Tumgik
#i forgot about fathers day last year
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halfelven · 1 year
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absolutely devastating to lay flowers and pay respects at my grandmother’s funeral as the “representative” of my “family” entirely alone. all the other cousins with at least a parent. even the second cousins with someone with them. placing flowers on her grave and stepping back as the only person with no one to turn to. everyone hugging each other and just standing there
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dirtytransmasc · 4 months
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(personal vent about my sack of shit father ruining christmas again)
me, my fathers only "daughter"/child:
helps my grandmother for weeks to prepare for his christmas party that neither of us wanted (he goes way over the top. invites his friends that are all loud drunks. cooks food we don't like. keeps the whole house up partying into the early hours of the morning. makes a mess and refuses to clean up after himself. doesn't spend time with us and instead hangs out with his friends, even for family holidays and events. etc.
me and my grandmother are disabled, constantly in pain/have stomach issues, and generally just want to be left on our own for holidays, so the whole event is just awful for us)
has been up since 6* in the morning, continuing to prepare for his party so he doesn't throw a hissy fit, running on only a few hours of sleep*, running around from store to store, cleaning, cooking, decoaring, etc.
spends hours trying to wake him up.
after doing everything I am capable of skill/strength wise, I took a two hour power nap before guests come.
helps serve dinner, makes drinks, fulfills every task my father gives me to maintain the delicate peace in the household, cause my grandmother wants to murder him*.
does all of this with no complaint.
my father:
promises his full and undivided attention and help the day before the party (this is the only day he's offered the slightest help outside of making a huge dinner no one but he and his friends wanted), he then breaks this promise, does nothing, delegates every task my grandmother has given him to me, and then leaves at 6 at night to go party, ignoring the amount of cooking he needs to finish.
doesn't come home for almost 12 hours (he came home at 6am), waking me up*, sleeps till 1, leaving me and my gradnmother do 90% of the things that needed to be done today (as his guests are coming at 4).
invites more friends than he originally told us about, ditching us after dinner (which we served) to go hang out outside and blast music so loud it shakes the house.
and then complains that I "slept all day" and "did nothing" so now I need to clean the whole kitchen and all the dishes of over 15 guests, not him, the reason there's such a mess to clean.
he continues to demand this even after something he cooks, knowing I hate it and it makes me feel ill, and stinks up the whole kitchen, making me go lie down because it made me nauseous and gave me a migraine.
I then get to spend the rest of my christmas eve cleaning, doing dishes, while barely holding back tears.
thanks dad, for ruining an already awful christmas, you fucking asshole.
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Sorry don't mind me I'm just still in shock that the Kenobi series is real
#star wars#kenobi series#we got that. we truly got genuinely authentic true-to-the-heart-of-the-franchise star wars media#with my BOY obi-wan!! and anakin!!! and ewan and hayden!! and we got to see obi-wan have a relationship with leia (!!!!!!)#and we got to see him heal!!!#i just...i just can't believe it like we are living in the era of the final big chapter of their story#we're still freaking out about rots from 2005 sure but we also have something new that is made for *us*#we are this star wars generation and we got to be here for the last chapter of the entire 6-movie saga. it was made for us#i'm losing it#little 11-year-old me who journaled as a made-up star wars character...little 9-year-old me who wrote her first fanfic about star wars#little 13-year-old me who never forgot about how the clone wars series never got an ending and wished that it could have (and it did)#little me who watched the original trilogy on vhs and fell in love with it. who freaked out when vader said 'i am your father'#little me who made up a parody song about star wars and still remembers it to this day (it's called 'yoda was a puppet')#(it started as a rip-off of the veggietales song 'jonah was a prophet' and evolved from there lol)#little me who was OBSESSED with obi-wan and always related to him but thought i'd never get to see any more of him#and now my dream's come true#and i just feel a lot of things about it#all those younger versions of me got what they wanted. i got to witness something worthy of being that final chapter as it happened#i've never been happier to be a star wars fan#obi wan kenobi#kay has a party in the tags#kay can i just catch my breath for a second
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hoshigray · 6 months
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𝐎𝐥𝐝 𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐬, 𝐒𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐓𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐬 | toji fushiguro
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𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Your ex-husband bringing the kids over for trick-or-treating is one thing; him wanting to spend the night at your place is another. But it's just for the night. There's no way one night can rekindle some old feelings...right?
𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: ex-husband! Toji x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - the reader is around their mid-30s - Tsumiki (age 11) and Megumi (age 9) - mutual pining - kissing/makeout sessions - unprotected sex - Daddy kink - breast sucking + nipple play - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (f! receiving) - spooning + mating press - cervix fucking - breeding kink - praise - clitoral play (pressing and grinding) - pet names (baby, good girl, mama, princess, sweetie, sweet thing) - you and Toji have been divorced for five years - cameos: Gojo, Utahime and Mei Mei - mention of drool/spit and tears - humor bc I'm [not] funny.
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.6k (....dawg.)
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: happy Halloween, everyone!! so, randomly missed writing ex-husband! toji bc it's lowkey my favorite, soooo yeah, this is what we're doing to celebrate the end of the month! anywho, happy October, beautiful ppl, and tysm for reading my works!! Alsooo, ty for 2.8k!!!
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“Trick-or-treat!!”
“Gasp—Oh my goodness!” 
“We came to celebrate Halloween! Also, Megumi forgot his toothbrush here again.”
Opening your door to children at the sunset of Halloween day isn’t out of the ordinary or anything special. However, it’s always a pleasant surprise when it’s two kids you hold dear to your heart. You greet them with a hug, two siblings you know too well to say you’re acquainted with. If anything, you’re practically family. 
The raven-haired brother, referred to as Megumi, speaks up. “It’s not my fault! Dad was rushing me last time.”
“Because you had to bring your stuffed animals last time, holding us back for your baseball practice.” Tsumiki, the older sister, snapped back. The two argue amongst themselves in front of you as you try to mediate. It’s no avail until another voice comes to the fray.
“All right, chill out, you two.” The voice belonged to the person approaching the porch stairs, your eyesight capturing the familiar figure walking up with two duffle bags. The one standing tall before you was the father of the children, Toji Fushiguro. Who’s also known as your one and only former husband. “Get inside and finish y’r homework, or else we’re goin’ back home.” 
The siblings stop bickering and head inside, taking off their shoes at the foyer and walking upstairs. Now that they’re gone, you turn to the man with the jet-black hair, his viridian orbs focused on you. The weather was chilly, so the man wore his usual dark denim jacket over his plain black sweatshirt, matching his jeans. “You look good, big guy. What’s in the bags?”
He greets you with a curled lip, and the scar on the side of his lip lifts. “Picked them up from their after-school sports, so it’s their sports gear and costumes for tonight. Mind helpin’ me here?” 
“Hmmm,” you merge your facial expressions to that of faux pondering, turning your back to Toji. “Nah, can’t. Got dinner to finish making.”
“Hmph, should’ve known.” He makes his way through between you and the front door. “Wouldn’t wanna break your pretty nails carrying heavy shit, huh, princess?” 
You glare at him using the nickname, hating his patronizing gaze. “From what I remembered, you would never let me carry the heavy stuff because you thought I was too fragile and easy to break. So how about that, Mr. Knight in Shining Armor?”
“Really? I don’t remember sayin’ all that before. You must’ve put me in a spell.” 
“Probably, I’ve been told I’m quite cute~.”
“Mmm, nah, more like an old hag of a witch.” Toji barks a laugh at your offended reaction, and he immediately ducks and heads for the stairs when you throw a sandal at him.
“At the very least, say I’m a cute witch, fucker.” You say the final word under your breath, grabbing the sandal you threw and heading back to the kitchen.
To say you and Toji were acquainted with one another would be the biggest understatement of the century. The two of you met a decade ago, fell madly in love, and married within a year of the relationship. When you tied the knot, Tsumiki had to have been two years old, and Megumi just turned one year old. You two had been together for four years after that, and you could confidently say those were one of [if not THE] best years of your life. You often second-guessed yourself being in a relationship with someone who had children, fearing that they wouldn’t like you or ignore you.
However, those worries were blown right away as the days went by. Every time you spent time with the children brought you three closer than ever; it was to the point that they saw you as their mother. How sweet! And there’s no denying that Toji loved you. The man would break someone’s nose for you  — yes, it happened before, and it wasn’t pretty — for you were his sweet little thing that kept him going.  
Well, if it was so great, why the divorce? Let’s just say you weren’t Toji’s first love. That title would have to be awarded to the Megumi’s mother. Even in her unfortunate passing, you can tell that Toji loved that woman like no other. It didn’t make you jealous or anything, seeing the man you love still mourn for a dead woman. Hell, you’d probably do the same if you were him. But, you can’t lie; it felt like you were cast over a “shadow” when it came to her influence. It was damn near suffocating to bear, especially in those four years of marriage. So, for your sake and his aching heart, you pulled him aside and suggested a divorce. And Toji didn’t fight you on the proposition, signing the papers and setting you free from the thick air.
Although things ended between you two, that didn’t mean things stopped being what they were. If anything, it was as if nothing happened at all. Even if you still don’t live under the same roof, you still make time to hang with the Fushiguros, whether invited to some occasion or exchange phone calls or texts to check up on them. Even now, five years after your separation, it warms your heart knowing that you get to interact with the people you care about. 
There are moments you find yourself missing living under the same roof with all three of them and living alone can be pretty lonely. But all in all, as long as they’re comfortable and trust you enough to be around, there’s no need to change things up again. Like right now — the four of you sit at the dinner table eating before the kids go off trick-or-treating.
“Are you going to trick-or-treat with us, Y/n?” The brown-haired child sitting next to you asks while finishing up her dinner. 
“Sorry, not this time, gotta be at a Zoom meeting for my job in a few minutes. But I do have someone else to take my place. Gojo will be here at around—Why are you two making that face?” You stop mid-sentence to notice Megumi and Toji at the other side of the table, displaying disgusted facial expressions at the mention of the white-haired other’s name.
“Why him?” They said in unison.
“Why not??” You question their irritation.
“He’s so annoying…” Again, in unison. Proof enough that they’re father and son.
You sigh as you get up to take your plate to the sink. “Oh, come on, you two, it’s not like he’ll be with you guys the entire night. He has a party at a friend’s he’s going to later.” 
“Isn’t he too old to trick-or-treat?” Tsumiki questions, noting that Gojo is way past his undergraduate years. 
“He is, but whatever gets that prick any free sweets,” Toji answers his daughter before getting up to put his dish in the sink. 
You exit the kitchen, head into the living room, and sit on the couch. The laptop you had placed there was ready to open and unlock, and you clicked on applications and windows to look through before your meeting started in the next three to two minutes. He should be here about—
DING-DONG!!
Now.
Right on cue, you motion for Toji to grab the front door, and he follows your command. “Kids, Gojo’s here!” You shout out to the two kids who still sit at the table. “When you’re done eating, you can go upstairs and put your costumes on. But whoever finishes last has to do the dishes.” You can hear commotion from the table as the brunette rushes to put her dish in the sink and dash for the stairs. Megumi groans to himself; you giggle when you hear him mutter an “Aww man…”
You pull out your headphones to connect to your laptop, put them in their respective ears, and prepare yourself for the meeting. Ignoring the faint passive-aggressive tones of your ex-husband when greeting Gojo at the door…
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
Your eyes flutter open, noticing the lighting change around the living room. The orange sunlight no longer decorated the space, substituted with the gradual darkness that overtakes you. The only source of light you can figure out is the flashing from the television screen.
Aside from the TV, there are no other signs of life. There aren’t any signs of Tsumiki or Megumi around playing or causing a raucous. It could only mean the two are still trick-or-treating with Gojo. 
One blink, two blinks. I must’ve fallen asleep after the meeting… You hum while sinking to the couch, burying your face into the pillow. 
But…since when did your pillow act like it was breathing with a heartbeat? And…I smelt that cologne before…How?
“Ya awake now?”
You raise your head, realizing you are not lying on your couch. Technically, you were; however, you were lying on something else on the furniture with you – more like someone. 
It’s then you realize that you were lying on Toji during your entire slumber, him leaning on the end of the couch, one leg spread to make room for you to sleep on him while you sit on the other. And you can guess that you had your head on his chest, snuggling up to his warm figure. He looks at you with his green eyes now darkened by the room, yet you can see their glow from the television light. And that small smile he gives you, the scar on the right side of his lip lifted upward. The familiar butterflies in your stomach flutter like before. Like old times sake…That must be embarrassing, huh?
You frantically try to get off of him, “Sorry about that, I thought—“
“No, no,” Toji places a stern hand on your back, keeping you from moving further. “You were comfortable.” 
You stare at him for a few seconds until your face contours to a look, and a smile starts to creep up while you situate yourself back to your original position, pressing your face back on his chest to listen to the beats of his heart again. “I recall having this couch all to myself not too long ago, so where’d you come from?”
“Well, I wanted to watch some sports highlights, but I figured you’d kick my ass if I pulled you off and had you sleep on the floor instead.” With the click of your tongue, he chortles. You bet your ass I would. “So, I decided to have ya sleep on me while I watch TV.”
“What’s wrong with the other side of the couch? It’s quite vacant and enough for a big guy like you.” 
“True,” his hand rubs circles on your back, an old habit he did when he used to have you like this. “But then I’d be lonely.” 
You titter. “That’s big for someone who said he thrives on being alone.”
“I thrive being alone when I’m working.” You’re glad he can’t see your eyes roll; he’d probably grab you by the cheeks like a child. “Besides, why would I wanna be alone when I have you for myself.”
And there it is, your cheeks begin to warm up. Or was it because you’re so close to him that his heat is transferring to you? That’s probably it, yeah. Let’s change the subject…”How long was I out for? I remember the kids left around 7:30-ish.”
“Mmm, it’s going to eleven right now.”
Three and a half hours? Damn. “It’s past their bedtime.”
Toji scoffs. The abrupt motion of his chest rising is satisfying in a way that makes you even more comfortable. “You still think they’re gonna sleep with all that sweet shit they got?” He snickers some more as you shake your head.
“They know better. When you guys get home, be sure to put their candy bags on the top shelf of the closet for the morning.” 
“Still traumatized from that one time?” 
“Uhhh, yes??” The memory flashes to you for a quick moment, but the dread from before still haunts you. Megumi was six years old and Tsumiki seven, returning home from trick-or-treating and immediately tasting their labor from that night. However, what you didn’t expect was for them both to eat almost half their bags. Let’s just say, thanks to their sugar rushes, they didn’t drop dead until the hour hand touched two of the morning. “Unless it’s the weekend, never again.”
The way the older man chuckles is so therapeutic — it nearly makes you want to fall asleep again. “You weren’t the one chasin' Megumi all over the place tryin' to get him to sleep. Little squirt gets his speed from me.”
“Awww, poor you~” You can sense the glare as you respond in a condescending, sing-song tune. “You and him are always butting heads. Like father, like son.”
“Tch, hate that sayin’ so fuckin’ much.”
“Why? ‘Because it’s true?”
“Shut up.” The hand he used to rest his head comes down to pinch your nose. You wriggle out of his hold with giggles, but he happily keeps you grounded to him with his stronghold and a leg wrapped around to prevent yours from moving. “He only listens to you. Such a sweet lil’ baby to you, huh? Puttin’ my own son against me.”
More giggles prompt out of tiny guilt, and you bring up a hand to rub on his chest. “He’s such a bright boy now. Growing up so big and fast.”
“Miki, too. That girl is way too smart fr' me to catch up. And she’s becoming so kind and strong, crazy to think she made me play teacups when she could barely go down the stairs by herself.” Toji hums, the vibrations felt on the pads of your fingers. “Think she gets that from you.” 
You shook your head. “They’re your babies. They do amazing things because they have a big guy like you to catch them if they ever fall.”
“Hmm, fair…But let’s not pretend I’m the best dad in the world. Fuck, never in my life did I think I’d be a dad, especially with two kids. I didn’t know shit back then — still! I still don’t know shit.” You don’t say anything, just listening to him voice his thoughts to you. Because he knows you’d listen – you always do. “If you weren’t there for them, I don’t think they’d be shining like this. Y’re definitely the thing that brought us up together. They look up to you so much. Ya did so well with them.”
Nodding aimlessly, his black sweatshirt grazing on your cheek. “Thank you. Same to you. Didn’t do so bad yourself, big guy.”
“Mmm.”
Nothing is said between you two after that. The only thing that makes noise is the voices coming from the television. The volume lowered, an initiative you could guess from Toji wanting you to get some rest. The silence was too awkward that it might torture some, but it was fine where it was. There was no need to change it, especially when you were comfortable in each other’s embrace.
That is, until Toji asks, “Do you miss it?” The rubs on your back go slower, his fingertips drawing a ticklish sensation.
“Of course I do. All the time.” You answer honestly, turning your head to rest your chin on him. Your eyes glimpse directly at his, giving him a tiny grin. “Why ask? I know the kids miss me being around; what about you? Miss me nagging and putting you to work all the time?”
He sneers at your comment. “Every day.”
It was such a simple answer, yet it had the power to wipe that smirk right off your face. Your eyes locked in his sight, and your heart tuning to an irregular rhythm. Oh, come on, Y/n, get a grip! “Ahem—Toji, I hope you know that I never stopped missing everything we had — I never will. Those years that we shared were probably the best I’ve had. We had happy moments, others sad, of course. But, God, do I miss it all. I miss it so much. I miss having you guys here. Miki and Gumi and—“
“Me?” Good Lord, if this man doesn’t stop looking at you with those goddamn eyes of his, such captivating orbs that say more than he lets on. Your breath hitches, and so does the hand on your back. “Hmm? Ya miss me, baby?”
Oh, for fuck’s sake. Why’d you have to call me that? And it gets worse when he places his free hand on your cheek, his thumb brushing your skin while the forefinger teases the lobe and tragus of your ear. Goddammnit…
“...Yes,” your voice was down a whisper, which could easily be mistaken with the television. But you know Toji heard you, loud and clear. “Especially you, Toji.” You said it. The words that he wanted to hear from you. They felt so forbidden to say, yet it was the truth. You avert your gaze away from him. But you knew that wouldn’t work, not right now. Toji taps your cheek with his thumb, and your eyes sheepishly return to his.
He doesn’t say anything, and that makes your heart beat at an unbearable rate. It’s all you can hear when you stare into his deep emerald eyes, the sound of it ringing your eardrums as if you could puke. Your throat running dry, so you gulp to ease the uncomfortable bob. If something could just happen to end this anxious torture, that would be great. 
And then your prayers get answered: something does happen. Toji slowly brings his face closer to yours — your body goes rigid, and you instantly face away before the inevitable happens. No, I didn’t mean that!
“Aht aht, don’t do that, baby.” His hand slithers from your cheek to your chin, forcing you to face straight at him. “Lemme see you.”
“Toji, wait,” your voice travels out in a shaky breath. “We shouldn’t be doing this. We can’t cross this line anymore.”
He listens to your pleas, but his body does otherwise. Placing a gentle kiss on your forehead while the hand on your back snakes downward. “Why not?” His gruff voice dialed down to a whisper.
“Because—Mmmm…” Toji interrupts you by licking the helix of your ear. Oh, you slick bastard. “We’re supposed to be done…” 
“That’s not stoppin’ me from takin’ care of my sweet thing.” Jesus Christ, you almost melted from the way he whispered that to your ear. He’s pulling out all the same old tricks, and it gets more hellish by the second as you try not to give in. “So, y're gonna let me take care of you like I always do, right, mama?”
Both his hands now rest on your ass, groping it while your hips sway as if they have a mind of their own. The leg between yours comes up slightly, making you ride on it. The heat on your cheeks has already blossomed to your ears, making it hard to think straight. Gripping his sweatshirt, your hips ride his thigh to ease the throbbing sensation that grows with every motion. Good God, you shouldn’t be doing this. You know you shouldn’t be doing this. However, it’s been so long that you felt wanted like this — wanted by him. It’s all the same – his voice, his hands, his words, his body, and the names he calls – yet here you are turning into putty. 
“Haaahh, Mmmfff…Toji, please,” Toji withdraws his face from your shoulder, leaving him to examine your expression. You must look so dumb right now, with your hooded eyes and shivering lips. But, at this point, do you even care? “Please…Treat me right.”
One moment, you see his gaze narrow with a devious glint. Next, you’re taken aback when Toji slams his lips on yours, kissing and sucking your bottom lip until you give him access. With a moan, you open your mouth for him and sink deeper into the kiss. Your hands come around his neck, keeping him focused on you and you alone. Not that he would have it any other way.
His strong hands continue to knead your asscheeks while you hump and grind on his thigh. Nibbling on your lip, you whimper helplessly for him. It strokes his ego, knowing he’s making you like this, the fucking bastard. He takes in your tiny cries happily, shoving his tongue to play with yours. You give in to him, almost losing your balance riding his thigh, yet Toji’s lips never leave yours.
You break the kiss to get an imperative breath, panting loudly and sweetly for him as Toji kisses and licks your ear. The sounds make your lower region twitch. “Hnnmm, fuck…That’s my girl. So fuckin’ good fr’ me always, Y/n…” You can feel him slide a hand up to the hem of your leggings, forcing it inside for his thick fingers to brush up on the bare flesh of your butt. You gasp sharply. Him squeezing your butt has you biting down on his sweatshirt. “—Hahhh, Oh God, Toji,” With every squeeze, he inches closer to your panty-covered chasm, where you know he’d find a damp spot. Please touch me. Please, please, plea—
CLACK-CLINK!!
The two of you are frozen stiff when you hear the sound of the door opening and closing, the foyer lights turned on. “Alright~, we got you guys home. See ya later!” That was Gojo’s voice, indicating everyone was finally back from trick-or-treating. This means that Tsumiki and Megumi are about to see you on top of their father, his hand in your leggings and smacking lips with yours. Your eyes shoot wide with horror — immediately remove yourself from Toji and stand up from the couch to pull your bottoms up. You barely had the chance to peek at Toji because the kids already run to the living room to find you two.
“Y/n, Y/n, look!” The brunette was the first to greet you with her adorable pink Barbie cowgirl costume. She and her brother, dressed as Sasuke Uchiha, cheerfully showcased their pillowcases full of candy. “Look at all this candy we got!”
“Wooow, you guys really went on a haul,” you can only hope they can’t see you sweating bullets through your fake reaction. “Wh–Where’s Gojo?” 
“He dropped us off here a few seconds ago and left for the party,” The raven-haired boy answered while scanning his pillowcase.
You only nod along until you frantically wipe your mouth, realizing the tiny trail of spit from the corner of your mouth. “Umm—Ahem, well then, I’m glad you two got all that candy. Now, let’s hurry up and get you guys home so you can get ready for school tomorrow!” 
But the children didn’t move an inch. Actually, they looked like they were going to tell you something. You lift a brow. Oh no, they’re going to look at each other. They looked at each other and then glanced back at you. Oh, God, no. “Uhhh, Y/n, we were thinking.” Big sister Tsumiki is always the one who asks the following question. “Can we stay over?”
You inhale a massive breath, yet you do your best not to exhale a heavy sigh. “Kids, you promised to keep the overnight stays to three at max per month. This will be the fifth!” 
“Yeah, but it’s dark out. Plus, it’s way past our bedtime.” The younger chimes in with a tiny pout. “We’ll be asleep by the time Dad gets us home.”
And here comes Tsumiki with the tag-team response to add on. “And that means he’ll have to make continuous trips back and forth from the car. Picking me and Megumi up, getting our bookbags, the bags full of candy, the whole thing! We already packed up our PJs just in case.” 
You stood there staring at the two in astonishment. There’s no way they thoroughly planned this out. There’s just no way… And to make it worse, they were making valid arguments. You open your mouth to say something, but the two give the best puppy eyes they can. The wave of guilt hits like a train, internally cringing. You turn to Toji, who still sits on the couch, and the motherfucker only gives you a shrug. Wow, what a helpful father he is.
You groan into your hands, shaking your head while looking at the kids who wait for your verdict. “…Alright, you can stay as long as you PROMISE to put those candy bags in my bedroom closet. Deal?” The happy smiles and aggressive head shakes should answer your question. “Good, now go ahead and take your showers before you head for bed.” They rushed to the stairs by the time you finished that sentence, so enthusiastic about staying the night at your house, and you can’t help but smile hearing their footsteps run up the stairs. 
With that being said, you turn to the older man again. Your brows are trenched down, but your smile is still present. “So, you legit just sat there and let those two tag-team me like that? In my own house?”
Another shrug with a dumb smirk on his handsome face. “Told you: too smart fr’ me to catch up.” You shake your head before exiting to get the kids and guest rooms ready, leaving him with the television. 
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
The midnight hour has finally danced its way into the darkness of the night. Halloween is finally over, and the month of October is no more. The pitter-patter sound of the rain cleanses the neighborhood of its merits and festivities that partook hours ago, ready for a new phase of the year to take over.
After having the guest room ready with sheets and sleepwear for Toji and kissing the kids goodnight, you rinse your stress off with a nice shower and put on your pajamas to get ready for bed. After you turn the lights off, you drape the comforter over your figure as your body sinks with the cozy sheets and pillowcase. Your eyes close while focusing on the curtains of your window, the only light piercing inside being the lampposts by the street. 
…Well, at least that’s what’s supposed to happen. But that’s not the case because you’re not the only one lying comfortably on your mattress. Instead, Toji is here with you, in your room, on your bed, his chest to your back, and his hand roaming inside your oversized shirt. Your lips are now connected with his, sharing your erotic moans with his enticing groans, and you get a little louder as his fingers cup and play with your breast.
“Mmphh…Ahhhh, I thought I told you you’re sleeping in the guest room—Nmmff!” He tweezes your nipple with his forefinger and thumb roughly.  
“And I thought you’d be smart enough to know that wasn’t gonna happen.” Toji kisses the crook of your neck, drawing near your ear for him to whisper. “Besides, look at you. Still sleepin’ with no underwear on?”
“Hmph, only when I have a man around the house.” That answer got you another rough tweak on your nip and a purposeful gnaw to your ear. You knew he’d react like that, never liking the mention of another man leaving your mouth – especially during an intimate time like this.
“That so? What man you know that can handle all this?” Toji then moves from his side to be between your legs, pulling up your shirt to fully expose your chest. And your breathe hitches while his free hand travels down your abdomen to your bottoms.
“Ahhhh, no one. Just you...” You look at him with half-lidded eyes, taking in his reaction to what you said. The salacious grin on his face becoming broader should entail that he greatly loved that retort.
He brings his face to your other unattended nipple, “Good answer, princess.” The nub of your breast enters his mouth, and the wet warmth of his tongue greets it with lapped motions and grazes from his teeth. Despite that, it doesn’t distract you from the fact your bottoms are pulled down with ease and are thrown to the bedroom floor, leaving your cunt out for him, your erotic fluids seeping and glistening from the outside lights. 
Toji plays with your folds until he can stuff his pointer finger into your chasm, the insertion resulting in your body’s jolt. It’s been a long while since you had his thick digit inside you, playing and scraping the inner walls to evoke whimpers. God, it felt so good, this satisfying feeling returning to awaken your body to his touch. He interacts with your body as if he’s the only person who knows how to get you going – and it’s the truth. No one can put you in a blissful haze quicker than this man. And you’d prefer to keep it that way. 
The addition of his middle finger into your leaky entrance startles you, the thick digit making its way in with such vigor that he uses both fingers to scrape the velvety texture of your walls. Your eyes are now screwed shut at the growing commotion between your thighs, and the heat within your body flourishing all around gets to your head. “—Khmm, Oh fuuck, Toji. Please, don’t stop.” 
With a soft ‘pop’ noise from his lips, Toji replies to your demands. “I’m sorry, what’s my name again?” You giggle with trenched brows. Of course, how could I forget?
“Nmmph, D-Daddy, pleaseee, I’m so clo—Ahhhann!!” He puts his thumb to your clit, grinding down on it unexpectedly. “I wanna cum, pleaseee…”
“Hmmm, good girl,” he teased, laying down kisses, nibbling on the skin of your stomach and inner thighs until he arrives at your leaking slit. Your body jerks up from the bed when you feel the cold, wet muscle slowly lick on your clitoris before ravaging your folds. The sounds of his mouth on your cunt are so lewd to the ear, slurping noises from his lips with the lapping motions of his tongue claiming your come are too much for you. And when he uses his hand to swipe and pinch your clit? Oh, it’s a wrap. Your release comes out without control, biting down on your bottom lip to make sure your cries don’t leave this space for the kids to hear. Their room is on the other side down the hall; tonight isn’t the night for too many risks.
When your trembling body calms down and subsides, Toji withdraws his face from between your thighs. Your essence paints his mouth, and he wipes his chin clean while licking the remnants that coat his scarred lips. “Hmph, missed tastin’ you like that.” You open your eyes when your high finally evades you, watching your ex-husband pull down his sweats. His erection springs out and hits his stomach, your mind going rampant with thoughts as you ogle at his freed limb. Shit, it’s been so long. Will that shit even fit me again?
“Don’t think it’ll fit, baby?” Damn him, he loves teasing you. Toji then discards his black wife-beater, at long last revealing his well-built, brawny physique that has you drooling for him. He uses his hands to maneuver your legs—your knees pushed to your chest as your legs propped up on his shoulders. A position you’re all too familiar with. Your eyes don’t leave Toji’s cock as he aligns his cock to your slick-coated folds. “Take some breaths fr’ me, sweetie. Can’t take care of you when you’re all tense.”
You take up on his advice and begin taking deep breaths, reminding yourself to maintain the steady pattern as he pushes the tip of his dick between the lips of your cunt. Every inhale is where he nudges into the hole of your inner cavern, and every exhale gives you time to breathe out the pain that comes in for a split second. This carries on until the cockhead wedges itself perfectly into your vagina, along with the inches of his girth that stretches until the base kisses your lips, the tip of him kissing your cervix. Tears swell up in your eyes, taking more deep breaths to prepare yourself for what’s about to come. 
“Oooh fuuuck…Heh, yeah, that’s my baby right there. Fittin’ so perfect fr’ me, mama…” He puts his weight on you, keeping your figure unmoving under his bow. 
“Nmmmf, Daddyyy,” you’re forced to take in all of him, and drool trails down your lips with no hope of taking care of it. “…I’m so full, you’re too much…”
“I know, sweetie, I know.” He wipes your spit after kissing your forehead. How gentle compared to what you’re about to go through. “Gonna move now.” His thrusts start slow for the two of you to adjust to each other; the feeling of his length’s veins coming in and out of your chasm is so euphoric, and the kisses to your cervix want your body to writhe and squirm. But you’re bent into this position for a reason: forced to submit to him no matter what. So you do just that.
Yet your horny haze gets more potent once he picks up the pace, rutting into you with increased speed. Your slit, still sensitive from earlier, gets overstimulated with the constant grazes on your gummy walls and jabs to your tender cervix. It takes everything in your power not to come so early.
“—Hahhhh, Nmmph. Oh, shit, shit, shit…” Toji groans above you, the thrusts of his pelvis increase to an irregular rhythm, grinding deep into your cunt to the point of uncontrollable babbles escaping your lips. His bullying on your insides results in you gripping his length hard, causing the older man to hiss and moan at your contractions. “—Ohhhfuuuckk!! Jesus Christ, baby. Y’re gonna make me go crazy.” 
As if that wasn’t already happening now that he pistons his cock into your wetness, your brain turning into mush from the onslaught of ruts to your puffy wet chasm. Tears stream down your face, and more drool follows down with more precise hits to your delicate canal. The pounding in your head makes it hard to think of anything else, the squelching noises and paps of Toji’s balls hitting your cunt making it worse. 
“D-Daddyyy, I’m—Ohoooo!! Oh, Jesus, ohhhshit!” You can’t formulate a proper sentence, too engulfed with the electrifying sensations coursing through your body. 
“Damn, you feel too fucking good—Hnngh!!” Toji places his forehead on yours, resting his entire weight on you while his hips have a mind of their own. “‘Bout to make me knock you up…”
Oh, good Lord. The mere thought of having a child is the last thing that should be on your mind. But in a time like this, who in their right mind would be thinking straight? “Nnnfff! Oh God, pleaseee, fill me up, Daddyy!” Green eyes narrow with trenched brows. “—Pleasepleasepleaseee!! I want you to fill me up so bad, I want it, I want—Hyaaaaa!!” 
How can he deny your desperate, teary pleas when you’re urging him on like this? “Heh, you’re so fuckin’ sexy, mama.” Toji captures your lips with his, your mewls taken by him as you sink further into your pleasurable thrill.
Sporadic thrusts of his pelvis produce more raunchy noises in the joining of your sexes, his heavy balls smacking on your cunt as he drives the base of his cock straight into you. Your slit is now a puffy mess, come and slick form a soapy mess that Toji now harbors a milky ring around his girth. A few rushed, sloppy thrusts heighten your high once more, and then Toji presses his pelvis down to the hilt on one final, harsh thrust, unloading his seed into your aching folds. And your climax follows in a few seconds, the walls of your cunt fluttering on his pulsating dick as your essence soaks him. Your muffled shrieks are received by him, quivering under him until the aftershocks wash through your body. 
Once you two breathe at a steady tempo and the nerves of your sweaty bodies fall still, the kiss is broken with heavy pants and a string of spit that links you two together. Toji buries his face between your neck and shoulder, licking and kissing your skin as you’re allowed time to experience your clarity.
“Hmmm…You know I’m not done yet, princess.” Toji mumbles to your ear before stationing your legs off his shoulders for them to rest.
“Yeah, I know, big guy.” You tease him with a breathless laugh, kissing him on the temple. “Always wanting more…”
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
“…So, you’re telling me you had your ex-husband spend the night? Not just the kids?”
“Yup, that’s what happened.” 
This morning was different from your usual routine – well, you can’t say it’s different if you have done it before, huh? After five years of divorce, you thought you’d be so used to waking up and getting ready for work without worrying about others. However, this morning proves otherwise.
It felt natural walking into the kids’ room and lightly shaking them awake, telling them to get ready while you whip up something quick for them to eat as Toji showers (using your bathroom, by the way). Watching the kids run down the stairs and eat breakfast puts a smile on your face, reminiscing about the good old days when they were younger and teenier. It sometimes feels surreal doing the same thing for them now that they’re getting older and taller. But seeing them bicker and interact with each other in your presence never fails to warm your heart.
When Toji’s finished freshening up and loading his kids’ stuff in his truck, it’s time to bid them farewell for their departure for school. You give them final touch-ups on their hair and outfits, reminding them to be safe and not get into trouble (especially Megumi, now that the boy’s been getting into fights). And before they rush to the car, you hug them and give each a kiss on the cheek. Here is where the warm feeling inside your heart begins to deteriorate, not wanting to let them go. Yet, for their sake – and education – you release them and hope for the best.
The last to leave was Toji, who came from the kitchen to the front door with a paper plate wrapped in foil in one hand. His name is written boldly by a black Sharpie. “This fr' me?” 
“No, it’s for Shiu Kong, for dealing with you all the time.” You stick your tongue out at Toji as he glares at you, not even moving out of the way while he exits through the door. “You better eat that when you get to work, you have a terrible habit of skipping lunch.” 
“Whatever ya say, mom.” He pesters you with the title, knowing you’re technically not a mother anymore. Yet it only makes you smile knowing he notices your maternal side. 
“Don’t forget to text me when Tsumiki’s soccer game is next week.” You watch him go down the porch stairs. 
“Will do.”He whistles. 
“And Toji?”
The man stops walking to turn to you, his forest green eyes fixed on you so quickly that you almost forget what you want to say. Or what you wanted to do. You place your fingers on your lips and blow a kiss with an outward gesture. It was an old habit you did whenever he left, something you can’t seem to get out of practice with. It’s embroidered in your mind at this point. 
And when he catches the kiss with his free hand and places it on his chest, it makes your heart skip a beat. Toji grins, “I’ll be damned if that was fr' Shiu, too.”
You snicker with a shaken head. “Drive safe, Toji.” Closing the front door, you stand there for a while. Your smile doesn’t falter; it gets bigger as you replay the moment instead. Thinking about him, hearing him, seeing him, it all drives you crazy. And that’s a good thing…right?
“I don’t know, sounds like you still kinda care about the guy.” 
“Of course I do,” So here you are, sitting in your living room enjoying the rays of the sunset decorating the space, in a video call with your best friends, Utahime and Mei Mei. You reply to the former’s comment. “Just because I don’t have the ring on my finger doesn’t mean I shouldn’t care about him. I mean, he’s the father of two lovely children.”
“Shoot, you’re better than me, then.” The dark-haired woman admits. “But you’re kinda proving my point, Y/n. Even when you don’t have the ring on, you two act like the same old couple, and it’s definitely not just for the kids’ sake. Let’s be real here.” 
You try to interject, but the pale-blue-haired other, Mei Mei, intervenes, “I agree. It’s one thing if you let the children stay over, but he also wanted to spend the night. Sure, he could’ve been tired from driving all day and such. However, if you’re still seeing a man for the last five years – while legally unbound – and he says he wants to spend the night under your roof, which is rare, that should ring some bells at least.”
“I know, it did…” you nod along with what your friend is saying, throwing your head back with a heavy sigh. “But it’s not like he’s never spent the night here before, nor is he banished from stepping inside.” 
“Oh? Then why is this time different from the others?”
Utahime jumps in after Mei Mei’s chirp. “Yeah, you’re telling us about all these nostalgic lovey-dovey feelings as if you’re falling in love with him all over again. What, did you two have sex or something?” 
An open mouth, yet no words come out, leaving you in a predicament. You could’ve just lied or swerved the subject to something else. But you didn’t. And the two women on the screen lift their brows with hooded eyes, a look meaning a thousand words. You couldn’t even explain yourself either because a sudden knock on your door captured the attention of all three of you. 
You stand up and walk towards the door, your friends still on call on the phone at hand. Opening the door, you’re almost stunned to see in front of you. Tsumiki and Megumi with nervous smiles, and their father at the car collecting the same duffles bags from last night. You’re kidding.
“Hey, kids.” The two of them gulped from not calling them by their names. You bring up the phone to face the screen to them. “Say hello to Auntie Mei Mei and Utahime.” The women on the line smile and wave at the children, who sheepishly wave back.
“Hi, aunties.” Megumi greets them, and then his eyes drift back to you. “So, Y/n—“
“What did you forget this time?” Straight to the point, no room for excuses.
“It was Miki this time! She forgot her soccer cleats.” The older sibling gawks at her younger brother for calling her out.
“Tsumiki, I know you have cleats at home.”
“I do, but these are special! You bought them for my birthday, and I’ve been wearing them to every game ever since! So, I was scared when I couldn’t find them at home.” The brunette was quick to defend her stand. “Also, Dad doesn’t feel like driving up here and then back. So…can we…”
You close your eyes and bring the phone to your face to shield your vexation. Twice in a row, the sixth time this month. You can hear the giggles of your friends from the other side of the phone, adding more fuel to the fire. You don’t look up until you hear heavy footsteps on the porch, seeing Toji holding both duffle bags with a hand and shoulder. He stares at you as you stare at him, a silent conversation on how to handle this situation. And when he shrugs with lifted brows, you realize it’s no use and release the long-awaited sigh.
“….If I see one more thing being left behind here, you guys can’t come back till December, understand?” It wasn’t anything serious, but enough for the kids to know you weren’t joking. They nod their heads in unison while you roll your eyes. “Okay, get in here.” They rushed inside with gleeful laughs, the shuffling of their backpacks following along with them. Your eyes then drift to Toji as he walks up to you. “Did you forget something here, too?”
“Yeah,” you lift a brow when he drops Megumi’s bag to the floor. Before you can register his hand on your chin, you squeak when he brings his lips to yours. It lasted for seconds, but the kiss was sweet and tender, sucking on your lip before letting go with a playful bite. “Meant to give you that when you woke up. Thanks fr' the food, mama.” 
Toji picks the bag up and walks inside your home to put the bags in the rooms, leaving you standing on the porch with an astounded expression. You couldn’t appropriately calibrate your thoughts until you heard faint laughs from the phone. Then, you realize your best friends witnessed the entire scene that transpired. 
Utahime, with the slyest leer, was the first to say something. “Oh yeah, he laid that pipe on you good, without a doubt.”
“Mhmm,” Mei Mei agrees with a chuckle. “And I'm guessing he’s gonna do it again tonight. Isn’t that right, Y/n?”
You end the video call with a heated face. “Sh-Shut your damn mouths!!” Again, you groan into your hands before returning inside. Thank God I still have those birth control pills...
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♱ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2023 – reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header art by rororogi mogera + dividers by the amazing @/cafekitsune!!
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tarjapearce · 10 months
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Strawberry Jam (+18)
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Dad friend AU!Miguel x fem!reader
Inspired in THIS ask <3 Thanks anon. Hope you like c:
PT. 2
WARNING: SMUT, Age gap, breeding kink, fang kink, choking, rough sex, brief tension, slight fluff.
"Rise and shine, cupcake!" Curtains were drawn out as sunlight seeped in your dim lit room. You groaned in response, trying to cocoon yourself under the sheets.
"C'mon, sweetie. I gotta meet a client in a coupe of hours, need you awake to receive some packages." Silence. He sighed, "I'll bring you some flan." You yawned and smiled. Of course he would, you were his spoiled girl. He had raised you well despite the rocky relationship with your mother.
Someone that had decided to not be a part of your life for quite a while, leaving your dad a good chunk of the responsibility. At least, she provided enough for your college. An agreement that had settled up a long time ago by a judge.
"Make it napolitan, please" He chuckled and kissed your temple. "Oh, forgot to mention, Miguel is coming over to help you."
"Miguel?"
And of course, it had put a toll on his mental health, during the last couple of years. As a father, your father, he was anything but perfect, but he made sure to be there, to always support you. He had met Miguel in one of those support groups for men, and things sort of snowballed from there. Your dad and Miguel had alot in common, single parents, demanding jobs, and unconditional love for their daughters.
You had the chance to meet him a couple of times during college vacations, at first he was intimidating to you. 6'9", a hard look on his face that seemed to only melt away with his close ones, and a hulking muscular figure.
But now, every time you visited you'd find his blue Aston Martin Vanquish parked outside your house, beer in hand, screaming at the screen as a soccergame was on. He wasn't a stuck up guy (Like your neighbors had described him once), despite having flooding money in his account.
His daughter was in one of the best private schools in town after all, thanks to his job at Alchemax. He even got you a lovely gold necklace for your 21st birthday after ruffling your hair, something that annoyed you, since you weren't a child. He had came into your lives' two years ago.
"Yeah,some of the packages are his. He was out of town to get them, so I offered to receive them." The doorbell rang, announcing his presence. Your dad left and you sat on your bed and checked your phone.
Of course, your friends would be always asking about him, one of them even dared to ask if you had fucked him already once they saw you wearing the golden necklace. You knew he was off limits. Mostly out of respect for your dad, and of course, the weird feeling that he just saw you as his friend's daughter.
You stood up to prepare for the day, as uneventful as it would be. Hot shower with sweet smelling products, to then change into a pair of gray sweatpants, bunny slippers and a tanktop, washed your teeth and brushed your damp hair. Then, you came down the stairs only to find Miguel sitting across your dad on the kitchen island, mug of steaming coffee on hands.
"Morning" you greeted him with a pat on the shoulder as you put a bagel into the toaster and served yourself some orange juice.
"Buenos días" Miguel greeted, his eyes following you as you moved through the kitchen. Your house was homey, cozy and perfect for the suburban life. Miguel wore a black buttoned jersey, dark jeans and dress shoes. A black belt accentuating his waist.
"Gotta go then, You're in charge" Your dad spoke, and patted his sturdy shoulder to then leave. You rolled your eyes.
"Anyways, want breakfast?"
"No, Thank you." His eyes were focused on the newspaper before him, that until you bent over to search for jam in the lower cabinets. His eyes were immediately to your rear. he sipped his coffee and hummed. The thin straps of the tank top slid off your shoulder. He closed his eyes, engraving the image in his mind. You sat across him, breakfast on a plate.
"Whatcha getting?" you munched in the bagel, a bit of jam smearing in the corner of your lips. Instinctively, he licked his own.
"Some playground for Gabriela." you nodded as you relished the flavor of your bagel. Licking off, the strawberry jam off your stained fingers. His eyes wandering to the way your lips trapped your fingers, the gold necklace adorning your little neck. It looked almost inviting.
"Glad to see you liked it. Gold looks good on you." You didn't know how his shirts fit him so well without bursting or tearing. His back had been lately the object of your new hyperfixation. You had seen jacked up guys in college, but Miguel was certainly in a whole different level.
"Thanks. It got me into a bit of trouble back in college actually." you snorted and drank your orange juice.
"How come?"
"Well,my friends think that I've got myself a sugar daddy."
His eyes twinkled in amusement, an idea seemed to be popping in his mind.
"Funny they think that when you still keep smearing jam on your face. Come here" He took your hand and pulled you across the kitchen island, even though he was sitting, he still towered over you. You barely reached his chin. He cupped your face, your sweet breath fanned his lips. He pouted as his face inched closer.
"Pero qué muchachita tan desastrosa." He mumbled, as he wiped the jam off the corner of your lips to then lick it off his finger. Your eyes went wide, cheeks flushed as you swallowed.
"D-Dad would kill you if he'd see you like this"
"Good thing he isn't around, hm?"
"You're the same age" your voice almost a whisper as he kept cupping your face with a single hand as the other one pulled you closer to him, "You could even be my father!"
Your heart thumped hard against your chest, his warm, coffee-like smelling breath brushed over your lips.
"But I'm not." his hands roamed your shoulders, the straps of your tanktop peeled away under his touch, the fabric slid lower and lower as it hovered over the curvature of your breast.
The doorbell rang. You both froze.
"Puta madre…" he seethed and stood, towering even more over you, "I'll get it. Stay put."
"But-"
"Stay.Put." His finger pointing at you as he disappeared back to the livingroom.
Your mind was still trying to process what just happened. You could hear Miguel exchange peasantries with the delivery man as he received an array of boxes. Your straps were slid back on their original position, and your phone buzzed. "Dad <3" on screen. You picked up.
"Hey"
"Hello, how's everything going?"
"Dad it's just been twenty minutes. But at least the packages just came."
"Careful with a small box, it has some fragile things."
The main door was closed.
"Oh? ok. Uh… You coming home soon?"
"Why, is there a problem?"
Big hands covered your shoulders to pull the upper part of the tanktop down, breast spilled from their confinement. Miguel's hands cupped them and gave gentle squeezes as his mouth kissed your neck.
"N-No, no no. Just asking so I can make-" You bit your lip, drowning a gasp as he toyed with your nipples, "E-Enough lunch for both"
Your hand covered your mouth as his teeth grazed your skin. Somthing you found interesting about Miguel was the fact he seemed to have larger canines than the average people. Whenever he was angry, you could see a glimpse of his pointy teeth underneath his plump lips.
He gave soft love bites, licking the skin. Your skin shivered.
"Ah, don't you worry about it, I might get there until night it seems. Anyways, see ya later, love you cupcake."
Miguel stopped for a moment.
"Love you too." You hung up the call, Miguel removed the phone from your hands and twirled you around to kiss you deeply. His hands fisting your hair to hold you in place as his tongue invaded your mouth with such expertise it made your legs feel like jelly. You gasped as she pressed you closer to his body, warmth spreading all over yours.
Miguel nipped at your bottom lip, and placed you ontop of the kitchen island with ease, bunny slippers falling off your feet as they dangled. He unbuttoned his shirt and removed the piece of cloth on the dining table.
"W-Wait! Shouldn't we better go-"
"Shh." His fingers hooked on the hem of your sweatpants and pulled down along your panties. Smooth skin revealed to his eyes. He pulled your hips closer and dragged a finger down your folds to then ease it inside you slowly. He hissed at the moist and warm feeling, he retrieved the finger back and licked it clean, groaning.
"Riquísimo, preciosa" His hands maneuvered your legs like a toy, he spreaded them to then push them back to expose even more flesh. Your mouth fell open as he dribbled the tip of his tongue around the knub of nerves and then drag it down and up your entrance.
Yelping, you held tight on the sturdiness of the island. His mouth disappeared between your slick folds, your breath caught in your throat as he sucked eagerly at your clit while his tongue flickered.
Your sweet coos and moanings only urged him to hold on you tightly, he moved his head to the sides increasing the intensity of his eating. Your hips grind against his tongue, seeking for relief, but he stopped you, a choked whine from your throat.
"Look at you" He put your hips back on the cold tiles, to then unbuckling his belt. "What would your dad think if he saw you like this?" He pulled you off the island, to then bend you over it. One of his feet, kicked away the clothes.
"All spread for me, eager to be filled up" He slapped your pusy softly as he pulled his underwear and pants down, also kicking them away, "Wanna make him a grandpa?" Your eyes went wide, panic surged through your mind but he pushed your torso flat against the cold surface. His legs separating your own.
His fingers prodded inside once more before coating his cock and as gently as he could, eased his way inside you. The stretching of his cock had you biting your lip and gripping softly at his wrist.
"Ohmy god" you half whimpered, slurred as he filled you completely.
"Estás tan apretada, mami" He kneaded your trembling hips. One hand held you in place as the other one twisted in your lowered tanktop. His hips rolled slowly. He wanted to make sure you were comfortable enough before his hips smacked yours with enough force to make you lurch forward, air knocked out of your lungs. You were on your tip toes. His hand slapped your ass as it bounced back and forth on his cock.
"Such a good girl" he grunted and sunk his nails on your hips, "Te voy a coger tan bien que cada vez que entres a este lugar, te acuerdes de mi." His hand freed the tanktop to take a fistful of your hair and pulled back. He had gone to ruffle your hair, to pull it.
Your arching gave him the perfect spot to ram into. So ever tight and hot. You hissed as an array of lewd cursing flew out your mouth. His balls slapped your flesh mercilessly.
"Con esa boca le dices a tu papá que lo amas?" he clicked his tongue in feigned disapproval. He let your hip go, hands immediately hooking underneath your right thigh and hoisted it up, spreading you like a book, pounding deeper and rougher into you.
Your pants and desperate moanings drowned his growling. Your body felt on fire, a thin layer of sweat covered your body, his torso glistened in sweat. His front bangs had fell onto his face by the constant movement.
You held onto his forearm, contorting your torso up, to see his lust blown face. His hands made sure to hold you tightly, preventing from falling. Big eyes stared at him, too lost in sinful thoughts as he pressed closer, deeper into you.
"Fuck me" You choked a sob as your orgasm approached. Your voice too coarse from the constant mewling.
"Just like this, mami?" he breathed before hoisting your leg a bit wider, you whimpered, nodded and clawed at his arms. You begged him to not stop, your orgasm was around the corner as he rawed you silly.
Your inner thighs and outher flesh were flushed by the constant rough slapping of his hips, the hand that held your leg, snaked its way towards your neck, squeezing tighly, your leg dangled and swayed at the rythm of his thrust.
"Come for daddy, preciosa" he groaned as his thrustings turned erratic and sloppier, slickness rolling down your sopping pussy and inner thighs.
"Fuck fuck fuckfu-" He let your leg go and held you tightly against him. your feet barely touching the floor, your torso once more flat against the cool tiles of the island as he painted your walls white with a guttural growl. It earned him a shaky and loud mewl.
"Te ves tan bella así, toda llena de mí." He picked you up and kissed you on the lips, "You alright?"
You nodded and panted, legs trembling.
"We gotta… clean up" he nodded with a smirk.
---------------
"Hey cupcake?"
"Hm?" You were sat on the solo couch, browsing through your phone as Miguel sat in the couch nearby. Your dad had arrived an hour after you were done cleaning yourselves. Something that had nearly turned into round two if it wasn't for the fact that your dad had called in to announce he was on his way back.
"Did you cook something?"
"Eh no, why?"
"Kitchen smells funky." Your eyes widened, as Miguel went stiff. You had been too engrossed in eachother that barely had the time to clean after your mess. Your dad went back to the kitchen to get himself a beer. It had been an uneventful evening for him, he was gone two hours but it was good enough for him to get a new sponsor to his remodeling contractors firm.
You shared a nervous glance with Miguel. Your dad groaned annoyed.
"(Name)"
Uh Oh. He only used your name when he was pissed.
"Yes, dad?"
"Look, your… sex life is none of my concern, really. But from all the places you could… do such thing, was the kitchen necessary? And you, I told you to keep an eye on her." He scowled at Miguel. You hung your head in embarrasment as Miguel chuckled with his hands up defensively.
"Who was it?"
"W-What?"
"Whose the guy, so I can talk to him, to not pull this… stunt again. You're better than that, (Name)"
"Hey, relax. Go easy on her." Miguel spoke
"Shut up, O'Hara."
"C'mon, you probably acted worse when you were her age. Remember when you told me about the time you-"
"Miguel, stop." Your face went as red as a tomato and your dad sighed. He looked between you and Miguel, and you could swear the five stages of grief going through his face at the sudden realization.
"You fucked my daughter…"
"Dad, stop!"
"Dad, nothing! Go to your room, now."
"You can't ground me, I'm old enough to-"
"To what? Be a step mom? Fuck older guys that could be your father? You don't know what you are getting into, young lady."
"You out of everyone know that I'll never do something that would put her in danger."
"Miguel, I don't know how your brain works right now, but You.Fucked.My.Daughter. My Daughter! The last thing I want is her being a mother before she finishes college."
"She won't be. That's a promise."
"Damn right it is, cause you won't be seeing her anymore."
"W-What? Dad!"
"I thought you were in your room, like I fucking told you."
"Don't talk to her like that." Miguel frowned
"My daughter, my house, my rules. You need to leave."
"You're angry, I get it. It was wrong of me to cross you like that, but she is old enough to know what she wants. I would never force her to do something she doesn't wants to do." Miguel spoke with his hands still in defense.
"For how long have you… been doing this?"
"It was the first time, actually" you spoke meekly from the doorframe.
"Like, you're always complaining about the few guys I introduce you to-"
"This is different!" you had never seen him so serious and angry.
Silence stretching too long, your dad sighed, annoyed.
"I fucking… I fucking swear, O'Hara. If you get her pregnant, I'll fucking kill you."
"Relax, I'm not making you a grandpa." Your dad's shoulder slumped, defeated.
"Yet." They went tense again.
"Oh my god." Your need to be swallowed by the earth underneath and to spit you away from them only increased as their conversation kept unfolding.
"So, now the surprise has been popped, that means I have your permission to properly date her?" Your dad rubbed his face tiredly.
"I wanna make things right." Miguel glanced at you.
"I've known you for a couple of years, and you've met her ever since she was eighteen. You're not a bad man, but trust me when I say that if this girl, my girl, comes here with tears in her face because you did something stupid to her, we're done. Understood?"
"Por supuesto" he went to your side and pulled you closer.
"And clean up this fucking mess."
He left to his room and left you alone. Of course you'd talk to him later, when everything was a bit more calm. Miguel on the other hand kissed your temple and sighed in relief.
"So…"
"So…"
"Sunday night, at 6 for dinner?"
"Sure."
"Don't worry, he'll be fine. Just give him time to get used to it."
"What if he never gets used to it?"
he kissed your hand
"You'll come with me"
------------------------
Buenos días- Good Morning
Pero qué muchachita tan desastrosa- What a messy girl
Puta madre- Fucking shit
Riquísimo, preciosa- So delicious, gorgeous
Estás tan apretada,mami - You're so tight, mami
Te voy a coger tan bien que cada vez que entres a este lugar, te acuerdes de mi- I'll fuck you so good that every time you enter this place, you'll remember me
Con esa boca le dices a tu papá que lo amas?- With that mouth you tell daddy you love him?
Te ves tan bella así, toda llena de mí - You look so beautiful like that, all full of me.
Por supuesto- Of course.
6K notes · View notes
klemen-tine · 2 months
Text
Blowing Raspberries
Batfam x Male!Reader Platonic
@jaythes1mp Sorry this took so long and is not all in one part! But here is the first half.
TW: Break in, Child Abuse (not the Batfam), and neglect
Publicly, Richard ‘Dick’ Grayson is the oldest Wayne sibling. Taken in by Bruce Wayne at 8-years-old, he is the first child and the oldest. In the eyes of the law and adoption papers. In the eyes of the Wayne family however, the oldest sibling title belongs to Y/N L/N. Similar to the Drakes, the L/N’s live on the other side of the Waynes, and similar to Tim, Y/N had been left home alone… a lot. 
Which meant he was over, a lot. So much so, he had his own room, Alfred made him a plate for every meal, and he was aware of their little nightly activities. Y/N L/N was a needed normalcy within the Manor, reminding them that there is more to life outside of crime fighting. 
“Did you see that new cafe?” Y/N asked, looking into Dick’s exhausted eyes while resting his chest against Jason’s head. Dick shook his head, “No. Why?” Y/N pouted, “Because you guys literally broke their windows last night.” Jason winced, remembering the shattering of glass and wide-eyed stares as he handled some thugs. 
“Please tell me that isn’t the cafe you wanted to go to today.” Dick buried his head in his hands and begged every deity that it was not that cafe. Y/N has been talking about it for weeks and finally found a time where all their schedules aligned so they could do it. 
“It was.” Jason and Dick groaned while Y/N stared at them with an annoyed expression. His arms that were wrapped around Jason tightened in a mocking chokehold, knowing that if Jason wanted to he could easily get out and have Y/N pinned. Dick groaned again, “Is… is there somewhere else you want to try?” 
“Not really.” ‘Fuck!’ Jason and Dick stared at one another, trying to figure out a way to still have this day with Y/N. If they don’t hurry, the vultures will swoop in and suggest something that will catch Y/N’s attention and– 
“Y/N, how about we got to the petting zoo.” 
“Dami!” 
“Buzz off short stack!” Y/N thumped Jason’s head with his chin, “Don’t talk to Dami like that.” The youngest Wayne smiled victoriously while his two older brothers glared at him. Dick looked offended and Jason was actually ready to strangle him. Y/N shook his head, “Dami, aren’t we going on Friday? I’m picking you up from school to go.” Damian scrunched his nose, “We can go twice.” 
Y/N couldn’t help but to chuckle, “Hmmm, those rabbits are cute.” Jason’s grip tightened, “The new bookstore in downtown! There’s a new bookstore that is supposed to have a cafe attached to it.” Damian scowled at Dick perked up, “Yeah, I forgot about that.” Y/N hummed, staring at Jason in concern, “Jay, you hate downtown.” It’s full of rich snobs and people who have nothing better to do than walk the streets in designer clothing. 
Jason made a face, “It’s our day with you, I’m fine with it as long as you’re there.” Dick gagged and Damian looked ready to chuck a knife at him. Y/N blinked at the younger man in shock before laughing, “That’s cute, okay. Let’s go there then.” He released Jason from his hold, unwrapping his arms from Jason’s neck and standing tall. Dick smiled at Y/N, who was talking to a pouting Damian and ruffling slicked back hair. 
“Alright, Y/N, I'm assuming you’re ready.” Unlike the Wayne brothers who had a father that did not care why they landed on the NEWS or magazine as long as they didn’t kill anyone, Y/N’s father was different. For someone who was always gone, he had a firm hold and opinions on Y/N’s life. 
Bruce may not care that his kids go out looking like they haven’t showered in three days, but Y/N’s dad has ordered the maids to get rid of all the ripped jeans Y/N had because the paparazzi made an opinion on them when Y/N wore them. Jason remembers listening in on that call, and numerous other calls from Mr. L/N, as he hollered at his child he did not care about. 
“You are a L/N! If you still want that last name then you will dress like a L/N!”
Unlike Dick and Jason who are dressed in jeans, Y/N is dressed in slacks and a nice polo shirt. His hair was clean and styled and the shoes he wore still shined. The aesthetic is called ‘old money’ and boy did Y/N have that. He and the Wayne siblings have become the newest trend setters in Gotham. 
Whenever the paparazzi caught them together it was always Old Gotham vs New Gotham. Slacks vs Jeans. Hair combed vs natural. Clean vs Rugged. L/N vs Wayne. 
They were the topic whenever they were out together, which was a lot. The only reason Mr. L/N hasn’t said anything is probably because Bruce is keeping his mouth shut about the child-neglect and abandonment. Point is, seeing the Wayne kids and L/N son together wasn’t odd, in fact there were jokes of Bruce Wayne adopting him, but they still always turned heads. 
“Y/N, I am telling you that is a horrible choice and you’re not gonna like it.” Said young man raised an eyebrow at Jason and tutted disappointedly, “Jay, you haven’t even read it.” The guy motioned at the cover, “Look at it! Dick! Come ‘ere and look at it!” The other made only a side glance at it and sighed, “Y/N… this is only going to lead to problems.” 
“It is literally a book about romance.” Jason screwed up his face, like someone had shoved a lemon down his throat, “But like… young adult romance. Read the classics.” 
“I have read the classics. You have read me the classics. I read them in class and if I have to read how Ms. Elizabeth Barnett falls in love with Mr. Darcy one more time I’m actually going to throw myself in traffic.” Dick agreed with Y/N on that, remembering all the time he had to read the damn book. 
“It's Elizabeth Bennett.” 
“Jay, I swear to God.” 
“Are you sure you read them because there’s no way someone who’s read them would get that name wrong.” 
“Little wing–” 
“–Dickie, maybe. But not anybody else.” 
“–Excuse you.” Y/N snorted at the now bickering brothers, watching in amusement as Dick pulled Jason’s ear and Jason to Dick’s hair. Sighing, Y/N stepped between the two. Y/N L/N is possibly the only person, other than Alfred, who would dare do such a thing. Fear was absent on his face as he calmly walked into the dog fight, and helped release their bites with gentle tugs and stern words. 
“Enough. The line is picking up at the cafe, so let's checkout and head over.” Y/N is the person who quells the fights and mends the bonds. The only person in the Manor that knew how to communicate their feelings and help others realize and communicate theirs. 
He is the kind, patient, and understanding older brother of the Batfam. Always paying attention to other’s needs and always willing to listen to someone vent their frustrations and offer sound advice. Y/N is –
“–And what about the company?! How come the sales are low this month?” 
“Father, they are riding average, it’s just the last month was a boom because–” 
“I don’t care about last month! Why are the sales low this month?!” 
– not Bruce Wayne’s ward, and therefore there isn’t much he can say in this scenario. Bruce listened and watched  Y/N slouch as Mr. L/N continued to scream and berate him from across the world. He watched the exhaustion take over Y/N’s features and the way his forehead creased, Bruce knows that a headache is now present. 
“If you still want the company then you better act like it! Enough of prancing around like the money you spend is yours!” Y/N is grateful his father hung up after that, because Y/N had a clapback to that and he’s sure his father would fly back from wherever he is just to smack him around for saying it. 
Setting his phone down on the coffee table, the weight of the conversation making his shoulders sag and melt into the armchair with a huff. Bruce chuckled at the pout, “For what it is worth, fluctuating prices are normal in businesses. As long as it doesn’t go too low, you are fine.” Y/N smiled at the man, fixing his posture and picking up the mug of coffee. 
“You heard all of that?” The man can still remember when he first met Y/N. The property alarm was triggered, and when Bruce and Alfred went out to investigate, an 8-year-old Y/N was there, his hands holding the wild raspberries and his cheeks stuffed like a chipmunk. 
He huffed at the memory, making Y/N give him a weird look. Bruce had been grateful to Y/N’s impromptu trespassing, because when Dick came into his care, a now 10-year-old Y/N had welcomed the traumatized and blubbering 8-year-old. Something Bruce had little to no idea how to handle. 
Then Jason came and that was a wild ride, followed by Steph, then Tim, and now Damian. That's just the Robins. It doesn’t include the others that have become family but never took the Robin mantle. Y/N had been there through it all, and welcomed each one with a smile and open arms. At the same time giving Bruce a raised eyebrow and icy glare that screamed, ‘Really? Another child?’ 
Y/N never faulted Bruce for his lack of communication, but he did let the man know repeatedly that while words may start fires, they can also put them out. Y/N had laid it on him one time, after a particular nasty fight with Dick and Jason. 
“For a man who loves using his vocabulary to start arguments you sure don’t have the vocabulary to fix them. What are you, a toddler?” 
Mending things with Y/N is always easy, because Y/N does not hold grudges. Not to mention having the emotional intelligence of a therapist, Y/N was always in-tuned to his emotions and whether he was projecting or not. Or if anyone else was. Living in a manor filled with people who have traumatic backstories and skeletons in the closets, Y/N has become the voice of reason and unbiased opinions. Similar to Alfred, just without the sass. 
“Do you still like raspberries?” Bruce asked, and Y/N nodded, “You ask this every time a celebration of some sort comes up and the answer is always the same. Yes, I still love raspberries.” Y/N had once confided to Bruce, over a glass of wine, how he had asked his father if he could paint the bookshelves in his room. Little did Mr. L/N know that the color would be burgundy, the closest color to a raspberry he could get without poking someone’s eye out, and when his father found out he had the bookshelves removed and set ablaze. 
Y/N got his ass handed to him when Mr. L/N came back from his trip, and was then prohibited from decorating his room without prior approval of design and permission. 
Bruce had the bookshelves in Y/N’s room in the manor painted burgundy, and when Y/N saw them, it was like watching a child be told that they were not the bad child. The relief and the path to healing across his face as he took in the bookshelves.
The man watched Y/N sip his cup of coffee, watching how exhaustion seemed to seep off of him like cologne and fill the air with his tired and somewhat annoyed state. Phone calls from Mr. L/N we’re never received well by anybody, and Jason and Tim have more than once thought about sending the hateful man a few messages. Damian offered to ambush him when he came home. 
Y/N quickly shot those down.
Tim came from nowhere, his face screwed tight and body tense. Y/N gave him a once over, before making space for the college student on the couch. He gave him a worried look-over, “Is everything alright?” Tim melted into Y/N’s side, huffing and grumbling about something. 
Bruce’s phone vibrated, and it was a message from Tim sent before he got down here. 
‘It’s in Cabo.’ Bruce huffed, already knowing that if Tim was listening then so was everyone else. Referring to Mr. L/N as an ‘it’ seemed to be everyone’s favorite pastime. Everyone but Y/N’s, but as long as it wasn’t said around him then it was fine. 
“You’re going to the Gala, right?” Tim asked and Y/N nodded, “Of course, when have I ever missed one?” Tim continued to grumble a bit, but relaxed into Y/N’s side as he ran his fingers through Tim’s messy hair. God he loves it when Y/N does this. There was barely anything better than Y/N’s head massages, easily lulling him to a calm state as everyone mentally prepared for the Gala tonight. 
When Y/N had turned 13, that is when he started showing up to the Galas representing L/N Industries, and he would be in Bruce’s care while there. Whoever Bruce met, Y/N was expected to make a great impression. Bruce never missed the way Y/N would sometimes stare at the Wayne kids in jealousy as they got to do whatever they want, while he is forced to be an adult and try to win other adults over. 
Then forced to be yelled at afterwards by his father on the phone afterwards for something miniscule. Either someone commented on a piece of clothing, or how he wasn’t smiling, anything that was negative Y/N got yelled at for. It was like Mr. L/N didn’t know how to do anything else other than yell at his child. 
Tim took no offense when the fingers in his hair stopped moving, and Y/N’s body became limp. The other was knocked out on the couch, napping away the stress and enjoying the weekend. Unlike Tim who had Bruce’s help when managing Wayne Enterprises, Y/N is all on his own. Learning from his dad’s assistant, and also Bruce’s, Y/N was basically alone when his father had forced him to take the mantle. In face only, because as far as Mr. L/N was concerned, the company’s profit was still his profit. None of it going to Y/N, except as a monthly allowance. 
Jason had once said he should just stop managing the company, and if his father loved it enough, then he’ll take over. Y/N chuckled-the bags under his eyes were deep and he had just gotten over a stress cold- and he said that although his father may care a lot about the profit, it was his late mother’s company and he wouldn’t want to embarrass her soul by purposefully failing. 
However, now all that company did was cause him stress and make him sick more frequently. Bruce had said it was probably stress from his father, and not so much the company, but that didn’t stop them all from wishing the company would just go away. 
Tim looked up Y/N through his eyelashes, taking in the similar dark circles they both shared and how Y/N looks paler than usual, and he knows that Y/N’s health would only get worse if they targeted the company. His oldest brother would do everything in his power to keep the company afloat, and it would be devastating on both sides. Y/N would run himself ragged trying to keep it alive and that would mean less time with them. 
“Let him rest, Tim. He needs it.” Everyone has asked Bruce if he plans to do something. However, there isn’t much Bruce can do now that Y/N is an adult. He’s offered a room in a manor for Y/N to stay at forever, but Y/N has always been a bit hesitant about leaving the L/N’s home. Bruce can understand why. 
Aged blue eyes observed the steady rise and fall of Y/N’s chest, and he wondered if there was anything that could convince Y/N to stay here. 
++++
“Mr. L/N, what a surprise.” A surprise it is too, because instead of Y/N being here, it is his father. The one who was in Cabo earlier today. The man smiled, looking nothing like Y/N’s, and he held out a hand, “It has been a while. I figured it was time to show my face and give my son a rest.” Dick stared at Mr. L/N in shock and weariness, not liking how he said ‘his son.’ If it was a jab at Bruce, it didn’t land. Brucie Wayne, the social bug he was, laughed and clapped his hand on Mr. L/N’s shoulder. 
“Is Y/N not showing up?” The man’s eyebrow twitched, “No, unfortunately he felt under the weather so he’s taking a break.” Dick’s eyes narrowed, and Bruce’s smile faltered, “Is that so? How unfortunate, he’s fun to talk to.” Mr. L/N’s smile tightened, “Indeed.” 
The Gala was tense, at least it was for the Wayne family, because Y/N never misses a Gala. Never. Dick saved a slice of raspberry cheesecake, for when Y/N comes over tomorrow. He’s going to be upset that he missed a fresh slice, but knowing Y/N, he’ll worry about missing the Gala. The cheesecake will act as reassurance that no one is mad. They just had to wait until tomorrow, when Y/N will show up. 
Only he didn’t. Dick can’t remember the last time he hasn’t seen Y/N in a 24-hour period, but he does know that he didn’t like it. Almost like there was a force keeping his shoulders tight and chest heavy. Looking around, he could already see the effects it was having on others. 
He didn’t answer his phone, and when they called the L/N Manor, it was one of the maids picking up and stating that Y/N was either out, sleeping, or feeling under the weather. Which doesn’t make sense because when Y/N is sick, he is always over at the Wayne manor. No one makes a better chicken noodle soup than Alfred. 
They let it go. Maybe Y/N wants to be home because his dad is home? 
Then the next day, there was still no Y/N. Not a text message, not a phone call, complete radio silence. Following radio silence while on patrol, radio silence from Y/N had to be one of the more terrifying forms of silence. 
There was nothing. His father left late last night, and usually that would mean Y/N would be over. He would be over complaining about his dad and how he needs to work harder. He’d get a stress cold that would last for two days before he would be back to normal.
Every phone call, every text message going unanswered. 
‘Y/N, I swear I’m about to break into your house. Please answer.’ The threat was real and Dick meant every word. He’s talked Jason, Damian, and surprisingly Tim from doing it but now four days of radio silence was enough to make even Bruce stir-crazy. Batman has become a little more violent throughout the week, and Bruce Wayne a little more stressed looking. 
‘Hey! Sorry for the silence, I’m just not feeling too well. I’ll see you in another few days.’ Everyone read the text message, and everyone’s mind filled with the same idea. 
“Honestly, with how often he’s with us you’d think he knows better than to lie.” Damian’s nose scrunched, eyeing the message as if it spit in his face. Tim shrugged, “It just means he’s hiding something.” 
Bruce said nothing, falling into the role of silent protector. 
“You are not actually going over in your Bat costume are you?” 
In the L/N Manor 
Y/N walked  the dark hallways back to his room. Under his arm was a book and in his other hand was a cup of coffee, still steaming and warming his fingers. The lightning that occasionally flashed filled the area with white light, casting long shadows and creating an eerie atmosphere. 
When Y/N was younger, he used to sprint back to his room. He hated how dark and silent the hallways are, reminding him that he is alone in a place that does not want him. When he whispered to Dick that he was scared of the lightning, Dick had told Bruce and sure enough Y/N would be spending nights at the Wayne manor whenever it was forecasted to thunderstorm. 
Y/N had gotten over the fear, but he still occasionally slept over when the forecast predicted rain. Just because he no longer feared it, didn’t mean he liked it. 
Pausing to look out the window like some gothic prince trapped in a tower, Y/N recalled the argument he had with his dad. The older L/N making a surprise visit and berating his child when he first saw him and when he left. Y/N wondered if with the allowance he was given, if he could just move out. Apartments in the upper end of Gotham were expensive, and he’d never hear the end of it if he moved to East Gotham. 
Not to mention, if he did leave to move out on his own, he’d be further from the Wayne family. Sure, Jason and Dick live on their own, and it wasn’t like Tim or Damian needed him around all the time, but it was home for him. 
Maybe, he’s the one that needs them.
Lightning flashed and there was another reflection in the window. 
“Ahhh!” Y/N threw his cup of coffee at the stranger behind him, and only paused in throwing the book when he saw the familiar cowl. 
“Bruce! What the hell?! Oh my God, oh my God, I think I just lost like 10 years of my life.” Y/N clasped a hand over his heart, trying to calm the organ. Taking deep breaths, he finally managed to steady his heart beat and scrunched his nose at the older man. To which, Bruce Wayne glared back, “What happened to your face?” 
‘Oh shit.’ Y/N sighed, “Nothing Bruce. I just fell, but what are you doing in my house? Did…did you break in?” Y/N tried to get around the taller and bigger man, but Bruce grabbed his arm. He spun Y/N around and thanks to the flash of lightning, Bruce’s jaw clenched at the fading bruises on Y/N’s face. 
“Did F/N do this?” 
“Bruce, I told you I just fell.” The lenses on the cowl narrowed, and Y/N saw the frown grow on the man’s face. Sighing, Y/N scrunched nose and winced when a bruise scrunched with it, “Honestly though Bruce, how did you even get in here? No, how did you even guess this hallway?” 
“You’re rooms this way.”
“Ahhhhh!” Y/N screamed and ran into Bruce’s side for protection against the voice. 
“Dick! Ho-wha- why are you here?!” 
“We were worried.” This time Y/N only flinched, and whirled around to see Damian in the Robin costume. He gaped at the pre-teen, “Oh my God, you all are just spawning out of nowhere.” Damian grabbed his hand, and Y/N couldn’t help but to hold the youngest’s hand. Muscle memory. 
“Y/N, you’re face,” Dick whispered, gently tracing the swollen and discolored skin, “We thought you were sick.” Y/N smiled, leaning into the palm of Dick’s hand, “I was. I’m just getting over it, as for the bruises… Like I was telling Bruce, I just fell.” 
Damian’s grip on Y/N’s hand tightened and the oldest sibling smiled down at him, “What’s wrong Dami?” The youngest gave a small glare through the lenses of the Robin mask, “I find your lies insulting and belittling, Y/N. The truth would be appreciated before things get more drastic.” 
“...Excuse me?” Y/N tried to remove his hand from Damian’s grip, and panicked when Robin refused to let go. 
“Y/N, please be honest. What happened?” Dick, in his Nightwing costume, rested his hands on Y/N's shoulders and tried to coax the truth out of the person he sees as his oldest brother. It only made the other tense, and tried to get out of Damian’s grip. 
“Guys, you’re scaring me.” 
“Y/N, what happened?” Bruce’s voice did nothing to ease the fear that Y/N was experiencing, and for the first time ever in the time he’s known the Wayne family, Y/N didn’t want to be around them. He struggled some more to get away from them, but with Robin’s grip on his hand, Nightwing’s hands on his shoulders, and Batman’s gaze keeping him in place, Y/N found it harder to move. 
Batman sighed, and with a nod that Y/N would have missed if he wasn’t focused on the man, Nightwing’s hand moved closer to Y/N’s neck. The other’s eyes widened, his one free hand moving to stop Nightwing. 
“Wa-”
“Good night, Y/N.” His vision went dark and the only thing he registered was a pair of arms catching him before his body hit the floor. 
++++
Y/N woke with a start, in a very familiar room, with raspberry painted bookshelves and dark sheets. His arms shot up to his face, and bandages rested on his cheeks. Looking at his arm and seeing the sleeves of his pajama pants, Y/N closed his eyes in misery and knew that if he were to lift the sleeves, there would be bandages. 
Sitting up, Y/N grunted and rested his forehead in his hand. 
“Oh good, you’re awake.” 
“Jay…” Y/N watched the other carefully, watching the taller and bigger man silently move across the room to sit next to him. His nose scrunched, “Your brothers and father have some explaining to do. Where are they?” Jason shrugged, “Out. Don’t worry about that, but Y/N, why did you hide this from us?” Y/N stared at Jason for a bit, processing the question and sighing irritably. 
“Cause it's not a big deal. This was the only time and–” 
“One time is still too many times!” Jason yelled, startling Y/N. Wide E/C eyes stared into Jason’s furious blue eyes, the slightest hint of green starting to slowly take over. Y/N gulped, “Jason, it’s fine. I am here now, right?” He reached out and grasped Jason’s larger hand, watching the other calm down with deep breaths. Those blue eyes of his seem to fall on every bandage across Y/N’s face, before looking back down at their clasped hands. 
“Everyone was a mess, you know that right?” Y/N chuckled at him, chalking it up to Jason being overdramatic, “You guys are too funny. I know me going radio silent wasn’t appreciated, but you don’t need to guilt trip me further.” 
“I’m not joking around, Y/N. Everyone was a mess.” There was something in Jason’s tone that had Y/N pausing. His E/C eyes landed on Jason and watched how those eyes continued to glow green. The larger man took a deep breath and seemed to calm whatever raging thoughts he was having, “But it's fine now, because you are here.” Y/N furrowed his brow, but smiled nevertheless, “Yeah.” 
Silence overtook the room and Y/N is still unsure how to proceed. It wasn’t rare for the Batfamily to be a bit… dramatic. For fucks sake Bruce dresses as a giant furry and terrorizes criminals. However, there was something in Jason’s tone that had Y/N stilling. Contemplating his next words and wondering if they were the correct ones to say. 
“You’re awake.” Y/N’s head snapped to the door and standing there was Damian. He gave a smile to the youngest Wayne, “Damian, you're not one to usually enter without knocking.” The youngest strolled over and eyes Jason’s and Y/N’s hands, “I heard you two talking and figured it would be okay if I entered.” Y/N pursed his lips, “Well, true but Dami you should still–” 
“Father wants to talk to you, after dinner.” Green eyes met E/C and there it was again. A glint of something sinister lurking underneath the green. Y/N gulped and outstretched an arm. His palms up like he was approaching a dog, asking to pet it. Damian took the invitation and fell into Y/N’s embrace. Crawling onto Y/N’s bed and into the space underneath Y/N’s arm and against his chest, Damian nuzzled into the space with a content smile. 
Y/N felt his heart rate spike, something alerting him that he is surrounding himself with something dangerous. Which is preposterous. Yeah, Damian was a little psychotic and so was Jason, but they wouldn’t harm Y/N. They wouldn’t hurt anyone that didn’t deserve it. 
Yet, Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling of something being wrong. 
“When is dinner, Dami?” The younger boy hummed, “At 5:30.” Y/N glanced at the clock reading 5:25. Sighing, gently nudged the two away, “C’mon we have five minutes. Alfred will be upset with us for being late.” Damian grumbled while Jason outwardly expressed his discontent. When Y/N fully stood up, he noted that his clothes were different. 
“Who… who changed me?” Jason shrugged and Damian continued walking. Y/N looked back down at the sweatpants he was now wearing and the oversized shirt. None of which are his. 
“I-I should change first–” 
“C’mon Y/N, no one cares.” 
“Indeed, Drake has shown up before looking horrid. You look wonderful, like always.” Y/N said nothing to address those comments, but the time clicking on the clock had Y/N forgoing dressing and instead grabbing his house slippers. Damian was quick to grab his hand and Jason walked behind like he was protecting Y/N from something. 
The walk was silent, and there were some bruises on Y/N’s body that had him wincing sometimes. Nevertheless, when the sound of chatter began to echo through the halls, Y/N controlled his expressions and braced for the question and answers he wanted. 
“Well, look who finally woke up,” Dick joked and Y/N rolled his eyes, “I don’t want to hear that from the people who broke into my house.” He said it as a jest, but some part of Y/N wanted to mean every word he said. The three culprits didn’t even pretend to look guilty. 
Y/N gave Bruce a pointed look, he busied himself by pouring himself, Y/N, Dick, and Jason wine. Damian released Y/N’s hand to go sit at his respective seat, between Tim and Bruce, while Y/N took his between Bruce’s and Dick’s. Dick smiled at him, “Happy to have you at dinner. They have been quiet for the past few days.”
“If that is your way of saying I talk too much Dick, may I remind you who is the reason we had to enact a five minute quiet period during meals before.” The man laughed, unbothered by that little fact being thrown into the air. 
Dinner continued with the usual chatter, arguments, snide remarks, and dirty looks. Y/N’s absence was barely brought up, and instead he got filled in about what he missed while he was radio-silent. No one questioned the bruises on his face, or the now open secret that Y/N had tried to keep quiet about. 
“Y/N, please see me in my studies.” Bruce gently squeezed Y/N’s shoulder and Y/N followed, thanking Alfred as he did so and waving to all the brothers. The walk was tense, and something kept stirring in Y/N’s stomach that he was walking into something dangerous. Not a trap, because a trap means Y/N didn’t see it or feel it coming. However, he can feel this one. He can feel this one coming, something that would have his life changing, and yet he still kept walking forward. It’s the Waynes. His family. 
They wouldn’t do anything he didn’t like. 
Bruce’s study was as dark and aesthetic as Y/N remembers. A dark oak wood desk, bookshelves, the laptop and monitors, and papers. Y/N rarely set foot in here, mainly because there was never a need to, but he remembers being young and playing hide-n-seek in here with Dick. 
Bruce turned and gently cupped Y/N’s bruised face, turning it slightly to take in each discolored patch of skin and open wounds. Y/N smiled, “Bruce, it’s fine. I’m fine. You and everyone else are just being overdramatic.” 
“Is that what all of this is? Us overreacting?” Y/N gave a nervous chuckle at Bruce’s tone, one he’s heard when the man was Batman. 
“I mean, considering you broke into my house, that seems excessive.” Bruce released Y/N’s face and walked behind his desk, and motioned to a stack of papers. 
“Y/N, if entering your home is considered excessive, then I don’t know how you are going to handle this.” 
“Break in, Bruce. It was a break in, and what are you talking about?” Y/N picked up the paper, and quickly scanned the document. Bruce watched the color drain from Y/N’s face and horror take over those bright E/C eyes. They flickered from the top of the page back to the bottom, and then to Bruce and back to the paper. 
Y/N’s mouth opened and closed, trying to form words he was desperate to say. 
Wayne Enterprise Acquires L/N Industries
Bought. Bruce bought L/N Industries. Bruce bought the company from Y/N’s father, because Y/N isn’t the owner, and there is no way in hell that Y/N would have ever signed off on that. His mother’s company, now just a part of the Wayne monopoly. 
“Wha-what is- Why- Bruce! Bruce, what the hell is this?” Eyes filled with betrayal and anger as Y/N glared at Bruce. The man sighed, “It is as it says. L/N Industries in now under Wayne Enterprise-” 
“But why?! You’ve never shown any interest in the company.” Bruce wasn’t interested in L/N Industries. Wayne Enterprise was not a monopoly, and they didn’t buy companies unless that company was already going bankrupt. Bruce was interested in Y/N’s health, and vengeance. 
“Don’t take it personally, because it's not at you.” Y/N rolled his eyes, “It sure feels like it. Bruce, you know what this company means to me, you can’t just–” 
“Well I did.” Bruce met Y/N’s gaze head on, “The company is not in your name, you do not reap the profits, this acquisition was not a jab at you.” Y/N knows who it's a jab at, and he understands why Bruce is angry. However, it does not excuse the fact that this was a jab at the L/N family. 
Y/N clenched his jaw, “There’s no way he just signed it over like that.” Bruce handed him another piece of paper and sure enough, there was his father’s signature. Y/N stared at the inked lines, wondering just how had Bruce gotten that signature so quickly. 
“Blackmail really makes people move faster than the Flash.” 
“Wha… what blackmail?” Bruce raised an eyebrow and Y/N closed his eyes in misery, “Bruce, I get it. I do. He’s not a good father, but you didn’t have to buy the company. He’s literally going to ret-”
“You and I both know he would never retire. You would be working to the bone for him while he reaps all the profit.” Y/N rolls his eyes, and opens his mouth to say something but Bruce cuts him off, “Do NOT roll your eyes at me! Y/N this is serious.” 
Momentarily taken aback by the tone of voice, Y/N stared at a fuming Bruce. He processed the reaction and felt the heat in his stomach return, “Excuse you! You literally bought my family’s company, kind of if not really kidnapped me, and broke into my home! I have every right to be upset, let alone roll my eyes at you.” 
“That place wasn’t your home and you know it.” 
“Doesn’t change anything! That's like saying a break-in at a hotel room doesn’t count because the person doesn’t live in the hotel room.” Y/N could feel his heart rate pick up, and the reality of it all began setting in. 
“Holy shit. Fucking hell Bruce.” 
“Language.” 
“Do not ‘language’ me! Bruce, what the actual hell! All of this is way out of proportion for what happened.” Bruce slammed his hands on his desk, making some papers fly and the cup holding his pens fell. Blue eyes filled with rage glared at Y/N, “You can’t even say what happened! He hit you, Y/N. He beat you like a dog, and animal abusers still go to jail. He’s getting off with only losing the company. 
“And I know that those bruises are the only ones we do see!”  Y/N glared at Bruce, fighting back tears and biting his lips. Bruce sighed, his shoulders deflating and a pained expression on his face. He walked around the desk and hugged Y/N, bringing his son close, “Y/N, I’m sorry. I am. You’ll still be running the company, and will have a final say in things. It's just… God, Y/N. Not hearing from you and then seeing you like that...” Bruce took a deep breath, trying to control his emotions, "It was terrifying, Y/N. How could I let you stay there when all of that was done to you?"
Y/N wrapped his arms around Bruce, ignoring the feeling of dread of doing so. He ignored how Bruce’s arms tightened around him, “Oh Y/N, please. Please stay here where you are safe.” 
He didn’t want to admit that it sounded more of an order than a request. This was Bruce! His father in everything but blood and paper. 
“Just… just please don’t do that again.” 
“It won’t happen again. I promise.” 
______________________________________________________________
Not a whole lot of Yandere, but thats why there will be two parts! Not just one.
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emmyrosee · 1 year
Text
YALL BASED ON THIS VIDEO HERE IM SCREAMING-
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It’s been hours since you’ve smiled at Rintaro.
Not since this morning when you left. He was home today, all day, left to watch your three year old, and be home to see your nine year old. You’d kissed the side of his nose, reminded him of some chores, and everything was fine for you to go out and do your own set of errands.
But to come home to a trash bag sitting outside of the door and not in the barrel that got emptied today?
Oh. Screw smiling.
There may have been a small argument that broke out once you told him, about how he assumed you’d take the trash out since you were leaving the house- of which you snapped that it’s not your responsibility to automatically take out the trash when you leave.
Your son, Akito, was only left to watch the chaos, setting up the console he and his father were about to play on.
“I forgot, okay!” He snaps, rolling his eyes. “I’ll take it out later, it’s fine!”
“It’s not fine!” You yell back. “The trash was already taken! It’s worthless at this point to do it!”
He looks like he’s about to say something back, but you see him bite his tongue. “Good choice,” you snarl. Leaving him and Akito, you make your way upstairs and into your bedroom where you get changed into something that doesn’t emit outside-world feeling. You take a quick shower, wash your face, and when you step out still angry, you’re quick to make a new game plan.
Once you’re done with your small dose of self care, you stomp into the kitchen for something to eat, hoping that it’ll help curb any further anger coming from you both.
Crackers and cheese, some little slices of fruit which you intend to pair with they jelly you got on your last visit to the city.
You grab the jar and with a deep, frustrated exhale, you grip the cover and try to twist.
When it doesn’t budge, you feel your eye twitch.
You try again, to no avail. You grab the nearest towel in an attempt to get a better grip. No dice.
You sigh, tossing the rag to the side before stalking your way into the living room, grimace etched on your face.
“Can you open this?” You ask, and just as Rintaro pauses the game and tosses his controller aside to reach for the jar, you slip right past him and pass it to Akito, who takes it in his hands to pop open the lid.
With a small grunt he manages to open the lid, passing you the jar with a small smile, “here, ma.”
“Thank you, handsome man,” you hum, blowing him a kiss and blowing a raspberry at Rintaro when you make your way back to the kitchen. There’s a pause of silence, a question you don’t quite catch from your son, and suddenly, you hear your husband jump up from the couch. You smirk. It doesn’t take long before feet quickly pound their way into the kitchen, and a disgruntled Rintaro stands, pouting, in the doorway.
“What. Was that about?”
You shrug softly, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t give me that crap,” he says, brows furrowed in frustration. “You’re seriously going to use my own creation against me?”
“Your creation?” You scoff in disbelief. “First off, I don’t remember you carrying our two children around for nine damn months. Second of all, our children are not creations. They’re children.”
“Point one,” he begins, quickly walking over to you. “You were hot as fuck carrying around our spawn. Secondly? Last time I checked, our baby machines only worked when together.”
“Feral!” You snap, giving him a grossed out look before turning towards the snacks you’d been making. “Get the hell out of my kitchen, I don’t want you here- HEY!”
Before you can think, Rintaro reaches past you and grabs the jar of jam, quickly raising his arm above his head to get it out of your reach. You would’ve tickled him for it, but the jam was from a small business three cities over. And the fuckhead knew that, and you hate him for it.
“You’re such a pain!” You growl, making a jump for it. You barely come close. Your fingers wrap around his shoulder in an attempt to yank his arm down, but he tightens it up completely to make it immobile. You’re rendered completely helpless to your husbands cruelty.
“Akito!” You call your son in hopes for assistance, snarling up at your husband. Instantly, socked feet slip along the floor, and at the sight of his figure in the doorframe, Rintaro bears his teeth.
“Don’t help your mother, she has to learn a lesson!” He snaps.
You growl back, “don’t listen to your father, you and your sister’s snacks depend on it!” Akito’s green, confused eyes flick back and forth between you both, and if you weren’t so stubborn, you’d think about how absolutely hilarious this is.
Rintaro, in all his 185 cm glory, holding a damned jar of jam above his head, so much so a sliver of his side pokes out from his shirt, and you, crossing your arms childishly after making extreme reaches for the jar.
It’s ridiculous, it’s childish, and it’s perfect for your marriage.
Akito gnaws his lip, “I mean… Ma is the boss, dad-“
“If you scram, I’ll double your allowance this week.”
“Bye mom!”
With the last bit of hope you have, you watch as he skates his way back into the living room, eye twitching in annoyance. “Kaiya wouldn’t betray me like that!”
“She’s three, mom!”
“She’d still help!”
Left to your own pity, you once again make a reach for the jar, only for him to reel his arm back a little bit more. “Give me a break, I have snacks to make,” you say, voice pitched in annoyance and defeat.
“Tell me you won’t go to our son for husband jobs.”
“Tell me you’ll take out the trash when I tell you to!”
“I thought you were throwing it out!”
“Why would you not check!”
“I didn’t think I had to!”
“Don’t worry, I’ll check on your waking daughter,” Akito calls annoyed from the living room, the only thing breaking up your argument.
With a deep, exhausted breath, Rintaro slowly lowers his arm, though still keeping a slight distance between you. “Cant we both say we’re wrong?”
“I’m never wrong,” you snip.
“I know, but for the sake of waking our three year old up, please just cave with me. Please, baby. I’m-“
He’s cut off by your quick lunge for the jar. He yanks it out of the way, and you’re left chasing it like a dog with a treat. You do, however, hear your husband laugh, but it’s not the laughter of victory from a few moments ago.
It’s laughter of adoration.
“I will leave you.”
“Gotta get the jar first.”
You, once again, for the nth time in a row, make a reach for it, but this time, Rintaro’s free arm quickly wraps around your waist to encase you in a hug, and he leans you back into the most ridiculous dip you’ve ever been apart of. You can’t begin to fight your own laughter that bubbles past your lips, fingers instinctively gripping his collar for stability.
Once your titters are finished ringing in the air, he straightens you both up, relaxing as you thunk your head against his chest. The jar gets put down on the counter, and he kisses the crown of your head sweetly as his arms tug you close.
“You’re annoying,” you purr.
He chuckles, “I know.” He closes his eyes and gently breathes in your scent, “and I’m sorry about the trash my love. Even if I thought you took it out, I really should’ve just. Checked.” Long fingers gently smooth up your neck to gently massage the nape, and he hums as you melt like putty against him.
“Now it’s gonna sit,” you pout. “In the trash outside. And it’s gonna smell. And we’re gonna be the house with smelly ass trash.”
“I know,” he repeats, trying not to laugh at your concerns. “I’ll take care of it princess- and worst case scenario, I’ll write letters apologizing to the neighbors for our rotten trash.”
You snort softly against his collarbone as you continue to nuzzle closer, “I’m sorry I went to Akito to open my jar,” you confess, angling your head up at him. He smirks and leans down to capture your lips in a kiss, his hands moving up to cup your cheeks lovingly.
“You wanna know a secret?” He asks against your lips.
You hum in intrigue.
“I’m pissed because I tightened them all when you were in the shower, so you’d have to talk to me.”
“SERIOUSLY?”
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sanatomis · 18 days
Text
⋆.ೃ࿔* ── 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.
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“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. 
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“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.
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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.
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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.
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© MADE BY SANATOMIS — please, refrain from stealing, copying, or reposting any of my works.
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strawberrystepmom · 7 months
Text
cw children, cw families. gojo and f!reader were idiots in love and they are now married and have a baby. my effortlessly good painter gojo hc won out over being normal in my brain today so yeah. reader is referred to as mom/mama/mother and princess, satoru makes a joke about readers breasts. wc 1.1k
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Your morning has started far quieter than they usually do.
The day is overcast, no sunshine through your floor to ceiling bedroom windows, but you don’t mind. It feels good to embrace the cloudy days that have come with the changing of seasons, no harsh light to shock you awake. That job will be for your identical menaces in the coming months, the gummy smile of your morning person nine month old and her unabashedly obsessed father Satoru always eager to be your twin alarm clocks with their giggling and playful babbling at each other.
There’s nothing they love more than giving you the gift of four identical blue eyes blinking at you while you come to your senses every morning. You can almost admit aloud that you’ve become a morning person since becoming a parent, the delightful giggles of your daughter giving you the motivation to conquer anything and everything you can.
For today though, you wake gently, softly rolling from your side to flat on your back but something feels off. There are no hushed giggles, no silly songs being recited with children’s show host precision.
Your bed is empty and quiet and you feel…sad. Perhaps in the past you would’ve found this to be a luxury - no freakishly long limbs of your husband starfished across the bed to keep you pinned to it, no baby to tug at the earrings you forgot to take out last night, but instead it just feels like a less welcome start to the day.
Lingering in bed doesn’t feel good so you roll again, dropping your legs over the edge and sliding your feet into your waiting slippers. Scuffing across the floor, you yawn and stop in your tracks hearing voices from inside Satoru’s closet.
Well, a voice and some baby giggles, anyway.
“Can you say mama?”
Leaning against the door frame of the walk in, you stifle a laugh listening to your husband babble at his little girl who babbles back excitedly. Peeking around the corner, you see him standing in front of the portrait of you that he painted on your 24th birthday, little babe held to his chest and leaning her head on his shoulder.
“That’s her, that’s right. Your perfect mom.”
He sighs and your heart squeezes watching the two of them sway side to side, your baby who is growing into an independent toddler every day reaching out as if she recognizes your face. You’re sure she does, actually; the painting is an impeccable likeness and it still frustrates you 6 years later that he managed to become so good at a craft you’ve spent your life working on in less than a month.
Someday you’ll tell her the entire story, your version of it anyway. For now you’re content to let her father tell his side considering it was one of the most grand and romantic gestures he had performed at the time in an effort to show you how serious he was about your relationship.
“Listen, little girl,” he starts, unknowing that he has captured both of your attention. “I know I’m going to have to tell you this again eventually but do not ever bring a man or woman or anyone else into this house that loves you less than I love your mother.”
She coos at the sound of his voice and he chuckles down at her, kissing the downy white hair atop her head.
“I mean it. If they won’t stay up for four nights straight to get a start on painting your nose from memory, leave ‘em behind.”
With this, you giggle and the attention of both of your menaces is captured. Your daughter squeals from over Satoru’s shoulder, holding one little hand out and making a grabbing motion and he copies her excited babbling with his own.
“My little tricksters snuck out of bed this morning!”
Grinning, you cradle your little girl against your chest and kiss her temple, inhaling the clean smell of her shampoo and skin. She’s been bathed and everything.
“You’re the best.”
You feel the need to remind Satoru at this moment and he grins, bending to give you a good morning kiss.
“Duh.”
Giggling, you let your wiggly daughter settle herself and the three of you stand in front of the painting. You recognize the younger woman permanently captured in it, the soft lovesick look in her eyes, and it amuses you to know he took extra time to capture you exactly like that. Hopelessly in love.
He could capture you using the same medium and you’d look identical to how you did back then - utterly stricken.
“Did you really stay up practicing for four nights?”
“Princess, I stayed up practicing for four weeks.”
You snort, looking up at him from the corner of your eye.
“There’s no need to embellish now, you’ve already won me over.”
He shrugs, pulling the two of you close to his chest. He leans over his little family, cheek resting against the top of your head.
“But what if I never want to stop winning you?”
You reach up and brush his hair off of his forehead affectionately. Every touch you give him is full of love and every glance carries tenderness.
There will come a time when your daughter will be old enough to gawk at the love the two of you have for one another. Maybe she’ll stick her tongue out and roll her eyes just as you remember her father doing more than once or perhaps she’ll simply smile and hide her face in the collar of her shirt, dreaming of a love like what’s in front of her someday.
“I mean, I could paint you again. You are coming up on the big three oh and I have to say that a few things have grown since back then if you know what I mean.”
He waggles his eyebrows suggestively and drops his voice suggestively low. You flick him on the forehead and laugh about it, your daughter joining in on your giggles as a nine month old is apt to do.
The thing you hope she’ll understand the most is that sometimes love isn’t just big paintings and grand gestures and sweet looks. It’s being grounded enough to give each other a hard time when things are good and a good time when things are hard.
You are fortunate enough to have the best of everything with her father.
“Let’s go make breakfast, Monet.”
You turn on your heel and your husband follows closely behind, small steps to match your own. He looks over his shoulder one final time to look at the painting of you on his closet wall and he smiles, soft and warm.
“Whatever you say, my muse.”
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luversgirl · 1 year
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TO BE SO LONELY, rafe cameron
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summary: after all the pogues forget the youngest roguelege girl’s birthday she goes to the beach only to see someone she never expected remembered her special day.
notes: here’s me randomly dropping this since i’ve been lurking lately
warnings: y/n kinda maybe being dramatic?
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“GOOD morning” y/n smiled as she watched her older brother walk into the kitchen.
“uh huh” john mumbled as she walked past the girl barely agnolaging her precise.
“where are you going?” the girl asked as the boy slip his shoes on and grabbed is keys from the counter.
“i’m gonna pick up jj and meet kiara and pope at the beach”
“what about me?” y/n looked at her brother as he opened the front door.
“um…” john b turned his head to look at his little sister “you can just chill here” he spoke before walking out of the chatue leaving the girl there alone not even giving her time to reply.
“happy birthday to me”
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after texting the rest of the pogues to see if they remembered the girl’s birthday or even wanted to hangout, but of course they all forgot and didn’t seem to even want to be around her.
sighing, y/n placed her phone face down in the purple beach towel he was sitting on and brought her knees to her chest.
y/n was never one of those self centered people who expected all the attention on her she was just hoping to have a nice birthday seeing as it was the first one without her father, big john.
ever since he’d gone missing y/n watched her brother drifting farther and father away from her taking their, or dare she say his friends now.
leaving her alone.
as the girl stared off into the distance rafe cameron stood not to far from her wondering why she was sitting alone on her birthday.
“y/n” the familiar voice of the kook king came from behind the girl.
she quickly wiped her tears and turned to look up at him from her spot.
“rafe, please don’t start you’re shit just leav-“
“i wasn’t gonna start anything” rafe walked towards her up to the point where he was still standing but by her side.
“what are you doing?“ y/n asked as she watched the cameron boy sit beside her in the same position, knees to his chest.
“i’m sitting with you on you’re birthday”
the rougtledge girl instantly wiped her head to look at rafe in shock.
“h- how did you…”
“i remembered from last year” he said making a small smile make its way onto y/n’s face “it’s still the same day, yeah?” rafe joked making y/n giggled for the first time that day.
“yeah” she spoke through her light giggle making rafe smile.
“good, good” rafe looked at y/n as she looked at the scene in front of them “so.. where’s your little pogue friends?” rafe watched as the small smile on her face disappeared.
“um they went… out” y/n spoke as her smile dropped as she turned her head to looking back at the water.
“i think you’re lying” he stated arms wrapped around his knees closer as they touched his chest.
y/n sighed giving in “they, uh forgot”.
“what do you mean they forgot?” rafe ferwwod his eyebrows as he quickly turned his head to look at the girl.
“i think you know what i mean rafe” y/n chuckled lightly looking at him.
“how could they just forget? i mea-“
“rafe” y/n stopped him in his rant.
“no y/n, their you’re friends they should remember you’re birthday, even you remembered my birthday and i’m well uh…” rafe trailed off.
“…not the nicest person?” y/n spoke slowly hoping not to offend rafe since she didn’t have anyone else to talk too.
rafe reached his hand up scratching the back of his neck “yeah”.
“well not that this wasn’t the most awkward thing in the world…” y/n trailed off as she started to get up.
“wait!” rafe quickly exclaimed standing up as y/n did “do uh, maybe want a ride?” the cameron boy spoke.
“that would be great actually” y/n smiled at rafe making him grin and look down “my bikes over here” rafe and the girl started walking to his car.
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“where did she go?” john b questioned for the 30th time in the same hour as him and the rest of the pogues sat in the chatue.
“john b don’t worry about it, i’m sure she’s with some other friends” jj spoke as he sat on one of the three couches in the sun room smoking a joint.
“yeah i mean she’s probably just hanging out with some other friends or something and forgot to text” sarah said as she sat beside john b.
“do her friends include rafe?” pope spoke up sitting up from beside jj looking past john b and sarah.
the rest of the group turned to look in to same direction as pope only to see y/n leaning against rafe’s dirt bike holding a bag from a boutique sarah recognized as he looked at her like she was the only girl in the universe.
“oh fuck no” john b muttered before jumping off the couch with the pogues following along “get away from my sister rafe!” he yelled at the standing pair.
y/n quickly turned away from rafe and to her brother annoyed at his loud antics and decided to give him and the pogues a piece of her mind.
“fuck off john b!” she yelled back walking towards the group with rafe filling beside her.
“you got this?” rafe muttered into y/n’s ear as they walked over close together.
y/n turned to look at him and nodded then slipping her hand into his making him grin.
“what the hell!” jj yelled as the group and y/n met along with rafe.
“what are you doing!? y/n that’s rafe!” kiara yelled at the girl confused and angry at her.
“yeah no shit kie!” y/n yelled back surprising the group with the out burst seeing as they’ve never seen her like that before.
“y/n, do you not remember what he’s done to us?!” pope yelled very angry with his younger sister.
“actually i remember what he’s done to you and honestly why should i care?!” the girl yelled back at pogues now angry with her as well as rafe.
“he’s literally the scum of the earth!” jj yelled making y/n squeeze rafe’s hand.
“well you know at least he can remember someone’s birthday!” y/n finally burst as she stared to tear up.
“someones birthday why does tha-“ john b started to yell.
“yeah, john b someone’s birthday. it’s not like they celebrate every single one their friends birthdays and spend ours panning partys for them and working triple shifts to get the money to buy them gifts!” the girl yelled not holding back.
“y/n we-“
“save it jj” y/n spoke not bothering to raise her voice.
“i do everything for you guys, i cook, i clean and i even do all you’re fucking laundry but now i’m done” y/n finished as salty trail made their way down her face.
seeing the girl in front of him, rafe lightly tugged on y/ns hand silently asking if she wanted to leave.
the roughtled girl accepted his offer turning way from the people she thought were her friends walking over the rafe’s bike and leaving with a single one of them stopping her.
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taglist: @faeaura @prettyboystarkey @euthoricspidey @pankowfruitsnacks @rafecameronswhore @yunho-leeknow @outeredits-jess @totallynotkaibiased
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cherry-leclerc · 3 months
Text
back to you ☆ cs55
genre: fluff, oldmoney!reader, strangers to lovers
word count: 3.1k
Fixated from the moment he first saw you, Carlos stays missing someone whom he never even properly met. But that all seems to change one night when you unexpectedly show up to a business dinner.
req!... i'm such a liar lmaooo (iykyk). hope you enjoy, my lil anons :) hope this heals some of the heartbreak we all endured today !!(*bashes head against keyboard*)
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It almost seemed like you had something up your sleeve, a tactic to retrieve all of his attention away from the camera shoved right in front of him - media duties.
“Hello guys, just wanted to come on here to say that I think we gave it all we could during today’s race but there is definitely always room for improvement…” Blah, blah, blah. 
He can’t quite figure out what he’s saying because his brown eyes are attached to the pretty girl walking right in front of him. Not behind him, trying to catch up. Not besides him, begging for a photo. Nope, right in front of him as if you could care less that you have one of the most popular drivers to ever exist almost chasing after you. 
He could hear you mumbling about God knows what to the girl walking besides you. The Spaniard feels like a total creep when it comes to him becoming more alert to possibly catch your name. As you were saying? The media team manager stares back expectantly once Carlos blanks out. Though it wasn’t that unusual. 
The 29 year old flickers his gaze back to the camera and then back to where you were, only except, you’re gone. Out of sight and his heart stops for a nanosecond.
“Onto the next week. Vamos.”
-
“So then, you have your upcoming shoot for the new fireproofs, testing, stimulator - if we have time, interview at…” 
Carlos tunes out as he blinks at the never ending list as if it were just another Monday. Charles nods attentively, though he also looks far too uninterested. They were exhausted.
“And dinner tonight to meet our new sponsors.”
“Another one?” Charles asks, a slight crack in voice as he tries to pretend he wasn’t at all annoyed. “We just had one last night.”
Maria musters up a stern look. “Yes, again. They’re a lovely family, so we want to impress them with two well-behaved drivers.” The Ferrari boys swallow their laughter as they nod their heads. Got it. 
It takes all of Carlos’ remaining willpower to get ready for dinner that night. On the way to the small Italian restaurant, he second guesses even showing up. He could fake a fever. A sore throat. Shaking his head, he curses as he steps out of his custom Ferrari. 
“Oh good, I thought it was just going to be me,” Charles jokes as soon as he spots the Spaniard. Carlos chuckles before greeting the team. About 10 minutes go by before the Monegasque grows impatient as a child. I could have finished watching my movie.
“Shut up,” Fred murmurs before abruptly standing up from his seat. “Ah! È così bello rivedere finalmente te e la tua famiglia!” Choking on his champagne, Charles scrunches his nose before flying up and introducing himself. Carlos bites back a smile as he follows his lead. 
And there he sees you, standing elegantly with a silk dress that looks as soft as your skin. You’re smiling sweetly at everyone, stepping in to not just shake their hands, but also go in for a small hug. Your mother and father repeat the same action, though they later focus all of their attention on Fred and Maria. 
The Monegasque kicks his teammate’s shin. Carlos winces as he shoots fiery daggers. “We hit the jackpot.”
“What?”
Charles' shoulders drop theatrically. “Are you kidding me? Are we looking at the same girl right now or are you just blind?” 
But he did see you, and he never quite forgot about you since that day. He could feel the tips of his ear burn bright red as you made your way over to him and his teammate. Charles, so nice to meet you, the green eyed boy beams before going in for a hug. You smile from ear to ear.
“Nice to meet you, too! I must admit; I’m a little starstruck right now.” Charles blushes fast as he stutters his way around such a compliment, even if he’s received thousands of the same one before. “Ah, this is Carlos.”
“Hello,” he feels himself saying. “Carlos, nice to meet you.” As soon as you look up at him, his breath hitches and fears you might feel his sweaty palms flourishing against your soft ones. And if you do, you choose to ignore it as you share a small smile, the kind you share when you see someone after 15 years. 
The kind that seems forced.
“Ditto.”
With one last glance, you excuse yourself before making your way over to where your parents and Fred chatter about upcoming plans. Carlos blinks. “Wow. No hug,” Charles points out. “That’s weird. She was basically giving them out for free.” 
“Be quiet.” 
The remainder of the night you kept to yourself, occasionally inputting your own opinion with a polite smile drawn onto your fruit punch lips. Very well mannered, Fred would approve as you would bow your head with shyness. Carlos quirked a brow of curiosity. 
He wondered what he might’ve done wrong. Had he been too forward? Cold? Often, his parents would claim he could be like that sometimes, so maybe? He wasn’t clinging onto the fact that he was the only one who didn’t receive a warm greeting from you, but he was left with questions.
“E tu, tesoro?”
“What about me?” you repeat, hair fanning along your face like a shiny curtain. Maria chuckles. How do you feel about being a part of this new chapter? You think about it for a second before settling with the safest answer. “Very proud, there’s nothing better than tying links with such a superior team.” Fred roars with genuine laughter as he pats your father’s shoulder. Smart girl.
“Why fine jewelry?”
“Pardon?” 
The inquiry was directed towards your parents - who would clearly have the answer - but his eyes were trained on you, leaving you to fend for yourself. Lips part slowly as you connect with Carlos’ intense attention. “I’m curious, that’s all. I’m delighted we have you as our sponsors, but I was just wondering what made you dive into the business? Must be hard.”
Squinting your eyes, you click your tongue. It’s in our blood, your father’s voice cuts your train of thought. It’s what we do, what we love. But his warm gaze sticks to you like hot glue. You clear your throat before returning to your wide smile. 
“I think it’s safe to say that diamonds are beautiful. They are scarily so crystal clear that for a moment one might search for a trace of color. And then they do come in other colors, so it’s really no problem,” you say, soft chuckles circling the table. “But I believe it’s also safe to say that we don’t often think about how they got here, shining around many ring fingers.” Your mother approves as she shows her mind-blowing diamond cut. 
“Miners are the answer. They work hard - get their hands dirty - because they know that while it may not be easy to find such precious things…” His eyes roam your lips before dancing back up to your orbs. “It’s very well worth it.” Taking a sip from your glass of wine, you raise a brow. “That’s why.”
-
“It doesn’t even feel that tough to wear these pieces,” Charles squeaks as he slips on a white gold bracelet around his wrist. “They’re breathtaking.”
Clapping, you squeal at his words. For a moment, Carlos thinks about punching his teammate for getting to see your good side. They’re great, thank you again. You just tip your head towards him to confirm you heard, and slide away. Carlos sighs.
“This is ridiculous. She can’t even look at me.” The Spaniard bites his cheek. “Do you think she hates me?”
“For doing what?” Charles asks, face pinched with confusion. Carlos huffs, arms flying up.
“I have no idea!”
“Well…I don’t think so, but it wouldn’t hurt to ask, right?”
“No.” He groans. “Can you picture how awkward that would be? There’s no way.”
“Suit yourself.”
-
Pouting, the brown eyed boy zigzags his way into the studio, mentally preparing himself for hours of blinding lights. “Buongiorno, Carlos!” Spotting your father with his arms wrapped around his wife, he walks over with a tired smile. How are you guys? “We’re fine, son, thank you for asking. Tell me, are you excited for this weekend?” He instantly stands up straighter.
“I am. The Tifosi are always great to be around. Gets hectic, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.” 
“I can imagine. My wife and daughter are always amped up when it’s finally Monza’s turn.” He hums, almost as if he’s reminiscing. “Tell you, my baby would beg for us to take her to cheer on her favorite drivers. It’s kind of a full circle moment so don’t mind if my wife gets emotional.”
“Stop,” your mother sniffles as she shares a grimace. Told you, your father mouths. Carlos laughs. 
“I completely get it, it must mean a lot to all three of you. Maybe that’s what makes this partnership work all the more.” Your fathers winks, large fingers wagging over at the Spaniard. Working over time. I respect it. 
“I see why my daughter likes you.”
Carlos halts. “Sorry?”
The older man pants, seeming comedically defeated. “Are you kidding me? She adores you! You've been her favorite driver since you joined Formula 1.” He shrugs his shoulders. “Her love towards the sport had a huge impact on us to join as sponsors, but to be fair, we probably still would have done it. Like I said, it holds a special place in our hearts.”
“Buongiorno,” your soft voice echoes, skipping happily to greet the Ferrari team. Everyone’s energy quickly picks up as you flow with such easiness, skirt wrapping around your waist, making you seem like the only flower in an empty garden. Talk to you in a bit, you cheer as you make your way up to your parents. You stop dead in your tracks as soon as you spot the grumpy brunette. Like always, he can physically see you create a wall around yourself, keeping you from him. He felt like the Beast drooling over the rose inside the glass. “Good morning, Carlos. Logo looks good,” you hum, dark red pedicure pointing at your last name printed onto his fireproof. “Can’t wait to see how it looks on Charles.”
His jaw ticks. “Why don’t I call him then?”
“That would be lovely.”
He’s jealous. Of course he fucking is. He might have found out your whole act is a facade but that didn’t stop him from feeling this way. He could have been your favorite at one point, but what about now? It sure as hell didn’t seem like it.
“She wants to see you.”
The Monegasque furrows his brows. Who? But as soon as he notices his teammates' sour face, he registers the reason for his bad mood. “Stop pouting. You look like you just sucked on a lemon.” Carlos shoots a deadpan expression. “This has gone too far. It’s obviously bothering you.”
“What? You nagging?”
“Okay, ouch.” The green eyed boy takes a small step towards the Spaniard. “You don’t like it that she’s ignoring you because you like her.”
Carlos jumps off the couch. “I do not!” Charles hums. 
“Oh shit, good, then I could ask her out.” He beams. “I wouldn’t want things to get weird between us.” Carlos' heart almost jumps out of his chest as he grows nauseous at the thought of you saying yes. He continues. “I’m telling you; I have a good feeling.” The brown eyed boy clenches his jaw. “It’s like this - I could see myself marrying her, having a baby heiress-”
“Okay fine, I like her!” He pants. “She drives me so fucking crazy. Whether she looks my way or not, she makes my head spin. Ever since I saw her at the Canada GP, she’s been imprinted into my brain like a lecture I’ve been told over and over, time and time again. It makes me sick that she seems to almost get sad when she’s around me. The way she can never look at me the way I’ve always looked at her. And I’m…” He looks down at his race boots. “I’m too afraid of ruining something that I don’t even have a chance at.”
The Monegasque pats him on the shoulder, lips stretched out into a teasing smirk. “Now, was it that hard to admit your feelings?”
-
It was that hard to admit his feelings. He thought about it for the first time since he met you. Confess everything that’s been locked away deep inside of him; claim his feelings like some kind of gold medal. But then he saw you radiating pure perfection and he would turn the other way. You hated him, he’s sure.
“Alright Carlos, push, now push.” 
He could taste it - sweet victory that he badly craved. If he played his cards right then he could get second place, which was pretty good in comparison to past results. 
The Spaniard tries to not feel too upset about coming in third and waves up at the Tifosi who let out blood curdling screams. Pride rushes through his veins as he walks onto the podium, he didn’t even mind all the attention. Especially the kind you were gifting him with.
The way you smile so big that your perfect teeth shine up at him, eyes crinkling like a love letter. Cheekbones slightly pink from cheering so loud but also from the bright sun. He swore he was on some kind of drug. 
Making his way back into the motorhome after all the interviews, he bumps into you and your parents. “Like it?” he asks as he displays his trophy. 
“Definitely,” your father beams. “You deserve it, son, enjoy it.” After a few more affirmations, he and your mother walk away. Brown orbs find your own. 
“Have fun?” He tries to ease his deep voice, to appear more outgoing, to not scare you away. And yet, you nod, looking down. 
“He’s right. You totally deserve it.” And for what seems like the first time, you bless him with your warm stare. “Felicidades, Carlos.” Pink paints his cheeks. You speak Spanish? Your eyes grow wide as you feverishly shake your head. “I-I- I don’t, but I’ve picked up on a few things here and there…”
“From me.” He tilts his head. “You actually pay attention to me.” 
You can’t help stutter like a broken record. “Of course-e, I ha-ave ears.” You show them off like a weak justification. “See?” you squeak. Playing with the hem of your dress - that had him swallowing a string of moans the moment you walked into the garage that morning - you slowly started backing away. “I should go now…” You point towards the sliding doors. “See you later?”
But he knew there would be no later. Fuck, this was the most you’ve spoken to him since, well, ever. He wouldn’t let that slip away so easily. Even if his heart got bruised along the way. 
“Did I do something for you to hate me?” 
Your brows narrow like a little kid. “You think I hate you?” 
“It’s okay if you do, I suppose, but I’m just lost as to where that happened? Did I-”
“I don’t hate you,” you softly speak up, eyes shut in disbelief that you’ve made him feel that way. You blink back at him. “I promise you, you’ve done nothing wrong.” Okay, he confirms.
“Why can’t you talk to me then like you do with everybody else? Why can’t you even spare me a passing glance?”
His voice sounds desperate now, he knows it, but he was desperate. Now you were embarrassed that he continues to bring up more and more of your poor behavior - but it was never intentional. You twirl a strand of your hair before releasing it.
“You intimidate me.” 
The Spaniard squeezed his fist around the trophy. For a moment, he thought he would dent the steel. Your stomach drops at the sight and he feels guilty for proving you right. He lets out a shaky breath. 
“I’m not a bad guy, y’know? I’m sure it may seem like it, but…” He licks his lips. “I’m not.”
Doe eyes flutter like butterfly wings. “I believe you, Carlos.”
“Good. Now, would you please tell me why you always escape when I’m around?” You softly curse as you pinch your hand for a second. 
“I wasn’t lying; you do intimidate me. But not in the way you might think.” Like an angel, you make your way closer. “You’re my favorite driver, you know that?” The Spaniard’s brown eyes grow wide. You laugh. “Ever since you-”
“Joined Formula 1.”
Your jaw drops. “My father ratted me out?” Panicking, you pace the room back and forth. You could only look at him for a couple of seconds before planting your stare at anywhere else that isn’t him. “I told him not to say anything! Oh God.” You let out a maniatic chuckle. “I swear it’s just a tiny crush, it’s not even that deep - I’ll get over it!”
Now it’s his turn to geek out. “You have a crush on me?” Crap, you groan, biting down on your nail. He didn’t mention that part, did he? Brown strands of hair shake back and forth as you sigh. 
“Forget I said anything, I am so sorry for making things awkward-”
“I’ve seen you before.” What? The 29 year old winces. “At the Canada GP. You were walking with a friend.” Synthia, you whisper to yourself. “I was being filmed for feedback on the race and you were about 5 steps in front of me.” You counted? “I said about - and for months, you were all I could think about. You sort of stuck to me like a nostalgic scent. I don’t know why I felt the need to talk to you, I mean, it’s never happened to me before. I looked away for a second and you were gone.” He shares a lopsided smile. “Then I saw you again.”
“And I blocked you out.” You bite your lip. “Shit, Carlos…I had no idea you felt this way.” He shrugs.
“It’s my fault. I never told you.” Still, you try to reason but he only brushes you off. “It’s not your fault.” 
“But it is,” you whimper. “I acted like a complete snob and belittled you.” Your heart breaks at the image. “And you’re telling me it’s been mutual all along?” 
“Looks like it. This is good though.” How? The brunette winks as he pulls you in. “Because now we do know and I can take you out sometime?” You quirk a brow.
“It works just like that?” 
He hums, comfortable with the two trophies pressed up against him. “Only if you want it to be like that.” You can practically hear your crazy heartbeat with the way he’s looking down at you - as if he’s just discovered a previously nonexisting star. With soft hands pressed onto his suit, your eyes twinkle.
“Just like that, then.”
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cherryredstars · 3 months
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Can you make a dbf (dads best friend) miguel where there at a family reunion and miguel cant resist not fucking you before anyone notices you two are gone.?
Ps. I love your stories🤭
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Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x gn!reader
Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Penetrative Sex, Sexual Touching, Slapping, Gagging, Spitting, Implied Age Gap
Summary: Did you really think he forgot your gift?
A/N: Another request that two different people wanted LMAO. Thank you for reading my stories, love!
Word Count: 1.5K (Not Edited)
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Four years.
It had been four years since he had last seen you. Of course you had been home within those four years, but Miguel was always too busy to drop by and catch a view of you before you’d eventually fly back out of state for university. But now, you’re here. To stay this time. And when Miguel got the invitation from your father for a party celebrating your return, who was he to decline?
Maybe not seeing you for those four years was a blessing in disguise. The second he had walked out to the backyard, your dad had instantly ushered him to you. You were talking to some old friends that you had kept a long distance connection with, turning around when your father had called your name. Miguel was a sucker the moment you had turned around, a dazzling smile on your face. His breath had stilled when you leaned up on your toes, turning your head slightly to press a kiss to both of his cheeks in greeting. The joyful tone you had said his name in had him practically purring. Cute little you who was about to enter the realities of adulthood staying by his side to chat and pester him like you were still in high school. Always a fucking tease.
And the day kept on getting better and better. You always seemed to be hovering somewhere near him. Always came up to him and your father for seemingly the tiniest things. He didn’t fail to notice the small glances you had given him across the yard. Could feel your eyes straying to him every now and then. You were always in his peripheral vision. Almost like you wanted his attention. And when you had come over to him asking him to help you get some things inside to help replenish the snack table, he had to hide his smirk by taking a sip of his beer. 
It wasn’t long until he had you pinned in your childhood bedroom, cheek pressed against the door as he cooed in your ear, “Oh my poor baby. Missed me, hm? Couldn’t keep your greedy little eyes off of me.”
You could only whine, wiggling your hips as you felt his hard on pressing against your ass. Miguel groaned against your ear, grinding into you. He couldn’t help the wicked smile as you let out pleased sighs and desperate whines. His teeth tugged on your earlobe, causing you to gasp. 
“What is it, amor? What’s with your little fit?” He whispered hotly into your ear. You only huffed, pressing your hands against the door to push yourself harder against him. Unhappy with the attitude, Miguel stopped the slow rutting he was doing against you. The desperate ‘please!’ you whispered instantly lifted his mood. 
His hand slid down your back, snaking to your front. You move your forehead to press against the door, mouth hanging open as you look down to watch his hand slip through the front of your pants and into your underwear. “I think I know. Upset I didn’t get you a welcome home gift, my greedy baby?”
You almost collapsed against him when his fingers grazed over your slit, gathering the arousal spilling from you, “Almost forgot how much of a spoiled brat you are. You want a gift, I’ll give you one.”
You gave a desperate cry as Miguel pressed his fingers harder against you, your hips bucking. Miguel chuckled darkly, his other hand beginning to under your pants and pull them down. As he did so, he grazed the wet spot in your underwear, making your cheeks flame. His eyes darkened as he began to pull your underwear down, the soft flesh of your ass being revealed to him. Miguel hummed at the sight, giving it a firm slap that had your back arching. He rubbed the reddening skin, cooing down at you. 
He kept one hand on your ass, rubbing it in his large hands as his fingers left your slit. His fingers were sticky with arousal, heavy with your scent. It made him impossibly harder, his cock twitching in his pants. His fingers went back to you, circling your hole before he stuffed them in. You cried out at the sudden stretch, your hips moving to try to get away from him. It only encouraged him to give your ass another spank. 
Your nails clawed at the door, making a dreadful squeaking noise as Miguel pumped his fingers in and out of you rapidly. You can hear the noise of his palm hitting against your body as he works his fingers, causing you to whine loudly. Miguel’s hand was quick to leave its place on your ass cheek, slapping it over your mouth. 
“Shhh, baby. You don’t want me to take away your gift, do you?” Miguel hissed and you rapidly shook your head no. 
Miguel cooed at your quick obedience, rewarding you with a kiss to the back of your neck that made you melt into him. You could feel Miguel’s finger pressing into that pleasurable spot inside of you, and your hips bucked as you felt your orgasm approaching. But before you could reach the peak, Miguel’s fingers left you. You cried against his hand, your hips wiggling to try to get back that stimulation. Miguel laughed meanly at you, his hand slapping down on your ass, leaving a wet spot from his drenched fingers. 
You could hear the sound of fabric and a belt, hearing Miguel's relieved sigh when he freed his leaking cock from his briefs. You tried to turn your head to see, but your body stiffened as Miguel’s belt slid into your face. His hand left your mouth, the taste of leather filling your mouth. Your body stifled when you felt the buckle, feeling the belt tighten around the back of your head to keep it in place. You whined against it, the sound being effectively muffled. 
Your body jumped again when you felt a wetness slide down the hole, gasping as you realized Miguel had spit on you. Your wiggling hips only made it drip further down your skin. You heard Miguel spit again, but instead of it landing on you, he worked the saliva up and down his cock. After the saliva coated his cock, he pressed the head of it to your opening. You wasted no time rubbing yourself against it, earning a moan from the both of you. While one of Miguel’s hands held his cock in place, his other hand went to grab your wrists and hold them against your back. The only thing holding you in place was your forehead pressed against the door and your two legs. 
Slowly, Miguel pushed his cock into you, making you cry out. Wet noises filled the room as he slid further and further into you, your walls sucking him in. Miguel let out a groan as he bottomed out, his hand coming to grip your wrist as he stared down at where the two of you met. He gave you an experimental thrust, chuckling as your legs almost gave out. That experimental thrust was the only warning he gave you before he pulled out to the tip, and snapped his hips all the way to the hilt again. You screamed against the leather belt as he did it over and over again, giving you deep punishing thrusts. You body shook with the force of it, and the door rattled as he kept fucking you into it. You can feel yourself pulsing and twitching as he adjusted his angle to hit your gummy spot, that sweet orgasm building up inside of you again. 
You can feel tears rushing from your eyes, and the only reason you had not collapsed to the floor was Miguel’s tight grip holding you up. Around your gag, you screamed Miguel’s name, your body convulsing as that orgasm ripped through you. Miguel grunted as you came, his orgasm quickly approaching. You sobbed as his thrusts didn’t stop hitting that sensitive spot, the overstimulation getting to you as another orgasm built up like a raging fire. Miguel let go of your hands, reaching to the front of you to give your sex a mean pinch that had you exploding again at the same time his seed began to spill inside of you. Miguel let out a dragged moan as he stilled, his cock twitching inside of you. 
You panted heavily as Miguel undid the belt around your head and began to pull out of you. You whined as he left you, feeling an aching hollowness inside of you. Another whimper left you when you felt his cum begin to seep from your hole, a protest on your lips as he quickly slipped your underwear up to you so you could spill it into your clothing. The wetness was uncomfortable, feeling it continue to leave you. Miguel only chuckled as he readjusted himself, watching a dark patch beginning to form in your underwear.
“Welcome home, kid.”
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lovelybrooke · 10 months
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The way things were before (Platonic Yandere Muzan x reader)
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This was inspired by the last episode of the latest season where we get some Muzan lore. This is kinda my first time writing real angst so tell me what you think. Keep in mind this is based on the anime and I haven't actually read the manga.
Pt.2
Check out my other works here: Masterlist.
Anger.
Ever since Muzan was young, one emotion he always felt was anger. It stuck to him like a tumor, destroying him from the inside out.
He felt anger for his illness that prevented him from having a real life. He felt anger for having to be tested on by doctors nearly daily. He felt anger that people looked down upon him as he grew weaker and weaker. But more importantly, he felt anger that nothing changed. He never got better, he never got stronger, no matter how much time went by.
As he aged, and his illness got worse, Muzan accepted the fact that his anger, his hatred for everyone would never leave him.
That was, until he found you. His beautiful, wonderful child, the only thing that could quell the rage inside of him.
You weren't his biologically, no, but that didn't matter to him. Before he was too sick to leave his bed, Muzan found you orphaned living on the streets and took you in. Ever since, you've been repaying him by taking care of him.
"Father, it is time to take you medicine." There you were, right on time. Muzan refused to take his medicine from anyone else, even his most notable doctors.
He was too weak to sit up, simply moving his head to acknowledge you, watching as you sat down in front of him. Muzan didn't complain as you moved his head so the medicine could travel done his throat more smoothly.
Once done, you lay his head back down, putting the small bowl down next to you, blessing him with a kind smile. "How are you feeling today father?" You question.
"I'm doing fine now that you are here, my child." You giggle, the smile reaching your eyes. A small smile graces Muzan's face at your happy demeanor. Even if it is only for a second, Muzan is happy.
"Oh, I almost forgot." You gasp, "The doctor has new medicine for you, he wanted to give it to you himself."
Muzan let out a childlike groan, rolling over to face the balcony. It was beautiful outside, but Muzan couldn't help but feel annoyed. The sun was too bright, the wide was too strong, the birds were too loud. Even the thought of having to interact with his doctor for a second caused his blood to boil.
You roll your eyes at him, "Father, you have to take your medicine, the doctor knows better than me." He does move to face you, but you could tell he was annoyed.
"The doctors are incompetent." He moves back on his back; his brows cross in frustration. "They have been treating me for years, but here I remain, trapped in by bed." He laments.
You frown at his words, looking away from your father with sorrow. You remember a time when he was still healthy enough to spend time with you, your favorite days being when he would grow flowers with you, teaching you about their meanings and medical uses. But now, just standing was enough to strip him of all his strength.
You've been forced to watch as your father grows more resentful for the people around him, hating his doctors, maids, even gardeners for simply existing, being able to live the life he most desperately wanted. On days where his illness is at his worse, he mumbles about wanting to destroy them all, something you assumed was delirium caused by the medicine.
Even though your father has changed, you still love him, and you can't help but see him as the carefree, happy man he was when you were younger, even now. It's why you so desperately want him to get better, so that maybe you could go back to the way things once were.
"Father, I promise they just want to help." You try and talk some sense into him, though his resolve doesn't budge. You sigh, "it would make me really happy if you let the doctors give you the medicine." You put emphasis on the word really, in hopes it would motivate him. To your luck it did, Muzan moving to face you, sighing at your pleading face.
"Fine." Was all he said, feeling warmth bubble up in him as you smiled. You leaned down and hugged him the best you could.
"Thank you, father." Muzan smiles, happy once more.
---
You haven't visited you father in days, him forbidding you from entering his room a few days after he took the new medicine. You didn't mind though, it probably had some bad side effects, so you left him alone. Though, you couldn't help but question whenever he ordered for a worker to enter his room, especially when you swore, they never left.
Today was the final straw, you had to see your father. Workers had been disappearing left and right, and you knew your father was not going to be happy about it if you kept it from him.
As you get closer and closer to your father's room, a stench more disgusting than anything you've smelt before entered your nose and caused you to gag. You would've thrown up than and their if you didn't cover your mouth quickly.
The smell only got worse as you slowly crept towards the door, it nearly becoming unbearable. You swallowed down you fear as you knocked at the door. You could hear the faint sounds of crunching, like someone was chewing on something tough which made heartbeat against your ribs.
"F-father, are you in there." The chewing stopped and your heart sank. Your hands shook as you heard someone move towards the door. Slowly, the door opened, revealing your father covered in blood. He smiled down at you creepily, a stark contrast between the horror that covered your face.
Muzan moves to cup your cheek in his hand, blood smearing on your face. He could hear your fearful breathing coming from your nose as you inhale and exhale in rapid succession. He rubs your cheek, trying to calm you down as you look into his room, seeing the mangled-up bodies behind him. Your breathing became even more erratic at the sight, Muzan simply sighing with a frown.
"(Y/N), you don't understand-"
"You killed them, father." You whisper, backing away from him.
"I am much stronger now; I can protect you." You shake your head, tears streaming down your face. What was he talking about?
"You killed them." Your repeat you back hitting the wall. Muzan was directly in front of you, looking down intimidatingly. For the first time in your life, your father scared you.
"I had to, my child." He answers, his voice calm, but you could sense his annoyance. "It's the only way I can remain strong."
You don't say anything as he moves closer, hugging you into his chest as your world went dark.
---
It's been years since that day.
Your now older, more aware of the situation you're in. You father was now a demon, forced to consume humans in order to live. You realized quickly it was from the medicine the doctor gave him, and you curse him everyday for doing so.
He took your home from you, forcing you and your father out of your village. He took your life from you, forcing you to remain hidden with you father. Most importantly, he took your father from you, him now a husk of the man he once was.
Along with the myriad of strange side effects, your father couldn't go out in the day, the sun causing him immense pain, one of the only few things that could hurt him.
You learned to treasure the mornings, them being the few hours away from your father. While he was busy learning all he could about his aliment, you were trying to maintain the image of a normal human being. Working, socializing, anything you could do to forget about the atrocities your father committed when the sun set.
You wish things would go back to the way they were before.
"-N)? (Y/N)?" Oh, you were in the hospital, getting blood work done. You look over at the doctor in front of you, him attempting to get you attention.
You've been feeling terrible for the past few days, constant headaches, hot flashes, soreness. You could barely move without pain. You got blood work done, now waiting for the results with anticipation.
"I just wanted to ask you a question before giving you the news." His voice is solemn, not giving you a good feeling. "Does your family have any history of illness?"
You want to answer yes, but that would we wrong. You're not Muzan's child, so you shouldn't have inherited his illness. "No, my father was plagued with illness years ago, but he's...better now and I'm not his child biologically."
The doctor nodded, looking away dejectedly. When his eyes finally met yours, they were serious, "You've developed a rare blood disease." You heart sinks, but the doctor continues, "I suspect about a month or so is what you have left."
You could feel tears in your eyes, but surprisingly you didn't feel all that sad. Ever since you were young, you've accepted the fact that you would die, it's something you've learned from your times on the streets. The doctor continues talking, but you don't hear a word, to busy wondering how you're going to tell Muzan.
---
"Father, I'm home." No response, but you know he heard you.
On your way home, you accepted that you weren't going to tell Muzan. You knew if you would, he would try to turn you, and you couldn't accept that fate. To you, even death was a better fate than becoming a demon.
You slowly make you way up to your father's study, knocking on the door before entering. Like most days, your father is hunched over his desk, books and papers strewn about.
He doesn't acknowledge you when you enter, even when you move to stand beside him. You take a look at the scientific papers, not understanding a single thing about any of them. The only recognizable thing was the blue spider lily that for some reason was crucial to father.
"How was your appointment?" He doesn't look at you, flipping through pages of a book.
You sigh, shaking your head, "It was fine. Apparently, I was overreacting." You let out an awkward laugh. Muzan nods, before moving his attention back to his book.
It's like he was consumed by this flower, it was the only thing he cared about. You missed you father, even though it's been years since he's felt like one. In a way, you feel like death would be more welcoming than the life you have now, one that is consumed by fear for the man your supposed to feel safe around.
You left without telling you father, silently hoping you wouldn't see him in the morning.
---
Your hopes were not answered.
It's been week, but death does not come, all that greeted you was endless pain.
Your father found out when you collapsed one morning, and while he was mad you lied to him, he was livid when you refused to be turned into a demon. He's never yelled at you before, it surprised you when he screamed and threatened you, but you didn't change your mind.
In the end, your father was forced to watch you slowly succumb to your illness. You attempted to brighten his mood by framing the situation as repaying you. You took care of him, now he is doing the same. The only difference being you won't make it out in the end.
"Father, do you remember when I was little," You murmur to him; you voice raw and quiet. Your room was dark, blocking out any light so you could barely see your father looking at you. "You used to grow flowers with me." Your giggle sounds almost painful, but the smile on your face was one Muzan had nearly forgotten. "I'd get so sad when mine would die."
He doesn't speak, he can't, "Then you'd tell me not to cry, because death is normal for all living beings." Your voice is getting quieter as you speak, but he doesn't acknowledge it. "You were trying to comfort me about your death, I didn't know that at the time."
Muzan wants you to stop talking, he hates the pain in your voice. "I wish we could go back to the way things were before." You said, before finally going quiet. Muzan hears your breathing stop before letting out a sob.
---
It's been over a thousand years since your death and ever since then, Muzan has been filled with anger.
Anger for this imperfect world that took you away from. Anger at you for refusing the life he could've given you. Anger at himself for making your last few moments miserable.
He doesn't know who to blame for his misfortune, but he knows that if he lets anger consume him, he'll find someone to blame.
Muzan chooses to remember you when you were younger and at your happiest. When he's alone, his mind often wanders to these moments, when you were just a child, so small he was afraid anything would hurt you. He never let you out of his sight, wanting to protect you from the world.
Though in the end, he still lost you.
Since the day you died, Muzan was filled with rage. And he will continue to be until the day he sees you again.
He just wishes things would go back to the way they were before.
---
A/n: I don't even know if this counts as Yandere but whatever.
2K notes · View notes
tia-222 · 5 months
Note
Success Storyy
This is gonna be long one I hope you don't mind I will be leaving from here so maybe my journey could be a little motivation 😅
First of all Tia I really love you and @gorgeouslypink 😭, I've been on the this journey for a very long time since I was like 16,I'm currently 19.
My Journey
After my father's death in 2018,we hit poverty real bad,and I wanted to be there for my mother but all she cared about was her restaurant and my brothers. My father before dying had already named the will under my name when because he wanted my brothers to earn something on their own. But I was allowed to use to use the money when I turn 18. I wanted to get out of the small apartment as soon as possible I found Law of attraction and as we know it was useless for 2 years I wasted my time in law of attraction then on 2020 I found Law of Assumption the best thing honestly.
My LOAssumption journey start during the pandemic,when everything shut down and my mom's restaurant closed. My living condition wasn't the best even before the restaurant was opened,we would earn $90 - $100 dollars a week sometimes even less but it wasn't enough for us because my mother have to give half of it to 3 of the workers,pay our electric and water bill,our rented apartment and my elder and younger brother's college and school fee.
I was the only one studying in a community high school from 3 the of us,both my brothers were in were in private college and school,I didn't had the best relationship with my mother she have always prioritised my siblings because they were boys and never really cared about me both my brothers had their own rooms while I was asked to sleep in the living room's couch.
At that point life was bearable for me,I had even manifested a part time job and was thinking to move out. But it wasn't all easy for me when the lock down was announced I saw how my mother would worry about everything even if she didn't like me I still was the only one who worried about her condition but my brothers were brat and didn't really help for 20 year old my elder brother was too immature and i didn't liked him at all.
And as everyone was there at home 24/7 I start finding it hard to manifest because my circumstances were very unbearable and I couldn't stay in a state. Then is stumble upon Void state and all I knew is i overcomplicated it, I wasn't able to persist in one method,I would constantly change method it continued till this year and then I went back again to LOA for my rescue and then again it was hard for me to manifest big desires and then here I was back again to Void.
How and when did I enter
Since the last week of October I was again persistent to enter void I read every single post properly and was motivated to enter void from there I made a routine but guess what I failed again because of my lazy ass.
About 2 weeks agoi saw a success story by a blogger I forgot her user name but it was Vixen she basically entered through lucid dream and i realized that through out my void journey I never gave importance to lucid dreaming,so why not try become lucid.
My biggest problem was I couldn't choose what affirmations I should use and I was never confident about waking up in void like not at all.
So I just choose one askfirmation to affirm it all the time"Why do I lucid dream every night?".
Along with that I choose random subliminals.
https://youtu.be/Hg3pLT6-JWw?si=aRrLF-JkljuKrs3e
https://youtu.be/nHDLd94SKUI?si=3gN1-zsdW_ki0isV
And I also did psych-k 10 mins not specific time I would do it everytime I'm free.
And I did it only for 9 days. And on 17th of November I officially entered void and affirmed that I always enter void whenever I want.
On 18th of November I made a list of my desires and enter void again official manifested my dream life and I revised my father's death along with that I manifested a new biological mother and also new siblings.
(Don't come at me for changing my mother and siblings I have my own reasons)
I even shifting to my DR I was a in 1940's it was really amazing.
Honestly if I say I'm pretty much of a procrastinator and even doing this easy routine was kind of difficult for me but if you are a person who is consistent then you definitely will lucid dream within a week.
I will be leaving Tumblr forever btw. So farewell to my fellow shifters and manifesters. May you all succeed in manifesting your dream life as well and never give up easily Bye bye✨
Once again I luv you Tia and pink.
MY BEAUTIFUL ANON, OMG CONGRATULATIONS ♡
I am literally so happy for you, my love and your success story is so heartwarming. You've been through so much and wow your persistence really pushed through. Thank you so much for sharing your success story and how you got in. Enjoy your dream life to the fullest, angel, and enjoy your adventures to your drs. I love you so much more <33
@gorgeouslypink ‧₊⋅♡🪐
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Text
illicit affairs
Summary: Stranded in an airport hotel because of hurricane warning, you snatch the last hotel room for the following two nights, not knowing that these two nights would change your life forever. You meet Joel and spend every moment you can with him until he leaves you in the middle of the night the day you both had to go back home. Months later, heartbroken and pregnant from a man you hadn’t even exchanged last names with, you go back to your hometown to meet your mother’s new boyfriend, not knowing it’s Joel.
Pairing: Joel Miller x fem. reader // Joel Miller x fem. readers mother
Wordcount: 6.7k
Rating: E
Warnings: no outbreak AU, meet cute, age gap (around twenty years, but it’s not specified) flirting, kissing, smut (oral f receiving, protected sex, unprotected sex, so much sex) accidental pregnancy, angst, vomiting, fluff, heartbreak
A/N: I hope you all enjoy this fic that turned into a little beast
illicit affairs master list // Pedro Masterlist
follow @toomanystoriessolittletime-fics and turn on notifications to get notified when I post new fics
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You weren’t particularly looking forward to the next three days. 
Not that you didn’t love your mother. You were happy for her. After your father died almost eight years ago she deserved to be happy again. To be loved by someone. 
You just had a weird feeling about this trip, and you couldn’t say exactly why.
You had moved back to Austin for a couple of months after your father died. You had been between jobs and while you did not particularly enjoy the summer heat of Texas, or living in your childhood room, you were glad you had been there for your mother. 
You only took the job that had been offered you in Seattle because she told you that it was time. That she was okay. That it was time to live your life. You only left because you knew your brother Sean was moving back to Austin to start his new job in the weeks after you left. 
„Have you met her new man yet?“ You asked Sean as you sat in the passenger seat of his car. 
Thankfully he had offered his guest bedroom for your three day stay. Not that you wouldn’t like staying with your mom, but you were pretty sure you could not hide the fact that you had gotten pregnant from a stranger four months ago from her, when you would be staying with her 24/7. 
Your brother was a bit more… oblivious. 
You weren’t showing yet, and even though you knew you had to tell your family at some point, you weren’t ready to do it right now. 
You wondered when you were ready to tell them, but that was a problem for next week you, who could lock herself into her apartment back home in Seattle. 
Of course you knew this wouldn’t just go away, but additionally to the fact that you had gotten pregnant, you had no way of contacting the father, leaving you as a single mom. 
You only knew his first name. You didn’t get a chance to learn more about him. 
You closed your eyes, letting your head fall against the window of Sean’s car. 
„I haven’t met him. I only know he has a Construction company with his brother. That’s how mom and him met,“ he said. You nodded. 
„She seems happy. I hope he’s nice,“ you sighed.
„What about you? Someone in your life I need to have a big brother talk with?“ He asked and you scoffed. 
„I found out that all men are assholes,“ you rolled your eyes and Sean laughed. 
„Could have told you that before,“ he grinned and you punched his arm and he winced with a dramatic ouch. 
„Anyway. No men. Might get a cat,“ and a baby you added in your head. 
„I’m allergic to cats,“ he reminded you. 
„Remind me how that is my problem?“
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It was a nice neighbourhood Sean drove his car through, looking for the address your mother gave you. It was a typical suburban neighbourhood. 
Kids playing on the front lawn. 
A men washing his car. 
Women who took care of the little garden that wasn’t burnt by the sun yet. 
Fuck, you forgot how hot Texas was during the summer. 
„Here we are,“ Sean hummed and you followed his gaze as he parked the car in the driveway of a two story home behind a black pick up truck. Your mothers Honda was standing parked next to it. 
You gave yourself a moment to gather your thoughts while you looked at the house. 
It was a nice house. You could see that someone was keeping it maintained and loved. There was a big tree with a swing outside and you wondered if the man had kids too. Before you could look closer at the house the front door opened and your mother stepped out, a big smile on her face. 
„Here goes nothing,“ Sean said and you shook your head with a small smile before you opened the door. 
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Arms were wrapped around you almost the moment you stepped out of the car, your mother pulling you in a tight hug. 
„My baby,“ she whispered against your ear and you smiled, wrapping your arms around her.
„Hi mom,“ you said, suddenly overwhelmed by your emotions as you fought down the tears. She kissed your cheek before she looked at you with a warm smile. 
„I missed you,“ she said.
„Missed you too,“ you mumbled and she squeezed you softly.
„What about me?“ Sean interrupted and you rolled your eyes. 
„What about you?“ Your mother asked with a grin. 
„Didn’t you miss your son?“ He poured and you shook your head with a laugh.
„I saw you yesterday. I brought you and John leftover lasagna,“ your mother reminded him and he shrugged before he hugged her too. 
You took a moment to look around the neighbourhood when you heard the door behind you open again. 
„Come on. Joel has been grilling steaks in the backyard. They’re to die for,“ your mother said and you allowed yourself a moment to close your eyes as you heard the name. 
The last time you heard it, it was you who said it, moaned it. He had you pressed against the mattress, thrusting deeply into you, whispering filth into your ear…
You shook your head. Not the time. 
„Kids, I want you to meet Joel Miller,“ your mother took your hand and you turned around with a welcoming smile that froze as your eyes landed on the man in front of you. Dark familiar brown eyes finding yours. His eyes widened for a second before he looked away from you, holding his hand out for your brother to shake. 
You blinked your eyes a couple times, trying to make him disappear. It couldn’t be him. There was no way that this was….
Your mothers arm sneaked around his waist, his arm around her shoulders. You saw him take a deep breath before he turned his body towards you, holding his hand out for you to shake. 
„And this is my daughter,“ your mother introduced you with your name and you were hoping that whatever you were feeling right now was not showing on your face. 
As if on autopilot you pulled your hand up to meet his, your whole body reacting to his touch as his hand squeezed yours, fighting down the thoughts of how this hand touched you the last time you were close to each other. 
„Nice to meet you,“ he said and you gulped, meeting his eyes. 
„Nice to meet you too, Joel.“
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Five-ish months earlier
It was pure luck that you got a hotel room for the night. Your flight back home to Seattle had been canceled due to a hurricane warning and you had rushed to the first airport hotel in Phoenix, the airport you had been stranded on on your way back from New York. 
Of course you had no idea some kind of construction job fair networking event thing was held at exactly this hotel for the whole weekend. Though it did explain the price of the room.
You ignored the absurd price tag to the last room you were able to get, making your way with the keycard in hand towards the elevator that would bring you to the 11th floor where you room was. 
Waiting in front of the elevator you let your eyes wander through the impressive foyer before the doors of the elevator in front of you opened. You gripped your suitcase before you looked up again, meeting the eyes of the man who was stepping out of the elevator. 
He gave you a small smile, holding the elevator for you, as he stepped out. 
You swallowed slowly, giving him a thankful smile, walking past him into the elevator. Your eyes slipped close as you smelled his aftershave, your back turned towards him before you turned around, facing him. He was still standing in front of you. He was taller than you, dressed completely in black, dark jeans with a black dress shirt tucked into his pants. The first buttons of his shirt were opened, the sleeves rolled back over his tanned muscular forearms, the ends of a black tattoo just so visible on his arm, making you wonder what exactly it was. 
He was by all means one of the most attractive men you had ever seen in your life.
And at least twenty years older than you. 
There was an amused smile on his lips as as your eyes finally landed on his, having of course noticed you checking him out. 
You felt your cheeks warming as his dark eyes looked at you. 
„Thank you,“ you blurted out and he raised his eyebrows. 
„For holding the elevator,“ you clarified, feeling stupid. So fucking stupid. 
You took a deep breath, which was a dumb idea because he and his aftershave had been in this elevator before and it was mouthwatering. Raising your hand you pushed the button for the eleventh floor. 
„You’re welcome,“ he said and fuck, even his voice was sexy. 
He was about to say more when someone clapped on his shoulder. 
"Come on Joel. Let’s get some drinks,“ a man said to, dressed similar. 
The last thing you saw from the man you know knew was named Joel were his eyes on you, winking, as the elevator closed. 
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While your initial plain consisted of ordering room service and watching the Bachelor until you fell asleep, one phone call with your best friend after making it to the hotel room left you getting your little black dress out (well not so little, but it was one of the nicer dresses you owned) and putting some light make up on. 
You couldn’t exactly explain what it was that you were doing, but deep down you knew you would regret not going down to the bar and maybe finding that man, Joel, again. Even if you would only look at him from afar like a creepy stalker. 
You never made the first step and your best friend made the very logical point that if you embarrassed yourself for some reason, you would never see the man again. 
Nervously talking a last look into the mirror you walked out of the bathroom, switching the lights off. 
Sitting down on your bed you took a deep breath. 
What were you doing?
You did not know this man. You haven’t even really talked to him. He was older than you. And probably married. Or a serial killer. Not that you had a chance with someone who looked like that. You would probably humiliate yourself, chasing after some guy who was just trying to be nice to a stranger. 
„Why am I like this?“ You whined, letting yourself fall back against the bed. 
Closing your eyes you tried to relax.
You could do this. You never went for what you wanted. And you wanted him. 
„One drink,“ you said to yourself before you got up from the bed, got your heels on and walked out of your room. 
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You had just gotten your first drink when you felt someone sit down next to you. A shy smile sneaked onto your face, because before you had even looked at the man sitting next to you, you had smelled his aftershave. 
He was already looking at you when you finally turned towards him. 
„Mind if I sit here?“ He asked and your smile widened. 
„Not at all,“ you said.
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„Joel,“ you gasped, your head falling back against the door of your room he had pressed you against. 
Not even in your wildest dreams did you imagine this outcome when you decided to get down to the bar. You didn’t even think he was really interested. But the more you talked, the closer you got. His warmth against your side as your feet ran up his thigh when he told you about his work. About his life. 
About how he hasn’t stopped thinking about what you might look like when you came. 
„So fucking pretty,“ he hummed before his lips crashed down on yours. One of his hands pinning your arms over your head against the door while his other hand pushed your skirt slowly up, his fingers running up your thigh. 
„Fuck,“ you moaned, your legs already shaking and he hadn’t even touched you really yet. 
His lips wandered down your throat and you could feel him smile against your skin, his teeth carefully nibbling at your skin as his hand slipped between your legs, finding your drenched. 
„You gonna let me eat this pussy?“ He hummed and you groaned. 
„Please,“ you gasped. He chuckled, his finger slowly pushing your panties aside. 
„Bet you taste delicious,“ he grinned before his head dipped between your breasts. He kissed the top of them, inhaling deeply. 
„Smell so fucking good,“ he hummed. He let go of his grip around your wrist but you kept them up. 
„Good girl,“ he hummed and kissed you. 
„Want you to get naked for me and lay down on your bed, can you do that for me?“ he asked. You licked your lips, nodding your head. 
You hooked your fingers into the straps of your dress, slowly pushing them down your shoulder, Joel’s dark eyes following your every move. His finger still slowly swiping through your pussy. 
Reaching around you unhooked your bra, your eyes on him, slipping it down your arms, letting it fall to the ground. 
His jaw tensed, his eyes taking you in. 
He took a step back from you, his touch leaving you and you slipped your dress down your body, your panties too. 
Stepping out of them you walked slowly towards the bed, getting out of your heels but he stopped you. 
„Keep them on,“ he grunted and you nodded with a small grin. 
Walking past him towards your bed your sat down, slipping back until you were sitting in the middle of the bed, completely naked, safe for your heels. 
„So fucking pretty,“ Joel said, shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe he was here right now. You let your eyes wander down his broad body, your mouth salivating when you noticed the prominent outline of his cock through his dark jeans. 
„Spread those legs for me,“ he said and you tilted your head up to look into his eyes. 
The way he looked at you made you feel incredibly sexy, confident, powerful. 
Slowly you angled your legs, letting them fall open for him. 
He sucked his bottom lip in, just look at your pussy that was so wet you were sure you were dripping onto the sheets beneath you. 
„God fucking damn,“ he groaned and slowly began to unbutton his shirt. 
Your greedy eyes took in every inch of skin he revealed to your eyes, dying to run your hands and tongue over his broad chest. He carefully slipped his shirt from his upper body, taking great care to hang it over the back of a chair. 
When he turned back towards you, seeing your amused expression he shrugged. 
„Need to wear that again tomorrow. Can’t have your pussy all over it,“ he explained nonchalantly.  
„On my face on the other hand….“ he winked before he slowly joined you on the bed, laying down on his chest right between your legs. 
His lips kissed up your inner thigh, his beard deliciously scratching over your skin the closer he got to where you were dripping for him. 
Your eyes followed his every move, his dark eyes fixed on you as you saw his lip part, leaning in. You felt his tongue dip into your slit, licking up, teasing your clit all while he moaned as if he just tasted heaven. 
„Fucking knew it,“ he groaned. His arms slipped around your upper thighs, pulling you against his mouth, before dove in. Driving you positively insane with his wicked tongue as he slowly but surely brought you to what you would later would find out, first orgasm of the night. 
Your fingers were wrapped around the soft strands of his hair as he held you down, licking into you until you came undone, crying out in pleasure as your orgasm left you gasping for air. 
He cleaned you with his tongue, carefully, as you tried to normalise your breathing and heart rate. When he was finished he just looked up at you, his cheek resting on your thigh, his chin glistening with you.
„Better than I imagined,“ he whispered, kissing your thigh.
„Huh?“ You asked confused. 
He grinned. 
„Your face when you cum,“ he winked and you flushed, warmth spreading over your whole body. 
Sitting yourself up you reached for him, pulling him up until he was laying on top of you, your hands in his hair as you pulled him towards you, kissing him deeply. You wrapped your legs around his back, wanting him closer. 
He moaned against your lips, his tongue dipping into your mouth. 
„I want you to fuck me,“ you whispered against his lips. 
„I intend to. As often as you let me,“ he hummed back, kissing you again. 
He grabbed a pillow when he parted from you, pushing it under your hips before he got up from the bed, getting out of his jeans and boxers. You couldn’t help but bite your lip when you saw his cock for the first time. 
Dying to have him inside of you but….
„Joel,“ you said softly and he looked at you. 
„It’s been some time…. Years and I…“ you suddenly felt shy, not knowing how to carry on. 
He grabbed something before he slowly sat down on the bed. He came to rest on his side, right next to you. 
„We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,“ he promised, his hand on your cheek. You turned to your side, looking at him.
„I want to. I just want you to know that it’s been a while and well… you’re fucking huge,“ you shrugged with a awkward laugh. He chuckled, his fingers on your chin tilting it up, so you had to look at him. 
„You may be surprised, but I don’t do this often either,“ he said and while your first reaction was to scoff and not believe him, his expression remained honest and open and you believed him. 
Slowly your brought one of your hands up to rest on his warm chest, right against his heart feeling it beat. 
„Okay,“ you whispered and leaned in to kiss him. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you against him as he kissed you. One of his legs came between yours, his thigh meeting your pussy, making you gasp. 
You just kissed for a while, touching, getting familiar with each other before he slowly turned you so you were back to laying on your back, him hovering over you. 
He parted form your lips, reaching for a condom and you realised that this must have been what he grabbed earlier. He gave you a sheepish smile as he ripped the package open, sitting himself up so he could slip the condom on. 
„Thought you might get lucky huh?“ You teased and he grinned. 
„Hoped,“ he clarified, lining himself up the tip of his cock slipping into you without any resistance. 
„For the record, I have an IUD,“ you said and his eyes darkened but he shrugged his shoulders. 
„Better safe than sorry,“ he winked before he slowly sank into you. 
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Sex with Joel was not like anything you ever experienced before. 
He watched your face for any expression, slowing down when he noticed discomfort. He took his time learning what you liked, his sole goal for when he was in your room being your pleasure. 
He told you that he was here for this construction congress thing, but whenever he did not have to work or shake hands he was with you. 
You didn’t talk about what you were doing. You were living in the moment, not thinking of what would happen once Monday came and you both had to leave this hotel and get back into your life’s.
He only had made one rule. 
Not to catch any feelings. 
Which you thought you could do.
But he was just so… fucking perfect. At least the version of him you got to spend time with.
It was not even the sex, which was positively mind-blowing, mind you. It was the moments after when he held you and told you about his hobbies. About his company. About his life. Always keeping it vague, never saying anything about where he was from. 
Much like you. 
On Saturday morning before he had to go to get to a meeting he had you in the shower, your body pressed against the shower wall as he fucked into your from behind, hard, leaving you to moan so loudly when you came that you were sure you would get a noise complaint. 
It was the only time he fucked you without a condom and came inside of you.
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You never had this much sex and it had never ever been this good before. 
Maybe it was because he was older, maybe it was because there was something more….
You hadn’t talked about an after. 
After the sex.
After falling asleep in each others arms. 
After the conference. 
You didn’t have a chance to talk about a potential after when you woke up Monday morning at 3:22 am, finding the bed next to you cold. 
At first you thought he was in the bathroom but after a couple of minutes and no sound coming from the room, you sat yourself up, turning the lamp on the bedside table on. 
You could still feel his cum that had dried on your stomach hours before, when you found a note from him on the bedside table that said
Thank you
Two months later you found out you were pregnant.
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Now
He has been ignoring you. 
Which was making you even angrier, because you did nothing wrong. 
You were sitting with your mother on the backyard patio enjoying some iced tea, watching your brother and Joel at the grill. 
You had learned all the important stuff about Joel from your mother in the last ten minutes.
He was forty five, six years younger than your mom, but still much older than you. He had a daughter whose name was Sarah. She was twenty seven, living in Dallas and working as a doctor, about to be married next spring. 
You were just nodding along, frankly overwhelmed with the situation. 
You had sex with your mothers boyfriend. 
Yes, you didn’t know it back then, and you had verified with your mother when they met each other, they only started dating after that weekend you had spend with him. 
But you had slept with him. 
You were pregnant from him. 
You were pregnant with your mothers boyfriends child. 
„Are you okay?“ You mother asked. You almost jumped, your ice tea spilling a little.
„Sorry. A little tired. Work is busy,“ you lied. 
„I’m so proud of you baby. My little girl is going places,“ she smiled and you smiled back. Thankfully your brother sat down next to her, involving her in a conversation. It gave you the chance to sneak away into the house to find the bathroom. 
You walked by a wall of pictures. Joel was in many of them and the man you had seen back in Phoenix was there too. 
You smiled when you saw a younger version of Joel next to a girl that looked so much like him. You saw her grow up through the pictures on the wall. You could see that Joel was a proud dad. Always next to her at the milestones of her life. 
For some reason it made you tear up, your hand coming to rest over your stomach, the bump barely there. 
Your child would never have this. 
They would never have a loving father who was there every single day, for every milestone in their life. 
You couldn’t do that to your mother. She was clearly in love with him. 
But maybe you were in love with him too. 
No man had made you feel like Joel did before. Yes you had some relationships, even one where you could see yourself getting married before it ended. 
But Joel….
The things he made you feel in that hotel room were like nothing you had ever felt before. And not just sexually. You felt safe with him. You felt comfortable with him, even when you were both quiet and just enjoying the moment. 
You thought it was just a stupid crush at first. Because of the way you met and how it ended. 
You couldn’t fall in love with someone you had only known for three days, right?
But against all odds you did, and you had made your peace with it. 
You could even understand him leaving you in the middle of the night. 
He had told you that he was single and not married. And you believed him. You were much younger than him, which would make this… thing between the two of you most likely not have a future anyway. And long distance was not something that was easy. 
You made every excuse in the books for him. 
But standing here in his house, looking at his life, all you felt was sadness. 
Sadness over what you wouldn’t have. 
Why did it have to be him?
„Your mother and your brother left to get ice cream for dessert,“ Joel’s voice made you jump. You hadn’t even heard him come in. Nodding you walked away from this wall of memories, to search for the bathroom your mother had shown your earlier. 
You felt sick. 
Joel called your name from behind but you shook your head, almost running, but not getting far when you felt his hand wrap around your wrist, making you stop. 
„Joel, please…“ you whispered, your eyes closed, taking deep breaths. 
„We have to talk. I…“
But you didn’t hear what he said next because the next hing you knew was you vomiting all over his shoes. 
And then… nothing.
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Your head was pounding when you came back to. You could hear voices as if they talked through cotton. 
Groaning you brought your hand up, rubbing it over your temple. 
Fuck. 
You vomited all over Joel and then you….
You passed out?
One hand came to rest over your stomach, your eyes blinking open in panic. 
Were you okay? Was your baby okay? What the fuck happened?
„Hey honey. Slow down. Joel said you passed out?“ You felt your mother take your hand. You were laying on the couch, wondering how you got there. 
A million thoughts went through your head, but on the forefront was your worry about your baby. The baby no one knew about.
You were close to hyperventilating when you felt a hand on your back, soothingly rubbing up and down your spine, guiding you to take deep breaths, his voice soothing you almost instantly. 
Your mother was still holding your hand, looking worriedly at you when you turned your head to look at Joel. He was so close you could smell him.
Tears sprang into your eyes as you looked away from him to your mom. 
„I need to see a doctor,“ you whispered and your mother softly squeezed your hand, Joel’s hand on your back stopping. 
„Are you in pain?“ She asked alarmed. You shook your head. 
„No. But…“ you gulped, looking quickly to Joel before you looked back at your mother. 
„I need to check if the baby is okay,“ you began to cry, your eyes closing, missing the reaction of the people kneeling next to you. 
„Baby?“ Your mother asked. You sucked your bottom lip in, nodding slowly before your eyes opened. 
You saw the tears in your mothers eyes, surprise clearly in her face before she leaned in and hugged you softly, kissing your cheek, your eyes meeting Joel’s whose eyes were fixed on you, his jaw clenched, his eyes narrowed as if he was trying to figure something out. 
He wasn’t stupid. 
You told him that first night that it had been years since you had been with someone before him. You had no reason to lie to him, not that he knew that. 
His eyes widened when you kept looking at him, clearly having made the math. 
Your mother looked at you with a warm smile. 
„You have to tell me everything. But lets get you to see a doctor first.“
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Faith really must have a field day today with you. 
Joel drove you and your mother to the next hospital, your brother having to leave to pick up his boyfriend from work. He made you promise to call once you knew everything was okay. He would be waiting for you at his place. 
And now you were in the maternity wing, waiting for the doctor to come and make an ultrasound to check if everything was okay. 
With Joel waiting with you in the room, as far away from you as he could be without leaving. 
Your mother was trying to get in touch with your doctor back in Seattle, leaving Joel with you to wait. 
Joel hadn’t said a single word to you since you left his house. You felt his eyes on you but you were stubbornly looking everywhere but at him. 
This was not how you planned this. 
Then again, you had never planned this situation, had you?
You thought you would never see Joel again. You were starting to make your peace with that fact. Not only having gotten pregnant by a man whose last name you didn’t even know, no but falling in love with the same man. 
How could you have predicted that you would meet him again like that?
If you allowed yourself to dream about running into him again, it was definitely not while meeting him as your moms new boyfriend. 
The door opened and you looked up, your eyes meeting Joels for a second before you saw an older woman walk in, a warm smile on her face. 
„I read that you passed out today?“ She asked after she introduced herself. 
„Yeah,“ you nodded. 
She sat down on the chair next to the table you were laying on, looking through the file your mother had filled out for your while you had waited. 
„Anything in particular happened before you passed out?“ She asked and your eyes briefly met Joels before you looked at her. 
„Might be a combination of stress and the weather? I am not used to the heat anymore,“ you have her a shy smile. 
She nodded at you, setting the file down. 
„I can see that your blood pressure is a little high, but that’s not too bad yet. Let’s check on the baby, shall we?“ She asked and you nodded. 
Your pulled your shirt up and she warned you softly that this would be a little cold as she put the gel onto your stomach. You winced a little and she winked at you before she reached for the wand. 
„Is this dad?“ She asked you before she looked at Joel. 
You looked at him for the first time then. Really looked at him. His whole body was tensed, his arms crossed in front of his chest, his gaze on you, but it felt like he was looking through you. 
Though his eyes did find yours when he heard the question, probably wondering what you would say. 
And even if you would want to tell the truth, you had to talk to him first. 
So you shook your head before you looked at the doctor again. 
„Just a friend of my mom. She should be here any minute,“ you said and the doctor nodded. 
It took a little while before the heartbeat of your child filled the room. You looked at the monitor, smiling relieved as you saw the little blob, your baby, on the screen. 
„It looks like everything is just fine,“ the Doctor said and you shakily breathed out. She smiled softly at you, clicking some buttons on the machine and you just kept looking at your baby, oblivious to Joel having made his way over to you to take a closer look. 
„You’re at 17 weeks and the little bean looks as healthy as it can be. I want you to take it a little easier. Make sure to take some breaks and if you’re not used to the heat, maybe stay indoors. Where is home?“ She asked
„Seattle,“ you said and she sighed. 
„Too much rain for me. But I can understand why this all was a little much for you here. To be on the safe side, see your Doctor once you get back for a check up,“ she said. You nodded. Her head tilted up and you followed her gaze, surprised to find Joel standing next to you, his eyes fixed on the screen with an unreadable expression. 
„Do you want me to print out a copy for your mom?“ The doctor asked. You nodded, your eyes still fixed on Joel. 
„Can I get three copies maybe? My mom, me and…“ you gulped, „for the father?“ You looked away from Joel as his head turned to look at you. 
The doctor smiled at you. 
„Of course.“
And while she worked, the heartbeat of your baby still filling the empty room you allowed yourself to look at Joel who had tears in his eyes as he looked at you.
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Your mother hadn’t stopped asking questions on the whole way back from the hospital. 
„Why didn’t you tell me?“
„I would have eventually.“
„Do you have a boyfriend?“
„No.“
„Who is the father?“
„He’s not in the picture.“
„Why?“
„Because.“
You could feel Joel’s eyes on you the whole way back to your brother, your head stubbornly turned towards the window, watching the Austin Landscape fly by. 
„Are you happy?“ Your mother asked as the truck parked in front of your brothers house. 
It was a good question. Were you happy?
The situation was a mess. It was… straight out of a soap opera but much more complicated. 
But apart from that? You becoming a mom?
„Yeah. I am happy,“ you answered. 
„Then I am happy for you. Gosh, I’m gonna be a Grandma!“ She smiled and you chuckled. 
„Yeah. You are.“
„Are you gonna move back here?“ She asked. You shook your head. 
„I don’t think so. I like Seattle. I have all my friends there and my job,“ you looked at her. She had turned in her seat so she could look at you. 
„I understand. And I don’t want to talk you into something, I know you have a great support system in Seattle. But… you have one here too. Sean would never say it, but he misses you deeply. And you know I would love to see you more,“ she reached over to squeeze your arms softly. 
„Mom…“ you sighed.
„I know. I just wanted to say it,“ you looked away from her, looking at Joel for a moment who hadn’t said anything since leaving the hospital. 
„I’ll get out of your hair. Sorry for all this mess today,“ you said.
„It’s perfectly fine. I’ll walk you to the door,“ your mother said, already getting out of the car, throwing the door closed behind her. You took a deep breath, still looking at Joel as you reached for the third copy of the sonogram, having written your phone number on the back of it. 
Without saying a word, you put it face down on the armrest at the front seat before you got out of the car and walked to your brothers house. 
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You did not really expect Joel to call you, but you were still left disappointed. 
Not that you could not understand him. 
He was probably as overwhelmed with the whole situation as you were. But you wanted to talk to him. You had to talk to him. You had a long talk with your brother when you got to his place. You had told him about meeting this man while you were stranded at the airport and how you spend three days with him in your bed. You told him that the rule was to just live in the moment and enjoy the time you had together, but that it left you heartbroken when he just disappeared in the middle of the night, nowhere to be found. 
You also told him that somehow even though you had an IUD and he used condoms every single time but that one time in the shower, that the man had still managed to get you pregnant. 
Sean held you while you talked. His boyfriend John sitting across from you. 
„Sounds to me like you fell for him,“ John said and you groaned. 
„I know. So fucking stupid. How can you fall in love with a man you know nothing about?“ You whined.
„Well you may not know much about him. But you clearly clicked on some way. If he had been looking for a quick fuck, he would have left after the first time you had sex. But he came back to you. Probably until he had to leave himself. And you said he was older. Maybe he didn’t see a future,“ John said. 
„Or maybe he was married,“ your brother grunted and you punched him lightly in the stomach.
„What? You don’t know for certain if he was,“ he argued.
You sat there in silence for a couple of minutes. 
„You have no way of contacting the guy?“ Sean asked softly. 
You could lie. But you wanted to tell someone, and you knew your brother would keep your secret if you asked him. 
So you told him. 
„I do now,“ you whispered.
„What do you mean?“ He asked. 
„You gonna hate me,“ you closed your eyes, hiding against his chest. 
„I can’t hate you. You’re my favourite little sister,“ he teased and you laughed quietly. 
„I am your only sister,“ you reminded him and he shrugged. 
You sucked your bottom lip in, nibbling on it. 
„It was Joel,“ you whispered, feeling your brother tense next to you. 
„I met him almost five months ago in Phoenix. It was before he even met mom,“ you sobbed quietly. His arms tightened around you and you felt him release a long breath. 
„Well fuck. That’s….“ He began.
„A fucking mess?“ you helped.
„You could say that.“
A moment of quiet passed before John said. 
„Did he say anything?“ John asked and you turned your head, resting your cheek on your brothers chest as you opened your eyes to look at his boyfriend.
„Didn’t really get the chance to talk. First I vomited all over him and then mom was always there. I…. Did sneak him my number. So… I hope he calls,“ you said.
„I can talk to him,“ your brother offered but you shook your head. 
„If he doesn’t contact me, his message will be clear. And I have to move on somehow…“
„Do you think you can? Even if you stay in Seattle. Imagine him and mom stay together or get married. He’ll be around all the time. You would see him every time you come and visit.“
„I don’t know,“ you whispered. 
Sean sighed. 
„We gonna figure this out. But not today. It’s been a long day for you. Let’s get you to bed.“
Your mother came over for breakfast the next day, insisting to spend more time with you before you would leave. 
She made excuses for Joel who had to go to work on a construction site. You didn’t really care. 
You hadn’t slept the whole night, you just wanted to go home. 
To erase the last twenty four hours and live in blissful denial. 
It was afternoon when she left, promising to come and see you the next morning before your brother dropped you off at the airport. 
And she did. With a gift basket for mothers to be, bringing tears to your eyes. 
She made you promise to call more, hugging you goodbye when Sean said it was time to get you to the airport. 
You left Austin on a 11am flight. 
And Joel did not call.
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