#i wish i knew her when she was happy i wish i knew my dad when he was happy they were so
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cardigan
pairing: lando norris x reader
word count: 2.7k
warnings: alcohol consumption, cursing, angst (a bit), lando and reader are teenagers (for the most part)
author's note: im sorry for any mistakes, or if i missed a warning, this was supposed to be really inspired by Taylor Swift's cardigan but i got kind of lost in the plot lmao
*
Oh. How you loved this. Giggles of you and your friends were echoing through the house. No one even had an idea of what they were talking about, and half of the words coming out of their mouths were slurred. You weren’t sure about what was going on. Except for Lando’s burning touch on your shoulder. It felt too good.
Being completely lost in the moment, you nearly didn’t even hear your phone ringing. You reached for it and walked into a different room. You didn’t read the name of the caller, and you should’ve, because when you picked up, your mom started berating you.
“Mom. Don’t worry I’ll come home in a few hours.” You blurted out. “Oh no, young lady. You’re coming home right now!” she raised her voice and continued. “When you’re an adult you can do whatever you want! But you’re not, so you’re coming home!” You sighed. Really? “Okay. I’ll be home in a bit.”
She hung up and you walked back to where your friends were having the time of their lives. “I’m going home, guys.” You said and grabbed your jacket that was thrown over the sofa. The ‘why’s’ of your friends were filling your ears. “I’ll drive you.” Lando jumped up and dragged you out of the house.
“For who did you get all dressed up like that? I’m surprised you can even walk in them.” Lando commented on your heels as they clicked against the cobblestone path. You just giggled and sat in the passenger’s seat. “You seem too happy, did you want to get out of there or something?” you asked as he started driving.
“Well, you know I prefer 1 on 1 conversations. That was too much chaos.” “I doubt that you party lion.” He smiled. The car fell into a comfortable silence. As you stopped at a traffic light you felt Lando’s eyes scanning you.
“I’ve never seen you wearing that t-shirt. Is it ne-“ “Oh no. It was my mom’s.” You cut him off and giggled. “Vintage. So adorable.” You both exploded into laughter at the mean girls reference. He stopped in front of your house and you wished that the ride would last longer. You thanked him and got out of the car.
You felt his eyes following your silhouette as you walked inside. The front door shut and you leaned against it. “Mom already went to sleep,” your dad said and you exhaled deeply. “Oh, Lando drove you home. He’s such a nice young man isn’t he?” You rolled your eyes and rushed towards your room.
Lando knew you too well. Putting on those high heels was one of your biggest regrets and they were kicked off immediately. You could barely bring yourself to remove your makeup and change your clothes. But somehow you did. Finally, the bed sank under your body and your mind was already drifting off.
Your phone beeped. Lando.
Hope you can hang out next weekend :).
Oh shit. You totally forgot you’re turning 18 next weekend.
I def can, mom didn’t say anything. You giggled to yourself as you sent the message.
She was asleep. Wasn’t she?
You burst out laughing. Yeah, and?
His message popped up immediately: Go to sleep Y/N. Well, why argue.
*
That week went by too fast. School didn’t give you a chance to take a break. But, Saturday rolled around, and now you’re 18. Isn’t it crazy? Only, if you could actually enjoy it.
There were so many family members in your house, half of them you didn’t even know. And now you were thinking if your mom hasn’t just turned your birthday party into a family reunion. It was too boring. The time went by even slower than when you were in school. You just did your job. Talked to everyone, you even smiled at them politely.
After a long long time, it was finally silent. Just you, your dad and your mom. And you probably jinxed it, because your phone started ringing. “Ugh, another cousin calling.” You thought before you picked your phone up. Could not be more wrong.
It’s Lando.
“Yeah?” you picked up.
“Don’t you want to go somewhere? Somewhere out?” He spoke slowly.
“Oh. Uhh, sure? Where are you right-““Outside your house, come out.” He laughed into the phone and hung up.
You grabbed the closest thing you could put on and walked outside. Your mom’s cardigan. Your feet carried you outside, while your brain wasn’t sure of this. Whatever.
“Hii!” Lando yelled and hugged you. “Happy birthday! Come on!” He started walking away instantly. “Hey! Where are we going?” You ran after him. “Don’t you want to relax by the lake?” He said, shutting you up immediately.
Like always, it was quiet. Ducks floated on top of the lake and some insects you weren’t able to recognize flew around you. This was so peaceful. It was like a whole new world. That's just what you needed.
“Look at what I got you,” Lando spoke up. He pulled out two small bottles of alcohol from his pocket and threw one into your lap. “Come on” he muttered as he unscrewed the cap off his bottle. You let him open yours too.
“I really want to see your reaction,” he laughed as he handed it back to you. You didn’t waste any time as you brought it to your lips and took a sip. Your nose scrunched instantly, and that’s all Lando needed to burst into laughter. “Try mine.”
One sip turned to two, and then it went downhill pretty quickly. “Come on Lando!” You whined as you dragged him behind you. “I have to get home!” You giggled. He pulled you into a hug, which you didn’t mind. Your whole body was cold, and he had a warmth you couldn’t explain.
It was dark already and the only light that illuminated you was a streetlight right above you. “You’re so warm. I’m freezing.” Lando grunted. Huh? “No, you’re the hot one.” You forgot how to think, and it was obvious by now. “Wow. Thank you.” He just chuckled while you were endlessly defending yourself. Ugh, it’s not like he’s a genius when he’s drunk too.
And just right after you both calmed down, a song started to play from a nearby house. “How loud did he put it on, if we can hear it here?” You burst out laughing. “Don’t laugh. Dance with me.” Well, who were you to deny that request?
His touch was a tingling sensation on your skin, something you wished you could feel forever. He danced slowly, probably to not make you throw up from the moves. And while you felt sick, it all felt like a beautiful dream. Something not real. It was just too good.
“Lando…Home” you whispered into his neck, and without a protest he started walking you home. Supported you, caught you when you stumbled, then opened the front door of your house. You kicked off your shoes and sat on the floor. “Okay, goodnight, pretty.” He said in a hushed voice as he shut the door behind him and blood instantly rushed into your cheeks.
“Had a nice night out, young lady?” Your tired dad walked out of the kitchen and went to pick you up from the floor. “Let’s get you to bed.” He suggested and you exhaled. “Please don’t tell mom, please dad.” “I won’t, just go to bed.”
*
And it’s Monday again. Ugh. You hated your Monday classes, especially physics. Your brain couldn’t understand anything at this hour. You nearly fell asleep numerous times, and your blinking turned into microsleep. Your phone, which wasn’t charged from last night, vibrated in your pocket and you reached for it.
Of course, it's Lando.
Are you free after school?
Yeah. You typed out a quick response and stuffed your phone back into the pocket.
And until lunch you were walking around with the biggest grin on your face. Like a little kid with a lollypop. Except, you needed to show Lando's response to your girls.
I'll wait for you in front of the school, ok? You read the message aloud to them, who couldn’t refrain themselves from aww-ing. “He definitely wants you.” Your best friend giggled and you rolled your eyes. A chorus of agreement came from all sides of the table. “We’re just friends, I swear.” “Yeah… But you’re in love with him.”
*
Finally, out of the school. Seeing Lando wait there for you made your heart jump a bit. Maybe your friend was right. “Come on, they're waiting for us.” Lando smiled and started walking. “Who? If I can ask?” “Oh, right, just some of my friends.”
Well, you found out that you have a different definition for “some friends”. You expect just your closest friend group. Not another 10 people. And you had no idea who they were. You and Lando sat down on the grass next to them.
“I need to do my homework.” Lando proclaimed and you burst out laughing. “You? Homework? Good joke.” “It’s actually important, you know?” Lando said with a quiet voice while everyone was laughing. But they moved on from that really quickly. Now they were gossiping about some random people.
Lando kept scribbling into his notebook. Scribbling a whole lot of nothing. “What the hell are you doing?” You whispered and he shushed you. “I don’t want to be here.” He muttered and started doodling on your arm. “Aren’t these your friends?” “I don’t like them.” You scoffed but didn’t question him further.
As you were sitting there for longer and longer, more messy stars and hearts appeared on your arms. Lando was studying you instead of that homework. “When did you get this one?” He asked and you could hear the tiredness in his voice. “Remember when I tried to learn how to skateboard?” He giggled. “No way.” He yawned, and you continued telling him that story.
It didn’t take long and he was already sleeping on your shoulder. How were you going to get him home? You answered your own question almost instantly. Well, that’s just a future you problem.
*
Lando calling you to hang out on the weekends became a routine. A comfortable routine that you loved and appreciated. Until it stopped. Unannounced. And you had no idea why. The thought lingered around in your mind. Maybe, he just got bored of you.
Then one weekend hangouts were revived. He called you. Your heart stopped for a second.
“Hi. You wanna go somewhere out?” he asked, the connection breaking towards the end of the sentence.
“Sure.” You said into the phone, trying so hard to be cool.
“I’ll come pick you up in 10.” He blurted out and ended the call.
You haven’t talked to him in so long. Now he sounds totally different. You put on some random clothes that were thrown over the chair and bolted outside. Surprisingly, Lando arrived sooner than he promised. No problem.
But just as you were about to open the passenger door, you noticed a girl sitting there. Okay, so now you’ve been demoted to the backseat. You jumped there and Lando turned around to look at you.
“Okay, so the teachers said I have to show her around the town. You don’t mind being my assistant, do you?” Lando explained the situation very quickly. Too quickly. “No, not at all,” he smiled and the girl smiled back.
It was the foreign exchange student. You had English with her. The reason you remember her is just because she always talked about her weekend with Lando. Yeah, you were jealous. And what?
He started driving around showing her all your spots. Where you had the best times of your lives. And now she knows them too. Ugh. Your secret spots weren’t secret anymore. And of course, she has to be the one who sees them. While sitting in your seat.
You were seething and you hated it. This wasn’t fair. You just couldn’t take it.
"Lando, can you drop me off home… My mom wants me to do something." He responded calmly. "Sure." Fuck. He really had no idea. As soon as that car stopped by your house, you jumped out. No goodbye, no see ya. Nothing.
You stomped your way inside and when the door shut behind you. Tears poured out of your eyes. And for once in your life you were happy your mom wasn’t asleep when you came home. She just hugged you, not asking a single question. “Boys are assholes, that one definitely did not deserve you.”
*
The rest of your high school life went by fine. You and Lando stayed friends, just not as close as before. Somehow, he could not figure out why.
The graduation day was something you were looking forward to. You liked having someone by your side, but no one could actually understand you. So the plan was to ghost them. Maybe too harsh, shame that you didn’t give a fuck. You were waiting for your parents so you could go to lunch together. Until you felt a hand on your shoulder.
“Hey, Y/N.” Lando. Of course, it has to be him. “So… This is going to sound absolutely crazy, but…” You rolled your eyes and waited for whatever shitty idea he was about to introduce you to. “Do you want to travel around the country with me?” He asked, not sure if you were even listening. “I have classes I don’t have to attend and I’ll do my assignments on the road.”
“I can’t do that, are you crazy? I got into a good university and I won’t do some random shit with you, just because you want to.” You snapped at his unawareness. “I actually value my education-“ “I do too, please, it would be so fun.” He whined out. “How about you go ask your perfect best friend. I’m sure she'd love to go with you” His eyes went wide.
“Is this all because of her?” “All? What is that?” you asked, clearly mocking his voice. “You’re avoiding me, not wanting to hang with me and now you’re a bitch about it. I didn’t know you were so jealous.” He scoffed and walked away from you.
“Enjoy that dumb trip!” You can’t believe this is how your friendship ends. You can’t believe that you’re still in love with that asshole.
*
And as pathetic as that sounds, every day of your university life you regretted saying no to Lando. That little crush didn’t go away. Your mom just couldn't stop showing you photos from his social media accounts (that you had blocked). And it was like he was haunting you.
When you were walking through your hometown, you were thinking about the good memories you made.
Men who wore cologne like his made you stop in your tracks.
The conversation on that graduation day was like a song you couldn’t stop playing in your mind.
You wished that the stars he drew on your skin were permanent tattoos.
You cursed him out for not being more convincing that day. You cursed out that girl for blinding you with jealousy. You didn’t see the truth because of the dark green haze.
He was everywhere, but still nowhere. You were sure you had developed hallucinations by now.
And there wasn’t a night you weren’t thinking about what could’ve happened if you said yes. If wouldn’t cut him off. If you both just matured and stopped acting like nothing was wrong. If you started dating instead of tiptoeing around a label.
Fuck. If only you weren’t dumb teenagers.
*
Back home for holidays. And everything reminded you of him. Even your house wasn’t safe. Your parents decided to visit your neighbors, and you swore you’d go crazy in that time.
It’s hard being always correct. All the photos you hung up on the wall were with Lando and you didn’t know if to smile or cry. But, you decided to stop emotionally destroying yourself and went to the living room. You couldn't handle being in own room. That sounds crazy. Just as you got comfortable, the doorbell rang over the opening of your favorite TV show.
Aren’t they home just too soon? Maybe they just forgot something. But as you opened the door you nearly got a heart attack.
Lando.
“What are you doing here?” You asked, your voice soft like never before.
“You’re here. I can’t believe it.” He stammered.
“Of course, I’m here. Why are you so shocked?” you responded. It was like both of you were on thin ice. One bad word or move and you’ll both fall apart.
“I’ve been trying to apologize to you for so long, but you’re never here.” His voice trembled.
“You’ve been waiting for me?” Your eyes were full of tears and a smile formed on your quaking lips.
“Of course, I always loved you.”
#formula 1#formula one#f1#lando norris#lando norris x reader#lando norris fanfic#lando norris fic#lando norris x you#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 imagine
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heart full of love and yearning after watching one bollywood movie
#that too with my mom!!!!!!! and okay like#it was rocky and rani okay so lots of old songs so she was telling me about the songs the actors actresses in it the way it was famous in#their time#it was sweet it's so fascinating listening to my parents talk about music and movies like they used to be young once starry eyes and hopefu#and a little bit stupid and open to love😭#i wish i knew her when she was happy i wish i knew my dad when he was happy they were so#awesome and carefree and fun😭#okay but alia bhatt >>>>>>#there was this scene ranveers dad was shouting at him telling him to shut her up with his hands jn her face and he kept getting louder#like they do when they're about to hit you#and sheSLAPPED HIS HAND AWAY AND SAID BUT NO MAIN ABHI BAAT KAR RAHI HU NA#most satisfying scene ever in entire bollywood so sick of women giving important speeches and the Man goes in to hit her and her love in#interest saves her from getting hit#like yes i get it love and loverboy standing up to his dad all very nice but thank u she can protect herself just fine!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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i can't get clear pictures of victoria w her eyes open bc she has two modes KILLING AND VIOLENCE and snooooork mimimimi
#she's a sweet cat she's just a homicidal maniac#rn she is huddled next to me on the bed facing the doorway to be ready for all possible threats#but when she conks out she gives zero fucks abt anything#she'll snuggle up on me or next to me and it's lights out#apparently she only recently became adoptable according to the woman i got her from#like she just decided one day that she liked people after all#i miss lily every single day but i'm also happy we happened to be in the right place + time to take victoria#she was so sick and scared and hid in the corner of my closet when we brought her home#but the first night she came up on the bed and laid a careful distance away from me...#and once she had her bad teeth removed and the ear mites exterminated she was like a brand new kitty cat#there was no adoption fee bc it wasn't an official adoption but i think her previous owner knew she needed care that she couldn't afford#i felt really guilty abt the vet bills for a cat i picked out but my dad adores her and tells me all the time he's happy we took her home#i just wish i could get better pics bc she's so cute!!! lily would pose for me all the time but victoria wants to eat my phone fkjhgfdjh
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i love fuji ㅠㅠ he’s the cutest shoujo heroine
his relationship with sengoku is really sweet. i really like the build up between these two
#desiree talks#desiree reads#manga#shoujo#the mangaka even refers fuji as the heroine so im going with that#i just finished maid-sama earlier and i still prefer this one#the main thing that bothered me was usui not having anyone but misaki#like literally no friends#the other characters i wish had more development#like misaki’s friend with the twin tails? why couldn’t you convince me her bf wasn’t an ass with the 4ish chapters you gave them#why did aoi have to get with honoka when she knew him when he was 14#sure they got together when he was 20 but… eehhh#i wish they has misaki actually resolve things with her dad to some extent instead of leaving him hanging for a decade#the childhood friend getting wth his crushes younger sister bothered me too a bit#since i can’t imagine being with someone who loved my sibling for a decade#i wish they showed more of him actually falling for her#since he still talked about liking misa around the time the sister was going for him#at least i sorta saw it coming#i still feel bad for the school vice president since he kept getting forced to crossdress#like i dont mind when a guy crossdresses because it makes him happy but i get uncomfortable when theyre crying when theyre forced#anyway mizutama is super cute and im sad it never got an english release#i still plan to buy a set in japanese one day along with a few other series
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#i looooooove crying into my mother's lap and not being able to tell her what's wrong when she tries to comfort me#because if i tell she'd be the first to want me dead <3#i looooove having to listen to her spout the most vitriolic homophobic hate speech and nod and laugh#looooove knowing how much pain and suffering she's wishing upon me without knowing it#love knowing that not only would my dad wish me dead but he'd probably do it himself if he knew i've dated a girl#love not having a support system or a single support person except them and having to play along so i dont lose that!#i'm going to take a nap and not think about this and when i wake up we'll be a happy family again <3#happy pride everyone#homophobia tw
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‘satoru hates arguments. even more so when your conflicts cause your baby daughter to be upset as well.’
☀︎｜tags. (girl) dad!gojo satoru x female reader. fluff, angst, comfort. mention of arguments between parents. comfort & happy ending, though!
satoru hates having arguments with you. he hates it whenever an argument turns into the silent treatment. he apologises and apologises — yet nothing helps to change your mood sometimes.
ever since you got married and had your daughter, you were a bit more sensitive to the smallest of things than usual. it wasn’t like satoru despised you for it; in fact, he understands that motherhood was and is stressful. that man was nothing but supportive to you.
though, your little arguments were indirectly having an impact on the mental state of your baby. you didn’t even know an one year old could sense the tension between her parents.
“mama, mama!” your daughter appears out of nowhere, waddling over to you standing in the kitchen. she had barely just learnt how to walk. her tiny hand reaches for yours and she points at the doorway with her other, “go, mama, go.”
you curiously let your little girl lead you towards where she was pointing at, only to arrive at the living room. satoru was sitting on the couch, idly staring at the ceiling, other hand fiddling with one of your daughter’s toys. he seemed deep in thought. even exhausted and clearly not his playful self.
“mama, go! mama go papa.”
satoru’s head turns to the side at the cute sound of his favourite little girl. he smiles brightly at her return to the living room, only for his smile to fade just for a second at the sight of you next to her. he isn’t mad at you—more like sad that you still seemed upset with him.
your daughter tugs at your index finger. she apparently wants you to go to her dad—wants you to interact or talk with him. her big eyes were staring up at you with a pleading look in them.
you were in a dilemma. of course, you wanted to put your daughter’s mind at ease. you could just fake interact with satoru—or actually just make it up—but there was still a small part of you that needed time alone. you weren’t yet mentally ready for another confrontation. you needed time to think it out.
however, part of you also knows that your earlier argument was kind of silly. you don’t even fully remember what it was about, that’s how irrelevant it was to your brain.
“c’mon, pumpkin. ‘tis not nice for you to bother mama while she’s cooking.” satoru’s soft voice startles you back to reality. he had already gotten up and crouched down to pick your daughter up in his arms, kissing her chubby cheeks to distract her; “mama’s busy, ‘kay? let’s go play with papa.”
even satoru knew that your argument had caused your little girl to feel some kind of stress. she didn’t fully comprehend the situation, though she was clearly uncomfortable by the fact that her parents were not acting nice and lovey dovey like they usually would.
“no, papa. mama!” the baby whines and points at you and then at satoru, her little legs kicking. it absolutely broke satoru’s heart — shattered it into pieces. oh, how he wishes to never fight with you again. the sight of his little bundle of joy trying to mend things between you two with all she could was simply too much.
satoru looks down at you and notices the way you look at your one year old as well. the same way he did; with guilt and sadness. he sighs softly and without further thought, wraps his free arm around your shoulders and brings you close to his body.
“c’mere,” satoru murmurs as he holds both your daughter and you to his chest, “let me hold my two girls, yeah? may i, sweetheart? please.”
your husband asks for your consent. if you were okay with this—even when he needs it desperately, to hold you again in his arms and to make it right to you—your comfort comes first. if you weren’t ready yet to make up, he’d let you go. even if it’d hurt him immensely.
you don’t answer with your words and instead let your actions do the talking. you wrap one arm around satoru’s torso, the other cradling your daughter closer to both you and him.
it was like nothing mattered anymore in that moment, except for your little family. your worries, stress and anxiety about everything and anything had vanished into thin air as you felt the embrace of the two people you held dear.
your daughter finally giggles—a sound satoru and you had greatly missed. you close your eyes and just rest against your husband’s body.
“mama papa, wuv!” the little girl squeals in happiness as she excitedly babbles on, causing both satoru and you to laugh as well. the white-haired sorcerer leaves a big peck on the baby’s forehead before doing the same to you.
“mhm, papa loves mama veeery much.” satoru hums and kisses your forehead again, solely because he missed being affectionate to you, “papa loves his sweet little angel too.”
you can’t help but chuckle along with your one year old—who seemed to be extremely content in her parents’ loving embrace again. this is how it always should be.
“mama also loves papa very much.” you reply, causing your husband to regain his usual big grin. he finally got what he longed for; to have you look and talk to him with love. your silence may have lasted only a few hours, but it felt like it had been a couple cruel months to the sorcerer.
your eyes meet his again and all was well. you smile at him and he smiles back before leaning in to kiss you gently on the lips. satoru’s arm that was draped over your shoulder moves down to curl around your lower back, pulling you as close to him as your bodies would allow.
he pulls back after a few seconds and just lovingly stares at your face again—eyes holding an affection only you had ever been able to witness. your eyes told the same story; nothing could separate you two. ever.
“waaaaah! mama papa, me, me!”
the romantic air between you two suddenly gets interrupted by your daughter’s excited demands. she was demanding kisses as well, puffing her cheeks up as she got ready for it.
“ohh? seems like our angel wants some kisses too.” satoru laughs and nods his head at the baby in his other arm whilst looking at you, “shall we?”
you giggle and nod back—not able to refuse your little girl any longer.
it was not long before the living room fills with the sounds of your child’s laughter, which was caused by the continuous kisses and tickles she was receiving from both satoru and you.
#sttoru writes.#jjk x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#jjk fluff#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#gojo x you#gojo satoru x you#gojo x y/n#jjk x female reader#jjk fanfic
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#im really just ranting so pleasr ignore this post it really isnt that serious i just need to vomit it all out before i crash#i wish i knew who i was i wish i knew who i was going to be who i would havr been before everythong went to shit#before my parents beat my soul into submission before i retreated into myself so hard im killing myself just trying to come out again#i dont know who i am or what i want or even how to begin ttying any of that#my therapist started saying all the same things my dad would say abiut me and about my qork and about my life#id been with her for over 5 years so maybe she is right maybe my dad was right maybe my parents were right maybe i do deserve nothing#i hate my body but my partner says its beautiful i can barely face the day but my partner is happy when i do#they say my parents were wrong in so many ways but why is it taking me so long to prove it#ive been bad my whole life o was a bad kid a bad friend a bad adult but i wanna be goood so bad ii might puke#i know i can be good but why cant i prove it why is it stopping me why cant i push my my brain why cant i hit the override and just LIVE#its hard being 25 when i didnt think id make it to 15#its hard living when all you want to do is give up i want to give up i wish i could and maybe a few years ago i would have#but now for the first time in my life i want to live i want to do good but my brain body and soul have no idea how#i think im autistic and the worst part is realizing how much of me that is how much i should havr been cared for#i have to learn how to live in the world but the world is so scary and it hurts and my therapist talkrd a lot about getting used to it#she wanted me to dive in and didnt understand no matter how many qays i tried to explain to her how much it painrd me to try it her way#i wish i could just do it that i could grin and bear it but i cant anymore i cant just do it#i wish i could just become who i was supposed to be someone without the pain and the torture and the constant berating#someone who can have a job and cook dinner and still feel whole after it all#i jist want to live i want to be good i want to get better and i feel like peeling my skin off my body i feel like ripping out my teeth#it makes me feel awful every time i cant do sometbing because i was getting better i couod feel it and now im in hell this is worse#i feel like im experiencing depression for the first time all over again ivw never been so violently thrown bacj into the pit#please i want out i want to hear creaks without thinking someone is 8n my home i want to clean like someone isnt watching me#i want to move around my home like i dont expect to be graded i want to be able to sleep at night and not have tomorrow ruined by flashback#im so so tired and for the first time in my life o dont wanna give up i wanna be better but i dont know how#every time i try to get help something goes wrong and i run out of insurance soon so im probably just fucked#my antidepressants arent doing shit and my birth control makes everything harder and i jist wish i could take medication and live#im tired im tired but ive been crying in the bathroom for over an hour because sometbing so stupid triggered me#and now im a child again and i have work tomorrow and i cant scream and cry into my partner cause they have work#they work so hard for us and i can barely do a day im so fucking pathetic and yet they stay with me
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𝐬𝐮𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥
summary: you were a pogue, and now you're a kook. just like how once you were no one's, and now you're rafe cameron's.
author's note: here it is!!! imagine like s1 rafe with the s2 hair, and basically just having a former-pogue girlfriend through out the whole season. i just think rafe would actually be such a good boyf, he just needs someone to settle him down when he gets a lil crazy. follows the sequence of s1 until about 3/4ths down, where i just started making stuff up. you might read this & think no one would act like this.. and that's fine, i know they wouldn't, but this is a self indulgent story for rafe <3 part 2 of the other seasons maybe? enjoy!!
now spinning: black beauty by lana del rey (soooooo rafe coded! he just needs a hug and some pussy!)
word count: 13.5k
warnings/tags: wheeze is a toddler for no reason. reader isn't the biggest fan of the pogues at this point in time. smut: oral (f receiving), fingering, degregation, use of daddy, rafe calls reader kid because <3, lemme know if i forgot something!
“So that’s it? Really? Your mom is marrying a Kook and you’re moving across the island… just like that?” John B speaks to you as if you had any choice in the matter. You look at him sadly, but you’ve cried so much the last few days, it’s hard to find any more tears.
You want to tell him, want to explain everything. The way your mom has been so lonely for years, ever since your dad passed away. The way she would pull double-shifts every week just to make sure you had the nice, trendy shoes and hot dinner every night. The way you grew up in the cut but it never felt any different than growing up in figure eight, because she took care of you.
And now it was your turn, to take care of her. Blake Richards was rich, and he wanted to take care of your mom, which meant for the first time in a long time, she would be the one being taken care of. And you owed that to her, you owed that much.
“I-I don’t really have a choice, John B. I mean, this is my mom. And she’s getting her chance to be happy. I can’t ruin it for her.”
“Yeah, I get all that but, like, does this mean you’re gonna go full-Kook on us? Because I think that would just be disturbing,” JJ says, and you crack a smile, even as you feel a tear spill down your cheek.
“I don’t think I could ever go full-Kook.” It comes out quietly, a notch above a whisper.
“Hey, hey,” you hear John’s voice again, as he stands up to get closer to you. You feel embarrassed, the way your cheeks flush and heat up when he’s only a few inches away from you. He wipes the tear away with his thumb. “No crying, okay? Nothing has to change.”
The way he says it, you almost believe him.
“Right,” you say, still quiet. There’s a sob stuck behind your throat, and you don’t want the boys to know how upset you really are. You’ve stitched up these boys more times than you can count, set shoulders and bones and nursed bruises for them. “Nothing has to change,” you repeat, trying to convince yourself. Everything was about to change, starting with your relationship with them.
And that’s the one thing you wish could stay the same. Deep down, no matter how many times you were teased and laughed with, there was a part of you, buried away, that thought you would end up with one of these boys one day. Sweet John, funny JJ, smart Pope. Well, maybe not Pope. You’ve seen the way he stares at Kie, even when no one else notices.
But John and JJ, the possibility of being with one of them always lingered in the air. Even when they’re flirting with tourists or cracking so-called boy jokes that you just wouldn’t understand, you always thought they were your endgame.
If only you knew.
Pope and Kiara drive up, just as you’re wiping away another tear. You’re dreading repeating everything to them, shedding more tears.
౨ৎ
“Who is that?” Topper asks, eyeing some girl entering the club. Rafe was getting sick of Topper crying over every pretty girl he saw on the street when he was supposedly dating his sister. He hardly cared about Sarah, daddy’s favorite, but that was his family, and he wouldn’t tolerate disrespect to his family.
“She must be fresh meat,” Kelce says, “I’ve never seen her before.”
“Tourist?” Topper questions. Rafe downs the rest of his drink.
“Nah, man, see that guy ahead of her? That’s Blake Richards. My dad works with him, he’s a big finance guy. He’s a widower, but I guess not anymore.”
“Step-daughter? Jesus,” Topper says. “It’s like a cheesy porno. But I wouldn’t be surprised if he married her mom to tap that, I mean-”
“Enough,” Rafe snaps. “Shouldn’t you be in a fight with my sister?” Topper blanches.
“I mean, look at her Rafe. That is something special,” Kelce says, and then finally, Rafe lifts his head to look at you.
You look… confused. Your head is turning, taking in everything about the club, like you’d never been there before. A waiter comes up to your family with tall glasses of water, little pieces of cucumber and lemon floating around in them with ice cubes. Richards—your step-father—takes a glass and hands it to a woman who can only be your mother, with the same hair and complexion. Before he can take a glass to hand to you, you take it from the tray yourself, smiling and saying thank you. The waiter, some teenage Pogue, blushes at your affection.
When you start walking, continuing the tour, the waiter turns to look at you walk away, gawking like men do when they see something pretty. Rafe feels an overwhelming urge to punch the kid, and cover you up with his jacket.
You’re not in anything too immodest, compared to what he’s seeing girls at the club walking around in, but it feels like it’s too much for the leering eyes that follow you. Your jean skirt comes down a little less than half-way to your thighs. Your shirt is white, with puffy sleeves and little buttons that tighten around the chest.
He sees a glimpse of cleavage, which makes his chest tighten uncomfortably, not in the way he’s used to when he sees a pretty girl. He wants to take his shirt off his back and slide it onto you, buttoning it up all the way and making sure no one else looks at you the way he’s looking at you right now.
“Rafe?” his friend calls, and he’s not sure which one. In your glancing, you turn towards Rafe and you lock eyes for a second. You must have noticed him staring. You probably think he’s crazy, but he doesn’t seem to care much at the moment. Your mother must have beckoned you, because you turn away in a second, walking towards the older couple, trailing behind them again.
“Be right back,” he says, leaving a confused Topper and Kelce behind him at the table. He cuts through the tables near the bar, entering the walkway where your family is already, but coming out of the other end. He gets there just in time to run into Richards, who’s leading the little group.
“Hi, Mr. Richards, right?” he says, holding his hand out. “Rafe Cameron.”
“Oh, Rafe, hi,” the older man replies, shaking his hand. Rafe grips hard, making sure Richards doesn’t think he has a wimpy handshake. Otherwise he’s never gonna agree to what Rafe has in mind. “I haven’t seen you in years, I mean you were half your height last time I was over at Tannyhill.”
“Crazy, right? Well I just wanted to say hi since I ran into you. How’s, uh Benny and Brax?”
“I can’t believe you remember them, they haven’t been to Kildare in years. They’re good, yeah, Benny’s in California now, and Brax is out at law school, at Oxford.”
“Oh yeah, international law, right?”
“Yeah,” Richards says, smiling wide. “You’ve got quite a memory, son, I’ll have to tell Rafe when I see him.”
“Oh yeah, he’s around here somewhere.” Then, he makes his move. He turns his gaze to your mom first. He thinks about it briefly, but if he addresses you before her, your mom will be on guard. He knows how their minds work. “I don’t believe we’ve met before, I’m Rafe,” and he shakes your mom’s hand, but turns back to Richards for the introduction—something else in his little cheat-sheet of rules. Let dad do the talking, so he feels like he’s in control.
“Rafe, this is my wife, Anna-”
“Nice to meet you, Rafe,” your mom smiles at him sweetly, and he smiles back.
“-and my step-daughter.” You smile, and hold your hand out. He shakes your hand, gently, and looks at your face, because he can tell the smile is forced. He wonders why.
“Nice to meet you.” he says, and you smile that forced way again.
“You too, Rafe.” You let go of his hand, and it’s good, because if he held on any longer, the adults would get suspicious.
“First time here?” he questions, still looking at you.
“Yes,” your mother answers, laughing, if not a little uncomfortably. “Is it that obvious?”
“Nah, it’s a lot to take in, I remember that much.” Richards smiles at him, almost beaming. He knows Rafe has been coming here since he could walk. That means the old man appreciates him trying to comfort his new family. Another step closer.
“It is,” Anna says, looking at her daughter. She has those worried eyes, the one Ward’s new wife won’t stop looking at him with.
“Well, it’s the perfect place to be all summer. I mean, pretty much everyone our age is at the pool or the courts.” At his mention of the both of you, you look up from staring at your shoes quickly to looking right at him. He smiles. You don’t smile back.
“Really?” Richards asks, still openly friendly.
“I mean yeah, Mister R, I remember Benny on the golf course, like, everyday. And Brax, I mean he practically taught half of us how to swim.” Richards nods and laughs, continuing small talk about his sons. Rafe sneaks another glance at you, and you look back knowingly, like you can smell his intentions from a mile away.
“Honey?” your mom asks quietly. “Do you wanna go with Rafe?”
“What?” you reply quickly, surprised. You weren’t listening, and he tries hard not to laugh.
“Well, I can take you ‘round, introduce you to everyone. I’ll finish the tour if you and Mrs. Richards are heading up to the course?” He nods at the golf clothes your parents have on, that you are lacking.
“I think that sounds great, right, honey?” Anna presses, and after you lock eyes with her, you nod in agreement.
“Yeah, sure,” you say quietly. Rafe smiles again.
“Great, great, yeah. Well, it was great to see you Mister R. Missus R.”
“Thank you, Rafe. Kiddo, you can ask for the car to go home when you’re ready, okay? Your mother and I are going to get dinner here.” Anna looks up confused, probably wondering how they’ll get back.
“I’ll call someone to bring the car back, honey,” he explains, and your mom smiles.
“I can also take her back,” Rafe interjects. “Tannyhill is the same direction, and I’m headed back anyways. If you wanna leave the car here.”
“Really, Rafe, that would be great, thank you.” You look even angrier than before, but the plastic smile spread over your face doesn’t faze them.
“Right, thanks, Blake. Bye mom,” you say, and then lean over to kiss her on the cheek.
You watch them walk away, chewing your cheek and turning back to Rafe with anger splashed all over your pretty features.
“I can’t believe that worked on them,” you tell him quietly, smiling when your mom turns back to look at you before they turn the corner. Your parents were too gullible sometimes.
“Yeah, me either, kid.”
“Don’t call me that,” you reply right away. “And despite what you think, I’m not touring this place with you. I’m probably never coming back here after today.” You start walking away, in the opposite direction of your parents, when he chases behind you.
“Y’know, I don’t get you. Every girl your age lounges around here all day, and everyone else wishes they could.”
“Well, you know what they say,” you start, smiling sweetly, though he sees through it again. “Idle hands are the devil’s workshop.”
“Really?” he shrugs. “Never heard that before.”
“Yeah, you wouldn’t have.”
“Come on, you’re not even giving me a chance. You don’t even know me.” You laugh at that.
“Yes, I do, Rafe, you just don’t recognize me.” You continue your brisk pace, looking for the exit and getting closer. He reaches out to grab your forearm, holding you back for a second. He guides you into the corner, between the hallway where there’s no one else around.
“Yeah, that so?” Rafe is almost caging you in. He’s so close you can smell his cologne and the scotch on his lips.
“I’m from Kildare, Rafe.” You try to break free of his grip, but it proves even harder than you thought. He holds you in place without even breaking a sweat.
“No, no, no, because I know every pretty girl in Kildare. And you’ve definitely never been here before, so-”
“Really? Even the ones from the cut?” You thought that would be enough to get him to drop your arm, but he doesn’t budge.
“Huh. So that’s why you’ve never been here. Old Man Richards married a Pogue and made her daughter into a Kook? Did I get that right?”
“I’m not a Kook,” you say, squirming, because you still don’t want to be trapped by him. His cologne smells good, your mind wanders and thinks, like ocean air and sandalwood. You snap out of it at once.
“Not yet, you’re not.”
“I’m not going to be, either. A little money isn’t going to change anything for me.”
“Yeah, yeah, kid. That’s what everyone says, ‘til it does.”
“Rafe, let go of me, I said let go-” And he does let go, quickly, and your arm falls. Faint red marks appeared when he was holding on, what can only be a bruise tomorrow. He’s marked you, and you’re not half as angry as you would have thought.
“Come on, kid, we’re finishing this tour. I promised,” he says, and the last bit is so mocking, you can’t believe mom and Blake fell for his act.
He takes you around the entire club, shows you the restaurants, the spa, the pool. At least a handful of girls stare at the two of you walking side by side, but Rafe doesn’t look back at anyone. You don’t know how to feel about that.
The oldest Cameron isn’t a mystery to anyone in Kildare, but you don’t know anything about him besides what the boys have told you. JJ hates him, naturally, John doesn’t let you look at him in passing, and even Pope can find a few bad things to say. But right now, he’s not doing any of those things you would have expected once he found out you and your mom are from the other side of the island. The crude jokes and gold-digger comments are nowhere to be heard.
But you can’t write him off completely yet. After all, this is Rafe Cameron.
He finishes the tour on the golf course, so you can wave to your parents on the course. You’re sipping on a lemonade through a little pink straw, and he finds it hard to look away when your cheeks hollow to draw up the liquid. Your mom and Blake wave back, and you smile—genuinely—for maybe the third time that morning.
“They’re good together,” Rafe comments, on the walk back to the front door, where his truck is waiting.
“Do you really think that?” you ask quietly. You’re tired, he can tell, drained from trying so hard to make sure he knows you hate him.
“Yeah, kid, I do. He’s been a widower basically my whole life. And he married your mom, so he must really love her.”
You can’t tell if he’s just saying it to get on your good side. You hope he’s not. Through all of this, all the crying and the suffering and how much you miss your old life and your friends, if your mom doesn’t at least end up happy, it’ll all have been for nothing. You feel more tears brewing.
“Thanks, Rafe,” you end up saying quietly, as you put on the seat belt in the passenger seat of his truck. His music plays softly in the background of the drive - rap, something you've heard before but can't place - back to Blake’s house. With your window down, you stare out of it and try to pay attention to the breeze in your hair rather than the entirely overwhelming scent of Rafe, which is all-consuming in his car.
Rafe turns to look at you every few minutes. You look perfectly in place in his car, leaning against the panel with your eyes closed. That means you trust him, even though every word you say makes him think otherwise.
Your eyes flutter open when he puts the car in park, outside the door to your house.
“Home sweet home, kid,” you hear his voice in your ear, but he sounds closer than he should be. When you turn to look, he’s leaning over you and so close to you, you feel the heat radiating from his body.
“What’re you doing?” you ask quickly, heartbeat picking up and rocketing off.
“M’just getting the door for you, kid.” His arm flexes, only an inch or two away from your chest, pulling the handle and swinging open the door. He leans back into his seat, smirking. “Why, what'd ya think I was gonna do?”
You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in and swallow uncomfortably. Your throat feels dry and your palms are suddenly clammy.
“Nothing.”
“Sure. Whatever you say.”
You climb out of his car, shoes hitting the ground a little too hard. He strains his neck, trying to make sure you’re okay.
“Thanks for the ride,” you say, not meeting his eyes, closing the door behind you.
“Anytime, kid. I’ll be seeing you around.”
You thought he would take over the second the passenger-side door was shut, but he doesn’t. He stays and watches you fix your skirt that had ridden-up on the drive, and walk into the front door, glancing behind you, just for a second, before going inside. And then you hear the roar of the engine, only after the door was closed and you were safely inside.
౨ৎ
You didn’t take it literally, that you would be seeing him again. Rafe seems like the type to play with his toys and get bored before long, but true to his word, you see him days later. And to his luck, you were feeling even worse than the first time you met him.
The morning started like any other—showering in a bathroom that’s just yours, and no one else’s, and attached to your bedroom. You can hardly remember the years when your dad was alive, but after he passed, you and your mom moved into a tiny two-bed, one-bath with your mom’s best friend. You were there for the next five years, until she got married and moved out, and it was just the two of you. But even in all the years since, you’ve never had your own bathroom until now.
You shower as long as you want, whenever you want. Your room is in a completely different hallway than the master, where Blake and your mom sleep. You blast music at night, singing along off-tune from the bathroom, and would stay on the phone for hours with your friends. If anyone answered your calls anymore.
It’s been three weeks since you broke the news to everyone that you were moving. Two weeks since you actually moved. One week since Rafe walked you around the country club and drove you back home, like you belonged to him. In that time, you’ve driven down to the Chateau twice, walked by Kie’s house, which is now just a few blocks away, and texted multiple times—all with no responses. At first you panic, thinking something’s happened, but then you realize this was what always happened. When you’re off on an adventure, you don’t think about who’s waiting for you back at home.
That’s what’s running through your mind when you run into Rafe again that day.
You had showered without interruption, taking your time doing your hair up just because you felt like it. There was no work to be done, no chores assigned to you anymore. Breakfast was always prepared when you went downstairs, so you took your time getting ready now.
You missed a lot of things about your old life, but the limited time and constant rushing and anxiety were not among them.
Your clothes were picked out with the anticipation of seeing your best friends again, your favorite overalls from the thrift store—which had been bought when you were still two sizes too small for them, and had been baggy on you until last year, but they were such a steal your mother refused to let you put them back—and a yellow shirt to match your ratty, yellow converse. They had been washed so many times they were more brown than yellow, but it didn’t matter much.
This outfit was the old you, and it brought up feelings inside you that nothing in figure eight could change. You wore it because you wouldn’t look any different to your friends in this outfit, and for maybe a few hours, you wouldn’t be the girl in the fancy house with the country club membership anymore.
“You look nice, sweetie,” your mom says, when you head downstairs. She’s drinking her coffee at the table, your step-dad nowhere to be found. It’s eleven in the morning and she’s just woken up too, in her robe and slippers, and you smile, watching her more relaxed than you’ve seen in years.
You swing by her side of the table to give her a kiss, and steal a piece of toast from her plate. You’re relieved she doesn’t mention your clothes, not when she keeps offering to take you shopping with Blake’s money, which you keep refusing, but is getting more tempting every time you step in a puddle in these shoes.
“Thanks mom, I’m going to see the boys and Kie, I’ll be back later, don’t wait up!” and with that you’re gone, before you can discern the disapproving look in her eyes.
Your junky old car, older than you by several years and still somehow the nicest thing you own—used to own, a voice chirps in the back of your head—is hidden around several fancy cars in the driveway. It’s intentional, you’re sure, and likely your mother’s doing. Nothing embarrassed her more than you handing out constant reminders of your old life to everyone around you.
And then you’re on the way to the Chateau, windows down and no music, since there was no way to connect your phone and the radio was busted by Pope a year ago, who claims he was trying to fix it.
But it’s what happens when you get there that embarasses you the most—no one’s there, and no one will answer your call. You wait around for a half hour, trying to see if they come back, but they don’t.
And that’s when it hits you. They were off on their adventures, and you weren’t just down the street anymore, which meant you weren’t invited. You get back in your car and slam the door, humiliated, tears falling down your face and probably ruining the makeup you had done, stupidly, this morning, because you wanted to look nice for them, like your old self for them. You don’t realize until later, after you were done crying, and seen Rafe again, that your friends didn’t want to bother you while you were adjusting to your new life.
You feel betrayed, and the words that John had told you rattle through your head, because he was wrong. Everything had changed, and nothing would be the same.
You take off, heading back home. There’s a big storm brewing and your Accord gets dramatic in the rain. It’s not until you cross the border back into figure eight that you realize two things. One, that you had just thought of your new house as home for the first time. And two, that you had never felt more alone.
There’s not much to do about either of these feelings, besides stopping for the biggest bowl of ice cream you can reasonably carry back home, and eating it in your room, crying and watching You’ve Got Mail for the hundredth time.
So that’s what you do, pulling into the ice cream shop closest to home. Your car also doesn’t have the greatest functioning air conditioner, and you don’t need any more questionable stains in your seats, considering how many times JJ had borrowed it and returned it, promising you it’s nothing and that that spot in the back seat was always there!
In line, tapping your foot, calling your mom’s cell. Your eyes are puffy and your nose is red from crying. She’s not answering, but the unspoken rule of your little family is to always, always call when you’re getting ice cream in case the other wants something. You’ve only been gone something like two hours, and you can’t imagine what she’s doing that she can’t answer your phone. You dial Blake’s number, hoping he answers instead, and while it’s ringing you realize it’s your turn to order. You haven’t even looked at the menu yet.
You turn to the people behind you, telling them they can go in front, but when you look up from your phone, you almost drop it.
Of course it’s Rafe Cameron behind you. Of course. Who else would it be? Who else would keep catching you at your lowest moments? He’s with a little girl, who can’t be older than four or five, with dark hair and glasses, holding his hand patiently while staring up at you, while you stare at him and he stares back.
“Rafe, she said we can go in front,” she says, tugging on the hand she’s holding.
“Yeah, Wheeze, I heard. Let’s go order and then thank this nice girl for letting us go ahead, right?” The little girl nods, and follows him up to order. Rafe looks back at you but then your step-dad answers, so you turn away, cheeks heating up. You don’t want him to see.
“Hi, what’s going on?” you hear his voice through the phone, sort of staticky and jumbled.
“Hi, Blake, I just wanted to ask if you and mom wanted ice cream? I’m at the place… yeah, the one near the house.”
“Oh, yes, let me ask her, one second-” You hear him put the phone down, or cover the mic, and then, “Honey! Kiddo’s asking if you want ice cream.”
You feel yourself soften a little bit at the nickname. And then you hear your mom and Blake talking back and forth, for what feels like ages. The girl behind the counter looks at you with a glare and you try to look back at her with an apologetic smile, but you’re a little fed-up from the emotional turmoil you’ve just endured.
“Hi, sweetie, I’m okay, I had some at the club with lunch and twice in a day is just not a good idea-”
“Just get it, who cares? We can have it later tonight too-”
“What if the power goes out? It’ll melt, and then it’s just a waste of money-” Crap. You hadn’t thought of that.
“We have generators for that.” Blake picks up the phone again. “Hey, kiddo, get your mom her usual and make sure you use the card I gave you, okay?”
You hang up the phone, smiling, and then order. It feels weird, being oddly comforted by someone other than your mom or your friends for once. In your distraction, you don’t see Rafe and the little girl hovering near the freezer window that showcases all the ice cream they offer. When you’re reaching for the shiny black Amex, you hear him again.
“I got it, kid,” Rafe says, pressing his matching card against the reader and pushing your wrist down and away. He does it so easily, without trying, just like he did in the country club. You look up at him stupidly, brain not registering what he just did and why he did it, and you don’t move for a moment. You don’t move until he leans down a little, close enough to smell that enticing cologne again but not nearly close enough.
“I think the words you’re looking for are ‘thank you’. And you should probably get out of the way.” You blink back up at him, and he’s smirking again. You feel kind of stupid, the way he’s talking to you, but you also don’t mind as much as you thought you would. The girl behind the counter yells out Next! and that’s when Rafe takes you by the arm, just above where he had bruised you, and moves you away himself.
“You okay, kid?” he asks, and you feel yourself melt like ice cream left in your car for too long. You don’t know if he really means it, or if he really cares, but you do know Rafe Cameron needs to stop talking to you like he likes you, or you’re going to be in trouble.
“Fine, yeah. Thanks, uh, thanks for the ice cream.” You’re still blinking slowly, stupidly, stuck in a daze. You should really get it together around him. It’s a little pathetic if a strong grip and a couple of nice actions gets you acting like this. That’s a problem for another day right now.
“Is she okay, Rafe?” the little girl asks quietly from beside him.
“No idea, Wheezie. Why don’t you sit and eat your ice cream?” he replies, and she sits down a few tables away, beginning to shovel chocolate ice cream with a tiny wooden spoon.
“Hey,” he says, and you begin to snap out of it. It’s raining outside now. You hear the pitter-patter of the drops on the roof. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, yes. I am. I just had a bad morning. Sorry.” But you don’t know what you’re apologizing for.
“Well, are you gonna talk about it and shit? ‘Cause I don’t know you that well yet but you’re kinda freaking me out right now.”
“I-I…I just-”
“You, you, you just?” he mocks, and then when tears fill your pretty eyes and he sees one slip down your face, his own eyes panic briefly. “Hey, hey, I was just joking, kid-” He pulls out a colorful chair for you, and sits you down next to Wheezie, who is still eating ice cream at an alarming rate. Your ice cream is ready at the counter, and he brings it down next to you, holding his own strawberry cone in his hand.
“Hold this for me Wheeze,” he says, not really asking, and the little girl shakes her head right away.
“How’m I gonna eat mine then?”
“Wheezie,” Rafe says, in a voice that you haven’t heard him use before—and then you realize how stupid you sound. You’ve talked with him twice, you don’t know anything about the voices he uses or how he sounds when he’s talking to this girl who can only be his little sister.
“Can I have some?” Wheezie propositions back, and Rafe nods. “Okay!” she says, taking a bite of the scoop with her front teeth.
“So, y’gonna tell me what’s going on or am I gonna have to guess everything?”
“My friends, I just keep missing them, or they keep missing me, maybe. I just wanted to see them. It’s really lonely here, that’s all.” You’re staring into his eyes, his really, really blue eyes that are currently a little alarmed and concerned, and the fact that they’re that way for you is making you a little dizzy.
“Yeah, I get that. Sorry, kid, that’s the lay of the land, right? Not a Pogue anymore, are you?”
“I don’t know what I am.” You feel silly and embarrassed for pouring your heart out over ice cream with Rafe Cameron. He doesn’t know you, and he never will.
“Well, right now you have a choice. You can sit here and eat ice cream with us, or you can go home and cry about it alone. But if you choose the second one, Richards and Anna will see you, or hear you, and ask about it. And I’m not gonna keep asking if you don’t wanna talk. So pick one before this shi-stuff melts, okay?”
You nod dumbly again. You’d like to turn your brain off and let Rafe decide for you.
“I need a spoon.” He smiles, not smirks, for a second, before getting up to get you a spoon.
A few things float through your mind while you eat ice cream with the Camerons. First, Rafe remembers your mom’s name. Second, Rafe doesn’t swear in front of his kid sister. And third, and most important of all, Rafe Cameron cares about you.
“That’s a lot of ice cream,” Wheeze, or rather—as you’ve just learned—Wheezie, comments.
“I was feeling really sad,” you reply, shoving another spoonful into your mouth, watching the little girl eye your peanut and chocolate ice cream inquisitively. “You’ll understand someday.”
“Boy problems?” she asks, and you can’t help but crack a smile. Rafe looks up from his phone momentarily
“Not really, but a good guess. This would also apply to that situation.”
“My sister’s always got boy problems.”
“Really?” you ask, and then look up Rafe. “You have another sister?”
“Yes,” he says, in between licks of strawberry ice cream. You should really look away when he does that, because your heart rate is picking up. “And she’s even more annoying than this one.”
You laugh while Wheezie frowns.
“If I’m so annoying, why do you always take me for ice cream, huh?”
“She’s got you there, Rafe,” and you resist the urge to look at him, even when you can feel his eyes on you.
“Because you wouldn’t stop asking, dork, that’s why.” Wheezie shrugs in reply.
“I’m not gonna finish all of this. You want some, Wheezie?” you ask, offering her your spoon. She looks back at you smiling, and then at Rafe for permission, who nods.
She digs into the pile left, while you finally give into the urge to look up at her brother again. He takes another lick of his ice cream and you look away within a second.
“Been eating that for a while, haven’t you, Rafe?”
“Yeah.”
Somewhere in between Wheezie eating so much of the ice cream so quickly that she gets a brain freeze, and Rafe finally tossing his half-eaten cone into the trash, it’s time to go home. And as much as you hate to admit it, you don’t want to leave. The rain is coming down hard outside, a preview of the impending hurricane.
“Drive here, kid?” he asks, as your feet hesitate by the door.
“No,” Wheezie answers, “I came here with you, dork.”
“Not talking to you, kid,” he replies, rustling the top of her hair with his hand, getting an ugh, Rafe, in response.
“Yeah. Yes, I drove here. But my car doesn’t do so good in the rain.”
“Huh?” he questions.
“It’s old, okay. Junky. The AC is broken. And the radio. Sometimes she just stops, y’know?” You gesture to your blue car parked out front, the rusty, tiny sedan two spots down from his shiny truck.
“No, I don’t know. Richards lets you drive around in that thing?”
“She.”
“It’s a car. Barely, at that.”
“She has a name, okay. HoHo. That’s her name.”
“Alright, well, you’re gonna have to ditch the hoe, because I can’t let you drive home in a hurricane in… that.” You turn to glare at him. “Her, sorry.”
That’s how you end up soaking wet in the passenger seat of Rafe’s truck, Wheezie secured in her booster seat and Rafe even wetter than you are. He drops you home and says the two of you can go pick up your car tomorrow—if it’s still there, he adds at the end, leaning over you again to open your door. You stare at him dumbly again, which has now become a bad habit, and it’s not until Wheezie says you’re getting her wet in the back that you finally climb out and close the door. You stand behind the front door with your mom’s melted ice cream in one hand, and your phone with Rafe’s contact saved in the other, wondering what exactly just happened.
౨ৎ
The next few weeks pass through as quickly as they came. Your car—to your chagrin and your mother’s joy—does not survive the hurricane. Blake gives you a fancy, luxury car to drive around in that he just had laying around, which you don’t believe for one second. But, your mom is pleased when you actually start driving it, and you can actually listen to music from your phone and enjoy air conditioning and the most luxurious of luxuries—a backup camera.
The night of the ice cream shop incident, Rafe texts you. You were completely ready to wallow in bed, waiting for the text from him that never comes, drowning your sorrow in more ice cream, but he does text you. First and right away.
R: Is it wrong if I hope hoho drowns tonight?
that’s so mean. she never did anything to you.
R: She’s kinda ugly. And what was that about no ac?
so she deserves death????
R: The impound lot at the very least
if she dies, it’ll be because YOU manifested it
R: Never thought I’d believe in that manifesting shit, but here we are
did Wheezie eat dinner after how much ice cream you let her inhale?
R: No.
R: Ur fault. You gave her yours
you gave her yours too
and btw, I offered her a bite. she ate the rest. not my fault
R: She’s five, genius
R: I’ll come around noon tomorrow. Sleep tight kid
౨ৎ
Somewhere in between picking up your car—which entailed no less than stopping for lunch, even more ice cream that you can’t stand to watch him eat, and driving through town to see how bad the damage from hurricane Agatha was, and altogether three hours together ending with a wet, heated kiss in his truck with the windows fogged up—and today, you’ve been with Rafe more times than you can count.
And you try hard to suppress the thought that it’s just because he’s available, that the availability is the reason for your attraction. And then you catch yourself trying to justify why you want to see Rafe so much, this guy that you had just been assuming was bad because your friends told you he was bad, without much in the way of an explanation.
But Rafe is the furthest thing from bad. He’s so sweet to you it makes you delirious. He picks you up all the time, even when you tell him you’re just at home, and your car is right there. He pays for everything, he opens every door, the gentle but teasing way he is with Wheezie makes you even more head over heels.
But most important of all, he calls you first. He texts you first. He makes you feel wanted, and you definitely, definitely, want him, so you don’t think twice before saying yes to accompanying him to Midsummers.
You actually don’t know what it really is, besides for a big party. It was always one of the worst nights at the hospital—litters of teens with alcohol poisoning and from car accidents— so your mom would be working. When you turned eighteen, your mom paid for classes to become a junior nurse, and so busy nights like the one of Midsummers usually was, you would get called in too. So before this week, you’d never spent Midsummers doing anything other than cleaning wounds and fetching suture kits.
You tell Rafe this and he looks at you strangely, another of his looks you hadn’t seen before, with furrowed brows, and you flush and apologize, regretting even opening your mouth.
You know you’re deeper than you thought when he takes your head between his hands and kisses you—messy, with tongue and spit left glimmering over your mouth, so much so that he wipes the corner of your mouth with his thumb when he’s done.
“Go get yourself a pretty dress, and we’ll have fun, yeah?” You nod stupidly again, the way you’re prone to doing around him. He must have realized you get a kick out being told what to do by him, what to worry about and what to focus on.
You finally take your mom up on the offer to go shopping. Her and your step-dad are going to this thing anyways, but you can tell she wasn’t completely sure you’d go to something so Kook-y, maybe not just yet, and she doesn’t want to push it since your mood finally seems to have picked up. But then you tell her Rafe asked you to go with him, and the two of you smile and jump around the living room, laughing like kids. She’s happy for you and you’re happy that the two of you are happy at the same time.
Rafe sends you money for a dress—enough money to pay for a month’s rent at your old place. Your mom says your step-dad insists on paying. You feel like things are coming together for the first time.
You wander the stores, trying on different dresses and feeling like a scene out of a movie until you finally find the perfect blue dress. Blue for Rafe’s eyes and his suit jacket, because you’re not embarrassed to admit to him that you want to match for Midsummers. It’s patterned with little flowers, ruffles and lace moving in the wind when you twirl, and for once, you stop feeling like you need to pick a side to be on—Pogue or Kook—and you decide just to be Rafe’s for now.
The night of the party, Rafe offers to pick you up, but you tell him you’ll come with your parents. They’re both wearing shades of peach and salmon, the three of you together look like you’re headed to a baby shower, which you and your mom laugh about in the car ride there.
You text Rafe to let him know you’re there, and tell your parents you’re going to walk around to find him. When you glance back, they’re talking with some of Blake’s friends, people he had invited to the wedding.
You see, what you can only think, is a glimpse of Pope, in his usual waiter get up, but he disappears before you can see where he was. His father is still there, though, and you make your way through the crowd to get near him.
“Hi, Mr. Heyward,” you say, smiling and unsure if he’ll recognize you. You don’t think he’s ever seen you in anything but your overalls or scrubs.
“How can I help yo-wait, is that you, well I’ll be damned. You’re blending right in, aren’t ya?”
“Well, it took long enough.” You suddenly feel embarrassed, because he knows the old you, the one who wouldn’t be here in a million years. “Do you know where Pope is? I thought I saw him, I just wanted to say hi.”
“He just went off that way, but if you see him, tell him I still need his help over here, just like I did before he walked away—”
“Can I help with anything?” you ask quickly, but he shakes his head and tells you the direction Pope went in.
You follow it generally, trying to see where he could have gone in such a short time. But then you see all of them, and you can’t stop your feet from running over. Kie, JJ, and Pope, all standing and talking about something, but you don’t really care about interrupting. Kie’s all dressed up too, and you suddenly don’t feel so embarrassed.
“You guys,” you feel yourself gushing. “It’s been so long,” and you go in for a hug with each of them.
“Wow, god, you look so pretty,” Kie says, and you hug her again. You don’t realize how much you missed her.
“You too, Kie,” your smile is so wide it starts to hurt. “Isn’t this so weird, all of us here at this party? Where’s John B?” you ask, looking around.
“So weird,” JJ says, and you notice the bruise around his right eye because he’s turning to look at Kie again.
“JJ, what the hell happened to your face?” JJ doesn’t answer, he actually doesn’t say anything at all, which should have been your first sign that something was wrong. You look at him quizzically, before turning to Pope.
“Pope, your dad’s looking for you, I just went over to say hi-”
“Oh crap,” he says, heading back in the direction you just came from. “Sorry, be right back.”
“W-what the hell is going on?” you question Kie and JJ, searching for any answer, desperately hoping that it isn’t we don’t wanna tell you. Your phone goes off, twice, and you pick it up. The look on your face must have been beyond palpable to your friends.
R🧸ྀི: Come inside the house
R🧸ྀི: Got a surprise for you
“I-I gotta go inside,” you say, looking at the confused faces of your friends.
“What’s inside? I thought-”
“No, nothing, I don’t know, Rafe just asked me to go inside, and I haven’t even seen him yet-”
“Rafe? What, Rafe Cameron?”
“Y-yeah?”
“What are you, with him, or something?” JJ asks, and you feel your heart fall into your stomach.
“I-I yeah, maybe. I’m here with him tonight, he-” Your phone goes off again. “I’m sorry, I have to go find him, but I’ll come find you guys right after, okay?”
You leave the two of them there, looking at each other confused, looking at you like they don’t recognize you. And it stings, for a moment, until you get inside the mansion and find Rafe hanging out by the entrance, nursing a glass of scotch and eyes lighting up when they see you.
Everything with him is like that scene from that movie. Lights go dim, you walk in slow-motion, the room goes quiet. He watches you walk up to him and his eyes take in everything—your pretty hair, your dolled up face, the way your dress moves when you walk, and most of all, that you’re here with him. He reaches his hand out to grab you by the waist to bring you in for a kiss. It’s not like the others, it’s chaste and soft and romantic.
“Hi,” you breathe out, resting your forehead against his.
“Hi, kid. You look fantastic,” and he presses another sweet kiss to your temple.
“We’re matching,” you say with a smile, taking in his blue suit jacket and the way you feel dizzy right now, and you feel his grip tighten around your waist.
“Yeah, we are. Now get in line with me, we’re walking out together.” Your eyes are big like coins, because you understood that you were coming here together, but this is his family’s big night, if everything your mom and Blake told you was to be taken seriously.
You don’t have time to say anything, because Rafe’s nice parents line up ahead of you, and his two sisters behind you. Wheezie tugs on your dress and you turn to greet her and Sarah quickly, because then the doors open and you’re walking out, following Rafe’s lead, lots and lots of eyes on you, but only one pair of blue ones you really care about.
You almost want to cry, the whole thing is so magical. You have a flute of champagne and a sip of Rafe’s scotch, and you are deliciously tipsy for the next two hours. Your parents come over to talk to you and Rafe, and you can see how happy your mom is in her eyes. You and Rafe dance until your feet hurt, and it’s only then, when he leaves your sight, that things seem to get back down to how they normally are.
You can’t find Wheezie’s parents or Sarah anywhere. The little girl spilled ice cream on her dress and is crying quietly, fat tears rolling down her chubby cheeks. You want to get her parents, because you think they can help, but you end up taking her to the bathroom yourself. With a damp paper towel, you wipe as much as you can, and you promise to get her another ice cream if she stops crying.
“It’s just a stain, honey, don’t worry.” You toss the dirty tissue and grab another one, wiping the tears and then letting her blow her nose. “It’ll come out when you wash it. And no one will notice because it’s so dark now, right?” She nods in agreement. “Do you wanna go find your big brother?” Another sad nod. “Let’s go honey,” and you take her hand and lead her back out.
You’re not entirely sure what you missed in the last fifteen minutes. Everyone’s gone quiet, staring at what you hope is a trick of your eyes—all of your friends running from the party, hooting and hollering. Kiara’s parents look hopelessly upset, Mr. Heyward downright disappointed, and your mom scanning the crowd, trying to see where you are, until she spots you and Wheezie.
Her and Mrs. Cameron come running over, and you instinctively flinch, thinking the giant headpiece she’s wearing will poke you. You hand off Wheezie and turn to look at your friends, and you think, for a second, they’re waiting for you. They are, you realize slowly, waiting for you.
And you almost take off right then and there, until you feel Rafe’s warm hand on your shoulder, and you look up to see him bleeding.
At that moment, you turn right back around and head inside to the nearest room, sitting Rafe down on the bed and scrambling to find something to clean his wound with, and something cold to help the swelling, and in your panic, you don’t realize you’re rambling.
“I mean, what the hell was all of that? I turn around for two seconds and everyone’s running from the party like there’s a fire, and destroying things and throwing punches, I mean, I get they hate the whole Kook thing, but it was never like this before, even when I didn’t know you yet, and I-” you drop the frozen bag of peas onto the floor in your sudden realization. “I just let them leave. They waited for me. I didn’t go with them.” Your eyes fill with years. That’s a betrayal, not all the stupid stuff you thought was happening before tonight. They waited for you, and you turned right back around to go inside with Rafe.
“Hey, hey hey,” Rafe says quietly, taking your head in his hands again. “Hey, it’s gonna be okay.”
“You’re bleeding, Rafe,” you say, voice trembling. Your tears are ruining your makeup.
“I’m gonna be fine. You know why?” he asks, and you feel more tears rush down. “Hey, hey, no crying.” Rafe wipes away the tears with his hand, then he brings his hands to your back and rubs soothingly. “You know why, kid?”
“Why?” it comes out a whisper.
“Because you chose me. We’re gonna be fine, okay?”
The way he says it you believe him.
You spend the next two days at Tannyhill with Rafe, wearing nothing but his t-shirts and doing nothing but rolling around in bed. It’s been a month, maybe a little bit more, and you haven’t even had the talk yet—the sex talk. There’s no doubt in your mind that he’s not ready for it, but you’re not ready for it, not yet. You’re working on it. He doesn’t make it easy for you, either. You’ve spent hours now, making out in his lap, grinding against each other until you make a mess all over his shorts and his hair is sticking up in every direction, and working your way up to telling him what you want.
You’re almost there. You’re waiting for the perfect time. Which was almost right now.
“You like that? Shit-” he breathes into your ear, pressing a kiss to the tender skin of your neck right underneath. It makes you moan again, louder, until he clamps a hand—the one not three fingers deep inside your leaking pussy—over your mouth, barricading the noise from leaving. “Gotta be quiet, kid, you want the whole house hearin’ what a little slut you are?”
His blue eyes, lustful and blown, stare into your own. You shake your head softly underneath the tight grip of his palm. You’re always obedient with him, but he really likes you like this.
“Yeah? You gonna do whatever daddy tells you? Just so I keep my fingers in this tight pussy?” You nod compliantly, head falling back on to the pillow. His fingers are thick, and the cool of his ring rubs against your clit in the best way, in ways you didn’t even realize it could feel.
He keeps fucking three fingers in and out of you, moans muffled by his hand but not completely silenced. You must be making a mess, because it’s what he keeps talking about, rambling about your messy cunt, greedy and sucking him in, and how you’ve been cumming for him like a little princess for the last two days, but it’s never enough for you.
It’s when he removes his hand and kisses you hard instead, tongue deep inside you mouth, the metal of his chain dangling on your chin, and you feel the similarly cool metal of his ring on you, you finish again, exploding around your boyfriend’s fingers and moaning into his mouth. He hears you, repeating his name over and over again, not Rafe, but rather daddy, and he swallows your chants into his mouth. When you calm down, he makes a show of licking his fingers off while locking eyes, and then you get flustered and bury your head into his neck.
He laughs, because it’s so cute, but only for a minute. Then you two shower together and he makes another show, but this time out of you, kneeling on the floor of his tub while he paints your face with his cum, making sure to cover the necklace you’ve been wearing recently too, the silver, loopy little R hanging between your collarbone.
Then you get dressed—a little pink dress that’s been his favorite recently, with buttons down the front and a pretty bow where your tits sit— and the two of you have lunch with his family like nothing ever happened.
Rafe drops you back at home later that day, gives you a kiss where he grabs the back of your head to bring you in, and then waves bye to your parents as he unlatches the door for you, in his usual way.
౨ৎ
A week later, he does the same thing. Drops you off, drives away once you’re inside, and you’re starstruck walking back, so much so, you don’t realize there’s someone waiting for you.
It’s Kie, and Rafe’s sister, Sarah. You’re a little confused since you thought the two of them didn’t get
along, but they look like they’re fine now.
“Hey, listen, we need you to help us. Can you come down to the Chateau later tonight, after sunset?” Kie asks, and you must look as confused as you feel, because Sarah speaks right away, before you can get a word out.
“You cannot tell my brother. Promise us you won’t.”
“Why are you asking me that? Why can’t I tell him?” Sarah and Kie exchange a look, and it’s clear to you that you are missing several pieces of the puzzle. “Guys! Come on, you-you can’t expect me to just be on board with lying to my boyfriend and showing up to help you guys without knowing what it even is, right? What’s going on?”
“We will explain everything, just please promise us that you’ll come,” Kie implores and you nod hesitantly.
“And you won’t tell Rafe?” Sarah asks again.
“Come on. Pogues for life, right?” Kie says, and you get a flashback to your life two months
ago—doing anything for your friends and dreaming of how you’d end up with one of the boys someday. It all seems like a million years ago.
“Yes, yeah, yeah, I’ll be there. I won’t tell him.”
You guess that God was on your side today.
R🧸ྀི: Hey kid. Busy with my dad today. Dinner tomorrow okay?
sounds perfect!! don’t work too hard! i'm gonna watch a movie with my mom and blake and stay in tn
R🧸ྀི: You got mail again?
you know me so well
R🧸ྀི: Have fun princess.
You set down your phone on your dresser, feeling like you could throw up your dinner. It’s just starting to get dark outside, and you’ve just lied to Rafe for the first time since you’ve met him. It feels terrible, like something’s gnawing inside you, begging you to come clean and confess, or not to go out at all. You think about it for a moment, maybe if he knows you’re with some of your old friends, it won’t be like a real lie.
Then you remember your old friends are the ones who punched him. You tell your mom you’re going to Rafe’s, and then you get in your fancy car that Rafe helped you christen the other day—in the backseat, specifically—and drive to your old life.
You park next to the Twinkie and get out, stepping into a slush of mud. Your shoes are new, and were clean, and you cringe internally at how much you started caring about these things. You don’t want Rafe to see you with dirty shoes.
The boys and Kie are sitting on the logs near the fire pit. Sarah is sitting right next to John B, looking at him how you look at Rafe, and then you realize the magnitude of just how much you’ve missed.
“Hey,” Kie says, looking up first, smiling. “You came.”
“Yeah.” You’re at a loss for words. Everyone looks the same. Everything feels so different.
A part of you wants to sink down between Pope and JJ, crack a beer, and laugh at jokes you think you would still understand. Another part wants to get into the fancy car and drive to Tannyhill. You opt for neither, standing a few yards away and letting the light from the fire cast its hazy glow over you and all your old friends.
“Did you tell him?” Sarah asks. She means it well, not in a rude way, but that’s how you feel.
“No, no, I didn’t. He, he thinks I’m at home. With my mom and Blake.”
“Alright,” JJ says, tossing his empty beer can. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
“Listen,” John B says, getting up and sounding too sincere for your liking. “We all appreciate you coming. Because we need a favor from you, and it might not be easy.”
“I mean, I think it’s gonna be pretty easy. Unless Rafe is like, really, really crazy, like even crazier than we already know he is-” JJ says, but stops when Kie and Pope shake their heads. “What? She knows, she’s the one dating him.”
“Know what? I don’t even know what you want from me-”
“We need a distraction. For Rafe, okay?” John B starts.
“An hour, okay, that’s all we need, right guys?” Sarah asks, looking back at everyone. They nod, trying to convince you, except Jayj.
“Well, like, maybe a couple of hours. If he’s up to that, y’know, I don’t wanna assume shit ‘bout stamina and all that-”
“JJ,” Pope says, shoving the blond’s arm. “You’re not helping.”
“What?” you breathe out, even more confused than before. You start to get what they’re asking, you just don’t want to admit it.
“We need to distract Rafe, for an hour, or like two hours, and we figured you’re our best bet.” John B says, and you look at them with your mouth falling open a little.
“You want me to…sleep with my boyfriend, to distract him, so you guys can do something that you won’t tell me about?”
“Kind of, yeah. Pretty much.”
“And is, is this thing going to hurt him in the long run? Is he going to be upset? When he finds out what happened?”
“My Kook feelings radar is a little off, right now, but who knows, I mean hell, he might not ever find out,” JJ says, and you want to sit down, because your knees feel weak, but the ground is muddy and the logs are occupied. “If we do our job right, he won’t know for a long, long time, right guys?” A chorus of right, right rings around the fire.
“And you’re not gonna tell me what this is about at all?”
“Well, it might not be a good idea. Because, you’re dating him, and listen, we just need like an hour, and he never has to know you were a part of this, okay? I will never tell him, none of us will,” Sarah says, and you do believe her. But you can’t believe that they’re asking you to do this.
“And if he finds out, and he breaks up with me, then what?”
“Yeah, I, uh, knew this was a bad idea. She’s not gonna do it, guys, so let’s just reformulate-”
“Oh, you knew I was gonna say no, JJ? Lying to my boyfriend? For the people who hurt him?”
“He hurt us too, y’know,” Pope says, and you feel your heart begin to race.
“No, I don’t know, because no one tells me anything! No one answers their phone and no one’s here when I drive down. Kie, you live two streets away from me now. The first time I saw you all month was at Midsummers and then, today. Asking me to come here to lie to Rafe, to sleep with him to distract him.”
“No, no, we shouldn’t have asked you, because I knew you would say no, I told them-” and you can’t believe the words coming from your friend's mouth. “Look at you, you went total Kook on us.”
And then you feel like they’re taking it all in. The R around your neck, the jewelry that sparkles in the light of the fire, all yellow citrine, for Rafe’s birth month. The pink dress that’s his favorite—you put it on this morning in case you ended up back at Tannyhill tonight. And worst of all, his white button up hanging from your shoulders, smelling like ocean and sandalwood and Rafe Cameron.
“It’s like you belong to him now.” You feel a tear sliding down, but you wipe it away.
“Maybe that’s because he was actually there for me, when I needed it. And I get it, maybe I should have tried harder. But you guys should have too.”
The group of you stand there in silence for a moment. Your phone goes off. You know it’s Rafe. They know it is too. It starts with Kie, and then a course of apologies from everyone. John B wipes away your tears like nothing has changed. JJ scratches his head, and then hugs you tighter than he ever has before. Pope tells you how much he’s missed you, how he had to start bandaging wounds in your absence.
“I’ll distract him. An hour, that’s all you get. I’m not sleeping with him because you guys want me to, okay? So if he leaves, he leaves.”
You take off for Tannyhill, leaving your old life behind and risking your new one all at once.
౨ৎ
Rafe’s phone goes off again, and he lets out a short, tight breath.
Princess: are you still busy at home? i need you
Princess: please rafey
“I’ll be back,” he tells Ward, and before he can even respond, he’s out of the room, calling you. The line rings twice, and then you answer.
“Rafey?” you sound quiet, like you’ve been crying.
“Hey, hey kid. What’s going on? I told you I was working tonight,” and then he runs a hand through his hair, because he knows he’s fucked, if you’re crying and you need him, then he’s going.
“I know, Rafe, I just really need you, I had a really bad night-”
“Woah, wait, I thought you were just with your parents?”
“I was, it just got really bad, I-I’m outside Tannyhill because I had to leave, and then I got lost and I was scared so I just came straight here.”
“Lost? Jeez, kid, it’s, like, down the street.”
“But I didn’t wanna bother you, ‘cause you were busy-” and then he hears a hiccup, and then a sob.
“Okay, okay, stay there, I’m gonna come get you,” and he hangs up the call. He darts outside, spotting your navy car and you inside, still in the same clothes from this morning, just wearing his shirt over it, like a jacket. He gets close and you climb out of the car yourself, jumping into his arms and burying your face into his neck, like you always do when you get like this. He can feel the way your body shakes under his arms, the wetness of your tears on his black polo.
“Okay, it’s okay now, come on, let’s go inside.” You make it up the stairs to his bedroom, when Rafe guides you inside and pulls his blinds, so no one peeks inside.
He sits you up on the edge of his bed, squatting before you, hands in yours, arms resting on your knees.
“You gonna tell me what happened?” You shake your head, another tear falling. You wish you could say you were pretending, but the tears find their own way when you think about the encounter you just had. You’re lying when you tell him it’s between you and your parents, but his reaction makes you regret it instantly. “Did they say somethin’ to you? Did they try something? I’ll go over there and sort it all out, okay, kid, don’t worry about a thing.” He stands up, running another hand through his messy hair, letting it fall in the moppy way it always does, over his forehead. “Stay here, okay, princess, I’ll be back.”
Then you realize he’s gonna go over there and talk to your perfectly happy, clueless parents, so you stand up and turn him back around.
“No, no, Rafe, don’t leave,” and then you melt into a hug, taking in everything about it. Rafe rests his chin on the top of your head, his arms tight around your back. He smells so good, and the way he’s taking care of you makes you realize a couple things. “Will you just…make me forget?”
Your boyfriend looks down at you, and you don’t shy away from his gaze like you often, when you get flustered.
“Make you forget?” he questions.
“I just don’t wanna think about anything else,” you start, undoing the bow of your dress, more cleavage revealing itself. “I just wanna think about you,” and then your fingers undo the buttons trailing down the front of your dress. It falls off your shoulders, and you stand before him, naked, certainly not for the first time but what feels like the most intimate it’s ever been.
There’s a pretty lingerie set hidden in the back of your closet, what you had actually put aside for this moment, but you had no time to run home and get it, so you opted for the next best thing, taking your bra and panties off in the car ride here, shoving them into your purse, and hoping that Rafe was as tempted as you were.
“Just about me?” he questions, and you take his hand into yours, leaning in to press a soft kiss against his lips.
“Just you, Rafe. I’m ready, Rafey, I want you to fuck me,” and it seems like that’s all it takes. Rafe crushes his lips against yours, kissing you how he always does, tongue in your mouth and spit everywhere. He holds you by the back of your head and your hands run through his hair. You want him closer, even closer than he already is, than he possibly could be.
His hands leave your head and go down to your ass, grabbing both cheeks roughly and wrapping your legs around his waist. He drops you on his bed, head hitting the pillow, and you pull away for a second, to catch your breath. Rafe doesn’t let it happen, gripping your cheeks between his hand and bringing you back in for another kiss. You’re naked, and he’s still completely dressed, but you don’t miss the obvious way his hardened dick presses against your bare cunt.
You can’t breathe, and all your senses are overpowered by Rafe, but you also don’t really care. You keep kissing, moaning into each other’s mouths and gripping hair and skin that’s sure to leave a bruise tomorrow, until you feel him finally pull away for a second. You catch your breath, open-mouthed and heaving, eyes locked.
“‘M only gonna ask this once, kid,” he breathes, leaving another hot kiss on your neck, which makes you spread your legs further open with instinct. “Y’sure you want this? ‘Cause there’s no going back.”
You nod in that way you always have with him, telling him everything with no words at all.
“That’s my girl,” he breathes against your neck, and you feel him bite down into the soft skin of the flesh there. You yell out, but it turns into a moan when Rafe licks his tongue over the wound. “That’s just so you can remember this night, okay baby?” You look back up at him, wet eyes, swollen lips, and flushed, sweaty skin.
“Thank you, daddy.” He smiles, because you’re in for it now.
“You’re welcome, kid. Shit,” he breathes out, “I knew you’d like it, little freak.” He starts with more hot kisses, all the way down your neck, down your sternum, and stopping to press a kiss to each side of your ribs, before continuing down to your stomach. You whine from your position below him, one huge hand holding your hip in place and the other tracing the pattern of the kisses down, until he finally reaches where you want him to be.
“Gotta be quiet, kid, everyone’s home. You gonna let them all hear how much of a whore you are for me? Huh?” he mocks, and you shake your head fervently. “Good girl. You’re being so good, you’re gonna get a treat, okay?” You nod stupidly.
His breath catches for a second, when he gets down to your glistening cunt. He looks up at you from his position there, your chest heaving, tits bouncing with how much you’re squirming, how much you want him to do something. He moves his hands, one resting on your breast, pinching the nipple with his finger, and the other running a line down your pussy. Your whole body twitches up when he runs the metal of his ring over your clit, because he knows you really like it.
“Rafe, please,” you cry, sounding stupid and fucked out, even though he hasn’t started yet. “Please, please,” and your hips jerk up. He pushes them down.
“Be patient, kid. Gotta admire this virgin pussy for the last time before I ruin it, ‘kay?” You feel your walls tighten at his words, and you hope he missed the way everything just clenched, but it’s Rafe, and he didn’t miss a thing. “Like that, huh? You like being my little slut?”
You shake your head, trying to deny it, but the damage is done.
Rafe dives in, and you let out a moan that you didn’t realize you were capable of producing. You clamp your own hand over your mouth, because you know he’ll stop if you get too loud. His tongue licks you up and down, and true to what you had always thought, he does know what he’s doing.
The hand pinching your nipples doesn’t relent, and the weight of his arm holds you down when you buck up as he pushes two fingers inside you, scissoring them to stretch your walls out. It hurts, in the best way, and before you know it, he’s added a third.
His mouth stays focused on your clit, and your legs tremble, even though it’s barely been a few minutes. It’s all of it, all at once. Being naked in Rafe’s bed, his hand groping your tits, the way he holds you down without trying, the smell of his cologne and his skin and his sweat, making you lightheaded.
His fingers push in and out, and when he hits that sweet spot inside you, the one your own fingers have never been able to reach but somehow, Rafe’s have become well acquainted with, you can’t help the noises you make.
You repeat his name over and over again, and you think you’ve felt the height of this pleasure, that nothing could surpass this feeling, until your stomach tightens in an entirely new way. Your fucked out brain gets it together for a minute, to feel the overwhelming, ecstatic pressure of Rafe’s tongue on your clit, spelling out his own name. Your stomach tightens, unbearably so, that coil winding up, but before he even finishes the F, it snaps all at once.
You let out a scream—which you think is so stupid of you. But it feels so good, there was no way around it. Rafe reacts instantly, grabbing your hand that’s pulling his hair and using it to snap over your mouth, all while he rides you through it.
His nose presses against your clit while he slides his fingers out, your pussy walls clamping around nothing, missing him already. He laps up the mess you just made with his tongue, the noise being so overwhelming, you want to scream again.
You use your other hand to yank his hair, pulling him up to look at you, because you know you want to see this. Rafe, your Rafe, your boyfriend, with blown, wide eyes and the entire lower half of his face glistening with your juices, with the mess you just made, and then you collapse back down onto the bed.
Your breathing is heavy. You aren’t sure it’ll ever go back to normal.
Rafe pulls his shirt off by grabbing it from the back, yanking it over his head. Your hand floats up to
touch his chest, to make sure he’s still real and not just a vivid sex dream, but he slaps it out of the way.
“What did I say, hm?” he asks, leaning over you. His face is just an inch too far to kiss. Your limbs feel numb, and you can’t pull him down yourself. You want to cry, because you want to kiss him so badly. “I said you had to be quiet, or everyone’s gonna know what a little whore you are.”
“I tried, daddy, I did-”
“I don’t think you tried at all, kid.”
“No, I did, I swear-”
“You’re lucky that I-” and before he finishes his sentence, you pull him down into another kiss. He tastes like you and scotch, and the combination is so intoxicating, you can’t pull away. “Hey, hey,” he breathes. “I’m not going anywhere, okay?” and the soothing way he says it, you believe him.
“I’m lucky that you what?” you ask, unbuckling his belt and snaking it off the loops.
“That I love you, and I’m not gonna punish you tonight for not listening to me.” You drop the belt over your stomach, the melt part hitting with a little clink. You look back up at him, your eyes wide, you imagine, your cheeks flushed.
“You love me?” you ask, quietly. You can barely hear yourself over the thud of your heart pounding in your chest.
“I do,” Rafe replies, running his hand to smooth over your hair, which you’re sure is a mess now. “Enough that I’m gonna fuck you now, but I had to say it first, because I’m gonna fuck you until you break.”
You’re speechless, watching Rafe unbutton his pants and kick them off, boxers going with them. He strokes himself once, twice, and you’re still staring up at his face, even though normally you would get distracted.
He looks up again.
“You ready, kid?”
“I love you, Rafey,” you say, twisting your hands around to the back of his neck, pushing him into yet another kiss. You can’t pull away, even if you want to, you want him so close that you forget everything else in the world for now. While you’re kissing, he lines himself up with your leaking pussy, which has probably ruined these sheets, and pushes in the tip.
You pull back from the kiss, just to moan, but Rafe silences you with his mouth again. He pushes in more, and more, until you’re sure he’s bottomed out. Your cunt is so, so stretched, you can’t fathom this is what you’ve been missing out on, and it feels so good, like nothing has ever felt before, not his fingers, not his tongue, not any other part of him.
“That’s halfway, kid, you doin’ okay?” and your eyes jolt up to his in a second.
“H-half?” you breathe out. “I can’t, I can’t take any more, s’not gonna fit Rafe, not gonna fit-”
“Hey,” he repeats, which always has that calming effect on you. “You let me worry about that, okay? Just relax this pussy f’me, okay?” and the way he says it, you do, because you have no other choice. He pushes in again, fast, hard, and then pulls all the way out. You’re too scared to look anywhere but his eyes, so you stay locked in on them, until he pushes all the way in again, and your eyes clasp shut.
“Oh, oh my god, Rafe-” And you don’t care who hears you this time. He pulls out again, just his lip still inside you.
“Look, princess, look down,” he urges, and you follow his instructions, because you always do. “Look where we’re connected, yeah?” He fucks in and out of you, slowly but then faster, and you do look, entranced at the way your pussy sucks him in, the way your cum is coating his dick, at the brutal pace he’s set.
You look until you can’t anymore, leaning back against the pillow and watching Rafe above you, his face twisted in pleasure, eyebrows furrowed, mouth panting. He buries his face into your neck, and you grip the top of his shoulders, nails digging in, because you just need to hold onto something.
He told the truth, you think, in your fucked out, blissful state, that he was going to fuck you like he hated you, battering into your sore pussy over and over again.
You repeat his name—daddy, not Rafe—until he shuts you up with a kiss, and he watches the strings of spit connecting your mouths when he pulls away.
“Just needed this dick, didn’ya princess? Just needed daddy to think for ya?” You moan in reply. “You got it then, kid, because m’never gonna stop fucking you. Y’never gonna think about anything else again.”
And then he finally does you in, because he presses down, right below your stomach, while he slams in, and you feel something inside you break, like a flood breaking through a dam. It washes out to every part of you, from your ears to your fingers to your toes. White hot pleasure runs its course through your body, cunt tightening and shaking, eyes rolling back, your spine arching forward. Through all of it, Rafe pins you down, and fucks you through it. And finally, deliriously, you open your fucked-out eyes, looking up at him.
“I love you, daddy,” and he cums before he can even pull out, messy rivulets shooting inside you, leaking out onto his expensive sheets. He moans into your neck, and his entire body slumps forward, and you giggle under the weight.
A few minutes pass by.
“Rafey, you’re gonna crush me,” you say quietly, sing-songy. You’re so happy, you’ve forgotten everything else that’s happened.
Rafe presses a kiss to your forehead and rolls off, slumping next to you. Your head lands on his chest not a second later, his arm around your shoulder and another kiss to your hair.
“Feel better, kid?”
“So much better, Rafey.”
You don’t know when you fall asleep, only that you woke up to the sound of your phone going on. You pick it up, trying to turn down the light so Rafe doesn’t wake up too. There’s one message.
JJ: I thought you said you weren’t gonna sleep with him?
౨ৎ
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[9:33 pm]
You knew Jeno was a good dad, he knew it, your friends knew it, anybody who had seen him interact with your guys' daughter knew it. Right now, it wasn't feeling like he was a great dad. He was tired, cold, his feet hurt, and he just wanted to go to bed.
But he wasn't in bed, he doubted he was even close to getting to bed due to the toddler standing in front of him with her hands on her hips which she definitely got from you. Jeno sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose, not believing that he was arguing with his almost 3 year old. He expected this 10 years from now!
He thought the terrible twos were a myth. How could his perfect baby girl ever turn into a little menace? When people warned him he'd wave them off. Not his baby girl Not his baby girl who gave him her first smile, who never struggled to be put to sleep, who didn't struggle to get rid of her pacifier. She was just too perfect to ever become a menace.
"And I eat my candy!" The toddler yelled while stomping her pink, sparkly shoe-clad foot.
In any other situation Jeno would have thought this would be funny, cute even, but not right now. You had both already let her stay up an hour and a half past her bedtime to take her trick or treating and splurged on her over the top princess dress with accessories.
She was hard to say no to but he had to be firm, "Baby, no. It's time for a bath and bed."
"I eat one candy," she held up her tiny pointer finger, "then bedtime."
He shook his head, "You ate candy while we were walking baby, it's time for bed. You're tired."
She shook her head and pointed her wand in his direction, "Appa, I said one candy then bed."
"Appa said no, let's go. Now," Jeno stated firmly. He wishes you had taken care of bedtime, but it was only fair considering you helped her get ready. He heard the little fit she threw when you made her wear tights under her dress and when you redid her hair 4 times because it didn't look like "princess hair."
The toddler sighed and waved Jeno off and made her way to the kitchen, where you had both set he bucket of candy on the counter. He sighed again, she could not be more predictable. 3, 2, 1... there went a chair scraping along the floor.
"The bath is ready baby, let's go!" You called from the bathroom.
"Candy?" The toddler called back.
"No, come play with the bubbles."
An excited squeal sounded out and a quick rush of pink and purple tulle flashed before his eyes. Jeno couldn't believe all it took was bubbles. Freaking bubbles!
He threw himself onto the couch with a long, deep sigh. It felt like only a few seconds before he felt the familiar weight of his two year old on his back.
"Tell Appa you're sorry for arguing," you instructed. The toddler complied quietly, placing a very wet kiss on his cheek. "Now, it's time for bed baby, goodnight," you told her with a flurry of kisses on her smiling cheeks.
Putting her to bed was easy, by the time she was tucked in and Jeno turned around to flick on the nightlight, she was knocked out. He laughed under his breath and trudged back to the kitchen, to catch sight of you and a small pile of candy wrappers.
"I am so glad this night is over. Chocolate?" You offered with a tired smile.
“Next year we can just tell her Halloween was cancelled.”
-
A/n: happy Halloween!!
#kpop imagines#kpop au#kpop scenarios#kpop reactions#nct#nct imagines#nct fluff#nct timestamps#nct x reader#nct dream#nct dream imagines#nct dream fluff#jeno blurb#jeno fluff#jeno x reader#jeno imagines#jeno timestamp#dad!nct
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⋆.ೃ࿔* ── 𝐃𝐈𝐘-𝐃𝐀𝐃!
it’s career day, and megumi has to bring his dad to school so he can tell the class about his job. the problem? he only has a 20-year-old sorcerer-guardian who has the brain capacity of a walnut.
content. canon divergence (suguru’s alive and studying to be a kindergarten teacher), possible ooc characters, female!reader.
notes. guys i’m a sucker for satoru who really, really tries and isn’t just a goofy man-child ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১ also ! thank you all for your patience, it took me a while to finish this piece bc of uni, so i'm vv happy it's finally done <3
taglist. | masterlist.
“I don’t have a dad.”
As cruel as it may be, a part of Megumi hopes that the sentence makes his teacher greatly uncomfortable. Demanding for a father to attend a Career Day at school simply isn’t fair to children without one—or, well, to the child without one. It’s not his fault his father hauled ass and left, so why is she making this so difficult for him?
“Oh,” she mumbles. It seems his arrow hit the target, as her eyebrows pull together in a frown and she shifts her weight between her feet. “Well, you, uh, have a male guardian, don’t you?”
Megumi grimaces. Instantly, he thinks back to last week. Satoru Gojo, self-proclaimed strongest, had hit his head on a kitchen cabinet. With a dramatic pout and an overexaggerated wobble to his lips, he clung to you for hours. Some affection will make it all better!
Of course, when Megumi criticised his skills surrounding his infinity technique—because, really, how couldn’t it block a simple cabinet—the sorcerer opted to ignore him. He suspects there was some foul play at hand.
“Barely,” he mutters, as the memory resurfaces.
His teacher lets out a startled hum. “I’m sorry?”
“Nothing,” Megumi says quickly. He watches as she starts typing on her computer, and the realisation that she’s probably currently taking a look at his file isn’t a particularly welcome one. “What about my other guardian? Can I bring her, instead?”
“This event is geared towards fathers,” she explains. It’s obvious she forgot her reading glasses today, Megumi thinks, as she needs to narrow her eyes to read the screen in front of her. “I have one Satoru Gojo noted down as your male guardian. Surely, he will be able to attend.”
Megumi pauses. He blinks up at her expressionlessly, and fights off the urge to push his teacher down a well. You often preach about being kind to others, and that wouldn’t be very kind.
“Can’t I take my oth—”
“I’m afraid not,” she interrupts him before he even gets the sentence out. It irks him. Megumi isn’t fond of speaking to begin with, so when he does, he’d prefer not to be cut off halfway through. “An exception will not be made. Please, make sure to bring Gojo-san to school.”
Megumi briefly, and for the very first time ever, mourns the fact that you and Satoru weren’t married. A small part of him calls the man a coward for not asking you to. If he’d simply taken the step, then Megumi would be able to pass you off as Gojo-san. Unfortunately, he can’t, and it’s becoming increasingly clear that there’s no way around this problem.
“Fine,” he grumbles. It takes all of his remaining willpower to not stomp out of the classroom. Once again, he thinks of you. It’d be extremely bad manners. He can’t find it in himself to wish his teacher a nice day this time, though, and so she’ll have to make due with a slightly less polite Megumi for today.
There’s nothing he can do about it. Satoru will have to come to the school.
Megumi suddenly despises the idea of Career Day.
“I need you to come to my school next week.”
Immediately, all chatter around the dining table stops. For once, Megumi finds himself annoyed at the sudden appearance of silence. Before he said it, he knew his words would most likely have such an effect—he just didn’t expect it to be so instant.
He tries his best to feign nonchalance, as if the topic that’s coming up didn’t make him feel stressed-out beyond belief. The confused, startled glances you and Satoru share don’t do much to help him, either. Perhaps it’s because Megumi is looking straight at him; him instead of you. Yeah, Satoru, he isn’t a fan of it, either.
“Me?” The man asks then, and Megumi has to resist the urge to say, ‘no, I meant the snail in the backyard—yes, you,’ in the most sarcastic voice he can muster up. Satoru once again steals a look at you, ever so oblivious to Megumi's mental remarks. “Don’t you mean—”
“I don’t,” Megumi cuts him off solemnly. His lips are pursed shut, and he pokes the slices of pork belly in his bowl with his chopsticks. One didn’t need to be of particularly high intelligence to notice the boy’s displeasure. “I have to bring a male figure for Career Day.”
It’s slow, the morphing of Satoru’s face, but it happens gradually and doesn’t stop until he’s positively beaming. Megumi doesn’t like it one bit. Nothing good happens when he looks like that, and he’s quite sure that all that will spew out of his mouth in a few seconds will be nothing except for pure nonsense.
“Well, luckily, I will have the day off, then!” Satoru chimes, with a smile so wide it causes two dimples to appear on his cheeks. You copy his smile, and gently go to poke the little dent in his skin—Satoru lets you, as he always does. Megumi would think of it as cute if he weren’t so annoyed. “I will be there.”
It seems he was right. Satoru’s words are pure nonsense.
“I didn’t tell you when,” he comments dryly.
The sorcerer blinks. His smile is still on his face, but it’s fading, and the dimples do so with it. Your hand hovers halfway in the air, stuck with nothing to poke, and you slowly bring it back down to your side. It seems neither of you had taken time to think about that small fact—Megumi blames Satoru for dragging you down with him; him and those indentations in his cheek that you always seem to coo over.
“Oh,” Satoru mumbles. A crease between his brows forms as his brain hurries to catch up with the newfound information. A few seconds pass, and then the previous bravado returns. “Well, it doesn’t matter! I can take the day off. When do you need me? Tell me, and I’ll be there.”
Megumi very much doubts he can take days off all willy-nilly like that, especially after he pushed his workload onto someone else to attend his science fair last time, but then again, what does he know? If Satoru didn’t care about the consequences of his actions, then Megumi wasn’t about to break his own head doing so, either.
“Next Friday,” he mumbles. From the tone of his voice, it’s quite clear that he’d rather be saying anything else. “We have to leave at eight a.m., please, be on time.”
“Sure thing!” Satoru chimes, and with that, Megumi thinks the dreaded conversation has finally come to an end.
All in all—it could’ve gone worse. At least Satoru didn’t prolong it unnecessarily. Nor did he add a bunch of relentless teasing. He glances at the sorcerer. Satoru is happily munching on the dinner you’d prepared, both his cheeks stuffed full with entirely too much rice. It’s unbecoming, and a reflection of his poor manners, Megumi thinks, and he doesn’t understand how you look at the man with such hearts in your eyes.
Though, your more than adequate cooking seems to have saved him from one of Satoru’s onslaughts. He’s grateful. Even if he doesn’t particularly enjoy the sight in front of him.
“Hey, ‘toru?” You ask, breaking the silence with a slight hesitation to your voice. It nearly sounds nervous, and both Megumi and Tsumiki look up in alarm. Satoru hums, still chewing away. “What are you going to tell the class?”
Satoru stops eating. His chewing comes to a halt, and his chopsticks freeze in the air. A slice of pork drops from between them, and falls back into his bowl—It’s not hard to see the cogs turning in his head. “Uhm, I. . .” He swallows the food still in his mouth, and clears his throat.
Right. It’s Career Day—but Satoru can’t tell a bunch of seven to eight-year-olds that he hunts and kills grimy, ugly, and freakishly scary curses for a living, now, can he? Megumi doesn’t think that would go over well with the other parents. The boy sighs. It’s just one thing after another. He grimly believes the world might just be out to get him.
“I. . .Oh! I can tell them I’m a teacher,” his guardian scrambles for a solution, and Megumi can’t help but think it’s a little lack-lustre. Who would believe that guy is a teacher, anyway? Then again. . .Megumi doesn’t know a better fix for their current problem, either. He was so focused on the fact that it was Satoru that had to come to the school, he all but forgot about the fact that the dear thorn-in-his-side didn’t possess a normal job. “Suguru has told me a thing or two about his internship. I can take inspiration from there.”
Ah, yes. The famed Suguru Geto. Megumi has met him before. He hasn’t actually spoken to him, however. The man often visits, and has twin girls clinging to him when he does, and while Tsumiki seems to really like him—and them—Megumi doesn’t have an interest in seeking out some form of interaction, yet. Whenever he comes over, Megumi opts to hide in his room. Suguru never tries to disturb him, nor does he try to coax him into coming out. He’s very grateful for it.
So, despite never speaking to him, Megumi knows about Suguru. Well, he knows enough. He knows Suguru went to school with the two of you, and he knows something really, very bad (nearly) happened that caused the man to take a step back from the world you all live in. What exactly happened (or what didn’t happen), Megumi doesn’t know for sure. You and Satoru almost never speak about it, and when you do, it’s in hushed voices—and you always stop immediately when he enters the room.
But that’s okay. He doesn’t need to know. Suguru doesn’t force himself upon Megumi, and so he will extend him the same courtesy.
“I thought Geto-san wasn’t a teacher, yet?” Tsumiki speaks up from beside him, tilting her head to the side in confusion. “Mimi and Nana said he’s still learning. How can he be teaching, already?”
“He’s not a teacher, yet, munchkin, well spotted,” Satoru answers with a proud grin. The nickname annoys Megumi—the feeling of irritation has been conditioned into his very being after Satoru chose it as the designated nickname for both of them. “An internship helps him build experience in the field. It means he is still learning, but he will do so while teaching.”
Tsumiki nods in understanding, her mouth opens and her lips curl into a small ‘ah’ as the information settles in. “So, you will pretend to be a teacher, then? At Megumi’s school?”
Satoru bites on his bottom lip, seemingly deep in thought. Seemingly—as Megumi is quite convinced he doesn’t ever think before he speaks. “I think so, yes,” he explains, and unknowingly retorates Megumi’s train of thoughts. How annoying. Satoru looks towards you for approval; it’s something he does very often. “It’s probably the safest route, no?”
“It’s our best option,” you say, and bring a thumb up to the corner of Satoru’s mouth. Gently, you wipe away a grain of rice stuck to his skin. It’s effortless, and nearly automated. Megumi wonders how many times you’ve had to do that. “Pretending to be a teacher shouldn’t be too difficult a task. Right, mochi?”
“Right,” Satoru echoes. His eyes track your every move, and the slight, pink colouring of his cheeks doesn’t seem to embarrass him even a little bit. Megumi thinks it should. Have some decorum. “I can do it, no problem.”
“Alright then,” you say, and smile. First at Satoru, and then at Megumi. You look at the boy for a few seconds; you’re about to ask him if he’s okay with it. He knows you are, because you always do. “Is that okay for you, Megumi?” It’s like clockwork, almost.
Megumi feels the need to answer with something snarky. Something akin to the sound of ‘What choice do I have?’ but he doesn’t—because you’re being kind, and you don’t deserve such a response. So, instead he turns towards Satoru.
“. . .Just don’t mess it up.”
Satoru delivers a whole spiel about how ‘he’d never do that’ and that he’s ‘more than capable’ of telling a little white lie, but Megumi dilutes it to background noise rather quickly. He continues sputtering his nonsense when Megumi and Tsumiki stand up to clear the table, and still hasn’t stopped even when you and him start loading the dishwasher together—Megumi chooses to seek reprieve in his room while he’s distracted.
It isn’t until many hours later, when Megumi leaves the sanctuary of his room to swipe a quick snack from the kitchen, that he first hears Satoru speak about something other than his great, and very much sufficient, ‘capabilities’. Your voices are muffled, and Megumi has to focus to make out your words. His soft, inaudible padding down the illuminated hallways comes to a halt. As if that would make his ears function better.
“Are you sure you want to do this, Satoru?”
The boy frowns. With such gentleness in your voice, it’s hard to identify the worry lingering beneath the surface. Megumi moves a bit closer. He stops one step shy of bumping into the wooden surface, and peeks through the groove. The door is ajar—it’s something that allows him to watch how your eyes follow Satoru’s large frame as he paces around the room. It’s strange. Seeing him so. . .frazzled.
Satoru nods. “I can do this, I know I can,” he says, and quits his pacing to look at you. Megumi can’t see his face, but he can see yours. He might as well not have, though, as he can’t make out the emotion that fills your eyes. It’s not one he himself has in his repertoire, that he knows for sure. “He never asks me for anything, princess. I have to do this right.”
Ah, this isn’t a conversation Megumi is meant to hear. He should probably seize his eavesdropping, he thinks, and winces a little when he properly analyses Satoru’s words. They’re truthful. Megumi doesn’t go to him when he needs something. His first thought is to go to you—and his second, Tsumiki. And if he’s being honest anyway, his third thought very likely isn’t Satoru, either; He’d try to solve it on his own if it came down to it. Megumi frowns again. He doesn’t like how that realisation makes him feel.
A careful shuffle of footsteps breaks him free from his thoughts. Megumi looks up, and catches how you place a hand on Satoru’s cheek. “I’m sure you’ll do great, baby,” you mumble. There’s a small, soft smile on your lips, one that quickly makes way for the peck Satoru places upon them.
“Thank you,” Satoru whispers. One of his hands reaches for yours, and Megumi suddenly feels as if he’s intruding on something when the man brings them up to his lips to press a tender kiss to them. Okay, no, definitely intruding—ew.
The boy scrunches his nose up in disgust, and hurriedly darts back towards his room. Suddenly, he has lost his appetite for a late-evening snack. Megumi lets out a deep sigh once he’s all tucked into his sheets again. Perhaps giving Satoru a shot wouldn’t be that big of a problem. Just one, though.
. . .Yeah, just one should be enough.
It’s the final, conclusive thought Megumi has before dozing off to sleep. Blissfully unaware of the conversation you and Satoru share—now behind a very closed door.
You stifle a giggle. The disappearance of Megumi’s presence outside your bedroom was quick and rampant as soon as Satoru started to kiss your hands. Something the sorcerer did very deliberately. It’s as if the boy suddenly forgot about the very special, very effective pair of eyes his guardian possesses. And with a cursed energy output such as Megumi’s, it would be hard not to recognise his presence.
“You did that on purpose,” you comment. “How cruel of you, mochi.”
Satoru hums, and kisses the inside of your wrist. “Maybe, the little brat shouldn’t eavesdrop, then,” he defends himself. There isn’t an inkling of guilt to be seen on his pretty face.
. . .Though, both of you still take some extra care to shut the door next time.
Megumi faithfully believes that, as of today, he has used-up all of his luck for the next five, no, ten years. It can only go downhill from here. For some inexplicable, mind-boggling reason—Satoru is actually pulling this off. That’s not all; he’s not merely winging it, he’s genuinely doing well. The boy can’t quite believe his eyes.
When he’d walked to the front with such an overexaggerated pep in his step, and an overabundance of bravado rolling off of him in waves—Megumi couldn’t help but watch on with a grim look, and a healthy dose of negative thoughts. It only amplified the nerves he’d collected so far during the walk to school. Somehow, watching Satoru give your flashcards a frantic do-over did very little to ease his bubbling anxiety.
There were many of them, flashcards that is. All possible questions his peers or his teacher could ever think of are written on those little pieces of cardboard. Courtesy of you, and your boyfriend. Megumi’s able to recall all those nights the two of you spend at the kitchen table—practising. He thought it was silly at the time.
But, as it turns out, it works.
Satoru is fun. To other people; Megumi doesn’t share the sentiment. Against all odds, he’s dynamic, and speaks with conviction. His flamboyant hand gestures have others think of them as amusing—captivating, even. Satoru is talking, and they’re all hanging onto his every word. No matter the fact that they’re all cleverly disguised lies.
Megumi can’t wrap his head around it. He doesn’t need to, however. If anything, he’s relieved that his peers think of his guardian as cool. While he certainly does not share the opinion, he isn’t too dense to admit that such a belief will save him a lot of embarrassment in the future. So, for this one, single day, he will let Satoru Gojo be cool. His snarky comments can resume tomorrow.
“Ah, it seems you have a deep love for your profession, Gojo-san,” his teacher says. She interrupts Satoru’s rant, and catches his attention as well as Megumi’s. Her voice is light and airy, and carries nothing that should cause him to fear the worst. Still, the boy feels on edge. “Though, I don’t remember the grade you are teaching. Could you tell us, again?”
Ah, and there it goes. The very first card in the elaborately built castle of lies.
Satoru pauses. A second passes, and then two, and three, and so on. He doesn’t speak for a good thirty, and Megumi can nearly see his mind leaf through his beloved flashcards—flashcards that are now neatly tucked into his pockets and entirely out of reach. That’s good. Because the absolute last thing Satoru should do now, is resort back to the flashcards.
Megumi shakes his head no as a signal.
“Ah,” Satoru says. “I teach kindergarten.”
Satoru didn’t catch the hint. Megumi wishes the ground would swallow him up. It would have been the correct answer—it is the answer that’s written on the flashcards—if Satoru hadn’t decided to go off route. Getting too caught up in the story he’d been free-writing, and allowing himself to get carried away by the looks of awe is resulting in his downfall, which, consecutively, will end with Megumi’s downfall, as well.
“Huh? But! What about the science experiment that exploded?” One of the children in his class whines. “I didn’t get to do that in kindergarten!”
“And the backflip you taught your students!”
“What about the first prize in the talent show? I thought your students were famous!”
The little bit of colour that normally resides in Satoru’s face steadily disappears, and he clenches his fist at his side. Ah, it’s great to know he’s at least aware of his mistake. That won’t help either of them at the moment, though. Megumi’s eyebrows furrow, and a feeling of distress overtakes him. It shows on his face. He doesn’t exactly go through the trouble of trying to hide it—there are bigger problems right now.
How utterly humiliating to be caught lying.
Satoru’s eyes find him. They’re just as troubled as his own. It worsens his anxiety.
“Oh, uhm, you see. . .” Satoru stammers, and Megumi’s stomach churns when the children around them continue to ask more and more questions. The wince his guardian lets out does little to soothe him. Megumi sighs, and looks at the ground. “Ah, I see. It seems you guys saw right through me.”
Megumi slides down in his seat. Maybe, if he tried hard enough, the ground would absorb him. It’s currently looking like a preferable fate.
“. . .I’m actually a detective.”
Oh, Jesus Christ.
“And. . .And for a detective, it’s very important to listen to what people say, because they could be lying!”
It’s a sad, pathetic excuse for a save. Megumi briefly ponders the distance between his seat and the door. Perhaps he could make a run for it. The subway station is very close by—getting on and travelling to an entirely new city to start a new life doesn’t seem like such a bad option. He sighs. No, that’s not possible. You and Tsumiki would be very worried. What else is there to do, though?
“You all picked up on my lie, which tells me every single one of you could make a great detective in the future.”
Megumi thinks Satoru might have some underlying mental problems. Though, they can’t possibly be as severe as the problems his classmates have—for they all believe the nonsense he’s giving them. Bright eyes, filled with hope and admiration, stare up at the man at the front of the class; impressed hums and entertained smiles get passed between the parents standing at the edge of the room. And Satoru, well, he seems entirely too proud of the fact that he made a bunch of children think they’re destined for a career in law enforcement. But, be that as it may, it works.
The children stir up unrest—the good kind this time, the kind that vocalises their excitement—and all rush to ask the detective a question. But, before they can even open their mouths, Satoru claps his hands together. It seems he has decided enough is enough, and it’s one of those very rare moments where Megumi agrees with him. The boy needs this to be over already.
“Alright, that’s it for today,” Satoru says, and feigns disappointment. He pretends to be affected by the sad groans of the children—keyword being pretend, as to the trained eye it’s quite clear that he wishes to leave. “I’m not allowed to tell you more.”
Ah, see, now that’s a good card.
“Wait, but, what about. . .”
“Ah, sorry, that’s confidential. Detective stuff, y’know?”
Confidential. Megumi thinks that might just be his new favourite word. The lingering feeling of anxiety slowly starts to subside with every step Satoru takes towards the back of the room—to the back, and away from the spotlight. His eyes follow the man’s large frame, but Satoru never chooses to look at him in return. His line of sight is firmly focused on the floor. It confuses Megumi, but he chalks it up to a mere whim.
All things considered (and minus the near cardiac arrest he went through), today went pretty well, after all. Much to his surprise.
Perhaps Megumi doesn’t hate Career Day. A strong dislike is more like it.
Megumi can’t count the times he wished for Satoru to be quiet. The exact number is much like the digits of Pi—huge, and absolutely never-ending. He can, however, count the times he didn’t wish for him to be quiet. As of today, that stands at a very solid one.
The birds around them chirp, and the bustle of other people is heard all around them—but they’re the only sounds gracing his ears. There is none of Satoru’s incessant chatter, nor is there even a glimmer of gloating about a job well-done. It’s eerily silent, and Megumi isn’t sure what to make of it. This isn’t quite how he imagined the walk home to go. Far from it, if he’s being honest.
“What’s up with you?”
It’s possibly the first time Megumi decides to break the silence, ever. The boy frowns, and fiddles with the straps of his backpack. There isn’t a middle-ground with Satoru, he has found out. Either he speaks entirely too much, or unnervingly little. There’s a tiny pebble in his path, and Megumi feels the need to kick it forward—so he does.
“I kind of messed up there, huh?”
The kick doesn’t have nearly enough force to it. Megumi watches as the little rock skips forward. Once, twice, and then it comes to a standstill again. “Yeah, kind of,” he agrees.
“I’m sorry,” Satoru rushes out. It’s said so fast, as if it physically pains him to say it. Perhaps it does. It’s sincere, however. There isn’t even a hint of a joke to be found. Something must be bothering him. “It didn’t go how I wanted it to go, and I don’t know why I went astray, and forgot about the cards. It—well, it was pretty stupid.”
Megumi doesn’t exactly feel the need to deny it.
“So, I get it, okay?” He continues, seeing the boy’s silence as an empty space for more conversation—more rambling. Since that’s what it is; rambles, plain and simple. Megumi doesn’t see the need for such a fuss. “I shouldn’t have strayed from the plan, and. . .”
“It’s fine.”
Satoru blinks at him. “What?”
“I said it’s fine,” Megumi repeats. Because it really is fine. Admittedly, it wasn’t smart of Satoru to all but discard your carefully planned presentation, but it ended well enough regardless. No harm, no foul. “Thank you for coming.”
That small, short sentence is enough to stop Satoru in his tracks. Megumi doesn’t, however. The man is very tall, he’s sure to catch up in a jiffy; he doesn’t need him to wait. There’s another small silence, though this one feels a lot more comfortable than the last. Satoru takes his time to process, and Megumi lets him.
“W—What?” The sorcerer stammers in shock. There is no need for Megumi to turn around and see—he can hear the smile curling onto his lips. “Did you just. . .”
“I won’t say it again,” Megumi grumbles definitively, and picks up his pace. The very tips of his ears heat up, and the apples of his cheeks turn red. The feeling of embarrassment. This wasn’t exactly how he’d envisioned it to appear when the day started.
Satoru attempts to run after him, to catch up. “Megumi!” He calls out, the very prominent, very familiar whiney lilt now back in his voice. Megumi didn’t miss it. “Wait for me, I didn’t hear you! Could you repeat that?”
“Yes, you did!” Megumi says, and throws him an annoyed glance from over his shoulder. He tightens his hold on the straps of his backpack. “Stop lying.”
“Nuh uh!”
“What are you? Six?”
Satoru’s toothy grin is infuriating. But—it’s familiar. And Megumi discovers he’s much more at ease when that grin is on display, than when the man in question is moping around. It’s a lot less alarming.
“And a half,” Satoru adds.
The scowl that’s on Megumi’s face appears almost instantly when he goes to ruffle his hair. For a man whose technique largely surrounds being untouchable, he has a surprising lack of awareness concerning this thing called personal space.
“Ugh,” Megumi groans, and pushes him off. It doesn’t work. Satoru gravitates towards him again—almost as if he’s a magnet. He doesn’t attempt to move a second time. In moments like these, it’s best to let Satoru get it all out of his system. “You’re so stupid.”
It’s true. He does think Satoru is stupid, but he can’t deny it—Satoru tried his very best today, and in the days prior. Which makes him one of the very small, barely existent group of people who have done so for him.
It seems one shot was enough, after all.
© MADE BY SANATOMIS — please, refrain from stealing, copying, or reposting any of my works.
taglist: @luv-gin @sad-darksoul @parttimep3t @nanuer @bubbletae7 @chilichopsticks @gabirii @nyxlai @rattywatty @chaoticevilbakugo @ploylulla @sugasbrownsuga @littleagxs @m3ow1 @booksarekindaneat @frankenstein852 @bananasquash @jasm-1ne @chicken-fifi @yanelis-world @satory @satoryaa @sasfransisco @faetoraa @softiehee
#ꕤ — sanatomis darling: fushiguro megumi#ꕤ — sanatomis darling: gojo satoru#gojo satoru x reader#satoru gojo x reader#fushiguro megumi x reader#fushiguro megumi x platonic!reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader
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Mine
Luke Castellan x Reader
Requested by: @officiallenalove like imagine the reader is like a daughter of Poseidon and we know he’s not around most of the time and she meets Luke and they like fall in love but she’s never known what healthy love looks like so it’s low key angsty but happy at the same time yk?
Summary: "You are the best thing that's ever been mine"
Warning: crappy parents, angst, self doubt
Word Count: 2k
Masterlist
A/N Sorry this took so long I had a hard time choosing which lyrics/moments I wanted to write
You made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter
Godly parents were always deadbeats. It was just a fact of half-blood life. But after spending years thinking I had no father, I was thrilled to have been claimed by Poseidon. It was naïve of me to think that just because he claimed me he’d be a good father just because I knew of his existence. I spent night after night praying to him, looking for some sense of guidance from him but never receiving anything. Eventually I learned not to bother with him or anyone else.
My mom had let me down enough times that I knew it wasn’t just gods that let you down. When she finally told me about my father she told me I’d be moving to a strange place. Not for my safety but because she didn’t want to take care of the daughter of the god that broke her heart. She complained endlessly on the drive over that my father never even bothered to offer her immortality, rather last she heard of him he was falling in love with another woman on Long Island.
She was dead to me after she dumped me at camp with hardly a goodbye. And then my father was dead to me when I begged for his help but received nothing.
~
I was a flight risk, with a fear of fallin' / Wondering why we bother with love, if it never lasts
Most of the other campers felt the same about their godly parents but it seemed like the only one who really understood was Luke.
“I mean, it’s like we’re nothing to them,” Luke ranted to me. We rant to each other a lot. “We’re just byproducts of their mistakes.”
“Gods, I hate men,” I groaned, lying back in the grass of the green. “Are all fathers this shitty?” I asked, looking up at Luke. I squinted into the sun as I peered at him accusingly. He moved his hand to block the sun from my eyes.
“I wouldn’t know from personal experience but I wouldn’t be this shitty,” he smiled cheekily down at me. He moved to lay back too, resting on his elbow. “I’d never abandon you.”
I could feel my chest tighten and I hoped it wasn’t apparent on my face. I just laughed, gently pushing his chest in a playful manner, hoping I was sparing him any embarrassment by making him think I thought he was joking. “You wish. You’d probably leave once the first diaper change comes.” I couldn’t even begin to consider loving him—or anyone—enough to feel abandoned by him. Thanks to my parents I felt more than enough abandonment.
He gave me a forced laugh as I sat up. “Yeah probably. I’d just be the fun dad.”
~
Do you remember, we were sittin' there by the water? / You put your arm around me for the first time
Later that day I found myself sitting on the beach of the Long Island Sound. The ocean was always sort of a sore spot for me because it was just a reminder of my father but it still felt calming. Like I belonged despite my father’s indifference.
As I stared out into the sound, zoning out, I let my mind wander to the conversation I had with Luke. That wasn’t the first time he had tried to hint at his feelings and he was a great guy but I couldn’t trust him. I didn’t have faith that he—or anyone for that matter—wouldn’t just let me down. How could I trust I wouldn’t let him down.
I was interrupted from my thoughts by the man himself. “Hey, can we talk?” he asked, coming to stand next to me. I just wordlessly gestured for him to sit next to me. He complied, taking a few breaths before looking at me. “I’m just gonna come right out and day it: I like you,” he rushed. “You don’t have to like me back or anything but I need to know that you know.”
I stared at him, my mouth agape. I hadn’t expected his boldness. “Um…” I had to take a second to structure my thoughts. “Luke, you’re a great guy. Any girl would be lucky to have you but you don’t want me.”
“Actually, I do I just said it,” he chuckled, trying to release some tension.
I laughed with him. “No, I mean I don’t think I can give you what you want. I’m not the best with feelings and I’m not entirely convinced that you, and everyone else in my life, won’t just leave me when it’s convenient.”
“Hey,” Luke chided gently, throwing an arm over my shoulder to bring me closer, “I meant what I said I'm not gonna abandon you. And if you’re scared, that’s fine, we can take this slow. If you really just don’t want a relationship that’s fine. I’ll still be by your side no matter what.”
Tears pricked my eyes at how thoughtful and caring he was being. Fortunately he couldn’t see them because my head was resting on his shoulder. “Okay,” I agreed, “I want to try taking things slow with you.” His grip on me tightened as he held me a little closer, like he was so excited you just have to squeeze something.
~
Braced myself for the goodbye / 'Cause that's all I've ever known
Things were great for a few months. Every time I began to doubt our relationship, Luke was there to help me. Giving me constant assurances and telling me how much he loved me. So much so that I started to feel like a burden to him. Like I was just a task he had to get through every week.
“Hey,” Luke announced his presence as he entered my cabin, “I haven’t seen you all day, what’s up?” he asked, looking around the cabin.
“J-just a second!” I called from a storage closet. I quickly wiped my tears and steeled myself, willing myself to look normal. Realizing he’d be wondering why I was in the closet, I grabbed a random blanket from one of the shelves. Taking a deep breath, I stepped out of the closet with a smile. “Hey.”
His face immediately dropped. “What’s wrong?”
Curse my puffy eyes. “Nothing,” I answered. He approached me but I just slid past him, dropping the blanket onto my bunk. “Why?”
“Your eyes are all red. What’s wrong?” he asked again. Once again trying to touch me but I just backed away.
“Must be dust or something in the closet,” I tried to dismiss.
His face hardened. “C’mon, Y/N I know something’s wrong. I don’t want you to hide things from me. I want to take care of you.”
At his words the dam broke and all the thoughts and feelings I had been dealing with bubbled over. “I don't want you to have to take care of me!” A look of hurt appeared on his face and my heart ached for him. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate it, I do. I just don’t think it’s fair to you to have to comfort me whenever anything little happens. It’s pathetic,” I spat at myself.
“Hey, no, you’re not pathetic,” Luke assured me.
“You’re not listening to me,” I insisted. “How can you possibly want to be with me when I do nothing but drain you?” I stared at him, waiting for him to realize that I was a leech and leave for his own sake. But instead, he just looked endeared.
“Y/N, you are the best thing that’s ever been mine. I don’t want you to ever think that you’re a burden to me. I love you and I love that I'm the one who brings you comfort. So please, just let me love you.”
My resolve broke and I went to him, letting Luke pull me into his chest. “What did I do to deserve you?” I cried into the warmth of his chest.
“I ask myself the same,” he returned, pressing a kiss to my head.
Masterlist
#percy jackson#percy jackson and the olympians x reader#percy jackon and the olympians#pjo#pjo x reader#pjo tv show#pjo series#the lighting thief#luke castellan#luke castellan x reader#x reader#Spotify
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hii uhh, i had a little idea that id like to share if thats ok, it might be quite triggering tho so be warned ‼️
a sinner demon reader thats based on a teddy bear, because theyre too soft and mushy personality-wise, and they ended up in hell due to being suicidal. like their whole body is covered in stitches thats supposed to be a metaphor for sh scars
do whatever u want with that info, u can even ignore it if u like, have a nice day ❤️
Hazbin Hotel Cast with a Teddy Bear!Sinner Reader
Includes: Charlie, Vaggie, Angel Dust, Husk, Niffty, Sir. Pentious, Cherri Bomb, Alastor.
A/N: this is such an interesting idea! I’m going based on my own experiences as someone like this, along with research. I appreciate you for trusting me with this <3 I definitely WILL make a p2!! Might write for this sinner more tbh I loved writing them!! I thought you meant a child and I wrote that I’m so sorry 😭
Charlie Morningstar
She truly didn’t understand why you were in hell.
You are such a sweetheart! She adores you.
When you showed up to the hotel one day, without clothes and covered in stitches, she was immediately worried.
She took you in and washed you up as best as she could.
You were like a child! Why were you even here?
She was happy that you wanted to be redeemed, however.
She became a mother figure to you.
You go to her when you’re sad and you hug her frequently.
She traces your scars sometimes and you two share a silent moment together.
A silent moment of understanding.
She loves picking you up and holding you!
She hugs you like you’re an actual teddy bear.
She’s the one you go to for emotional things.
She’s good at comforting you. She somehow knows what you wanna hear at all times.
Vaggie
She became a secondary mother figure to you.
She was Charlie’s girlfriend, so of course she was.
She understood your situation and was pissed heaven casted a sweetie like you because of your lowest point.
She’s the more levelheaded one.
She’s the one who gives you advice and stuff like that. While Charlie is the more emotionally supportive one, Vaggie is the more mature and steady one.
She also traces your scars. Even if you don’t like them, she tells you you’re beautiful no matter what.
When you told her more of your story, she almost cried.
A child feeling this way broke her to pieces. Especially since you were so soft.
Other than the sad stuff, she loves cuddling you.
You, her, and Charlie sometimes have cuddle sessions with you in the middle because you’re so warm + soft + squishy.
She would kill anyone for you. You’re just so adorable!
She tries to teach you to fight but gives up when you don’t want to hurt anyone.
Angel Dust
Honestly, he saw himself in you.
A lost, scared, and lonely child. You didn’t know the cruelties of the world, aside from those cruelties in your mind.
He tries his best to comfort you. He’s not the best with words, but he’s always there for you.
He calls you sugar bear! He loves you to death.
He would go to the ends of hell for you.
He treats you like he wished to be when he was the same way.
You two share a lot of similarities, so you bond well.
He nearly cried when you told him your stitches were scars from sh.
He embraces you any time he can.
He tries to be the parental figure he needed so you can have a better life, somewhere no one would judge you.
Husk
He’s stubborn, like a dad. He acts like one too.
A hardheaded, yet sweet dad.
He’s like the father you never had. Or did have. Whichever.
He’s the bartender, so he knew how to comfort.
But when you told him your story, he almost broke.
You two definitely sing some sort of song together. Maybe Angel or Vaggie joins.
He cuddles you and hides you with his wings.
If you give him baby doe eyes, he might just take you on a flight.
Husk is SUPER protective over you. He’s very similar to Vaggie in a way when it comes to protection.
He gives you good advice but he still hides behind his tough guy exterior.
He doesn’t understand why you’re down here, even if you tell him. You’re so sweet!
Either way, he adores you.
He loves patting your head and messing with your fuzzy ears.
Might even boop your nose once or twice.
Late night talks.
He probably talked you down from trying to commit again.
Niffty
Another tiny person! Yay!
You’re not a bad boy. She may be a psycho, but she would never call you bad.
Actually, she did once and felt bad once you cried.
She likes to hang out with you since you’re both tiny!
She cuddles and hugs you like you’re her stuffed animal.
Bug killers! Even if you don’t wanna kill bugs, she’s dragging you along anyways.
She tries to hide her needle from you since Husk told her what your stitches meant.
Alastor has to babysit both of you basically.
You and her do almost everything together! You’re best friends!
She sneaks into the kitchen and grabs you both snacks so you can watch a movie.
She makes you sleep in her bed sometimes so she can cuddle you.
Sir. Pentious
He’s a dad. Or, he was.
He treats you like he wishes he treated his son before he passed.
He acts like your father. An awkward father, but he still tries.
He also protects you.
Expect him to curl his tail around you and cuddle you when you’re sad.
He literally cried when you told him your story.
He tells you anytime he can that it’s not your fault. Your stitches are still beautiful.
Best girl dad ever.
Buys you anything he wants, even if he’s broke. (Except sharp things)
He teaches you some things about inventing!
You made him a little metal flower and he was so overjoyed. He took it with him everywhere.
He still remembers you, even if he’s in Heaven now.
Cherri Bomb
Chaotic auntie energy.
She would do ANYTHING for you.
She picks you up and places you on her hip like a baby.
She loves your ears! She also adores how sweet you are.
She wouldn’t admit it, but you’re the cutest thing she’s ever seen.
Even if you tell her your story, she wouldn’t see you differently. You’re a child, a child who went through so much.
Hangouts with her and Angel are a MUST.
They try to avoid doing the normal around you and focus on fun time.
She took you with her when she had a territorial fight one time and you almost cried.
She felt so bad that she bought you anything you wanted for a week.
She did anything you wanted to do, even if Husk or someone else said no to you.
Basically, if you wanted something, you went to her.
Alastor
He’s not one to like kids, really.
He was, however, kinder to you.
He did anything to protect you.
He was like your insane uncle.
He was the one who taught you how to use your abilities. Maybe to help you, or to manipulate you when you grow.
He made you jambalaya once and it became your favorite dish to share with him!
He introduced you to radio and he was happy that you loved it.
He started bringing you to his studio whenever he did a radio show.
He took you to an overlord meeting once. That’s how you met Rosie.
He pats your head like a dog lol.
Don’t expect him to be emotionally available. But he will be there to have fun sometimes.
#hazbin hotel x reader#helluva boss x reader#hazbin hotel#helluva boss#charlie x reader#hazbin charlie#charlie morningstar#vaggie x reader#vaggie#angel dust x reader#hazbin hotel angel dust#angel dust#husk x reader#hazbin hotel husk#husk hazbin hotel#niffty x reader#niffty#nifty hazbin hotel#nifty#hazbin nifty#sir pentious x reader#sir pentious#cherri bomb#cherri bomb x reader#hazbin alastor#alastor x reader#alastor#teddy bear#Teddy bear reader#sinner reader
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Set The World On Fire
Chapter Fourteen
Lando Norris had been incredibly angry when they met. Incredibly angry, but sweet enough to help her. Turns out he just needed somebody to talk to, somebody to be there for him.
He was easy to fall for, and that put her in a world of danger
Warnings: Stalking
Mafia AU
1.5K
Series Masterlist
"Happy birthday, Stinky."
Lando opened his eyes and let out a groan. It was far too early. He closed his eyes and placed his head back against the pillow.
A hand was in his hair, brushing through his curls. "Oh, you're so cute," she mumbled and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. Lacing her fingers through his own, she tried to pull him up. "C'mon, birthday boy. I made breakfast."
The promise of food was what coaxed him out of bed. As he stood, she threw a pair of pants at him, covering up his nakedness.
The moment she opened the bedroom door, the smell hit him. It was so damn sweet. Pancakes, waffles, French toast. It was a kids dream. "Holy fuck," he said as he walked into the kitchen. "Baby, what time did you get up?"
She shrugged her shoulders. "Doesn't matter," she said as she turned back to the stove, where more was cooking. Holy shit, he was gonna be double his body weight by the time his birthday was over.
Lando strode over to her. He wordlessly wrapped his arms around her and pressed a kiss to her shoulder. "You didn't have to do all of this, baby," he whispered against her skin.
There was a moment of hesitation before she answered him. "I... this isn't like your normal birthdays, I'm sure. I still wanted to make it special."
He kissed her shoulder again. "You already have."
There was no hiding the smile she wore as she placed the newest batch of pancakes (American style this time) on the table. "Eat up," she said as she placed the pan in the sink. "I'll bring takeout home tonight, yeah?"
French toast halfway to his mouth, Lando paused. "Huh?" He asked, mouth still open, ready to take a bite. But then he put the toast back down. "What? It's my birthday," he said. "You can't leave on my birthday. That's the birthday boy's rules."
"Well, birthday boy," she began as she walked past him. "I've got work. Unless you wanna live in a cardboard box in the back alley."
For a second, Lando looked like he was contemplating it. She rolled her eyes as she headed back to the bedroom to get ready for the day.
The way Lando missed her when she was working was unhealthy, he knew. But over the weeks, months (he wasn't sure how long it had been, all of the days seemed to blend together), he'd found ways to entertain himself.
She'd given him complete access to her laptop. Lando had felt so guilty when he'd hijacked it, downloading programmes and logging into software to get into contact with his employees. But the fortification of his house was coming along nicely, all because she had given him her laptop.
Any day now the house would be ready, he knew. Lando wanted nothing more than to see her roaming the halls. He'd show her around, show her the office (once he'd made it his own), show her the library, the garden. He'd take her up to meet his mum, and his dad now, too.
The thought of her in his house, in his space, helping make it his own, it stirred something in him. Something that had him grabbing her waist before she could walk through the door and head out to work. "Lan!" She said in surprise as he nipped at her neck. "Calm down, birthday boy. I'll be back in a few hours."
He watched her go. But the moment the door shut, he sat on the sofa and opened the laptop.
Nobody had wished him a happy birthday, but Lando wasn't surprised. That wasn't how it worked in a family. It was business as usual, maybe a private celebration with the head of the family's partner.
This was already the best birthday Lando had ever had. He logged into the laptop, typed several different and intricate passwords into the software he had to get into.
Will and Max had left him messages, detailing what they had done to the house. You'll need to come by today and get yourself onto the system, Will had messaged.
A groan left Lando's lips. He threw his head back for just a moment, eyes shutting. Her rarely used car was parked just across the street, and Lando knew where she kept the keys. If he left how he could be back before returned from work.
Getting changed into his suit (the one she'd cleaned up for him), Lando grabbed her keys from the hook beside the door. He pocketed them and made his way out to her car.
Lando hadn't been back to the house in months. It didn't look any different from the day he'd left it.
By the gate waited Max Fewtrell. He looked at Lando with a frown before using the keypad to open the gate. As the gate opened, Max climbed into the car. "This isn't yours," he said.
"Nope," Lando replied and began driving up towards the house.
Still, Max looked at him,clearly waiting for something more. Something that Lando wouldn't give unprompted. "You haven't run off and become a car thief, have you?" Max challenged. "Because that would be really bad for business."
Lando couldn't help but laugh as he pulled up to the house. "Nope, this beauty belongs to the love of my life."
Beauty. Max snorted at that. The car was anything but beautiful. "If we get everything set up today, you gonna move her in?"
Truthfully, Lando didn't know. If he'd been any other rich guy living in this huge ass house, he would have done it in a heartbeat. But he wasn't just any other rich guy. His world was dangerous and he wanted her away from it. If he could have kept himself away, he would have.
Max led him to the security office. He sat Lando down in front of a bunch of monitors and began setting up the security system, coding it to his passwords and prints.
It was a long process, one I will not bore you with. Lando was nearly falling asleep by the time he was finally finished. He checked the watch on his wrist and couldn't wait to get back to her apartment, back to her. His baby.
But he wasn't quite ready yet. With Max trailing behind him, Lando walked to his bedroom.
How many mindless hookups had he had in this bed? "Get new sheets," he said and Max wrote it down. "And clear out half of my wardrobe."
Because Lando really couldn't stay away from her, could he? After spending the last few months living together, living in bliss, he couldn't imagine not waking up beside her every day.
So, Lando had his staff readying the house for her to move in. It was incredible to watch happen, all for his baby. And, as soon as that was done, he headed home, headed back to hers.
***
Things had felt normal, leaving the office. He stopped into the shops, got the birthday boy some birthday chocolates, and got some takeout for the both of them.
It was her usual route home and not too far at all. Although she lived in a sketchy area, she'd never felt unsafe on her walk home.
Until tonight.
Maybe it was paranoia. Ever since Lando had told her, she'd been a lot more wary. But she'd never felt this before, never this terrified.
She sped up her steps and quickly glanced back.
The person behind her with his hands shoved into their pockets sped up their steps, too. They crossed the street when she crossed the street and followed her around corners.
When she got to her street, she was running. She kept the takeout and the shopping held tight to her body as she legged it as fast as she could to her door.
The person behind her started running, too.
As soon as she got through the door of the apartment building, she pushed her way through and kicked it shut behind her, buying her just a few more seconds.
She managed to get her own door open before the person grabbed her. Throwing her body against the door she shut it, locked it and put the chain across.
Her chest was heaving as she dropped her bags and wandered into the kitchen. As she poured herself some water, Lando came running out of the bedroom. "Baby, what is it?" He called as he strode over.
She was shaking when Lando pulled her into his chest. "You're okay," he whispered and ran his hands through his hair. He ignored the smashed bottle of wine by the front door. "I've got you, baby."
She didn't tell him what happened that moment, couldn't bring herself to speak. Lando held her until she could and, when she did, he spent his night by the door, watching through the peephole with his gun pressed to the wood.
Tomorrow he'd get her out of here, get her somewhere safe.
a/n: i'm so sorry i haven't updated this one in over two weeks, my focus has been elsewhere lmao
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#lando norris#lando norris imagine#lando norris x reader#lando norris fluff#lando norris x you#ln4#ln4 imagine#ln4 x reader#f1#formula one#f1 imagine#formula 1#f1 x reader#formula one imagine#formula one x reader#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#mafia!f1#mafia!au
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my favourite interviewer.
pairings: lando norris x fellow driver’s sister/reader
warnings: jokes about adoption. mentions of bigotry but in reference to o/s’s experiences.
summary: the one where you interview your sister and your boyfriend. also part of the nepo!sister universe.
author’s note: i love nepo!sis/y/n. expect to see her more. also these interviews are quite short so imagine they’re longer and these are snippets. y/n is a better interviewer than i made her out to be 😔💔
liked by vogue, yourusername and 1,827,668 others.
oldersister: check out my photoshoot for vogue! and my following interview with my younger sister yourusername. it was definitely… interesting. link in bio <3.
user1: my favourite sisters made another appearance again!!
yourusername: DON’T! work with o/s! such a DIVA! rude as hell…..
-> oldersister: is this because i said pink wasn’t your colour?
-> yourusername: ALL COLOURS ARE MY COLOUR !! 😡
user2: y/n is so funny throughout this entire interview. a natural comedian.
user5: o/s saying that people don’t take her seriously as a driver is crazy!! she’s a two time champion!! what more does she need to do?
-> user6: it’s nothing that she needs to do. there really isn’t anything she can do to change their minds. it’s bigotry.
user3: o/s is so pretty. full time f1 driver and part-time model.
-> user4: one thing about her, lewis and zhou is that they’re all gonna serve looks and face. holy trinity.
liked by yourusername, gq and 1,223,378 others.
landonorris: thank u gq for letting me cover ur magazine and thank u to my gorgeous interviewer for taking the time out of her day to interview me. btw… are you single 😍
user5: this was so cute!! i love their dynamic.
yourusername: no i’m not single. i have a bf. be professional please.
-> landonorris: ain’t nobody care about him queen. i bet you i could beat his ass 😍
-> user1: i wish i had this confidence.
-> landonorris: leave me alone 😭😭🖕🏼
-> user2: poor lando. getting dragged by his fans, his girlfriend, his girlfriend’s fans and his girlfriend’s sister’s fans😭😭 rip bro 💔😔
-> yourusername: he’s fine y’all. please don’t call paw patrol.
user3: lando saying y/n was his favourite person regardless of what she does 🥺🥺
-> user4: when he cussed out y/n for calling herself boring 😭 he said that’s my gf don’t be disrespectful.
user7: y/n finessing a free lunch and dinner out of her boyfriend and her sister was my favourite part. yass queen 😍 take from the rich.
*liked by yourusername*
————————————————————————
MY NIGHT WITH O/S L/N.
by y/n l/n.
It’s the end of O/S’s Vogue’s shoot. She’s dressed in a black form-fitting silk suit with a pair of pale pink heels. I always knew that my sister was famous but seeing her in the middle of such magnitude truly reinforces that she is not just my older sister anymore. She’s bigger than that. We decide to duck behind the busy shoot into a side room to start our interview.
THURSDAY, PARIS, 11:34PM.
Y/N: Did you expect that I’d be the one interviewing you?
O/S L/N: Honestly? No! I’m happy though to see a familiar face. Pleasant surprise.
Y/N: I’m not gonna hold back on the questions though just because you’re my sister. I need you to know that.
O/S: Wouldn’t expect you to.
Y/N: Just for the record, she’s wearing my lipstick. I told her she’d look cute in it and she refused to listen to me.
O/S: I didn’t expect it to look so cute on me. I don’t wear super bright lipsticks, it’s a orangey-red shade for the people who can’t see it. I got the makeup team to source it for me and tried it on and perhaps… you were right. It’s grown on me.
Y/N: I’m always right.
O/S: Always is an understatement but … you have your moments.
Y/N: So, what would you say it’s like being the only female F1 driver?
O/S: A very unique position to be in. I’m lucky to have such a good support system in place. Y’know? Mom, Dad, my team and you.
Y/N: It’s a lot of pressure isn’t it?
O/S: Yes. As any high profile job is.
Y/N: How do you find the pressure when it comes to being a role model for younger girls?
O/S: It’s a responsibility I take very seriously. I think it’s so important to encourage young children, especially girls, to follow their dreams and help to provide avenues to make them accessible. I would love to see younger generations of drivers that come from a diverse array of backgrounds be in Formula One.
Y/N: Remember when you were younger and you’d go go-karting?
O/S: Yes.
Y/N: Dad would always make me come and watch you. It was so boring but he’d always get us ice cream afterwards if you’d won. That’s why I always rooted for you.
O/S: Says it all really.
Y/N: I was always a tennis fan. Maybe a little basketball or football. Dad used to joke that maybe you were the adopted one because no one else in the family knew about motorsports before you.
O/S: He still does! I found out about F1 at my school library at the age of like nine and begged Dad to take me. I’m very lucky that not only did we have the funds at the time but parents that supported us. He used to drive me everywhere. He still does drive me to the Grand Prix sometimes.
Y/N: Funny how little traditions stick with us, huh? Remember when you started making real money and would take us out for dinner after every win?
O/S: I was so excited that I had the money to treat you all.
Y/N: Definitely. What was the biggest challenge you’ve faced so far in your career?
O/S: It’ll sound trivial but… probably being taken seriously.
Y/N: What do you mean by that?
O/S: As a lot of women in male-dominated spaces might face, it’s hard to overcome the biases against my abilities. People said for a long time that I was only here because of diversity quotas.
Y/N: Even when you won?
O/S: Especially when I won. I like to prove people wrong. I’ve spent my whole career doing just that. I just wish it wasn’t so constant and tiring. I’m just doing my job but because of my womanhood and my blackness, it is immediately viewed as political. Overcoming the preconceptions has become a huge part of my journey.
Y/N: That’s annoying as fuck. I’ve seen it first hand too. You’re an incredible driver. I know I joke around with you and take the piss out of you but genuinely you do inspire me. I might not be racing cars anytime soon but I’ll always be your biggest fan.
O/S: Thanks Y/N. That means so much to me.
Y/N: Now onto the juicier stories. Who are you dating? For the readers who mightn’t know your personal life, I’ll spell it oit for them.
O/S: Oh No…
Y/N: You started off by dating your childhood sweetheart, Clark Jones, and then dated actor Paul Elordi.
O/S: I did. I am single now, as you’re aware.
Y/N: And she won’t let me set her up with anyone!
O/S: Just because you’re happy in monogamous bliss doesn’t mean the rest of us wanna be.
Y/N: Thanks for letting me interview you today O/S, it was definitely the best part of my day.
O/S: You were very good. I enjoyed the questions. Five stars.
Y/N: Wanna go out to eat? Your treat.
O/S: Of course, let me change into something more comfortable. These heels are gorgeous but they are killing me.
END OF INTERVIEW.
————————————————————————
MY MORNING WITH LANDO NORRIS.
by y/n l/n.
TUESDAY, LONDON, 10:34AM.
I was told to pretend to be professional and that I didn’t spend the night with my boyfriend so I left the room at around 7am just so that I could knock on the door again later in my interviewer mode. It’s the night after his photoshoot for an energy drink. Lando opens the door in a plain black tee, a hoodie wrapped around his waist and tracksuit bottoms. He isn’t wearing shoes. He lets me in and I sit on the sofa. We start the interview.
Y/N: Good Morning. Should we start the interview?
LANDO NORRIS: I’m ready whenever you are.
Y/N: I told O/S this but just because we know each other, don’t expect me to hold back on the questions. Don’t expect any special treatment just because I am your girlfriend.
LANDO: Wouldn’t dream of it.
Y/N: Alright, let’s get started. How did you feel about yesterday’s photoshoot?
LANDO: Tried something new and I think it turned out well. Got some cool shots. The energy was great and the team was incredible. It was a fun shoot. Couldn’t complain.
Y/N: Do you think you’re a better racer or model?
LANDO: I’d like to say model but I’d have to say racer.
Y/N: I think you could be a model.
LANDO: Even though you’re biased. I’ll accept that.
Y/N: Not biased at all actually. I’m here as Interviewer Y/N, not as your girlfriend Y/N.
LANDO: Wait. Can I flirt with Interviewer Y/N?
Y/N: No.
LANDO: Boooo!
Y/N: Let’s switch gears, what do you like to do when you’re unwinding?
LANDO: Well, Usually I’d say spending time with you but you’re not my girlfriend soo… I’m going to say streaming with my friends and playing video games. Also watching my girlfriend’s favourite reality shows.
Y/N: You’re a Teen Mom UK fan? And a Real Housewives fan? I thought you didn’t to like them.
LANDO: It’s part of the boyfriend playbook. Pretend you’re bored with those sorts of shows but secretly, you’re incredibly into it. I have to keep up with your interests somehow and I picked the most interesting ones.
Y/N: I don’t blame you. Alright, one more question before I go back to being boring girlfriend Y/N and I have to give back this super cool voice recorder.
LANDO: Girlfriend Y/N isn’t boring to me. She’s actually my favourite person. Don’t talk shit about my girl.
Y/N: Fine. She’s not boring. She’s just less of a technophile.
LANDO: I’ll accept that.
Y/N: My last question is what’s your favourite thing about driving for Formula One?
LANDO: Besides the thrill of racing? And the part where I’m living my childhood dream? Definitely the fans. Their support and energy help fuel me on the track. Plus, I get to travel the world while doing what I love. I think that’s the ideal world for a lot of people. I’m very lucky.
Y/N: I couldn’t agree more. Thank you for letting me ask you those questions. Now, time for me to go back to the girlfriend version of me.
LANDO: Don’t sell yourself short. You’re always my favourite person regardless of what version you are.
Y/N: Flattery will get you everywhere, won’t it?
LANDO: Hey! It’s not flattery if it’s the truth.
Y/N: Guess you’re not just a pretty face huh. Don’t worry, I’ll keep our reality television show marathons a secret between me, you and all the millions of GQ magazine readers.
LANDO: You’re an angel. Lunch?
Y/N: Only if you’re paying.
LANDO: Always.
END OF INTERVIEW.
————————————————————————
#jayde’s works ☆#nepo sister universe ✽#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 smau#formula 1 x reader#f1 fanfic#formula 1 imagine#formula one x reader#lando norris social media au#lando norris x you#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#lando norris#lando x reader#ln4 x reader#ln4 imagine#ln4 fic#ln4#ln4 x you#ln4 x y/n
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all of my heart ~ carlos sainz (cs55)
my masterlist | my f1 masterlist
pairing: carlos sainz jr. x fem!reader
summary: a short story of carlos becoming a father
words: 2K
warnings: one tiny swear word in spanish ig, otherwise nothing, just fluff fluff fluff and dad!carlos which deserves its own warning tbh
a/n: i know you love the dad!driver trope, @vetteltea, which is why i dedicate this blurb to you (though i think you'd maybe prefer this to be with seb now that i think about it), as a thank you for all the amazing fanfic you provide this fandom with. i love you so much, you're so talented, so inspiring, and i truly wish to be like you. <33
please, don't be a ghost reader, leave a comment or rb!
Carlos is still a little out of breath when he hears it for the first time.
A delayed red-eye flight and an excruciating traffic jam caused him to almost miss this appointment. The first he finally has the chance to attend – having had a race when the initial one happened –, and he almost missed it.
As a drop of sweat rolls down the side of his face, obvious sign of how only seconds ago he was still running up the stairs of the hospital, a smile forms on his lips. Looking at her, lying down, the screen beside the bed showing a picture of their baby.
Well, at least they say it's that. For the love of God, Carlos can't see anything on it. He still nods along with a wide smile when the nurse asks him if he sees it. The focus shouldn't be on him and whether he can see it or not, but on his girlfriend.
God, this woman. He hasn't seen her in over a month now. And this is how they meet again: when they meet the little one officially as well, though on a screen only. Hell, the last time he saw her, they had no clue of this wonderful piece of news. From watching her wave with a smile through the glass at the airport, before he turned a corner towards his flight and disappeared, fast forward to now, when he catches sight of her lying form, just as gorgeous as ever, if not more, with a baby growing inside her. A creation by him and her.
They're gonna have a child, Carlos thinks, and as if it's the first time he realises this, his heart stops for a second. In happiness, in awe, in fear.
Because as the image on the screen gets displayed, and Carlos gets lost in-between words like embryo and transvaginal scan, suddenly the doctor announces that the baby indeed has a heartbeat, listen, you can hear it. And this one sentence, followed by the almost inaudible little thuds, is enough to make everything feel real.
Of course, he already knew what the positive pregnancy test meant, the one she showed him first on a FaceTime call, then sent as a separate picture later. But this, hearing that tiny heartbeat, it made everything even more real. They had actual proof now of what is going to happen in the near future. It might not have been planned, but it doesn't make it any less sweeter.
With his heart beating away in a rapid rhythm, he feels his facial muscles pull as his lips curve into a smile, so wide that it even showcases his pearly white teeth.
When he sees her the next time, the first thing Carlos does is place his palm against her tummy. The bump is already visible – well not in the hoodie she's currently wearing, but it's there underneath, he knows –, and he's been dreaming about holding it for many, many days now.
She lets out a giggle, throwing her head back a little, having expected a kiss upon her arrival, not this. Carlos practically doesn't pay her any attention, his sole focus is on talking with his baby.
Later on in the car she inquires jokingly the reason behind why she's not the first to be greeted by him, and he explains with a serious tone why that's the priority. "You get all this time to speak to her and bond with her, and she's already inside you which is a bonus, but she has to know exactly who her father is."
"She, huh?" she raises a teasing eyebrow, and he simply smiles, shrugging in a nonchalant way.
"I can feel it in my bones."
He looks so self-assured that she can't help but lean in and press her lips against his cheek. She still can't believe she'll get to have a kid with this man.
Doubt starts rising in his mind when they reach the third trimester. The date underlined in bright red in his calendar creeping closer and closer, making him more self-conscious and unsure than he's ever felt.
What if he won't be a good father? What if his job gets in the way of his child really feeling close to him? What is he supposed to do anyway? He already has no idea what he's doing in this whole pregnancy, safe to say, how is it going to be when he finally gets to hold the baby as well?
He's read multiple long articles, spending every flight he's had to take nose deep in his phone, until his eyes hurt and words started to lose their meaning. He wants to be the best father he can be.
This even includes several calls to his parents, asking for advice from them as well, trusting and valuing their words far more than the ones he can find online. He knows that his parents proved already that their methods work, they've been good parents to him and his siblings.
Still, the only thing that seems to reassure him is that they – the baby and him – have her. His superwoman of a girlfriend, who simply seems like she was actually born to do this, to be a mother, taking every obstacle in their way with a cheerful step and a smile reaching from ear to ear on her face.
How did he deserve her?
As he's gritting his teeth to stop himself from letting out a groan while the pain he's feeling in his hand spreads – mierda, this woman is strong – he repeats one sentence as a mantra. Only to keep him from worrying his heart out for the love of his life, who's currently letting out loud gasps and occasional curses, her eyes teary and her cheeks red from the strain of pushing and pushing and pushing.
I hope the baby looks like her.
Why is this so important to him? He has no idea. He doesn't even know why the thought popped into his mind in the first place. He just knows he has to keep on repeating it to divert his mind, otherwise he'll lose his sanity.
Simply, he has to focus on picturing a baby with her eyes, her hair colour, the elegant line of her nose, the curve of her lips, her rosy cheeks. Every inch of their baby looking like a mini-her. Because what would be better than looking at his girlfriend and marvel at her beauty? Of course, looking at her and his daughter, and seeing the exact same beauty? Sure, it would be nice to have a tiny detail of him in their baby girl somewhere, just so that it would be obvious to the whole wide world that this is his baby, that the woman giving birth to her now is his woman. Maybe the exact copy of his eye colour? Or his locks of hair, silky and thick? It doesn't matter. Honestly, who cares about how she looks, he will love her no matter what. With his whole heart, with more love, a deeper connection than he's ever felt before.
Minutes pass, then some more, until it feels like an eternity has gone by since they arrived to the hospital. But then he hears it – crying. The unmistakable baby sound, entering the haze of his mind like a sharp knife, bringing him back to reality in a millisecond.
Everything seems to quicken up, and the next thing he knows is that the bundle of his child is placed in his arms, and after that initial wave of slightly terrified chills running through his body, immediately a mixture of relief, joy and tranquility spreads in his veins. He has no idea why he was so scared this whole time. This is... subconscious. Instinctive. Meant to be.
In that very moment he wordlessly promises the baby to always be there for her, always looking out for her, always caring and loving her with all of his heart. He won't let any harm ever reach her.
"Congratulations, Mr. Sainz, on the birth of your son," the doctor approaches him, and that last word bursts the bubble Carlos has been surrounded with.
Son?
His eyes widen, lips fall slightly open in shock – right until he hears the exhausted sounding but unmistakable giggle coming from the bed. "I told you," she grins.
"A boy," he mumbles dreamily, glancing at his girlfriend, lips curving into a smile matching hers.
"Good thing I came prepared with boy names as well," she continues, slight pants leaving her lungs still.
The memory when she practically wanted to force him into choosing a male name as well, just in case – because he was so sure about their baby being a girl that he didn't even want to spend a moment thinking about names for the other sex –, pops into his mind, and he shakes his head. He was wrong.
Tiny feet patter on the floor, growing louder and louder, before a second later they suddenly cease and get replaced by a high-pitched giggle.
She glances up just as Carlos appears in the doorway to the kitchen, their son hanging from his arms, his little cheeks red from all the laughter. Her heart swells at the sight and sounds, her eyes shine bright, connecting with his easily – the love of her life.
Miracle. That's what the little boy is in their lives.
Watching Carlos be a father has been the best thing she's ever had the chance to witness. The way he plays with him, practically going back to being a child, his sole focus being on entertaining his son.
The Sainz household they established not too long ago is filled with laughter every day, the walls reverberating with the joyous sounds until they fill their hearts.
"When's dinner ready, mi amor?" Carlos leans in, pressing a loving kiss on her temple.
She cheerfully smiles, her fingers moving to caress the impossibly soft, dark brown hair on the little boy's head. "A few minutes," she replies, catching her fiancé's eyes once more. "If you two help me set the table, we can eat sooner."
Her son nods eagerly, as much as his three-year-old energy allows, and waves his tiny arms to wordlessly tell his father to put him down on the ground. Carlos obeys, then opens the cupboard to find the appropriate plates – all plastic, reserved for the times when it's only the three of them eating, to allow the young one to help them without the worry of him breaking anything.
She watches from the corner of her eyes as her two boys move towards the dining table, where Carlos lifts their son to stand on a chair, this way allowing him to reach the tabletop. His hands never leave the boy's waist, just in case, and when he's finished setting the plates, helps him back on the ground.
"Good job, chiquito," Carlos holds his palm out at the proper height.
"Gracias, papá," the little one slaps into his father's hand eagerly, making his mother smile so wide it's close to actually hurt the muscles in her cheeks.
They walk back to the kitchen counter with proud looks on their faces, and she places the bowl of salad in Carlos' hands. "It's too heavy for you, pumpkin," she explains when her son opens his mouth to complain.
"Te adoro," Carlos steals a melting kiss from her lips as his fingers get a hold of the bowl, before leaning back and fully taking it from her. I adore you.
With her heart fluttering with nothing but pure happiness and blood rushing to her face, she enjoys the way that bashful smile forms on her lips that only he can achieve. Her gaze follows his movements, the way the T-shirt clings to his arms, to his back muscles, and how the soft material ripples with every move he makes. He is breathtaking. He truly is, because unawares, she lets out a soft gasp watching him and has to endure the knowing glance and that smirk he casts her way above his shoulder. He knows her too well.
She shakes her head, attention going back to her son still standing by her feet, patiently waiting for his next task. A perfect mini-him, way more than she could've ever asked for.
A perfect child, a perfect man to call the love of her life, a perfect life. And it's all hers.
a/n: i'm back baby!! i've been gone for the longest time ever (since last summer) but i'm in my final year of uni and i had to write my thesis too so hopefully that's a good enough excuse. writer's block ain't fun still. it really just feels nice to post something again.
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#carlos sainz#cs55 fic#blurb#carlos sainz x reader#carlos sainz fic#carlos sainz x you#carlos sainz fanfic#carlos sainz x y/n#carlos sainz jr#carlos sainz imagine#carlos sainz fluff#carlos sainz jr x reader#carlos sainz jr x you#sainz x reader#carlos sainz f1#cs55#f1#f1 fanfic#f1 fiction#f1 fic#f1 imagine#f1 x you#f1 x reader#formula one#formula one fanfic#formula one fic#formula one x reader#formula one x you#formula 1#formula 1 x reader
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First Mother's Day
Note: I decided to do a special post in what is now my OP Men as Dads series, and do a Mother's Day headcanon/blurb post. I understand this day can be rough for some, but I hope that whether you celebrate or not, whether your mom is in your life or not, that you have a lovely day otherwise and if this isn't your cup of tea, I hope there's something else that can entertain you today. <3
If you'd like my thoughts on other OP men as dads (Shanks, Kid, Usopp, etc.), please just ask and I'll give an answer! I'll include Luffy in this despite my viewing him as a son or brother, but it probably won't be x Reader based. Requests are being worked on as well.
I am using baby Ace image to break up this and the actual content from now on lol. He's just so cute. 🥺
Ace is going to go all out for your first Mother’s Day. He’s buying flowers, candies, and cards, all from him and your daughter. Even if you tell him you don’t want anything except a quiet day at home with the two of them, he’s buying you gifts.
He’ll likely buy you a bracelet with your daughter’s name on it, or maybe a charm bracelet with her birthstone, so you can add any more in the future if/when you have more children. Ace will try to make you breakfast in bed, but he ends up burning the bacon to the point your smoke alarm goes off, and you have to open all the windows to air out the house the rest of the day (at least it’s a nice day out). He orders out breakfast from a nearby diner to make sure you have something that morning, he’ll even try to take your daughter out for a walk or to Luffy and Sabo’s place for the day to give you a break, but you insist on going along.
“You should have the day off though!”
“Ace, I don’t want a day off. Rogue is only three month’s old, and I’d much rather spend the day with you and her than alone. That’s not a fun Mother’s Day to me.”
The three of you end up at Luffy and Sabo’s place, the two uncles absolutely adoring their niece as she coos and lets them hold her without any crying or fussing. When you get home later that night, Ace watches you get Rogue ready for bed. He knew from the start that you would be a great mother, and sometimes, he just wishes his own mother was around to see it, and to meet her granddaughter.
~~
Law has a plan that gets thrown off when your son decides to be born a week earlier than expected, on Mother’s Day itself. He still tries to do something for you, even though the original plan of taking you out for brunch and giving you a quiet day at home while you waited for your baby to be born was now out the window. He should’ve known, ever since he met Luffy all his plans go haywire at some point. At least it led to you two meeting eventually.
Once you’ve gone to sleep and your son Rosi is in the nursery at the hospital, Law slips out to quickly put something together. He has a gift for you, a mother’s ring that will fit into your wedding band, he just needs flowers, or chocolate, or something to add to it. He doesn’t really like to be cliché, but he ends up with flowers, at least they’re something pretty you can have in your hospital room and when you’re released to take your baby boy home.
The girl in the hospital gift shops tells him he looks happy, even if Law doesn’t really show it. She swears it’s just something in the way he speaks while he asks her to pull together a small bouquet for you. He is happy, beyond that actually, knowing you two have a son, you both are healthy and safe. He has a family again, his very own. The flowers and ring aren’t enough to convey his gratitude to you for giving him a family to call his own, but it’s a start. There will be plenty more times for him to do so in the future.
When Law gets back to your room, you’re awake again and in the middle of nursing your son, a nurse helping you when you need it. She notices the flowers he’s brought and leaves you both with a smile, saying she’ll come back in a few minutes.
“Where’d you get off to?”
“Had to get something,” Law comes over and presses a kiss to your forehead, giving you a smile, “Happy Mother’s Day.”
~~
Penguin has thought of what to do every day since your daughter Wren was born. He’s come up with multiple ways to celebrate your first Mother’s Day, but nothing seems just right to him. He’s thought of brunch, breakfast in bed, giving you a day out with your friends while he watches your daughter, or even a weekend trip away, leaving your baby with her grandparents, but nothing works out. Restaurants and diners he calls are all booked up already, you hate eating in bed because of crumbs, your friends all had plans either with their own mothers or their spouses and kids, and your own parents were out of town for the next two weeks.
He ends up with no real plans for the day and feels terrible about it as it approaches. Its going to be another normal Sunday for the three of you, he hates the idea of that because it’s your first Mother’s Day, it should be special, shouldn’t it?
When the day finally comes around, Penguin is up first, hearing Wren’s little babbles through the baby monitor, and going to pick her up. At nine-months-old she’s figured out how to stand up on her own, still no steps being taken by herself, but when she sees Penguin enter the nursery, she grins and starts bouncing up and down, holding the rail of her crib and shouting “da” over and over. It makes Penguin smile as he picks her up, kissing her chubby cheek which makes her squeal.
“Good morning, Wren! Let’s keep quiet, mommy’s still asleep, okay?”
“Da!”
He laughs a bit, lifting her up over his head to make her giggle again, as she reaches her little hands towards his face.
“You know…a great gift would be for you to say ‘mama’ for the first time, yeah?”
“Ma?”
“Yeah, you’re close! Now, just say ‘mama’.”
Wren sticks her tongue out while she tries to speak, Penguin helping her along for several minutes until she finally says something close to ‘mama’.
“Mm…ma.”
Penguin sighs a bit, but nods as he brings Wren down and kisses her cheek again, making her giggle as she wraps her arms around his neck.
“You two sure have been having fun.”
Both look to you in the doorway, no shortage of smiles among the three of you, as Wren lights up and starts to reach for you, trying to say she wants you to hold her. You both take just a moment too long to get her to you, and it makes her fuss and kick her legs a bit.
“Ma…ma!”
You didn’t even get her in your arms, you and Penguin both freezing in place for a moment while Wren continues to fuss and whine, almost in tears since you haven’t held her yet.
“Mama!”
“I—”
“Her first word!!” You quickly take Wren from Penguin and hug her close, kissing her cheeks and forehead telling her how proud you are of your little girl. “This is the best Mother’s Day gift!”
At least that worked out, even if he didn’t have a plan in mind.
~~
Sanji wouldn’t have waited nearly a year to celebrate you as a mother if you hadn’t forced him to. With fraternal twins to now take care of and raise, you’ve both been through bouts of exhaustion and elation over the two babies you brought into the world. Sora and Angel, your precious blessings, were nearly a year old, and you’d already started planning a birthday party for them, completely ignoring the fact Mother’s Day was a few weeks prior to their turning one-year-old.
Sanji didn’t forget, he had a plan, one that included your twins scribbling away to make cards for you, though he didn’t expect the two to be so fussy about it and mark each other up more than the papers. He learned very quickly to not give babies or toddlers markers, unless they were washable. You still don’t fully realize how Sora ended up with a bright green mark over his right eye and Angel had a hot pink line down her left arm.
The rest was simple, breakfast in bed, made by your professional chef husband of course, and whatever else you wanted for the rest of the day. If you want to lay in bed and watch TV without interruption, he’d put your twins in the stroller and take them to the park. If you wanted to turn your phone off and sleep the day away, he’d take over and leave you alone until you needed anything. Whatever you want, it’s a day to celebrate you as the mother of his children, he wasn’t going to deny you anything.
But when you do tell him what you want, after finishing off breakfast, Sanji’s a bit surprised.
“Are you…sure?”
“Mm-hm,” you nod and try to keep Sora from grabbing the butter knife on the tray, making him whine while Angel slept in Sanji’s arms, “I want to spend the day with the three of you.”
“You…do that every day though, my love.”
“So?” smiling, you kiss the top of Sora’s head and watch Angel as she starts to stir awake, rubbing her eyes with her tiny hands, “You guys are my family. I hate the idea of not being with the three of you today, so I’d rather just spend it like we always do.”
Sanji nods a bit, seeming to understand, greeting Angel when she wakes up fully with a kiss to the forehead. It makes you happy to watch him with both your children, but especially your daughter. How could he ever think you’d want to spend the day alone? Not when you had these two blessings as your children and Sanji as your husband.
“We could still take these two to the park later, maybe burn off some energy so they nap at a decent time.”
“Of course! Whatever you want, my love.”
~~
Zoro doesn’t even fully realize that its Mother’s Day until Nami says something to him. The past few weeks with your son have been exhausting for both of you, but he can’t believe he forgot that this was a thing. He has nothing planned and isn’t sure what to do. He’s running out of time, it’s literally just a few hours away before Nami offers to take you out for the day wherever the Sunny docks in the morning. Zoro will stay with your son on the ship, and you’ll get a day off from being a mom and wife, the two think it’s the best thing to give you on such short notice, though Nami does up the interest on his debt again for this.
You don’t even get to say good morning to your husband or son before Nami has dragged you off to whatever she has planned, its really just a normal girl’s day out with shopping and lunch. Most of what you buy isn’t even for you, it’s baby items that you need or clothes you think are adorable. It just ended up making you miss your son more as the day went on.
When you do get back to the ship, your son is wailing and no one has been able to calm him down, not even Zoro while he tries his hardest and lightly bounces your baby as he shushes him gently. As soon as you drop your bags you’re taking him from your husband and holding him close to calm him down.
“Shh, shh, it’s okay, mommy’s here, Keitaro. I’m back.”
He slowly calms down once he realizes its you, burying his little face in your shoulder and keeping a tight grip on your shirt. When you ask Zoro what the deal was with Nami dragging you off the ship so early, before you even had the chance to hold Keitaro that day, he explains the situation and it just makes you tilt your head.
“…it’s Mother’s Day?”
You hadn’t even realized it. That just makes Zoro feel bad that it caused your son such distress, and he and Nami both apologize for not talking to you about it beforehand. They both assumed the other had discussed it with you. You didn’t really care to celebrate, all that mattered was being with your husband and son, the rest of your day spent with just the two of them.
Note 2: Out here dropping names like I didn't say I'd make a post about that at some point lol. So, the firstborns in order of character are Portgas D. Rogue, Trafalgar D. Rosinante (called Rosi cause it's too damn cute), Wren, Sora and Angel, and Roronoa Keitaro.
#one piece x reader#trafalgar law x reader#zoro x reader#roranoa zoro x reader#law x reader#sanji x reader#penguin x reader#op penguin x reader#reader insert#black leg sanji x reader#portgas d ace x reader#ace x reader#mother's day#op men as dads
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