never easy letting go of someone you're supposed to love. College years were spent struggling to keep up your grades and cleaning up the mess from those two adults. 
You thought back to the conversation with the Colonel and his offer; to move to England since the house was left to you from your dad's will. An opportunity you thought about for two days before calling the man and stating you would be there. A part of you just wanted to see the other part of the world. The other part was ready to get away from it all forever. Your aunt cried when you told her. Your job was a bit sad, but like any job, they would find a replacement. Your mom... well you hadn't spoken to her since that day when she told you everything. 
It was the beginning of a new life.
************************************************************************
You dashed into the cafe from the rain. It was one thing you had quickly gotten used to, but still sometimes hated. The rain was comforting, but not when you were trying to get to work. You had yet to buy a damn umbrella although you kept telling yourself you would. There was a line that formed in front of the register and you internally sighed as you pulled the hood off of your head. You glanced down at your watch; you had some time before you needed to be at work so it eased your mind a little bit. At least the cafe was warm inside with its aroma of coffee, tea, and soft jazz music.
When it was your turn to order, you asked for the same drink you always got; a latte and made it to go. The barista gave you the same curious look as she did each time she saw you. You quickly paid for your drink and took a few steps back to turn around to stand off to the side to wait for your order when you backed up into something hard. 
"Shit sorry," you quietly said as you turned and looked at what you bumped into. 
"S'alright" the gentleman said. 
He was tall; massive; arms bigger than the side of your thigh, with a balaclava on. He had his hood up that was drenched from the rain outside. His dark clothing made his presence feel colder. You blushed in embarrassment from bumping into him; being clumsy in public seemed to be something you did at times. The man's eyes raked over you as you looked back at him. A beat went by until you realized that you standing in his way from ordering; the barista clearing her throat loudly. You quickly moved out of the way and waited for your drink, hoping they'd call out the order before the man finished placing his at the register. Luck - not on your side today - slipped away as he made his way in your direction to wait on his drink as well. He stood next to you, crumbling the receipt in his hand and placing both in his pockets. 
God he was huge; 6'3" compared to your height, he towered over you even with the space between. 
When the barista called out your order, you quickly walked up to the counter, grabbed the to-go cup, and thanked the girl. The man's eyes followed you... curiosity lingering behind the mask as he took in your presence - slightly flustered and in a hurry. You took one last look at him, offering a quick smile before dashing out of the cafe to work, thankful to be out of the awkward situation. 
Being a nurse, you're saving lives each day, but still, there was a big difference from being a nurse in a different country. You were buddied up with another nurse, Ella to help with your onboarding and training. She was a few years younger than you and was eager to help you find your way around the hospital and systems. The thing that stood out to you the most was the dog tags she wore around her neck. In the beginning, you asked her if she was ex-military, but she only smiled and told you that it was her boyfriend's tags. He was in the military and often gone so she wore them as a form of good luck that he'd return to her safe. 
"The base is 'bout 15 minutes from here," she explained. 
You only nodded and smiled; you were aware of where the base was. The first day you arrived, you met Colonel Williams at the airport who escorted you to his office. There was paperwork you had to sign regarding your father, including his house, assets, and more that they had information on and they were able to help sort it all out with you. The Colonel even offered assistance with you finding a job - which he helped you get at the hospital. You couldn't have been more grateful honestly. 
It was also something you hadn't really talked to Ella about. She only knew that you moved to the area because of family, and she easily picked up on how uncomfortable you were to even say that. You stayed to yourself mostly, and that's how you wanted it to be. Although she was determined to break down those walls you had. Deep down she and you both knew that you needed a friend, someone to lean on. You didn't know anyone in the entire country, and if anything were to happen to you, at least she would be there to call the police. But you were stubborn; that was for sure. 
Ella glanced at you, "You want to go for drinks after our shift?" she asked. 
Every muscle in your body tensed as you wrote down your shift notes. You briefly looked up as you responded to her, "Uh sorry. I need to take care of a few things after work." 
You didn't lie... you didn't tell the full truth either. But Ella didn't need to know that. While you didn't have to take care of anything per se, you did need to go somewhere after you got off. 
"Maybe next time then," she smiled. 
One thing about Ella... she wouldn't let your rejections to hang out deter her from asking any chance she got. 
************************************************************************
The sun was setting as you walked past the many gravestones looking for the one you needed to find. The air was chilly from the rain earlier, making you shiver a bit as you continued on the path. 
Even though you had been in that town for almost a month, you had yet to visit your dad. It felt.... strange; paying respects to someone you never knew. But as you strolled up to the tombstone that read his name, a part of you felt like this was all a dream. Maybe even a nightmare that you couldn't wake up from. You laid the flowers in front of the grave as you continued to look at his name - Major Charles Campbell. 
"Uh.. I know..." you put your hands in your pocket, nervous about what the hell to even say out loud, "I-I'm Y/n... your daughter...... To be honest, I'm a bit lost for words right now. I had no idea you were my dad," a soft and bitter chuckle escaped your lips, "If Mary was anything back then like she is now, then I'm sorry you had to deal with her-" a long sigh drew from you, "but I'm here now.... I'm sorry I never got to meet you.... a Colonel is helping me sort everything out so I'll get the keys to the house soon." You look up at the sky, cursing to yourself at how stupid you thought you sounded, "Charles - dad - even though I didn't know you, I hope I'll get to see you in heaven one day. Maybe you can tell me all about you."
You hadn't realized that a lone tear trickled down your cheek until you felt the cold breeze. You quickly wiped it away before sticking your hand back in your pocket and turning to leave the cemetery. 
If you all do like this and want me to continue, let me know. If you want to be tagged I will add you :)
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dinoswithswords · 4 months
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IVE STAYED UP ALL NIGHT TI FINISH BOOK 6 OF HEAVEN’S OFFICIAL BLESSING aAND I AM IN TEARS THE LAST CHAPTERS ARE THE MOST HEART WRENCHING GUT CRUSHING CHAPTERS IVE EVER READ OMG I HAVENT BEEN THROUGH SUCH AN EMOTIONAL ROLLERCOASTER SINCE 5TH GRADE
I want to say that I’m speechless but I have so much to say I just don’t know how so I’m just going to scream or something
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ricolaviecher · 2 months
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Who's the dad
This is a Evan Buckley (9-1-1) fanfiction I have finally decided to post. It is the first or second fanfiction I have written in my whole life so this is probably bad. English is not my first language so there could be a few mistakes.
I hope everyone who reads this enjoys it. If anyone has feedback, I am open for it.<3
Summary: A few months after a one-night stand leaves (Y/N) pregnant, she unexpectedly meets the baby's father at a BBQ at her dad's fire station.
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The blonde guy was hot, (Y/N) had to admit. His baby blue shirt lets his eyes glow in the most perfect way.
“So why are you here today?”, (Y/N) asked. They both had a silent deal: no name’s, no prying for information.
“Hard day at work”, the man answered. “You?”
“Hard week.” (Y/N) knew she was already drunk, but she ordered another tequila. In the afternoon, she brought her kids to their grandparents, Bobby and Athena. The reason she told them: I need the evening for drinking until I don’t even know my name anymore.
She knew drinking wasn’t going to solve her problem, but it would numb her for at least one night. It would make her forget the pain.
The man nodded, but she didn’t even know what she had said before.
They drank a few drinks together until both of them saw black spots dancing in front of their eyes.
(Y/N) knew it was wrong what she wanted to do know. She wanted to kiss this man. She wanted to forget why she was here tonight. She knew exactly how wrong it would be. How disappointed everyone would look at her. But screw it. She wanted him and she wanted him now.
She leant forward and pressed a kiss on his lips. It felt so right, but so wrong. It didn’t matter. The blonde deepened the kiss. The next thing (Y/N) knew was that they were in the man’s apartment. In his bed.
___
(Y/N) did her best to hide the baby bump – but it didn’t help much. Maybe she could tell everyone she has just eaten too much when they were in Europe. She hasn’t seen anyone of her family in the last 5 months. They didn’t know she was pregnant and they are not supposed to. Half a year ago she packed her stuff and drove away with the kids.
After her husband died and she slept with this stranger, she had to leave. She wasn’t able to stay anymore. She was ashamed of herself. How was she able to sleep with someone just some hours after Henry died? They weren’t always happy but she loved him. He had been her world. Until he was gone.
“Mommy? How much longer we have to drive?” James asked from the back of the car. He was the most impatient of her kids.
“Only around half an hour then you can finally see grandpa and grandma again.”
(Y/N) heard a sigh from her son and chuckled.
“Is there going to be cake? Is grandpa going to make pasta for us?” Cameron. She and James are twins and couldn’t be more similar. Both impatient and always hungry until they ate two bites and complain about being too full to eat any more.
“I don’t know. I have never been to a party at the station.” Nobody knew they were going to come. It was going to be a surprise.
Suddenly, Emily began to cry in her seat. The two-year old always slept in the car, but when she woke up, she always had a shock and started to cry when she noticed they were driving.
“Liv, can you please give Emily her pacifier?” The 14-year-old didn’t seem to hear her mom, as she had her headphones in her ears and scrolled through TikTok’s.
“Liv! Give your sister her damn pacifier!” Finally.
After two weeks in Europe, (Y/N) was already super annoyed. She tried to keep it cool, but it wasn’t easy to be with four kids and pregnant when she didn’t have her husband around.
___
Just a few minutes later, (Y/N) parked in front of the firehouse. She had been here before. Not inside it but she had dropped off her father a few times when his car was at the car repair.
“Ok! We are here! All out of the car!” (Y/N) picked up her youngest and followed the rest of the kids inside the firehouse.
She didn’t see many people downstairs, but around 50 people were upstairs.
“(Y/N)? Hey! You’re back! Where were you in the last few months? We tried to call you but you didn’t answer. We were so worried!” Bobby literally ran to her and hugged her as tightly as possible with Emily between them. “She grew up so much”, he said, reaching out to stroke Emily’s back.
“Yes. She absolutely did.” (Y/N) could see the worried and exhausted expression on her father’s face and immediately felt sorry for not even writing him and Athena a message that she and the kids were ok.
“May I introduce you to the team?”, Bobby asked after hugging the twins and Liv, who finally put away her headphones.
The 118’s Captain led his family to a bunch of people in uniforms.
“These guys are Eddie, Chimney, Hen and Buck.” (Y/N)’s breath caught in her throat. Fuck. The super-hot guy stood in front of her. With his uniform he looked even better that in his baby blue shirt he wore the last time. Why the fuck did she still remember what this guy had worn when they met in the bar?!
“Meet (Y/N), Liv, James, Cameron and Emily.”
“Hey! Nice to meet y’all”, (Y/N) said overly friendly, trying to hide the surprise, as well as Buck did.
“Grandpa? You have cake?”, Cameron asked Bobby.
“Of course. A party without cake isn’t a party. Come on, I’ll show you all.” Bobby led the kids away from (Y/N) and the team, over to the kitchen island on which many plates of cake were standing.
“’So… you are Cap’s daughter?”, a brown-haired man asked, who (Y/N) remembered as Eddie.
“Yepp, that’s me.” (Y/N) looked at Buck who looked just as surprised, as she felt.
“So, you are Buck?”, she asked him just as a try to build a conversation. She tugged gently on her shirt, as she didn’t want Buck to notice her baby bump.
“Uhm… yes. I am. Evan Buckley. So… these are your kids? You look quite young”, Buck asked and (Y/N) furrowed her brow until she realized, they haven’t talked about ages when they spent the night together. She was quite young for already having 4 kids. She had Liv when she was 16, but she barely told people, as she always got these judging looks.
“Yes, they are.” (Y/N) stared at the ground, unable to hold eye contact with the man she had a breathtaking night.
“Father’s not in the picture?”, Eddie asked and (Y/N) could see that Buck was relieved, that his friend asked the question, so he didn’t seem too suspicious.
“Um, no. He died 5 months ago. Car accident.” Instead of staring at the ground, (Y/N) now looked at the ceiling, trying to stop the tears, which always threatened to flow freely, whenever she talked about her late husband.
When she finally managed to make eye contact with Evan, she could see pain written over his face. Her husband died 5 months ago, around the same time, she slept with him. Had he been some kind of replacement? He knew they agreed to one night – no personal information, but it still hurt to know she didn’t actually feel the tiniest bit. She only had tried to compensate everything.
---
Around 3 hours later, in which the 118 got a small call once but came back after only one and a half hour, they all sat at the big table, because it was dinner time. Most of the time, (Y/N) stood on the sidelines, as she didn’t really feel comfortable around all these people she barely knew, and Buck. Nobody seemed to have noticed the baby bump which was covered under her shirt.
And now, (Y/N) even felt nauseous and had cramps in her lower belly. Her other pregnancies had gone quite well, except the last few months with the twins, but this pregnancy was terrible. She already had to go to hospital 4 times in the last 5 months, as she couldn’t keep anything down and had been severely dehydrated.
After only 2 bites, (Y/N) had to lay down the fork because she felt like she would throw up right away if she ate only one more bite. She had already thrown up breakfast and everything she drank today. She was lucky no one noticed she hasn’t eaten a piece of cake before.  
“Are you ok?”, the brown-haired man from before asked. Eddie? (Y/N) has always been terrible with names and couldn’t remember any. It took her 2 weeks to even remember Henry’s name after she met him, something he also made fun of, even years later.
“Uh yes. Just not feeling too great today”, she answered, trying to suppress the feeling to be sick. Her throat felt tight and her stomach felt like it was twisting and turning. The cramps were still present. She knew she wasn’t having a miscarriage as she once had one, and it felt different. The symptoms were pretty much the same, but she had another feeling. She had felt like something was missing, but this here wasn’t any better.
“You sure? You don’t look too good and you haven’t eaten much. Don’t you like the food?”, her father intervened now.
“The food’s great. Really. I haven’t been feeling my best today, that’s it.”
“Do you want one of the medics to take a look at you?” Bobby really seemed worried, but his daughter waved him off.
“Dad. Don’t make more out of it than it is.” Her dad made an acknowledging sound and (Y/N) thanked him silently with a small nod.
(Y/N) fidgeted with her hands, a nervous habit, she always did when she felt uncomfortable. Today, this many people were too much. She has never liked being around many people for a long time. She felt like everyone was staring at her and making fun off her or thinking of her as a disappointment when she did something wrong. Her kids were different, except of Liv. Liv came after her mom in these things, while the others luckily came after their dad and were the most social persons in this world.
Everyone looked at (Y/N), as she suddenly stood up, because a wave of nausea waved over her. As fast as possible she went to the restrooms, but only made it to the sink, where she threw up the bit of water she had managed to drink before. She rinsed her mouth and looked in the mirror. She looked like shit. Her skin was pale and her lips dry.
The door opened, and a woman stepped inside. She was around as tall as (Y/N) was and wore a wine-red shirt, that showed she worked at the 911 dispatch center. Had she been at the dinner table before? Or has (Y/N) just not seen her?
“Oh hey. Sorry. Just needed a break from out there. Who are you? I have never seen you here before. I am Maddie by the way. Chimney’s fiancé, Buck’s sister.”
(Y/N) raised an eyebrow. Buck’s sister?
“(Y/N). Bobby’s daughter. Nice to meet you.”
“Are you okay? You don’t look too well.” Again, this question. No, she wasn’t ok. But she didn’t say anything, so everyone should stop asking her. If she wanted someone to know she wasn’t well, she would tell.
“It’s okay. Just not feeling my best today.” Maddie nodded.
“Ok.” She didn’t pry further to get information, what (Y/N) was very thankful for.
“Soo. You are Bobby’s daughter? Athena has never mentioned, that Bobby has a daughter. She usually talks about everything.” Maddie furrowed her brow.
(Y/N) shrugged her shoulders.
“He doesn’t like talking about his private life too much.”
(Y/N) went back to the table, after she was sure she wouldn’t have to throw up again. But when she arrived at the dinner table again, she felt she was dizzy. Congratulations. First, she was sick and now she was dizzy because she didn’t drink or eat enough today.
She caught Bobby’s concerned gaze as he was looking at her, before everything went black.
___
“Heyyy! Here we go. You with us again?” She felt something painful on her chest and after a few moments she realized it was someone performing sternal rub to bring her back around. (Y/N) grumbled something.
When she tried to sit up again, there was a firm hand on her shoulder that kept her laid down.
“Damn, let me sit up if I want to. I am fine.” But (Y/N) noticed on her own how hoarse she sounded from being sick.
The hand suddenly disappeared from her shoulder, but when (Y/N) sat up, the hand was back at her back to steady her and kept her from falling over. Finally, she managed to open her eyes and caught look on the brown-haired man – Eddie. Evan sat directly next to her.
“We are just going to check a few things, ok?” All (Y/N) did, was giving an acknowledging sound from her.
The next thing she felt was a pulse-oximeter being slipped on her index finger and a blood pressure cuff on the other arm. She winced when Eddie inflated it and it squeezed tightly around her arm, which made her eyes well up with tears.
She had never liked the BP reading. When she was a kid, she cried freely as it made her arm feel like needles were jabbing it.
“Sorry.” Eddie was quick to deflate the cuff again after noticing the tears in (Y/N)’s eyes but she just shook her head to show everything’s ok. “BP’s 108/70. We are going to give you something to raise it again.”
“No! Wait!” (Y/N) frantically said. “I… I…” She made a sign for Eddie to come near to her so she could whisper into his ear without anyone hearing it. “I am pregnant but no one can know yet. I didn’t tell anyone.”
“Okayyy… I think we should go somewhere more private.” (Y/N) nodded agreeing.
Despite the other’s confused looks, they made their way to the locker room. Once they were there, Eddie began talking again.
“Has this happened before?”
“Yes, I already was in hospital because of it but it is just this morning sickness. I can’t keep anything down and it makes me dehydrated.” When (Y/N) looked to her right, she could see Buck looking at them but he couldn’t hear anything, right? He wasn’t as near and it was quite loud upstairs.
“Mhm. I want to hook you up on an IV if that’s ok with you? I don’t want you to be as dehydrated as you are now and I figure you don’t want a trip to the ER?”
“Yes, if that is possible, please.”
Only a few seconds later, (Y/N) could see her dad storming into the locker room.
“Sweetheart, what happened?” He looked kind of mad but also worried.
“Ehm… It is complica…”
“She is dehydrated because she didn’t drink or eat enough. She just wants to be alone for a moment and I can give her an IV,” Eddie intervened. (Y/N) shot him a thankful gaze and a tiny smile. She liked Eddie. He was really kind. She couldn’t think of any of her friends, who would do that for her.
“Mhm. Ok. I am going to call Athena. She said she would be here earlier. I’ll come back later.”
Bobby disappeared as fast as he came into the room.
“Thanks. For not telling him.” Eddie smiled at her.
“It’s not on me. And I think there are going to be better circumstances for that talk. How far are you?”
“5 months.”
“Ah. May I ask…”, he hesitated for a moment. “Is it your late husband’s baby?”
“No.” You didn’t know for sure why you told him, but he kind of let you feel calm and safe. “We didn’t… you know… the time before he died. We argued a lot. Had a one-night stand just a few hours after he died.”
“You know the father? Were you able to call and tell him?” Eddie looked honestly interested while he put an IV bag out of the medkit.
(Y/N) shook her head before nodding.
“I haven’t seen him… until today.” Eddie looked shocked and raised his eyebrows.
“Today? Is he here? At the station?”
(Y/N) nodded guiltily and looked at the ground when she heard Eddie chuckle.
“Damn, tell me more. Who is it?”
“Buck.”
“Buck?” The firefighter looked even more shocked than before and you nodded again.
“I didn’t know his name we agreed to ‘no personal information’. Why would I know he worked at my dad’s workplace? God… when he will find out he is going to be so pissed.” Eddie shook his head.
“Nah, I don’t think so. He will understand. And hey. You don’t have to defend yourself.” She smiled at his kindness.
She watched as Eddie swabbed the alcohol pad over the back of her hand.
“I would recommend to close your eyes if you are not good with needles”, he suggested. But (Y/N) couldn’t. She needed to see what Eddie was doing, even though she wasn’t good with needles. When the firefighter pushed the needle in the back of her hand, she let out a small squeal.
“Told you to keep your eyes closed but you refused to listen.” She heard Eddie chuckle. “Do you have any other symptoms I should be worried about?”
“I have cramps”, she admitted.
“Lower belly?” (Y/N) nodded. Why couldn’t she just have been home. She would lie on the couch and relax, but instead she was here, being poked and prodded by a firefighter.
“Can I take a look?” She nodded again. Eddie pulled her shirt over her abdomen and pressed his palm on different spots. (Y/N) looked upstairs, and froze. Fuck. She forgot that Evan was still standing upstairs, looking at the locker room. Looking at her.
Her eyes widened. Why had she agreed to this? Why didn’t she insist on being ok and went home? Why was she so stupid? She wanted to slap herself for not thinking.
Eddie seemed to notice her sudden panic, the pulse-oximeter, which was still clipped to her finger, chirped in high pitched noises.
“Hey, hey. Look at me. Deep breaths. What’s up?”
“B… Buck.” The firefighter looked where she was pointing at and sucked in a deep breath.
“Ok. That’s ok. We’ll fix that, after we are finished here, ok? It’ll be ok. Don’t worry. Try to breathe with me, the baby won’t like you breathing like that.” Demonstrative, Eddie took some deep breaths. “Do you know the gender yet?”
(Y/N) could tell that Eddie was only trying to distract her but she played along.
“A… girl. It’s a girl. Again.” She laughed. Her breathing became slower, steadier.
“That’s great. You already told your kids?”
“Mhm.”
“How did they react? Are they happy?” Eddie grinned at her.
“Y… yes. They are. James was a bit d- disappointed at first. H- he hoped he would finally get a brother t- to play soccer with.” (Y/N) smiled. “But the g- girls were all over t-the moon.”
The brown-haired man, put an oxygen mask over her face, which she tried to pull off, but his hand was immediately back, to hold the mask in place.
“Let it on, please”, he said with a look at the pulse-oximeter which was still chirping. “It’ll make it easier to breathe for you.
(Y/N) nodded, even though she hated the feeling of the mask, which made her feel the opposite of ‘easier to breathe’.
“Can I have a listen to the baby’s heartbeat?” After he had seen (Y/N) nodded again, he took the stethoscope and pressed the diaphragm to her belly.
“Looks good so far. The heartbeat is a bit fast for my liking but it’s nothing too concerning, just take some deep breaths, ok?”
“Copy, Firefighter Diaz.” (Y/N) took some deep breaths.
Just a few seconds later, someone stormed into the locker room. Buck.
“You… you are pregnant?” Buck hoped that (Y/N) would tell him it wasn’t his. That it was her husband’s.
“Yes.” She was surprised that her voice didn’t sound as high and panicking as she thought it would. She was scared. Scared of Buck’s reaction, which became even more clear, as the pulse-oximeter started to chirp frantically again.
Eddie took a look and was surprised how high the shown numbers were.
“Deep breaths”, he commanded her. But she couldn’t.
“Who’s the dad? Is it mine? Or is there a tiny chance, that it is your husband’s?” Even though (Y/N) thought something like that would come out of Buck’s mouth, she felt disappointment deep in her. She hoped he would not sound as panicked as he was now.
“Your’s.” (Y/N) fell silent, holding her breath in anticipation of what Evan would say now.
“Oh… wow. I have to admit that is a shock. Why… why didn’t you tell me? I could have been there with you.”
“I didn’t have your number, your address, your workplace. Not even your name! I didn’t even know if you lived in LA or somewhere else! What should I have done?”
Eddie put the oxygen mask over her mouth and nose, that she just put off again, but she immediately put it back to the floor. She didn’t want to breathe in the oxygen. It made her feel lightheaded and nauseous and gave her a headache.
“(Y/N)! Damn, breathe properly now the baby’s not comfortable anymore. Buck, I think you should go now and let her breathe a bit without the stress, this conversation puts on her.”
“No, he won’t go now! Not until this conversation is finished!” (Y/N) glared at Eddie. She wasn’t sure if that were the pregnancy hormones speaking out of her which have made her a bit temperamental these last few months.
“What do you want to do now? Buck? Do you have a girlfriend? Do you want to be a part in the baby’s life? Do you want to be part in MY life? I need to know it.” She could feel tears welling up in her eyes. Definitely the hormones which made her act strange at the moment.
“I don’t know exactly what I want to do now. But I don’t have a girlfriend. And I want to be part of the baby’s life. I want to be their father…”
“Her. It’s a girlie. Again.” (Y/N) could see Evan smiling a bit.
“Ok. I want to be HER father and spend time with her. And I think I would like to try to go on a date… with you. If you think you are ready. I liked you the last time we met, even though that could be because I had been really drunk that night.” Buck laughed and blushed a bit.
“I think… I think we can give it a try. I don’t know if I am ready for everything. But I do know I am ready for something. And maybe that could be with you.”
“Ok… uhm… great. And now you should really try to breathe properly with that mask. I know it’s not great, but even I can recognize how high your vitals are.”
She did as she was told. (Y/N) knew she liked Buck. He was cute. She wouldn’t have imagined to see a man like him blushing when talking about a baby and dating.
“I’m nauseous.” Eddie and Buck both looked a bit worried.
“Deep breaths. I think it’s just the IV and oxygen. I put some meds in the IV that should help with the belly cramps, that could make you feel nauseous.”
(Y/N) only nodded. She suddenly felt exhausted. The adrenaline of the day started to wear of.
“I think I’m gonna drive the kids home and we are going to relax a bit while watching some tv. Thank you for everything.”
“Wait. Stop. I won’t let you drive home alone. You don’t feel good and I wouldn’t like to know you don’t have anyone with you except you kids.” She nodded again. Evan was right. It would be stupid to not have anyone around her.
“I can come with you. Just if that’s ok with you.”
“Yes. That would be great. Thanks.”
“No problem. Shall we take your car?”
“Mhm.” She was thankful. She could really imagine Buck as a boyfriend. He is great.
---
“That doesn’t make any sense.” Evan laughed. He, (Y/N) and Liv were sat on the couch, watching a firefighter show, (Y/N) and Liv had been addicted to in the last few weeks.
“It doesn’t matter! This show is great!” Liv and Evan discussed about the mistakes in the show since around 10 minutes and it made (Y/N) smile. It was like a real family. Even though it hurt her a bit that it wasn’t Henry, sitting here. But let’s be honest: Henry would have never watched a show like that.
“That doesn’t change the fact, that you don’t use the saw like that. It’s just not safe!”
“Then just do not pay attention to the details.” Now, it was Liv laughing. (Y/N) hasn’t seen her daughter that happy in the last few months. She tried to cover up her emotions but it didn’t work completely. Her eyes started to burn and she felt a pressure building up. No, she wasn’t going to cry. Not in front of Evan. Her daughter. No.
“I’ll go to toilet for a moment.” She hoped nobody would notice she was about to cry, but her voice gave it away. She sounded hoarse and her voice broke at some point.
She locked the bathroom door and sank down to the cold floor, where she curled up, leaning her back on the even colder wall. Her hand was rubbing circles over her swollen belly. Damn it.
(Y/N) knew she missed Henry. She knew her kids have missed him every second since his death. But she was scared. Scared that moving on with Evan would make her forget her late husband. She heard a gentle knock on the wooden bathroom door.
“May I come in?” Buck.
“Ok.” Her voice sounded hoarse. She attempted to brush the tears away but it really didn’t work. Her eyes were still read, as well as her cheeks.
She got up to unlock the door, for Buck to come in. After he stepped inside the room, he closed the door again. He sat down next to her, and (Y/N) leaned her head on his shoulder.
“What’s up?”, he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Nothing.” Evan shot her a look, that said more than a thousand words.
“This honestly doesn’t look like nothing.”
“I don’t want to forget Henry. And I am scared. I have never had a relationship before him. And I still have cramps. And I still don’t feel too good in general. And I am scared of giving birth alone. And I am scared of everything else in my life.” Buck looked at her with a concerned expression and immediately pulled her into a hug as (Y/N) began to cry again.
“Ok. So, we first go to hospital, because these cramps make me worried, and then we can figure everything else out, ok?” He pressed a sloppy kiss on (Y/N)’s forehead, and she nodded.
“Mhm. But you need to help me get up, the baby is in the way.”
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naomis-daydream · 5 months
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aftercare with abby <3
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summary: abby taking care of reader after an eventful evening together.
warnings: mentions of sex, descriptions of nudity. no outbreak/modern!au. short n sweet fluff <33
a/n: my first abby work ahhh. i love my big sexy gf!! pic cred: hyujies on pinterest
don’t stop talking about palestine
tlou2 is based on the israeli occupation of palestine. don’t not purchase tlou-related products. i don’t mind making silly little fics abt silly little pixels but if ur interacting with my posts, know that i am in full support of palestine and palestinians
7:48pm.
abby glanced at the clock on her bedside table, reading the time quickly before turning her focus back to you. the setting sun painted the room in a beautiful orange hue, illuminating every corner. though the sunlight never looked more gorgeous than when it landed on you.
you were laid on your stomach, hands placed under your cheek as deep breaths escaped parted lips. and while the comforter was stretched over your hips, the skin of your back glowed, and abby swore she saw a sparkle dancing across your body. perhaps it was the sweat from the evening’s previous endeavors, or her eyes playing tricks on her, but then again her eyes always saw stars when it came to you.
you were absolutely ruined.
by the time she got done with you, your legs hardly had the energy to carry you to the bathroom. in fact the blonde had to do so herself.
“tired you out, huh pretty girl?” she’d tease, making you blush and bury your face in her neck as she carried you bridal style over the threshold and into the bathroom.
she carefully took a damp wash cloth to clean your inner thighs. “open up for me, baby.” the entire time you’re sleepily mumbling sweet nothings in her ear with a cheek on her shoulder.
“i love you so much abigail,” you’d whisper. to which she’d always reply, “i love you more.” no matter how much you tried to fight her on the subject, it was but a losing battle.
after getting cleaned up, you both had fallen asleep in each other’s arms, the soft beating of your girlfriend’s heart lulling you to sleep.
that was hours ago.
abby had woken up before you, rubbing her eyes and checking the time, seeing you both had been asleep for nearly two hours. usually, she’d wait for you to wake up so you’d decide together on what to eat. though, it was getting late, and most restaurants would be closing within the hour.
she could softly shake you awake or go grab something quick for the two of you, but if she’s learned anything in the past two years, it’s to never interrupt your beauty rest and don’t leave you alone while you’re asleep.
the taller girl ponders momentarily, though the growl of her stomach is what pushes her to climb out of bed, careful not to wake you.
she throws on a comfortable outfit, walking out the closet to give your forehead a quick kiss.
once she’s got to her car she sends a quick text in case you were to wake when she’s gone.
to my love: hey baby, just stepped out to grab dinner. be back soon ❤️
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lnfours · 1 year
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welcome home | l.n
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summary: he finally asks you to move in with him
warnings: fluff, fluff and more fluff. i need him so bad.
masterlist | ask box
₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊
the sun shining through the curtains is what woke lando up, the smell of your perfume engulfing him when he lazily threw the pillow from your the other side of the bed. he had tried to go back to sleep, but failed. so, he threw the covers off his legs with a soft sigh, getting up and looking around the room for any sign of you, but you weren’t there. only your things remained on the dresser, your clothes folded in a pile on the top.
when he walked into the bathroom, your toothbrush was sitting next to his in the cup, your face wash and hair brush on the counter next to your overflowing makeup bag. he didn’t mind the mess. actually, he liked when you left things around. it gave the other wise empty apartment life. it was like you were leaving your own personal touches throughout his home, and he couldn’t help but smile at every single one.
the towel you had used to shower that morning was sitting on the rack, still damp. your shampoo, conditioner and body wash sitting on the built in shelf. it pulled at his heartstrings to see it, how he wished the things would find a permanent place rather than a temporary one every few weeks.
as he brushed his teeth, he racked his brain trying to think of where you had gone, but remembered that you mentioned something about getting brunch with a few friends. he had hoped you were having fun, much needed ‘girl time’, but all he wanted to do was crawl back into bed with you and continue the show the two of you had started the weekend before.
despite his feelings, he finally wandered into the kitchen. he smiled softly at the coffee cup sitting in the sink, the white mug stained with your lipstick on the rim. he could picture you fixing your lipstick in the mirror before walking out the door in a hurry, because you were almost always running late.
he made himself a cup of coffee, sitting down on the couch and scrolling through his phone. he saw that you had posted on your instagram story about an hour ago, a picture of you and your friends in the mirror of the bathroom at the cafe downtown.
girls day <3
his heart almost leapt into his throat at how brightly you were smiling. he caught himself smiling back at the photo, your smile being too infectious. he couldn’t help himself as he slid up on the picture, typing back a response.
can i be invited next time? i’m one of the girls 😕
he watched as your icon appeared in the chat, your side illuminating with the ‘typing…’ in the lower corner.
i think the girls would disagree, hun. i’ll be home soon, and then i’m all yours 🤍
he smiled softly, double tapping the message.
deal. have fun, baby ❤️
you double tapped his message in return and he swiped out of instagram, checking his email. when it was done refreshing, only one had caught his eye. he placed his coffee down on the table in front of him as he turned his entire focus to reading the email.
dear mr. norris,
i’d like to congratulate you as your offer for the home on willow lane has been approved! i’ll be in contact soon to talk about settlement and move-in dates.
in all, congratulations on being a homeowner! look forward to speaking with you!
best wishes,
sam parker
keller prime realty
“no way, mate!” he laughed softly.
max had decided to come downstairs at that exact time, “you alright?”
he nodded at his friend, “remember that house i showed you? the one i said i was debating on putting an offer on?”
max nodded, “yeah, what about it?”
“well, i may or may not have put an offer on it,” lando continued, “and it may or may not have gotten approved.”
max smiled, patting his best friend’s shoulder, “congrats, mate. when do you and y/n move in?”
lando’s face fell and max rolled his eyes, “you haven’t asked her yet? you literally just bought the house and you still haven’t asked her?”
lando bit down on his bottom lip, “it’s not that i don’t want to, it’s just, i don’t know if she’s on the same page. i mean, she spends the weekends here, but whenever i wake up on sundays she’s normally about to leave.”
max shook his head, “or what if it’s because you never told her how much you like her staying here? i mean, sure we both know you love having her without saying anything, but maybe she just needs that reassurance.”
lando nodded, catching onto what his best mate was on about, “and i haven’t reassured her…”
“right,” max nodded, “now you get it.”
“so, what? i’m just supposed to be like ‘hey, i love having you here so much that i bought a house for us to move into, if you want’?” lando joked, taking a sip from his mug.
max rolled his eyes, “not exactly like that, you div.”
the door opened and you smiled as you kicked your heels off by the door, the two boys’ eyes landing on yours, “hey,”
“hey,” max smiled.
lando smiled at you as your feet padded against the hardwood floor heading towards the kitchen, your keys and purse hanging on the hooks by the door, “how was brunch?”
“good,” you nodded, placing the white takeout box on the shelf in the fridge, “they had really good matcha lattes, i think you would’ve liked it.”
lando hummed, “maybe we can go sometime soon.”
you nodded, plopping next to him on the couch, chin leaning on his shoulder, “sounds good, baby.”
lando smiled and leaned down to press a soft kiss to your lips. you smiled into the kiss as max groaned, which only made you pull lando closer by his hoodie. you laughed when max fake gagged and got up from his seat, the both of you breaking apart and laughing as he made his way back up the stairs, “yep, that’s enough. sick of you two swapping spit near me.”
“cheers, mate,” lando called back up the stairs before looking over at you. you smiled at the brunette.
“what?”
he shook his head, “just thinking.”
your eyes found the curl that had fallen out of place, your fingers moving to brush it back, “about what?”
“how much i love having you here,” he said and your lips turned into a smile, “i have someone to annoy max with now.”
you giggled, “that’s my favorite pastime and you know that.”
he smiled, nodding, “i do.”
there was a moment of silence before he spoke up again, “do you like coming here?”
you furrowed your eyebrows, “of course i do. what makes you ask?”
he took in a deep breath before looking back at you, “i bought a house.”
his words came out all of a sudden and you looked at him confused, “you… bought a house?”
he nodded, swallowing before he continued, “for us.”
your heart skipped a beat as he looked down at you, softly smiling, “i found the perfect house, and i put an offer on it and it was accepted. i know i should’ve told you, but, i really really want you to move in with me. like yesterday,”
you laughed softly as he smiled, “when did you put an offer on it?”
“a few weeks ago,” he said, “i know i should’ve told you, but when i say it’s perfect it’s literally perfect. everytime i look at it i just keep seeing you dancing around the kitchen or us watching a movie in the living room, i don’t know…”
you placed your hand on his cheek, “i love you,”
he smiled back, “i love you, too,” his nose brushed against yours, “will you please move in with me.”
you brushed through the curls on the nape of his neck, biting down on your bottom lip as you tried your best to hold back the smile threatening to breakout on your face, “since you asked so nicely.”
he snorted before kissing you sweetly, pulling you into his lap. you giggled as he held you close, your arms wrapping around his neck.
“do you have any pictures?” you smiled against his lips. he nodded, reaching between the two of you before fishing his phone from the pocket of his hoodie. you watched as he pulled the listing up on his phone, a smile on his face as he handed it to you.
as you scrolled through the pictures and smiled about all the little things he had thought you’d like about the house, all he could think about was what you would look like in a white dress.
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kopilot-pop · 10 months
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[Sofa] 18+
- Karina x G!P Reader
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Request: can we get some karina fluffxsmut.. 🫣 where g!p reader just wants to make her feel good after weeks of being busy.. haha ive had red velvet’s underwater on repeat and something abt the song just makes me want to snuggle w her but at the same time go ham on her 😥
Warnings: MDNI, g!p, praise kink, soft sex, overstimulation, creampie, size kink (if you squint), etc.
A/N: I am feral after writing dis. This is fluffy and filthy at the same time so read at your own risk <3
Word Count: 1,080
———————————————————————
“Jimin?”
It’s been seven days since you’ve last seen your girlfriend face-to-face. With her recent comeback, she was all over the country - sometimes even abroad. From stages to fashion shows, her schedule barely even gave her time to even text you.
That’s why after finishing the final stage for her comeback and the photoshoot for some magazine you forgot the name of, Jimin decided to crash at your apartment rather than her group’s house.
It was 3 a.m. when you jolt awake from your couch, hearing the doorlock beep.
Karina, no, Jimin stands there in a short black skirt, with your varsity jacket covering most of her body….
‘I should ask for that magazine’s name later.’
Before you could even greet Karina, you didn’t even get to meet her eyes when she immediately crashed into your arms.
“Woah-!”
“Hey baby…” She mumbled out.
Her long arms wrapped around you in a loose embrace, her tired body immediately starting to melt the moment she feels your warm body against her. After a few second of the embrace, you feel her legs slightly wobble and decide to move from the cold front door to the couch you were passed out on a few minutes ago.
“Here we go…”
With a huff you pick her up (she’s always light as a feather) and naturally Jimin wrap her legs around your waist.
You carried your tired girlfriend towards the couch and the moment you sit down, she snuggles into you deeper.
“Stooop..”
Jimin whines as you struggle to help take off the heavy jacket. Apparently, she doesn’t like it when her girlfriend pushes her away to help her be comfortable.
“Okay, okay you big baby..”
She’s still sitting on your lap when you finally push the large coat off her shoulders. And you finally get to meet her beautiful eyes after a long 168 hours.
Jimin has a prominent pout on her face, definitely not enjoying the fact that she wasn’t able to cuddle up into your body again.
‘God, she’s adorable.’
You’re unable to contain your smile when she manages to push your body back with her remaining strength.
“Stop moving.. I need you…”
At the same time, her whole body ‘unintentionally’ grinds into you.
‘Shit.’
Holding onto her hips - totally trying to keep her still, without any other intentions - you let out an awkward cough as Jimin’s chest touches yours.
‘WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU Y/N- Your girlfriend just came back from a full day of schedules. You can’t possibly get hard right n-’
“Hnngh..”
You let out a soft groan when Jimin slightly fidgets in your arms, letting out a moan.
“A..are you sleeping…?”
Karina lets out a incoherent mumble proving that she was awake, just barely.
“Alright.. How about we move to the bedroom? I’ll wake you up in the morn- ugh..”
Jimin - this time 100% intentionally - grinds her crotch into the (now prominent) bulge in your sweatpants.
“….what if I don’t wanna sleep?”
She slightly tilts her head from your shoulder to meet your eyes. Her soft gaze claws at your brain, making your cock stand up even more.
“W..well… I’m sure you’re tired.. a..and..”
“I missed you..”
Jimin tiredly straightens her back, pushing you slightly down the couch with her fingertips. You’re practically merged into the back cushions, only able to watch as she hooks her finger onto the hem of your boxers.
She pulls your garments down just enough to have you cock spring out. Before she could do anything, you push your hand up to pull her underwear down, leaving only the skirt to cover her dripping pussy.
You sit up, watching as she grabs onto your shoulders and slowly push herself down onto you.
“Mmf..”
She barely makes it pass the tip when she halts. Jimin once again pushes her body against you, shoving her face into your t-shirt.
“Does it feel good?”
With your hands still under her skirt, you grab her thighs and gently pull her down to fully take your cock. She always struggled to take your size, so you knew you had to be gentle.
When she finally managed to take you fully, she let out a loud groan. You pull her into a kiss as she grips onto your arms for support.
“C’mon, you’re such a good girl… You’re so fucking tight… Fuck…”
Jimin lets out another whine at your praise. You lick her bruised lower lip and she starts to lightly bounces up and down, loving the feeling of your hands guiding her.
“I- hngh-! I love you…”
As the younger girl bounces on your cock, you shove your hands up her sweater, pushing both the garment and her bra up - letting them rest right on top of her breasts. You gently lick her right peak, enjoying how she clenches down on you with every flick.
“I…I’m gonna come… Please let me come…!”
Her bounces become more frantic when you start biting and leaving marks all over her. You keep eye contact as you latch onto her left nipple, watching as tears start to form.
When Jimin feels your teeth lightly bite onto it, she comes undone.
She frantically pushes into your body again, gripping tightly onto your shirt as her pussy clenches around your throbbing member. Loud squelching sounds embarrassingly echo around the living room, as Jimin whimpers into your shoulder.
“Good girl…. You did so well baby.. Can you give me one more?”
“Wha.. wait..!”
Without listening to her answer, you jolt your hips up into her - this time a bit more roughly.
You don’t let your girlfriend control the pace as you tightly grip onto her waist - sure to leave bruises - and continuously slam her onto your cock.
“Ah-! I can’t!! Please- ugh-”
Jimin grabs onto your back, holding on for dear life as she helps you chase your orgasm. You grunt as you feel the younger girl spasm around your dick, feeling more liquid splatter onto your stomach.
“Y/nnn…!! I came- ah! Please…’”
“I’m almost there.. Fuck! I’m cumming..!”
With a final pump, Jimin smashes your lips together as she feels your cum completely fill her womb.
You can feel the mixture of you and Jimin drip onto her thighs, completely soaking the front of her skirt and your pants.
When she finally pulls aways her lips with a pop, you finally get a look of her tearful face.
“Mmf… I.. told you to… give me.. a second….”
“Sorry baby, didn’t hear ya..”
Jimin loudly smacks your shoulder.
———————————————————————
936 notes · View notes
kingkat12 · 7 days
Text
hickeys (roman godfrey x reader)
WARNINGS: 18+, mentions of sex, softcore-y smut, tw!bullying, Roman using his powers for no good, he's being so weird about virgin!reader, angsty fluff lol
summary: after having sacrificed your friendship with Letha for Roman's limited understanding of love and affection, you suddenly learn the consequences of your actions...
word count: 7,406 (you know me, not sorry anymore)
a/n: this is part 4 of my series seven minutes in heaven! click here to read; part 1, part 2, part 3! enjoy!!!<33
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Roman had a hickey right on the side of his throat. Thankfully, I knew who gave him that one-- me.
It dawned on me that I had never seen him with one before. Despite how easy it was for me to get lost in the feelings of joy, finding a sense of pride at being the only one allowed to do that to him, I remembered Roman hadn't always been open to these sorts of things. He had warmed up to it gradually, with everything starting as a small incident at my place a week ago.
We had been splayed out on my bed, my face buried in his chest as I took a casual mid-day nap on top of him. It had become a habit-- Roman would come over, we'd bicker about something, then make out for about an hour until he decided to take his smoke break on my balcony. But today was different; the both of us had just finished a rather hard math test, so we were absolutely spent by the time we hit my bed. Roman didn't even have the energy to smoke, and seeing how tired he was, I decided to be bold and cuddle up to him; however, I hadn't expected us to fall asleep like this.
Weirdly enough, he didn't resist my advances. He'd usually start feeling uncomfortable as he wasn't used to affection like this, but today, Roman had his arms around me as I laid with my head on top of his chest. I had been a little embarrassed to wake up to the sight of a tiny puddle of my drool on his sweater, and I tapped the spot with my fingers as though that would make it go away.
Roman awoke, groggy. He let out a low grunt as he raised his head, trying to get a look at what I was doing. "Is that what I think it is?--"
"No," My words barely came out louder than a whisper, now covering the spot with my palm as I looked up at him with a soft smile. "Did you sleep well?"
Roman, being the stubborn asshole he was, didn't even register my question. "Did you drool on me?"
Oh God, this was mortifying. I figured he'd find out anyway; I slowly removed my hand from the spot, sliding off him. "Sorry..." As I rolled over, my back against the bed, I could only sigh. Being Roman's unofficial official girlfriend was hard, especially now that I didn't have any friends to discuss it with. 
However, there were moments where the hardships were worth it. Moments like these ones, where Roman now flipped over and unexpectedly snuggled up to me, his face hiding in the crook of my neck. "I've never been drooled on like that before," he said, his words muffled in my hair. "This is my favourite sweater."
With wary movements, I brought one hand up to his brown locks, gently stroking through them. I wasn't sure what the next sound from Roman was, but the closest thing would be a purr. "I'm sorry," I mumbled, my other hand running up and down his broad back. "Want me to buy you a new one?"
Roman huffed; "Don't be stupid. I'll just leave it in the washer here if you don't mind," 
"The washer?" My hands froze, no longer ghosting over his skin with gentle touches. "It will dry up in a second, Roman, get yourself together. And even worse, I might get the urge to wear it if you leave it here." I immediately regretted that joke the second it slipped past my lips-- in hopes of brushing over it, scared he'd climb off me and go back to being his usual self, I resumed running my fingers through his hair and up his back.
To my surprise, Roman didn't react much. The only thing I could notice was a rather shaky breath against my neck, almost as though he had just had a really tempting thought. Eventually, he spoke; "It wouldn't fit you very well,"
I did my best to shrug, although that was hard to do with someone on top of me. "That's not the premise," I huffed. "People usually wear each others' stuff when they're into one another. It's a cute thing."
"... So you'd want me to leave my sweater here?" Roman eventually propped himself up on his elbows, meeting my gaze. "Why? It's not like you'd be able to wear it anywhere."
It was in moments like these that I realized how little Roman actually knew about girls. He was supposedly very good in bed, but with feelings and affection? He was like a very aggressive puppy with gorgeous fur-- some men you simply have to train to be soft. "I'd wear it at home," I said, reaching out to brush his messed up hair away from his green eyes. "Especially when it's stormy outside and I'm doing my homework."
Something about my words seemed to be leaving small cracks in Roman's shell-- had I not been so observant, I wouldn't have noticed the way his pupils dilated or the way his features softened as he looked at me. "Would it be a one-way thing?" he asked; was I imagining things, or did he sound shy? "You get my sweater, and I get..."  Roman propped himself up further, taking a quick glance around my room. It didn't take long before his eyes landed on the plain, black hair ties on my nightstand, and he wasted no time reaching for two in one go. "I get these."
Seeing him so serious about this exchange was too funny-- I couldn't help the giggle building in my chest, suppressing a rather obnoxious laugh. "Yeah, I think that's smart," I murmured, stroking my thumb over his cheek. "Your hair is getting a little long... Would probably make your life easier."
Roman rolled his eyes, huffing. "It's not exactly like you have anything else lying around here!"
There was no way in hell I was about to tell him that my room was this clean because I had predicted he'd come over. "Okay, but it still works," I reached for his hand, taking the ties into my palm before rolling them over his fingers, watching as the rubber bands now sat comfortably at his wrist. "There you go!" I exclaimed, beaming up at a rather perplexed Roman. "Sweater, please."
It took a few seconds for him to react-- his eyes fixated on the black rubber ties around his wrist, and before I knew it, I saw slivers of pink appearing on his cheeks. I had never seen him react to anything like this before, and I had no idea why Roman was suddenly unmistakably blushing. "Fuck," he breathed. "That's cute." 
To hide his blush, he quickly wried his sweater off his body, throwing it away on a chair nearby before burying his face in the crook of my neck again, putting his whole weight back on me. "Promise to use it for dirty stuff too," he grumbled, probably to save face, before pressing a kiss to my neck. 
I was happy Roman didn't see how brightly I was smiling-- I would've been told off immediately, and he'd most likely retract right back into his shell. It was unusual for him to accept any sort of affection, and I wondered whether he had let anyone this close before. The more I got to know Roman, the more he was sleepy and babbling around me, I realized that I had to gradually ease physical kindness into his life to make our weird whatever-ship work. 
The whatever-ship I had sacrificed everything for.
And I would've spiraled deeper into thoughts about it, but the sudden pressure I felt against my neck made me snap out of it-- I realized he was giving me a rather hefty hickey, a familiar tingling sensation coursing its way through my body. I let out a satisfied sigh, my fingers burying themselves deeper into Roman's hair as he moved elsewhere on my neck to make a second one. "These will go well with the sweater," he purred against my skin.
I held back a shiver-- The hate I had once felt for him had quickly turned into whatever this was. All I knew, was that it felt good enough to distract me from the guilt that kept gnawing at me after betraying Letha the way I did. 。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
The next day at school actually marked a month since the last time Letha and I had spoken on the bleachers. A month of staring at her longingly from afar like a kicked puppy and asking our mutual friends how she was. It didn't take long before they all heard what had happened between Roman and I, and they suddenly became Letha's friends only.
I didn't know how lonely I would be after I chose Roman, and it was slowly breaking my heart. Being blacklisted by nearly all the girls at school was tough, to say the least. 
So as I rummaged around my locker, getting ready for my next class, I didn't expect Letha to approach. There was no way I could imagine she'd do that, especially after the way she had been denying all my attempts of reconciliation. But here she was, blonde hair styled to perfection, and her green, stern eyes meeting mine the second I closed my locker door.
I stared right back, at a loss for words despite opening my mouth to speak. 
Letha cleared her throat, pressing her books tightly against her chest. "It's been a month," she tried, something about her softening with the weight of her words. "I think I might be ready to... talk."
My heart jumped up like never before, immediately thrown into a feeling of ecstatic victory. "What?" I squeaked, unable to stop my beaming look of joy. "Are you serious?" 
Letha shrugged, biting the inside of her cheek to suppress her smile. "I think it's time to try, at least?--" Her words came to a halt the second I turned to face her fully, and her green eyes immediately found my neck. 
My hair had moved to behind my shoulders as I turned around, revealing the hickeys I had tried my best to cover with setting powder and foundation. It didn't take long before Letha's softening look became one of horror as she took a step back, clearly repulsed.
I immediately went into panic, piecing it together. "No, Letha, wait!--"
There was no stopping Letha before she turned on her heel, bolting down the corridor with heavy steps. 
I turned back towards my locker, pressing my forehead against it. There was no way in hell I'd let everyone see me cry in public again. It felt as though Letha had dug her hand into my chest and ripped out my heart, now squeezing it until it finally popped. My breath hitched as I stepped away from the locker, sniffling as I felt a sob build.
Just as I was about to leave and get to class somehow, the familiar scent of cinnamon entered my system. "What did Letha want?" Roman asked, his hands tucked into his pockets as he approached. His brows were drawn together in a disapproving look as he watched Letha disappear down the hallway in unmatched hurry, and I got a good glance at him when I finally turned around to face him. How long had he been watching me from afar?
Roman's glare quickly faded away when his attention shifted and he noticed the way my eyes had glossed over. His whole tough look disappeared within a sliver of a second, and I was unsure whether he noticed it himself. "... Nothing good, I see?"
I shied away from his gaze, my eyes darting down to my shoes. "She wanted to make up all until she saw... well," To demonstrate, I turned a little, showing Roman the once blank canvas which was now covered in about six hickeys that I counted last night. It was clear to me that my attempt at hiding them had failed.
Roman could only sigh, an infuriating grin now spreading across his face. "I'm going to say sorry now, but know that I don't fully mean it because... the sight of you like this is so damn hot," He leaned down, pressing his lips against my forehead as he took my face into his hands. I couldn't help but notice that he was still wearing my two black rubber bands just as my breath hitched at the loving gesture.
Something about the kiss made my heart skip, but another part was ripping at me; Roman clearly cared more about the fact that he had marked me than how upset I was. I hummed in response, not knowing what else to say before much later; "Don't do that,"
"Do what?"
"Don't kiss me like that," I mumbled, pressing my back against my locker to make as much space between us as possible. "Just... Don't." 
Roman's first reaction was on display with a stunned expression, up until his brows drew together in what I could only read as annoyance. "Fine," he said, teeth gritted. His hands fell down at his sides, trying to save face as he took a step away from me; "I'm just trying to make you feel a little better, it's not that fucking deep." In true Godfrey fashion, he also proceeded to storm down the hallway, clearly flustered after being shut down.
I had to take a long breath-- this was a lot to take in for one day. Roman being in denial about his feelings also didn't help much. I wanted to run after him, grab his hand and tell him that he could do absolutely whatever he wanted with me, that I'd love for him to kiss me like that once more, but I knew I couldn't.
It was hard to believe how badly I had fallen for a guy who could barely regulate his own feelings. Someone who insisted on making it apparent to everyone that I was his without actually wanting to put a name to it. I let out a sigh, watching Roman get further and further away. Something told me I maybe should've followed him, at least asked him whether he wanted to come to my place later and sleep next to each other, but my plans quickly fell apart when I witnessed the one thing I hated seeing most in the world.
In the midst of his angry storm-off, Roman managed to turn his head to allow for his eyes to follow a girl with an exceptionally short skirt passing him by. 
I wanted to throw up-- the hungry look in his eyes made me nauseous. Everything about Roman looking at someone in the way he usually looked at me made me want to burst into tears all over again. 
No matter what I felt for him, one thing would never change; I hated Roman Godfrey. I hated him and the way he made me feel like a stomped bug. Hated the way he'd look at me after he'd make me cum around his fingers, the way he'd stroke my hair away from my forehead with the gentlest touch as I fell asleep, and the way he'd insist on driving me everywhere just to spend some extra time together.
I hated him. I hated this feeling, and especially what it had done to me, my friendships, and my reputation.
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
... Thoughts of my reputation went out the window now that Roman was back in my bed. Nothing suggestive, of course-- he was currently half asleep next to me. Even more heartwarming, was the fact that he still wore my two hair ties around his wrist, and I could get a proper look at him now that he was resting. I loved this feeling; we were both wearing the items we had exchanged.
"It looks good on you," he mumbled, tugging me closer with the arm he had around me. "My sweater. I thought I would hate seeing you in it, but it's not so bad."
My body was halfway on top of his, and I couldn't help but giggle as he pressed me closer to his chest. "Why did you think you'd hate it?" I adored the feeling of being completely engulfed in Roman-- the lingering scent of his perfume stuck to the gigantic sweater I was in, and his big arms around me made all my pain feel worth it. 
All up until Roman hummed, eyes still closed as his hands raked through my hair; "You wearing my stuff makes it real... Like you're mine. I don't know whether I want that responsibility,"
I could only sigh, unsure whether I should let my heart sink just yet. Sometimes, it was best to dig around in Roman's mud of a brain before settling for the version he wanted me to believe. "So you would be okay if I was with someone else?"
Roman opened one eye, glancing down at me as he raised a brow. "Are you with someone else?"
"... No,"
"Would you want to be?"
What an odd question; one he didn't need to know the truth of. "Would you care if I did?"
Roman opened his second eye, now scouring my face to check for cracks in my facade. Something told me he wasn't buying it, but that he wasn't about to take any chances. Eventually, he scoffed, rolling his eyes before closing them again; "Fuck off,"
"Fuck off yourself," I mumbled, burying my face in the crook of his neck. I tried to dull out the fact that his arm automatically wrapped itself tighter around me before I spoke once more; "Answer the question."
"Why?" Roman shifted, pulling my whole body on top of his, letting out a satisfied sigh now that all of my weight was laid on him. "It's a stupid question. Why can't we just enjoy this moment?"
He had a point, sure-- I just didn't deem it enough. "I hope you remember that I have a lot on the line here," I placed my hands next to his head, pushing myself up to get a proper look at him. Roman eventually opened his big, green eyes, and they quickly rounded out as they met mine. Everything about looking into his eyes made me want to squeal and pepper him with kisses; this was dangerous territory. I knew had to pull myself together; "I have, like... zero friends because of this. Because I chose you. And you not wanting to take on that responsibility or whatever it was that you called it, makes me feel like crap. You make me feel like crap." 
It was clear that Roman was holding his breath without thinking about it. He stared up at me, unsure what to say; "... All the time?"
"What?"
"Do I make you feel like crap all the time?"
That was certainly a way to spin it-- taken aback, I furrowed my brows as I pondered the question. "Not... all the time, no,"
Roman hummed; he seemed content with that answer. "I know you're upset about the whole Letha thing," he said, his big hands traveling down to grab at my hips as he shifted me to sit in his lap. "I also see that I'm not exactly helping the situation, but... you can't keep blaming me for your decision."
"... Okay," His request was simple enough-- I was ready to adhere to his wishes. "But then you have to say it out loud."
"Say what?"
"That you like me,"
I watched as Roman's eyes widened, his grip on my hips tightening. His whole body tensed up, unsure whether to speak or not. It was clear that he was conflicted about how to tread forward, and I held my breath the second his plush lips parted. Roman sat up, his back now supported by my headboard. Like this, I was sat in his lap with my arms draped around his neck, and he connected our foreheads with a sigh. Roman's words eventually came out like a slow, warm whisper; "I don't know what I feel," 
It felt as though my heart had lodged itself into my throat-- what? I was about to start arguing with him, cursing him out for dragging me through the mud for nothing, all until Roman suddenly reached for my hand. He placed my palm over his heart, his eyes finding mine as he steadied his breathing. "I don't know what I feel," he echoed. "But I know that looking at you makes my heart beat faster. Feel how hard it's going?" He pressed my hand further up against his chest, something about his touch giving away the sincere nature of this gesture. I hadn't seen Roman doing anything this romantic before, and everything was practically perfect all up until he opened his dumb teenage mouth; "I'm serious. It usually only beats like this when I look at pictures of Sydney Sweeney in a swimsuit."
That's it-- I groaned and ripped my hand out of his grip. "Okay, that's enough. You need to leave, it's almost midnight," In an attempt to climb off him, I almost made it out of his lap before his hands grabbed my hips once more, forcing me back down as I yelped. My eyes widened as they met Roman's, watching his signature smirk spread across his lips. 
"Where do you think you're going in my sweater?" he purred, suppressing a chuckle. "My sweater, my rules. Give me a kiss before I leave, at least."
I huffed as I snaked my arms around his neck, feeling his hot breath against my lips. "And why should I kiss you?"
"Because you want to?" Roman didn't care to try to suppress his grin, gently nudging my nose with his as his grip on my waist tightened. His voice dropped, getting airy as he whispered against my lips; "You want to so bad."
Everything about him made the butterflies in my stomach flutter-- it didn't help that his hair was tousled in a classic heartbreaker look, along with how ridiculously soft his lips suddenly looked. 
Roman definitely noticed the reddening of my cheeks, concluding why I had gone mute. "Don't be like that," he teased, not doing a good job with hiding his amusement. "Just kiss me first, for once. Have you noticed that you never initiate anything?"
I held my breath-- "I just... don't know what I'm doing," My confession was unexpected, but it felt nice to get it off my chest. "I don't want you to think I'm clueless."
"But you are?" Roman's chuckle was one of mischief as his hands shamelessly trailed down my body, now grabbing my ass as he pushed me closer to him. "It's not a bad thing. Just means I can program you to my liking."
I didn't even act as though I wanted his hands off of me, giving in to his antics. Something about the way he was holding me made me feel awfully warm-- maybe it was time to take off the sweater? "Tell me what you like, then," I purred, putting my hands on his chest. I figured that if I had gone down this route, I'd continue my path with conviction. 
Roman's smirk only grew, letting out a breathy laugh against my lips as he gave my ass a firm squeeze. "That's my girl," he cooed. "We'll start simple." He nudged his nose against mine once more, his lips parting before his words came out in a hot whisper against mine; "Kiss me."
His words were too alluring to deny-- I leaned forward, my hands carefully laying against his broad shoulder as I kissed him. A sigh of satisfaction escaped Roman, who immediately dug his hands into the flesh of my behind to tug me closer. Everything about the way he was reacting to me reminded me of our first date, and the way he had held and kissed me in the alley when we were hiding from Letha. 
The kiss was slow, almost lazy; something about the moonlight hitting us was making it more intense. It mostly consisted of small, loving pecks, and many pauses to simply smile against one another. I wondered whether he had ever kissed anyone like this before, with a softness I didn't see in him very often. 
It was hard to believe that this was the same guy that had me running around scared for him to prick me with needles. The only thing pricking me right now was the hardening of Roman's cock beneath me. With every twitch, every time his hands dug into my hips in an attempt to grind me against him, I could only grin into the kiss. There wasn't exactly anything sexual about this kiss, but he would always get hard from the smallest little things-- I couldn't help but find pride in it. At least this was another confirmation that he wanted me.
Roman eventually grew frustrated, now trying to rut up against me just for any sort of friction. With that, I grabbed the headboard, raising myself with my knees so that he wouldn't succeed. As he groaned, I had to bite down on my growing smile; the look on his gorgeous face was too damn thrilling.
Roman's eyes were round, his chest sinking with a shaky exhale as a rosy flush lingered in his cheeks. "Anything," he breathed. "Just give me anything. I'll take it."
"Anything?" I wasn't quite sure what he was getting at; "What do you mean?"
His hands grabbed at my waist, signalizing that he wanted me to sit down on his arousal once more-- perhaps that felt like a relief in itself? Roman stared up at me through his brows, his fingers digging into my flesh. "I'm not asking you for sex. I'm being nice. So I'm saying I'll take anything you'll give me... Even the smallest thing," He leaned forward, pressing a wet kiss against my neck which had me losing my breath within seconds, now whispering against my skin; "Just touch me." Roman's needy kisses trailed up my neck, jaw, and cheeks until his breath was hot against my ear. "However you want. Don't be shy, try it out."
Something told me that Roman was secretly into me being a virgin, after all this time of making fun of me for it. However, I wasn't about to say no to the opportunity to explore with the Roman Godfrey, and I eventually sat back down on his arousal, my cheeks flushing a deeper shade of red at the sound of his muffled grunt. 
My hands went up into his soft hair, pressing a kiss against his temple as my fingers stroked through his locks. "There's one thing I might want to try..."
Roman turned to nip at my jaw, his hands traveling back down to my ass. "Go for it,"
I didn't want to give him time to change his mind; my hand in his hair tightened, pulling him away from me with an unexpected roughness. I was about to apologize until I noticed the way Roman closed his eyes, and the way his lips parted in what looked like pleasure. It suddenly dawned on me that he might be the type to like a little pain, not only cause it. However, I wasn't ready to explore that at the moment-- I had another thought to attend to. 
Roman's head lolled back against the headboard as I leaned down to kiss his neck, and it was clear to me that he was enjoying himself. It was only when his fingers dug themselves back into the flesh of my behind that I got the confidence to pull through with my original plan; I sucked down on a particular spot, hard enough to leave a mark.
I didn't need to see his face to know that Roman's eyes were wide open with the realization of what was happening. I was ready for him to push me away, tell me off, tell me to stop-- but his arms only wrapped around me, pulling me closer in a swift motion that had me grinding up against his hard cock, and Roman let out a sigh of pleasure as he let himself be marked with a blooming hickey. 
Something told me I had to be somewhat special for him to allow me to do such a thing, and it quickly dawned on me that I had never felt this happy with anyone before, despite his shortcomings. 
I liked Roman more than I had ever liked anyone before, and I had an inkling that he felt the same. Who knew something so simple could feel so incredibly good?
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
Knowing I had Roman wrapped around my finger, despite him not being able to properly say it out loud, had me floating around in my own little bubble. Everything concerning Letha suddenly felt irrelevant, and it wasn't taking up as much space in my mind as before. All I could think about was the way Roman had smiled at me as he passed me in the hall, the red hickey on the side of his neck peeking out past his shirt. The cherry on top of it were the two hair ties he still wore around his wrist-- he was enjoying this, wasn't he?
However, I was yanked back into the absolute shitshow I had caused for myself concerning my girlfriends later that same day.
My previous friends had never done anything more than glare at me from across the hall. Maybe the occasional overdramatic huff when they passed me, an extra eye-roll my way, and so I did my best to not pay it any mind. 
Which is why I was so shocked when the proceeding followed. 
It didn't bother me to sit alone at lunch-- not anymore, at least. I wasn't about to reach out to Roman to ask where he was and whether I could join him either; but just as I picked up my phone, ready put away my nerves and text him, my gaze was diverted from the screen and to the three girls that sat down in front of me.
I held my breath, my eyes widening with the realization that my previous best friends were staring at me with the nastiest looks I had probably ever seen.
Oh no.
Breathing deeply, I did my best to harden my gaze and keep my guard up. "What do you want, Jasmine?" I asked, putting my phone down on the table as I stared down the girl in the middle. Jasmine was the one I had liked the least in our friend group, and I wasn't surprised that she was the one to take action-- the rest of the girls always followed her like dogs, and it had always made me sick; especially now that they were sititng by her like docile animals.
Jasmine cleared her throat, leaning further over the table in an attempt to intimidate me; "We're just here to make you aware of something,"
"Which is...?"
Taken aback by my lack of reaction, Jasmine's eye twitched just slightly as the girls next to her grew more and more uncomfortable. "Letha told me what she saw on your neck this morning. And sitting this close to you, I see it too... Do you not understand how it makes you look?"
There was no way for me to hold back my sarcasm; "How does it make me look? Do indulge, Jas," I couldn't even hold back my grimace at this point. "Why does it even matter to you?"
Jasmine's eye twitched once more, and she slammed her hands against the table with a loud thud. "What upsets Letha, upsets me! I'm just glad I found out what kind of person you truly are, and it brings me immense joy to realize everyone is starting to catch on to the truth as well!"
Despite how hard I attempted to stay neutral, unaffected, and unfazed, I couldn't do anything about the way my heart sunk. I couldn't even muster up anything to counter Jasmine's words, taken aback by the bluntness of my previous friend.
"Letha really wanted to reconcile, do you know that?" Jasmine continued, an evil snicker building in her throat. "But it's fucking disgusting that you walk around like you're proud to be fucking Roman Godfrey, especially when you know how much you've hurt her. Fucking traitor!"
Before I could protest, she reached for my phone which I had left unattended. There was barely any time to pry it out of Jasmine's hands before she stood up and smashed it into the table, the rest of her posse scurrying away from the table before the pieces of glass could hit them. I didn't have to look to know that the whole cafeteria was watching this scene play out; it was only when I heard gasps coming from around us that I truly realized the extent of what had happened.
As the glass from my phone had bounced off the table, the sharp pieces flying in every direction, I had covered my face with my hands. So, when I slowly pried them away from my eyes, turning them around to identify where the stinging of my skin was coming from, my eyes fell on the three pieces of glass lodged into the back of my hands. It wasn't too deep, not enough to scar or cause real damage, but damn-- it burned like crazy. 
With tears in my eyes, I watched as Jasmine snickered, clearly unaffected by the fact that she had caused me physical harm; "We're ready to make your life a living hell," she hissed. "That'll show you. Fucking whore."
Something inside me broke. Usually, I would've fought back, I would've said something-- but I froze. Completely. I had never felt anything like this, the mix of both physical and mental pain turning me to stone.
Fuck. Was this truly how everyone saw me? Nothing more than one of Roman's countless whores?
I knew this would haunt me for the following weeks to come, and I couldn't fight the way my mind shut down. The need to get away overcame me; with shaky steps, I got up from my table, realizing I was about to leave school despite the day not being finished. 
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
I had avoided Roman like the plague for the rest of the day-- I was almost as broken as my phone. I held the pieces in my hands under the dim lights of my desk in my room, nudging the glass around on the table. My phone had completely shattered, now just a heap of technology I held onto for the sake of nostalgia in a deep state of shock.
I kept glancing at my hands, my fingers ghosting over the three thin cuts that had parted my skin. They were thankfully not that grotesque to look at, and I was quite sure I could play it off as a scratch from a particularly large cat if anyone asked. 
Or... so I hoped. 
I wondered whether Letha knew about what had happened. Did she condone it? Had she been the one who ordered Jasmine and her gang to mess with me? Everything about this situation made my head spin-- Choosing Roman might've been the wrong decision. I kept thinking about an alternative universe in which I had never asked him to kiss me in the first place, or one where I had told Letha about my feelings for her cousin before it was too late.
It dawned on me that I had mostly likely made the wrong choice-- how was I supposed to deal with this?
Just as I was about to toss the remnants of my phone into the nearby bin, I heard a few knocks at my window which made me turn towards the sound. There he was, the last rays of today's sunlight making the bronze hues in his hair shine through; Roman tapped against the glass once more, eyes round with an emotion I couldn't piece together from afar.
I walked towards the window and opened it, leaning against the frame as I spoke; "What are you doing here?" My tone was sharper than expected-- seeing him didn't exactly make me feel any better.
"You haven't answered my messages," Roman didn't seem to be in a hurry about getting off my roof, making himself comfortable by sitting down by the window. "All day. Radio silence. I'm not really used to that from you, so... just checking to see whether you're having a stroke or something."
I did my best not to roll my eyes; "A stroke?"
"I don't know?" Roman shrugged, his green eyes never leaving mine. "What other explanation is there for a girl not answering me?"
I grimaced as I watched his expression. It was impossible to push down the intense feelings of frustration when I looked at him, all my love for him manifesting back to its usual hate-- I wouldn't have been in this situation if I hadn't met him. This was technically just as much his fault as mine. 
Why did he look so confused? It suddenly hit me that he was being dead serious; he didn't get it at all. He genuinely couldn't find another reason for my absence. "Oh," was what I managed to say, clearing my throat as I sat down on the window sill. "Have you not heard?" 
Roman blinked twice, clearly lost as he looked up at me. "Heard what?"
My eyes darted down to my hands, which I had covered with the sleeves of Roman's sweater without even thinking about it. "I thought everyone would be talking about it," I mumbled. "I guess that's a relief, then."
"What are you talking about?" The green of his eyes nearly swallowed me, and I found a tiny trace of genuine concern behind them, so miniscule I could barely notice it. "What happened?"
I wanted to disappear into a heap of nothing; it was so embarrassing that I had let this happen. My pride was definitely trying to choke the life out of me. "My phone broke," I breathed, automatically reaching for the hem of the sweatshirt out of nervous habit-- I felt my cheeks flush, nervous to be revisiting the moment that had haunted me all day.
Roman's brows furrowed, unsure how to react; "You made it sound like something really bad had happened. I could buy you a new one, no problem," He watched me pick at the sweatshirt, now reaching out for my hands to stop my destructive fidgeting.
I let out the breath I had been holding the second our fingers intertwined, feeling the roughness of his hands against mine. My eyes rested on the black hair ties he still wore around his wrist, a blooming warmth igniting in my chest and wading through all my anger. I was so swept up in the moment, comforted by the way he squeezed my hands twice, that I didn't catch the moment the sleeves of the sweater bunched up and revealed the cuts on the back of my hands. "You don't need to buy me a new phone, don't be ridiculous," I said, watching a single strand of his brown hair slowly fall over his eyes as he glanced down. "I'd feel bad--"
"What's this?" Roman's grip around my hands tightened, now bringing them up to his face. 
It felt as though my breath had gotten lodged in my throat as I watched Roman's widening green eyes scan the surface of my hands. His brows drew together once more, thumbs swiping over the unhealed wounds. The touch made me hiss, attempting to get out of his grip, but to no avail. "It's the neighbour's cat," I tried. "I bent down to pet it, and--"
"This is not from a cat," Roman's gaze darted up to meet mine, suddenly a lot more intense than usual. "I'll ask you again, what happened?"
I tried to squirm out of his hold once more; "It's not important, Roman... Forget it, please. Actually, I'm going to have to ask you to leave--"
"Tell me,"
"No, seriously, drop it! Can't you just go?!--"
Roman's grip around my hands tightened further, almost to the point of making me wince. "Tell me," His pupils widened at an eerie rate, transfixed on mine. It felt as though his words were echoing through my head, and it didn't take long before I suddenly felt as though my inner monologue froze over.
And before I knew it, my mouth had a mind of its own; "They broke my phone,"
"Who?"
I really, really tried to fight it. Getting Roman involved in this drama was certainly not ideal, and I did my best to push away the urge to tell him; why was it so strong, all of a sudden? It almost felt as though he was controlling my mind, but it was ridiculous to even think so-- that was obviously impossible. Right? 
I eventually got around to answering; "Jasmine," 
"... Who?" Roman was beginning to sound like a really confused owl.
"Jasmine," I echoed. "Letha's friend. She brought a few girls over to my table and smashed my phone. Called me a whore."
Roman was silent for a few seconds, his face going unnaturally blank. "These cuts are from your phone?"
"Yeah,"
"And she did it because you're with me?"
"... Yeah," Did he just insinuate that we were together? I held my breath, unsure why my mouth wasn't adhering to my orders-- I so desperately wanted to point it out, but I physically couldn't. What on earth was happening?
Roman hummed, his grip around my hands loosening. "What else did she say?"
I blinked several times in an attempt to get out of the trance-like state I found myself in, but nothing seemed to be working as long as Roman's gaze was locked on me. "She said she's gonna make my life a living hell," As I sniffled, I realized tears were pooling in my eyes. I squeezed them shut, shaking my head to try to snap out of it once more. "I- It's fine, though." It dawned on me that the trick was to not look at him-- I finally started feeling like myself again. "I just need to talk to Letha and check out the options for a truce, or whatever."
As I dared to open my eyes, I watched his blank face. Something about the lack of reaction was unsettling, on the border of uncomfortable, and it almost made me want to squirm. It was in this silence that a thick, red drop of blood suddenly made its way down Roman's nose, and he didn't react when it met his lips. It was almost as though he had frozen to his place on my roof, and I couldn't remember the last time he had blinked.
My eyes widened, concern filling my body. "You're bleeding," I breathed, trying to get my hands out of his. "Let me get something for you, Roman, it's gonna run down to your shirt!--"
Abruptly, he got up with a quickness I hadn't seen in him before, still not saying a word. Suddenly, I couldn't help but notice it-- the hickey on the right side of his throat. One he wasn't even trying to cover up. Despite how much Roman kept denying wanting to be with me, here he was, getting up to do God knows what whilst quite literally baring my mark on his skin.
I watched him, my brows drawing together in complete and utter confusion. "Roman?" Calling out his name didn't seem to do anything; he let the stream of blood run down his chin, now dripping down onto his shirt. I could only look up at him, unsure why he was acting like this.
Finally, Roman spoke; "Living hell, you say?" His voice was low, threatening-- it was suddenly clear to me that he had gotten a very dark idea.
These sorts of proclamations coming from a guy who had an affinity for pricking girls with needles genuinely concerned me. I got up from the window sill, ready to climb out onto the roof to join him. "Come on, Roman, let's just talk!--"
It was as though he was on auto-control, rushing to the edge of the roof before turning around to climb down. My heart beat hard in my chest as I nearly lunged out of my window, hoping to reach him in time. "Hey, where are you going?!" 
I didn't make it-- Roman had already managed to land on the grass beneath him, his long limbs an apparent advantage, and he was now storming down my lawn towards his car. 
"Roman!" I yelled, crouching down on the edge of my roof; this was definitely not looking good. My mind kept racing as I gave up trying to catch up to him, burying my face in my hands. 
I was screwed. I was so screwed. 
(a/n: check out part 1, part 2, and part 3 if you haven't!! thank you for reading, more to come!!<33)
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munsonsreputation · 6 months
Note
I should hate you was so good I feel like screaming omg I am OBSESSED WITH YOUR FICS !!!'!!!!
THE MORNING AFTER
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anon, it's your lucky day!!! im a total idiot that forgot to include the morning after scene...so here ya go!!! if you want to read part one, check it out here <3
steve harrington x fem!reader
warnings: enemies to lovers, cursing, mentions of sex, overall fluff and humor hehehe
summary: eddie and jonathan catch you and steve in a pretty awkward position, too bad they saw it coming and all they really want to do is figure out who's the winner of their stupid little bet -- you and steve just want to take each other in...and steve wants to hear you call him 'baby' again and again.
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The sun had risen nearly an hour ago, the cold air just barely dissipating with the warmth of the present rays, but the sun wasn’t the only one greeting you with good morning. Jonathan and Eddie remained outside Steve’s tent, ogling at the sight of you and Steve laying not just in the same vicinity, but literally in each other’s arms.
“They didn’t sleep together, Ed—” Jonathan attempted to reason, getting cut short by Eddie of course.
The metal head tsked his tongue noisily, glaring, “How’re you gonna say that when she’s wearing his t-shirt and her shorts are over there in the corner?” He pointed to the garments that looked to be thrown around in a haste.
A sexual haste, that is.
Jonathan shrugged, swallowing thickly, “M-maybe she got cold and–”
“You’re telling me someone who got cold in the middle of the night just decided to put on a big ole t-shirt but completely strip off her pants?” Eddie cackled loudly, nudging his shoulder, “Now you’ve got to either be the stupidest—”
Steve roused awake, eyes stretching themselves open to figure out that the hell all the bickering was about especially so early in the morning. It only took him a few seconds to realize that his tent was unzipped, his two friends staring at him like nothing strange was going on.
“What the fuck, guys!” Steve broke before immediately sealing his mouth shut, realizing that you were still fast asleep beside him, literally clinging to his torso.
Jonathan waved him off, gesturing out to calm Steve down, “Chill dude, your dick isn’t out or anything, but even if it was, it’s nothing we haven’t seen before.”
Eddie smirked, eyes flashing to your figure that was only half covered with the blanket due to your tossing and turning during the night.
“We can however see her ass cheeks hanging ou—”
Steve’s eyes grew, drawing down to your body that had kicked off some of the blanket during your sleep. The lace of your underwear peeking out along with some skin that was only supposed to be for Steve’s eyes. He quickly draped most of the blanket over the exposed skin, hoping they didn’t see too much of you.
“Get the fuck out!” He hissed sharply, pointing at his friends hoping they would just listen to him for once.
But alas, the commotion had interrupted your dream, groaning as you rubbed at your eyes and wiggled under the covers.
“What’s going on?” You mumbled before yawning out.
“Good morning!” Eddie started enthusiastically, clapping his hands together to fully get you awake and then Jonathan spoke up.
“Mind telling us if you guys just ended up making out last night or if you went all the way, cause we kinda made a bet and now we need to figure out who owes who what.”
Your eyes widened, neck snapping up at them as Steve whispered a curt apology that fell on your deaf ears. The last thing you wanted was for any of your friends to find you this way, not that it was embarrassing to be seen in such a state with Steve… you just didn’t want them to find out like this.
Obviously, that plan failed horribly.
“You guys clearly lack personal space and privacy don’t you?” You glared, pulling the covers up to your collarbones attempting to hide like that would make them forget the scene in front of them.
Eddie beamed like a prick he was crossing his arms over his chest. “Just answer the question, sweetheart.”
“Here’s my answer… fuck off!” You flipped them the bird, having enough of their teasing as you stretched up to push them away and zip the tent shut before you fell back into the pillow.
Steve couldn’t help but snort, shaking his head at the voices that quieted in the distance, his two friends still arguing over the stupid bet.
“I think you found two new people to take your anger out on,” Steve snickered, folding his arms across your hips and nuzzling his face into your neck.
You sighed, craning your neck out to give Steve more room to place random kisses across your skin, something you didn’t know you were missing out on for so long. For your first morning waking up beside Steve, he sure did know how to make you want more.
“Jonathans too nice and Eddie’s just an idiot sometimes.” You answered with the roll of your eyes that he didn’t see.
“So am I still your most hated?” He teased, poking at your ribcage making your jolt and you smacked his chest.
He came out of hiding, head tilting up at you to hear your answer. “You should be…” you bit your lip, “but I’m afraid you’re actually gonna be my new favorite.”
“Already?” He wiggled his brows with a smirk, shoulders shimmying under the covers in some sort of lame victory dance.
“Don’t flatter yourself, Harrington.” You retorted, poking his cheek.
He pouted, taking your hand in his, “No c’mon, call me that other name…” He insisted, or more like whined, kissing your knuckles with a self indulgent smile on his face.
“Baby,” you murmured, giving into him with the smile gently taking over your features, “Don’t flatter yourself, baby.”
He grinned, holding your cheeks in his palms, kissing you softly, “I’ll try not to. No promises, though.”
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💌 reblogs, tags, comments, + likes are greatly appreciated! leave a comment and let me know if want to be added to my taglist!! 💌
a/n: it is so like me to forget to paste this scene into the actual fic 😭 thankfully it all worked out and posting it as a blurb is actually a pretty good idea since i want to expand on steve and reader hehehe. im thinking of opening up my request for some blurbs with these two because writing for them is so fun!!! let me know what you think and thank you so much for all the love and support 💫🩷
taglist: @translatemunson @kennedy-brooke @manda-panda-monium @tvserie-s-world @givemeth @steveharringtonswife @the-alchemys @loving-and-dreaming @awkotaco24 @engenelxver @elfiaaaa @pbs-theundeadmaggot @johnricharddeacy @gaysludge @keerysfolklore @micheledawn1975 @ihatepeanutss @bakugouswh0r3
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hannieehaee · 11 months
Text
18+ / mdi
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content: once again, chan is a fucking loser, smut, f reader, dry humping, handjob, a lot of boob worship (?), spit kink (????) but not rlly, etc. this is a continuation to this, but can also be read as a standalone!
part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4
wc: 1258
masterlist
loser!chan, who feels like the luckiest bastard alive thanks to his chemistry teacher who decided to pair him up with his years-long crush.
ever since he started college, he thought that maybe he'd finally get rid of the loser nerd persona that had been assigned to him ever since middle school, when he started wearing thick-rimmed glasses to school and joined the anime club.
safe to say, that did not happen. due to his shy demeanor and lack of confidence, he remained an outcast in all situations possible, feeling as if he could never simply go up to someone and strike up a conversation. specially not with you, the pretty girl he met during orientation two years ago. someone who he had so badly wanted to get to know after catching your eyes one day during your intro bio course freshman year.
unexpectedly, now he found himself in your bed, your hands down his pants and your tongue lightly licking into his mouth as he moaned due to the friction. all thanks to his teacher's fateful decision to pair you up. ever since the first time you had invited him to your dorm for your group project (the first time he had ever felt the touch of a woman), you had found every opportunity possible to steal him away again under the vice of 'channie, we need to work on our assignment!'
your meetings tended to go pretty much the same every time. you'd both sit on your bed, pretending you were there for academic purposes as you set down your books and laptops in front of you while having much sinister thoughts in your heads. chan hadnt wanted to assume you'd always invited him over for anything other than studying, which is why he never made a move first, always allowing you to approach him and take him in whichever way you wanted.
that is how he was once again moaning into your mouth, trying to catch your tongue in his as you pulled your hands out of his pants, wanting to unzip them all the way through. so far, the most you and chan had done had been patting under your clothes and making out for a few hours, but it seemed like you wanted to go further this time.
chan felt like his heart was about to pop out of his chest, lifting his hips in order to help you take off his pants. what he hadnt expected, though, was for you to unglue yourself from him to throw your dress over your head before finally sitting on his lap. he had never felt the heat of someone else's body atop his like this before. he felt like he was burning.
"channie ..." you began. "why wont you touch me? you like how i touch you, dont you? dont you wanna do the same?", you pouted as you led his hands to your torso.
he gulped, breathing heavier than ever. "i- yes. wanna- please, show me. i-i dont know how, i-..." was his reply. he lowered his head, feeling embarrassed at being the ripe age of 23 having never felt the touch of a woman in this way.
"i know, channie. but it's okay. i'll show you."
with that, you let go of his hands momentarily to throw off your bra, quickly grabbing onto his hands again and placing them on your tits, "touch them channie," you breathed out, "touch them and rub them. it'll feel so good, i promise."
chan was frozen in place, eyes glued to your chest. he had never felt himself harder in his life. he'd obviously seen breasts before. both in class and through a screen (and he had maybe pictured yours sometimes before going to sleep..), but he had never felt the softness of them in his hands, nor the pebbles that hardened against his touch.
he followed your instructions, moaning at the way you threw your head back due to his fondling of them. your reaction made him intensify his touches. his actions had caused you to start lightly canting your panty-covered hips against his strained boxers, making him feel even more lightheaded. he decided to take initiative for once and lowered his head towards your chest, groaning as his tongue made contact with your nipple.
you let out a loud whine at the sudden contact, immediately pushing his head closer to your chest and grinding against him with more force now. "f-fuck channie. yes, please keep doing that. shit," your moaning kept driving chan insane, thinking about how desperate you must've been for him to have such reactions to his inexperienced touches.
you continued like this for a while. chan licking and sucking at your nipples while you whined and ground your hips against his. eventually this proved to not be enough for you, causing you to drag his face away from your chest and push him to lay fully on the bed, pinning his hands over his head.
"channie .. can i make you feel good? both of us. can i make us feel good?", you shallowed, delirious at the thought of finally meeting your end while with chan. the previous times you had met you had dedicated your time only to making him cum, wanting to warm him up for you before prioritizing your own pleasure.
"p-please. fuck. you dont have to ask. you can do whatever you want, just- a-argh fuck ..." his speech left him as you interrupted him with harsh grinding of your hips, the angle allowing his length to drag against the entirety of your pussy.
he hadnt known how warm and wet it would feel, having only ever felt his hand (well, now yours too) for the past few years. despite having his boxers and the light layer of your panties in the way, chan felt the heartbeat of your pussy pulse against his swollen dick, making all thought leave his head as he planted his feet on the bed and began to carelessly grind upwards against you, no rhythm to his movements but focused solely on chasing pleasure.
you humped against each other like animals, breathing into each other's mouths until you began to crave his taste, licking into his tongue as he threw his head back at the act. you lifted your head a bit, encouraging him to do the same and then directed him to stick out his tongue for you, which he did. you then began to lick and suck on his tongue, making him shake at the nastiness of it all.
he grabbed onto your hips, madly digging them against his with all the strength he could muster. you felt yourself get even wetter at the sheer force your cute innocent loser boy was using due to the pleasure clouding his mind, knowing that you'd cum any second now.
"'m gonna. fuck. gonna cum, channie. cum with me. please," you begged in a high whine.
chan had no willpower to respond and instead did his best to nod, once more throwing his head back as he came, you following soon after.
the aftermath consisted of a very exhausted chan being unable to move or process what had happened. you laid on top of him for a few minutes as you both caught your breaths. you were the first to speak up, lifting yourself off of him a bit, "sorry, i think i might've gotten over-excited," you chuckled, "id been thinking of that for a while. was that too much?"
he smiled moonily as he looked at the ceiling. "god, i hope we never finish our project."
n/a: not proofread aaahhhh sorry
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bunji-enthusiast · 8 months
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Hello again! I am that Anon that requested the Reader is a Smiling Critter and blah blah, I need more and thank you for making these, my heart is filled <3
This is gonna be quite detailed, feel free to change it!
Note: This might be a lil ooc or perhaps more of an AU?? Ah yes, Dogday's legs aren't gone, still attached just for the sake of the nature of the dynamics here.
The reader is a Smiling Critter once again, they had a dream about their old friends ( ex: Smiling Critters or maybe the other toys ). After they woke up in tears, soon they decided to go around the factory in hopes of finding the mini toy versions of their old friends, something to hopefully lessen the ache in their heart. Yeah, they also forgot to tell Catnap where they went and uh the living mini toys noticed their absence and reported it to Catnap 💀
Catnap ain't happy about it, he finishes up whatever he was doing and went on to find the Reader himself ( we're special jk- ). Later, he finally found them, whatever he felt at that time came to halt as he saw the Reader sitting down on the floor, in a pile of toy versions of their old friends, HIS old friends, their old friends, silently weeping to themselves. Without a second thought, he curled up around the reader, patting their head as if to silently reassure them it'll be okay, Catnap was actually genuine about it though the reader knew that it's not that simple ( with the whole prototype and how Catnap just listens to him 💀 ). But in their sadness and loneliness, they let their guard down and sink into the giant cat's affection, feeling nostalgic as they remember they always used to do this during naptime, with THEIR old friends.
After the reader fell into a deep sleep, Catnap decided to just stay where they were even with second thoughts in his mind, in this very moment, the old Catnap is back, not the one that follows the Prototype like a lost puppy. The Catnap his old friends know, the one Dogday knows, the one Reader knows. But he snapped back to his senses, deciding to rest his head on top of the Reader's in order to shutdown all those thoughts, purring while at it. This is ALL FOR THEM, FOR JUSTICE, TO END THE MADNESS, the Prototype promised him.
.....
Dogday is silent as he listens to his " former " friend talk about the events that occured a few hours ago. Catnap has decided to visit Dogday, free him from the belts to eat the food he brought. Dogday silently took the food and ate them as he listens Catnap's talk, understandably hesitant to butt in. It was more than weird, Catnap changed so suddenly and drastically, but recently he was softer, more like the old Catnap, albeit still threatening.
" Dogday... " That made the giant dog snapped out of his thoughts upon hearing his name, his eyes met with Catnap's. Before letting out a surprised yelp as the cat pounced on him, Dogday was terrified for his fate until he felt long arms curled around him. Catnap was hugging him tightly. Read that again. Hugging him. The so-called heretic. Dogday now knows what his friend ( Reader ) felt when Catnap helps them get back to sleep.
This is the Catnap they knew, the actions speak louder than words one, he wasn't truly gone after all.
Night Befallen
Note || I cast brain rot upon ye 🤲
WC || 1,384
Sypnosis || Maybe, just maybe knowing what one can know now—your old friend isn’t entirely stolen away from you.
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You had found yourself immersed in a poignant dream, revisiting cherished memories of old friends. Awaking with tears lingering on your lashes, you felt an insistent pull to embark on a heartfelt quest. Determined to reconnect with the essence of your past, you resolve to venture into the depths of the factory, in search of the miniature toy replicas of your beloved originals. With each step forward, anticipation intertwined with nostalgia, guiding your path through the echoes of your cherished history.
You just wished things had truly stayed the same, why did it all happen before–this, Hour of Joy–whatever it had been. CatNap, the same cat you came to cherish and love had been completely twisted, viewing Prototype as a god?
It just made no sense to you, everything is madness.
For now, perhaps you could absolve in finding peace with your recreational little toys, shadows of former friends they may be of course. 
“Tch-” You snorted, trying to keep yourself from breaking down in the face of your tiny little friends that are piling up around you. Just like all the old times before, the times… before. All the tiny smiling critters were just plain adorable though, so that was advantageous. 
Beyond the shadows, some creeping figures watching you took notice of your absence. No, not in CatNap’s home, nothing goes one without CatNap knowing of anything. 
A small critter skittered away, you didn’t notice—you were far in too deep to properly take recognition of anything happening, only mourning your former friends. Who knew trying to take a look at the essences of your past, a past of once where you were happy, content. You were just doing your job as a fellow critter, you loved your job. You loved being a critter, you loved your friends.
“You guys are so cute..” You smile softly, hugging them close in spite of the few stray tears streaming down your face. Normally, you’d wipe them away, but right now you just wanted to stay in the moment. 
Stay with all your old friends, even if they weren’t your real ones. 
You could be allowed the peace of illusion, atleast.
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To say he was furious was an understatement, what had the tiny critter meant by your absence? 
In CatNap’s eyes, this was unacceptable. 
One should remain where they are, they are not to derail from their paths. You shouldn’t be derailing from your path. No matter the reason, he will quickly finish his patrolling, and come straight to you to put you in your place. Mostly, being stern. 
Should he allow you that courtesy? Yes, CatNap should. You are his old friend, you were so kind as to work with the Prototype (even if you were completely against it), CatNap will be lenient with you. 
Suddenly CatNap had gotten lost in thought, and lifted his paw to see what he was doing. Oh yes, he was killing a human survivor for their incompetence – that is what was happening. He repeatedly shook his paw to get the remains of the human off his claws and paw as well, the blood remained on his fur unfortunately. CatNap can find some way to clean that off later.
As if he was sighing, CatNap’s mouth emitted a large breath of Poppy Gas, something of which he used sparsely; only when he wanted to block out people from areas he didn’t want them in. CatNap admittedly felt as if what he was doing here was wrong, but it was only in the name of the Prototype. 
CatNap finally went on his way once he cleared his head of these troubling thoughts, he was going to deal with you and he wouldn’t delay it any longer.
He always had eyes all around Playcare, did you really think you could get away with this so easily? Prototype is leader, god. He would not allow anyone to defile Prototype’s name, not even you.
No matter, he was going to make this quite clear.
It seemed the small smiling critters had felt his immense aura for bloodlust, causing them to skitter away from whence he came. CatNap without a shadow of a doubt, can be terrifying. 
CatNap simply paid no mind, and continued on making his way toward you. 
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Even in all the rubble and dust, one clear distinction his keen ears could pick up was reminiscent of crying. To the normal ear, one would not be able to hear this. It was so silent, was it out of a fear that you were crying so silently?
No, it was because of the smiling critters, the smaller bodies. Merely replicas, but so well done for just being copies of the original critters. Shadows always danced in CatNap’s headspace, perhaps he could make it out the same within your case. He had always crossed his heart, locking it away in soul and key. CatNap deemed it all unnecessary. Yet, with you it was recurring.
Slowly enough, whatever emotions – whatever anger he had before was fading away. CatNap was overcome with a sense of sympathy, he wanted to comfort you, his friend. Now he just came to a complete halt, trying to figure out what was wise on what to do. 
CatNap felt pitiful, sounding low when he remembered those very screams. 
You have seen just as much as he did.
Hesitantly, he stepped forward, CatNap didn’t want to frighten you out of your stupor. His long elongated tail wrapped around your being, calmly re-adjusting you with a steady stance. CatNap laid down, folding his back legs and crossing his front ones. He so suddenly cuddled up against you, patting your head to reassure you silently. 
You nodded your head, snapping to the attention of CatNap’s presence. You knew otherwise that he wasn’t being as genuine, in spite of it being real in his eyes. 
Otherwise, you didn’t feel as on guard. You weren’t stressed or protesting in any case, you felt as if you were falling asleep. You began to fall asleep, CatNap sensed this, curling up against you to feel more comfortable. 
That was in your sadness and loneliness, had sleep finally claimed you – purely out of nostalgia that you had used to do this during naptime, with your old friends. 
Abornormally enough, he didn’t feel so angry. CatNap felt more as if he was at peace with you, even with these thoughts. How the Prototype had promised him justice, to end all the madness, just for you… for all of them. 
In a moment soon enough, CatNap had promptly followed you into sleep. 
If death was a choice, then he rejects it.
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Silent and contemplative, DogDay listened as his "former friend" recounted the recent events, memories of comforting you when tears flowed and offering solace in the embrace of sleep. CatNap's unexpected visit and the subsequent act of liberation from his restraints were met with wary acceptance as DogDay consumed the offered sustenance, his attention captured by CatNap's unusual demeanor.
It was a peculiar sight, witnessing CatNap revert to a semblance of his former self amidst the oppressive atmosphere of their surroundings. Despite the underlying threat that lingered in CatNap's presence, there was a glimmer of familiarity in his actions, stirring a sense of unease within DogDay's battered psyche.
“This isn’t his usual behavior,” or “He’s just now had a revelation?” 
Lost in his thoughts, DogDay was abruptly pulled back to reality by the mention of his name, a sharp reminder of the precariousness of his situation. Anticipation coiled within him as CatNap lunged forward, bracing for the inevitable retribution that awaited him. Yet, to his astonishment, instead of aggression, he was enveloped in an unexpected embrace.
Stunned and bewildered, DogDay felt the weight of CatNap's arms around him, a gesture of affection that defied all expectations. In that fleeting moment of connection, DogDay experienced a revelation, a glimpse into the profound bond shared between you and CatNap, a bond forged amidst the chaos and strife of your shared existence.
As the echoes of their encounter lingered in the air, DogDay found himself grappling with newfound understanding. The warmth of CatNap's embrace, though fleeting, offered a glimpse of redemption amidst the shadows of his past transgressions. And in that moment, DogDay realized the profound impact of companionship, transcending the boundaries of fear and prejudice.
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mrsjellymunson · 3 months
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The Biology Tutor
Independent Study 01: Art
Series masterlist
Pairing: virgin!Eddie Munson x fem!tutor!reader
Series summary: Eddie’s failing Biology class, so you decide to offer two different styles of tuition, textbook-based and *ahem* practical.
Chapter summary: Eddie reflects on your most recent study session.
WC: ~1.68k
C/W: 18+, SMUT, MDNI!! I don’t want to give too much away, so I’ll just say that Eddie has some alone time… (If you’ve read the rest of this series you’ll likely not be surprised by any of the content, but if anyone feels strongly that this part needs any specific cautions LMK 💙) No physical descriptions of reader, but she is described as wearing makeup (though this isn’t integral to the story and it’s only one line)
A/N: I know I promised you Lesson 3 was coming soon, but I couldn’t help thinking about how Eddie and reader might feel after their recent tryst in the library, so this extra was born (and you can shout at me about it in the comments if you wish, I would love it ISTG 😂).
As if it wasn’t bad enough already, he muses. Eddie’s been increasingly distracted, and even his Hellfire campaigns are starting to suffer. But ever since that kiss (oh fuck, that kiss) in the library, Eddie absolutely can’t stop thinking about you.
The situation only gets worse when he’s alone, and is compounded further anytime he’s naked.
He’s already jerked off to the thought of you so many times, and he’s certain you knew exactly what you were doing when you brought those (silky, stained) sleep shorts to school for him. (He’s ashamed to admit that he’d spent that morning break under the bleachers with them pressed up against his face, breathing so deeply he almost hyperventilated, and since he got them home they haven’t left his bed.) But he still feels like it’s somehow wrong for him to think about you like this, and he’s sure you’ll see it written all over his face…
This isn’t the first time he’s thought about you whilst he’s in the shower, either. In fact, that started even before you became his tutor - it just took you wearing a particularly short skirt to biology class and it rapidly became a favourite pastime of his.
But today, thanks to your unexpectedly steamy study session in the library, his his cock is already fully hard, standing proudly in front of him within moments of him stepping into the tub, and his mental imagery is especially vivid.
He manages a quick wash before the throbbing between his legs demands his full attention, and his thoughts inevitably turn back to you.
Taking his cock lightly in his hand, he imagines kissing you gently, slowly. He remembers how your lips and mouth felt against his, and how your hands crept up his back over his shirt just hours ago. He recalls every movement, every sensation, as if to burn it permanently into his memory. The feel of your lips, how you smelled, how -oh god- how you tasted. He thinks about how gentle and soft your tongue was, and how he can’t get the sensation of it sliding against his out of his mind. It’s jostling for space next to the thoughts of how much he wants to use his own to explore every inch of you, if you’d ever let him.
Then, in his mind, you’re going over more test questions with him, just like you were in the study room. Except now each time he gets a question right, you praise him, stroke his face… and remove an item of clothing.
Eventually your clothing is all gone and you’re kneeling in front of him here in the shower, the warm water cascading over you in sparkling rivulets. Your naked body seems to glow, and your skin has an otherworldly, fantastical iridescence. Your pretty makeup smears and runs, creating delicate streaks of colour down your cheeks. And you’re wearing a shining tiara made of precious metals and sparkling stones.
His Princess.
Your knees are spread, leaving yourself open, and he imagines how you’d feel on his fingers. Soft, warm, wet, waiting.
He suppresses a moan, lest any of his neighbours are passing by. The flimsy walls of these trailers are hardly soundproof.
He curses as he imagines your hands running over his taut quads, your lips kissing them, then your soft, warm tongue tickling up his inner thighs towards his cock.
Eddie strokes his fingers delicately over his sack, imagining it’s you licking him, looking up at him through your wet eyelashes as you promise,
“Let me show you what a clever boy you are, Eddie. How much of a reward you deserve for working that beautiful brain so hard.”
And then you’re running your tongue up the full length of his cock, all the way from base to tip, but this time you’re not using biological terms, not trying to educate him. This time, you’re just filling yourself with him, suckling on his swollen head and sliding your wet mouth down onto him, further, further, until the tip of him is nudging your throat.
He thinks back to the last time you were on his sofa, your last ‘lesson’, how good you looked and felt when you took his cock in your mouth and looked at him as he grasped your hand. How your tongue swirled so devilishly before you nodded so sweetly and let him cum down your throat. How you licked his release from your lips…
He feels his balls tighten and a familiar sensation stirs in his abdomen, but he doesn't want this to be over yet, so he grips and squeezes that part of his dick that he knows will stave off his orgasm, opening his eyes and taking a few deep breaths, focussing on the swirl of the soapy water as it spirals down the drain.
Breathing deep, Eddie allows himself to slowly and elaborately create a new fantasy, this time imagining he’s pressing you up against the tiled wall.
He wonders what your wet skin might feel like against his, and how your tits might feel against his chest, beneath his hands, in his mouth.
He pictures what it’d be like to nudge your feet apart, just a little, and slot his hips between those luscious thighs.
How it’d feel to push through your glorious folds with the tip of his cock, and slide slowly into your warmth and wetness. The thought makes his breath leave his body in a rush, and he has to stifle another moan.
He wonders how pliant you’d be, whether you’d tell him how talented he is, how much you love it when he does this, how good you’re gonna be for him.
He wonders whether he'd be sweet, telling you you’re so beautiful, how he'll always take care of you, and treat you like the princess you are.
Or whether you’d be filthy, spilling profanities as you urge him to fill you deeper, take you faster, go harder.
And whether he’d ever have the balls to talk dirty to you, and tell you how well you take him, how your cunt is so perfect for him, how much he wants you, and adores fucking you.
Dick slick with foaming shower gel, Eddie’s swollen member slides almost effortlessly into his fist. He braces himself on his free forearm, palm flat against the tiles, imagining your body is between him and the cool ceramic, moving you both with each thrust of his hips.
He imagines his warm chest pressed to yours, and how the water feels trickling over and between your writhing forms as it flows over his shoulders, across your tits, over his balls and down between your thighs.
He groans into the steamed up space as he bucks up into his fist, imagining it’s your wet and willing pussy. Would you cum like this? It’s his fantasy, so of course you would… He wonders how it would feel. Would it be like he’s read about, where you’d be tight around him, squeezing his length as you rode out your high?
He can almost hear your moans as the head of his cock hits that special spot inside you that - just as you promised the first time you came over - you taught him to find. His ego lets him imagine he’d be skilled, maybe the best you’d had, and he imagines how your voice would eventually crack as you'd breathily tell him, just as you did in the library,
“That’s it, Eddie! You’ve got it!”
All of it combined is enough to tip him over. His hips stutter and his abdomen tenses as he cums with a broken groan, his vision becoming spotty as his wet spend spurts high up the tiles, some of it almost reaching eye level, sticking to the wall in sweeping, dripping splashes and the rest running down over his hand and wrist.
He squeezes himself, milking his cock of every last drop, whispering your name as he leans his forehead against his forearm and rests there, catching his breath. He’s not sure if he’s ever cum that hard by himself, and he certainly never has in the shower.
Vision clearing, he appraises the evidence of his lust. Human art on ceramic canvas.
However, for once it’s not an artistic display of his that he wants anyone else to see. He makes a mental note to clean off the tiles higher up than he normally would, and begins to rinse off under the cooling stream.
Shit. Wayne’s gonna be pissed when he comes home to find he’s used up all the hot water, and he doesn’t even have an excuse.
As he sluices the mess he’s made down the drain and his post-orgasm fog starts to lift, Eddie starts to feel like the deviant perv he’s sure he must be. He also realises how increasingly difficult it’s getting for him to suppress the various feelings he has for you. How the hell is he supposed to face you after this?
Is this that thing he’s heard about? Post Nut Clarity, or something?
Coming down from his high, he wonders what you’re doing right now. Probably hanging with friends, or diligently doing your homework. Something innocent and worthy. Wholesome.
By stark contrast, as he considers the somewhat-uncomfortable, almost-permanent semi he sports when you’re anywhere near him. Or, when he knows you’re in school generally. Or, fuck, simply just whenever he thinks about you. Suddenly he’s grateful for the cooling water, as his dick threatens to get hard again just from the mere thought of seeing you in class, or passing you in a corridor.
But then there’s also… the other feelings. The ones he’s never experienced before. The ones that tell him there’s so much more to this than just ‘having fun whilst tutoring’. At least, there is from his perspective.
Because what if this is just a temporary arrangement, and once he passes biology class you’ll have had your fun and will move on. Maybe even with somebody else?
Or, what if you feel the same?
And honestly? He’s not certain which prospect terrifies him the most…
Thanks so much for reading! I hope you liked this little extra ❤️
Series masterlist
Prev parts: Lesson 1: Female anatomy Lesson 2: Male anatomy Extra Credits 01: Communication skills Extra Credits 02: French Next part: Independent Study 02: Creative Writing
If you’d like to join the taglist for this series or my general one, just drop me a comment, ask or message letting me know, I’d love to have you on board 💗
Taglist (open): @airen256 @bimbobaggins69 @urlbitchin @jamdoughnutmagician @rustboxstarr @bl4ckt00thgr1n @bexreadstoomuch @cozmiccass @sadlittlesquish @yujyujj @cluz1babe @thunderg @aysheashea @paleidiot @cadence73 @eddie-munsons-wifey @siriuslysmoking @neville-is-my-husband @aestheticaltcow @jjmaybankswifes-blog @lightcommastix @ungracefularchimedes @spenciesprincess @joejoequinnquinn @freshoutthewomb2 @sunshinepeachx @tlclick73 @hellfirenacht @yourdailymemedelivery @wendyxox @madaboutmunson @80s-addict @the-unforgivenn @skrzydlak @eddiesxangel @bunny7232 @starksbabie @comeonatmebruh @jamiecb66 @abellmunsonmovie @sheneedsrocknroll92 @daisy-munson @maedesculpaeusoubi @wonderlanddreamer @leatherfaceologist @munson-blurbs @paradisepoisons and because you said you like fantasies @mediocredreams 😉
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jumexju · 29 days
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NUREBAIRO
Pairing !! : Sasuke / Fem Reader
Fic Type !! : One-Shot, Angst to Fluff
CW !! : Mentions of anxiety
Summary !! : You lose a hairpin he gave you.
Note !! : Inspired by the Sasuke figurine that somebody stole from me, I havent gotten it back to this day <////3
✦ MASTERLIST
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A cold sweat ran down your back after not feeling it there.
You turned and inspected the floor. ‘Had it fallen?’ You bit your bottom lip anxiously as you looked around. Setting your tote bag down, you retraced your steps with hopeful eyes glancing over every blade of grass. You couldn’t have lost it, he just gave it to you three hours ago! 
“Hn..” You groaned under your breath worriedly as you inspected every step you’d taken before coming home, not finding it anywhere. Maybe tomorrow you’d go back to the shop and ask if they’d seen something like it before you left? You hoped that they did.. 
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“No, I’m sorry, _____. I haven’t come across anything like it, if i saw it I would’ve told you..” Ino frowned slightly, empathizing with your situation. 
“Damn.. Alright, thanks anyway, Ino ..!” You waved her goodbye and left her flower shop, biting your bottom lip anxiously. Sasuke would probably get irritated that you lost it so quickly.. But it wasn’t like you wanted that to happen! You were so sure you’d had it on.. As you walked back to your home you thought of the events of yesterday. You had it on when you walked into her shop but it wasn’t in your hair when you came home.. And it couldn’t have fallen since you would’ve found it when you retraced your steps last night. 
You felt a pit settle in your stomach, disappointed in how easily you’d lost it. Especially after getting it on the same day! Sighing, you decided to bake some cookies to take some of the stress off. You’d felt incredibly guilty, especially since you knew that it was a gift that he had given to you with much thought. You couldn’t believe that you’d lost it and frankly, you were worried that he’d be upset if he found out. 
You let out a small sigh as you mixed the cookie batter in the bowl, “Could someone have swiped it off of me? Did it fall ..?” All these questions filled your mind, ruining the calm environment you were seeking through baking cookies. Soon enough, the sun started to go down and the evening greeted the sky. Sasuke was off on a mission so you didn’t know how long he’d be away, you just hoped you could find it before he came home. 
As you popped the cookies in the oven to bake, you decided to pick up that book that Kakashi sensei had recommended to you. You’d been trying to read it but it seemed like whenever you found it, it went missing as soon as you turned away.. 
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Sasuke let out a sigh of relief once he stepped into the Uchiha Compound, he was glad he was home now and wondered if you were there yet — It was quite late after all. When your husband opened the door, he was met with the pleasing aroma of sweet, chocolate chip cookies. Sasuke wasn’t a fan of sweet things but he’d be lying if he said it didn’t smell good. 
“I’m home,” He announced, wondering where you were since usually you would greet him at the door. 
After he took off his shoes at the genkan, he wandered into the living room to find you sleeping soundly on the couch and a batch of freshly baked cookies on the kitchen table. Were you tired? It was late so maybe you just decided to sleep here? Though.. The way you were mumbling things and knitting your brows in your sleep didn’t seem good. 
Sasuke came close to you and leaned in to press a kiss to your forehead, your expression seemed to relax after his simple gesture. Your lover glanced down, seeing one of Kakashi’s books in your hand. ‘Were you trying to read Icha-Icha again?’ he sighed as he took the book from your hands. ‘I thought I'd hidden it..’ Sasuke thought to himself, freezing in his tracks once you began to shift in your sleep. 
“Sa..suke?” your eyebrows furrowed a little as you rubbed your eyes from the sleep. “You’re home?” Your husband nodded and sat next to you after you sat up and greeted him with a hug. “When did you come home?” 
“Not too long ago,” he answered you as he softly smiled, hiding the book within his cloak. “You made cookies?”
You nodded, reminded of why  you’d started baking cookies…. Now you were face to face with him, you could only hope he wouldn’t notice that it was gone. You shifted nervously, “Uhm.. So, do you want me to run you a bath-?” 
“You were talking in your sleep.” Sasuke cut you off, abruptly changing the conversation. This made you even more anxious than you had been in the entire day. 
“Was I? I Didn’t say anything embarrassing, did I?” You sheepishly brought a finger to your lower lip — A gesture you usually did when you were nervous — This, Sasuke took notice of. It was both a blessing and a curse that you had married one of the most observant shinobi to exist, because there was no way that Sasuke wouldn’t notice that the hairpin he had given you yesterday was missing. You haven't been wearing it since you were sleeping.. And it wasn’t on the table.. So the only conclusion he could come up with was that it was missing. 
Sasuke shook his head, “You didn’t.. Although, you were mumbling my name.” You could feel the heat rise up to your cheeks and avoided his gaze. Sasuke was the only one who could make you feel so bashful under his tender gaze. 
The night wasn’t too eventful, you were just glad to be spending time with him after about two weeks of him being gone. ‘Maybe the hairpin conversation could wait..’ you thought to yourself as you laid in bed beside him. Your lover had been tired, so he fell asleep pretty fast, but all your worries had kept you up. You sighed as you shifted and looked up at the ceiling, you knew you’d have to tell him soon.. But..
“Stop worrying.” Sasuke mumbled, his eyes closed and his black hair in his face. 
“..I’m not..” 
Your husband chuckled, “you bite your lip any more and you’ll draw blood,” he warned. You turned to face him, an unamused and slightly sheepish expression on your face. 
“I hate that you know me so well.” 
“If only that were true,” He chimed as he welcomed you when you snuggled up to his side. “Now go to sleep..” You reluctantly complied after giving him a kiss on the cheek and let yourself succumb to slumber. You slept the rest of the night like a baby, Sasuke made sure not to wake you up when he got up early in the morning to search for the pin. 
Needless to say, when you got up, there was a certain book missing, but the hairpin was on your bedside table. 
Along with a small note, 
‘Try not to lose it again, okay?’
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hugz4hoon · 3 months
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stargazing (pt.2) - s.j.y.
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read part one here!
summary — you finally come to the conclusion that you need to get over your one sided feelings.
pairing — best friend!jake x fem!reader
genre — fluff and angst
wc — 2.3k
a/n — she's here! it ended up taking longer than i thought because i absolutely hated my first draft LOL so i completely scratched it and restarted it with a new plot hehe but i really hope u guys like this one!!!
It’s been two weeks since you last spoke with Jake. The last time you saw him was when he left you heartbroken on your rooftop. Since then, Jake has regretted not telling you how he feels that night. The only reason he hasn’t called or texted you is because he’s embarrassed about how he acted, and he doesn’t know what to say to you. Meanwhile, you’ve been forcing yourself to get over him by distracting yourself everyday. It’s obvious he’s been avoiding you; it’s definitely time to move on.
You were at the mall with your friends when you saw Jake walking in your direction. It was a bit nerve wracking—you haven’t seen him for two weeks, and suddenly, you didn’t know how to act around him anymore. But, that didn’t seem to be a problem, because when you made eye contact with him, his eyes widened as if he had seen a ghost. The second Jake saw you, he immediately turned to walk in the opposite direction. And that’s when you saw who he was with… a girl that you’ve never seen before? You watched their backs as they left your eyeline.
Your heart ached with a newfound heaviness. You felt as if your whole world was crumbling down. Who was that? Does he hate me so much that he can’t even look at me? Did he really find a new best friend in the span of two weeks? Or even, a girlfriend? Your mind was going haywire, and your distress definitely showed on your face.
One of your friend’s voices snapped you out of your daze.
“Y/N, are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m just feeling a little tired right now. I think I should head home,” you half heartedly smiled at them. You had to get out of there. If you stayed in the busy environment for any longer, you’re sure you would’ve passed out. Shrugging off your friends’ demands and questions asking whether you wanted company, you called a taxi and headed home.
--
As soon as you got home, you took a hot shower to collect your thoughts. You didn’t want to be heartbroken over Jake because that would ruin all the progress you’ve made in getting over him. Instead, you decided to take a nap to try to sleep it off.
When you woke up, it was 6pm; you ended up sleeping for around three hours. You wake up to the vibrations erupting from your phone. Before you could see who was calling, the call ended. That’s when you saw the many missed calls adorning your notification center. There are over a dozen missed calls from… Jake? You keep scrolling to find Jake’s text messages to you from two hours ago.
jakey <3: can we talk
jakey <3: i shouldn’t have walked away from u
jakey <3: i miss u
Now you're pissed. Saying he misses you right after ignoring you for two weeks, and walking away from you without so much as a quick hello at the mall, is confusing as hell. Not only is it confusing, but it’s also rage inducing. With anger clouding your mind, you sharply respond to his messages instead of calling him back.
y/n: that’s so stupid
y/n: you say all that but your actions say otherwise
He calls you immediately the second you text him back, but you cannot be bothered to pick up.
[missed call from “jakey <3”]
jakey <3: pick up ur phone y/n
y/n: no. i don’t wanna hear it jake
y/n: i’m done
jakey <3: done? what do u mean by that
jakey <3: y/n please just call me we need to talk
jakey <3: y/n
At this point, you’re so annoyed with him that everything he says pisses you off. You stop responding when you start to feel as if steam is blowing out of your ears, before your head pops off due to built up pressure. As you start to distract yourself by doom scrolling through social media, you get another notification from Jake.
jakey <3: open ur door
Sure enough, he’s at your house now. You ignore the message and continue scrolling, hoping that after a couple of minutes, he’ll leave. About five minutes pass by, when you hear a tap on your window. You jump at the noise, and your gaze immediately turns to where the sound came from. There on the tree branch sits Jake, in all his boyish charm, as he sports that damn quirky and apologetic smile again. Unfortunately for him, this is the first time it doesn’t work in his favour. Honestly, you still don’t want to let him in, but it’s a particularly windy day, and despite your anger, you don’t want him to hurt himself.
With a stern expression plastered on your face, you unlock the window and turn right back to your bed. He watches with sorrowful eyes as you sit on your bed, realizing in his haste to see you, he forgot to prepare an apology.
He hesitantly pulls open the window and enters your room. After closing the window, he awkwardly stands there as he thinks of how to approach the situation. You, on the other hand, are staring daggers into his eyes.
“So, are you going to tell me what you’re doing here?” Jake flinches at the clear irritation in your tone. This is the first time you’ve ever been mad at him, and he doesn’t know how to handle it. He hates it. He hates that he’s the reason behind your disdain. All he wants is to see your beautiful smile again.
He shuffles his feet clumsily as he searches for the right words. “I’m here to atone.” He announces with an uncertain voice. Hm, maybe that wasn’t the way to start off, he thinks as he sees your face change into an expression of disconcert.
Your jaw falls open at his statement. What kind of stupid opening is that? “Jake, if you're not going to be serious, I don’t want to hear it,” you firmly state, while getting up to leave your room.
“No, wait, let me finish!” he spews out before you can leave, which gets you to stop in your tracks. “Sorry, I know that wasn’t the best thing to say, but it’s because I don’t know how to address this,” he mumbles.
“Why? I don’t understand, Jake. We used to be able to talk about anything. You used to tell me everything, what happened? I feel like I’m going insane right now.” Your eyes start to water from the vulnerability you’re showing him.
Jake’s eyes soften after hearing your words. He never meant to make you feel this way, in fact, this is the opposite of what he wanted. The reason he didn’t reach out to you was because he was terrified. Terrified of ruining the friendship you two had built over the years. Jake had spent countless nights thinking about you, replaying moments in his mind, and imagining what could be. He wanted to tell you the truth, but he was paralyzed by the fear of your rejection.
What if you didn’t feel the same way? What if confessing his feelings meant losing you forever?
Jake walks over to you and pulls you down to sit on the bed with him, his expression filled with a mix of desperation and vulnerability. His eyes gaze down at your teary ones as he starts to speak in the most serious tone you’ve ever heard from him. “Y/N, the last thing I wanted to do was confuse you.”
“Well, you are confusing me!” Although you want to hear him out, you can’t help but be angry while thinking about his previous immature actions. One thought in particular crosses your mind. “Who was she?” You whisper as you break eye contact with him, prepared for the worst.
Jake takes a deep breath, knowing he needs to explain everything to you. “The girl you saw me with at the mall,” he begins, his voice steadying, “she's not what you think.”
You raise an eyebrow, still feeling a twinge of uncertainty. "Then who is she?"
"She's a friend from one of my classes.” Jake explains, running a hand through his hair. She asked for help with a project she's working on, and we decided to grab some coffee and discuss it. That’s all it was. I promise."
You feel a wave of relief, but there’s still a lingering doubt. “Why did you walk away when you saw me?”
Jake sighs, his shoulders slumping slightly. “When I saw you, I freaked out. I didn’t know how to face you after everything. I thought you might think she was someone important to me, and I didn’t want to hurt you more than I already had. But running away just made things worse.”
You take a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions inside you. "You could have just told me, Jake. I spent these two weeks thinking you hated me or something."
Jake's face softens even more, his eyes pleading. “I'm so sorry, Y/N. I never wanted you to feel that way. To be honest, I was just really scared of losing you. But I've realized that keeping my feelings from you was the worst thing I could have done.”
Your heart races at his words, relief and apprehension filling your chest. "And what are those feelings, Jake? What have you been so afraid to tell me?"
Jake takes a breath, finally ready to tell you what he’s wanted to say for years. It’s now or never. “Y/N, I’m in love with you, and I have been for years. I was scared to tell you because I didn’t know how you would react, and the last thing I wanted was to lose you.” His heart races as the precious words fall from his lips.
You gasp at his sudden confession. You’ve been waiting for this for years and years, and as it’s finally happened, you feel your heart burst with excitement and joy. However, you still feel a fair amount of hesitancy to accept his feelings due to his previous actions.
He watches your face, searching your eyes for an answer. “Jake, I… I’ve waited so long to hear you say that,” his eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the uncertainty in your voice. “But do you understand how much you hurt me by ignoring me for so long?” Your voice trembles with anger and sadness. “How am I supposed to know that you won’t do that if we get into another situation like this? I don’t ever want to go through that again.”
Jake’s eyes fill with regret. “I know, Y/N. I was such an idiot. I thought staying away would somehow protect our friendship, but all I did was make things worse.” He takes a hold of your hands and kneels between your legs, while looking up at you with pleading eyes. “Please, Y/N, I’m so, so sorry. I can’t lose you, I don’t know what I would do with you.”
Your lips part in shock and overwhelm as you can sense the sincerity in his words as a couple of tears slip from your eyes. “Okay, Jake. I believe you. And actually, I’ve loved you for years too. I love you so, so much. But you need to promise me that you’ll never do that again, okay? We need to be there for each other, always.”
Jake’s eyes light up with elation. Under this light, he looks a bit like an excited puppy. How adorable, you think to yourself. “I know, I promise I’ll never do anything like that again. I love you, Y/N. I want to be with you.”
Now that you’re feeling more secure in your relationship with Jake, you finally feel at ease. With him, everything is easy and comfortable. With him, you feel at home. “Well, of course you do. I know I’m hard to resist,” you tease. Jake smiles up at you, happy that you’re back to your normal, witty self. “Yeah, imagine how hard it was for me to hide it for so long,” he replies with a grin.
“Mm, yeah, must’ve been pretty tough,” you nod sarcastically as you gently pull him up by his chin. He beams at you before cupping your face and bringing it closer to him until your lips meet in a tender, soft kiss. You both feel fireworks as your mouths rhythmically move together in waves of passion. The kiss is filled with years of unspoken feelings and promises of a future together.
When you finally pull apart, the room is filled with nothing but sounds of heavy breathing. Jake then rests his forehead against yours. “I love you, Y/N. I won’t let you down again.”
You smile, feeling a surge of warmth spread through your chest. “I love you too, Jake. Just don’t keep me in the dark anymore, okay?”
Jake nods, his eyes shining with love. “Never again. From now on, no more secrets.”
You two lay back on the bed, and Jake pulls you close to his body, letting you rest your head on his chest. You talk late into the night, much like you’ve always done before, the difference being instead of best friends, it’s now a conversation between a boyfriend and a girlfriend. This is all you’ve ever wanted and more.
The sun begins to rise again, painting the sky in shades of pink and gold, just like that night on the rooftop. But this time, there are no unspoken words or missed opportunities. Just the promise of a new beginning for you and Jake, together.
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tags: @breadlover01 @en-chantedtomeetyou @14-hibiscus
194 notes · View notes
hamlets-ak · 9 months
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back to you ༊*·˚
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m.list ◦ askbox
synopsis: it’s been 3 months since timothée left to film DUNE 2 and you are rotting alone at your apartment. he was supposed to be gone for one more week but he decided to surprise you
*18+, minors DNI, sexual themes & references, romantic dynamic, established relationship, consent
« What are you doing now? », Tim’s voice echoed from the phone to the empty, cold walls of your apartment. You smiled sweetly watching his face light up the screen.
He was out, walking - the sky above his head and buildings circling him. Sunbathed curls entangled with the wind as his eyes scanned the road.
About three months had passed since Timothée left to film Dune 2 and you could feel the slow decay of flesh and bones. The colours of the walls were fading, turning dull without him around and the temperature had fallen so abruptly, no one had warned you about it.
You missed Timothée unfathomably - everything about him; his goofy laugh that always brought a smile to your face, his hair that glistered golden under the sun and the way he pulled the curls out of his face, his eyes changing colours with the weather and you pointing that out, his nose running aimlessly to your shoulder when you were laying on bed together or his fingers tracing softly your skin. You missed the conversations you had, your long walks around the city with his hand holding tightly your shoulder or wrapping around you, to have you close. Your late-night car rides when you’d blast your favourite songs on the radio or you’d go to a McDonald’s just because. You missed having him in your apartment, walking around as if it was his own, staying there for days and suddenly remembering that he had a home too. You missed watching TV with him, reading with him, sharing earphones with him, cooking with him, eating with him, waking up with him, sleeping with him... Everything. 
« Nothing... », you mumbled, nuzzling better on the couch. Your face leaned on the pillow and you took a deep breath, inhaling Timothée's scent from that old t-shirt you wore and belonged to him. You weren't sure where or how you found it. It was old, so old, and it had a huge hole under one armpit that could easily be filled by another hand, but you didn't care because it smelt like him and it brought back memories from when you first met. « Watching TV... and missing you. »
« You miss me? », he asked again, the grin on his face reaching his ears. You closed your eyes and nodded. Timothée looked at you before his stare moved back on the road. You breathed out again, more dramatically this time, trying to catch his attention. 
« You have no idea how awful it is without you. Everything is too quiet. »
« Are you implying that I’m loud? », he frowned.
« Well, you are loud, american boy. » Tim laughed, lightly shaking his head not to smile any harder.
« One week... », his eyes fell on you noticing the way your cheeks perked up and leaned down to press a kiss on the screen. He missed you too, terribly - more than you could possibly imagine. His life was as dull as yours - maybe even more so because the only thing he had that reminded him of you was some pixels trapped on a phone screen and a necklace he took from you, ages ago, for good luck and ended up becoming more his than yours.
« One week, » you repeated his words with a hint of melancholy. It had been almost three months but time didn’t pass any less torturous, no matter if it was hours, days or weeks. You raised the phone high in the air so your neck wouldn’t hurt. « The bed misses you... And the couch... » He shut his lips, trying to hold onto his smirk. « The bathtub too. »
« Aw, tell them I miss them. The floor too. »
« You don’t miss anything else, you materialist? »
« Nah, » Tim gave you a look making your lips fall into a downwards curve. « Oh wait, you thought that I missed you? », he furrowed his brows playfully. You pouted and pulled your t-shirt up to cover your mouth.
« Definitely not hurt, Chalamet. Definitely not hurt, » you made him smile. Timothée shook his head before his eyes caught a glimpse of what you were wearing and suddenly frowned curiously and leaned closer to the screen. His forehead and eyes covered the screen for a moment, and you wanted nothing more than to pull away those few curls that concealed his eyes.
« Is that mine? », he asked amused and surprised all at once. « It's mine. » Your lips stretched into a big curve, letting the t-shirt hang back down. You shrugged in response before hugging yourself.
« Ours, » you mumbled.
« Ours... », he repeated your words. « For real though, that shirt is disgusting. I’ve had it since I was like twenty. »
« Don’t care. Where are you now? », you frowned bringing the phone impossibly close to your face to take a good look at his surroundings but all you could see was a sky and a mass of buildings that all looked the same.
« Em... on the road, going back to the hotel… I was out for coffee, » Timothée replied, eyes focused on the road waiting for the traffic light. When he noticed the screen getting brighter from your cheeks that were swelling with happiness, he had to glance back down at the phone. « What? »
« Oh nothing, » you smiled. « Are you at the hotel now? », you asked. He just grinned making the curve on your face grow bigger.
« No, not now. »
« What about now? »
« Not yet, » he chuckled.
« Now? »
« Nope, » he shook his head. You took a deep breath eyes still focused on him.
« Okay... », you mumbled. « What about now? »
« Not yet! », Tim raised his voice letting out a silly sound. You squinted your eyes watching the sky being replaced by a beige-colored ceiling.
« Now? »
« Okay, yes, I’m in now. You can stop being annoying, » he brought his face close to the screen so that he was the only thing visible to you. Your smile made him beam back at you. « Hey, baby, I’ll have to turn off the video for a minute. » You frowned in confusion.
« Okay... », you said reluctantly as you stared at the black screen. « Is there something you don’t want me to see, Timo? » All you heard was him panting and the echo of his shoes clapping against the stairs.
« Maybe, » he chuckled but you narrowed your eyes curiously.
« What are you hiding from me? », you murmured, hearing him laugh through heavy breaths.
« You’ll see... »
You just stared at the ceiling, waiting for him to turn the video back on, but the sound of the doorbell caused you to frown in confusion. Your eyes turned to the door questionably.
« Someone’s on the door, » you mumbled sceptically.
« Are you waiting for anyone? », Timothée asked.
« No... », you shook your head trying to think whether you had invited anyone just to trick your loneliness and ended up forgetting it. « Okay, wait, I’ll call you in a sec- or maybe call me when you get back to your room. »
« ‘Kay, love you! »
« Love you, » you left the phone on the kitchen counter and slowly moved to the door while fixing your hair to look somewhat presentable.
Curious, you quickly grabbed the handle and peeked your head, before letting the door swing open. Your eyes snapped wide in surprise and you could feel your heart skipping beats and your mind going blank.
« You should really check on the eyehole first. » You stayed on the door frozen, a frown of shock drawn on your lips until your mouth hung open. You raised your eyes only to meet Timothée’s silly grin that brought back the smile on your face. « Surprise? », he opened his arms.
Without a second thought, you threw yourself in his arms, hugging him so tightly that he almost lost his balance and took a few steps backwards. The coldness that had taken over your body was replaced by such a lovely warmth. Timothée kissed the side of your head and laughed at your reaction.
« What are you doing here? », you asked, loosening your hands and letting them rest on his neck.
« Thought I’d surprise you, » Tim smiled back. You ran a hand through his hair, noticing that it had been cut quite a bit since he left, and then pressed a kiss on his mouth. « Finished early, » he tilted to catch your lips. « Missed your face. » His fingers held your cheeks as he leaned down so that his forehead could touch yours. You beamed, still in utter disbelief, before you intertwined your lips together. « I missed you, » Timothée murmured with a small laugh as he took you into one last hug.
« I can’t believe you’re here... », you just held him, until he released his arms and you took a step back. He chuckled watching your surprised expression and motioned his head to the door.
« Let’s get inside, » he beamed and you nodded, a huge grin forming on your face.
« Let me help you with that, » you bent down to catch his bag but he pulled it off your arms.
« No, no, it’s okay, baby. »
The apartment suddenly changed temperature and colours the moment he stepped inside. Everything missed him and everything was happy he was back.
You leaned on the door just watching him put his bags aside and take off his coat. His eyes wandered around to see if you had made any changes but you hadn’t. Timothée gave you a sneaky glance as he took off his shoes which only made you beam brighter.
You loved him and you missed him and you didn’t want him to leave you ever again. But you were still too shocked to react. Your brain was stuck still, couldn’t think of anything. It was like waking up from a dream, too stunned, too confused, too out of place and time.
He stood up to come over to you. You smiled warmly as he held your face and you rubbed your cheek on his palm to make sure this wasn’t just a fragment of your imagination. And when you did ensure yourself, you pressed a kiss on his skin.
« I was thinking about you every second of every day, » you murmured softly and then looked into his eyes as an afterthought, watching memories sneak out.
A sudden silence broke between you - not an uncomfortable one. It was just that silence spoke better words than you did.
His free hand brushed against yours and his fingers slyly tried to sneak into your palm, until the inside of your hands hugged one another and fingers tangled together. You hadn’t held hands in such a long time.
His smile slowly faded as his stare stayed on your lovesick honey look, hand tracing back the skin of your face. You raised your head until your noses brushed, his hot breath fanning over you, and you felt so soft, so calm and safe that you sank into happiness.
Timothée pressed his mouth to yours, closing the void that existed between and inside you. His tongue gently traced over your lips, awakening a sensation you hadn’t felt in a while.
Your arms looped around his neck and tugged him closer, his mouth moulding against yours. He felt your lips softer than he could remember and kissed you deeper, hungrier, nipping at your bottom lip and making your mouth part with a breathy sigh.
And as his scent travelled into your head, you started to lose control of yourself and you gave up truly and completely.
Timothée let his tongue slide inside your mouth, desperate to taste you, to feel your skin. His hands slithered down the curves of your body and held your hips so firmly that you could feel his thumbs clawing you.
A strained moan faded in the air. Your fingers fidgeted with the end of his hair, soft and silky, as your lips clashed, and grabbed a handful of those curls you had missed so much. And when he groaned and whined against your mouth, you found yourself losing control over your body, falling completely under his spell.
« Timmy, » you whispered as his head buried into your neck, pressing hot open-mouthed kisses against the skin. « Are you tired? » Timothée chuckled and shook his head.
« No... », his voice came out breathlessly.
« No? Are you sure? »
« Fuck yeah, I’m sure. »
Cool fingers that were dug under your shared t-shirt moved to the curves of your bottom and held your hips, pulling them up until your legs clawed around him and you gasped before letting out a small laugh that made him smile.
He couldn’t part his mouth from yours as if you were magnets that were impossible to separate - not until your back touched the mattress of your bed, your hair tangled in a terrible disarray, with chest heaving.
Tim panted heavily as he hovered above you, completely covering your shrill form. You leaned back on your elbows watching him with a glint in your eyes, taking off his t-shirt eagerly, before his mouth fell on your neck. His fingers searched for the hem of your t-shirt and tried to pull it up.
« Off, » he breathed out against your mouth, causing a wide grin to stretch on your face.
You brushed a hand through his hair and pulled the curls out of his face as he crawled in between your legs and pressed greedy kisses on your collarbones. His fingers moved up to cup your bare breasts making you gasp when he looked up at you with a sneaky smile and his kisses slowed in the line of your chest.
« Did I surprise you? », he mumbled, tongue touching your skin, making you gasp for air. His hands lined the curve of your waist as wet lips fell on your soft spots. Timothée pressed his lips lower and lower till they reached your belly before raising his gaze at you again. You closed your eyes and nodded. « Yeah? », he smiled sheepishly.
« Yeah, » you murmured.
You fiddled with his curls as he crawled lower, sliding down your pyjama shorts and tossing them somewhere on the floor. 
« Off, » Timothée murmured, biting his lips impatiently. Your eyes stayed on him until they fell on the silver necklace that was hanging around his neck and it used to belong to you. You just touched it.
Tim breathed a satisfied laugh as he let his mouth touch your skin, lips gradually falling down until his fingers traced your underwear and he chuckled against you. 
« Shit, » he mumbled glancing at you with a smile that made you grin through shaky breaths. « I missed you, » Timothée said. « I couldn’t wait to get back home to you. » Your heart nearly skipped a beat when he called your place his home too. He looked up at you. « Yeah, I mean it. » Your stare glued on him, unable to move away, watched the way he slid your panties down, off your legs and spoke soft words to you. « It had never been this long, » he parted your legs and kissed the inside of your thigh.
His mouth travelled to the apex of your thighs and you tried to hold onto your moans, reaching for his hair and tugging him closer. Tim grinned again, fingers hugging your waist and then your bottom. His lips wrapped around you, setting your body on fire and cutting your breath, while sucking and rolling his tongue inside you before one hand trailed down your skin and slowly replaced his lips. Fingers sunk deep into you, pushing past your folds, brushing and curling, making your mouth part open and your head fall back.
When he thrusted his fingers back in, your mouth fell agape in a silent scream, head light and nerves ablaze. Your body tensed as you jumped up in his hold and then fell, completely slack onto the bed. 
Timothée pulled his fingers out and leaned down until his tongue touched your folds; licked you, tasting you with a sharp inhale. He moaned against you at the sound of you breathlessly calling his name and he gripped your thigh sinking his fingertips into your skin.
If it wasn’t for his own ache that had almost brought tears to his eyes, he could’ve stayed between you for as long as you let him. But not being able to hold any longer, he pulled back to catch his breath, wiping his mouth with the back of his palm, and took off sweatpants and trunks altogether.
You watched him full of longing and pleading, with mouth gasping for air, before reaching over to replace his hand with yours around his throbbing erection that was already smeared with silver liquids. 
A blissed out expression was drawn on his face as his head tilted and his Adam's apple moved, struggling immensely to swallow the overflow saliva.
Timothée’s arms shook as he hovered above you, burying his head into your neck, and groaned as you slowly stroke him, squeezing at the tip and rolling your thumb through the slit.
« Fuck, » he panted. His eyes fell on your face, mind fogged with pleasure, as strangled moans and hushed gasps left his mouth agape. Your lips trembled watching him like this. You pressed your mouth on his, guiding him inside until he buried himself in you.
His jaw clenched, breath heavy, waiting for you with eyes closed. You kissed his jaw and his neck before cupping his face. That’s when his gaze fell on yours.
Your lips almost touched as he hovered over you, inches away, brushing the tender skin against each other, agape and wet. You breathed each other in, let the other inhale the air, the strained moans the one was eliciting from the other.
« My sweet boy, » you said with a smile and pulled back his dripping hair. « He’s back. » His lips twitched a curve upwards and eyes glanced away from you. Your thumbs tried to weep the drops of sweat off his chin and his nose, and you pulled his curls behind his ears to take a better look at him. Tim looked at you strained with a smile of effort and feverish red cheeks. « I missed those eyes, » you tented your head and pressed a kiss under his eye. « And that nose, » your mouth followed the curve, before your thumb brushed his lips. « And those lips… You’re so cute when you look away, » your hands caressed the skin behind his ears and then fell down on the nape of his neck.
« I missed being so close to you, » his eyes skimmed down your bodies. « You don’t know how much I wanted to be here. »
« You’re here now, » you kissed him and pulled him closer until your chests brushed against each other.
Timothée groaned in your ear as you glided your hands over his back caressing him slowly. You could feel his muscles pulling and flexing with every thrust, his body panting and his breath hot in you.
Your lips seared into every part of him they could find; lips, forehead, nose, hair, as his face dug into your neck, while whispering his name again and again like a prayer, like something holy.
He panted harder once you found rhythm and he slammed deeper into you, skin slapping against skin, harsher, and his hands tried to hold your face tenderly as he breathed against your cheeks and heard you moan the most soul capturing sound he’d ever heard when he hit that spot again and again.
« Fuck, Y/N, » you heard him rasp as the kisses became longer, lingering lower on your face till they reached your red-hot ear and you could hear him curse all sort of things.
Your shadows casted by the blinding lights of the sun loomed over you on the walls. The shadows danced, three times bigger, mirrored your every move forming a dark-figure painting over the walls of the apartment.
Moves that were full of reverence and strange carefulness turned sloppier and faster, until tremors shook your body, until you whined and pulled him impossibly close, until he as well reached the crest of his pleasure and in unison you climbed and lunged into the climax.
And you could feel yourself spasming around him as the desperately jolting of his hips gradually stopped. Eyes half-lidded, too heavy to lift them, too blissed out to control. Faces disfigured by throws of passion, contorted in an utterly beautiful, bordering on painful, grimace.
Timothée gulped and breathed heavily against your neck. His chest panting against yours as hot liquids ran between you.
« Fuck, » he gasped and you smiled while pulling his hair back.
Sweaty and a mess, you finally separated. He rolled off your chest, onto the bed, onto his back. Your stare seemed to be searching the ceiling, watching the sun breaking through the curtains. And he looked at you, twisted his soar neck and measured your naked form with utter acclaim and pride. Slowly, your breaths evened.
« Fuck that was good, » he pressed a sweet kiss on your neck.
« Welcome home. »
709 notes · View notes
sometimesanalice · 10 months
Text
In a Place Just Right
Summary: It's your first year hosting Thanksgiving in San Diego for the Daggers and Bradley can tell you're a little nervous about it. But he already knows it's going to be one for the books, because any holiday spent with you better than anything he could have imagined.
Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Female Reader
Length: 5K
Warnings: fluff and allusions to smut (minors dni)
(author's note: this fic is set in the 'Like I Can Universe', but can be read on it's own! Happy Thanksgiving, friends!)
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For the last six years Penny has been the one to host Daggersgiving, but this year hostess duties had fallen on your plate. Needless to say, Bradley knew you were more than a little stressed about it.
When you had asked him about his opinion on the merits of canned cranberry sauce versus homemade he’d blinked at you a few times before asking, “Is this a thing people care about?”
He’ll never forget how adorably aghast you looked to learn that he had no preference on the matter. And maybe if you had asked him when the sun was up instead of at 3 AM he might have known better than to give you such a noncommittal answer.
“Both, we’ll have both,” you’d stated resolutely.
“Whatever you want, kid," he’d murmured as he’d pulled you to his chest and wrapped an arm around your stomach. His smart and beautiful wife. "Now go back to sleep, you’re supposed to be dreaming of sugarplums not cranberries."
“Wrong holiday, Bradley,” you’d sighed contentedly, relaxing against him. And it hadn’t taken you long to fall back asleep with that cranberry crisis having been averted.
But now people were due to show up in less than an hour and you are frantically fluttering and huffing around the kitchen like a madwoman in a very pretty green dress, "I knew that quickie was a bad idea. You're never quick, Bradley."
He’d been away and missed many holidays over the years due to his career.
Your mom had always made it clear that he had an open invitation to join in whatever merry festivities were happening with your family, but more often than not it rarely aligned with him being stationed all over the world. But he’d always been happy to get to have a phone call with you and eat the homemade cookies you’d sent him on those years spent apart.
But now Bradley got to look forward to spending every holiday with you in the home you shared with him.
Over the last week the house had slowly but surely transformed into something that was straight out of a magazine.
There was a display of pumpkins, ribbons, and a garland of strung dried orange slices that decorated the fireplace. And overpriced candles from your favorite store flickered cheerfully on every surface that wasn’t a fire hazard to a bunch of enthusiastic Naval aviators. The dining table was dressed up to the nines and everyone spot with their names painstakingly written in your pretty script on a place card sitting in a pinecone.
You had even made some oversized confetti in the shape of oak leaves out of some old books, the copy of ‘Why Men Love Bitches’ that Nat had given him years ago as a joke was finally repurposed and recycled into something more festive over where the beverages had been set up.
The whole house smells amazing. Warm cinnamons and nutmegs mixing with bright citrus and rich vanillas. The kitchen island and countertops were filled with various plates and platters and bowls of dips, charcuterie, fruit and vegetables, nuts, and other savories. All the other dishes were being kept warm in the ovens for when everyone arrived and was ready to settle around the dining table for dinner.
Bradley was positive that no one would leave feeling hungry. He also wasn’t entirely sure where the things his friends are bringing were going to go, but there were worse problems to have.
Penny had taken Amelia with her to visit her family on the East Coast. They’d decided it would probably be better for Mav to hang back in San Diego for the holiday, those tensions with her dad were still a bit strained even though they’d been married for almost four years now.
Which is how the Bradshaw’s were hosting their first Thanksgiving for everyone.
This morning had been organized chaos. Some of the last minute-things had only managed to be checked off with the assistance of strong coffee and a good playlist.
However, he’d still managed to sneak in the opportunity to spin you around the kitchen to your wedding song when it came up on shuffle. After all the cranberries were still popping and boiling down; there was time for it, he'd always make time for it.
But that was then.
Now, you are glaring at him like you’d been personally victimized by him and his cock.
“You complaining, sweet girl?” he asks with a smirk, leaning his hip against the kitchen island watching as you briskly stir the gravy heating up in the copper sauce pot on the stove. “Don’t think that’s what I was hearing thirty minutes ago when we had that pretty green dress of yours bunched around your hips. Sounded something like ‘more, Bradley, more’ to me.”
You shoot him a look that would make a weaker man wither, but he’s built up an immunity to it over a lifetime of having it directed at him.
“I think that’s quite enough out of you,” you reprimand, but he sees the amusement in your eyes even as you fight to keep the annoyed fa��ade on your face. “We’re behind schedule now. I thought I buffered in enough time, just in case-”
“Just in case you begged me to give you an orgasm to, and I quote, ‘help me chill out’?”
“I was kidding,” you say, stopping your agitated whisking to go fluff the stuffing instead.
“All I’m saying is that if my beautiful wife is begging for me, I’m certainly not going to say no. I’m only human,” he says with an all too pleased shrug.
Bradley grabs the can opener and works on opening the canned cranberry sauce. He reaches for a couple plates, holding them up for your approval and you point to the one on the right, the scalloped white one with gold rim.
“For the record, I certainly did not beg,” you say primly, glowering into the homemade stuffing that you’d had him get the bread from the nice bakery across town for.
“Sure, sure,” he drawls, the smirk growing wider on his face as he sets to freeing the jelly from its rippled container.
He knows he shouldn’t tease you right now, but you’re so cute when you get huffy that he can’t help himself. He’s known that petulant raise of your chin his whole life. And sometimes when he looks at you he can so clearly see the little girl he’d been forced to entertain for hours when your moms were hanging out.
You went from being his favorite nuisance to his best friend to his everything.
“Do I still look ok? Or do I need to do a quick refresh before everyone gets here?” you ask. You turn to fully face him, tilting your head one way and then another for his inspection.
He would happily stare at you all day if you’d let him. He loves your pretty eyes and what you’ve done with your hair.
“You’re beautiful,” he grins, “And if anyone asks, we can just say you’re flushed from all the cooking.”
“Bradley,” you whine setting down your wooden spoon down on the counter with a sharp thwack.
“Ok, ok. I’m done, I promise,” he says putting his hands up in surrender with a chuckle.
He pushes off the counter and grabs a glass off of one of the floating shelves and fills it with some ice water.
“Good,” you tut haughtily, as you fiddle with the white and orange striped kitchen towel hanging on the oven door, “I was about to threaten to make you sleep on the couch tonight.”
“You wouldn’t.” Even the thought of it makes his stomach feel unsettled.
After nearly two decades of hard beds on foreign bases and on lumpy carrier mattresses, he’s never slept as well as he did since the two of you found your way to each other.
His peace was found under a fluffy green duvet on a wooden canopy bed with you tucked under his arm.
“No. No, I wouldn’t,” you agree, leaning in to place a soft kiss to his cheek in thanks when he presses the cold glass into your hands.
Bradley tugs you away from the warm stove and you reluctantly follow and sit on the barstool he’s pulled out for you on the other side of the kitchen island.
He runs his hand up and down your back comfortingly as you take a few sips, “We’re in a great place, sweet girl.”
“Mhm, yeah. Sure, of course.” You couldn’t sound less unsure if you tried. “It’s just… I’m nervous about the mushroom and leeks bread pudding. I’ve never made it before. And what if we run out of wine?”
“What’s been our motto?” he asks, taking over the helm at the stove whisking the gravy together as it begins to thicken.
“‘In Ina we trust’,” you say with a serious nod of your head. 
“Atta girl, we sure do. And Nat said she’s is bringing a few bottles she picked up from when she went to Napa, the good shit. It’s going to be great. Trust me,” he says giving you a warm smile. “Will it make you feel better to go over everything again?”
“Yes, please,” you say, anxiously drumming your fingers along the side of your water glass.
He’d stepped up where he could like making sure the house was pristine and cleaning up the yard by blowing off the wrinkled remainders of the yellow Tipuana flowers. He’d even been able to source and rent some more chairs to make sure that everyone would have a seat at the table.
Bradley wasn’t a schlump in the kitchen. He knew his way around a cookbook and a stove. His knife skills were pretty damn good too, if he did say so himself. But he also knew when somethings were out of his wheelhouse. So he’d taken to being your sous chef, and had taken to washing and prepping the ingredients for you so that all you had to do was toss them in whatever shiny pot they were destined for.
He even made his mom’s favorite pie. It had been years since he's had it, and he was excited to share it with everyone.
Your mom had mailed the copy of the original recipe she had that was written in Carole’s rounded, flourished script. You had made a photocopy of it to use so that the original didn’t get ruined, and then pointed out a spot on the wall where you said you’d thought it would look nice in a frame hanging in the kitchen. And he'd fallen a little more in love with you.
“Ok, hit me with it,” he says turning the heat to low for the gravy and putting the lid on.
This was a partnership through and through, he was going to give you all the support you needed.
“The turkey?”
Bradley picks up the fancy digital meat thermometer he’d bought for the occasion to check, “Big Bird has an hour and twenty more minutes to work on his tan and then he’ll rest for another thirty. Giving people time to graze and mingle and get some drinks in them, just like you wanted.”
You nod and hum contemplatively, “I’ve been thinking we need a salad. I don’t feel like we have enough vegetable options.”
He knows better than to point out that you’re currently snacking on snap peas from not one, but three, of the veggie platters the two of you had put together the night before.
“We’ve got the crispy brussels sprouts, the garlic and hazelnut green beans, and the honey glazed carrots with lemon. We’re more than fine on the fiber and beta-carotene. Michelle Obama would be proud, kid.”
That gets a little laugh from you.
“Well, as long as you think Michelle would be happy than we’re probably fine,” you say with a smile around your water glass that tells him you know exactly what he’s doing invoking your favorite First Lady.
“What else are you thinking about?” Bradley asks peering in the lower of their double ovens, where foiled covered dishes are lined up in perfect symmetry are warming away having been prepared in advance.
“Do you think two bags of rolls will be enough? Or should I text Mav and ask him to grab one more?”
He doesn’t miss the way your eyes dip down to his ass in his gray slacks. So he might linger as second longer than necessary to let you enjoy the view, since it’s for the female gaze and all.
He’s never understood wearing the most restrictive clothing on the holiday that involves the most eating, but that was Penny’s tradition to have everyone dressed in their nicest and you had insisted on keeping it going even if she was on the other side of the country.
You’d teased him earlier when you’d seen him emerge from the bedroom wearing the short-sleeved green cashmere polo you’d gotten him a couple years ago. It fit a little more snug that he remembered it, but he thought he still pulled it off well.
“When did we become the couple that matches?” you’d asked gesturing to your dress as you gave him an appreciative onceover.
If the past was anything to go off of, you would be running your hands over the soft material covering his chest and back all night.
“I just like reminding people who I belong with, sweet girl.”
He might have had something else in mind to wear for the evening before he saw you in that dress, had ironed the shirt the night before and everything, but last-minute pivot it was well worth it when you looked at him like that.
When he stands back up, he gives you knowing wink.
And in return you throw a baby carrot at him with a laugh.
Bradley isn’t surprised in the least to hear the quick clack-clack-clack of nails on the wood floors as their fluffy black and white Portuguese Water Dog rounds the corner. Having been summoned by the sound of food hitting the floor from where he had been dozing near the fireplace in the living room.
The carrot is gone in an instant and he comes to sit at Bradley's feet by the stove, looking up at him from under his curly eyebrows clearly hoping he'll get another snack.
“Nah, bud. You’re barking up the wrong tree over here,” he says leaning down to scratch his floppy ears.
“Ah, come here, Duck,” you croon, calling him over to your side of the island. “He’s so mean for a man who claimed he just saw God not too long ago, isn’t he?”
Bradley snorts and shakes his head at you amused.
He still doesn’t know how he ended up with a dog named Duck.
At the dog park, more often than not people mistook it for ‘Buck’. And you were usually off to the side more than happy to let him take the lead, biting your lip to keep from laughing at his less than enthusiastic expression when he’d have to warily explain yet again It’s Duck like quack.
You’re not even subtle about the piece of cheese you pull from the charcuterie board to feed him.
“I saw that,” he says, giving you a pointed lift of his eyebrow, “You know Bob is going to be spoiling him all night.”
“It was just a little piece of cheese. Plus, I don’t know who you think you’re fooling. I saw you go over there and deliver him his own little veggie platter with some of the leftovers we had while I was making the apple cider sangria.”
“That’s different, that’s good for him,” he says rounding the island, reaching over and snagging his own slice of cheese to snack on.
“And cheese is a protein. He’s just a baby, Bradley, what am I supposed to do? Not give him a piece of swiss?” You slide off your chair to squat down and rub Duck’s belly, you’ve always been his favorite.
“He’s almost five,” he replies flatly.
“A youth!” you exclaim, “He’s a growing boy.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Bradley says affectionately with a little roll of his eyes. He knows a losing battle when he sees one.
He offers you his hand to help you stand back up, but you wave him off and pull yourself up using the edge of the island. You take a moment to readjust your dress before making your way to the sink by the big windows that look out into the backyard.
“Speaking of Bob, do you know if he’s bringing his fiancée?” you ask from over your shoulder as you wash your hands.
“Not this time, sweetheart. I guess she volunteered to cover a shift in the NICU when she heard they were short staffed.”
“Oh that’s too bad, I was excited to see her ring in person,” you say drying off your hands and heading to the pantry.
“It’s all he can talk about at work. I guess they’re thinking about a Spring wedding next year. They don’t want to wait too long to get married.”
“I’m so happy for them,” you say, digging around for a moment and then emerge with a stack of some sturdy plastic plates and set them on the last free spot on the countertop. “Don’t let me forget to make them up a couple plates that he can bring home for her, before Fanboy declares it time for ‘second dinner’ and eats all the yams like he did last year.”
“I won’t forget, promise,” he says fondly.
If you were facing him, he knows you’d probably tease him for the look on his face and just how gone he is for you.
You’ve always been so generous, it’s one of the things that he loves most about you.
You were always good about hustling him out of his well-earned money from is part time job scooping ice cream in high school, like with the fundraiser you did for the local soup kitchen and the one for the elementary school summer arts program.
He’s always been wrapped around your finger, it just took him awhile to realize why.
It’s the same reason why there’s been a donation that comes out of his bank account every month for the last five years for one of the San Diego animal shelters.
Bradley had made a rather sizable donation and then set up a smaller reoccurring monthly one after the chaos that was the time Bob had set you up with his friend who worked at the shelter, back before the two of you had gotten together.
Even after all these years, he still can’t help but get a little irritated every time he sees that guy’s face in the monthly newsletter that comes to his email. He’s pretty sure Casey still might have a little crush on you, but Bradley can’t blame him. He’d have a hard time getting over you too, so it’s a good thing he’ll never have to.
On newsletter day, Bradley always finds himself giving Duck extra treats.
You are his wife. And Duck is his dog. Ridiculous name and all.
He couldn’t wait to surprise you with the golden tennis ball that the shelter sends out as a thank you after a decade of donations.
Only five more years to go.
You’re over by the bar that’s been set up off to the side, straightening the already very straight rows of gleaming wine glasses when he hears you suck in a sharp gasp.
Bradley drops the dish cloth he had in his hands as he attempted to give what little counter space there was left a final wipe down and is in front of you in half a heartbeat. Was there a fluke with some faulty stemware? Are you bleeding? There’s a reason Thanksgiving is one of the busiest days at the hospital.
“The butter!” you cry out as you whirl around, your pretty eyes welling up with tears, “I let you fuck me and I forgot to pull the butter from the fridge. It’s going to be too hard for people to spread now!”
He knows it’s more than just hosting jitters that’s got you like this, but it still catches him by surprise sometimes.
“Woah, woah,” he says as he catches you on the way to the fridge and pulls you to his chest, “C’mere, my sweet girl.”
You make a distressed noise but allow him to keep his hold on you, “But the butter…”
“I already pulled the butter, see?” He points to the sticks that are already softening away on the counter. “This place looks and smells amazing. We did good, baby. Will you take a couple slow breaths for me, please?”
Bradley takes in a couple measured breathes with you, and feels the moment your body relaxes into his.
He presses a kiss to the side of your temple as he smooths his hands down your soft, pretty green velvet dress and the warm, firm curve of your rounded stomach soothingly.
“Ugh, I’m sorry. It’s the hormones,” you sigh, as you lean your head back against his shoulder.
He hums empathically as he sways gently side to side with you in his arms.
“I would like to go on the record saying that I like pregnancy hormones, especially the ones from earlier,” he jokes lightly.
“That makes one of us,” you say with a watery laugh, “Just wait until I am waking you up at 4 AM because I am craving something from a drive-thru that’s not open.”
“Mm, can’t wait,” he murmurs before dropping a few kisses along the soft line of your jaw.
Bradley still can’t believe he gets to be this lucky in life.
He doesn’t want to forget a single moment of this. With you, with his family.
“We did a really good job with this one,” he whispers into your ear, still stroking your stomach and enjoying this moment of calm with you.
“We really did, da--” Bradley groans and cuts you off with a kiss. He can feel the impish smile plastered on your lips as he kisses you. His favorite menace.
He knows you’re pretty sure it was the spontaneous hook up in the storage closet at the Hard Deck on the Fourth of July that’s responsible for the noticeable bump you’re sporting. Call him a romantic, but he likes to think it was that night in the Bronco overlooking the ocean when he’d taken the long way back home.   
You pull away all too soon for his liking to grab his left hand. He sees the flash of the two diamonds on your engagement ring, one from his mom and one from yours, as you take it and press it to a spot near your bellybutton.
The feeling of the fluttering under his palm will never get old. He’s not too proud to say he’d shed a tear or two the first time he’d felt it.
You hum in contentment, your finger lightly tracing over the shiny gold band of his wedding ring.
Bradley lets himself bask in this moment as the two of you stand there in the kitchen of your dream house.
There are a few pops from the wood in the fireplace, the refrigerator is humming away in the background, and he can just hear the sounds of a melodic piano from the playlist he queued up earlier playing over the speaker.
Of all the delicious scents that waft through the house, the smell the floral and musk notes in you perfume is still his favorite.
There are times in the soft quiet of night, usually when you are asleep and his mind won’t quite settle, that he sometimes thinks he was put on this Earth to hold you.
It’s the only reason he can think of that explains why you fit so perfectly against his body.
Why his palms can fit so perfectly over your rounded stomach.
Why it’s his hands that you have trusted to protect your heart.
And he’s still holding you in the warmth of the kitchen when he hears the front door open.
Bradley knows he’s going to have to play host soon and he just wants to keep you in his arms for just a little longer.
“Hey kids, I brought the turkey,” Mav calls out from the entry.
You spin in his arms, looking at him wide eyed and confused as you two exchange a look. He presses one last kiss to your cheek before letting you go.
“Thought you were going to bring the rolls, Mav,” Bradley calls out just in time to see him round the corner.
Pete stands there proudly grinning holding a few bags of bakery rolls in one hand and a turkey in the other.
The sound of your delighted laughter makes his heart swell in his chest as he takes in the sight.
“Cooper Mitchell Ford Bradshaw, you are without a doubt the cutest turkey I have ever seen,” you gush as you go to greet Mav with a warm hug and a kiss on his cheek. Your son’s chubby arms reaching out for you.
Mav has dressed your almost two-year-old son in a soft, plush turkey costume that is complete with tailfeathers and a beak. He’s clearly a fan of the outfit too because he is grinning widely, showing of the more of the baby teeth that have come in over the last few months.
Mav had swung by early this morning to take him off your hands to get ready for Daggersgiving without chasing an almost-toddler around. While it was nice to have some time just the two of you while you got the place in order and took care of the last-minute things, like that homemade cranberry sauce, but he’d missed not having his son around.
The sweet sound of Cooper’s giggles and your coos fill up the kitchen as he watches you pepper his face with kisses. You bounce him a little and do a little spin, making the little boy laugh even more. The two of you in your own little bubble.
“You doin’ ok over there, kid?” Mav asks. A soft, knowing grin on his face as he sets the rolls on the counter to pull him in for a hug.
The two men had made their way back to each other over the last few years, just another thing that Bradley was grateful for in his life. The man had always been his father in everything but name. That is until he’d seen the man who helped raised him hold his son for the first time.
“Yeah, Dad,” Bradley says, clearing his throat a bit, “Everything’s perfect.”
From there it’s a flurry of activity as people start to arrive.
Nat comes with her longtime girlfriend and the extra bottles of the fancy Napa wine she promised to bring. Only handing it over once he promised to give her the name of the contractor the two of you had worked with and the exact shade of green that was used on the lower cabinets during your kitchen renovation.
Payback and Fanboy and their wives show up wearing oversized turkey hats on their heads each carrying a bakery box of pie.
Bradley isn’t surprised when Duck ditches the attention that Coyote was giving him the second Bob shows up with the famous Floyd family scalloped potatoes. Bob has always been a sucker for a pair of puppy dog eyes.
And in between checking on people’s glasses, swapping out empty appetizer trays for fuller ones, and making sure Jake doesn’t tamper with his perfectly cooked turkey, he’s got his eyes trained on you.
There are no words for the pride and love that washes over him every time he looks over and sees you with his son propped up on your hip and the way your pretty dress stretches around your growing family.
He had missed this stage of your pregnancy when he was deployed and you were pregnant with Cooper. He was determined to savor every second of this one. Every butter related freak out and every late-night milkshake run.
Being in his house surrounded with all the people he loves, minus a couple who are here in spirit, isn’t something he could ever take for granted. It’s more blessings than he ever hoped to receive in this lifetime.
You look over your shoulder at him and everything about the way you’re looking at him is picture perfect.
Your smile sunshine gold and just for him as you hold his gaze for a moment as time ticks on around the two of you. You send him a little wink before turning back to Mav who has his phone held up for a FaceTime call with Penny and Amelia.
Bradley sees his son peek his head up from where it had been nestled into your neck. Cooper grins when he sees him, his tiny hand reaching out for his dad. For him.
As he makes his way over to the two of you with his heart full, he makes a mental note to ask Mav later where he got that costume. He’s already planning on running out tomorrow to see if they have any more in stock now that it seems they have a new Bradshaw tradition on their hands.
He’s going to have three little turkeys running around this time next year and he couldn’t wait.
Twins.
Bradley sometimes still couldn’t believe it. When the tech has announced that you were cooking not one, but two future Bradshaw’s, his heart had nearly burst from his chest from the shock and joy. A gift from his late father’s side of the family.
Cooper and him were going to be outnumbered soon.
The two of you had found out earlier in the month that Everly Wren Bradshaw and Millie Lark Bradshaw were going to be the newest members to join your little family.
His girls.
It was an announcement the two of you were excited to share later tonight with everyone else when the slices of pies were being passed around.
He scoops up Cooper from you with one arm, dropping a kiss onto his little boy’s perfect curls as his small fist clutches as the soft fabric of his shirt. And then Bradley kisses the crown of your head as he wraps his other arm around you, his thumb stroking the swell of your belly.
With you- because of you- he gets to have it all.
The wife. The family. The house. The dog. The life. The dream.
He’s right where he wants to be.
He’s right where he’s supposed to be.
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Happy Thanksgiving! This was such a joy to write, thank you for reading!
It might not be Carole Bradshaw's famous pie, but it's one of my favorites! And who better to share it with than you! Cranberry-Lime Pie
If you haven't read the 'Like I Can' series you can read it here!
You can read my other stories here!
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