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#he turns into a kid again in front of his mother figures
onmyknees4loak · 1 day
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Teach me
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Lo'ak x Reader
Warnings: (Lowkey stalker and sub lo'ak) Synopsis : (Lo'ak cant seem to take his eyes off of the girl who teaches his nephew.)
Playlist I listened to while making this
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Reader's POV
"Good job muffin!!" Pxe'pe one of my youngest students finally gets her threading right. She runs off to show her mother.
I'm what Jake calls a babysitter but I like to think of myself as a teacher I mean that is what I do, people leave there kids with me while they attend to there duties and I teach them things like threading, scavenging, and even healing.
"miss miss miss" i hear a small voice from behind me and feel small hands on my leg, i turn around to be met with Kame'xar, one of my little ones.
"yes what do you need sweetie" i crouch down to be at his level
"i cut my finger" a little sob comes out as he holds his hand up, i see a small bright red cut nothing to serious but still it must hurt.
"oh no sweetie come on lets go fix that up for you" i extend my arms and pick him up, i start heading to the healing tent. i look down at his finger and as im looking away from in front of me i bump into a tall stiff figure. "Oh my eywa! I am so sorry" the figure turns around, i began to panic even more. The figure is Kame'xar's uncle.
"oh my goodness Lo'ak I apologize" i say hoping he wont notice the cut on his nephew's hand.
"oh no worries ...." he pauses trying to remember my name.
"y/n my name is y/n" i tell him.
"y/n... That's a beautiful name....Oh my god Kame'xar i didn't even notice you what's up bro, have you been crying what happened?"
He looks at me wondering what happened to his nephew,
"he cut his finger we were on the way to the healing tent to fix him up."
"oh well please let me walk you there its the least i can do" Lo'ak insists.
"I mean it is only right there but sure" we began walking to the tent which is already in sight.
Once we walk into the tent i set Kame'xar down on the floor and lower to my knees to grab the healing paste. I take his hand and gently rub the paste over his cut.
Kame'xar giggles "its c-cold!" he says in a fit of giggles.
"it is isn't it" i say laughing with him.
I can feel Lo'aks watching my every move. I stand up and turn around to Lo'ak.
"Well i should be getting Kame'xar back now." I feel Kame'xar put his now healed hand in mine and start pulling me to the opening of the tent.
"Thank you y/n, bye Kame'xar ill see you at dinner" lo'ak says waiting for us to leave.
"Bye" me and Kame'xar say at the same time.
As were walking I can't help but to keep thinking about Lo'ak everyone says he,s a bad influence and all he does is get in trouble but he seems so sweet and caring- ok y/n snap out of it he didn't even know your name and you got more important things to worry about.
Lo'ak's POV
'y/n.....y/n how have i never seen her around surly i would have noticed someone that beautiful. She's so different there's just something soothing and pleasant about her.
I walk out of the healing tent and start heading to our family tent,
Oh eywa i can't get that beautiful women out of my head. I need to see her again. I change my direction and start heading to where i know neteyam drops Kame'xar off every day. As i get closer i can hear the sound of children laughing getting louder, shes so good with kids. I hope to make her laugh like that one day.
I see my girl with kids running around her, there playing a game. I keep my distance and sit on a log where others are sitting and eating fruit.
I just sit there and watch her teach and play with the kids for hours. I turn away any time she looks in my direction hoping she doesn't realize that ive been sitting here for hours.
She would never want a guy like me an outcast.
Reader's POV
I finish putting up all the kids threading projects keeping them safe for tomorrow.
"Good Bye Vaylen! I'll see you tomorrow" now all the kids have gone home for the night, and i can start heading home. i turn around to start walking in the direction of my tent when i see Lo'ak sitting looking at me when he realizes I'm looking at him he turns his head the other way. Now that i think about it he has been sitting there since i got back from the healing tent.
'Should i go talk to him?' i ask myself 'I should.'
I start walking over to him with a smile on my face, he notices me coming over and i can see his body tense up.
"Hey Lo'ak what are you doing here?" i come to a stop in front of him.
"Oh i w-was ju-just uh chillin yk" he stutters over his words.
'my god, he's so cute, i want him stuttering over his words while i ride him' omg! what the fuck is wrong with me why would i think that.
I think he could tell i just got surprised with myself.
'y/n? Are you okay?" he asks as he stands up getting closer to me.
I can feel the tension in the air as his face is suddenly a few inches from mine.
"Yeah im good" i see his eyes move down to my lips as he licks his own.
He leans in intel our lips meet and he begins kissing me, i kiss back and start getting a little more aggressive i bring my hand to the back of his head and put my fingers through his hair lightly pulling.
"mMm" Lo'ak lets out a whimper/moan.
I pull away and bring my hand down " i cant do this Lo'ak im sorry" i look down to my feet.
"Why not baby?" he asks pushing hair behind my ear.
"What would people think if they found out, im not trying to be mean but your kinda know as a bad boy yk, and i dont want people to not trust me with there kids im sorry"
I turn around to leave and i feel him grab my hand and pull me back.
"Then Teach me, teach me how to be a good boy"
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greenbloods · 7 months
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sure sure tywin lannister dead the rot is decaying around their ears but look at them. 5 paragraphs in and i fully believe theyve been aunt and nephew for over 30 years.
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daycourtofficial · 5 months
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A Bite Sized Romance
Summary: you offer to make dinner for Azriel, but he gives you half-assed reasons as to why he can’t make it.
Author’s note: I love love love this idea it’s been floating around my head for a LONG time 💕
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“Have you ever had ratatouille?” You ask Azriel, taking a bite of the dish in front of you.
Every Thursday, you and the shadowsinger go out to a different restaurant, usually in Velaris, occasionally in other courts. Seeing the shadowsinger could be difficult during the week, especially with your busy schedule, so you two set aside Thursday nights to eating dinner together.
Your brain had a hard time understanding that these were not necessarily dates, even though that is exactly what Cassian, Mor, the whole IC, and even Azriel and yourself call them.
“No, what’s rat patootie?” He says, taking a bite of his pasta.
“Ratatouille,” you correct, sighing wistfully, “it’s a traditional dish my mom used to make when I was a kid. I don’t think annyone in Velaris makes it. This dish kind of reminds me of it, but it’s not the same.”
You sit up, a smile stretching across your face. “Maybe next Thursday I’ll cook it for us. It’s so much better homemade - what do you say?”
He stills at your words, almost choking on his food. Through coughs he tells you, “surely there’s somewhere we can go for it, I wouldn’t want to trouble you with cooking.”
“But I like cooking,” you object. “And despite the copious amounts of meals we’ve shared together, I don’t think I’ve ever cooked for you.”
He doesn’t want to budge, so you pull out the big guns.
You pout your lip, making your eyes look as sad and endearing as possible, “please, Az? It reminds me of being a kid again. And I’d love to share that with you.”
Mother forsake him, he couldn’t say no to your sad, puppy dog eyes.
“Fine,” he grumbles, sure he’ll figure a way out of it before Thursday comes. Perhaps he could find a way to get impaled.
You squeal, “oooh you’re going to love it!”
-
Thursday was fast approaching, and Azriel was trying to use every excuse in the book to keep this dinner from happening. He told you Rhys had to send him on a mission that night, which you immediately turned around and went to Rhys’s office and asked him to send someone else.
Rhys, having no idea what you were talking about, sees Azriel in the doorway who tells him mind to mind, “come on, say you have to send me.”
Rhys sends the equivalent of a smirk to Azriel mentally and tells you, “my mistake, I didn’t realize what day I was telling him to leave.”
Azriel stood in the doorway and gave his brother the finger from behind you.
Azriel made excuses, all ranging from Cassian needing help with training, Feyre needing an escort to the Hewn City, even to Mor needing help with the upkeep of the horses in the guard. Every excuse was denied by his so-called family, not allowing him to use them as scapegoats. It was starting to make you suspicious.
Thursday morning after Azriel’s last ditch attempt to get out of the dinner, involving some excuse about Eris needing rescuing, you sigh, exasperated.
“Okay Az, it was just an idea. Clearly you don’t want to do it, so just.. don’t bother, okay? Go save Eris from whatever it is that’s attacking him.”
You turn, wanting to leave the kitchen before Azriel sees how much this actually upsets you. “That’s not-“ he starts, trying to grab you as you pass him, but you wriggle from his grasp, disappearing into the hallway up to your bedroom.
Az was sitting on the kitchen counter, wallowing in self-pity over how poorly he handled that situation, when Cassian walked in.
“And what do you have to be so upset about, pretty boy?”
Azriel lifts his head, looking at Cassian eating a stupid banana. Gods, he wanted to throttle him. “Oh no, I’m Azriel and a beautiful woman wants to cook me dinner, even though I eat dinner with her most nights and have weekly dates with her even though I deny anyth-“
Cassian stops, taking a bite of his banana. He looks up, and realization dawns on him.
“Oh my gods,” he says, his mouth full of banana. Azriel decides to play the denial game, because surely Cassian did not figure out the secret he’s kept guarded for several months while eating a fucking banana.
Cassian looked at him, turning to look up the stairs where you had left just a few moments ago, “you two?”
Azriel rolls his eyes, “we’re friends, yes.”
Cassian rolls his eyes even harder. “I’m not an idiot. You follow her around like a pitiful puppy,” he says, coming closer to his brother, “you two eat just about every meal together, but the one day she offers to cook for you suddenly you can’t find time for her?”
Cassian narrows his eyes at Azriel, “you ashamed of her or something?”
Azriel’s eyes widen, not only at Cassian’s question that he could ever be ashamed of you, but also at Cassian’s change in demeanor.
Cassian slips into the protective big brother role when it comes to you quite easily, Azriel thinks as Cassian puffs out his chest while he strides over to stand next to Azriel.
“Now why on earth would I be ashamed of her?”
Cassian inspects Azriel for a second before asking, “then why haven’t you told her?”
He pauses, then asks, “how long have you known?”
Azriel huffs, “known what?”
“That she’s your mate.”
Azriel stills at Cassian’s words. They liked to poke fun of Cass, calling him a dumb brute, but Cassian was no fool. If any member of his family were to discover his secret, it would be Cassian.
Azriel looks at him, “a few months. I’ve been… waiting.” He sighs, “I keep wanting to tell her and then I psyche myself out. Once I tell her, things will be… different.”
Azriel hates how quiet his voice becomes as he says, “what if she is ashamed of who the mother picked for her?”
Cassian’s chest deflates, all sense of protectiveness over you gone and replaced with protectiveness over his brother.
“Then she’d be a fool.”
Looking down, Azriel watches as Cassian’s foot gently nudges his own, a silent request from Cassian for him to look up.
“There is no way she would ever be ashamed of you or be upset that you’re her mate.”
The way Cassian is looking at Azriel makes him want to shy away, but Cassian keeps his gaze steady, almost locking Azriel’s eyes into place.
“I’d be willing to bet she has journals full of doodles where she draws little hearts with your names in it, and she also writes “Mrs. Shadowsinger”
The rise in octave in his brother’s voice causes a laugh to burst out of him, but Cassian continues.
“I once tried to sit next to you for a meal and I’ve never seen anyone move as quickly as she did to claim her seat. Honestly, this will come as a shock to no one.”
Azriel looked back up at his brother to find him already looking at him, a soft gaze grazing his face.
“We’re happy for you two.”
Azriel scoffs, “I take that to mean you’ve already told Rhysand?”
Cassian starts walking away, going to pick up the remainder of his banana. “Oh yeah, we’ve had a bet for about a year now. Rhys thought the bond had snapped for her, but I knew it would be you. You’ve made me a much richer man, Az.”
Cassian bows in thanks, ducking out the door as Azriel throws a different banana towards the space he was occupying.
-
You had been sulking in your room for what felt like hours after Azriel’s latest rejection. You spent the whole time flipping between thinking about all the little moments that had you swearing there was something happening between you two, and each and every excuse he had made to get out of this dinner.
Was your cooking that bad? Was he tired of you taking up every one of his Thursday nights?
The two of you spent an absurd amount of time together - you ate most meals together at the house, you saw each other multiple times every day. Were you wrong?
A knock on the door pulls you from your thoughts, but before you can respond, the door is opening and Cassian pokes his head in. He has a hand covering his eyes, but he’s made a slit between his middle and ring fingers, allowing him to still see.
“Are you decent?” He asks, looking around the room.
He sighs at seeing you dressed on your bed, pulling his hand away from his face as he walks in, closing the door behind him.
You giggled, “Cass the whole point is to not see someone naked.”
He rolled his eyes as he plopped down next to you on your bed, “you don’t even want to give me a peak? I’ve had such a hard day, a little skin would make me feel better.”
You laugh, picking up a pillow and hitting him with it. He lets you hit him, pretending to fall dramatically onto his back.
“Tell Rhys I loved him,” he sighs dramatically, pretending to die.
You laugh at his foolish antics, but Cassian continues to pretend he’s dead. You lean into him, about to poke his face, when he grabs your waist, hoisting you over his shoulder.
“Now come on, I’ve got shopping to do and I need your help.”
-
After Cassian had left, Azriel spent some time trying to decide how he could make this up to you. He didn’t want to force you into accepting a bond that you didn’t know about by presenting him with food.
He paced his room, his long legs gliding across the wooden floors making no noise. His shadows were combing through the house, trying to find out where you had gone after your earlier spat.
Azriel replaced with pacing with purposeful steps as he headed towards his bedroom door, the perfect solution coming to him.
-
“Thank you Cassian,” you say, squeezing his arm your hand was tucked into.
“For what? My incredibly charming presence?” He smirks down at you.
You scoff, “I felt awful earlier but you pulled me out of my spiraling, thanks.” You say, nudging him a bit.
Cassian had gotten you out of your room and the two of you walked around Velaris, mostly people watching and talking.
He hums, “well, both of my brothers are idiots,” he says, getting a laugh out of you. “They take turns on who holds the idiot stick. Today it’s Azriel.”
“Do you ever hold the idiot stick?”
“Occasionally, very rarely, I will pass it between the two of them, so I only have it for a moment or two.”
You snort, looking down at your feet. If Cassian thought Azriel was being stupid, does he see what you see?
You start to ask him, to prod him for more answers about Azriel, when he pats your hand, turning your attention to where the two of you had ended up on this walk.
The townhouse.
Your brows crease in confusion as Cassian removes your hand from his elbow, pats your shoulder, and tells you to have a good night.
You start to sputter, wanting to know why you’re here. He shrugs, “I don’t question my orders.” He gives you a two finger salute before turning around and walking away.
You turn back around, looking at the entrance to the townhouse, afraid of what you’ll find on the other side of the door, but going up and knocking anyway.
The door opens, but no one is there. A small shadow swirls around you, moving up from your feet to your face, caressing your cheek before zipping off to the kitchen.
You step through the threshold and a new shadow comes and shuts the door, another two come and help you take your coat off and hang it up for you.
You walk towards the kitchen, where you can hear the clattering of plates and some delicious aromas filling the whole house. Inside the kitchen you find Azriel, with a frilly apron tied around his waist, putting the finishing touches on two plates at the table.
“What’s all this?” You ask him, doubt creeping in that this isn’t meant for you.
“Sit, sit,” he beckons, pulling out a chair for you. You look around the room, covered in flickering candlelight and flowers. He must have been working on this for hours.
You look down at your plate, the bright colors of ratatouille catching your eye. You gasp, wanting to know how much effort he went to find a recipe for it.
He takes off the apron, sitting across from you.
“I… made an ass of myself, and I’d like to apologize first and foremost for that.” You open your mouth to interrupt him, but he holds up a hand. “Let me finish, I have.. a lot to tell you.”
He takes a deep breath, stilling his nerves. You look so pretty in the glow of the candles, and the slight concern you’ll hate him is enough to distract him, but he has to tell you this.
“There’s a reason I didn’t want you to cook for me. A few months ago we were in the library, reading, and I looked up and I watched you tuck your hair behind your ear, laughing at something in your book and I.. felt it.”
You’re in a trance, listening to him speak.
“I felt like I was dying and coming back to life, like your hand was wrapped around my heart, squeezing in time, keeping it beating. I made up some half-assed excuse to leave, because I needed to talk to Rhys.”
You looked at him, hoping your gaze would encourage him to continue.
“Rhys confirmed what I thought it was - the bond snapping. And I was terrified.”
He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I was terrified if I told you, you’d deny the bond, you’d break my heart. So I… put off telling you. I couldn’t.”
He looks down at his lap, fidgeting his fingers.
“I kept trying to tell you, then I’d chicken out. Then when you offered to cook for me, I couldn’t let it happen. I couldn’t let you accidentally accept the bond, accept me without knowing about it.”
He sighs, “I felt awful when I realized you thought I was rejecting you. Far from it. So I’ve uh.. made you dinner.”
You finally speak, “you made me dinner.”
“I made you dinner. And dessert, actually.”
Leave it to Azriel to outdo himself by finding the time to make dessert.
You weren’t letting a single emotion show on your face, and it made a shiver run up Azriel’s spine.
After what could have been hours, you slowly smiled, looking at him, “what kind of dessert did you make?”
He pauses, “I uh made you- us, uh chocolate mousse. I made two, but I thought we could share one.”
He looks at you, still not giving anything away, “if you want to, of course.”
He shifts, your silence making him uneasy.
“If you don’t want to accept it, I understand. I kept it from you, and I’m me, loving me would be rotten work- what are you doing?”
In the middle of his rambling, you picked up your fork, getting a nice helping of food on your fork, bringing it up to your mouth.
“Well, my mate made me dinner, and it looks incredible. Why would I not want to take a bite?”
He looks at you, a rush of emotions flooding him. Surprise, confusion, elation.
“But, but I can promise you to love me, to be my mate, it’s rotten work.”
You smile, “not to me it’s not.”
You pause, “not if it’s you,” and take a bite.
His chest sings, feeling warmth radiating throughout him. Feeling love radiate through him, and he realizes that’s you.
You keep eating the food, that hum getting louder and more vibrant, until you’ve cleared your plate, and stride over to him.
You grab his face in your hands, tilting his head so he’ll look into your eyes. “If you think I am not aware of who you are, what you do, your darkest parts, you are mistaken. And if you think I will shy away from those things, you are a fool.”
He hadn’t realized he was crying until you swiped your thumb across his cheek, swiping it away.
You smile down at him, and he has never felt so loved, so whole as he does in this moment. His mate, the one person the cauldron deemed would understand him, just chose him.
He feels like that little boy, looked in the dungeon, daydreaming about being saved by an angel. And he has.
He stands up, cupping your face in his hands, “I was in love with you before the bond snapped for me. I’m not here just because the cauldron told me to be, let me assure you that.”
You smile, a heat creeping up your cheeks. “I’m only here for the chocolate mousse.”
He laughs, a genuine, roaring laugh.
You pull his face in close to yours, gazing into his eyes. “And I have been in love with you since the day after I met you.”
His eyebrows shoot up, “the day after?”
You smile, “well I thought I was in love with you that first day, but then on that second day I heard you speak, and I knew no one would ever compare.”
You feel his happiness in your chest, as if his heart is also in your ribcage, yours and his intertwined, dancing through your chest together.
“Can I kiss you?” He asks, his mouth so close to your own your breaths are intermingling.
You smile at his thoughtfulness, his hesitation.
“Only if you promise to never stop.”
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pathologicalreid · 3 months
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occupational hazard | S.R.
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You and Spencer have a discussion about the dangers of his job.
who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: plot discussions from 9x23 (angels) and 9x24 (demons), canon compliant injuries, crying, established relationship word count: 1.23k a/n: thought of this while i couldn't sleep after watching the season 9 finale. also its me. I'm the crier.
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Your mother always said you had a problem with staring. In the grocery store as a kid, she would pull you to the side and tell you that you were being rude. It always confused you because you didn’t think it was possible to be rude without speaking.
Spencer never seemed to mind your staring, he’d ask if everything was alright, but he never really asked you to stop or told you off.
So, while he was over at your apartment, sitting on the couch grading papers, you just stared at him. You studied how his hair fell in front of his face as he scrawled on the printed paper, and how he set his jaw when he noticed a mistake. Your brows furrowed when you noticed a small scar on the side of his neck, a confused noise escaped your throat.
That got his attention, “What’s wrong?” He asked, matching your furrowed brows before setting his pen down.
Cocking your head curiously, you leaned forward to try to look at his neck, “What is that?” You whispered. It was an old scar, so you could only really notice it when the light hit it just right.
“What is what?” He asked, looking behind him and on his shirt like he was looking for a spill.
Gently, you reached out your hand and touched the scar with your fingertips. “Where did you get this scar?” You couldn’t believe you had never noticed it before – the two of you had been dating for more than half a year.
He reached up his hand and met yours, intertwining your hands together, “On a case in Texas.”
Your lips parted slightly as you looked at the scar again. “How did you get that scar on a case in Texas?” You asked, even though you were fairly certain you knew the answer.
Turning, Spencer set all of the papers on the side table before he turned back to face you. “I was shot in the neck,” he answered almost a little too calmly. As if it was just another day in the office, and maybe it was to him.
It certainly wasn’t to you. “What do you mean you got shot in the neck?” You asked, your voice was high and reedy with panic. Fear settled in your chest on behalf of a version of your boyfriend you didn’t even know.
“Hey, hey,” he said in an attempt to calm you down. “I’m okay, this happened almost five years ago, love. I’m fine,” he said, cupping your cheeks with both of his hands.
Your eyes were still wide, like deer in the headlights wide, and you nodded despite yourself. “That’s so scary, Spence,” you whispered as emotion burned in your throat. You knew he worked for the FBI and had for a long time. You knew he had been in love with a girl who was killed in front of him – that’s why he was so protective sometimes. You knew he had been in prison for three months for a crime he didn’t commit – that’s why he taught classes for thirty days. This was the first thing you had figured out – you had told him to tell you everything in his own time.
For a moment, he watched you like he had something he wanted to say but wasn’t sure where to start.
You sat on your heels and retracted your hands from his neck, “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to pry I just… I saw the scar.” Awkwardly settling your hands in your lap, you sighed. “You’re right, it was a long time ago.”
“Wait, what just happened?” He asked dumbfoundedly.
Shrugging, you settled into the couch cushions. “I just saw the scar and I was curious,” you whispered as your eyes burned. “I didn’t… I just mean you don’t owe me an explanation.”
Reaching into your lap, Spencer took one of your hands in his, gently skimming the pad of his thumb over your knuckles. “You can always ask, it’s a fact that my job is dangerous,” he told you softly. “Getting hurt is an occupational hazard. It was never my intention to make you feel like you can’t ask me questions about… Why are you crying?”
You wiped furiously under your eyes at the tears that had flooded your eyes, “because you got shot.”
“You’re crying because I was shot five years ago?” He asked in bewilderment, his tone wasn’t belittling, he was genuinely surprised at your reasoning.
Nodding, you pressed the heels of your hands into your eyes in an attempt to stop your tears. “I am a crier; I cry at everything. Please don’t read into this,” you pleaded, embarrassment flooding your cheeks.
Gently, Spencer pried your hands away from your face, “Please don’t cry. I hate seeing you cry, and I don’t know what to do.”
You shook your head, and your bleary eyes met his, “Really, Spence, I’m fine. I’m just a crier, okay? Sad, happy, mad, I cry.” You looked up at the ceiling light and sniffled, fanning your face in an attempt to dry it off.
He was staring at you, “You are quite possibly the sweetest human being I have ever met.” Spencer reached out and pulled you to him, “Look at me.”
Begrudgingly, you looked at him. “How many times have you been shot?”
“I’m not answering that until you stop crying,” he said, sweeping your hair behind your ears.
That answer did absolutely nothing to comfort you. Huffing, you pressed your lips into a thin white line, “I’m fine,” you whispered, “I’m just crying.”
Spencer smiled at you, “That is an oxymoron, and you know it.” His smile faded, “I’ve been shot three times.”
“Oh my god, Spencer,” you said, dropping your head to his shoulder.
He hummed softly, turning his head to press a kiss to your temple, “Once in the knee, once in the arm, and once in the neck. Please don’t cry.”
You nodded into him, “Yeah, you’re… you’re okay now, right?”
“I’m fine, sweetheart,” he whispered. “Is there anything I can do to help you feel better?” He asked softly, running his hands along your back.
You bury your face in the crook of his neck, “I love you,” you whispered.
His movements falter for just a moment, “I love you too.”
Pulling away and wiping your eyes, “You should finish grading those papers,” you whispered to him, moving away.
Instead of letting you go, Spencer pulled you closer, “I’ll finish tomorrow. I want to be here with you now,” he responded softly. “Are we okay?”
“Your job scares me,” you answered candidly, “but we’re good. We’re great.”
He nodded self-assuredly, “I can’t change the job, but you could meet my team if you wanted to. Maybe meeting them would make you more comfortable with me going out into the field,” he offered. “And maybe I could…” his voice trailed off as he mumbled something else.
Tilting your head curiously, you hummed in an attempt to prod at him, “Maybe you could what?”
“I could make you my emergency contact. If that’s something you’re comfortable with,” he said. “I’ve never really had anyone to add, but I’m sure Emily wouldn’t mind.”
You smiled softly at him, grateful for every bit he let you in, “I would be honored. Just don’t have any emergencies.”
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dreamescapeswriting · 12 days
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Stray Kids Reaction | Your Pregnant And Scared
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⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - April 2024
⤜MASTERLIST
CHAN:
You sat at the doctor's office staring at anything but your boyfriend right now, you and Chan sat nervously, holding hands as you waited for the results of the pregnancy test. Your heart raced with fear, and your mind was consumed by a whirlwind of emotions. When the doctor finally entered the room, your hands trembled as you braced yourself for the news. 
"Congratulations," the doctor said with a warm smile. "You're pregnant." Just like that it was like the whole world had frozen in place, pregnant? You and Chan had been so careful and yet you'd still managed to end up knocked up. Your initial shock quickly gave way to a flood of emotions, it was like you felt everything all at once. Tears welled up in your eyes as she glanced at Chan, who wore a mixture of joy and concern on his face. Chan had always told you he wanted to be a father but the two of you had only been together for two years, it was still too soon for you to have a baby.
As you left the doctor's office, your mind raced with worry. Were you even ready for this? What if you were a bad mum? What if you couldn't bond with the child?
"What are we going to do?" You whispered, your voice quivering. "I'm not ready to be a mother. What if I'm not good enough? What if I mess up?" Chan stood in front of you, holding your face in his hands and forcing you to look at him.
"Hey, we'll figure this out together," he reassured you. "You're going to be an amazing mum. I have no doubt about that." He whipped, his thumb wiping away one of the tears that was rolling down your cheek, you sniffled a little, still not able to shake your fears. The weight of responsibility felt overwhelming, and the thought of becoming a parent filled you with doubt. What if you couldn't provide for your child? What if you made mistakes that would affect their future?
"I just want to be the best mom I can be," you admitted, your voice shaking nervously as you stared at him, you didn't want to seem as though you didn't want a family with Chan, you did, but you were terrified.
"Hey, I'm scared too...Okay? I want to be the best dad ever," He chuckles, slowly wiping your face again before looking at you with unwavering love and support.
"You already are," he said gently. "And together, we'll learn and grow every step of the way. We'll make mistakes, but we'll also share countless moments of joy and love. And no matter what, we'll always be there for each other and for our child." You swallowed the lump in your throat as you stared at him, 
"You're going to be an amazing mother, I've seen the love an care you give to everyone around you/ You're already a wonderful person, and you'll be an incredible mum too." He whispered before kissing you softly, you nodded a little. Your fears were still bubbling in the back of your mind but they were easing up little by little.
MINHO:
Minho sat beside you on the bench in the back garden, carefully wrapping a blanket around your shoulders as he placed a warm mug in your hand.
"You've been out here for a while, you okay?" He questioned, his eyes staring into the side of your head while you stared down at the floor. Minho knew you only came out here when there was something bothering you,
"Minho," You began, your voice trembling with nerves, you'd been torturing yourself all morning trying to come up with a way to tell him everything.  
"There's something I need to tell you." Minho turned to you, his eyes sparkling with love, he'd missed hearing your voice all day. 
"What is it, baby? You can tell me anything." You knew that, you loved that you could tell him everything it was something that made your relationship work. There were no secrets between you, everything was out in the open. Taking a deep breath, you met his gaze. 
"I... I think I might be pregnant." You'd been dreading telling him ever since you thought you'd gotten pregnant. The two of you had been together for a year but the topic of children had never come up, you didn't even know if he wanted kids, or if you wanted them. Minho's face broke into a wide grin. 
"Really? That's amazing, YN! I've always wanted to be a dad." You wanted to be as excited as him but your heart sank as you saw the excitement in his eyes. You swallowed hard, fighting back tears. 
"I know, Minho, but I'm scared. What if we're not ready for this? What if I can't handle being a mother?" Minho reached out, taking your trembling hands in his.
"Hey, we'll figure it out together, okay? We'll make it work. And we have each other; we're not alone in this." You nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. 
"I love you, Minho." You whispered, your eyes finding his as you relaxed a little.
"I love you too, Em," He replied, pulling you into a tight embrace.
"And I promise, we'll face whatever comes our way, together." At that moment, as the stars began to twinkle in the evening sky, you felt a glimmer of hope amidst your fear. With Minho by your side, you knew that you could handle anything life threw your way.
CHANGBIN:
Changbin stumbled upon something unexpected while rummaging through the bathroom cabinet for a new roll of toilet paper, he was still new to your place and hadn't figured out where everything was just yet. But tucked away in the corner, hidden beneath a pile of towels, was a pregnancy test, a positive one. His heart skipped a beat as he picked it up, his mind racing at the thought of you being pregnant with his child. 
He hesitated for a moment before making his way to the living room where you were waiting for him.
"Hey, baby" he began tentatively, his voice betraying the unease he felt. You looked up, your brow furrowing in confusion at the serious expression on his face, you didn't think you'd ever seen him look so serious.
"What's wrong?" You asked, setting your book aside and making space for him on the sofa with you, Changbin clutched the test behind his back. He didn't want you to think he had been rummaging through your stuff.
"I found something," He said quietly, holding out the pregnancy test for you to see. Your eyes widened in alarm as you glanced at the test in his hand. Your hands trembled as you reached out to take it, your heart pounding in your chest. 
"I... I can explain," You stammered, your voice so shakey you didn't even recognise it yourself. Changbin watched as tears welled up in your eyes, your bottom lip quivering with emotion. 
"yn, what's going on?" he asked gently, his concern growing with each passing moment. If you were pregnant, why did you hide it from him? You took a deep breath, struggling to compose yourself as you met Changbin's gaze. 
"I... I think I might be pregnant," you admitted, your voice barely audible over the rush of emotions coursing through you, it was clear you were since the home test was positive but you were still waiting for a doctor's appointment. After all, at-home tests were wrong sometimes.
Changbin felt his heart lurch at your words. He moved to sit beside you on the couch, wrapping his arm around your shoulders in a gesture of comfort. 
"Hey, it's going to be okay," he whispered, his voice filled with reassurance and confidence, almost making you believe him. But you couldn't shake off the overwhelming sense of fear that gripped you, that had gripped you for days since you'd taken that test. It wasn't that you didn't want a family with him but you were terrified.
"I'm scared, Binnie," you admitted, tears streaming down your cheeks as you finally admitted it out loud and not just to yourself. Everything about pregnancy scared you, what if you ate something you shouldn't? Or did something wrong when you were carrying your child? 
"I don't know if I'm ready to be a mother. What if I mess up? What if I can't handle it?" Changbin tightened his embrace, holding you close as he brushed a gentle kiss against your temple. The thought of being a father scared him but it also excited him, but he didn't want you to go through any of this alone. 
"You don't have to have all the answers right now, Yn," he murmured, his voice filled with love and understanding. 
"We'll figure this out together. And no matter what happens, I'll be right here by your side, every step of the way." You buried your face in his chest, you felt a glimmer of hope budding inside of you as you nodded a little. 
"You'll never be alone, throughout all of this I will be here," He promised you, kissing your temple once again.
HYUNJIN:
"Yn, is everything okay in there?" Hyunjin called out, his voice tinged with nervousness. You'd been in the bathroom for almost twenty minutes now and he was starting to wonder if he should call a doctor or bust the door down to come and check on you. But he was met with silence from you, he pressed his ear to the door and listened for any sign of life when he heard you sniffle.
The door creaked open, and Hyunjin's eyes widened in surprise as he saw you sitting on the edge of the bathtub, a pregnancy test clenched tightly in your hand. Excitement erupted inside of him at the thought of starting a family with you but his excitement quickly turned to concern as he noticed tears streaming down your cheeks, your face etched with worry.
"Yn, what's wrong?" Hyunjin asked, rushing to your side and kneeling in front of you, his heart pounding with fear. 
"Did... did the test come out positive?" The tears only streamed harder at his question and you nodded, your voice trembling as you stared at him, you struggled to speak through your tears. 
"Yes, but... but I'm scared, Hyunjin," You admitted, your hands trembling as you handed him the pregnancy test. His heart sank as he saw the two lines on the test strip, confirming your fears. But despite the shock of the news, he couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement at the prospect of becoming a father. However, seeing your distress, his own excitement was quickly overshadowed by concern for your well-being.
"Hey, hey, it's okay," He murmured, pulling you into his arms and holding you close. 
"I know this is unexpected, but we'll figure it out together, okay? We'll take things one step at a time." He told you reassuringly, the two of you had only been together less than a year, it was too soon for this. You couldn't shake off the overwhelming sense of fear that consumed you. 
"I... I think it's too soon," You confessed, your voice quivering with uncertainty. 
"I'm not ready to be a mother. Are you ready to be a dad? What if I can't handle it? What if we're not prepared? W-What if you leave because it's too much too soon?" Tears instantly began to stream down your face once again and Hyunjin sighed, brushing a gentle kiss to your forehead.
His heart ached at the thoughts going around in your head, he wanted nothing more than to reassure you but he knew it was going to take more than a few promises. He needed to show you he was here to stay.
"We'll figure it out together, Yn," he reassured you, his voice filled with love and determination. 
"And no matter what happens, I'll be right here by your side, every step of the way." You stared at him and bit down on your lip.
"I'm here to stay Yn. I'm all in, no matter what." He promises, looking at his hand and pulling off one of the rings he was wearing and sliding it onto your finger.
"A promise that I won't go anywhere." He whispers, kissing your lips softly as you sniffle a little, doing your best to believe what he was telling you.
JISUNG:
For months, you have been brushing off the subtle signs your body was sending your way. The fatigue, the nausea—it was all easy to dismiss as stress or a mild bug. But as your symptoms worsened, you couldn't ignore them any longer. The day you found yourself doubled over in pain, you knew something was seriously wrong and so did Jisung who had practically dragged you to the hospital. 
In the hospital waiting room, you gripped your boyfriend's hand tightly, your stomach tied in knots. You had tried to downplay your symptoms, hoping they would eventually fade away. But now, faced with the sterile walls of the hospital, you couldn't deny the truth any longer. You weren't stupid, you knew what all of your symptoms meant but you thought if you ignored them long enough it would mean you were in control a little longer. You could give yourself time to adjust.
When the doctor finally entered the room, your heart raced with anxiety. When the doctor delivered the news—that you were indeed pregnant—Jisung's eyes widened in shock, his grip on your hand tightening with a mixture of surprise and joy. But you couldn't meet his gaze. Tears welled up in your eyes as the weight of your secret finally came crashing down on you. 
"I... I didn't know," you whispered, your voice shaking a little as Jisung turned to you, confusion etched on his face. Ale
"What do you mean, you didn't know?" he asked, his voice tinged with concern. Pregnancy was a pretty obvious thing not to notice, there were some cases but it was rare. You took a deep breath, struggling to compose yourself as you met his gaze. 
"I... I've been in denial," you admitted, your voice trembling with emotion. 
"I was scared, Jisung. Scared of what it meant, scared of how it would change everything." You and Jisung had been together for almost five years so it wasn't as though you were in a new relationship but things were great between you. You were scared having a child would ruin that, did he even want a kid? 
As you poured out your fears, Jisung wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close in a comforting embrace. 
"Oh, Yn," he murmured, his voice filled with love and understanding. 
"You don't have to be scared. We'll figure this out together, okay? We've been together five years, it was either have a child or adopt a dog," He teased you, making you giggle a little as you wiped your face free from the tears.
FELIX:
You sat nervously in the coffee shop, fidgeting with your cup as you tried to focus on the conversation with your friend, Sarah. But the news you had just received was swirling in your mind, drowning out everything else. Today the two of you were supposed to be having a relaxing girl day but it was finally your chance to get all of your fears out about being pregnant. 
"I just don't know what to do, Sarah," You confessed, your voice barely above a whisper scared that someone who didn't even know you was going to overhear and judge you for everything. 
"What if I'm not ready to be a mum? What if I'm not good enough? What if..." You stopped yourself as you thought about Felix. The man you loved and had been with for the last four years, he should have been the one you talked to about this but you were scared. He seemed so excited about being a father,
"What if Lix doesn't want kids with me?"
Unbeknownst to you, Felix had entered the coffee shop moments earlier, hoping to surprise you with a lunch date. But as he overheard your words, his heart sank. He had been grappling with his own fears and uncertainties about the pregnancy, but hearing your doubts voiced aloud only intensified his concern.
Sarah reached out, placing a comforting hand on your arm. 
"Yn, you're going to be an amazing mom," she reassured you, her voice filled with conviction. 
"And as for Felix... well, I'm sure he loves you more than anything. He'll support you no matter what." Tears welled up in your eyes as you nodded, grateful for Sarah's words of encouragement. But deep down, your fears continued to gnaw at you, leaving you feeling overwhelmed and uncertain.
Just then, Felix approached your table, a hesitant smile on his face.
"Hey, surprise!" he exclaimed, trying to lighten the mood as he greeted you with a kiss on the cheek. Your heart skipped a beat as you looked up, your eyes widening in surprise at the sight of Felix. But before you could say anything, Felix gently took your hand in his, his expression serious as he met your gaze.
"I heard what you said, baby," He began, his voice soft but filled with determination. 
"And I want you to know that I'm scared too. But... but I want this. With you. I've always wanted a family with you," Your breath caught in your throat as you stared at him, your heart overflowing with emotion. At that moment, all your doubts and fears seemed to melt away, replaced by a profound sense of love and gratitude for the man sitting before you.
"I love you, Yn," He continued, his eyes shining with sincerity. 
"And I want nothing more than to build a future together with you, whatever that may look like. So please... let's face this together, okay?"  Tears streamed down your cheeks as you threw her arms around him, holding him close as she whispered, 
"Okay." All three of you sitting in the cafe and planning your appointments for the next few months.
SEUNGMIN:
The sun was setting over the picturesque seaside town as you found yourself alone in the rented beach house, your hands trembling as you stared down at the pregnancy test in your hand. You had been feeling off for a while now, but it wasn't until you'd arrived on holiday with your boyfriend, Seungmin, and his friends that you realized you needed to know for sure.
As you sat on the edge of the bathtub, your heart pounding in your chest, you barely registered the sound of the door creaking open. Before you could react and hide the test, Jeongin stepped into the bathroom, a look of surprise flashing across his face as he caught sight of you holding the pregnancy test. He didn't know you and Seungmin had even been trying to make a baby, he'd never mentioned it.
"Yn, I'm so sorry, I didn't realize..." Jeongin stammered, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment as he quickly averted his gaze. But it was too late. The floodgates had opened, and tears streamed down your cheeks as you crumpled the test in your hand. You couldn't hold back the overwhelming sense of fear and uncertainty that consumed you.
"Yn, what's wrong?" Jeongin asked, his voice filled with concern as he knelt down beside you, his hand resting gently on your shoulder.
"I... I'm pregnant," you whispered, you didn't know why you were telling Jeongin when it was Seungmin you should have been talking to but he was there and you'd always been close. 
"But I'm scared, Jeongin. I'm so scared."Jeongin's eyes widened in shock at your words, but before he could say anything, your sobs grew louder, echoing off the tiled walls of the bathroom. Sensing the urgency of the situation, Jeongin knew he had to act fast.
"SEUNGMIN!" he called out, panic lacing his voice as he dashed out of the bathroom in search of his best friend who should have been the one to find you first.
Seconds later, Seungmin burst into the room, his eyes wide with concern as he took in the sight of you sobbing on the bathroom floor. Without hesitation, he dropped to his knees beside you, wrapping his arms around you in a comforting embrace.
"Baby, what's wrong?" He asked, his voice soft but filled with worry as he brushed a stray tear from your cheek. Through your tears, you poured out your fears to him, your voice trembling with emotion as you confessed your doubts and uncertainties about the pregnancy. You were terrified of not being ready, of making mistakes, of everything that lay ahead. But Seungmin listened to you with unwavering love and support, his own heart filled with a mixture of fear and determination. He may not have all the answers, but he knew one thing for certain: they would face this together, whatever may come.
"We're going to have a beautiful kid, and we're both going to raise our kids to be happy," He explained, before going in-depth about how he knew you were going to be amazing parents and trying to help your fears. 
JEONGIN: 
Jeongin moved through your apartment with purpose, determined to surprise you with a spotless home, you'd been stressed about something for about a month or so now and he wanted to do something nice for you. He'd drawn a hot bath, made food ready to be heated up when you came in and now he was cleaning up for you. As he tidied up, his eyes fell upon a small box tucked away in a drawer. Curiosity piqued, he opened it, only to find a pregnancy test and an ultrasound photo nestled inside.
His heart skipped a beat, a wave of shock and confusion washing over him. How could you not have told him about this? Why had you kept something so significant a secret? With a whirlwind of emotions swirling inside him, Jeongin set the box down and made his way to the living room right as you walked through the front door. You smiled seeing him walking around your place,
"I missed you," You giggled a little, but his mind raced with questions as he struggled to find the right words to confront you about what he had just found.
"Yn...we need to talk," Jeongin began, his voice trembling with emotion as he stared at you. You looked at him, your brow furrowing in confusion at the seriousness in Jeongin's tone. 
"What's wrong?" you asked, concern etched in your voice. Jeongin hesitated for a moment before he spoke, his heart heavy with the weight of the discovery he had made. 
"I found something," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper as he pulled out the test and photo from behind his back. Your eyes widened in alarm as you recognized the contents in his hand. You opened your mouth to speak, but Jeongin continued before you could say anything.
"Why didn't you tell me about this?" he demanded, his voice tinged with hurt and anger, you both promised never to hide something for each other. 
"How could you keep something like this from me?" Tears welled up in your eyes as you met Jeongin's gaze, your hands trembling with fear and uncertainty. 
"I... I didn't know how," you admitted, your nerves building up once again. 
"I'm scared, Innie. Scared of being a mom so young, scared of what it means for us." Jeongin's anger began to fade as he watched tears fall down your face, replaced by a profound sense of sadness and compassion. He realized that he had been so focused on his own feelings of betrayal that he hadn't stopped to consider how you might be feeling.
"Baby, I'm sorry," Jeongin murmured, reaching out to take your hand in his. 
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violetarks · 1 month
Text
megumi's parental figure, early 20s! gojo satoru, comes in to discuss with you, first year teacher as 'ms l/n', a little mishap that has occured between the young boy and someone else in your class. a fight had broke out in the midst of recess and, while on your break in the teacher's lounge, you were called to the entrance of the room with the two boys, both with their fair share of scratches and scruffed up clothes.
the office had to tell the respective parents to come in to talk after school, while you stood with the boys in the sick bay, helping the nurse clean their wounds.
megumi grunts, "don't call gojo..."
"i have to, sweetie." you retort, placing a bandaid on his cheek from the bark that scratched his face when he was pushed into the ground. megumi frowns even more. "it's the school's policy. i'm sorry."
he only nods his head, eyes pricking with tears as the kid beside him bawled his eyes out about getting in trouble with his parents
you know it's megumi's so-called 'immature, loud-mouth, waste of time and effort' guardian when he comes bursting through the hallway in some kind of uniform, glasses on his nose and fringe messily sticking to his sweaty forehead. not the man you had pictured taking care of megumi.
"megumi! megumi!" he calls, rushing up to you and the boys. they sat in the chairs outside of your classroom while the rest of yours kids were painting. megumi groaned, covering his face in embarrassment as satoru kneeled down in front of him and badgered on. "what happened? i came as soon as i got the call!"
megumi, unwilling to answer, only glares at the boy beside him, who does the same thing.
you sigh, "your son and his classmate were in a physical fight today, mr gojo."
satoru looks to you for a split second before doing a double take. his blue eyes peak over his glasses and you find yourself clearing your throat to gather your nerves again.
as soon as satoru turns back to megumi, he's worried again. "oh god... megumi, please, tell me, did you win—?"
"mr gojo!" you harshly whisper, slight chuckle in your tone at the question. he glances up at you. "please."
so now you sit with both of the boys' parents — megumi and his legal father, satoru (who hasn't stopped smiling at you since he walked in, which is a step up from his not-much-older sister coming in to fill in for their parents), and the other boy, ibuki, and his parents, mr and mrs sawamura (who were of high paying jobs).
the mother and father duo look unpleased to be there, whilst satoru just keeps sending you the warmest gaze. the boys are glaring at each other, clicking their tongues and looking away.
"i apologise for the inconvenience this has caused." you explain, hands on your lap as your sit on your chair at the head of the classroom, "but i'm afraid the school's contacted you on such short notice due to the events of today."
you begin to explain what you know from the boys and what other teachers have told you. megumi and ibuki have never been friends due to clashing ideas, but today, ibuki pushed megumi onto the floor at the playground in the middle of playing tag when megumi was 'it' and tagged ibuki. as a result, ibuki made a comment on megumi's absent parents.
the ravenette, in return, pushed ibuki back and told him to apologise, only for ibuki to throw the first punch. a minor brawl occured, with slapping, kicking, punching and bark throwing whilst other kids watched. nothing was severely damaged, but scratches and light bruises were evident on the boys.
in the end, neither of the boys wanted to apologise.
"what could my son have possibly done?" mrs sawamura questions, crossed arms. the two have been hostile since the start, but you don't react.
"mrs sawamura, ibuki put his hands on megumi and pushed him to the ground whilst insulting him." you reiterate, "i'm sorry, but all accounts state this."
"ibuki, did you do such a thing?" mr sawamura questions, glaring at his son.
ibuki, baffled and nervous, begins to sputter out, "i—well, megumi...! he—he bullied me and said i was a slow runner!”
"i wasn't making fun of you, i was stating a fact." megumi retorts, shaking his head. satoru smirks.
"if anyone should be punished, it should be that bully of a kid!" mrs sawamura exasperates, "goodness, what kind of child resorts to such hostility? children say anything these days! what are you raising?"
satoru turns to her with a roll of his eyes. "a kid with common sense. maybe the reason your kid is so jealous of megumi isn't just because he's smarter than him or cooler, but because megumi knows to cover mouth when to sneeze rather than on other kids at the christmas concert."
"it was an accident!" ibuki cries out, wiping his tears.
"you told all the boys you were gonna' do it!" megumi retaliates, rolling his eyes as well. the resembalance is uncanny.
"nonsense!" mr sawamura exclaims, standing from his chair. you rub your temple, headache ensuing. mrs sawamura only shakes her head as her son sticks her tongue out at satoru. "ibuki would never be jealous of someone like megumi!"
for the first time since he began, satoru's smile drops. he stands as well, towering over the other man. "what's that supposed to mean?"
"okay, let's dail it down, please." you say, standing up as well. you watch as the two men do as you say and seat themselves, all the while glaring at each other. "now, it is a two day suspention. no exceptions. and the kids will have to complete all assigned work i have for them. here."
you give the two boys a folder each, filled with a short workbook and other things, and you don't even allow mr and mrs sawamura to complain before you stand up and bow your head.
"both children are in trouble for participating in the fight." you explain calmly, furrowed brows, "however, this is not the first instance ibuki has been caught talking about other people's privacy. i believe this is an issue to be solved at home."
your last sentence makes satoru giggle and stare at the couple, judging them. they, in return, begin mumbling in their placesnamd crossing their arms.
"thank you for taking the time out of your day to discuss this unfortunate event. i shall see you kids on thursday. good evening." you say blankly, already grabbing your belongings and heading out the door.
satoru is quick to catch up to you before you get into your car.
"hey, ms l/n!" he calls, holding megumi's hand as he gets dragged along in the carpark.
"mr gojo." you reply, expecting him to start explaining megumi's actions.
"thank you for standing up for megumi today." he says, making you stop, "it's good to know that he has someone looking out for him at school."
"oh... i, uh, i don't mind. he's my student, and he does very well in my classes." you explain, smiling at the kid, "how's your cheek, megumi?"
"doesn't hurt at all..." he retorts, looking to the ground. you only grin.
satoru then holds out his other hand. "you can call me 'satoru'. i want to take you out for dinner as a 'thanks' for helping out megumi."
you stop before shaking his hand. "i'm y/n. i'd love you, but..." your eyes drift to megumi, who only turns away with a pout. "i try to keep my work life and personal life separate."
satoru lets out a small chuckle before nodding his head. "i understand. thank you, ms l/n. you're megumi's favourite teacher."
"hey!" megumi grumbles, jabbing at the white-haired man's stomach, "ugh! let's just go home!"
you wave as megumi drags satoru to a nice black car, and they drive to the school gates as you enter your own vehicle.
you're incredibly surprised when you are informed by the principal that fushiguro megumi is leaving the school after only four months of being under your care. you begin to question why he was leaving. were you not a suitable teacher for him? what was wrong with your teaching style?
megumi explains to you that he's upset he's leaving because he actually doesn't want to go. he wants to stay, and he has never complained about you to satoru. you asked why he's moving schools, and he only shrugs and says satoru told him he would be.
when satoru comes to pick up megumi, you make sure to stand at his side with your arms crossed. the man is pleasantly surprised when he sees you with an annoyed expression.
"ms l/n, lovely seeing you again." he says, patting his adopted son's head. the boy scowls and pushes his hand away, stepping closer to you.
"mr gojo, i'd like to ask why you are making megumi move schools when he is perfectly fine here. is this a problem with me? is my way of teaching not up to your standards?" you begin, looking at him dead in the eye.
satoru chuckles, hands in his pockets, "not at all, y/n. megumi actually does pretty well under your care."
"so what is it?"
"i don't want him to be your student." he hums out, shrugging his shoulders, "because you don't mix work with your personal life, i figured i'd take us out of your work life. if megumi is no longer your student, then i can be your boyfriend."
your stilled, frozen as he smiles dumbly at you. any teachers or parents close enough to hear your conversation stop to giggle behind their hands, enjoying the short display of romance. you furrow your brows before uncrossing your arms, tilting your head to the side.
"i—" you begin, pursing your lips and covering your face a little. he lets out a small laugh. "satoru, you can't just..."
"if you care that much about megumi's education, you're more than welcome to come over for dinner and we can tutor him." he offers, grinning at you with such softness that you immediately hum in agreement, "that's great! c'mon, megumi, you can see ms l/n saturday night. say 'goodbye' to your friends and we'll go."
megumi then runs off to bid his friends 'goodbye', all of them crying out about never seeing each other again. in the meantime, satoru stands at your side, hands in his pockets.
"so," he begins, "can i take you out for dinner this weekend? megumi will be out of this school by then."
"i don't appreciate you taking megumi out of this school just because you wanted to ask me out." you huff out, tilting your head at him.
satoru smiles wider, bumping his hip with yours. “just imagine all the other things i’m willing to do to score a chance with you.”
“whatever.” you chuckle, looking back to him, “one date, i will give you one chance.”
“that is all i need. thank you, y/n.” he responds, winking at you. he turns back to megumi, waving his hand. “c’mon, kid! time to go home!”
as they leave, satoru shoots you one last smile and you swear you can hear your heartbeat quicken.
that was the last time megumi was ever your student and the first time satoru made you swoon.
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disneyprincemuke · 2 months
Text
✧.* the parent trap / ls2 *.✧
while luna's observant nature is typically a blessing, you suddenly find yourself a part of her little games after you and logan get into a fight that leaves you refusing to talk to one another
notes: i missed dad!logan so here we are
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“love,” logan sighs as his hand comes up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “come on.”
“don’t even say that to me!” you shriek before turning to walk away from him. “no, seriously, logan. i no longer want to speak to you.”
“you can’t just do that!”
“yeah, i can! watch me!”
marriage is fun, they said. though you actually cannot remember who specifically said that to you, or is that something you told yourself to make yourself feel better for getting married at 20?
either way, it’s tough juggling being a wife to an athlete who is rarely home, your job and a 5-year-old. you just wish someone had talked some sense into you before you decided that teenage pregnancy was smart.
spoiler alert: it, in fact, is not.
so you spend the night in the guest room by yourself with frustration in your veins. you could have opted to continue arguing with logan, but the sleeping toddler just a door down just makes it so difficult to continue.
your ability to turn a petty argument into a full fledged argument has bled into your marriage, and you have to admit that both of you are still slowly still figuring that part out.
it’s a lot harder than you thought.
you fall asleep after tossing and turning for hours, not used to the stiffness of the bed in the guest bedroom that’s only ever lived in when logan’s brother comes for a visit. the sheets smell too clean and the room is neat — you’re rarely inside, only using it as luna’s makeshift playroom at times.
so imagine the toddler’s shock when she knocks on the master bedroom door and stumbles in only to find one parent under the sheets. and it’s not even the same as before: she’d half expected you laying by yourself but not this time. it’s just logan.
considering logan is rarely home makes it all the more perplexing for the blue eyed kid.
she hums, climbing over logan who’s lying on his side. “where’s mummy?”
“mummy needed some ‘me time’,” logan grins, peeking through an eye as luna climbs under the sheets, nuzzling herself into his arms. “mummy is sleeping in the next room over.”
luna hums, nodding understandingly though concerned for her mother. she contemplates checking on you briefly, but the minute logan’s soft snores filled the empty room again, she knew she was stuck in place for the next couple of minutes until logan remembers that luna is here to wake you both up for breakfast.
so she sighs, closing her eyes and forcing herself into a slumber again to ignore her grumbling stomach. and because she hasn’t seen logan for 2 weeks, so this is kinda nice.
luna is awoken by the smell of pancakes and she knows instantly that you’ve finally rolled out of bed and mummy’s ‘me time’ is finally over. she scrambles out of logan’s arms, completely unaware of the deep slumber that her father has slipped into, interrupted by her thrashing around.
“mummy!” the girl screeches as she opens the door, stuffed koala locked between her arm and her body. “are those pancakes?”
“good morning, lulu,” you greet her, setting a plate down on the table. she greets you softly, wobbling over to you and tiptoeing when you press a kiss to the top of her head. “you slept with daddy?”
“i went in to wake him up,” she mutters, climbing onto the seat next to you, “then we fell asleep again.”
logan stumbles out of the room as well, hair a mess and eyes still half open. he merely glances at you, catching your eye as you both consider acting civilised in front of your child. though your argument is fresh in both of your heads, he greets you nonchalantly as he passes you on his way to the kitchen.
he didn’t even have to look at the table to know that you’d only prepared breakfast for yourself and luna.
“morning,” you find yourself greeting him back with a small smile to play the part in front of luna. you hunch over again and pat luna. “do you wanna go out and do something today, lulu? let’s have a girls’ day?”
she hums again, leaning forward to grab her utensils. “without daddy?”
you tilt your head. “daddy’s not a girl.”
you see luna purse her lips, furrowing her eyebrows as she considers your offer. logan is only going to be home for a week and a half, and she knows that. but you can’t physically stand the thought of staying at home with logan in the vicinity, your argument still leaving a bitter taste in your mouth.
it’s just unfair that he was questioning your parenting decisions when he’s rarely here for luna the majority of the time. sure, you know how difficult it is for him to cope with the situation, always feeling like an absent father more often than not. but it’s not a good enough reason to question how you choose to deal with emergencies you deal with by yourself when he’s not home.
it’s not fair that he’d question your ability to be a parent to your sole child.
“okay,” luna shrugs with a smile. “can we go to build-a-bear?”
you smile and nod. “of course!”
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it’s been 2 days since you’ve spoken to logan. both of you are running out of excuses to tell luna why you’re not sleeping in the same bed and why you’re practically ignoring one another.
acting civilised in front of the toddler seemed okay at first, until luna opened the door to the guest bedroom with a head tilt and questions on her lips.
“mummy, do you not love daddy anymore?”
you cannot begin to explain how fast you sat up and turned to the door with mirrored furrowed eyebrows and a head tilt. “luna, why would you ask me that?”
she shrugs with a frown, looking down at her feet. “did you fight?”
you sigh, closing your eyes. you always knew treating luna like a normal human being would bound to have it’s disadvantages. she’s a very well spoken 5-year-old, articulate and more spatially aware than you would like.
“mummy and daddy are just figuring something out,” you explain softly as she closes the door behind her and walks over to where you are. “but that doesn’t mean i don’t love him anymore. why would you say that?”
she climbs on the bed and settles herself on your lap, immediately nuzzling her face into your chest. “i’m just making sure. cause i still love daddy.”
“well, i still love daddy,” you grin, brushing her hair. “i’m just upset with him right now. like you with your friend in preschool, remember? but that doesn’t mean we won’t ever make up.”
luna hums throwing her head back with a grin. then she scrambles out of bed, koala stuffie still in her arms as she runs out of the room. “okay!”
“lulu, where are you going?”
she shrugs, tiptoeing as she opens the door to leave you. “it’s my playtime now.” she turns to you with a cheeky grin. “do you want to join me?”
you nod. “can i join you in a couple of minutes? mummy’s got some work to finish.”
she nods before she closes the door behind her. but while you think that she’s disappeared into the living room for playtime, she actually makes a sharp turn for the master bedroom to ask logan the same thing.
she opens the door, feigning sadness with her head hung low. she frowns as she looks at logan with puffed cheeks and sad eyes. “you still love mummy, don’t you?”
logan, who’d already been awake and on his phone, turns to his daughter with a bewildered expression. how long was he gone for that his daughter suddenly turned into some old woman stuck in a toddler’s body?
“what?”
her frown grows. “you don’t love mummy?”
“what?” logan throws his head back, putting his phone down. “of course i still love mummy! why would you think otherwise?”
she presses her lips together, squinting her eyes as she approaches logan slowly. “you and mummy have not dropped me off at uncle oscar’s to hang out without me,” she hums, keeping her gaze on logan. “you should hang out with mummy.”
logan hums, pressing his lips together. “soon, lulu. don’t you like spending time with us together at home?”
she climbs on the bed and hunches her back. she sighs exasperatedly and shrugs with her whole body before dropping her back on the bed. “you and mummy don’t even talk to each other.”
she tries probing logan for a confession like she did with you, clearly knowing the transparency that you share from spending everyday with her. logan, however, she’s constantly trying to figure out each time he spends at home with her. not to say that she doesn’t think she’s not close with her dad — because she is — it’s just a different dynamic.
“what if…” when logan continues to stare at her, she sighs softly. she sits up. “can you play tea party with me?”
he furrows his eyebrows, shocked by the sudden change in mood. “sure? but weren’t you going to ask me something?”
she shrugs, now climbing out of the bed. “nope.” she stands on her feet and looks at logan. “tea party?”
“of course!”
suddenly logan finds himself trying to squeeze into a chair that’s clearly too small for him, sipping on imaginary tea. his daughter sits opposite him and the stuffed koala between them. he finds a plastic tiara on his head as they sit in silence for the next minute or so.
a door opens and makes luna perk up and grin at logan, her green eyes piercing into his own. “we have a special guest.”
logan tilts his head. “do we?”
“yes!” luna throws her hands in the air with a giggle, watching you approach them with a soft smile. “mummy is finished with her work! she can join us for tea party now!”
you laugh, merely glancing at logan as you approach their little table. “do you want me to make actual tea, lulu? have you guys been drinking pretend tea this whole time?”
luna shrugs, running from the table to her play kitchen where her little kettle sits on top of the plastic stove. “yes. but i like pretend tea. daddy, though,” she glances at you with a small and playful smile before looking at logan, “maybe he wants big people tea.”
“daddy can make big people tea by himself,” you laugh.
she drops her smile. “but you should ask him.”
you force a smile to your face, stiffly turning over to your husband, hunched over as he plays with the koala’s ears. “do you?” he looks at you. “want big people tea?”
logan shrugs, leaving the koala alone as he hesitantly keeps eye contact with you. “maybe.”
before you could shoot back an answer, something about making it himself, luna perks up and stumbles into you. “i changed my mind, mummy. i want some tea, please.”
you gasp. “i thought you said i was a special guest!”
“oh!” you see the gears shift in luna’s head as she shyly looks over at logan with a shy grin, finger in her mouth. “daddy…”
“okay,” logan mutters, pushing himself off the plastic chair. “i’ll make tea.”
you hold back a laugh when he stands up, the plastic chair stuck around his hips as he struggles to pull it off himself. only then do you notice that luna’s forced him into another one of her pink tutu’s for the tea party.
“hey,” you poke luna’s stomach, prompting a soft giggle from the toddler, “how come only daddy gets the cute accessories?”
she gasps, eyes wide as she darts away from you. she sprints over to the small box in the corner of the room and practically jumps in to dig for something for you. “i’ve got a tiara for you too, mummy!”
she comes back with a couple of accessories while logan’s gone to make your family some tea. you hunch over for luna to put the tiara messily on your head, even giggling as she helps you put some fairy wings on.
logan comes back with the promised tea eventually, juggling a teapot in one hand with three pink little tea cups in the other. a set that logan had found somewhere during one of his races and he couldn’t resist not getting it for luna and her tea parties involving real drinks.
“thank you!” luna perks, smiling up at logan as he takes a seat. “you made tea for mummy too?”
“of course.”
she turns to you. “mummy, what do you–”
“thanks,” you say as you finally take a seat in one of the small chairs, unfortunately, next to logan.
“i brought sugar for your tea.”
you look down at the sugar packets now sitting in front of you on the table as luna pushes away all of her plastic sets of teapots and cups. you feel your chest warm up at the subtle gesture, smiling at him as he sets the little plastic table with everything in his hands. “thank you,” you find yourself whispering as he puts a cup in front of you.
“so lulu,” logan starts, “how has pre-school been?”
you see her green eyes sparkle, excited that logan’s asked about school. she’s got stories upon stories to tell him, starting with the friends she’s made lately and the fact that she’s gotten into her first fight with a friend (they eventually make up).
then she starts rambling about her karting races, giggling about how you never fail to take her every weekend and take her out for dessert afterwards.
luna forces your phone out of your pocket, making you pull pictures out of her in her race suit and pictures of her zooming past you during her races and practice. it forces you and logan closer slightly, and suddenly you realise what luna is doing.
it only took logan turning to you with crinkled eyes, giggling along with you when the picture of luna passed out in the back of the car with her mouth hung open pops up. you’ve been set up by your own toddler, conspiring to ensure that you and logan are making up sooner rather than later.
it’s almost genius. you barely even have the time to think where she’s gotten this sneaky trait from because she starts shaking you to show logan pictures you took of your short trip to your mother’s right before he came home.
“aw, lulu,” logan coos at the picture of her interacting with your parents’ dog, all cuddled up on the couch as she watches tv. “you like mika?”
“like mika?” you snort, “she loves mika. she forced the poor husky to sleep with her the entire 3 days we were there.”
without noticing, luna starts pulling back as you and logan finally find yourselves engaged in conversation about her. she silently takes her koala from the seat next to her, slowly walking over to the couch with her ipad hoping that you don’t notice her.
“and mika was okay with that?” logan laughs, throwing his head back. “she didn’t get mauled by a dog twice her size or something?”
you shake your head in amusement at his statement. “i guess not! mika was so fond of her. probably from the constant belly rubs that luna gave her upon arrival.”
logan hums, resting his chin in his hands, elbows on his knees as he leans into you. “we should get her a dog. someone to keep her company while you’re away for work, you know?”
“logan,” you huff, furrowing your eyebrows, “she’s enough work as it is. an additional mouth to feed would be too much for me.”
he purses his lips together. “she’s been asking for a dog forever though.” you suck in a deep breath, finding yourself ready to explain why your household does not require a dog. as if reading your mind, he waves his hand in the air. “actually, you’re right. we should wait until she’s a bit older.”
you smile at him, thankful that he immediately got where you were going with the conversation. you glance at your daughter, now swinging her feet in the air as she lies on her stomach on the couch, tapping away on her ipad. “by the way,” you whisper, “i think we just got bested by our toddler.”
he giggles along with you, scrunching his nose. “i know. she’s got a future in strategising, don’t you think?”
“definitely. i haven’t been outsmarted in a while until luna started growing up to be a menace.”
he sighs, smiling slightly at you. “i’m sorry for the other night. i didn’t mean to poke at you for your decision-making — i was just shocked. you have it hard enough being home alone with luna all the time. i shouldn’t have questioned you.”
you reach over to grab his hand, squeezing it. “i’m sorry too. i was a tad defensive.”
luna glances over at both of you, grinning to herself before returning her attention to her youtube video. suddenly all is right in the world and she’s counting hours to your announcement that she is being sent to uncle oscar’s house to spend the day so you can hang out by yourself.
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@33-81 @darleneslane @happy-nico @nikfigueiredo @namgification @localwhoore
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kamaluhkhan · 9 months
Text
in my head, i play a supercut of us
pairing: conrad fisher x fem!reader
summary: you come back to cousins beach after a few years away. conrad is not particularly happy that you're back - and you aren't particularly thrilled, either. too bad there's a history (chemistry?) neither of you can deny.
warnings: drinking + smoking. lots of plot + flashbacks. there is some mention of injuries, body issues/self esteem (reader is a competitive swimmer), complicated family dynamics (reader is eldest daughter), slight allusion to alcoholism.
a/n: ohhh this turned out much longer than i expected it to be!! honestly i have so many ideas that this will probably become a series. for now please enjoy the summer, childhood friends to lovers to strangers vibes ;)
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you still crave lemonade, but the taste doesn't satisfy you as much as it used to. you still crave summer, but sometimes you mean summer, five years ago. (alida nugent)
now — summer, age 18
driving up to the beach house after so many summers have passed, you’re struck with the memory of your first time swimming. 
it was mid-june in cousins; you must have been four years old. you stood on the edge of the pool for an eternity, until your father became impatient and threw you into the deep end. you screamed, imagined your lungs being filled with cold water, drowning in darkness. your neighbour had run over when he heard, and your father had to hold him back from jumping in to save you. instead, your life jacket kept you afloat, and soon enough you were kicking as though it was the most natural thing in the world. you discovered your love of swimming that afternoon and in that your father found his star athlete. you also realized your love for conrad fisher, the boy next door.
your summers in cousins, the friends you’d met here, conrad fisher — these composed your metaphorical lifejacket, once preserving your childhood. you’d taken it off for too long, spent years in the deep end alone, keeping yourself afloat, moving towards a carefully constructed future. now it all started to crumble, and here you were again, a different person; you wondered if the others were different, too. 
it wasn't your first choice to come back to cousins, but you were determined to make the most of it. after unpacking your things, you decide to make your way to the beck house, right next door to your own family’s. 
you knock once, twice, three times. there's no answer, so you figure that everyone is either in town or at the beach. you start to walk away when you hear the front door open. 
"excuse me!" laurel park's voice calls. you turn around, and the shock on laurel's face is clear. "y/n! oh my god, i almost didn't recognize you!" 
"four summers can do that," you note. 
you hear your name from inside the house, and before you know it, belly conklin excitedly runs out and tackles you in a hug. 
"hey, bells," you laugh. you notice how dressed up she is, something that changed from the oversized t-shirts and patterned shorts you remember her always wearing. "cute dress. where are you off to?" 
"oh. there's a high tea at the country club. sort of like an introduction for the debutante season." 
you raise an eyebrow, looking past belly towards laurel. "is this a lemon jelly belly situation?" you’re referring to the code phrases you used to exchange for different situations, depending on different flavours of jelly beans: pear, toasted marshmellow, lemon. it might have been childish (you were kids at the time), but it always worked. more than anyone, you know what it’s like to be pushed into something too quickly, too soon. even after all these years, and even though belly is only two years younger, your instinct is to defend her at all times.
"possibly," laurel sighs. 
"it's not," belly insists, giving her mother a pointed look. "i wanted to try something new this summer, and susannah promised it would be fun." 
the two of you walk back towards the house. when you reach the door, laurel brings you into a tight hug. the three of you walk into the kitchen, and you find yourself taking the seat you had once claimed as your own — a stool at the counter, third from the left. belly settles down next to you, and laurel grabs a pitcher of sweet tea from the fridge while you reach over to take three glasses from the drying rack. 
belly explains more about the debutante season, and mentions that steven and jeremiah are both working at the club this summer. she doesn't get around to what conrad is up to, because laurel suddenly checks her watch, then sighs. 
"i hate to cut this reunion short, but belly, we'd better leave if we want to make that tea of yours." 
"right." belly looks at you with a frown, like she's worried you'll disappear if you're out of sight. "i'll see you later?"
you smile, reaching over to squeeze her hand. "i'll be here all summer," you promise, and belly beams.
"you’re coming to my book party?" laurel asks, though it's more of a statement than a question.
"yeah, sure," you promise, sipping your sweet tea. "i'll see you guys there." 
with one final see you later and another hug from belly, you're left alone in the kitchen. you wonder if the fishers still keep the cereal in the same cabinet; if their cupboards are filled with the same sugary snacks you were never allowed to have, but you and the boys would sneak when the adults weren’t looking. 
"y/n, my little mermaid, is that you?" 
susannah always called you her little mermaid — inspired by your love of swimming, yes, but also that one summer you were convinced that mermaids were real, so you and belly spent hours looking for clues on the beach and painting your nails iridescent turquoise. all the adults scoffed at you, but susannah was the only one who played along, who allowed you to believe that magic was real.
instantly, you rise from your seat and hug susannah.
"you have no idea how happy i am that you're here this summer," susannah whispers. as you break away from your hug, susannah places her hands on your cheeks. she looks happy and healthy, if a little tired. you can't help but think of the years you’d been gone when susannah and her family were dealing with so much. there was only so much connection texts, calls, and emails could provide. to be here now, seeing susannah fisher alive and well? 
it was almost too much.
tears threaten to spill, but you swallow them. instead, you reply: "so am i." and, certainly more than before, you mean it.
“conrad’s out back if you want to come say hi. i’m painting his portrait. he’s been a bit down lately, but if anyone can make him feel better, it’s you.”
you feel your cheeks heat up. you finish the rest of your sweet tea and put your glass in the dishwasher, not quite feeling ready to face conrad — there was a complicated history between the two of you. unresolved tension, hurtful words, that sort of thing.
“i’ll, uh, let you keep painting. i should go get ready for laurel’s book party.”
“alright. i’ll see you there, sweetie.”
“yeah,” you confirm. you start to walk away before hearing susannah’s voice again:
“and, y/n?” you turn around. “i’m so glad you’re home.”
later that night, at laurel's book launch party, you watch conrad pour another glass of wine, and wonder whether or not you should join him. his eyes catch yours from across the room, but he quickly looks away. belly ended up having a date, she'd texted you earlier, and you were roped into a conversation with your mother and susannah before you could find stephen or jeremiah. 
"they grow up so fast," susannah muses. she then wraps an arm around your shoulder. "i can't believe that our eldests are 18! conrad’s off to brown in the fall — how about you, y/n?”
“princeton,” your mother boasts, draining the rest of her cup and grabbing another from a tray passing by. that’s her third glass, by your count. “we were so proud. it’s the best women’s swim team in the country.”
“stanford is a close second,” you interject. “besides, we don’t even know if i can start swimming for real by then.”
you’d broken your ankle a month and a half before. it didn’t need surgery yet and you were out of your cast, but you couldn’t return to your usual level of activity for a while — which meant no training camp, like you’d been going to the past few summers.
“you know, i did always picture you on the west coast,” susannah smiles at you. “all those beaches and sunshine.”
your mother frowns, ignoring susannah. “don’t be ridiculous. if you spend the summer doing your physical therapy and resting, you’ll be back in the water before we know it. your father and i agreed — that’s why you’re here.”
you resist the urge to argue with her and instead block her out as she brags about your siblings getting top prizes in their academic decathalon. the twins were thirteen now and had plans with their friends tonight, sparing them from attending this event. no offence to laurel or susannah, of course, but you’d rather be with your friends.
when you look for conrad once more, you notice that he's been roped into a conversation with laurel and someone who your mom had pointed out as cleveland castillo. even after all these years, you can tell when he needs backup: the impatient tapping of his foot, his eyes searching the room for an out.
after excusing yourself from the conversation, you make your way over to conrad. 
"hey," you greet, nodding at laurel and cleveland. "mind if i borrow this guy? we've got some catching up to do." if either laurel or cleveland said anything more after yes, then you don't hear them, already pulling conrad away.
you lead him to the back corner of the room, near a small couch. neither of you make a move to sit; neither of you say anything. up close, you could see the shadows under his eyes, the creases in between his brows. he was always quiet, the more calm and thoughtful one of the group, but always with soft edges, especially when it came to you. now, quiet could have been replaced with brooding, and all those soft edges seem sharper.
“so,” you start. you grab the wine from conrad’s hand and take a sip. “are you gonna keep ignoring me, or are you gonna welcome me back?”
“when my mom said you were back, i didn’t believe her.” conrad looks at you, his face still. “i wish you hadn’t come back.” 
stung, you take a deep breath. after everything, conrad thought that was the best way to greet you? if cold and closed off was how conrad wanted to act, you could play that game, too.
“fuck you,” is all you say before joining jeremiah and steven on the other side of the room.
steven’s eyes widen once they land on you. "no fucking way. y/n!" steven exclaims. "thought you'd never come back here, man." there’s a joyful undertone to his comment as he smiles. same old steven: always blunt, always laughing. 
"yeah, well, i’m here.”
jeremiah just beams at you, picking you up and spinning you around. 
“jere,” you giggle, half scolding, fully floating.
“sorry, sorry!” he laughs, setting you down. “i just — i can’t believe you’re here. how come you didn’t tell me you were coming?”
“yeah, well.” you shrug. “i thought you liked surprises.”
“well, i do. especially if it involves seeing you.”
"yo, speaking of surprises — what if we ditch this party and surprise belly at the drive-in?" stephen suggests.
you shake your head, though leaving was very tempting. 
"or, instead of ruining your sister's first date, we get some booze, light a fire, and go get drunk on the beach," you suggest.
"oh, i am so down!" jeremiah exclaims. "you've got my vote." 
“hell yeah.” steven grins and throws his arm around your shoulder. "you always did know how to show us a good time."
then — summer, age 11
you had plenty of bonfires before, on the beach with your parents, but that summer marked the first one with just the kids. you begged and begged, and eventually the adults were okay with it since conrad had earned his boy scout badge for fire safety in the spring.
it was the beginning of july, and an unseasonably cold evening — basically, perfect bonfire weather. jeremiah helped susannah make hot chocolate for everyone. belly wanted s'mores, so you had biked with her to the store earlier that day for the ingredients. everyone was stuffing their faces with slightly burnt marshmallows as melted chocolate and graham cracker crumbs decorated your cheeks, and you chased it all down with lukewarm chocolatey liquid. you were kids and it was summer; life was sweet, life was good. 
"conrad," steven announced, turning to the boy who was pushing a marshmallow deeper into the fire. "i dare you to go dunk in the ocean." a grin erupted on steven's face, and in the glow of the fire, he looked like the cheshire cat. 
"no way, man. it's freezing."
you knew the real reason conrad didn't want to go into the ocean. one night the week before, when the parents were out to dinner and the other kids were asleep, you and conrad had stayed up to watch jaws together, having rented it secretly from the local video store. ever since, conrad had been coming up with excuses to not go swimming at the beach. 
"what's the matter, con? you scared?" jeremiah taunted, wearing a similar cheshire grin to steven’s.
"what?" the marshmallow conrad was trying to roast fell into the fire. he huffed, and belly handed him another one. "i'm not scared. it's just freezing."
"come on, man. you’ve gotta do it. besides, there's a fire and hot cocoa here for you when you get back," jeremiah reasoned. ten-year-old jeremiah was never very concerned about following the rules, except when it came to truth or dare. 
"i'm good," conrad snapped.
"aw, i think he's scared," steven laughed.
"i'm not scared —"
"what if i went with you?" you interrupted him. 
"but it's not your dare," belly pointed out as she continued carefully assembling a s'more. nine-year-old belly was competitive, so it was very important to her that the rules of any game were followed. 
"yeah, but if connie —"
"is scared," jeremiah coughed under his breath.
"wants company," you continued, ignoring jeremiah. "then, it'll be more fun, right?" you were a mix between jere and belly: you were competitive, but you didn’t particularly care about following the rules. especially when it came to your friends, even more when it came to conrad.
conrad smiled at you softly. "right." 
reluctantly, jeremiah, belly and steven agreed to the terms of the dare. you removed your beach cover up, and conrad his shirt, leaving you both in your swimsuits, dry even with swimming in the pool a few hours before. you ran to the water, pulling conrad with you. you stopped at the edge of the sand, waves tickling your feet and the light, and warmth, of the bonfire a recent memory. it was much cooler here, closer to the water.
"ready?"
conrad nodded once. "ready." 
hands still clasped together, you jumped into the ocean, leaving the comfort of the shore behind. 
now 
jeremiah finds stale marshmallows in the kitchen and steven makes a bonfire on the stretch of beach between your two houses. you head home to change out of your silk mini skirt and back into denim cutoffs. you switch your cream blouse for a short-sleeved button down, left open over your favourite bralette. when you get back to the beach, the boys have invited some people over, most of whom you don't recognize. 
"here," jeremiah hands you a lukewarm beer, which you accept gratefully. then, he throws an arm around your shoulder. "come on, there's some people i want you to meet." 
jeremiah introduces you to a few guys he works with at the club, and some girls who are doing the deb thing with belly. 
"jeremiah mentioned you’re a swimmer." gigi, one of the debs, smiles, eyeing the way jeremiah leans against you. "what's that like?"
the girls all wait expectantly for you to answer. 
"intense," you decide. you leave it at that. the fire flickers a few feet away, vibrant and alive. 
you want nothing more than to go back to those summer nights when you were kids. you want belly to be looking at the stars for elaborate constellations while jeremiah burns marshmallows to a crisp. you want steven to be laughing and making outrageous, impossible dares. you want the five of you together, huddled around a small fire that conrad had carefully crafted. you want conrad to be okay. 
"i hear that competitive sports can like, really fuck with a girl's self-esteem and body image," gigi continues. you don't necessarily think she means it as an insult, and it's certainly not anything you haven't heard (or felt) before, but you still bristle.
"like i said: intense," you answer cooly. 
"hey, man, when are we gonna get the marshmallows going?" steven suddenly appears, his face slightly flushed. he holds hands with shayla, who, as jeremiah pointed out earlier, steven is dating. 
"in a bit. i asked con to pick up chocolate and graham crackers for s'mores." jeremiah looks around before saying: "speaking of: look who's here!"
jeremiah runs off to meet his brother, while you stay back and take a sip of your beer. 
"looks like he brought nicole, too," steven observes.
who the fuck is nicole? 
nicole, you learn as the group sits around the bonfire and roasts marshmallows, is the girl conrad is either dating or hooking up with. jeremiah isn't quite sure.
the night grows darker. the air is warm with smoke from marshmallows roasting, the smell of burnt sugar dancing around. people start to leave to go to other parties, and soon enough it's only steven, shayla, nicole, conrad, jeremiah, and you. having less people around made it harder for you to ignore conrad. nicole is nice and pleasant to talk to, but you can't help but feel something churn in your stomach when you see how close nicole and conrad are to each other. plus, she's wearing a red sox cap, and you know for a fact that conrad hates the red sox, unless that obviously fundamental part of his personality changed too. 
jeremiah must have noticed, because he suggests a drinking game for the group to ease the tension. 
"never have i ever gotten a tattoo." 
you’re the only one to take a sip of your drink. 
"i meant a real one," steven rolls his eyes. 
"i do have a real tattoo." you remove the button down and point to the left side of your rib cage. 
the others take a closer look, except conrad, of course. he was always an expert at pretending not to care, but so were you. tonight is a prime example: since the bonfire, you hadn't said a word to each other. 
"why a starfish?" nicole asks. she leans further into conrad’s arms.
you look at conrad, briefly, then shrug. "i like the beach." 
the game continues until the fire dies down, and you’re left with a burning sensation from conrad glancing in your direction, at the starfish etched on your skin.
then — summer, age 13
"that's disgusting," steven said, scrunching his nose. 
"no, steven, that's friendship," you replied, just as jeremiah leaned over to take more from your cup, and vice versa.
"right, friendship." belly raised her eyebrow at you, and you rolled your eyes in response. you then decided to take an interest in your formerly white sneakers (after so many summers, they were now decorated with sand and sea water and permanent marker doodles. your mother hated them.)
that summer, belly became convinced that jeremiah had a crush on you. she said that he was absolutely lovestruck and that you were too blinded by years of being best friends with him to notice. jeremiah had made you promise not to tell belly the hilarious irony of the situation — that it was belly he so clearly loved.
"see, steven. friendship can be sweet!" jeremiah grinned, chewing the chunk of bubble gum he had fished from your cup. that was the type of cheesy thing only jeremiah could say and make others laugh unironically. 
years before, when you were just kids, you and jeremiah believed you had solved the most complicated problem in the world. you loved bubble gum ice cream, but hated the bubble gum chunks. jeremiah loved bubble gum chunks, and didn't care if the flavor clashed with his favorite rainbow sherbert because he loved you even more (platonically, of course). 
during the whole interaction, conrad was silent, looking out towards the beach. 
the five of you had walked to the nearest ice cream shop (there was no baskin robbins in cousins, but some nautical themed place with 50 flavors and unlimited toppings). you decided to come back and sit on the porch of the fisher house (where there was a decent amount of shade) rather than on the beach. it was one of the hottest afternoons of the summer, late july, when the sun was at its peak. those who'd been coming to cousins their whole lives knew that being at the beach in such weather was only good for swimming. 
you glanced at conrad, who took another bite (an actual bite) of his chocolate ice cream. he was sitting on the railing instead of the stairs like the rest of you, so you had to crane your neck slightly. you tapped his ankle, which was decorated with a temporary tattoo. the night before, the two of you had found a few left over from when you were kids and, having a sugar rush from too much cream soda and root beer (and maybe stolen sips of sangria when the adults weren't looking), decided it would be hilarious to see if the tattoos still worked. so, conrad had a cartoonish-looking shark on his ankle, and you had a similarly cartoonish-looking starfish on your arm. 
"you okay, connie?" you asked. you only got a nod and a small smile in response. more and more, as summer crept on, conrad would be laughing, loud and lively, one second (exhibit A: using those temporary tattoos the night before was his idea -- we don't want them to go to waste, y/n, he grinned mischievously) and the next he'd be silent, closed off (exhibit B: since you came back from your ice cream excursion, he'd barely said a word). 
even though you couldn't really read minds, you had an aching feeling that you knew what conrad was thinking in that moment, because you’d been thinking it, too: time was passing too quickly. in a few days, it would already be august, and september was just around the corner. the summer - your childhood - was as temporary as yours and conrad’s tattoos: vibrant and saturated, slightly faded, then gone. 
"i wanna go swimming. anyone wanna join me at the beach?" jeremiah suddenly asked. 
"i've gotta pick up the twins from day camp, but i'll try to meet you guys later." you knew that wasn't true though — things were getting more and more tense between your parents, your father storming out angrily after useless arguments and your mother passing out on the couch after one too many glasses of wine. someone needed to watch your siblings, and neither of your parents seemed pressed to find an actual babysitter.
"i'll stay with you," conrad said.
belly and steven took jeremiah up on his offer. once the other three were gone, you stood up. "scooch over." conrad shifted slightly and you went to join him on the railing, your knees practically knocking together. 
"so. did the tattoo help you get over your fear of sharks?" 
conrad took another bite of his ice cream, this time with a giant chunk of chocolate. "i don't fear sharks," he replied. then, he turned to you and shrugged. "i just respect them, you know?"
you bumped your shoulder against conrad's. "right. you respect them so much that you avoid the ocean at all costs." 
conrad smirked. "says the girl who avoids eating on the beach because she's scared of seagulls!" 
you were laughing, teasing each other, not caring that your ice cream was melting, when mr. fisher opened the front door, car keys in hand.
"oh, hey kids. we were wondering where you were."
"we went to scoops ahoy," you explained. you took a bite of your ice cream and resisted the urge to spit it out once you realized that it had a chunk of bubble gum in it. 
"better watch the ice cream, huh, y/n?" mr. fisher said, smiling like he said the funniest thing in the world. he patted his stomach to further his point. "if you want to keep up at those swim meets."
you suddenly froze, mid bite. you cleared your throat and dropped the spoon back in your half-empty cup, suddenly queasy.
"dad," conrad said, not raising his voice, but definitely irritated. "what the actual fuck."
"language, conrad," mr. fisher scolded. without another word, he got in his car and drove away.
"he shouldn't have said that," conrad said instantly.
"it's fine," you replied, too quickly to be true. you set down your ice cream between you and conrad. "it's nothing my own father hasn't said to me."
being a teenage girl was brutal, and competitive swimming amplified that, especially the older you got. there was always someone faster, someone more skilled, someone better. ice cream churned in your stomach at the thought. was your father right: had you wasted your summer, not practicing your technique and stuffing your face with sugary treats? 
conrad picked up your ice cream and handed it to you. he then took the spoon from his own cup, and stated: "fuck dads who are jerks." 
you couldn't help but smile. somehow, he always knew what to say to make you believe that you weren't alone, that things would be okay no matter how fucked up the world was. 
"fuck dads who are jerks," you echoed, raising your spoon.
"and,” conrad paused. he looked at you with gentle eyes. “to always being there for each other."
you smiled at him, heart soaring. "to always being there for each other." 
you clinked your spoons together, and ate your ice cream, and shifted closer so your legs pressed together — and it didn't feel like a temporary promise.
now
you always loved mornings in cousins. the beach was particularly beautiful at sunrise, the water at its most peaceful.
the morning after the bonfire, you need that peacefulness to wash over you. as quietly as you can to avoid waking up the rest of your family, you make a fresh pot of coffee and pour some into your favourite mug. it’s from the rainforest cafe: bright green with a cartoon frog on it. you brought it back from a swim meet in niagara falls when you were 10, and got one for the fishers as well. theirs was orange with a cartoon iguana. conrad would use it all the time; you imagine it collecting dust in the kitchen cupboard now.
you make your way down to the beach, and notice someone already sitting at your usual spot by the water.
conrad doesn’t say anything when you sit next to him. he’s wearing a red hoodie over his clothes from last night, a cigarette tucked behind his ear. he glances at you as you sip your drink. 
“morning,” he whispers.
you shiver, and not just from the cool morning air. you’re reminded of the last time conrad spoke to you so softly, the last time you’d caught an early morning sunrise together. such a contrast to where you are now.
“morning,” you finally reply. 
as the sound of waves fills the silence between you, conrad lights his cigarette and takes a puff. then, he hands it to you. in turn, you offer him your mug. a peace offering — you both accept. the space between you becomes open, comfortable.
“since when do you smoke?” you exhale, letting the smoke warm your lungs. 
conrad takes a long sip of coffee, looking out towards the ocean. “since i quit football.”
“i thought you loved football.”
“i loved it,” conrad answers. he takes another sip, then gives the mug back to you. “i don’t love it anymore.”
you take another drag of the cigarette. your fingers brush against his when you return it to him.
“once you love something, you never really unlove it,” you muse, even though you know exactly what he means — when it comes to sports. 
“don’t misquote spirited away at me,” he laughs, and you can’t help but smile. the first time you'd watch that movie was when you were 8. all the kids crowded into the den of the fisher house on a rainy day. susannah prepared an impressive spread of candy, popcorn, and soda for you all. you drank dr. pepper from a twizzler straw and cried when chihiro reunited with haku.
conrad glances at you and the sunshine highlights his smile, his brown hair, the hazel of his eyes. golden, radiant. 
you shiver again, looking away. before you know it, you feel something draped across your shoulders.
“i’m not sure nicole would like it if i was wearing your hoodie.” you joke, but your words are laced with a bitterness you hope conrad doesn’t catch. unlucky for you, conrad knew you too well. 
“you don’t get to do that,” he snaps.
“do what?”
conrad scoffs. “be jealous.” 
“well, you don’t get to tell me how to feel.”
“so, you are jealous?”
you exhale sharply; you can practically feel the wall between you two reappear.
“it’s too early, con. and i’m too hungover to deal with this.”
there’s nothing more left to say. you get up, throw his hoodie on the sand, and walk back towards your house, the beach and conrad further away with every step you take.
it makes sense that way: you were always the one to leave first.
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sukunas-wife · 4 months
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hello 👋 I absolutely love your writing and it makes me soft 💗 can I ask for something soft with baby yuji who won't stop crying until dad sukuna comes home and bc reader left him with babysitter 🥹 anyway idk if u take anons but if u do can I be 🩵
🥹 Yuji’s the kinda kid who looks up to his dad no matter what, there is no wrong in his eyes. so I can see a confused Sukuna threatening a baby sitter because his son is crying and not running to him screaming daddy! 😭
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The palace was quiet aside from the fact Yuji was crying hysterically, his eyebrows furrowed and snot running down his nose. The babysitter was holding his kicking figure trying to get him to calm down. He was thrown halfway over his shoulder still reaching out for his mother who had left not too long ago. The babysitter finally relented, kneeling and setting Yuji down. “Hey buddy, I know you don’t spend a lot of time away from your parents but you’re gonna be okay we can play your favourite game. We can do anything you want.”
Yuji stood there fidgeting his hands, teary eyed as his bottom lip shook firm trying to hold back cries. “Cmon bud tell me what you want?” He held Yuji at arms length, looking hopeful now that the boy wasn’t screaming in his ear. “I wan..” his voice shaky “I WANT DADDY” he threw himself on the floor crying louder when he hit his head. The babysitter sighed, picking up Yuji and carrying him to the table, “Let’s get you something to eat, your mom left in such a rush I don’t know if you ate.”
Yuji sniffled, still teary eyed, when his babysitter left him alone at the table to run and get a quick snack. A mistake on his part, Yuji looked around before turning around and sliding off his chair. “‘M leaving.” Yuji ran to his room trying to hide under his bed when he heard his babysitter calling his name, and running around looking for him. “Hey bud! Yuji! Prince!?” He ran into the room stopping in front of his hiding spot, “Prince Yuji, your mom AND Dad gonna kill me if I lose you please!” His pleas were in vain when Yuji buckled down and refused to make a sound or come out. He was glaring at his babysitter’s feet, before he turned around and rushed out the room “where are ya kid?!”
As soon as the babysitter closed the door Yuji rushed out and to the tapestry on the wall wiggling to get behind it, “he won’t go to daddy’s room.” Just before he could jump to reach the door he felt something grab him and he screamed before busting out into tears. “DADDY HELP!” Flailing around while “Ryosuke” his babysitter tried to carry him back to the table, “Cmon Yuji! Ya gotta eat or at least work with me buddy.” He sat Yuji down at the table only for Yuji to look straight down with an angry pout, “Nu.”
“Please?” “Mm mm” He shook his head back and forth. “Please Prince Yuji?” “No!” He turned his back to Ryo trying to slip off the chair again only for Ryo to pull him back, “Can’t leave til we talk this out just tell me what I can do please?” Ryo was borderline begging only for Yuji to side eye him over his shoulder, with teary eyes “Hide and seek.” Ryo sighed “alright one game, but I’m hiding, you’d probably run out the house.”
Yuji just stared at Ryo with dry tears in his eyes, “…okay..” Yuji put his head down on the table counting, listening to Ryo walking away and out of the room. As soon as he was gone Yuji ran out the other side of the dining room and ran straight for your room, “he can’t catch me,” his little legs making it to his parents room he tried to quietly close the door before running to the bed clinging to the blanket trying to climb up. “Tora” Yuji grunted, finally climbing onto the bed where he snatched his stuffed tiger, hugging it. Everything was quiet, Yuji sat there with his back against the headboard. Bringing his knees up he hugged his plushie, before the tears started to quietly fall, “want my daddy..” he flopped over onto your pillow, the tears slowly falling while he looked out your room’s window. The sky was blue, the tree branches outside were big and green, the birds that used to sing in the morning and coo at night were gone… he was alone. He closed his eyes blindly reaching for the blanket to cover himself, there was a tight feeling in his little chest and he sniffled crying himself to sleep.
Yuji woke up hot, his face and body sweating. Tora was on the floor. His hair sticking to his forehead and he started to tear up until he heard a loud banging and screaming. “LORD SUKUNA! IM SORRY IM SO SORRY PLEASE FORGIVE ME I'VE BEEN LOOKING ALL DAY HE SAID HE THE YOUNG PRINCE! He said he wanted to play Hide and seek!- You fool you humans are useless pathetic excuses of flesh If I find my son and he’s hurt in any way IT. WILL. BE. YOUR. LIFE.” A loud thud, “URAUME don’t let him leave.” It sounded like Sukuna was snarling, “YUJI.” “Daddy!”
Yuji rushed, falling off the bed and jumping back up with Tora in one hand. He rushed to the door jumping to catch the knob. “YUJI” Sukuna’s voice was loud and clear through the heavy wooden door, “where the hell is MY SON.” Yuji could hear the loud banging and shocked gasps of the maids. Finally managing to get the door open he squeezed through “Daaaad!” Yuji stood in front of the door, red faced and happy to see his dad. Sukuna’s head snapped to look at his son, relief visibly washed over him. “Where wer- daaaaaad” Yuji started to cry for his dad, eyes closing when he rubbed his free hand against his eyes. Sukuna was shocked as he knelt down and called his son in a softer voice, “Come here Yuji.” Yuji sniffled and ran to his dad standing between his legs burying his face in his stomach trying to hug him the best his short chubby arms would. Sukuna’s stare softened as he ran a hand up and down Yuji’s back the boy’s cries and shaky breaths getting quieter the longer he was in his dads embrace. Picking him up as he stood, Yuji let his head fall on his dads shoulder hugging his tiger to his chest, his breathing was wheezy after crying himself sick. “What did this idiot do to you?” Sukuna turned to walk towards the babysitter who was kneeling rigid on the floor of the throne room. “…nothing..” was all Yuji mumbled when he saw the poor guy. “He didn’t hit you? Scare you? Make you cry?” Sukuna was staring down at his son. “No but he was annoying.” Yuji said, looking up at his dad. “Did you eat?” On que Yuji’s stomach grumbled, “no..” “He didn't feed you?” “I ran and hid..”
“Uraume,” Sukuna was staring the man down, Uraume left quickly “Yes Lord Sukuna.”
“You,” Ryo’s eyes quickly flicked up and down, not wanting to face Lord Sukuna, King of Curses for too long, “I’m feeling merciful.. Get out, and never come back by the time my son counts to five and I’ll let you live.”
“One… two…” Ryo struggled to get up, having already taken one hit from Sukuna, “uhh… three!” Ryo was managing to get out of the throne room to the door “Four… ehh ff..sss” Sukuna looked at his son confused, “six!” Yuji bounced, smiling up at his dad who was staring in disbelief. “Oh.. five!” The door closed by the time Yuji said five, “Really saved that guy huh?” Yuji hugged his dads neck “m hungry..”
“Let’s go, Uraume should be fixing something up, I’ll have to talk to your mother about those Damn babysitters too.” Yuji just smiled up at his dad, “You’re so strong daddy.”
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Tysm for ask 🩵
@sad-darksoul @cyder-puff @satorisgirl @bontensbabygirl @lupita97lm @sakuxxi @mercymccann @simpforyoubitch @certainduckanchor @domainofmarie @najiiix @bakugou-katsukis-wife
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solarmorrigan · 4 months
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For the angst prompt if you’re still doing it:
“Don’t listen to them. Don’t you EVER listen to them.”
Please
Hello! I'm afraid this one might not have come out quite as seriously as the others (might be channeling all my Serious Angst Energy into my ongoing fic at the moment), but hopefully it's enjoyable, anyway??
[No warnings except maybe some unkind self-directed internal dialogue from Steve]
-
“Y’know,” Eddie drawls, looking Steve up and down where he’s standing in the doorway, silhouetted by the light of the front hall, “correct me if I’m wrong, but you don’t look especially busy.”
Steve, caught out in a lie, clearly having been sitting around at home in his sweats when he’d specifically told Eddie that he couldn’t come over tonight because he was busy, does the only thing he can think of: he keeps lying.
“I am,” he says.
“Uh huh.” The way Eddie draws the hum of his agreement out says that he doesn’t believe Steve in the slightest. “And what, if I may ask, are you busy with, dressed in loungewear and sitting at home?”
Scrambling, Steve reaches for the first excuse that comes to mind, something he’d heard his mother say to someone over the phone years ago, when he was still a kid and she’d still made excuses to get out of social engagements and stay home with him.
“I’m washing my hair.”
Eddie bites down on a laugh so quickly and so visibly, Steve is surprised his teeth don’t go right through his lip.
“Are you?” Eddie asks, voice gone high and tight with mirth.
“Yep,” Steve answers.
“Well, damn, I don’t know why you didn’t invite me along to help,” Eddie says, grinning at Steve. “I feel like I’ve proven my skill in that arena before.”
Steve stares at Eddie, mouth working, feeling slow and useless and out of ideas. “Uh…”
With a sigh, Eddie lets his smile drop. “Look, can I come inside?”
The jig is up, so Steve just nods and steps aside to let Eddie in.
“What are you even doing here?” Steve asks as he leads the way back to the living room, where he’d been sitting on the couch and moping.
“Steve, I knew you weren’t busy tonight. You’re kind of a terrible liar,” Eddie says.
And that isn’t strictly true; Steve is a great liar – as long as he doesn’t feel guilty about it. He’s never been good at lying to people he loves.
They sit down; Steve shoves the magazines he’d been pretending he would actually be able to focus on out of the way (more proof of his pathetic attempt at a lie), and Eddie—ever blunt, ever direct—jumps right in.
“So I kind of feel like you’ve been avoiding me lately.”
Steve winces. “Not avoiding you, I’ve just been… limiting my time with you.”
Eddie looks stricken, and Steve would like to die, actually. Why did he phrase it that way?
“Did… I do something, or say something, or, like–”
“No!” Steve rushes to reassure him. “No, no, not at all, it’s nothing you did, you’re amazing, it’s not you, it’s…”
Eddie cocks an eyebrow at him. “It’s not me, it’s you?”
“I mean…” Steve sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Kind of, yeah.”
For a long moment, Eddie sits, brows furrowed, staring at Steve. Steve fights the urge to squirm under the intensity of his gaze.
“I’m trying super hard to figure out what’s going on right now, but I’m kind of coming up blank,” Eddie finally admits. “Are we… Are we breaking up?”
“No!” Steve blurts again, reaching this time for Eddie’s hands, as if he can keep Eddie from realizing what a goddamn idiot he is and leaving if he just holds on tightly enough. “Shit, no, that’s – I’m completely fucking this up, that’s the opposite of what I want to happen, that’s why I’ve been limiting my time with you.”
Though Eddie’s hands have turned in Steve’s grip, automatically holding onto him, he stares at Steve as though he’s lost his mind, which is fair. “Okay,” Eddie says slowly, “I admit you have a little more experience with relationships than I do, but isn’t the point to spend as much time as possible with the person you’re dating? Because you like them?”
“It’s… Usually, I guess, yeah.” Steve shrugs, suddenly wishing maybe that he hadn’t taken Eddie’s hands, because now he can’t get away, can’t duck out from under those dark, searching eyes. He settles for staring down at their joined hands as he speaks. “It’s just – I can be… kind of a lot? I like someone and I just kind of slam my foot on the gas and don’t look back and that’s too much, I know, so I’ve been trying not to, like, overwhelm you, because I really, really don’t want you to get sick of me, and–”
“Who the hell told you that?” Eddie cuts in sharply.
Steve’s eyes snap back up, finding Eddie looking so thoroughly offended that he’s not sure what to make of it. “Told me what?”
“That you’re too much,” Eddie presses, his hands going tighter around Steve’s.
“Uh,” Steve says, uncertain of what kind of answer Eddie’s looking for. The fact that Steve goes all-in too quickly is just common knowledge; the fact that it overwhelms and annoys people is kind of a general consensus.
Eddie shakes his head. “Never mind, it doesn’t even matter. Don’t listen to them. Don’t you ever listen to them,” he says, low and intense. “You’re not going to overwhelm me, Steve. I can’t get enough of you. I don’t think I’ll ever have enough of you, but the only way I’m gonna know for sure is if I get to have you around as often as possible for as long as you can stand me.”
The words, for a moment, don’t make any sense. No one has ever wanted Steve around that much; no one’s ever met him where he is in terms of hunger for companionship.
“You… want me around that often?” he asks, eyes flicking from Eddie’s face to their hands and back again.
“I want you around all the goddamn time. I want you when I wake up and when I go to sleep and when I’m having breakfast and when I’m doing shit around the house and when I’m playing a show and when I’m watching TV,” Eddie rattles off. “I’m not even exaggerating, it’s honestly kind of a problem.”
“A problem?” Steve asks, brows coming together in concern.
“It’s a problem because you’ve been limiting your time, thinking that I’m going to get tired of you.” Eddie disentangles their hands and reaches up to cup Steve’s jaw, palms soft and a little sweaty from their combined grip, but gentle—almost reverent—against his skin. “Sweetheart, I am never going to get tired of you.”
From anyone else, that would be hard to believe, but the way Eddie looks at him, dead-on and so fucking sincere, Steve can’t help but take the promise in with a hopeful flutter in his chest. He leans forward, pressing his mouth to Eddie’s, keeping the kiss chaste and slow before he pulls back to murmur, “Promise?”
“Promise,” Eddie answers immediately. “I promise, I promise, I promise.”
He tugs Steve forward after that, pushing and pulling him until he’s managed to lay out across the length of the couch and has situated Steve over him, lying on his chest like a weighted blanket. He sighs and wraps his arms around Steve, like he still wants to pull him closer.
“Perfect,” he says.
“Yeah?” Steve asks, balancing his chin Eddie’s sternum so he can smile up at him.
“Mhm,” Eddie hums. “Now I just have to figure out how to keep you this close all the time.”
“Might be kinda tough,” Steve says, fighting to keep his smile from growing to ridiculous proportions.
“Eh.” Eddie shrugs, ducking down to press a kiss to Steve’s forehead. “I’m willing to take the time to figure it out.”
And somehow, Steve thinks that might be the most romantic thing anyone’s ever said to him.
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Hey can I do a daemon x velaryon!reader where she is his wife instead of laena and he comes to genuine love her through the years more than anyone they decide to come back to kings landing for laena funeral and the reader start to notice how rhaenyra starts at daemon through the entire funeral. Reader go to talk with her kids ( maegor, rhaegar, and baelon) to introduce to their cousin and she notice that daemon has left and she can’t find rhaenyra. Reader brush off her worries because she trust daemon. Later through the accident with the kid she is in the hall when she sees daemon and rhaenyra walk through she notice rhaenyra looks a bit messed up like her hair and clothes and looks at daemon. Daemon can’t even look at the readers eyes because he knows she will figure out. After everyone goes to bed she want to ask the truth but finds out that’s her brother laenor has died, reader out of grief and sadness decide to stay at driftmark for few days with her parent and tells daemon she will meet him and the children at dragonstone. Daemon and rhaenyra marry each other at dragonstone and readers children literally fly out to driftmark all three of them and tell her what happened. Readers feels angry disgusted humiliated sadness , and she decide to stay at driftmark with her children and nieces and writes to daemon that if he comes and inch close to her or her children she will gladly feed him to her dragon( the cannibal), daemon still tries but her mother tells him to leave while he still can before she does something she won’t regret and how she regrets even letter her children marry daemon and rhaenyra. Couple years the kids has grown up her sons dragon are (greys ghost vervimathior and seasmoke her youngest claimed him after laenor death) and they go back to kings landing for luke positions and daemon sees her and immediately goes to talk with her ( he still loves her and want to work things out) rhaenyra doesn’t like this at all and follows him only for them to sees the reader talking to a little girl who is spit image of reader and daemon and daemon ask who the child is only to find out its their child (reader find out she was pregnant few days after founding out daemon and rhaenyra) daemon is angry that he misses his daughter birth but accept it since he deserve it. Rhaenyra ask for the girls name and reader smirks and says visenya
And some more angst please
Fire & Blood || D. Targaryen x Velaryon!reader
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GIF by @redbelles DIVIDERS by @straywords
a/n: I absolutely love this thank u for the request!! p.s this is the longest piece of ff i’ve written 😭 also keep in mind some of the events from hotd don’t happen in this and the the timings are different! And for the sake of my tiktok acc i’m making Elys as fc for the reader to make it easier for me to make tiktoks abt this!
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Your darling sister. She is dead. You broke down in your bedchambers as Daemon came up to you, engulfing you in a comforting hug as you continued sobbing. “Shh” Your husband ushered, trying to calm you down.
It absolutely broke Daemon’s heart seeing the person he loved most in his entire life so broken. He wiped the tears away as he planted a kiss on your forehead.
“Her funeral is to be held tomorrow, so rest my love” He whispers against your hair as you sniffle, moving your legs to your bed, Daemon soon following.
“She wanted to die a dragon rider’s death, not on her birthing bed” You quietly spoke, your back turned to Daemon, his hand laid rest on your hip drawing circles. “I know sweet girl” He replied. Your hand coming to his to squeeze it before moving closer to him.
~
She was gone. The emotions started rolling in as her casket submerged in the water. You sobbed as Daemon pulled you in to his chest, kissing your forehead.
You wrapped your arms around his torso as your three children clung to your dress. “Stay strong” He rubbed your back as you wipe your tears and face the front again.
Your heart broke seeing your nieces, Baela and Rhaena comforted by your mother. You also saw Rhaenyra and her two boys, Her eyes seemed to be fixated on the man beside you before she gives a small smile to you.
~
“Have you seen the children?” You walk up to Daemon, his eyes somewhere else. He doesn’t reply making you furrow your eyebrows. “Daemon.” You call out again, his eyes moving from the side to your eyes.
Your gaze follows where his eyes were and you lock eyes with Rhaenyra. Turning back around, Daemon looks down at his cup. “Do you know where our children are Daemon” You repeat, “They’re over there” He gently moves your shoulders towards the direction of the boys.
He wraps his arms around your waist and gives you a kiss, “I want to introduce them to their cousins,” You say, holding his hand on your shoulder as he smiles sweetly to you. “That’s a great idea.”
Walking up to your boys, Maegor, Rhaegar, and Baelon, you hug them all giving them kisses on their forheads. “My sweet boys, I want you to meet your cousins” You say to them as you lead them to Rhaena and Baela. You look around to find Daemon but he was no longer where he was.
“Auntie,” A voice calls out as you turn your head and spot Lucerys. Confused, you still give a smile and crouch to his level. “What is it Luke?” You question, “Have you seen my mother? She’s not here” At his words, you look around and he was right. Rhaenyra was nowhere to be found.
“Uh, I’m sure she is somewhere close by. Stay with me if you’d like” You kindly smile to the dark haired boy as he nods. You completely trusted Daemon. Though not the same could be said about Rhaenyra.
~
Your eyes take in the sight infront of you. Aemond infront of a maester as he stitched up his eye, Luke with a bloody nose and the disheveled appearance of your nieces who were in the arms of your mother Rhaenys.
You were accompanied by your three boys, Daemon was still nowhere to be found and you had been waiting in your bedchambers for him but he never returned.
The big doors suddenly open as Rhaenyra came into view. Her hair messy and her clothes untidy. What shocked you the most was Daemon who appeared behind her. He leaned against the door, his eyes looked around but they never met with yours.
You felt a string pull your heart, a pull of sadness. No, that wasn’t right. Daemon wouldn’t do that to you, or his children who he dearly loves.
You had no doubt of his loyalty. But you did remember how in the early years of your marriage that he was always cold to you. That was when you found out he was in love with his then 18 year old niece.
You were no stranger to the Targaryen’s customs in keeping their blood pure. But as the years went on and you produced heirs for Daemon and created a family, he no longer longed for Rhaenyra, but you instead.
A loud gasp escapes your lips as Alicent charges at Rhaenyra with a blade. Your eyes couldn’t help but notice how Daemon slightly moved, like he was contemplating in stepping in but stayed.
After the whole ordeal, Viserys ordered everyone back into their rooms. Your eyes tried to find Daemon but it was too crowded to see where he was. “Where’s father?” Your youngest, Baelon, questioned as you caress his cheek.
“I will find him, go with your brothers to your rooms” You say as they nod and leave. Before you could move further, you were pulled by the hand.
“Father-“ “Your brother is dead” You blink a few times, processing Corlys’ words. “I-“ You were shocked to say the least. How could this day get worse. Losing both your siblings in a span of a day. “H-how?” You stutter as you hug your father.
“We found him in the fireplace, a quarrel of some sort we believe” He says quietly. You knew he was trying his best to keep his composure. “Where’s mother?” You say looking up at him as he looks away.
“Your mother is not in great condition-“ “I will stay here,” You interrupt him, “for a few days atleast” You were both in shock and grief and wanted to stay in the comforts of your home with your parents.
Corlys gives a sad smile and nods his head, “Your mother would like that very much.” He says before a tear drops and he is once again in your embrace.
~
“The boys will go with you back to Dragonstone where I will meet you in a couple of days” You sadly smile, your hands locked with Daemon’s as he nods giving a quick peck on your lips.
Maegor, Rhaegar, and Baelon rush towards you engulfing you in a hug as Daemon watches. “Be good as always” You whisper to them as they nod and you watch as their boat leaves, Daemon on Caraxes as he soars in the sky.
~
After a few days at home in Driftmark, you had yet recieved any letters from your husband, Daemon. Usually he would write to you when you were apart but nothing had arrived.
“Princess, your sons are here” A handmaiden knocks on the door as you look towards your mother, you had not been expecting them. You hurriedly walk outside, Rhaenys close behind as your boys come running to you.
Worried and confused, you hug all three of them. “What is it? Where is your father?” You ask them as they exchange looks at one another. “Father married Rhaenyra!” Baelon lets out as your eyes widen.
“W-what?” You couldn’t believe your ears. Daemon, your loving husband marrying his niece Rhaenyra. No. “It is true mother, we watched father marry Rhaenyra” Your eldest, Maegor quietly said as tears started forming in your eyes.
You couldn’t help but feel a sense of betrayal and disgust. How dare Rhaenyra marry your husband after your brother died not long ago. “They killed my son, your brother y/n, so that they could marry” Your mother said through gritted teeth. A few tears roll down your cheeks as you hug your boys. They were your everything.
“We will be staying here from now on” You could tell your sons felt a sense of betrayal and hurt, as much as you did. They watched their own father marry their second cousin. Later that day, you decided to write a letter to Daemon. In the letter, you wrote that if he dared to come anywhere close to you or your children, you would not be afraid to feed him to your dragon, the Cannibal.
Not even a week later, the man had the nerve to show up at Driftmark. You had to ensure your dragon wasn’t anywhere close as he would have killed Daemon right there and then. You refused to go out and talk to him so your mother did.
You listened and watched from an open window, “I commend you for your bravery Daemon for showing up here. Though this will be your last time you ever set foot here at Driftmark or anywhere close to my daughter. I deeply regret letting my children marry you and Rhaenyra!” Rhaenys fumed as Daemon listened.
He continued to say nothing before nodding and turning around, making eye contact with you as you stare at him with no emotion. His eyes however, showed regret and sadness but you brushed it off.
~
6 years later…
You scoff at your mother’s words. “Luke is no true Velaryon and everyone knows that,” You stand up from your seat as Maegor looks at you. “My eldest, Maegor, is the rightful heir to the Driftmark throne, he is of my blood, true Velaryon blood”
As much as you liked the young boy, the matter of your son’s righteous title was on the line. You knew everyone would be on your side, apart from of course Rhaneyra. “Daemon would be an idiot to deny that his own flesh and blood is the heir to the Driftmark throne”
His name in your mouth was odd. You say his name with such disgust. “I would agree but he seems to be blinded by Rhaenyra now” Rhaenys gives a knowing look to her daughter.
You roll your eyes. Daemon had infact two sons with Rhaenyra and one still born daughter. Rumours had spread around saying that she gave birth to a half dragon.
“Viserys is dead, I hear Alicent and her father now rule before her son is crowned King. I dislike her truly, but she only has the right mind when it comes to birthrights” You smirk as your mother nods.
“We will travel to King’s Landing to take back what is rightfully yours Maegor” You place your hands on his shoulders as he nods at you.
“Prepare the dragons, we leave in the morrow.”
~
“My sweet girl!” You beam as you run up to your daughter, scooping her up in your arms. You had found out you were expecting a couple days after Daemon left Driftmark for good.
It saddened you at the same time as Daemon had always wished for a daughter and here she was, but he was in no position to be able to call her his daughter.
You gave your dragon, the Cannibal, pets as you had your daughter in front of you, gripping on the saddle. You take off and you smile at the sight beside you, Maegor on Vermithor, Rhaegar on Grey Ghost, and Baelon on Seasmoke, you late brothers’ dragon.
The sight was menacing and frightened everyone at Kings Landing. You smirk at the sight of all the dragon keepers scrambling around as you and your boys land your dragons.
“Touch any of them and my dragon will feed on you” You call out as Baelon snickers. “Ah, Princess, what a lovely delight to see you” Alicent acknowledges you and your children with a smile.
“Like wise, I am here to discuss my eldest Maegor’s birthright claim to Driftmark” You say as the Queen nods, “Of course, an audience is held today on that matter” “Thank you” You bow at her before you and your children walk into the Red Keep.
How dull the place was. It was cold and grey, definitely not fit for raising a family. You valued your years at Driftmark with your family. It was filled with nothing but happy memories after you completed your family. You often remembered how much Daemon disliked this place, saying that it was more of a prison than a castle.
~
“Who’s side are you on Daemon?” Rhaenyra shouts at him, Daemon was sat on a chair with his left hand massaging his temple. “I’m on no one’s side!” He yells frustratedly.
“But you know deep down Rhaenyra that your boy is no Velaryon, having him sit on the Driftmark throne is nothing but disrespectful and wrong. And you know that” He points at her.
Baffled at his husband’s words she spoke up, “It’s because he’s your son isn’t it?” She spat out. Daemon does nothing but groan and stand up.
His marriage with Rhaenyra was crumbling. At first it was perfect, an uncle who once longed for his niece was nothing but a memory. He was not happy as he used to be during his marriage with Rhaenyra, quite the opposite with you, he soon found out.
He remembers how he used to lust for Rhaenyra when she was all but a maiden, but now, she was a mother who birthed 5 children. She was different to what he wanted to believe.
He thought he could chase his younger days when Rhaenyra was in her late teens. But he was wrong. They were both dragons who clash all the time. He missed you. The simpler and happy days unlike the days he was going through in King’s Landing.
Constant fighting and being at each others throats. They both knew they were out of love for each other. “He is of Velaryon blood, is he not? His mother is a true blood making him heir” He retaliates, this argument going on for far too long.
“And you forget that Luke’s father is of true blood too!” Rhaenyra fires back, knowing her words were lies. This made Daemon laugh, “Lucerys is no son of Laenor, nor is Jacaerys or Joffrey. How long are you going to keep up this facade Rhaenyra?” The princess said nothing, she was infuriated with Daemon, as always.
~
You walk through the halls of the Red Keep with only your boys with you. The people who walked past awkwardly stare at you and your sons, some handmaidens of Rhaenyra most likely.
You wore a deep blue dress that cinched your waist and was a square neck exposing your collarbones. Your boys grew up into spitting images of Daemon, and so was your daughter.
The doors to the throne room opened infront of you as everyone turned their heads to your direction. You spot Alicent and her father infront of the Iron throne, her children to the left. Your mother had also arrived and brought along your nieces.
Your eyes then lock with Daemon’s for the first time in 6 years. You quickly look away from him and look at Rhaenyra who was throwing daggers your way. Maegor stares at Lucerys who shifts closer to his mother making him chuckle.
You stop in between the greens and blacks. Ever since you stepped into the room, Daemon’s eyes never left yours. You looked happy, and more alive than he felt. He then looks towards his three boy, all grown up and taller than you.
He adored them, they were his first children after all. “We gather today to discuss the rightful heir to the Driftmark Throne-“ Otto loudly says before interrupted Rhaenyra.
“Which is obviously Lucerys” She butted in making you look at her, “Speak when spoken to Princess,” Alicent calmly says making her look back to the front. “Princess y/n, state your case” Otto nodded to you.
All eyes were on you as you speak up, “If my son, Maegor was to cut his veins, pure Velaryon blood would spill out. If I was to cut Lucerys’, all but Velaryon blood would spill” You turn your head to Rhaenyra.
“Is that a threat Princess?” She sneered, holding her arm out infront of Luke as Daemon stood back without saying anything. “Would you like it to be? Your son is no Velaryon, everyone in this audience can agree. I will not have a fucking bastard sitting on my ancestral throne” You raise your voice, your body now facing hers.
“My brother would be ashamed of what is happening right now, he too knows that Maegor is the legitimate heir to the Driftmark throne. Not Lucerys.” You finish before turning back to the front, not before looking at Daemon who held a small smile.
“And to add to that, I have preposed a marriage between Maegor and Baela and Rhaegar and Rhaena” You smile towards your nieces as they smile back. Anger filled Rhaenyra. Ever since she saw your youthful looking face again, she couldn’t keep a scowl off her face.
Jealousy radiated off of her as she watched you walk down the stairs, you weren’t thickened in the waist unlike her even after birthing nearly the same amount of children, you didn’t have eyebags under your eyes and most of all, you seemed happy. Something she sought out from Daemon.
Rhaenyra also noticed the look Daemon gave her as she appeared, a look he hadn’t give her in a very long time. “Princess Rhaenyra, you may state your case”
And so she did, but it was filled with nothing but lies that she continued on. Everyone wore a bored expression as she defended her illegitimate son. A final ruling was put down, one that made Maegor heir to the Driftmark Throne.
After the crowds started filling out, Daemon had the urge to follow you and talk to you. He was no doubt still deeply in love with you. He thought marrying his niece would bring back the younger days he thoroughly enjoyed but no.
Instead, when he married her, only the days with you clouded his mind. Rhaenyra followed Daemon before they both stopped infront of an ajar door where their eyes widen in shock.
“Darling, come here” You crouched to meet her level as she wrapped her arms around your neck making soft giggles leave your mouth.
You were interrupted by the door opening. “Y/n…” Daemon started, his eyes on the little girl who looked too much like him. “What are you doing here” You questioned, placing your daughter back on the ground.
Before Daemon could speak up, Rhaenyra beat him to it, moving past him. “Who is she?” Rhaenyra questioned, you could have sworn you saw a glint of jealousy in her eyes as she looked at your daughter. “My daughter, Visenya” You proudly smirk.
You knew Rhaenyra had always wanted to name her daughter Visenya but the gods has other plans for her. “What a nice name” She shakily says before giving a tight lipped smile and rushing out of the room.
Your eyes then flicker towards Daemon who had an unreadable look on his face. “When did you find out” He questions calmly, closing the door.
“A couple days after you left Driftmark” You say in a monotone voice as Visenya busies herself with a toy. The two of you watch her as a small smile made itself on Daemon’s lips.
He hated himself so much. He hated how instead of being a faithful and loyal husband to the most beautiful soul, he decided to run after a childish dream.
“And you didn’t tell me? You didn’t think to inform your husband that you were pregnant with my child-“ “Don’t.” Your lips quiver as tears began to form. “You were not my husband. You were already married to Rhaenyra so why would I tell you?” You yell at him, your handmaiden quickly walking in to take Visenya.
“I know I made a stupid decision but she’s my child too! And you know how much I love our boys-“ He points to you, “You left them fucking traumatised! They had to watch their own father marry their second cousin. How fucked up is that?” Daemon stayed quiet at this.
You sigh before sitting down on the edge of your bed, “Does she even know who I am?” He quietly said, taking a seat beside you. “Of course not. She’s too young to understand and I don’t think I’ll ever be ready to tell her the truth” You look over to him.
He gulps but nods his head. “I understand” Daemon quietly says as you stand up. Smoothing out your dress, you start walking to the door. You give a final look towards Daemon, a single tear dropped before you quickly wipe it off and leave.
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Our Little Secret
kai parker x reader
summary: you should've known wearing a short little skirt would rile him up. but then again... maybe you did it on purpose. (80s!kai) (step-brother!kai)
tags: teasing, possessiveness, praise kink, degradation, dirty talk, oral sex, blowjobs, vaginal sex
word count: 4.2k
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“You look cute,” a male voice comes up behind you, “where are you going?”
You turn abruptly to see Kai, watching you from the other side of the kitchen. His gaze travels up and down your body, but he’s clearly staring at your ass. It almost makes you drop the soapy dish you’re holding. 
“Um, thank you.”
“Where are you going?” He repeats, eyes darkening.
“Nowhere.”
“Y/N-”
“I’m serious! I’m not going anywhere, I just felt like looking cute. Trust me, Kai. Do you ever see me leave this house?”
His jaw relaxes, knowing you’re telling the truth. “So you just felt like romping around in a short little skirt? Dad won’t be happy if he sees you in it.”
“Well Dad’s not here right now,” you point out. This is also true. Joshua was out for the weekend on coven duties. He won’t be back until late Monday. 
“Mom won’t like it, either.”
“She’s never minded me wearing what I want. As long as it’s appropriate to wear around the kids.”
“She scolded Jo just last week for wearing jeans that were too tight.”
“Well this is a skirt.”
“I can see the bottom of your ass, Y/N.”
“Why are you looking at my ass, Kai?”
“Because you have it on display for me to see.”
“I do not! I’m just doing dishes and minding my own business!”
“You would get so busted for that skirt if Mom saw. Joey would be staring, too. You know he has a crush on you.”
“Are you jealous?”
“No.”
“Then stop talking about my skirt and just… go away.”
“I came to get a snack.”
“Then get it and go.”
Kai crosses the kitchen towards the fridge, and you finally think he’s dropped it. With his back turned, you bend down to put the plate in the dishwasher, then continue soaping up another. Little do you know that Kai’s watching you through the metal reflection of the fridge door. He licks his lips when your ass is on full display. 
“Y’know this is my house,” he suddenly challenges. 
You whip around to face him, annoyed. “So?!”
“You can’t boss me around in my own house.”
“Do you pay the bills? Yeah, I don’t think so.”
“I was here first. And I’m older than you.”
“Do you want an award?”
He eyes your figure again. “Are you offering?”
“Ugh! Stop it!” 
“Oh don’t act like you don’t like the attention. Why else would you wear that pretty little piece in an empty house?”
“I didn’t feel like putting on pants.”
He chuckles. “Whatever you say, Y/N.”
You groan and turn back around, desperate to avoid his gaze any longer. 
Kai’s not completely wrong, but you’re not exactly lying, either. Yes, it’s true that you didn’t want to put on pants. Yes… it’s also true that you wanted to gain attention from your step-brother. There, you finally said it. You do like his attention. It’s his fault, though. He’s always flirting with you, regardless if the rest of the family is home or not. 
His eyes are always on you, at your back or front, whichever he can get. Countless times you’ve turned suddenly and caught him staring. A handful of those times, his own mother has tried to get his attention but struggled to pull it away from your breasts. His mother, of course, is none the wiser and assumes he’s daydreaming, but you know he’s not. He’ll smirk at you after, if he’s caught, and won’t let her believe anything scandalous was happening instead. 
Kai’s also gotten physical with you more times than you can remember. He’ll slide past you in a crowded kitchen, hands in the air as he’s banned from touching anyone, but his groin will brush your ass as he slinks across the room. Twice, you’ve felt the outline of his cock in his jeans when he did it. Both times, your face got so hot you needed to step away from the situation. 
He also has a habit of bumping into you. If you’re doing dishes or putting something away, he’ll suddenly appear, suddenly needing to do the same thing. Your shoulders or hips meet from his unexpected presence, and then he apologizes with a voice that does things to you. Either his morning voice, slightly rough, or his soft, midday voice, or the one heard at night, when he’s all talked out and dehydrated. Sometimes he’s close enough you can smell coffee on his breath, or mint, or even gin. Sometimes he lets his hand wander to the small of your back, or further down by your waist. When his family enters the room, he rips himself away from you. The bubbling warmth between you quickly goes cold and leaves you hungry. 
“Y/N… Y/N… hello?!” 
You blink twice, realizing Kai’s right next to you. A tupperware is in one hand, while the other waves in front of your face. “What?!”
“Jeez! Just asking if you wanted some of this.”
“What is it?”
“Leftover cake from Sarah’s birthday party. It’s chocolate,” he says the last part in a sing-songy voice.
“I know, I was there.”
“Do you want any?”
“No.”
“Awh, come on, Y/N… you know you do.”
“Fine. I’ll have a bite if you’re heating it up.”
His face breaks out into a grin and he mutters a celebratory, “yes!” to himself, then spins around to the microwave. 
“Put it all on a plate and gimme the dish. What’s one more dish to wash?”
“Okay. And thanks for doing that.”
“Mhm.” 
He leaves you alone while it warms. You turn slightly, wondering why he’s quiet, but see him on the other counter pouring two glasses of milk. You’re quick to face the sink again, not wanting him to see you looking at him. 
“So why cake?” You question as the two-minute timer beeps. “Don’t you usually eat pretty healthy?”
Kai shrugs. “Usually. But one dessert was denied, so I was craving something to fill its place.”
“What the fuck was- oh.”
“I mean, I’ll have two if you change your mind.”
You look down, avoiding his stupid smirk. 
“Kidding. Have a bite.”
Two minutes is the max time you get to eat in silence. After that, Kai swallows a big bite then looks back at you.
“In all seriousness, you do look really pretty.”
“Thank you,” you say, unsure how to take the compliment.
“Do you have a boyfriend?”
“What?”
“I’m just asking in case I have to kick someone’s ass! For like, brotherly reasons.”
You roll your eyes. “No, I do not have a boyfriend.”
“Good.” He’s then quick to follow with, “I mean, like, cause Dad would kick his ass, too. That, or turn him straight to dust. Poof! Did you know that Josette’s boyfriend had to go through three weeks of questioning just to take her on one date?”
“Yes, Kai, I was there. I’ve been living here for three years.”
“Right.”
“Did you see the time my brother got his ass beat for bugging me when I tried to eat?” You counter, challenging him.
“Joey?”
“No, dumbass, you.”
“Oh. Wait-” he puts his fork down as he realizes. “Sorry.”
You meant it as a joke, but his frown tells you he didn’t catch that. 
“Hey, I’m gonna go back upstairs. If you need anything, just let me know.”
“Wait, Kai!” He doesn’t stop. “Kai!” You try again, reaching out to grab his arm. 
He freezes, not used to such direct contact. 
“I was joking, Kai,” you look in his eyes to say. “I promise. I really do like your company.”
“No you don’t, I bother you as much as I bother Jo.”
Your grip tightens. “No, you don’t. Kai, I’m serious. And I’m sorry. It went too far.”
Finally, he turns to you. “Honest?”
“Honest.”
“Pinky swear?”
You snort, then realize he’s serious. “Pinky swear.”
He grins at this, then slowly returns to the side opposite you, where he had been only seconds ago.
“As a matter of fact,” you continue, “you don’t bug me at all.”
He chuckles and looks at the floor. “I’m sure I bug you a little.”
“No, you really don’t.”
“What about earlier? That wasn’t annoying?”
Now or never to confess. You pick the former. 
“Oh, no. I certainly do enjoy your attention. Even when it's on my ass.”
“Oh, do you now?”
You don’t answer. Instead, you bring your chocolatey fork up to your lips, licking the whole length, and sticking your tongue out to him. You keep eye contact with him, watching his cheeks flush bright red. 
“Y/N…”
“What? We’re all alone… I’d be lying if I said I didn’t partially wear this little skirt for you.”
His adam’s apple bobs in his throat.
“Awh, what happened to the bold Kai I know that will rub his morning wood against my back in the middle of a crowded kitchen? Is he shy?” You tease.
“Y/N, you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into…”
“Oh, I think I do. Come on… I bet an afternoon hard is just as satisfying. Oh, but maybe we should wait a couple hours, for when I can literally taste the gin off your breath. Aw, nah, because then the window of opportunity will close. Jo will be home, and all those kids, and you’ll have to see your little brother blush at me without the pride of having owned me earlier in the day.”
“Y/N,” his voice is raspy. His hand ghosts over his pants, and when you follow the movement with your eyes, you see he’s rock hard. 
“Come on, Kai… You want to be a good stepbrother and beat up my nonexistent boyfriend? Well be a better one and fuck me right now.”
He only hesitates for a second more before rushing forward, pressing your back up against the sink, and kissing you roughly. He grips the countertop with one hand, your waist with the other. The plate of chocolate crumbs clatters into the sink, piercing your ears, but neither of you care. Your hands find his cheeks to get a grip. You hold them gently, but they’re burning in your hands. He’s a good kisser, despite having no experience. Before you know it, you’re both out of breath. 
“Kai,” you try to say his name, but it comes out in more of a moan. The two of you are separated, panting, and staring at the other. 
“You okay?”
“Perfect.”
He smiles, then starts to trail kisses down your neck. Your hands find his hair and pull at the roots. 
“Jump up,” he mutters. You do, and he catches your hips. He carries you to the other side of the counter, then sits you up on it. With gentle movements, he leans your back against the cabinet door. Had he sat you up by the sink, you would’ve had no support for your back. You give him a sloppy kiss as a thank you. 
Kai smiles at you, but then instead of going back to your neck, he crouches just a little on his knees. As soon as you realize what he’s doing, you let out an involuntary whine. Your hands bunch up your skirt and he smirks.
“Smart girl.” He wastes no time pulling down your thong, then stuffing it in his back pocket. The cold air only hits your core for a second before his fingers find your clit, rubbing gently. 
“Ohh, Kai,” you whine.
“That’s it, princess. Keep whining for me.”
You let out another, this time, between sealed lips. 
Kai puts a finger in you without warning. “Louder, baby.”
“Kai, I can’t.”
“Oh, yes you can. No one else is here.” He puts in another. 
You can feel the soft pads of his fingers on your walls. “More,” you whimper. 
“Good girl,” he praises.
You squeeze your eyes shut as wetness gushes from your body. You’ve always had a praise kink, and he’s about to find out. 
“You like that?”
You nod quickly.
“Well keep it up. Keep making those sweet little sounds for me.”
You nod again, eyes still closed. With your eyes shut, though, you have no warning when his nose is suddenly grazing your clit. As soon as it touches, though, you let out a loud moan, almost pornographic. 
“Good girl,” he says again, hot breath up against your core. Then, it’s his tongue making contact with your clit. He teases the nub with the tip, then slides it between your folds.
Your hands dig in his hair and moans fly out of your mouth. “Kai!”
He doesn’t answer this time. All his focus is on you. Two fingers still explore inside, while his tongue laps up your wetness. Obscene slurping sounds fill the room, mixed with your own cries. Kai can’t even catch all of it with his tongue - some drips to the title floor with a loud splat, and you can feel the curvature of his lips against your skin. 
The boy is an expert, despite probably being a virgin. He knows just how to flick his tongue; just how to curl his fingers. 
“Kai, I’m coming,” you cry out, gripping the countertops. Your hands are sweaty and you almost slip. In an instant, his hands catch you, even the one that had been inside your heat. “No, don’t stop what you’re doing,” you mutter, eyes rolling in the back of your head.
“Sorry, princess,” he replies, putting them back. He then finds the pace he had before, and works to bring you back to the edge. 
Moments later, your orgasm is the most powerful you’ve ever had. No other man, nor your own fingers have ever done justice to what he could do with his tongue. He sucks and finger-fucks you throughout your orgasm, paying no mind to the way you squeeze your legs around his head, nor the way you begin to ride his face as you come. Kai doesn’t let up until your legs are shaking, and your heavy moans become little whimpers. Only then, does he stand back up and smile at you. 
“You okay?”
“Fuck, Kai.”
“Too much?”
“No. Never.”
“Too much for round two?”
“What?” You mutter, out of breath.
“We can stop if you’re tired.”
You fight to catch your breath, and in that time, happen to glance down. Your eyes go wide as you notice he’s pulled out his cock. Stiff as a board, red, and oozing with pre-cum, it rests in his hand. 
“No, no stopping. Just… give me a minute.”
“We don’t have to, princess.”
“No, I want it. I want you.”
You then make an attempt to jump down from the countertop, but your arms are still shaky. He catches you in an instant, an eyebrow raised.
“Where are you going, little peach?”
A tired whimper escapes the back of your throat as you open your mouth to speak. Despite the grip he still has on both your arms, you manage to sink down to your knees. Halfway down, Kai realizes what’s happening and lets go. 
“Aw, does my little bunny want to suck her stepbrother’s cock?” Kai takes himself in his hands and levels with your face. “You’re a good girl, you know that?”
You blush, and fight the urge to turn your face away. 
“Eyes on me,” he says, seemingly knowing your thoughts. 
You obey him, eyes bouncing between his face and his length. Your heart speeds up at the prospect of taking it. Of feeling it heavy in your mouth; feeling it hit the back of your throat. 
“Can I?”
“Go ahead, princess.”
Your hands join his. Your eyes roll back in your head at how good it feels. When you look up to him, he nods, and you dart your tongue out to taste the pre-cum leaking from the tip. It’s thick, and salty, and if that’s just your first taste, you know you need to start working for more. You lick the head, swirling your tongue in circles. Your lips suck the first few inches. 
“No more teasing.” He tries to be stern, but it comes out in a moan. 
You then put a hand on his thigh for a better grip. The jeans underneath your skin are uncomfortable. 
“Off,” you mutter, hands flying to his belt. 
“Hm? Oh.”
But you’re faster than Kai. Before he can give you any help, you’re unbuckling the metal and peeling his pants down his legs. You’re sure to be careful at his cock, though, pulling it back through the zipper hole, then letting it free.
Kai steps out from the pool of his pants. “Better for you now?”
“Mhm,” you mumble, lips pressed on his length. The action sends vibrations all over and he can’t help but moan again.
Your hand on his thigh squeezes his skin enough that it’ll bruise under your fingernails. Kai only has a second to concentrate on this, though, because in the next second, you’re licking a stripe from his balls to his head. Your tongue is dense against a prominent vein, earning another sound from him. Kai’s hands dig into your hair. He fights the urge to buck his hips into your mouth. 
“Y/N,” he warns. If you don’t stop teasing now, he’ll do just that.
Luckily, you catch onto his need. Your lips curl around his head, tongue flat, and you begin to move up and down on his length. You start slow, but as he gets wetter, your lips glide better. The hand holding him no longer has a use, the first time you take him all the way. It slips further back to tug on his balls, while his tip hits the back of your throat repeatedly. 
Kai keeps his hands on you, buried in your hair, scratching your scalp. Profanities tumble from his lips; words that if his dad were to hear, he’d be beat for days. You smirk against his cock, knowing he can feel your lips curving. 
“You’re a naughty little thing, peach. You like that?”
You respond by not losing pace, not slowing down for a second. 
“Mhm,” he confirms, “what a good little slut you are. Taking her brother’s cock so well. Tell me, princess, is this something you think about at night? How many times have you touched yourself to the thought of this happening?”
Again, you don’t answer. 
“One? Two? Three? More?”
Your hand on his balls travels up to squeeze his ass. The skin is soft between your fingers, and you quickly put your other hand on his other cheek.
“I’ll take that as more than three times,” he chuckles. 
You pinch his cheek unexpectedly, making him jolt. His reaction makes you giggle. When you look up to see his reaction, there’s a smile on his face, too. 
“You look beautiful on your knees for me,” he praises. But then his hands find your face and he slowly eases you off his cock. “So, so beautiful. But I’m getting close and I need to be inside you.”
You nod, wanting the same. 
Kai then grabs you from under your armpits, helping you to your feet. When you’re stable, he hoists you back onto the countertop. Not a moment later, he’s kissing your lips, sore, and red from sucking. Then, at the same time that he hitches your skirt back up your thighs, he presses kisses all around your face. You giggle, his lips tingling your skin, and wrap your arms around his neck. 
“Are you ready?” You shake your head ‘yes’. “Need a minute?” You shake it ‘no’. “Okay. Tell me if you need me to stop.”
“Okay.”
Kai holds your back steady. His cock is in his other, glistening with your spit; teased, and in need of release. He pushes into you slowly, letting you adjust. He keeps an eye on your face, watching for signs; hoping for pleasure, prepared for pain. Your eyes flutter as he passes your folds. Your mouth hangs open, spit dribbles from your bottom lip. The pair of you moan at once, both relishing in the feeling of his cock inside you. He smiles at the simultaneous sound of pleasure.
“Are you doing okay?”
“Mhm.”
“Words, please, princess.”
“Yes, Kai,” you manage. 
“There you go. Good girl.”
“Go faster.”
“Already? Alright. Gotta give my good little slut what she wants.” 
You duck your head in embarrassment. The way he switches between praise and degradation does something to you that you can’t explain. Your core is so sopping wet that he slides in and out painlessly. He pulls out nearly all the way, then slams back into you hurriedly. 
“Ah, ah, eyes on me. I want to look into your pretty little eyes while I ruin you.”
You whine at his words and tighten your arms around his neck.
“Perfect. Keep making those sounds, Y/N. You know the drill by now.”
Kai finds a pace that suits you both. Sweat drips from his forehead and his mouth hangs open, out of breath, but he isn’t slowing down. You’re grateful that he’s holding your back, otherwise you would’ve fallen by now. 
“Kai!” You cry, hooking your legs around his waist to bring him even closer. He groans, and you decide to feed into that dirty talk he seems to like. “You fuck me so well. You’re a perfect fit for my tight cunt - oh!”
As expected, he loves it. “You bet I am, princess. Have you ever had anyone else fuck you this well?” 
“No! You know just what I need.”
“Not even that boy you went to prom with last year? I heard you telling Jo about your little after-party with him.”
“I just imagined he was you, Kai,” you admit. “And any hookup since, I just pretend it’s you fucking me into oblivion.”
Fire burns in his eyes. A possessiveness that tells you all you need to know - he owns you now. You’re his girl. There will be no more pretending, because he’ll be the only one fucking you. 
Kai continues to pound into you, but he’s getting sloppier by the second. He’s close, and you are, too. 
“I’m gonna come, Kai,” you pant, running a hand through his hair. It’s wet with his own sweat, and when you push it up, some of the strands stay. 
“Do it. Come for me. I’m close behind you.”
Permission granted, you orgasm a second time. Your body shakes and moans tumble from your lips. His name is mixed in with them; you chant it over and over like a prayer. 
“I don’t want to come in you, baby,” he manages to say. “Where should I-?”
You lift your shirt up over your head before he can finish his sentence. Kai’s eyes immediately go to your breasts, confined within your bra, but pushed up from the underwire. In the same moment he pulls out, you unclasp the hook on your back. Your tits bounce out from their cage just to be pelted with cum a moment later. You moan again, pleasured by the warmth of his seed on your body. 
Kai’s hands fall to the countertop as he tries to keep himself upright. The sounds falling from his lips are obscene, and beautiful, and you love every one of them. His eyes roll before looking into yours. Both of you take a minute to recover. 
“Your tits,” he finally says, still catching his breath, “are beautiful. Should’ve taken that bra off a long time ago.”
“There’s always a next time,” you suggest, hoping to see that glint in his eye. 
The words take a moment to register in his brain. When he looks back up at you, though, you see it. The possessiveness; the mischievousness. You’ll never belong to another man again. 
“Definitely a next time,” he repeats. 
Satisfied with the answer, you feel a small tension in your jaw relax. You look down at your breasts, sticky with drying cum, and swipe a bit of the load on your finger. Kai watches you suck it off, then go back for more. Once your chest is clear, you smack your lips. 
“You’re crazy, Y/N,” he leans forward and nips one of your tits. You giggle, then cover your front with your hands. Kai quickly grabs your hands, then sucks on the other tit. “That’s why I like you. Part of it, at least.” He drops your hands and looks you in the eye, completely serious. 
“I like you, too, Kai.”
He helps you off the counter in his next stride. You’re smoothing out your skirt, and he pulls up his pants, when he suddenly asks, “was what you said true?”
“When?”
“About the prom. And the hookups. Do you really imagine me?”
“It’s the only way I can get off.”
His face breaks out in a stupidly happy grin. “Does Jo know?”
You snort. “I wish. But of course not. It’s my little secret.”
“Well now this is our little secret,” he points a finger between the two of you. 
“That it is. And I just happen to be amazing at keeping secrets.” You throw him a wink, and then the two of you spend the rest of the afternoon talking, with the occasional break for a make-out session. 
650 notes · View notes
thatgirlstrawberry · 1 year
Text
Teach Me?
Feb. Requests - 1
In which Spencer asks the reader for help after he buys a keyboard.
Warnings: Smut!!! Fluff, cute/awkward!Spence, making out, oral sex(m), soft dom!Spencer? Hair pulling?, protected piv sex(be safe y’all), lmk if I missed anything!
Spencer Reid x fem!reader
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Spencer’s breath shook as he dialed Y/N’s number. He bit his lip before inhaling deeply.
The phone rang twice before Y/N’s sweet voice filled his ears. “Hello?”
The man smiled. “H-hi, Y/N! It’s S-Spencer.” He spoke quickly. “Are you busy?” He asked. He knew she was at work at this moment. She worked at the music store across the street from his favorite coffee shop.
They met when she was getting coffee before having to go to work. Spencer insisted on walking her across the street after they’d talked for thirty minutes.
“Uh… not right now. I do have a kid coming in for a lesson in five minutes, though.” She said. Spence could tell she was smiling.
“I uh…” He cleared his throat. “I had a case the other day a-and then I went out and bought a keyboard because of this little boy that I worked with.” He started off. He wondered if he was talking too much, if he should just get to the point. “Uh… and this was an impulse decision because I don’t actually know how to play any musical instruments. I did try to play the trombone in high school but I got made fun of and-“
Y/N giggled quietly. “Spence, did you want me to stop by when I get off of work? I can teach you to play.”
Spencer smiled at her warm tone. “Yes, thank you. I would really appreciate that.” He nodded even though she could see him.
-at the music store-
“Okay, great! How’s your day going so far?” Y/N asked, leaning over the counter. She glanced up at the door when an elderly woman and her husband came in. She shot them a smile and they nodded at her.
Spencer cleared his throat. “I’m good, just doing paperwork today. I’m actually about to head home. How’s your day?” he asked.
Y/N sighed and looked down at the lesson sign up sheet. “Good. Though, I had a fourteen year old scream at me because she couldn’t figure out how to play Twinkle Twinkle little star.” She giggled.
She heard Spencer laugh. “Well I promise I won’t scream at you, Y/N/N.”
Y/N checked her watch and saw a boy and his mother coming in. “That’s good, Spence. Hey, look— I gotta go but I’ll see you tonight?”
“Yes- yeah, I’ll see you tonight.”
She said goodbye and hung up the phone, sliding it in her back pocket, waving at the boy and his mom. “Hey, Kevin! Ready to be a rockstar?”
.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.
Spencer sped around his apartment making sure that everything was perfect and neat.
He didn’t have a bench to set in front of his new keyboard so he moved his coffee table into the kitchen and pulled the instrument in front of his couch.
He had also stopped at Y/N’s favorite Italian place and got dinner. He stopped in front of the door when he turned back and realized that this might have been too much.
Before he could scramble around again and unnecessarily move things, there was a knock at the door.
He silently cursed and shut his eyes. He exhaled deeply and opened the door with his eyebrows raised and a smile on his lips. “Y/N, thank you so much again for coming over.” He greeted.
“I couldn’t say no to my favorite guy!” She smiled, walking past him into the apartment. “And I got dinner from your favorite Chinese place.” She smiled nodding down at the brown paper bag in her arms. “I should have called and asked if you had eaten but- oh.” She stopped when she saw the containers from her favorite food place.
Spencer blushed as she turned around. “I- got dinner too.”
Y/N smiled. “Well who says we can’t have Spaghetti and fried rice?”
Spencer subtly admired her as she went to set the bag in the kitchen. “Why is your coffee table in the kitchen?” She giggled.
Spencer followed behind her, scratching the back of his neck. “I needed space for my keyboard, so I put it in front of my couch so we had space.” He finally got a good look at her outfit.
She wore a pair of really tight skinny jeans, that showed off the curve of her ass and hips perfectly and a loose red sweater. Spencer was glad she wasn’t looking at him because then she would have seen him visibly gulp as he gawked at her beautiful curves.
Y/N nodded and laughed. “Okay. Is it okay if we start after we eat? I didn’t get a lunch break because freaking Kevin couldn’t get the keys right.” She rolled her eyes sarcastically.
“Freaking Kevin.” Spencer joked, rolling his eyes as well. “Yeah, let��s eat.”
.•.•.•.•.•.•.
Y/N laughed as she finished her egg roll, looking away from Spencer who had his mouth dropped open in shock as they finished an episode of Hoarders on Netflix.
“She has cat poop in bottles!?” He exclaimed after chewing a meatball. Y/N nodded as she laughed, leaning against his shoulder.
After a moment more of laughter, the two quieted down and looked at each other. She cleared her throat and looked away from him. “Okay, tonight we’re gonna start with the letters that correspond with the keys.” She spoke. “It’s called a staff.”
Spencer nodded along, sitting up on the couch after turning the TV off. She scooted up and sat in the edge of the couch, looking back at Spencer.
“Wow, this has 88 keys.” She whispered with a smile. “Come here.”
Spencer immediately scooted up next to her and gazed at her as she let out a quiet breath. “Okay, start down here.” She smiled, reaching across Spencer to tap the very first key. “This key is A.”
The man held his breath as her arm brushed his chest. She pressed down on the key and began to move her fingers down. “Then, you just keep going down the keys until you stop at G. Then you start over.” She moved her arm back to her side slowly, almost teasingly.
“Uh… w- uh what are the black k-keys?” He asked, already getting flustered at their closeness.
Y/N chuckled. “These are sharps and flats.” She said pushing the black key closest to her. “Basically, it’s the sharp of whatever note to the left of it and a flat to whatever note to the right.”
“S-so if I play…” He pressed his finger down on the A key. “This one,” He pressed the black key to the right of it. “Is A sharp?”
Y/N’s eyes lit up. “Exactly!” She nodded, placing her hand on his bicep. “Now find… G, play that and then play G sharp.” She instructed.
He hesitantly did as he was told and Y/N hummed. “Perfect.” She smiled.
An hour later, Y/N yawned as she watched Spencer play notes painfully slowly. He noticed this and turned to her. “I’m sorry, are you tired?” He asked.
“Just a little bit it’s okay, I can stay.” She shook her head, her tired eyes betraying her.
Spencer shook his head as well. “No, it’s okay. And you’re working tomorrow.” He smiled. “Go home and get some rest.”
Y/N opened her mouth to object but Spencer raised his eyebrows. “Fine. But I’ll be back over tomorrow night and we’re gonna get down and dirty with this keyboard, okay?”
His heart skipped a beat when she smirked at him. “O-okay.” He nodded.
Y/N got up from the couch and made her way over to the door, Spencer following close behind. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Beethoven.” She winked.
Spencer gulped again, opening the door for her. “See you tomorrow, Y/N/N.”
.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.
Y/N bit her lip as she walked up the stairs to Spencer’s building. Her hands were sweaty so she kept running them along her gray tank top.
She wore tight black skinny jeans because she had caught Spencer eyeing her body in them the night before. She also wore a pair of black boots that laced up in the front.
When she met Spencer, a crush was born immediately. He walked her across the street to her job when they ran into each other (literally) at the coffee shop.
Now, he was one of her closest friends. But she just goes that they’d turn out to be more.
She approached his door and exhaled deeply as she stopped in front of it. She smiled and knocked on the door quickly.
She heard shuffling inside and a thud followed by a string of what was supposed to be quiet curse words.
“Shit! Fuck, ow! Mother fucking dick sucker!”
Y/N grimaced as she heard a loud sigh and heavy footsteps traveling towards the door.
It swung open and there stood Spence with sopping wet hair. “Y/N/N, hi.” He smiled, panting a bit.
Y/N’s eyes widened. “Hey, Spence… what’s… uh what’s going on here?” Her eyes glanced at his dripping hair.
“Sorry, I just got out of the shower. I thought you would be here a little later. But come in!”
Y/N smiled as he stepped aside and she walked into his apartment. It was set up in the exact way it had been last night and she gasped. “Food!” She spun around after spotting a bag from The Cheesecake Factory.
Spencer chuckled. “And cheesecake.”
Y/N laughed. “Oh, I think I love you.” I do love you.
The man smiled and walked forward. She caught his eyes betraying him as they did a quick once over of her body and outfit. She inwardly celebrated and sat down on his couch.
She looked down at the keyboard and pressed a few keys before playing a simple song. It was the Barney theme song. When she was down, she looked up at Spencer. “That’s what you’ll be learning today.”
He chuckled. “We’re getting down and dirty with Barney?”
Y/N laughed out loud and sighed. “Yes, exactly. Now let’s sit and eat and watch another crazy reality show.” She patted the spot next to her and Spencer grabbed the bag of food and brought it over as she grabbed his remote control.
They ended up watching Love Is Blind for an hour and it had Y/N in a rather romantic mood. “She sighed as the second episode ended and looked over at Spencer who had been oddly quiet.
“Spence, are you okay?” She asked, sitting up. He looked down at her, a smile growing on his lips.
“Toni and Andrea are gonna end up getting married. They’re in love with each other.” He told her.
Y/N raised her eyebrows. “Do you think he’ll love her even with the big wart on her forehead?” She asked.
Spencer chuckled. “He’ll love her, wart and all.”
Y/N smiled and giggled. “Thank you for dinner.” She nodded. “I shall now pay you back in musical favors.”
The man nodded and they got situated on the couch when they were sitting, thighs touching— god her thighs.
Spencer thought. He just wanted to spread them open and bury his hea-
“Spencer?” Y/N’s voice pulled him out of his particularly dirty thoughts and he cleared his throat. “Now that you’re back on earth, do you remember l- who am I kidding, you remember everything.” She rolled her eyes with a playful smile.
“Yeah-“
“Don’t you dare start bragging Spencer Reid.” She laughed, placing her hands over some of the keys on the keyboard.
Spencer laughed along with her and he watched her hands. “How are you gonna teach me this song?”
Y/N smiled. “I’m gonna play a couple notes, you copy me.”
She bit her lip when he nodded and began playing.
G, G, D, D, E, E, D
Spencer stared at her lips as they parted. When she looked at him, he quickly looked back down at the black and white keys. He shakily played the same pattern that Y/N had.
After he was done, he looked at her smile. “Good.” She said.
Something in the air shifted around them. Spencer’s hear word up. Y/N felt her breath hitch. “So… then you… um you play…”
She played the next 7 notes and looked up at Spencer. “So… you that’s C, C-“
She stopped when she went to play the note again at the same time Spencer did. He stared at her, she stared at him.
His eyes glanced down at her lips and they transformed into magnets. Their lips touched softly for a few seconds until Spencer pulled away. There was a blush on her cheeks and her eyes followed him as she looked away from her.
“I’m sorry. I… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” He shook his head. “I just… I really like you but I know you don’t like me like that—“
“Spencer—“
“And I don’t want you to think I’m trying to take advantage of you a-and our time because I-“
“Spence, wait a sec-“
“I’m really sorry, Y/N. I understand if you want to leave.” He shook his head and finally forced himself to look at her. “Why are you smiling?”
Y/N’s grin widened. “Because you’re the smartest man in the world and a behavioral analyst yet you couldn’t tell that I’ve like you since we met.”
Spencer’s eyebrows raised a little. “Wha- you have?”
Y/N hummed and nodded. “Of course I like you. Have you met you?” She giggled.
Spencer smiled. “I… I just thought that I was imagining things-“
“Spencer,” Y/N spoke. He stopped talking. “Can you kiss me again?”
The man let his tongue dart over his lips and he leaned forward again, this time with some passion. His lips tangled with hers and his hands found the sides of her face. She gripped his shoulders and sighed into the kiss.
Spencer’s tongue darted out, pushing at her lips. She opened her mouth a little wider and let his tongue slide into her mouth.
She hummed one of his hands slid from her face to the Sid rod her neck and kept going down, stopping at the curve of her waist.
She was the first one to pull away. “Spence…” She bit her lip as she stared at him damn near panting.
He pulled her back in before sliding both hands down to pull her onto his lap. Her knees separated and now she was straddling him.
Her lips met the corner of his mouth before they trailed down to his jaw. “Do you know *kiss* how *kiss* long I’ve been waiting to *kiss* kiss you like this?” She asked.
Spencer squeezed her hips before they went even lower, resting under her thighs. “Trust me, it’s been the same.” He groaned. “Torture.” He whispered before grabbing her jaw gently and pushing his lips on hers.
Y/N was surprised. She didn’t think Spencer would take that kind of… power. She moaned into his mouth when the hand gripping her jaw fell between them and onto her thigh and he started to rub it softly.
Her hips subconsciously moved as the kisses deepened and sped up. Spencer grouped her hips again, helping them move across his lap.
She felt him grow hard and opened her eyes, pulling away. She lazily smiled at him as he continued to move her against him. “I can feel your friend down there.”
She thought this comment would make him blush and stutter but what he said next shocked her and gave her butterflies.
“And I can feel how wet you are even through these little jeans.”
Y/N blushed and he smiled. “Well, you are hot as fuck so it’s kinda hard to stay dry when your lips are on me.”
Spencer chuckled and her hands glided over his chest and then his shoulders. She bit her lip and stared at his beautiful, sexy face.
His fingers unbuttoned her jeans as he stared at her. “Is this okay?” He asked softly.
Y/N bit her lip so hard that she almost made herself bleed. “It so okay.” She nodded.
Spencer smiled and pulled down the zipper. “I love you in these jeans.” He told her. She lifted up so he could pull them down.
Y/N nodded and laughed breathlessly as she shimmied out of her pants. “Yeah, I know.” She shrugged. Spencer looked confused but leaned in to kiss her neck. “You might be the behavioral analyst but I so caught you staring at my ass last night.”
Spencer chuckled into her neck and he played with the lace hem of her underwear. He sucked on a spot repeatedly when he noticed how her body reacted.
Y/N moaned and let her hands fall into his curls as her hips resumed movement. “Spence…”
He hummed and licked the spot on her neck.
“Can I… can I do something for you?” She asked, a blush taking over her cheeks.
Spencer pulled his face out of the crook of her neck and looked at her. “What baby?”
Y/N swallowed and bit her lip. “Y’know…” She got off of Spencer’s lap in a swift motion. He grabbed her hips confused but he almost lost his composure when she got of her knees. “Can I?”
Spencer nodded. “Shit, Y/N.” He whispered when she smiled and reached for his belt. He swallowed as she undid it skillfully and placed her hands on his thighs.
Spencer lifted his hips and quickly pulled his pants off leaving him in his boxers. His hard dick pressed against the fabric.
Y/N maintained eye contact with him as she leaned forward and trailed her finger along the waistband of his boxers.
“Shit, Y/N. Don’t be a fuckin’ tease.” He groaned. Y/N gave him a look and quickly pulled his boxers down, audibly gasping.
“Holy fucking shit, Spencer.” She glanced up at his face.
Spencer was going to say something but his brain fogged the second he felt her hand wrap around the base of his cock and her lips on the tip.
“Fu- Y/N.” He squeezed his eyes shut before opening them to see her lower her head down more, taking more of him into her mouth.
All while her eyes were still on his. Her nails dug into his thighs and he placed his hand on her head. “Fuck, such a good job.” He breathed out.
Y/N moaned around him and shut her eyes as he gripped her hair gently and helped her head go up and down.
She continued to suck for another minute before Spencer pulled her head up softly. She looked up at him with confusion in her eyes. “Was that not good? I’m s-“
“No, baby.” Spencer shook his head, moving his hand to her chin and using his thumb to wipe her lips. “I was gonna come but I need you to finish first.”
Y/N blushed and licked her lips. “Me first?” He stood up, looking down at her.
“You first.” He nodded, pulling her off of her knees. “Always.” He kissed her heatedly, gripping her hair again.
She bit her lip as he grabbed her hips pulling her into him. “Do you have a condom?” Y/N asked, pulling away.
Spencer nodded, not being able to resist kissing her again. “Jump.” He whispered between kisses.
Y/N did as he told her and wrapped her legs around his waist. He held her up with his arms underneath her ass.
He carried her into his bedroom, lips never leaving each other’s. She whined softly when he put her down on his bed and walking away from her. She watched him walked over to his bedside table and opened it, searching around for a moment.
He pulled out a shiny golden packet and stuck it between his teeth. He crawled onto the bed where Y/N was watching him with a smile.
When he hovered over her, she snatched the condom from his teeth and pulled him down into a kiss, unbuttoning his shirt quickly. He let her pull the shirt off of him and thought it was unfair that she was still in her tiny little tank top.
He hummed and reached for her tank top, pulling it up and off as he was pulling away from her lips. Spencer groaned at the sight of her chest and shut his eyes. “You’re so sexy, baby.” He told her.
She bit her lip and tried to hide a smile. He kissed her again before paying attention to her panties. He pressed his fingers against the fabric making Y/N’s breath hitch. “Gotta take these off.” Spencer spoke.
She lifted her hips off of the bed and he pulled them off of her. “Jesus fu- oh my God, you’re so wet.” Spencer mumbled, damn near staring at her core.
He looked up at her. “Are you sure you want to do this? It’s okay if you don’t.” He nodded, his eyes softened.
Y/N smiled and pressed her hand against his cheek. “I’m sure. I want you more than anything.” He but his lip and took the condom back from her, opening it and sliding it on his length.
Spencer smiled and pressed his tip against her entrance, eliciting a gasp from her lips. He pressed his lips against hers as he pushed in slowly. She moaned into his mouth and squeezed his biceps.
This moment felt different. It felt softer, more passionate. Less like lust and more like love.
Spencer groaned into the kiss and pulled away slowly, staring at her closed eyes hoping they would open soon so he could look at her.
“Open your eyes, baby.” He told her quietly. “Let me see those pretty eyes.”
Y/N opened her eyes and met his as he chest heaved. He began to move slowly, sinking all the way into her before pulling out but not all the way.
He loved the way her mouth dropped open and her eyebrows creased. Sweet, sweet sound came from her.
“Fuck— Spencer!” She said closing her eyes again.
He grabbed her jaw. “Uh uh. Eyes open, pretty girl.”
Y/N opened her eyes right back up and bit her lip. “Faster. Please.” She mumbled.
Spencer snapped his hips a little faster. He let a hand come down between them and start rubbing her clit.
“Fuckin- tryin’ to kill me?” She asked breathlessly, through a smile.
Spencer chuckled and rubbed faster. “This feel good, baby?” He asked. She started nodding almost immediately letting out an incoherent word.
“Fuck, Spence— M’close.” She spoke, feeling the tightening in her lower stomach.
“Fuck baby— feel so good. So tight.” He spoke as she uncontrollably clench around him. “Y/N/N, I’m so close baby.”
Y/N let out breathy moans and dug her nails into his back. “I’m gonna come.”
“Come for me, baby.” He whispered in her ear.
Y/N squeezed around him again before she released. She looked up at him as he kept thrusting into her. “You make me feel so good, baby—“ Spencer nodded as he filled the condom.
Y/N panted and smiled up at him as he squeezed his eyes shut, hips stuttering.
After a moment of silence, Spencer looked down at her with his chest heaving. He pulled out of her slowly and tapped her hip. “Come on.”
Y/N giggled. “Spencer, I don’t think I can fuckin’ stand.”
He smiled at her and pulled her up. He dragged her towards his bathroom and let go of her body when he went to turn on the shower.
Once he was done checking the temperature, he pulled her back to him and stepped inside the shower.
They showered, not speaking but just staying in each other’s presence. Y/N thought it was awkward at first but she settled in when Spencer helped her wash her body.
Hours later, Spencer had given Y/N a tshirt, a pair of his boxers and socks to put on since her clothes were dirty now.
She sat up in his bed, watching him read. Yes, they had talked to each other about the events of the hours before but it was weird.
After a moment, she heard Spencer sigh and he put his book down on his bedside table.
He turned to Y/N and held out his hand, scooting down to lay on his side. She smiled and grabbed his hand, using it to pull herself down to let next to him, cuddling into his side.
“I’m sorry, Y/N.” He spoke suddenly.
She furrowed her eyebrows and looked up at him. “F-for what?” She asked.
“I… I didn’t want you to feel… I don’t know, rushed?” He sighed. His voice was quiet.
Y/N shook her head. “No, no I didn’t feel rushed.” She told him. “Spencer, do you not understand that I really really like you?” She asked, smiling.
Spencer felt his heart speed up. Y/N had really really liked him. “I really like you, Y/N.” He nodded. “I want to take you out.”
“On a date?” She asked, her grin widening.
“On a date.” He nodded. “We can go out, we can eat, go see a movie and then I can kiss you. And then I can call you when you’re in bed later that night and tell you what a great time I had.”
Y/N giggled and his her face in his chest. “Okay. Take me out then, Spence. I would love that,”
The rest of that night was spent cuddling and talking and watching stupid reality shows until Y/N fell asleep.
.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.••.•.
Thank you so much to @f-me-reid for this amazing request!!! I really enjoyed writing this one!
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dyaz-stories · 6 days
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don't get cut on my edges || gojo satoru x reader
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synopsis: Gojo is easily bored, you're the latest enigma that's caught his interest. He sets off in trying to figure you out. Lucky for him, you're coming on the week-end trip Shoko's planned for the week-end.
“Was I off script?”
You look up at him.
“You’re always off script.”
word count: 5.4k
genre: college!AU, fluff, slice of life
cw: unresolved sexual and romantic tension, reader has anxiety and is socially awkward, she/her is used for the reader, a little suggestive, overall very sweet and fluffy
a/n: this was fun to write! any feedback is appreciated, and i hope you enjoy my writing here :)
soundtrack
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Gojo knows that people talk, knows that they talk shit, knows that there isn’t a soul on campus that doesn’t have an opinion on him. He can tell that eyes follow him around when he walks into a room, that his presence is enough to shift the atmosphere at a gathering, that some people roll their eyes at him while others try their best to catch his attention. It’s a lot to take in, for just one person.
Fortunately, he’s proved to be incredibly gifted in the art of not giving a fuck.
Then again, he’s incredibly gifted in most areas of life. Truth be told, he thinks people aren’t giving him enough credit for that. Sure, they tend to know that he’s a physics major, but that’s just tangential to what they know about the rest of him. He’s not just kinda good at physics, not some dude that goes to college mostly for the parties and then get a meaningless job at daddy’s company, no, he’s the fucking best, and he works fucking hard to be able to claim that title.
But that doesn’t really fit in with the rest of him, and at the end of the day, who cares? He certainly doesn’t.
With all that, it’s not statistically unlikely for him to catch people talking about him.
Well, he’d have to conduct a detailed study to calculate the exact odds, but with how much alcohol is in his blood at this very moment, it makes sense to him that it would happen.
Still, for people to be talking about him at a party he is at, in front of an open window, you’d think they would have some sense of shame. Not that he has any room to talk, because shame is not part of his vocabulary, but like. Come on.
“Gojo really can’t take not being in the spotlight for more than ten seconds, huh?”
That voice, he’s quick to identify, even if he can’t see her face from where’s he’s standing under the porch, belongs to Mei Mei. Aw. Bummer. They’d spent quite a lot of time around each other, have friends in common, slept— Wait, have they slept together? He can’t say for sure anymore. It seems to have slipped from his mind. Oops. Maybe that’s why he’s getting that treatment. Maybe he deserves it.
There’s a scoff, and really, the acoustic of this place are impressive. It feels like he’s straight in the room with those people.
“What else do you expect from someone who’s always had everything served to him on a silver platter?”
And that would be Noritoshi Kamo. Man. That was one of the few kids in the families his parents insisted on frequenting. They used to be sat next to each other at the kiddie table while the adults talked about the important stuff. They never had much in common — not then, not now. And, after all, maybe Noritoshi has a point, after all. His mother wasn’t a mistress, wasn’t turned into an outcast, and he’s never had to pretend he didn’t hear the loud whispers that tarnished her name. Yeah. Sounds like these two aren’t saying anything new after all. Not that he’s gonna change, y’know, but he already knows who he is, and he is all that.
“That seems like a very mean thing to say about a friend,” a quiet voice comments.
The world freezes.
A silhouette appears to go along with the voice, then a blurry face, then the picture becomes clearer. A figure sitting next to Shoko, giving him sweet, polite smiles when he approaches. Not chatty, kinda shy, pretty cute. Would get quiet when he was near, though, so he hadn’t paid a ton of attention. He’s used to giving it to people who asked for it, who wanted it.
You’d never asked.
But you’re… not wrong. He’s not sure why he hadn’t picked up on it himself. It is a mean thing to say.
“Don’t get me wrong,” Mei Mei protests, “I love Gojo, but you know I’m right about this.”
“Yeah, and I’ve known him my whole life,” Kamo adds. “It’s just a fact, we’re not talking shit.”
There’s a silence. Gojo’s invested now.
“I don’t know him that well,” you say. “Like I said. It’s just a mean thing to say about someone you hang out with every day.”
“Come on, don’t act like—”
“I think I’m going to go, actually,” you say. “This feels super shitty.”
“What the fuck was that?” Mei Mei laughs, just a second later — presumably after you’ve left the room.
“She wants to fuck him, I guess,” Kamo says.
Well, you’re making one hell of a headway then, because he’d do you so hard after that.
When he walks back in, you’re chatting with Shoko. You give him your usual, close-lipped smile, don’t quite make eye-contact. If you’re trying to get in his pants, you have a very original way of getting it done.
“Who was your friend again?” he asks Shoko, later that night. She answers without looking up from her phone.
“She doesn’t talk much when there are new people around,” she warns him. “Leave her alone.”
“When have I ever bothered anyone—”
She reaches to smack the back of his head, misses and gets the nape of his neck — that’s the downside about being so tall, there’s just a lot of him to hit.
“Don’t make her uncomfortable. That’s all I’m asking.”
He wasn’t planning on that. He’s just— curious. Intrigued.
It’s unlikely to last, though. He’s been known to get bored easily.
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You’re already in the car when he gets in. Well, okay, when he gets shoved inside by Todo, despite his protests that his legs are too long for the backseat. You’ve squeezed yourself in the middle seat, with Shoko on one side, and him on the other now. There’s a bag of snacks in your lap, yet you still try to shift yourself to give him a little more room. It doesn’t help at all, but in your defense, the only thing that could help would be to buy a new car.
“Is everyone ready?” Suguru asks as he adjusts the rearview mirror.
“Sure,” Shoko says.
“Let’s go!” Todo shouts.
“No,” Gojo whines.
“Yeah,” you say, completely drowned out under the rest.
“Good,” Suguru hums as he starts the engine.
Gojo pouts, but he doesn’t insist. Well, he doesn’t make any more of a scene than he already has. Truth be told, he could have taken Todo — dude might be all brute force, but Gojo has brains and brawns, thank you very much.
But he’s curious, still, and he hasn’t been given enough information to quite satiate his curiosity. Everything he’s gathered about you says that you mind your business and keep to your corner.
So why did you say that to Mei Mei and Kamo? It makes no sense, but Gojo’s never met an equation he couldn’t solve.
That’s an overstatement. Obviously there are equations he can’t solve. Yet. He’s sure he’d figure it out eventually. Like he’ll figure you out. See? That metaphor does make sense.
Suguru’s music is playing in the car. The sun is still low in the sky, the day is quickly getting warmer, and the phone says that they’ll be at the beach in two hours.
Satoru closes his eyes. Fun fact about him? He can fall asleep anywhere he wants to.
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He wakes up with his face smooshed against the window, a hand tapping his shoulder carefully.
“We’re here,” you say, giving him a smile and then shuffling to leave the car from the other side.
Todo’s already running towards the beach, while Suguru and Shoko are getting the bags out of the trunk. Somehow, Shoko manages to sling a bag over his shoulder, but he takes off before she can stuff the cool box containing all the drinks in his arms.
He then lies to Todo to get him back to the car, so that he can carry the damn thing. Shoko better thank him later for that.
He catches up with you, and he sees your eyes widen a little when he approaches, as you visibly search for something to say. He can’t resist the temptation to shoot you a grin. There’s a light breeze in the air, but he won’t be fooled that easily — with his skin, he’s going to need an insane amount of sunscreen, if he wants to survive the day. Which makes him think, actually—
“Wanna help me apply sunscreen?” he asks.
“Huh?” you say.
He leans towards you, looks into your eyes from over his sunglasses. You appear to be fully frozen in place, only swallowing once as he gets closer. His grin gets wider as he takes in all of you, and he’s once more fascinated by the idea that you had been able to say something to Mei Mei and Kamo but you can barely face him.
His gaze drops to your parted lips.
Then the bottle of sunscreen smashes against his cheek with impressive precision.
“Todo can help you put that on!” Shoko offers as Suguru starts setting up a parasol. “Right, Todo?”
“Of course I will, my brother,” Todo say as he appears, but by then, Satoru has already started running for his life.
“Just kick him in the balls if he pulls something like that again,” Shoko says.
“Oh, no, it’s fine,” you reply, shaking your head in mild horror. “I just— I don’t— know— how to react sometimes. But he doesn’t bother me.”
That statement has her raising an eyebrow at you, filled with doubt, but she doesn’t insist.
“Play nice,” she does warn Satoru once more, later on. “Don’t push it too much.”
“Aw, Shoko, are you saying you wouldn’t approve of me?”
“Do whatever you want to,” she replies, rolling her eyes, “but give her more space. She’s not used to you being… you.”
Satoru rests his chin on his knee. He’s taking refuge under the parasol for now, and you’re already in the waves with Todo and Suguru. You seem comfortable with Todo, laughing at something he said, less so with Suguru. It all looks like a lot of work, all to satiate his curiosity. He’s all about committing to the bit but— he doesn’t know about that one.
This, too, all this thinking and questioning, is a lot of work, though, so he ends up shrugging it off.
“Are we getting in or what?”
“Absolutely not. No— Gojo— Don’t you fucking dare— Gojo!”
Shoko’s full-on shrieking by the time he throws her in the water. You burst out laughing. She comes out screaming for revenge, and Gojo starts scampering around to try and avoid her.
The sun is high in the sky, there’s a light breeze.
The time is good.
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“Satoru!” Suguru calls when the watch on his wrist starts beeping, “it’s been two hours!”
It takes a second for the information to reach his brain, but the second he understands it, Gojo’s sprinting back towards the parasol at full speed. You look up, surprised, from the towel on which you’re lying with a book. Shoko doesn’t even bother with lifting an eyelid to see what’s going on.
“You okay?” you ask.
Ah, so she does speak.
“Yeah,” Gojo says, ruffling through a bag. “Just need to reapply some sunscreen. I’m not trying to look like a lobster.”
“Oh,” you say, “so, did you want me to help you with that?”
His fingers finally close around the bottle, and he stills to look at you. Shit. He’s curious again. Shoko’s words are swirling around in his mind, though, and he has no interest in forcing your hand.
“You didn’t look like you wanted to do that,” he says with uncharacteristic caution.
You roll your lips together, glance away from him, and your hand curls into a fist in the sand.
“No, it’s just— Um, I’m sorry about earlier. You— caught me off guard, I guess. I couldn’t figure out what to answer.”
“I usually just go with whatever appears through my head first,” he shrugs as he comes to crouch in front of you — you in the sun, him in the shade.
You laugh softly, but you avert your eyes, focusing on the sand as you trace patterns in it.
“Yeah, I think that’s the preferred method, but it— doesn’t— really work for me. So I have— I have a script, kind of, for interactions.”
“And I was off script?”
You glance back up at him.
“You’re always off script.”
For a moment, he just looks into your eyes, and you look back without any of that earlier nervousness. Then you shrink back into yourself, and the smile that so rarely leaves your lips reappears, like a shield that comes back up.
“Sorry. I know— I know how silly this sounds. I also wish I didn’t feel the need to do that, I just, um—”
“All good,” he replies with a shrug. “Sure. Help me with that.”
He throws you the bottle and you miss it, and he can feel you eyerolling at his back without needing to turn around, but when he shoots you a grin from over his shoulder, he can see how your breath catches in your throat.
Softly, your hand goes over his back, your touch gentle and cautious. It feels quite nice, actually, especially when your nails brush over his skin.
“It’s not too cold?” you ask.
“All good,” he repeats.
Shit. He’s invested again.
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“Okay, we have the tickets, we have the water bottles, we have the hats, we have flat shoes, we have Gojo, we have the car keys—”
“I’m sorry, why was I just in the middle of a list of belongings?”
“We have cellphones and portable batteries… I think we’re good,” Shoko concludes, fully ignoring him.
“You don’t think we’re just a touch overprepared?” Suguru asks.
“You can never overprepare, my brother,” Todo says, grabbing his shoulder firmly. “If you want to triumph in the face of adversity, you need to know everything about the enemy.”
Suguru opens his mouth, closes it again. He knows how to pick his battles.
Gojo doesn’t.
“We’re going to a festival, not trying to breech the Pentagon,” he deadpans, and then, from the corner of his eye, he tries to see if you’re laughing. He delights in how you lower your head and try to keep it discreet.
“You never know what—”
“If I have to hear a second more of this nonsense, I swear to God I’ll kill someone here,” Shoko announces cheerfully. “Let’s move.”
Finally, after a good fifteen minutes by the door of the Airbnb you’ve all spent the night in, you start moving.
The good news is that you don’t have to get in the car, in the smothering heat, to get on the overcrowded streets packed full with the cars of the other attendees. The bad news is that you have to walk there, in the smothering heat, near the streets packed full with the cars of the other attendees. Suguru’s in charge of the map, which everyone seems happy with. Gojo had offered to do it, too, and there’s not a shred of doubt that he’d be able to read it competently, but Shoko had insisted the risk of him taking everyone to the wrong place ‘just because it would be funny’ was too high.
She’d been right but like, that was still rude.
The march in the heat and the waiting in line, while painful and unpleasant, as Gojo makes sure everyone around him is well aware of, go pretty smooth. Everything is planned and accounted for. There’s a game plan once they make it into the festival, too, because of course there is, but that’s when things start going south. First, Todo tries to go rogue when he spots someone wearing Takada merch. She’s not performing here, but he’s heard rumors that there would be a stand for her, and he lurches towards the woman. He’d get lost in the crowd immediately if not for Gojo’s lightning fast reflexes.
Unfortunately, soon enough it’s Gojo’s turn to get distracted. What can he say, there’s the smell of sugar in the air, and he needs to know where it’s coming from. Suguru’s the one to get him back on track, as they all head towards the main stage. Because that’s what Shoko’s grand plan leads to: sweet, sweet, close-up spots to watch the Sorcerers, headliners for the festival and also unarguably greatest band of all times, with minimum wait before their show.
There are a couple other close calls, but the group manages to get close enough to the stage. There are people here already, but they’re here for other artists mostly, and they’ll no doubt move quite a bit before the start of the real show. From where they are, even you and Shoko will be able to— Wait a minute.
“Huh,” Gojo say. “Hey, Shoko, do you happen to see (y/n) around?”
“If you can’t see her from up there, why would you think I— Fuck.”
“A fallen soldier,” Todo sighs somberly. “Sometimes, you have to make sacrifices for—"
“We should go get her,” Shoko interrupts him. She’s biting her lower lip, staring at her phone. She looks quite worried, Gojo notices as he stares at her.
“Why isn’t it enough to just text her?” Gojo asks. It’s not ideal, and it won’t be easy to find the group in the middle of this sea of people, but it’s not impossible.
“I just— I don’t know if she’ll want to deal with all that” she gestures at the crowd “alone. I’m afraid she’ll say she doesn’t mind and then she won’t have a good time.”
Gojo tilts his head. It wouldn’t cross his mind to say something he doesn’t mean. It’s an incredibly weird thought, actually. But Shoko’s better than him at, well, people, and she might have a point. He also doesn’t want you to have a bad time, after all. With one last glance at the stage, he nods at her.
“I’ll go get her.”
“Are you sure?” Suguru asks. “I can go, if you want me to. It’s your band.”
As if it isn’t his, too. But Gojo shrugs. His attention span is fleeting, and he’s got his sights on something else right now.
“Nah, don’t worry. I’ll make it back.”
“Thanks,” Shoko says sincerely.
He waves vaguely at her before making his way back through the crowd, earning his fair share of nasty glances. He still doesn’t care.
A few minutes later, he receives a text from Shoko with a screengrab where you say you’re getting something to eat. Sure enough, he has no trouble finding you waiting in line. You’re typing on your phone, not paying attention to your surroundings, and he’s grinning already. He lets himself half fall on you, arm wrapping around your body as he drops his chin onto your shoulder. You jump, glancing back bewildered, but you don’t stay tense long once you see it’s him.
Which makes him feel things, actually, but he’ll unpack that later.
“What are you doing here?” you ask, brow furrowing. “I thought you guys would be in front of the stage by now.”
“I came to rescue the princess, obviously,” he says, and you laugh. You laugh a lot when he talks, instead of rolling your eyes like people usually do.
Maybe you’re a bit too good of an audience.
“I don’t need rescuing, Gojo,” you answer, and it’s interesting how calm your voice is. “It’s packed too tight for me in here. I told Shoko but…” You shrug. “It’s not always easy to understand how it is. For me.”
“Yeah,” he says. “I don’t get it at all.”
Your shoulder’s pretty comfortable, though. And you haven’t tried to get him off of you yet.
“Do you want to order something, too?” you ask, pointing at the food stand. They sell waffles, and just the smell has his mouth watering. “Strawberries and whipped cream, right?”
Gojo pauses.
“How do you know that?”
“You’ve mentioned it. A few times, actually.”
He’s sure he has, but—
“You were listening to that?”
You blink at him. He realizes how close your face is, with his head on your shoulder.
“Of course I was. You were talking.”
“Shoko didn’t tell you? It’s like, rule number one of being around me, don’t listen to the stuff I say. There’s a lot of dumb shit in there.”
You tilt your head, looking kind of confused.
“I still want to hear what you’re saying.”
Something inside him feels warm all of a sudden. Very warm.
“Yeah,” he says, but his throat is tight. “Strawberries and whipped cream.”
When you step forward to they can take your order, he begrudgingly gets off your shoulder, which allows him to swipe his card before you can get to it.
“I had that,” you protest while he bites into the insane amount of whipped cream in his waffle — he asked for more until the guy behind the counter looked like he was going to murder him.
“I had it first,” he says, and then he sticks his tongue out at you. He anticipates your laugh this time, finds himself waiting on it. When it comes, it sounds just like he wanted it to.
For a while, the two of you sit on a fence. You hand him a water bottle, say that he needs to stay hydrated. With no one else around, you don’t seem to have such a hard time speaking. You’re so quiet when everyone’s there and, well, him and Todo take up a lot of space, when it comes to conversation. Neither Suguru nor Shoko struggle with making their voices heard either, and in the middle of all that, you tend to stay silent. Apparently, that doesn’t stop you from listening.
“Shouldn’t you be going back?” you ask, after a while.
Gojo tilts his head as he thinks about it.
“Nah, I’m good. Let’s find some place where you can enjoy the show.”
“You don’t have to—”
A grin, and then he’s jumping from the fence to come stand in front of you. Even like that, he doesn’t have to look up to meet your eyes.
“And how d’you plan on stopping me?”
Your eyes go wide. He can almost hear your heart racing, and he thinks he’s starting to get a little too high on that feeling. It’s just so easy, so fun, so delicious.
“Okay,” you squeak, averting your eyes and jumping down after him, clearly trying to hide your reaction. “Okay, I’m coming.”
When you start walking by his side, grabbing your hand is just too easy not to do it.
“Wouldn’t want you to run away again,” is what he says as he intertwines his fingers with yours. “Now you’re stuck with me.”
You still refuse to look at him, but there is no actual discomfort in your reaction, just what he thinks is uncertainty about how you’re supposed to behave now.
“Have I gone off script again?” he practically purrs.
You glance up, a flash of amusement on your face. Lots of fondness, too, and this time he’s the one who gets caught up in it.
“You haven’t been on script once today.”
“Good,” he says, managing to pass off the emotion that just choked him for a second there as impatience. “Someone’s got to keep you on your toes.”
“I’m always on my toes,” you mumble behind him, but you can’t explain to him what anxiety feels like, so you just let him drag you away. His fingers are long, his hand engulfs yours easily. You like the feeling of it more than you should.
Your eyes are on Gojo’s broad back as he pulls you through the crowd, which parts effortlessly for him. You’re enjoying this.
You don’t think it’s going to last.
Gojo doesn’t think about that though, just like he rarely thinks about tomorrows. What he’s thinking about, as he keeps far, far away from the stage, is how to find a place with enough air around for the two of you. It’s easy for him to get a good look at the stage, and he earns his fair share of pissed off glares — “Seriously, it should be illegal to come to an open-air stage when you’re that tall” — but it takes more work to get the perfect space for you. Finally, his eagle eyes figure out some place that’s just perfect, and he beelines for it with you in tow.
“There,” he says, pulling you in front of him and putting his head on top of yours, just to check that the line of sight is good enough.
Ha. He nailed it.
“Thanks,” you say. There’s surprise in your tone.
“Is this a good spot for you?” he checks, but really, he just wants to hear you praise him?
“It is, but— I thought you said you didn’t get it? My—” You gesture vaguely. “—struggle. With all that stuff.”
Oh right. You actually listen to what he says. He needs to keep that in mind for the future.
“Does it matter?” he asks with a shrug.
You stare. You open your mouth to speak, but no words come out, and then the crowd starts absolutely howling and you spin around to see the Sorcerersget on the stage. Whatever moment there was there, is forgotten right away. He sees you fish in your bag for your phone, then raise it over your head and tiptoe around, trying to get a good photo.
It’s cute, it’s adorable even, but it’s not very efficient.
“Do you want some help here?” he asks, leaning close to your ear so you can hear him over all the noise.
Your body shivers into him, and he files that away for later.
“Um, yeah,” you shout over the noise. “Here, could you—”
But he pays no attention to the way you offer him your cellphone, and instead he’s bending down, and ignoring your surprised protest as he pushes his head between your legs.
He bench presses a hell of a lot more than he looks like he does, for the record.
With a grunt, he manages to get you up on his shoulders, and some people behind him complain loudly, but whatever, they can wait for you to get the perfect picture. You struggle to stabilize yourself for a dangerous second, and then you stop moving around for a second. Your thighs are supple and warm under his hands and around his head.
One more thing to remember.
“I’m good, I’m good, get me down,” you say quickly, just as he’s storing the thought away.
You seem relieved when your feet get back on the ground, and Satoru lets his hands linger on your waist.
“Was it a nice pic?” he asks. He knows he’s all red in the face, but he’s grinning so wide it almost hurts, actually.
“Perfect,” you squeak. “Thank you. Again.”
Aw. He’s going to get used to that word real quick.
A familiar guitar riff comes from the stage, and you turn away from him once more, but his hands are still on your waist. He uses that to pull you against him and this time, you don’t hesitate to let yourself lean back against him as the two of you move in rhythm with the music.
The concert is a blur after that. There’s a lot of singing, a lot of screaming, basically no time to catch a breath, because the Sorcerers are fucking beasts that don’t let up, not even for a second. At some point, you tell him something, but he can’t really hear, so you crane your neck back and he lowers his head. Your lips brush against his neck, an accident really, but it sends such a jolt of electricity through him, he thinks he’ll go into full overdrive.
The only thing that stops him from chasing after your lips immediately after that is Shoko’s voice, going around in his mind. ‘Don’t push it.’ What the fuck was that supposed to mean?
You move away, and he still has no clue what you were saying. If after that, his hands hold your hips a little tighter, if he pulls you a little closer, he can’t be blamed. If, during one of the more sulfurous song of the show, as you’re swaying against him, humming along to the song, his lips find your neck, he doesn’t want to hear about it.
When he presses a kiss right by your jaw, you turn to look at him. You’re pretty. He’s always thought you were pretty.
Fuck Shoko, he thinks, and he’s ready to put his mouth on yours, to slide his tongue between your parted lips that have looked so inviting this entire week-end, when the riff of the band’s most popular song starts playing, and he loses you attention once more.
Cock-blocked by his favorite band. Fuck his life.
When the song ends, there’s movement in the crowd as the band gets off the stage and people start chanting for an encore. In Shoko’s fool proof, perfect plan, this is when you’re supposed to start leaving. Gojo doesn’t want to — how is he supposed to do anything about how much he wants his mouth on you once you’re back with the other — but this time you grab his hand and pull him away from the stage and he has even less of a clue of what he’s supposed to do about that.
You get to the meeting point before Shoko, Todo and Suguru, which makes sense, considering you were much further from the stage than them. It’s a specific pole that Shoko had pointed to as you were first getting in, and the urge to push you against it and to taste your lips is strong. Gojo isn’t typically one to ignore that kind of feeling. He just goes for it, doesn’t let his brain get in the way too much. He’s not sure what it is with you and your doe eyes and your sweet smile that makes him act different.
Whatever it is, it makes him ask “Did you have a good time?” instead of kissing you senseless behind the pole while watching to make sure Shoko doesn’t catch him in the act.
“It was amazing,” you say. “I don’t think— I don’t think I’d have gotten that close without you.”
“Did I force your hand?” he asks, frowning.
“No, no, that was great, actually.” And there it comes, his favorite words, and then he’ll kiss you. “Thank—”
“There you guys are!”
You have got to be kidding him. The Gods of timing are so set against him, he must have done something to piss them off badly in another life.
“Okay, we should start heading towards the exit,” Shoko announces.
“Nah, we ‘re staying until the end,” Gojo says, burying his hands, balled into fists, in his pockets. He’s being needlessly belligerent, but whatever, she deserves it, whether she knows it or not.
“Don’t be a dick,” she glares.
He smiles at her. And he doesn’t budge.
“We’ll run,” you say, stepping in. “I’m sure we can still beat the crowd if we run.”
She narrows her eyes at you, then at Gojo.
“You’re a bad influence, you know that?”
So many delicious thoughts coming to him, and he can’t do anything about it. Damn it all.
Of course, it ends with the five of you sprinting on the lawn and all the way back to the house. Of course, he doesn’t catch five seconds with you after that. Of course, your face is on his mind the whole night.
Of course, because it’s just his luck, isn’t it, in the morning, Shoko tells him you had to catch a flight early in the morning.
“I told you, don’t you remember? She’s going back to her family for the summer.”
Of course, he doesn’t.
Ah, whatever. It bothers him for a minute, but then the day continues unfolding, and the sun’s warm, it’s the peak of summer, and he only really knew you for a couple of days. He’ll see how he feels about it when college starts up again in the fall. He’s not known for sticking with things, anyway. He’ll probably forget; you probably won’t capture him again like you did; it was probably a fluke.
That, or these will become famous last words.
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sequel
thank you so much for reading! i had a ton of fun writing gojo's pov and i hope you enjoyed it too, even if i'm still finding his voice :) please reblog or comment if you've enjoyed this, i'd love to hear from you! getting readers' feedback on my writing is what keeps me motivated to write so if you'd like to read more from me, that's the way to do it!
tagging the people who expressed interest in this: @elidebrey @xstom @chosospookiebear @xmysticredx
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rizsu · 1 year
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graduated delusional boys shoyo, kuroo, sunarin.
-> tokrev & jjk version
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it's a simple night out with the hinata family. after another successful karasuno match, shoyo's mother suggested a restaurant dinner and well some shopping.
busy on his feet, shoyo walk-runs after his sister. she's certainly a little too fast on her feet—especially if you don't hold her hand or use a leash like their mom usually does. finally reaching her, he lifts her onto his hip before ending the mini race with a little scolding.
“natsu! don't speed off like that!”
“but the candies!!”
shaking his head, shoyo shuffles his way through the sea of people until he makes it back to his mother's position.
“sho', natsu, come here!” motioning to her kids, their mother takes hold of the five year old before pushing shoyo to walk in front of her, “stay in my vision, sho'. you're still young!”
well, shoyo would've done as she said without complaints but the last sentence made him turn his head back one hundred and eighty degrees. immediately warping his face into one that expresses confusion, shoyo raises a counterargument.
“but i'm already a third year! with a girlfriend too y'know.”
nodding her head to act as if she's paying attention to his words, shoyo's mother argues back, “yes, yes, but you still live with me so—wait.”
from the tone of her voice in the last word, shoyo tries to speed up his pace but a mother's hand is always faster.
“what do you mean by girlfriend, young man.”
“whoops..?”
turning around on his heel, he raises a hand behind his neck trying to think of a way to properly explain. it doesn't take long before he starts his own sign language while giving his mother the detailed lore of your relationship—which didn't last for long because natsu had other plans.
“sho's not a loser!” she juts in her opinion, looking at her older brother with an open mouth covered by her hand.
“NAT-SU,” feeling shocked, betrayed and offended, shoyo goes to press his palm over her hand to seal her mouth shut. as the color red diffuses to all of his ear, he feigns a limp as he takes baby steps away from his family.
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kuroo is not kuroo if he doesn't bother kenma after twelve a.m during the weekend sleepover. if there's a sleeping kenma, there's a wide awake kuroo waiting for the right moment to strike.
“psst, kenma, wake up.”
“please shut up.”
“KENMA!”
“NO.”
covering both ears with his pillow, kenma turns around to block off kuroo and whatever he's got going on at 1:43 AM according to his watch. but oh no, don't get it twisted. kuroo is not one to forfeit that easily—persistent may as well be his middle name!
“i was going to show you my girl but i guess not!” changing his tone to a teasing one, kuroo backs off kenma's bed and goes to his futon.
as if it was an auto-response, kenma sits up straight, sharply turning his neck to kuroo, “pause.”
and with that, kuroo adds one point to himself on his imaginary scoreboard. snickering to himself, he turns his back to kenma, waving him off by repeating what he previously said, “you told me shut up.”
“wait i'm sorry,” kenma says. slouching off his bed, he uses his right foot to nudge at kuroo's “sleeping” figure. it takes about five nudges before he speaks again, “you know i love knowing people's business. please, kuroo.”
adding another point to himself on the scoreboard, kuroo turns on his back with a grin and a phone to his face. raising the phone to kenma's height, kuroo shows him a picture of a girl and kenma thinks kuroo's gone delusional. maybe he's just tired.
“whose daughter did you find on pinterest?”
“okay fuck you.”
snatching his phone back, kuroo actually feels quite offended. is kenma implying he's not attractive enough to pull a pretty girl!?
“I WAS NOT FINISHED LOOKING.”
“privileges REVOKED.”
shoving a middle finger in the air, kuroo pulls his blanket over his head to quietly sob in peace (this is an exaggeration).
kenma, tired of kuroo's antics, steals kuroo's phone to look at your picture and find proper evidence that you guys are indeed together.
“don't go through our chats by the way.”
“ew.”
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three adults, three cushions and one bottle. in osamu's living room sits him, his brother and rintaro. how'd they get here? boredom. extreme boredom. when they were no longer entertained by the alcohol, atsumu brought up the idea of truth-or-dare with using a bottle.
spinning the bottle, osamu watches it land on rintaro and immediately asked him a question he's been dying to know, “rin, is it true you're seeing someone?”
throwing his head back, rintaro groans. he knew it'd come sooner or later but he still wants to be mysterious.
“nosy much?” and to that, both twins responded, “SAYS YOU!?”
dragging his palm over his face, rintaro laughs before confirming osamu's question. he's twenty-six with nothing to lose and he thinks he's sexy—so obviously he'd not be single..!
osamu's jaw drops. although he was the one who asked, he's still shocked. to his defense, rintaro's always seemed like the type to stay in the talking zone.
“oh, that poor woman. save her now before it's too late.” using a napkin, atsumu wipes his crocodile tears only to be kicked by no one other than suna rintaro. cackling at rintaro's reaction, atsumu defends himself, “'m just messing with ya!”
rintaro rolls his eyes. turning around to grab his phone, he proudly shows off his lockscreen that's a picture of you from your anniversary date, “isn't she pretty?” with a small smile on his face, he feels his pride emotion being activated.
“i dunno...i've seen better,” atsumu states his (unwanted) opinion. tapping a finger on his chin, he squints at the phone.
and as for rintaro? his heart dropped. looking directly at atsumu this time, he questions him, “such as..?”
“like myself duh.”
one.
two.
three.
and cue the fight scene with rintaro and atsumu while osamu tries to catch his breath from laughing.
“I AM SICK OF YOU.” stifling atsumu with his cushion, rintaro makes sure to smother his face with the fabric. he, atsumu, must feel the pain.
“hey—HEY. GO EASY ON THE HAIR.”
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chaethewriter · 1 year
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You're dead to me [9]
dad!Jake Sully x human!daughter!reader
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In which Jake Sully leaves his life on earth to settle down with the Omatikaya people as Toruk Makto. Having a family that consists of four kids with Neytiri, everything seems to work out just fine, but what if the past comes back for him? And his babygirl is right there in front of him?
warning: english isn't my first language, angst, fluff, gore, idk how hospital stuff works.
Word count: 3,4k
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Jake Sully's eyes shot open, immediately rising his upper body from the mossy ground. He gasped as he felt a pain pierce through his body. His body was covered in cuts and wounds, blood dripping from his head. His memory was restoring as his brain was processing what he saw: you on the ground dying. He remembered your rolled-back eyes as blood dripped from your mouth and nose. Truly a traumatic sight. He frantically looked around the warzone, in search for you. You were in his arms what felt like mere seconds ago. What happened? Where were you? Dead Na'vi lay on the mossy ground, some were headless while others had their limbs broken, staring at the sky with lifeless eyes. He got up from the ground, ignoring the pain shooting through his spine as he frantically looked for you. He wanted to scream, cry your name. Yet he couldn't, it felt like his vocal cords were ripped out of his throat, no sound able to leave his lips. Running past the dead bodies and not seeing your face, he didn't know what to feel: sad because he couldn't find you or happy that you weren't dead. The world around him turned black, the sky pitch black as everyone around him disappeared. "Daddy?" He collapsed on his knees as he saw you in front of him, small little girl with a plushie in your hands. He tried to get up, but he couldn't move one bit, his legs paralyzed and he felt hopeless once again as his physical body didn't respond: just like his human body. From behind you, Jake could see someone emerge from the shadows. The black figure had a knife pressed to your throat, "daddy help!! Daddy!!" He tried his best to raise his legs, move his fingers, anything, but nothing worked. The tears rolled down his face as the knife dug into your skin, eventually slicing through your throat, through your skin. You fell to your knees, the plushie he brought you falling to the floor. "Daddy.." you mumbled as the blood left your throat, spurting out as you fell to the ground. Jake Sully looked at the scene in front of him in horror. He wanted to look away, but something was stopping him from doing so. As if someone was holding his head into place and keeping his eyes from shutting. If one could hear his scream, it was one out of a horror movie. He felt himself shaking frantically and then everything once again faded to black.
You felt your body being shaken and a faint voice calling out your name. You tried to focus on your surroundings and regaining your consciousness. Your arms were flat on the ground, which made your bare hands touch the ground. Dirt, dry to the touch. You could feel the wind blowing, you were outside. That's when you remembered. You were in a warzone, a battlefield. "Sissy please!!" You tried to move your fingertips as you heard a familiar voice. Neteyam. His arms were wrapped around you as he carried you bridal style. Your head twitched toward his warmth as you slowly opened his eyes. You felt dizzy, everything looked blurry to you. But you could see blue figure holding you, the blue figure that is Neteyam. He was all scratched up himself, but no worse than you. The main reason being that you saved him with your push, the scratches from his fall rather than from the explosion. He ran through the warzone, all the way to the back which the enemies didn't reach yet. "My people, take the supplies and fall back to high camp!!" His voice boomed as he ran to alert his people. "Seze!!" He proceeded to screech as he called for his Ikran. He named his Ikran after his mother's late Ikran. She told him his Ikran resembled it as if it was meant to happen. Like mother like son. Seze landed on the ground, its wings flapping through the air as it screeched for Neteyam. He quickly made tsaheylu, the bond, as he jumped on his Ikran with ease with you in his arms. Your body was all bloody with blood dripping down from one of your eyes, seeping into your mask. It made you slightly choke on your breath. "Neteyam..?" You saw red and blurry all at the same time. "Yes sissy it's me, don't worry you'll be okay. I got you." You saw his lips moving as he spoke, but you could barely make out what he said, your ears ringing violently making your headache. When Neteyam's Ikran took off into the air, the impact made your head spin. The three of you soared through the sky and back to high camp. Neteyam apologized with tears in his eyes whenever you complained in babbles or whined in pain, the aggressiveness of his flying making this entire ride uncomfortable and painful. Yet he couldn't take his sweet time. He had to get you help as quick as possible.
"Lo'ak! My son!" Neytiri, who was soaring into the sky this entire time to take the enemies down, watched as her son's Ikran flew at the speed of light. She was mostly busy in the sky. With the enemies that suddenly came attacking with what the humans call missiles, she was mainly focused on killing. The missiles did great damage to the teams on the ground, so she could only hope there weren't many losses. Neither Neteyam nor Lo'ak called the enemies in, so when he flew past her, she tried calling after him when he neared her, but to no avail. She could see him holding onto a huge figure when he was close. He didn't hear her calling, which was surprising considering their good hearing. Was he ignoring his own mother? She couldn't fly after him and even if she did she wouldn't be able to catch up with him at that speed. She took note to lecture him how dangerous that was and how he was disobeying direct orders. He was supposed to be a spotter with Neteyam. She also wondered where her oldest son was, but for now there were more important things to do. With no other spotters as Lo'ak flew off, Neteyam was nowhere to be found. And where was her mate? Her Jake? Worrying wasn't her main priority at the moment. She was a trained warrior, daughter of the Tsahik. She had her people to take care of, so the only thing she could do right is watch over her people while praying to the great mother her family was alright. "My people, take the supplies and fall back to high camp!!" She caught the screams of her oldest son as she watched him carry you in his arms, all bruised up and bleeding. What in the hell happened?
"GRANDMOTHER!!" Neteyam was the first of the war party to arrive back in high camp. Everyone was cheering at the return of the future Olo'eyktan, but instead of them coming face to face with their mighty warrior, instead they saw a broken young boy in front of them as he held onto your limb body. Mo'at emerged from the rowdy crowd with Kiri, her hands to her mouth as she saw the condition you were in. For a second her strong facade dropped, but then the serious expression returned to her face, "come, follow me." Neteyam wished his grandmother could walk faster as he followed her footsteps, incredibly impatient to know the current condition of his sister. The four of them entered Mo'at's tent and Neteyam immediately put his sister down on one of the makeshift beds. Kiri went to remove her clothing, not even taking her sweet time with the buttons and zippers: she full on cut the clothing off you with her hunter's knife and throwing the shredded pieces behind her. They had to work on you as fast as possible. "What in Eywa's name happened?!" Kiri asked once she finished removing your clothes, stepping away to let the Tsahik do her job. She rushed to the table with herbs and medicines, taking anything that would help reduce your pain. "It all happened so fast and then (Y/N) pushed us away from the explosion and then dad came and tried to protect her but then the explosion went off and then I found her." He rambled on and on, clearly in panic and not thinking straight at all. He wasn't even thinking about his father, who was shielding you from the explosion and probably got the most damage. He fell on his knees as his hands were buried in his braids, "this is my fault, oh eywa, I'm so sorry sissy, please be okay." Kiri's eyes almost fell out of her sockets, "dad is wounded??! Where is he?!?!" She was ready to walk up to Neteyam and shake the living soul out of him, but Mo'at stopped her with her arm. She gave her granddaughter a knowing look. Kiri's gaze softened as she looked at the condition Neteyam was in, tears rolling down his face as he hyperventilated. He was the closest to you, after all.
"OUT OF THE WAY!!" The moment Lo'ak landed in the cave, he jumped off the Ikran with his father on his back. "I NEED HELP! PLEASE HELP!" Jake Sully wasn't breathing, with no groans of pain or curses leaving his lips as he was bleeding everywhere in this condition, Lo'ak knew he had to prepare for the worst. Norm, still in his avatar and who was also at the raid, landed right next to him. He saw everything happen from a few miles away. From the moment you ran away from the explosions, to the moment Jake Sully stepped in, took the hit, and watched his body ascend into the air as he knocked right into one of the crashed helicopters. As one of the Na'vi healers wanted to go up to Lo'ak and help, Norm grabbed Lo'ak shoulder, "follow me! We need him at the lab and hooked on the machines!" Norm knew the spirituality of the Na'vi, wanting to heal their people in the most natural way there is, but no herb could save the condition Jake Sully was in. Maybe Mo'at could perform a ritual, but at the moment hooking him up to machines was maybe the best way for now.
You stirred as Mo'at performed a ritual on you, all kinds of emotions rushing through your body. It felt like your pain slowly disappeared, like an anesthesia that started having an effect. You still saw blurry and your ears rang, but you felt safe knowing the figure holding onto your hand, "Te-" you felt incredibly weak, not even able to say his name. A metallic taste entered your mouth and touched your tastebuds, making you whine. "I'm here sissy, you will be okay." Your mind started wandering back to the explosion. You should have been dead. You were in the middle of the explosion. How were you okay? You pushed your little brothers away to protect them, so who protected you? You tried your best to remember the event, everything was still a mess in your head, but you knew you felt a familiar warmth before you blacked out. Protective. Fatherly. Your eyes widened at the realization. "Where's daddy.." you were weak, but the words managed to escape your lips. Your frantically moved your arms as you wailed, "papa." Neteyam brought both of your hands to his cheeks, hoping his touch would somehow help you. Your sobs left your lips as you cried, the strong warrior facade disappearing as you were now a daughter crying for her dying father. He protected you from the explosion, he stood there as he tried to take most of the hit. After your behavior, he still decided to protect you. Again, you felt the guilt and pain eating you from the inside. You killed their father, her mate. You weren't stupid, you knew what an explosion could do. Kiri took a cloth as she herself felt her eyes tear up, rubbing the skin under your eyes to wipe your tears. "I'm so sorry." Was the one thing that left your lips as you continued wailing, your two siblings sharing your pain with Mo'at quietly finishing the ritual. He was in Eywa's hands now.
"Papa! Let's sit here!" You were carrying a basket in your hands that was almost the same size as you. The two of you were in the city, as you wanted to have a father-daughter date with your dad. You ran to a bench right in front of the mall, putting your basket down as you tried to climb and sit. Jake Sully wheeled your way, as he raised you by your waist to lift you onto the bench. "Thank you papa!!" You giggled and put the basket down next to you, "papa sit here too?" Jake chuckled as you stared expectantly at him. He positioned his wheelchair and raised his butt, quickly moving it to the bench. With your help by holding onto his waist, he managed to sit down. The wheelchair rolled a bit as he moved, but with his feet still on the chair, it managed not to get away. "Thank you babygirl." He pressed a kiss to your temple with a smile. You giggled, feeling incredibly satisfied, as you turned to your left and reached into the basket. "Papa hungy?" You babbled as your head disappeared into the basket, making Jake roar into laughter. "Hey where is my baby?!" He looked around extra confused as he acted like he couldn't see you, his laughter still escaping his lips. You drowned in a fit of giggles and raised your head, "papa here!!" He moved closer to you and tickled your stomach, "are you trying to hide from me! Are you trying to hide from me!" You shook your head at his question, laughing and moving so much to the point you almost fell off the bench. You truly were his home.
"His brain activity is very high for someone that's in terrible condition." Lo'ak watched Max from his seat as he spoke, some device in his hand he thought was called a tablet. "What does that mean?" Lo'ak didn't know any of the smart terms used, he was confused. Was that a good thing? Was his father ever going to wake up? Max taps the tablet as he shrugged, "there could be a spiritual answer to this. Something is happening, something unexplainable." Norm, who switched out of his avatar body, stood next to Max as he watched the screen, "Could it be something similar to connecting to the spirit tree?"
"Do you mean visions?" Norm nodded in response, "He may be in Eywa's hands now." Lo'ak watched his father's expressionless face. He looked so peaceful, without any worries. Whenever Jake looked at him, there was always a frown on his face as his forehead would be creased. In front of him was an expression he never saw on his father before. He never imagined that he would miss that annoyed expression Jake would flash toward him whenever he would cause trouble. He just wished his father would wake up.
Jake felt himself floating, his body fading into nothingness. His eyes were expressionless, as the scene of you dying repeated in his head. "I can't.." he mumbled to himself, believing that you truly had died and that he failed in protecting you, that he was too late in wrapping himself around you, not knowing he was the one in the worst condition. At this point, he closed his eyes, wishing he just died. He couldn't do it without you. "You're terrible, you know that right?" A voice echoed through the darkness and the familiarity made him open his eyes. It was a voice he didn't hear in a while. When he opened his eyes, he wasn't on Pandora. This was earth. Not a sight of green as he stood in an empty city. It wasn't just a city, it was the city he grew up in. The vibe was very gloomy. He looked at his hands, still blue. He was still Na'vi. "Jake, bro don't just ignore me like that." His eyes twitched at that same voice. He looked around, and when he did his surroundings changed. He knew this floor, these walls, and the pictures decorating the mossy green walls. This was his childhood home. He stood in the hallway and slowly made his way to the living room. That's where he saw himself. No, not himself. That wasn't him. It was the only person that looked identical to him. "Good to see you, Jake." Tommy grinned from his seating position on the couch. "Tommy?! You're supposed to be dead! What are you doing here?!" A laugh escaped Tommy's lips in return, motioning for his brother to sit with him, "And you're dying as well, so what are you trying to say?" Jake frowned at that statement. He was dying? What was happening? "You know, you're pretty terrible." Jake took a seat on the much smaller couch in comparison to his size, as he listened to his brother, "how come?"
"Well, first of all, you're a terrible father for both little (Y/N) and your children by blood. Leaving her alone for a new life, THEN!! Then you proceed to also be a terrible father for your Na'vi kids. If I was still alive in my avatar body, I would have been a good man." Tommy explained as he sat back, his hands on the back of his head. Jake wanted to reply, but for some reason, he couldn't talk, as if his mouth got stolen. "Let me finish my talk. You're barely spending time with your kids like a father. Treating them like little soldiers and healers instead of your dad. Then, you try to win little (Y/N) over, proceeding to completely ignore your kids in this process. You're so terrible. And now you're dying!! Wow! The great Jake achieved nothing and he's on his deathbed!!" Tommy clapped while laughing, but Jake couldn't do anything in return. His lip quivered. Was he that bad of a father? He failed everyone around him. His family was his fortress, but he couldn't even be a proper father. "Now now, don't cry. You can come back to life, maybe!" Tommy threw his hand in the air and suddenly Jake could talk again. Sobs left his lips as he got his voice back, "I'm so terrible."
"Good that you realize that!"
"You're not helping, Tommy!" A scream left his lips as he said that. The tears rolled down his cheeks as the realization hit him so hard. "I'm helping though! I'm here to tell you you can live again!" Tommy hit Jake on the back of his head. "But how are you here in the first place?!" This entire thing confused Jake. Was this Eywa's doing? Tommy never went to Pandora and he isn't even connected to a spirit tree. So how? "Listen, I'm as confused as you. But I have been haunting you in my ghost form you know? Anyway, as I was saying. How do you feel about a third chance?" Jake's gaze faltered at that question. He didn't know. He failed as a father, so many times. Did he deserve this one? His second chance was going to Pandora to change his life for the better, but it made him leave his daughter. Now he died, knowing he failed as a father while family was his main priority.
Just what did he do to deserve to live?
A/N: thank you so much for reading! Let me know what you thought. <3 sorry if this part was kinda lacking, been tired.
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