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#so he deserves to either be able to see all of his dads that worked together to make him
alastyr-not-alastair · 3 months
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Rainbow Steve deserves to have 5-7 dads
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reiderwriter · 1 month
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Okay, I just wanted to start off and say I love your stories. They're always so good. You've reblogged one of my stories a while, and I actually squealed and scared the crap out of my friend. But yeah, I live you and your stories 💖💖💖
So I read your one story of Spencer being a soon-to-be dad, and I really like the idea of seeing Spencer and reader as actual parents just feeling the emotions. I thought something based around their daughter (because Spencer's a girl dad) hitting a milestone like walking, talking, or something even bigger like the first day of school. I don't know if that makes sense, but either way, I hope you like it!
A/N: I love the idea of new-dad Spencer. He deserves a loving family and a baby so much 😭 I combined this request with one of the prompts for @imagining-in-the-margins Kid Fic challenge which you can find the details for here! ❤️
Warnings: none, just fluff.
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You never thought leaving to go for a spa day would be one of the hardest things you'd have to do in your life, but here you were. 
In the ten months since you'd given birth to your daughter, you'd been stressed, lacking in sleep, leaking fluids from places that you forgot could have fluids leak from, and you'd been totally, irreversibly, head over heels in love. 
Both with the tiny little gremlin you'd given birth to, and with the man that you watched become a father. 
Spencer Reid was a great dad. 
He'd had a fair amount of anxiety leading up to the birth, worrying about every detail, talking to geneticists, driving you to and from each check up or attending via video call if he was on a case. After she was born, he helped out as best he could. 
For a man who had delivered a baby before and was absolutely great with his teammates' kids, he couldn't hold her for the first week without an intense look of panic crossing his features.
“Y/N, what happens if I drop her?” 
“Y/N, she sneezed. What if I got her sick?”
“Y/N, she fell asleep, I can't move.” 
A genius with an IQ of 187 slashed to 60 in front of a pretty girl. His tiny daughter had him thrown through a loop he got seriously stuck in. 
He was still helpful, and he got used to all his new duties and tasks within a week, but watching those cute clueless expressions pass over his face now and then endeared you to him that much more. 
He knew everything, but he had to learn this right there with you. 
So yes, leaving for a relaxing spa visit was hard. 
Spencer had been on a case for the last four days, his first since your daughter had arrived and the official end to his paternity leave. You'd been happy to see him get back to it, in all honesty. Spencer’s job, his research, and his work at the FBI were like muscles he needed to stretch. It wasn't that he couldn't live without them, but there would always be a part of him that felt stiff or unsure of himself without the possibilities of a case to unravel or some theorizing to do. 
You were slightly panicked at the thought of being alone with your daughter for four days, but you managed. With a phone call home every single night where he asked you about every single thing your little bundle of joy had done outside of his watchful gaze. 
Now, it was your turn. 
Spencer had insisted on it upon returning from his case. He got four nights of relative peace after 20 months of waking up with the baby, sleeping with the baby, napping when the baby napped, carrying the baby around when it became evident that she was desperately scared of not being the center of attention. 
He came back with a spring in his step, and the deep desire to see you get a solid night's rest the way he'd been able to. 
You'd tried shooting him down, multiple times, to no reward. 
“Spencer, you didn't exactly just up and go off gallivanting. You were working.”
“I was working, and I still got more rest than you. I really needed that sleep and time away, Y/N, and I think you do, too. Now, please, go away,” he'd pulled you into his arms when you'd put the baby down that night to reveal his brilliant plans. 
“Just for the night. Go away for a lovely overnight break. Not indefinitely. I love you.” His panicked confession at the end sent you into giggles, that with a few well times kisses had you reluctantly agreeing to the girls trip he'd planned you. 
The BAU girls had been roped into accompanying you on the trip, which honestly meant that he'd be getting status updates any time he asked for one. 
JJ, Penelope, Emily, and Tara were all going to strong arm you into the car if need be to carry you off to the nearest 5(ish) star Hotel and Spa. 
And that's exactly what happened. 
The man had even packed the bag for you to send you off, had made you breakfast in bed and had run to every sound your daughter had made from dusk until dawn so you didn't have to lift a finger. 
“Y/N, you're resting today.”
“But-” 
“No. No buts. Just rest.”
“At least let me hold her for a second to say goodbye.” He blinked at you for a few seconds before his stubbornly helpful face turned softer, and he quickly handed your daughter back for a small cuddle. 
With a lingering hug, you told your daughter - who absolutely did not care one bit that you would be wandering out of the house soon enough - that you'd be back in the morning, kissed your husband on the lips, and were swiftly kidnapped by JJ and Emily. 
To your credit, you lasted two whole hours before breaking down. 
The drive to the hotel was quick and peaceful, and it felt nice to breathe in the fresh air without having to also check for various baby smells. 
You checked in fast, and all gathered in the in-hotel restaurant for brunch and mimosas, and then it hit you. Another mother walked in with a stroller, and you were blubbering. 
Your bottom lip wobbled, and the rest of the world ceased to exist as you gave in to the emotions. 
You knew, of course, that you were going to have to leave your daughter at some point. It wasn't healthy for either of you to have attachment issues, and you didn't want to hinder your daughters development by sticking too close - but that didn't mean you didn't miss her. 
JJ noticed your watery eyes first. “Oh no, I know that look,” she smiled over her drink, taking a sip. 
“What? What look?” You said, but giving yourself massively away with a good sniff and watery blink. 
“You lasted longer than I did. I couldn't go half an hour without turning my car around and heading back to Henry, and I swear it was only worse with Michael.” 
You giggled a bit as you wiped your eyes. 
“Do you think… do you think we could go back? Just for a little bit. I just want to check on them.”
The women passed a look between them and then nodded back at you, obviously having expected this. 
“Actually, we didn't book any spa treatments until the afternoon. We had a feeling something like this would happen,” Tara smiled at you, and you snorted in surprise as you dabbed away your tears with a handkerchief. 
“We are laying some ground rules though,” Emily said, a stern tone fighting the playful smile on her face. 
“We can peak through a window, but we're not going in. And we're not going to call ahead and let Spencer know. The kid needs to know you feel confident in his parenting skills, and if he's just got the baby settled and you come back in, it won't be easy to calm her down again.”
“You drive a hard bargain,” you said, but you were already halfway to the car by the time you could finish the sentence. 
The girls pulled up a block away and let you walk calmly back to your front door. 
You'd since agreed to a time limit and not to unlock the door. Emily went ahead to scope out the house, communicating with JJ on the phone who was holding your hand to stop you from wringing them. 
You'd never been a part of the BAU, but somehow you felt like a team member on a case getting ready to stake out a target. 
When Emily gave you the signal, the rest of the girls gave you space, and you ducked down to peer into your ground floor window. 
Spencer was on his stomach with your daughter, and they were having what seemed like a riveting conversation. 
“And so then I obviously got tongue-tied. Like I said, Daddy isn't good at talking to people, let alone beautiful women like Mommy.” 
“Be be be da.”
“Exactly. I really embarrassed myself, actually. I went up to her and said ‘do you have a number?’ and she was so confused.”
“Ba!” 
“Yeah, she sounded like that, too. I kept talking more and more, and she couldn't understand what I meant. She thought I was asking about her age at one point. I was just getting redder and redder, and then she grabbed my hand and led me to a seat at the back of the bookshop because she thought I was sick.”
He smiled down at the infant again, still babbling to herself.
“I was sick, of course, but it was just love sickness. I still am.” 
The tears that you'd delicately wiped away earlier came back hot and heavy now as you resisted the urge to crawl through the window to your precious family. 
Spencer was telling your daughter the story of how he first asked you out, near disastrously, and from the sounds of it, he wasn't done telling stories. 
“I really love your Mommy, you know. She's wonderful.”
“Mmmm,”
“See, you think so too. Everyone thinks so.” 
“Mmmma” 
“Yes, your Mama. You’re just like her, everyone loves you, too.” 
“Mama.”
You heard Spencer's breath hitch as you closed a hand over your mouth to stop a shocked squeal from coming out. 
“T-That's right. Mama. One more time, say mama.”
“Mama,” the little baby squealed in delight, reacting to her fathers utter joy. 
“You're speaking. One more time, Mama.”
“Mama!” 
“Your mama is going to be so mad,” Spencer whispered, grabbing his daughter up in one more careful hug and kissing her face as she giggled delightfully. “We need to keep this a secret. Tomorrow, you'll have you say your first word in front of her, and we'll both act surprised, okay? Promise?”
The gargle he got in response was enough to have your shoulders shaking as the others extricated you from your own front lawn. 
Back in the car, you broke down into giggles and tears, shoulders rising and falling in sobs and laughter intermittently. 
“Is this a total psychotic break or just a symptom of seeing Spencer as a dad?” Penelope asked, nudging you with her elbow as you tried to regain your composure.
“It's… whew, it's okay. We can go back now.” 
“You sure?” JJ asked from the driver's seat, and you nodded once again.
“Yeah. I'm fine now. I'm really good.” 
The women all offered you similar smiles as you drove away, blissful and content. 
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roosterforme · 3 months
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Always Ever Only You Part 30 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Bradley's excitement over the first set of ultrasound photos is unparalleled. He has never been so happy and so overwhelmed in his life, but at times he feels ill equipped to process everything that's happening. And the last thing he wants is to make you feel like he's growing tired of you.
Warnings: Swearing, smut, pregnancy topics, doctors, angst, fluff
Length: 6600 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32
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Bradley wanted to be able to explain it to you, but he wasn't really sure he could. Sitting in the waiting room with you and anticipating an ultrasound to see the baby was honestly more than he ever thought he could have. You were more than he ever thought he deserved, and you wanted him anyway. But a baby? 
He barely had a baseline to build off of. His dad died when he was young enough that he only had a handful of fleeting memories. The sound of a laugh. Two big hands lifting him up when he fell. A lullaby sung softly as he drifted off to sleep. Besides the photos that you and he collected from his storage unit and the stories his mom recounted when he was younger, that's all he had.
But he could practically hear his mom telling him how excited Nick Bradshaw was to be a dad. Bradley could remember the joy in her voice whenever she told him about the way she would catch father and son goofing off together. She was adamant that Bradley cried almost nonstop the first day his dad was gone for a deployment. And now Bradley desperately wished he could remember these little details that made up their relationship. Because soon, god willing, he was going to be on the other side of things: the parent who loves goofing off and singing, but who also gets deployed and causes tears to fall.
It was all too overwhelming for him to put into words, but as he laced his fingers with yours, he knew he didn't have to figure out how to do everything all at once. 
"Are you nervous?" you asked.
Bradley looked at your open expression and immediately felt better. Talking through things and sharing his thoughts was the best way to keep from driving himself crazy while also letting you know how important you were. "Excited," he replied, kissing your cheek and ear. "Just really fucking excited. I've been thinking... about starting a notebook. Kind of for the baby? Like how sometimes I like to write down what I'm thinking and feeling for myself."
He still felt silly at times for sharing the notebooks with you, but you nodded with a little smile on your lips. "I love your deployment notebooks. I love what you wrote about me."
He reached for you and kissed you without hesitation. "I think I want the baby to be able to read about how much I was looking forward to meeting them. When they're older, I mean. They can read about how I feel like my heart is going to pound out of my chest right now. And how I can't wait to hold them and give them a name. All about how much I love their mom."
Bradley let you bury your face against his neck. It didn't feel like you were hiding from him so much as giving him a taste of the kind of response he'd get if the two of you were alone. "I like that idea." You kissed the side of his neck and said, "I adore you, Roo. You'll be the best daddy."
Bradley almost laughed when you jolted in your seat after the nurse called your name. "Come on back, you two," she said with a smile. "Hopefully mom and dad can leave with some new family photos."
"Holy shit," Bradley replied, palms suddenly sweaty. Baby photos. He was on his feet in an instant, ready to go. And maybe this was what his dad felt like. Perhaps his parents didn't know what they were doing either, but rather they just counted themselves lucky to go along for the ride. He wished one of them had left him a notebook.
You were smiling up at him as he reached for your hand again, and your fingers felt sure and steady all wrapped up with his. "I'm excited, too," you whispered, answering your own question from earlier while he ran his thumb along your rings. "And maybe a little nervous."
"I'm right here," he promised as the two of you followed the nurse into a room filled with equipment. "I'm not going anywhere."
He kissed you and then begrudgingly let go of your hand when the nurse gave you a hospital gown to change into. As she left the room with the promise that your doctor would be in shortly, Bradley dragged his palms across his khaki covered thighs as he sat down and watched you change. Even though you were suffering from near constant nausea, he thought you looked incredible. Your face was glowing, and you kept looking at him with adoration in your eyes. 
"Jesus," he grunted when you removed your bra. Was it possible that today he was the hornier one for once? "Sweetheart. Your tits," he whispered as he ran a hand over his face while you giggled. "Unreal." Then your underwear went sliding down your legs, and he reached down to help you out of them. "Hand me the gown," he told you as he folded your underwear across his knee.
You slipped into the gown when he held it open for you, and then you stood between his legs while he secured the ties and kissed you through the fabric. Your laughter filled the small room, and when the doctor walked in, she found you sitting on Bradley's lap while he ran his knuckles gently across your belly. 
"I'm Dr. Morris," she said, shaking hands with you as you stood and then reaching for Bradley's. "I love it when partners show up for appointments, too. It's a lot more fun."
He watched Dr. Morris help you up onto the table, immediately missing your warm body next to his. "I plan on being here for every appointment unless I'm deployed." Your smile faltered a little bit at his words, so he added, "And even then, I'd steal a jet and fly in for a few hours. This is that important to me."
Your smile was restored and then some. Bradley scooted the chair a little closer when you reached for his hand as Dr. Morris started to ask you some questions and enter them into the software. "Do you recall when you last menstruated? I'd like to calculate a due date assuming we find a healthy fetus."
Once you told her the date of your last period, Bradley blurted out, "Why wouldn't it be healthy?"
Now he had two pairs of eyes on him as you squeezed his sweaty hand. "It's very early," Dr. Morris said. "Complications are more likely to occur in the first trimester than in the second or third. And your wife is just between seven and eight weeks along based on her cycle."
"Oh," Bradley said, swallowing hard. You'd tried to tell him all of this information before, letting him know it was too early to inform your parents or Nat or any of your other friends. But it felt somehow wrong coming from someone else. He didn't like this information when it was laid out before him in the exam room. 
"It's okay, Roo," you told him, a sweet smile still on your face. So he nodded and watched your lips and the curve of your cheek as you answered a few more questions and asked about prenatal vitamins.
Then eventually Dr. Morris said the only words Bradley really wanted to hear right now. "Let's see what we can find with the ultrasound."
He was sitting on the edge of his seat, elbow leaning on the exam table as he gripped your hand for dear life. As excited as he'd been, now he was on the verge of being sick. What if he'd been too rough with you in bed? What if the football at the beach really did hit you in the wrong spot? What if all of the vomiting had been worse than either of you considered?
One thing was for certain. Bradley was going to love you no matter what, until his dying day. So he held onto your hand and kissed your knuckles as Dr. Morris squeezed lube onto a wand that looked a bit like one of the vibrators you had at home. "Is that for the ultrasound?" he asked, watching you spread your legs wider. 
"Yes," the doctor replied, and a huge computer monitor lit up. "We need to get really up close at this stage to be able to see anything, so we're doing a transvaginal ultrasound today. The ones you're thinking of that use a paddle on the belly will come later."
"Right," he replied, and as soon as she slipped the wand inside you, he watched you purse your lips in slight discomfort. "You okay, Sweetheart?" he whispered, eyes glued to your face for any sign of pain. But your pinched expression melted away, and your lips parted softly as you sighed and stared at the computer monitor. 
"Oh. Oh, Bradley! Look!"
When he turned toward the screen, he slowly stood as you pulled his hand closer to your body and held it with both of yours. Everything looked a little fuzzy at first, just some gray and black shapes. But then a cute little bean started to take shape as Dr. Morris adjusted the wand, and Bradley rasped, "Is that the baby?"
"Yes," she replied evenly, also watching the monitor. "And everything looks great."
Warmth spread through his entire body as Bradley huffed out a laugh while you giggled. He wasn't sure if his hand was shaking or if it was yours, but he leaned down and kissed your wrists before finding your lips with his. "That's our baby," he whispered, kissing you once more.
"It's adorable," you said, smiling nonstop. "Like a little bean, or a chicken nugget."
Bradley leaned on the table, keeping as close to you as he could. "I'm already so in love." He could feel tears in his eyes as Dr. Morris froze the screen. "Is it over?" he asked in a slight panic. In all honesty, he could happily spend the rest of the day right here with you and the baby, and he wasn't prepared to say goodbye yet.
"Just capturing some images," she reassured him. "Baby's first picture."
"Oh my god," Bradley groaned softly, and you ran your fingers through his hair as he ducked his head against your shoulder. "That's the first picture, Baby Girl."
"The baby looks just like you, Roo," you told him with a laugh, and he kissed you until the doctor cleared her throat.
"Let's see what we can find if we zoom in a little more."
With rapt attention once again, Bradley stared at the screen. It looked like the baby was bouncing around a bit, wiggling to an unknown song. "Is that movement good?" he asked. "And what's that little flickering spot?"
"Very good," she replied. "And the flickering is the heartbeat."
"The heartbeat?" That was inexplicably what threw him over the edge as a tear managed to squeeze its way down his cheek when he blinked. "Holy shit."
He just let his head rest against your chest and basked in the feel of your fingers in his hair as you whispered, "I love you." Bradley had no idea if you were talking to him or the baby. Or maybe both. Or maybe you loved Dr. Morris, because in this moment he certainly did as she snapped more photos. Maybe you loved everything right now just like he did.
"I love you, too."
--------------------------
Bradley was falling apart as you ran your fingertips along his scarred cheek. Or perhaps he was completely keeping it together. You weren't really sure. He had some tears in his eyes even though he was smiling, and the two of you were holding onto each other. 
"Do you want to listen to the heartbeat as well?" Dr. Morris asked, and the two of you responded at the same time. 
"Yes!"
She laughed and adjusted the ultrasound wand inside you which was actually extremely uncomfortable, but you were starting to think Bradley would cry harder when she removed it. And then you heard it. Dr. Morris adjusted something on the control panel, and set a device on your belly, and you could hear the heartbeat. 
"Why is it so fast?" Bradley asked, squeezing your hand. "That's like really fast."
Now your heartbeat was picking up, but Dr. Morris said, "One hundred and fifty two beats per minute. That's perfectly where it should be."
"Oh, okay," Bradley sighed, eyes transfixed on the monitor. "That's good then. That's a strong Bradshaw heartbeat right there. Can you take another picture? The nugget looks really cute like that."
You laughed and reached for him when she eventually shut off the equipment and removed the wand. At Bradley's request, she printed out enough copies of each image that you'd be able to give them to your parents, all of your friends and even Bradley's cousin Brenda in Virginia. 
"This seems like overkill," you whispered as the printer just kept going and going.
"It's not," he promised. "I need all of them to wallpaper my locker and fill my helmet bag. Just a bunch of pictures of you and now the baby, too."
"We'll get more ultrasound photos at the next appointment. And the next one after that," you reminded him. 
"Good. We'll have enough to wallpaper at home, too." Eased himself back down into the chair as you sat up a little bit while Dr. Morris cleaned up her workstation. 
"When is the due date?" you asked suddenly. 
"March 24th," she replied, and you and Bradley shared a smile. "Do either of you have any other questions for me?" she asked as she handed a massive stack of ultrasound photos to your husband who looked like he just won the lottery. 
"When can we find out if it's a girl or a boy?" he asked, looking through the images with a crooked little grin on his face. 
"In the second trimester," she assured him. "You'll make a special appointment for an anatomy scan."
You cleared your throat and said, "So... I've been really quite... I'm sure it's the hormones and everything, but I've been extremely aroused for the past few weeks." Bradley gave you a wide eyed look as you asked, "Basically, I want my husband around the clock right now, and I want to know if that's normal?"
He let out a strangled choking sound, and his cheeks started to flush pink as Dr. Morris said, "That's totally normal. Have at it."
You pressed your lips together before you quickly asked, "And rough is okay? Like pretty rough."
"Yep," she replied, completely unfazed by your words as Bradley looked like he wanted to run out of the room with his stack of baby pictures. "Anything else?"
A smile crept to your lips, one that Bradley would have probably found alarming if he were looking anywhere else except the door at the moment. "Actually, yes. I do have one more question for you, Dr. Morris. Based on the size of the baby and the date of my last period, can you tell me when you think the baby was conceived?"
"Sure," she replied, turning the monitor back on and scrolling through all of the information in your electronic file. 
"You did not just ask her that," Bradley whispered, his voice deep with annoyance and maybe a little bit of desire as you grinned at him and bit your lip. 
"I would say you probably conceived right around June 27th."
You squealed with delight as Bradley groaned. "Thank you so much, Dr. Morris. We'll see you again in a few weeks."
When she left the room, you hopped off the table and started to untie your gown, pausing to pump your fist in the air while Bradley held his forehead in his hand. "Okay, okay. You win," he whined as he laughed. "You win."
"I told you the baby was conceived in the Honda!"
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Later that night, Bradley kept reminding himself that Dr. Morris said rough sex was okay. That seemed to be the only way you wanted it as you got on all fours on the bed and said, "Fuck me hard, Daddy." And Bradley was never going to be one to deny his wife anything she asked for. 
Beads of sweat were rolling down his face, occasionally dripping onto your back as he leaned over you. He was panting next to your ear as he went as hard as he could, fucking you until your knees buckled and he had to hold you up. "You know, I used to have a wife who liked it sweet sometimes. I wonder what happened to her?"
"You knocked her up," you gasped as he rubbed your clit with his fingers. 
Fuck, he was getting close, and your words were not helping in the least. "Come on, Baby Girl. Come for Daddy." 
A few more swipes of his fingers and a little more dirty talk, and you were coming. Holy hell, you were coming hard, which was a good thing, because Bradley needed a break. You released an unholy moan as your legs gave out again, and this time, he let you sink down to the bed as he grabbed his cock in time to come all over your ass and your back. 
"Roo," you gasped as he painted you up, and you met his eyes over your shoulder. "That's so fucking hot!"
"I'm glad you think so," he grunted before he sprawled out on the bed next to you on his back. "I got nothing left in the tank, Sweetheart. Do not ask me for more tonight."
You crawled over to kiss his sweaty face and whispered, "You did so good," as you patted his abs adoringly. "You're already the world's best Daddy." Then you leaned down and cleaned his cum from the head of his cock with your tongue, and Bradley moaned as you climbed out of bed. "I'm going to shower and get ready for bed."
He raised his hand in a wave or surrender, he wasn't quite sure which. Forty-five minutes of nailing you until you screamed his name was the most intense workout he'd had in weeks. He needed to hit his home gym in the garage a little harder. Maybe he could invite Jake over to lift weights with him, and then he could sneak away and take a nap while you and Jake had one of your gossip sessions. That actually sounded pretty great.
Bradley managed to get out of bed long enough to let Tramp out and brush his teeth. By that point, you were getting out of the shower and drying yourself off,  humming and sighing softly. 
"I know what you're trying to do," he said with his toothbrush hanging out of his mouth. "And it's not gonna work."
You looked at him with one eyebrow raised as you ran the towel across your chest. "I'm sorry. What exactly am I trying to do that's not going to work?"
He spit out his toothpaste and rinsed his mouth, sending a glare at you in the mirror. "Look at your fucking tits, Sweetheart. Now you're just flaunting them."
"I'm literally just standing here."
He shook his head and kissed your forehead as he walked past. "You know what you did."
When you slipped in bed next to him, he pulled you close while you laughed softly. You were wearing nothing except for his old UVA shirt, and when you curled up next to him, he pushed you gently onto your back. Then he yanked the shirt up and shimmied under the covers so his lips were next to your tummy. 
He kissed up and down your side before laying with his cheek on your hip and one hand on your belly. "Listen kid, I don't know what you're doing in there, but I need you to chill, okay? Someday soon, you'll get to see how pretty and perfect your mommy is. Yes, I think about her all day long. Yes, I love her, but I can only take so much. Your old man is an old man."
You lifted up the covers, and Bradley felt your fingers in his hair. "No, you're not."
He kissed the spot just below your belly button before returning to his pillow. "I'll be close to thirty-eight when this little nugget arrives."
"That's not old."
When you curled up on him this time, he collected you in his arms. If you were surprised by his words, you didn't let on. "My dad died when he was twenty-nine. My mom died when she was forty-two. You're a bit younger than me, not that I mind. But my age is something I think about a lot. I'm older than all my friends. I like to be prepared for things before I jump into them. I like to feel out my surroundings. Except when it comes to you, apparently."
You snuggled in a little closer, voice soft as you asked, "What do you mean?"
Bradley kissed your fingers before lacing them with his in the dark bedroom. "I was all in with you as soon as you looked at me. Zero hesitation. No turning back."
You buried your face in his chest and moaned. "You can't just talk about me like that. It makes me insane for you," came your muffled voice, and Bradley laughed. 
"I guess I never had any hesitation about us having kids either. And I'm just saying... it's nice to have time to think about the baby before the baby actually gets here. But I'm also in my head a lot right now about my parents and how much more flying I've got left in me and how I don't actually know how the fuck to take care of a baby."
"Bradley!" Your voice was scolding as you propped yourself up on him. "We're a team. And I wouldn't lie to you. You're not old, and I'm pretty sure nobody actually knows how to take care of a baby until they have one in front of them. Then you just kind of do it, I guess. The fact that you are so excited about this pregnancy is at least half of what's turning me on so much. You will be the best dad imaginable, because you love me so well, and I don't doubt you have more of that to give."
He was exhausted, and your words settled over him like something he could physically feel. "I really am so excited. Today felt like a dream. I just want to cover the whole house in the ultrasound photos, and I can't wait to get another smaller paper airplane tattoo."
He felt your fingers trace his tattoo in the darkness. You knew exactly where it was without guidance just like he knew exactly where yours was. "You'll get it right here? With the baby's name on it?"
"Yeah," he whispered, starting to feel like he was going to doze off.
"I have a question," you said, and he squeezed your hand softly. "Earlier you asked when we can find out if it's a boy or a girl."
He smiled at the hesitation in your voice. "What's your question?"
Bradley could feel your heartbeat against his body, and he thought about how he had been able to see and hear what the baby was doing just a few hours ago. The beautiful sound of that rapid heartbeat that belonged to his child. 
"Do you care? If it's a boy or a girl?"
"No," he answered honestly. "Not one bit. I just care that it's ours."
"Me too. I'm happy either way." Your words sounded soft and dreamy, and he believed them.
"I love you both. Now let the old man sleep."
--------------------------
The rest of the week felt like a bit of a reality check. You tried taking the prenatal vitamins from Dr. Morris, but you threw them back up almost instantly every single time. "Just skip them," Bradley said on Friday morning as you threw up in the toilet when you were trying to get dressed for work. 
"I can't," you practically wailed. "They are supposed to keep me healthy so I can keep the baby healthy." You looked up at him from where you were sitting on the floor.
He sighed and checked the time. "Why don't you just stay home today? You're looking pretty green, and it's Friday anyway. Text Bickel."
Anger flared inside you. He was standing there looking nice and tidy in his khakis while you were on the floor turning yours into a wrinkly mess. And the reason for that was the fact that you had to deal with all of this shit. He just got to enjoy your libido while being excited about the baby. You really didn't want to start resenting him right now when you were leaving for Maryland soon.
"I can't just skip work on a whim like what I'm doing isn't important," you snapped. "I'm trying to get my presentation ready for Annapolis, in case you forgot you offered to help me with that."
He was on his knees in an instant with your chin in his hand. "Hey, that's not what I meant. I just don't want you overexerting yourself, especially since your work is important and you'll be traveling soon."
You still felt bitchy, even though he made you peanut butter crackers and took Tramp for a walk while you stayed curled up in bed for an extra twenty minutes. "That's right. I'll be gone for a week. I'm sure you're looking forward to having a break from the near constant sex."
You used the vanity to pull yourself to your feet while your stomach lurched, even though he was holding his hand out to help you. "Look at me," he demanded without touching you at all. You didn't want to, but you shifted your gaze to his face as he stood too. "If you really think that's true, then we have a serious problem. I'm going to assume that you feel the need to take your nausea out on me, and that's fine. I don't really mind. That's what I'm here for. But do not accuse me of ever wanting to be separated from you."
You pressed your lips together and just nodded as he leaned down to kiss your cheek. You didn't want to be away from him either, but you felt another wave of sickness rolling through your body.
"I need to go, Sweetheart. I'll stop and get you some of those ginger pills on my way home. Maybe they'll help. I love you."
After he left, you threw up again and fought the urge to throw the bottle of prenatal vitamins across the bathroom. Even now you were horny enough that you considered climbing back in bed with your vibrator to take the edge off, but you knew nothing would be as good as the real thing. And you'd have to apologize to Bradley before you could have that, and it would undoubtedly make you cry when you did. 
When you finally made your way back out to the kitchen, you found more peanut butter crackers arranged on a plate in the shape of a heart with one of the ultrasound photos next to it. Tears welled up in your eyes, and you tried to call your husband, but it went to voicemail. You listened to his raspy voice before ending the call and texting him instead.
I'm sorry. If you want Marry Me Rooster for dinner, pick up some chicken along with the ginger pills.
After you tucked the ultrasound picture in the new Bronco, you spent your whole morning sitting quietly with Cat, the two of you going over each presentation slide with a fine tooth comb. "Is that calculation correct?" she asked, pulling out a calculator. 
"It fucking better be. I did it myself. Months ago."
She looked at you with wide eyes. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," you lied, anxious that Bradley hadn't responded to your text. Two days ago, you were having the absolute time of your life with Dr. Morris, and now you wanted to scream. "Can we just finish this?" you said through gritted teeth as Cat checked your math which was obviously done correctly. 
"That's what we're working on," she said smoothly, using her mom voice on you and making your nerves prickle. "Finishing the slides so we can spend next week practicing and getting our notes in order for all of these meetings and cocktail receptions."
The last thing you wanted to do right now was pretend you were drinking alcohol while trying not to vomit. Nothing about this trip to Annapolis seemed appealing. And you didn't want to have to try to hide your pregnancy from your parents if you drove to see them one night. 
"Are you sure you're okay?" Cat asked, and you had to steel your spine as you nodded. 
"I'm perfect." There was no point in making her mad at you when the two of you would be in close quarters for several days, so you rolled your shoulders and got back to work.
-----------------------------
Asking Jake if he wanted to workout actually wasn't the best idea Bradley had come up with recently. It would be nice to have someone to spot for him at the weight bench, but if you were making his favorite dinner, he'd rather spend the time with you. 
"Fuck," he groaned as Jake followed him to the grocery store on his way home. Apparently he needed protein powder and didn't mind that Bradley had to stop for chicken. Of course now he had to try to discreetly grab the ginger pills that you wanted to try for your nausea. 
It ended up being easier than he thought since Jake took fifteen minutes to decide which flavor of protein powder he wanted. He was still looking at them when Bradley went back to that aisle. "Are you almost done?"
Jake shot him a nasty look from where he was squatting at the bottom shelf. "Listen, it would go faster if I didn't get hit on constantly when I'm wearing my uniform."
Bradley rolled his eyes so hard, he was afraid he'd get a migraine. "Keep it in your fucking pants. I'll meet you at my house."
Jake grabbed a container and followed him to the registers. When they passed a hot sauce display, he grabbed one and handed it to Bradley. "Get this for Angel, and maybe you'll get laid. Sounds like you need it."
"It's literally the last thing I need," he mumbled, but paid for it anyway along with the ginger and the chicken. When Bradley slid his credit card back in his wallet, he saw the corner of the ultrasound image he had tucked in there last night. He unfolded it and took a peek as Jake paid for his powder. You were everything. And the baby was everything. And he should have been a little more patient with you this morning. 
"You coming?" Jake asked, and Bradley shoved the nugget photo back inside his wallet before slipping it into his pocket. 
You were already home, and Bradley parked the blue Bronco next to the red one. Jake came careening into the driveway, stopping about two inches from the back of the new Bronco. "Show her a little respect, okay?"
Jake snorted as he climbed out. "You literally fucked the other car to bits. I didn't do shit."
Bradley groaned as he walked inside with Jake on his heels. The first thing he saw was you in the kitchen, feeding Tramp a treat. You had on some skin tight yoga pants and a little shirt without a bra, and you turned to him and said, "Can we talk?" He opened his mouth to tell you that you could have any damn thing you wanted, and then you said, "Hi, Jake," with a look of surprise on your face. "I didn't know you were coming over."
"Hey, Angel," Jake crooned, walking into the kitchen and pulling you in for a tight hug. Shit, Bradley forgot to text you and let you know he wasn't going to be alone. "Didn't see you at lunch today."
"I worked through lunch," you replied, your eyes on Bradley. "Are you staying for dinner?"
"Nah, just going to lift weights out in the garage with Rooster for a bit. I'll be out of your hair after that."
"You can stay if you want," you told him, but he was already heading toward the hallway bathroom with his gym bag. "Why didn't you tell me he was coming over?" you whispered. "I'm not even wearing underwear, and you left one of the ultrasound photos on the fridge."
Bradley quickly pulled it down and stuck it in the freezer on his way to get to you. "I'm sorry. I meant to text you, but then I got in the Bronco and forgot." Tears welled up in your eyes; he should be used to this by now, but he was not. "If you're horny, I'll take care of you as soon as Jake leaves."
You scoffed at him. "It's not that. I don't just want that. I wanted to talk. You're not just a gigantic, walking dick to me."
Jake cleared his throat, and you and Bradley both turned to see him standing there in his gym clothes. "I'll meet you out in the garage," he said with a smirk. "Take your time."
"I'll just be a minute," Bradley called over his shoulder, but you'd already started to open the chicken he set on the counter. "Do you want to talk now?"
"No." Great. You were giving him one word answers now. 
"Would you like me to get changed and get out of your hair?"
"Yes."
---------------------------
As soon as Bradley walked through the sliding glass door and headed for the garage, you broke out in tears. What the fuck was your problem? You didn't mind if Jake was here or if he stayed for dinner. You didn't want to completely discourage Bradley from hanging up the nugget photo. You just couldn't control your emotions, and you had zero patience today. And you couldn't stop running to the bathroom to pee. 
You decided to fill up some travel mugs with water and take them out to the guys to smooth things over. Tramp ran around in the grass as you walked across the yard, and you could already hear the two of them talking over their playlist as you approached the doorway. 
"Is Angel's ass bigger now?" Jake asked, pointing to the dirty calendar that Bradley hung on the wall and strategically covered part of with a post-it note.
Your husband shook his head. "Stop staring at my calendar," he replied as he added weight to one side of the bar. "And stop talking about my wife's ass."
"She's in a feisty mood today. You probably didn't even need that hot sauce to get laid, old man." Based on Jake's response, you were pretty sure neither of them had seen you in the doorway yet as you stood there awkwardly. 
Bradley's brow creased. "She's been a real handful, actually."
Jake hooted with laughter. "In the bedroom? Never mind, I don't want to know."
It took Bradley a few seconds to respond. "Can we talk about anything else other than my wife? Please? Literally any other topic would be great."
You turned on your heel and carried the waters back toward the house as soon as you heard Jake say, "Speaking of asses, you know who has a great one..."
They were out there for a full hour. You made what turned out to be perhaps the most incredible looking batch of Marry Me Rooster of your life while you stewed. Even your husband was already sick of you. Soon you'd gain so much pregnancy weight, your ass would probably be enormous. He'd probably have to close his eyes just to have sex with you. 
You froze as you were putting the chicken onto a plate. What if he couldn't stand the sight of you with a belly at all? All stretched out and weird? Bradley had probably glorified it in his mind, but you knew it wasn't going to be all that appealing when you were nine months along in the middle of March with stretch marks galore. You were already bloated enough that Jake noticed.
You were turning and looking down at your body when they both came walking back inside, out of breath. "Smells good in here. Are these for us?" Bradley asked, pointing at the waters on the island. 
"Yes," you whispered, afraid to meet his eyes. As soon as you heard his voice, you were horny again, but you didn't want to keep forcing him to have sex with you just because you couldn't help yourself.
Jake kissed you on the cheek, and when you told him he was welcome to stay for dinner, he said, "I'll take a raincheck. See you for golf on Sunday, Rooster," and headed out to his car.
"Do you think you can eat dinner?" Bradley asked you softly. When you turned away from him and nodded, he said, "You didn't have to wait for me if you were hungry. Do you want me to shower first?"
You burst into tears once again. "I don't know if I'm hungry. I don't ever know. Sometimes I just grow up. And I can't stop fucking crying! And I don't want you to be so sick of me that you'd rather talk about literally anything else with Jake, including someone else's ass."
"Whoa, whoa," he said quietly, spinning you around again. "I don't want to talk about anything else besides you, Sweetheart."
You shook your head and covered your eyes with your hands. "I tried to bring the waters outside. I heard you."
When you were pulled snug against his sweaty shirt, you felt slightly better. "Baby Girl. I was not about to get into a conversation with Jake about how I can barely keep up with you in bed. In order to keep my pride intact, I would at least want him to know you're pregnant if I'm admitting that you're wearing me out." He kissed the top of your head over and over.
"It feels like you're getting sick of me," you sobbed softly. "And you brought me hot sauce even though I can't eat it right now, and that made me so sad."
"I couldn't be less sick of you if I tried. I just needed to keep Jake off my back rather than let slip that you're pregnant, so I got the hot sauce. And it's completely my fault I forgot to tell you he was coming over, but I had a lot on my mind today."
"Like what?" you asked, inhaling how delicious he smelled even compared to the dinner you made.
"Like possible baby names and the look and feel of your pussy when I fuck you. Do you need me right now? Because I'm ready to go when you want me."
"So badly," you squeaked. "I'm sorry, Roo."
"Don't ever apologize again for wanting to have sex with me. I will be the one to apologize if I don't last as long as you need me to."
You nodded against him. "Well then I'll apologize for having a bad attitude."
"Do you need me to fuck the attitude out of you?" 
"Yes, sir."
-------------------------------
Imagine how excited he'll be holding that baby in his beefy arms. Just stay calm, sweet Roo. The hormones won't last forever. Up next, we're going to Annapolis. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 31
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thatsdemko · 1 year
Text
happiness comes in ice cream - m.verstappen
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masterlist
requested: n
pairing: max verstappen x reader
warnings: mentions of jos + healing inner childhood
a/n: no f1 this weekend means not being disappointed.. but also if you can donate and help imola please follow the link here. feedback is always appreciated xx
max has a pretty perfect life. he’s got a world championship title, an amazing car and team, perfect support, and a perfect significant other. the one thing that stands in his way for true happiness, his father.
you’ve heard the countless stories of how his father, jos, never treated him like a child always like a pawn of success or an adult at the young ages. it saddens you, that he never had a real childhood, and it hurts even more that he thinks the treatment he got was normal.
you told him your upbringings, they aren’t perfect either, but in comparison you can’t complain. your dad never made you walk home because you lost a race. max deserved true happiness, and everyday you see him fight his father more and more for that distance. the distance for a better life.
“horrible race. p2? you can’t let checo out pace you.” jos scoffs his son, you can see the anger in his fathers eyes. the disappointment, like his son hadn’t done enough and tried his best.
“it just wasn’t in the cards.” max shrugs, it bothers him to get second. he’s a perfectionist at heart and wants every race to be his best, but when he looks at you? all of his anger and frustration diminishes.
“you did well.” you chime in, hand reaching for his, he takes it. lips pressing a sweet soft kiss to your knuckles as he mumbles a thank you.
jos just tries to snap his son out of it, you can see in Max’s eyes he’s exhausted from his routine. even if he gets pole position his father is still not happy, there’s just no win. it’s starting to affect your relationship with his family, you can’t look jos in the eyes yet alone stand to have a decent conversation with him.
you try to push a smile, act like things are fine but max notices when the smile doesn’t reach your eyes. he notices when you’re not okay and how his father makes you uncomfortable.
“just leave us alone, okay?” max drops his helmet on the desk in the drivers room, he’s turning to his dad, who expected it was you he was talking to.
he’s shocked, his eyes dart between you and his son, “we aren’t finished we have to talk about improvement—“
“I want nothing more than to just have a talk not about racing. y/n can give me that, you can’t.” he’s lightly pushing his father out the door until he’s able to close the space between you two and his fathers emotions.
max lets out a deep long sigh, “checo looked happy.” he smiles, arms pulling you into his body, lips gently pressing against your lips. you love your alone time with him, the way he’s so affection it’s different than his composure to the rest of the world.
“you look happy right now.” you reach for the Red Bull hat that’s covering his messy dirty blond hair, you toss it aside, fingers running up and down his cheeks, “I like it when you’re happy.”
a smile spreads across his face, “you make me happy.”
“you want to get ice cream? you deserve it for a good race.” you offer, he always said his father never rewarded him for his hard work as a kid, it’s your turn to try and give him the things he couldn’t have.
“I was thinking more about having sex, but I like ice cream too.”
Charles takes pole position in Baku, it’s his first time that high up on the board and you both couldn’t have been prouder for the Ferrari.
you can hear Max’s phone ringing in his bag in his drivers room, and you take it upon yourself to turn it off. you know who’s calling, max knows it as well, but he ignores the sound of the text notifications when he walks in the room and just presses a kiss to your lips and takes his hat.
“I thought you did good out there. lots of challenges.” you rub his back with your finger nails following him out of the room and into the garage, where everyone is congratulating him on, a successful, qualifying.
he turns around, hand bringing your knuckles to his lips, “ice cream afterwards?” he asks, the happy spark in his eyes that make you smile.
“ice cream afterwards.”
“nothing tastes better than victory, but this is good.” he licks the drops of the melting strawberry and vanilla cold cream down his cone. you chuckle watching the millions of paper napkins he’s holding disintegrate.
“I told you to get a bowl.” you laugh taking one of your clean napkins and wipe the pink colored cream off his face.
he never splurges to gain weight during the season, always trying to stay fit, but when a wins a win he knows the offer for ice cream is up on the table and he’ll never turn it down. he admits, he wishes he got this during childhood, but he’s happy he gets it with you.
“you got chocolate on your nose.” he licks his thumb before swiping it over your nose gently, he takes what’s on his thumb and tastes it, “a little bit of you and chocolate. I like it.” he hums in satisfaction.
“I heard there’s a playground a couple blocks away, we should go use the swings.” you suggest, watching the white cream slip onto his black shorts. he groans using one of his napkins and water to try to wash it away.
“now I have to go home and change, I can’t show up looking like this.”
“it’s a playground, nobody cares if you’re dirty.” you laugh finishing the bowl and set the styrofoam down on the bench beside you, he lets you take a couple of bites of his ice cream to help him finish.
“thank you.” he says, sticky hand reaching to touch your thigh. you want to grimace at the touch, but you know he never had moments like this with his own family. he never had someone to take him for a treat that he deserves, so you let him.
“for what, max?”
“making me happy.”
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httpsghostie · 8 months
Note
Hi!!! I'm obsessed with your writing, especially all the Ghost stuff. YUM!! I was wondering if you'd be able to write an angsty and emotional blurb with DBF Ghost...Maybe they get into a fight or something
Favorite Regret
pt 1 / pt 2 / pt 3
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took me a while to get to this but hope you enjoy it <3
any similarities with sleep token is a mere coincidence I am not responsible for this
Summary: Simon doesn't know how to handle love, so he pushes you away.
Word Count: 1k
Warnings: dbf!Simon 'Ghost' Riley x f!reader, angst/hurt, alcohol abuse, age gap (reader's in 20s and simon in his late 30s) // masterlist
Your story with Simon began a few months back when he returned from his duty and desperately – more like unconsciously, needed affection.
It happened, you were there, emotionally available for you dad’s best friend, it was wrong, he knew it, but Christ you were too good to be true.
Always there for him, dropping off work and studies only to take care of a fever he’d have, pampering him with lots of kisses, making him a warm cup of tea. He was never a physical touch kinda guy, but with you, the way you felt lying peacefully on his chest, he couldn’t help it, he became clingy, almost annoyingly clingy.
And he filled you with empty promises, painting a future for the two of you. He held you in his arms, he let you invade his personal space – which he then called our personal space. You were in fields of elation, but every color seemed to fade as he shut the doors to his heart again.
It’s almost like he determined you were no longer useful, you had given everything to him, you trusted him wholeheartedly, just for him to take it all from you and throw it in the bin.
You hated him, the image of the one you loved and cared for turning black and white as the entirety of your relationship turned meaningless. It’s like he gave you a whole beautiful horizon that stretched ahead in front of you, and then made it disappear from your view, leaving you standing at the edge of uncertainty.
He took what he wanted from you and left.
“You’re not getting it, this is never going to work, your dad doesn’t even know about us, he’ll kill me if he finds out. God, what have I done?” He had his back turned to you as he sat on the edge of the messy bed from your previous actions. You covered your bare chest with the blanket, your face getting red and hot.
“No, you don’t get it, Simon. I’m a fucking adult, and you are a childish, self centered idiot, can’t you see it? You just cared for me when you needed someone to be by your side, and now that you don’t need me anymore, you’re gonna throw what we had away because what? You said so?” You screamed back at him, eyes filled with hot tears that dared to roll down your cheeks.
“Call me what you want, I don’t care. This was a mistake.”
“A mistake? Is that what you’re gonna call me?” Your voice was shaky, and you tried your best to keep your cool. You dressed yourself quickly, still expecting an answer from him, but he just sat there, watching all the events unfold. “What is wrong with you?”
“You don’t wanna be with me, I can’t even stand myself, you deserve someone better.”
“Someone better?” You stood in front of him in denial, crossing your arms, but he never looked at you. “Did I just hear you right?” 
“I’ve made myself clear, kid. You should go.” He finally got up, and your eyes accompanied his emerging size. But he still never looked at you, he just walked up to the front door to his apartment and opened it. You slammed it closed, pointing a finger to his face.
“You listen to me-”
“No, you listen to me.” He grabbed the sides of your arms, holding you firmly. His teary eyes staring down into your soul. “Do you think this isn’t hard for me, either? You don’t understand, we can’t be together, I can’t disappoint your father like that, I can’t be with you. I should’ve never texted you in the first place.”
And the way he spoke made you inhale a familiar smell escaping from his lips. Whiskey.
“Simon, are you drunk?” You cried. 
“Go.” He finally let go of your arms, leaving your skin almost bruised.
You brushed your arms and headed to his kitchen, trying to find the bottle that was shoved in the trash can. You picked the empty whiskey bottle, noticing a discarded pack of cigarettes — empty, too, and smashed.
"You drank half a bottle?" You raised the object to your head, he looked down, rubbing his eyes. "Unbelievable."
"You're still young, you have a prosperous future ahead of you and I won't be the one to hold you back." He said quietly, fighting back the tears and the agonizing pain in his chest.
"God, you talk like you have a terminal disease." You scolded, leaving the bottle on the kitchen aisle and grabbing your stuff from the couch. "Maybe you do, Simon, maybe your terminal disease is not being able to accept love. Maybe your terminal disease is you becoming the one who you swore you'd never become."
It came out strained, and you didn't realize you were comparing him to his father until his hand gripped your wrist tightly. He looked deep into your eyes, and you could see how pissed he was.
"I'm not him. Get out." You pulled away and he opened the door one more time. 
You didn't comply, your eyes desperately tried to find the loving Simon you knew, the one who held you close in the night, the one who couldn't stand your cheesy movies but still watched them with you. But he wasn't there, the version you saw in front of you had killed the previous one. The Simon you knew was dead.
"Simon, I didn't-"
"Get out." 
Now he screamed, almost spitting out, his hot tears flooding his eyes and rolling down his red cheeks. 
He stood outside the apartment watching you clumsily press the buttons on the elevator, giving him one last glance before finally walking away.
A mistake. That's how he said it. This relationship was a mistake, and you were his favorite regret.
taglist: @butterbunana @snoisisabitch @nuhteyam @iamabsolutelynothere @blissful--moon @jellyluvr @khomugi @xaintxun @kichimiz @frog-spot @sasukeswife3 @aly0be
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peachesofteal · 8 months
Note
What happens when this guy is mean to darling? Shutting her down? It could be something small.
Darling is getting excited bc she’s talking about some work trip she won and she gets to take her family, and she’s so excited to take the baby away and get some fresh air on a beach somewhere (Simon over hears and packs that away for later. Johnny doesn’t because he’s too busy eyeing this man down) just for dude to interrupt darling, “you can’t travel with an infant. You have to stay home, you’re a parent now. That’s your life” or some shit. Maybe even an “ah you’re a little loud right now, let’s take the volume down.”
Or maybe.. maybe it’s a jealous remark. “Taking your baby daddies too? Or wait..which one is the dad?” Dudes been noticing the tension and maybe he doesn’t handle it well.
either way.
You sink back into yourself a little.
It’s Johnny who cracks. Simon can’t get his hands on him fast enough before Johnny is shoving at this guy.
“Mind repeating that? You’re not gonna talk to her like that.”
Fight ensues. You send dude home because this is a family matter now.
And honestly? Simon has always been a pillar of strength and control. But Johnnys ability to act on emotion and instinct is what makes him such a good man. The man you fell in love with. He’s been struggling and hurt and missing you and how can you stay mad at him? Simon is a planner and has the patience but Johnny is more hot headed.
“When are you going to realize, we’re not going anywhere, darling, I am not going anywhere. You deserve to be treated like gold. And that guy? He ain’t it. He ain’t it because he ain’t me. Ain’t us.”
So darling and Johnny have it out. This confrontation has been needed for a while. Simon just watches, waiting to see if he has to step in. But oh Johnny.
He’d rip out his heart and lay it at your feet if you asked him. He hates this feeling. Hates not being with you and Simon together the way it should be.
His break down is what gets darling to crack a little bit. How can one deny the honesty in such a brazen display of emotion?
So a chance is offered. This little work vacation. Maybe… they can try and see how they’d function as a family. Together. Morning routines and night routines with baby. How they navigate it. If it doesn’t work? Then nope. But if it does?
Maybe their paradise could last forever then huh?
(My southern accent is coming out while writing this, xcuse me)
God yes. I love this. I could indulge in this scenario all day long.
Takes place after one of my favorite asks in the au'verse, here. (bartender anon come back to me)
18+ / disco baby au / mature themes
"Wait, you're taking Bee with you to this conference?" Your boyfriend blinks incredulously, like you hadn't already told him the same information, three times already. Twice last week. Once this week.
"Yes, I told you... the other day, remember?"
"No." He scoffs. "How are you going to manage a baby at a work conference?"
"It's a floor expo, so it's not like I'll be in lectures or anything. Bee will just come along in her carrier, and I'll get to show her the beach for the first time. I know it's going to be a lot but I've been preparing, getting her more used to the carrier and stuff. We’re really excited!" You were over the moon about it. You hadn't been to a beach in so long, and to be able to take your daughter for the first time had you brimming with excitement. You couldn't wait to put her feet in the ocean, let her feel sand. Provide her with all new experiences, watch her learn them and grow.
"And your boss is just okay with you taking your baby, on a work trip?" His voice pitches louder, and you inwardly wince when the conversation that's carrying on in the room slams to a stop.
"Well, yeah."
"You asked her?"
"Kind of, I mentioned that I was going to bring Bee along, and-"
He cuts you off with your name, sharp, and too loud, before sighing.
"You can be so stupid sometimes. You just... never think things through. All emotion and no logic. You really think you can handle that? A baby at a convention? You cry over getting stuck at red lights." The words sting, but they don't surprise you, and you’re about to snap back at him when there's a noise over your shoulder, the sound of your baby, followed by the grind of a deep Manchester accent.
"What's going on in here?" Fuck.
Simon's holding Bee, big hand supporting her back but she's sitting up, face tucked against his chest, thumb in her mouth. She's watching you, tired, waiting for the hand-off from dad to mum, and as it happens, Simon speaks again.
"Darling, take Bee onto the porch." He instructs, and no matter what you do, you can never fight your body and brain's instant willingness to do as he asks.
"Simon, I-"
"Please." He nods, big hand warm on his daughter's back, before it slides down to linger across your forearm. The touch is fleeting, barely there, but it feels like so much more.
You want to say no, want to tell him he doesn't need to get involved, that you're okay, when-
Johnny steps around the blockade that is Simon's body, and launches himself at your boyfriend.
Your shock stopgaps your throat, and then you screech.
"Johnny, stop!" Bee immediately starts crying, a high pitched scream that breaks down into tears. Adrenaline flushes your body, and you stare at him wordlessly. Johnny, who's been cold and distant. Johnny, who's been weird around you. Johnny, who struggles to even make eye contact with you sometimes now, is jumping your boyfriend. In your own house.
"Ye just call her stupid?" His fingers tighten around the shirt collar that’s clutched in his grasp, and your boyfriend sputters.
"Get off me, you fuckin' psycho!"
"I'll show ye psycho, ye piece of shite."
"Take Bee outside, right now." Simon commands, and you spin on your heel, slipping out the sliding door and onto the porch, bouncing your baby as you rock her, soothing her back to her sleepy self.
You ease Bee's bedroom door closed as quietly as you can, clinching it shut without stirring her, your only success in an evening that's gone horribly, awfully wrong.
Your phone buzzes in your back pocket, and you have no doubt it's your boyfriend again, seething with rage at being thrown out of your house after you insisted he leave so you could... address certain things.
Why did he say that? What caused that? What made him so upset with you? And what the fuck happened with Johnny?
Simon is sitting on your living room couch, thighs splayed wide, wider than necessary, if you're being honest, while Johnny paces with his arms crossed.
He's also seething mad, boiling with rage, with emotion, and you're not looking forward to any of the conversations you're going to have to now.
Life could have been a lot easier if you had fallen for only one guy, instead of two.
"Look-"
"No."
"Johnny, take a breath." Simon murmurs, and he does, letting it out in a long sigh before turning to face you fully.
"I am sorry, for the way I acted earlier. Ye didn't deserve that, Bee shouldn't have seen it."
"Well, she's a baby so let's hope she doesn't remember." you deadpan, and he frowns before continuing.
"But, I am not sorry for clocking that fuckin' bawbag, and I'd do it again for ye, do it as many times as I had to until ye realize the truth of things."
"Johnny-"
"I know I've been distant. I've been struggling, standoffish. I've been upset, I felt hurt that ye had our baby and never even called us, darling. Never even tried." Rage simmers in your blood.
"You fucking left me!" You snap, and he holds his hands up.
"We did. And I realize now, that my anger was misplaced. That I-"
"You gave me the cold shoulder, Johnny. You wouldn't even hold Bee at first."
"I know, I know. I was lost. And I should've realized earlier, how bloody stupid I was. How much of a fool I was bein'. I love ye, darling. I'm so, so sorry." He stares at you, eyes wide, and you look between him and Simon helplessly.
Simon just shrugs.
"You already know how I feel, 've told you a million times. You're it for me, for us. You and our baby. You're the only family we'll ever need, ever want. You know why we left, why we made the decisions we did. We can't go back and change it, but we can try to move forward."
"And-" Johnny jumps in, but his voice cracks, and you realize he's crying, hands mashed together as they shake. "I know ye don't want to let us in too much, because it's frightening. That we hurt you, that it doesn't matter why we did what we left. But we love you, darling. I love ye, so much. Just give us a chance, please."
"Let us come with you, on the trip." You laugh at Simon, immediately, but he looks at you with full seriousness. "You said it yourself, it will be a lot. Let us come, help with Bee. Spend some time together, see if it could work."
Could you? Would you?
No. They left you, remember? They dumped you. Why-
Your heart flutters and you can't help it, the wash of longing that swamps you. Johnny stares at you so earnestly, his emotions so raw, and it nags at you, reminds you of everything you had. Everything you lost.
What if you did try?
357 notes · View notes
slut4msby · 3 months
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one of 'those'. sakusa kiyoomi x reader (part two.)
+ tags & warnings; part one is not needed to read part two :3
+ a/n; day 4/7!! i thought yall deserved a part two but i also just really wanted to write a part two :3
+ part one.
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Ever since you gave birth to your daughter almost two years ago, Kiyoomi had not put her down. He would always tell you it’s because you were constantly working too hard and needed a break, which was the partial truth. In reality Kiyoomi couldn’t get enough of his daughter. She was the happiest baby, constantly giggling and smiling the complete opposite of Sakusa, however her looks were uncanny with her father. The pair was inseparable. When Sakusa would go away for away-games Mei would be in tears until you facetimed Kiyoomi, suddenly her smile which you adored so much was back. If Kiyoomi wasn’t available you would have to put on old matches or interviews containing her father. It made you a little bit jealous that Kiyoomi managed to steal all of your daughter's attention despite the fact you were the one who gave birth to her. 
Today Sakusa was at another away game. He missed his two pretty girls like hell, the same cycle for each game. All he wanted to do was go home and cuddle up to his wife and daughter. This time was different though, with the help of Meian you had planned to surprise Kiyoomi at the match today. Today’s match was important for Sakusa, MSBY Vs. EJP Raijin. A match against his cousin, and former teammate. The perfect match to bring Mei too. You had planned to sit in the stands to not distract Kiyoomi, and surprise him after the match by going down with your pass towards the end of the match.
As you arrived at the stadium with your daughter in hand. She wore a MSBY #15 jersey for her dad that was too big - essentially wearing it as a dress. Her hair was in two pigtails tied with yellow bows that matched her curly black hair. 
“You ready Mei-Mei?” You asked your daughter. To which she eagerly nodded in response, she was Sakusa’s biggest fan.
You and your daughter walked up to your seats, not too far back that Mei couldn’t see but also not too close that your surprise would be given away.
The match started off with Tomas serving for MSBY. The rallies were intense as expected from a division 1 match. As the rotation moved it was now Atsumu’s turn to serve. This piqued Mei’s interest as she looked closer and then back to you, “MAMA LOOK! IT’S UNCLE TSUMU!” Your daughter yelled. You couldn’t help but giggle at your daughter’s excitement. Sakusa hated how Atsumu got your daughter to call him ‘uncle Atsumu’. Your daughter was now watching intensely as Komori failed to receive the ball. “Momo, couldn’t pick it up mama. I don’t think I could either.” Your daughter frowned as Atsumu went in for his second serve, this time Komori was able to receive the ball almost flawlessly making your daughter stare at her actual uncle with admiration. However when EJP went to attack, MSBY perfectly received the ball letting Atsumu set up an attack which he tossed to Sakusa, scoring.
“And that’s MSBY’s #15, Kiyoomi Sakusa!” The commentators added over the speakers.
“Dada! Mama look! It’s dad.” 
“It is dad, Mei-Mei!” You say giving your daughter a tight squeeze, making her giggle. 
As the game was in it’s last set you got up from your seat, grabbing Mei and your belongings heading into the foyer. You walked up to the security showing them your lanyard before walking down to the court. Making sure to stand to the side walking towards their coach, Samson Foster. 
“Ah! I see you guys made it just in time.” Foster said, waving at Mei.
It was now at match point. You stood there intensely watching with Mei as the teams put all their effort into attacking and defending.
“Bokkun!” You heard Atsumu shout.
Bokuto ran up to the net, jumping. Only to get blocked by Suna and Bokuto’s ex-teammate Tatsuki Washio. MSBY’s Libero Shion Inunaki was quick to receive the ball.
“Omi!” Atsumu called, tossing the ball to Kiyoomi.
And Sakusa being Sakusa scored perfectly. “DADA!” Mei shouted towards Kiyoomi, gaining his attention. As his daughter enthusiastically waved at him.
The final whistle blew, gaining screams from the crowd as MSBY celebrated their win. Mei ran over to her dad who turned around at the sound of his daughter's footsteps, picking her up and throwing her in the air before catching her. “I didn’t know you two were going to be here.” He said to his daughter.
“It was mummy’s idea!” 
Kiyoomi couldn’t help but turn to you standing on the side, “Mhm? Well Mummy’s always got brilliant ideas, hey?” Mei eagerly nodded, “how ‘bout you go back to mummy and I’ll come see you two in a second.” He said before kissing his daughter's head, causing her to giggle and run back to you.
The two teams finished their post match traditions before Kiyoomi came over to your side. “Didn’t know you were gonna be here.” He said softly.
“Surprise!” You smiled at him. 
You walked with your daughter and husband towards the exit, “I’m going to get changed, I’ll see you two in a bit.”
“Okay dada!” Mei chimed.
As you and Mei stood waiting for your husband, someone crept behind you grabbing your daughter's shoulders causing her to let out a shriek. 
“Boo!” The voice called out.
You and Mei turned around, to see Komori standing behind you. “Momo!” Mei beamed. 
“Hey Mei-Mei, hey Y/N!” Komori said before picking up Mei giving her a hug, “Did ya like watching me Mei-Mei?”
“Yeah! But I liked watching dada more.” Mei said sternly.
“Of course you did. Your dad has a lot of fans you know. But I think you’re his favourite fan.” 
“Mei-chan!” Bokuto yelled out before him and Hinata ran up to your daughter. “Bo! Shoyo!” Mei said excitedly. 
The group of boys started chatting and playing with Mei as you waited for your husband. 
“Mei~ Your uncle ‘Tsumu is here!” Atsumu called proudly.
“Uncle ‘Tsumu!” 
“Stop making my daughter call you that, Miya.” Kiyoomi stated firmly. Before walking over to you. Kiyoomi was never one for affection but as you two stood there watching your daughter, he had snaked a hand around your waist. “I love you, and I love Mei.” He said, placing a kiss on your forehead.
“Mhm? I love you too, Kiyo. But I think Bokuto is trying to steal our daughter.” You giggle. 
This caused Kiyoomi to go into what you called “Serious dad Kiyoomi mode” - very original name. “Hey, bring me my daughter back!” 
“How did I get so lucky?”  You smile to yourself. 
©slut4msby.
334 notes · View notes
creedslove · 9 months
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more joel and baby headcanons pleaseee, it ignited my baby fever 😭😭
No outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader
A/N: alright bestie, I can't resist Joel as a dad either because he's the best 🥺❤️
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Joel is a tough man and you thought you would never see him cry, until the day you gave birth to your beautiful baby daughter and the moment he held her in his arms for the first time he teared up 
In fact, he managed to wipe a tear that insisted on running down his cheek quickly, but you caught that moment and pretended you didn't so you wouldn't embarrass him 
But from the moment he held his baby daughter in his arms for the first time, he knew there was no turning back: his heart just overflew with love and that little princess had him wrapped around her tiny little finger 
Joel loves his daughter so much he doesn't even have enough words to describe, all the worries and fears he had about maybe being too old to be a dad again and the trauma he had from being abandoned with a newborn were gone in the blink of an eye 
Joel carries her all the time, yeah his back hurts but so what? he is not gonna let that stop him from holding her 
He is so proud of her and he talks about her ALL.THE.TIME to whoever is willing to listen to it 
He keeps pictures of his baby daughter in his wallet because he is old-fashioned™ but he also has his phone full of pics and videos of her smiling or doing something cute 
Whenever he is out, he buys his baby girl something, he just can't help himself, if he sees something cute he's already swiping his credit card because his daughter deserves everything in the world 
Joel is the toughest mf you've ever met, that man doesn't shy away from hard work or a bar fight, but he is terrified of clipping the baby's nails because they are just so tiny so he actually leaves that to you 
But any other baby duty, he's there for you: diaper change, feeding or bathing the baby, he will help you without you even needing to ask, he just knows he's the father and that's his obligation too 
Joel naps with the baby all the time, like his chest is pretty much her second bed because that baby sleeps peacefully all snuggled up against her daddy, she doesn't fuss or cry at all 
If she cries in the middle of the night, he's the first one to get up and check on her, unless Joel is extremely tired and barely wakes up through the cries 
He plays the guitar for the baby!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! When she's already a few months old and is able to sit on the couch, he takes his guitar and strums it gently in front of her, always humming some song 
And she loves it, smiling big and giggling and that absolutely kills Joel because he can't handle how much he loves that little thing 
He doesn't sleep and spends the whole day worried when she's a little sick and he's with you during doctor's appointments whenever he can 
Father's day is simply his favorite day of the year because Sarah usually comes home and he gets to spend the day with his two beautiful daughters and with the love of his life: you ❤️
____
A/N: I need to give this man a baby 😭🥺
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359 notes · View notes
corroded-hellfire · 1 year
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Well, since it's this weekend… what about Ryan and Luke giving their favorite baby-sitter something for Mother's Day? Either after Eddie officially gets the girl, or before… I bet Brittany would loooove to find out that her kids made something for Mother's Day in school, and gave it to the baby-sitter instead of her. 😏
I love, love, love this. @munson-blurbs and I came up with a little sweet and spicy tale. Happy Mother’s Day to all the moms out there except Brittany 😘
Warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected (wrap it up), oral f!receiving, mild choking, Eddie’s breeding kink is loud and proud
Words: 4k
[As You Wish masterlist]
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“Okay, next we need a cup of water.” Eddie hands the glass measuring cup to Ryan, nodding towards the sink. “Fill ‘er up and then—carefully—dump it in the bowl.” Ryan does as he’s instructed, and Eddie proceeds with the recipe. “Now, Luke, you’re going to gently mix it all together.” 
Luke takes the directions a bit too seriously, circling the spoon around the bowl at a painstakingly slow pace. “Like that?” he asks proudly. 
“Liiiiittle faster, bud,” Eddie says, holding his thumb and forefinger apart slightly to emphasize his point. “I’d like to get these made before Father’s Day.”
Once the waffle batter is completely combined—Eddie had to help out before the milk curdled—he ladles it into the waffle iron, inhaling the cozy scent of homemade waffles. It’s what he’s always wanted: family dinners where he and his boys cook. Getting to spoil his girl with love and breakfast food. 
His girl. He still can’t believe that you’re his girl. 
“Did you guys make anything for Mom at school today?” Teachers usually have the kids do some sort of Mother’s Day craft, and Eddie wants to make sure that it gets to Brittany before she can accuse him of withholding her gifts. 
Ryan and Luke share a look that Eddie is unable to decipher. “Um, nothing?” Ryan says meekly, though it comes out as more of a question. 
Eddie frowns. “No art project this year? Not even a macaroni necklace?” He sets the timer and leans back on the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. “Neither of you?”
“No, we did,” Ryan admits, “but we were talking, and…we don’t wanna give them to Mom.”
“Yeah,” Luke chimes in, an unmistakable smirk spreading across his face, “we wanna give them to your giiiiiiirlfriend!” 
“Luke!” Ryan scolds, but his eyes tell Eddie that he had the same idea. “Is that okay?” he asks his dad. 
Eddie nods. “Of course. I think she’ll love that.” He starts to wipe down the counter before turning back to his boys. “You still need to give Mom the gifts that we bought her, yeah?” Not that she deserves them, he thinks bitterly, but she’ll have my head on a platter if they come over empty-handed. 
“Okay,” Ryan says as he puts the milk back in the refrigerator. “And the cards we bought, too.”
“Oh! And we made cards to go with our gifts tonight!” Luke adds. 
“Did you now?” Eddie asks, raising his eyebrows at his youngest son. “You got a future working for Hallmark?”
“Daddy, you know I’m going to be a monster truck driver.”
“Right, how could I forget?”
A key turns in the lock of the front door and an instant smile appears on Eddie’s face. Ever since he’d given you the key to his apartment, he’s been locking the door more just because the sound of you unlocking it when you come over makes him happy. Both boys scurry in that direction and Eddie follows behind at a leisurely pace. 
You’re barely able to put your keys back in your bag before being enveloped in two sets of small arms.
“Oof!” You toss your bag over on the closest chair and wrap your arms around the boys. “This is a nice welcome. Ooh, and what smells so good in here?”
“Happy Mother’s Day!” both boys cheer. 
It takes you a moment to realize that they’re saying those words to you. They are wishing you a happy Mother’s Day. 
“W-What?” you ask, slightly stunned. 
“We won’t see you on Sunday, so we wanted to have Mother’s Day with you now!” Luke says as he takes one of your hands in both of his. 
“Yeah!” Ryan agrees. “And we made your favorite breakfast for dinner. Waffles! Daddy helped.”
“Helped?” Eddie mumbles under his breath, but it goes unnoticed by both kids. 
“This is so sweet,” you say, the wide array of emotions hurtling through you. Dropping to your knees, you tug the Munson children against your body so that you can give them a proper hug. “I love you boys so much.”
“We love you, too,” Ryan says. 
“Let’s go get the presents,” Luke says to his brother.
“Ah-ah, not until after we eat,” Eddie pipes up.
Luke sighs and lolls his head in the direction of his father. “We can’t just go get them?”
“Fine, go ahead. There’s about to be some kissing anyway, and I don’t think you wanna see that,” Eddie teases. It works. The boys head down the hall to their rooms and as soon as you get back up on your feet, Eddie pulls you into his embrace. “Hey there, gorgeous.”
“Hi, handsome,” you say as you loop your arms around his neck. Tilting your head up, your mouth catches against your boyfriend’s and you sink into the kiss. A loud rattling noise and a shout of I’m okay has the two of you breaking apart. “Was this your idea?”
“Nope,” Eddie says, popping the “p.” He rubs his hands up and down your back as he gives you a smile that’s full of pride in his sons. “They asked me just yesterday if we could do this—have the waffles for dinner. And I didn’t know about the gifts until about two minutes before you walked in.”
“I’m getting spoiled tonight,” you muse, pressing a kiss to his stubbled cheek. You start to walk towards the table, but he pulls you back to him. 
“Oh, you have no idea,” he murmurs in your ear, squeezing your ass. “As soon as they leave, I’m going to—”
“Is dinner almost ready?” Luke whines as he thunders into the room. “I’m starving!”
Eddie races to him, crouching down and placing one hand on either of Luke’s shoulders. “Do you think you’ll make it?! Hang on, Luke! Don’t go into the light!” He ruffles his son’s curly hair. “Yeah, it’s ready. Go sit down at the table.”
Luke giggles as he takes his seat, and Ryan trails behind him. 
“How was school?” you ask them, putting waffles on plates and setting them at their places. “Learn anything new?”
Luke nods enthusiastically. “My friend Todd bounced a hot dog on the ground at lunch, and it almost touched the ceiling!”
Eddie shrugs. “I guess that’s science, kind of? What about you, Ry? Conduct any food experiments?”
“No, but we started learning about fractions today,” Ryan says, taking a bite of his dinner. “It was tricky at first, but then I got it.”
“That’s my boy!” Eddie high-fives him. “Munsons don’t give up when things get tough.”
“Is that why you took senior year three times?” you tease him, and his jaw drops in mock offense. 
“Hey, Daddy?” Luke interrupts, grabbing the syrup bottle and positioning it over the waffle and drenching it in the sticky-sweet sauce. “Can we do presents now?”
“When dinner’s over,” Eddie reminds him, taking the bottle before Luke can empty it. “And, no, that’s not permission to shove the entire waffle in your mouth at once.”
“Fine,” he concedes, turning his attention to you. “So, who’s your favorite: me or Ryan?”
You shake your head, cutting your waffle into neat little squares. “I can’t answer that. I love you both equally.” You glance at your boyfriend for confirmation, but of course, he’s no help. 
“That means you must fight for her love and affection!” he roars, deepening his voice to a raspy growl. “Men, grab your armor!”
You roll your eyes at his antics, but there’s a smile on your face the whole time. 
Unsurprisingly, Luke is the first one finished with his food. He sits in his chair, fingers beating a rapid rhythm against the tabletop. The patience of a five-year-old can only go so far, though. Eddie tries to hold in a chuckle because it looks like his youngest is near wetting himself. 
“Okay,” Eddie caves with a sigh. “Get your presents ready.” 
“Yes!” Luke cheers as he grabs his gift and the homemade card made of red construction paper. Eddie stands and clears away the plates while both boys take a seat on either side of you with their respective presents. “Mine first!” Luke slides his towards you. 
First, you pick up the card and grin at the flower smiling back at you on the cover. On the inside, Luke has written in his adorable boyish handwriting: “Happy Mother’s Day! I 🖤 you! Love, Luke.” You ruffle Luke’s curls and press a kiss to his forehead. 
“Here’s the gift I made.” Luke points at it. Picking it up, you see it’s a Shrinky Dink that Luke has written his name on and someone—presumably the teacher, put it on a key ring. 
“This is perfect!” you exclaim as you look over your new keychain. “I use my keys every time I drive or have to get into my house, so I’ll always see your name and think of you.”
Luke grins and throws his arms around your neck. You chuckle and maneuver him into your lap so he’s not hugging you from an uncomfortable angle. 
“Thank you, Luke.”
“Now me!” Ryan hands you his card, designed on purple construction paper. It says: “I am happy that your with Daddy now because that means I see you more and I like seeing you. Happy Mother’s Day! I love you! Ryan.”
“That is very sweet, Ryan.” 
“Thanks! This is what I made you,” he says. A heavy lump of what you can only assume is clay is placed in your hands. Tilting it to inspect the blue ceramic piece, you realize it’s the shape of a hand. Ryan’s hand, to be more specific. His handprint has been molded into a small ceramic dish. “It’s for jewelry! To hold it.”
“Oh, that’s perfect! I’m going to put it right next to my bed for when I take my jewelry off at night.”
“It’s like I’ll be holding it,” Ryan says with a giggle. 
“I know it’s in safe hands then,” you say, reaching over to boop his nose. “Thank you both for the thoughtful cards and gifts. I’m very lucky and grateful for you two.”
“Ahem,” Eddie cuts in with a dramatic throat clear. “No love for me? I’ll have you know that I’m the only one here who knows how to use the waffle iron, thank you very much.”
“You’re right,” you sigh, but when he leans in for a kiss, you just boop his nose as well. “Here, let me get the dishes.” You stand up to start towards the sink, but he playfully tugs you back down.
“Not a chance,” he says with a wink. “The Munson men are on it! Boys, I’ll need all hands on deck.”
Luke and Ryan begrudgingly follow their dad, dragging their feet as they walk to where Eddie’s flicking on the faucet and rinsing the dirty dishes. “Can we at least listen to music?” Luke grumbles, grabbing the sponge.
“Can you ask that without whining?” Eddie nudges him, but his tone is serious. “Try again.”
Luke plasters a giant fake smile on his face. “Can we please listen to music?” he asks.
“Of course, my wonderful, perfect second-born.” Eddie goads, clicking the dial to his usual rock station. 
And when she knows what
She wants from her time
Your head perks up and your eyes widen at the familiar Billy Joel song. Eddie throws you a grin over his shoulder before stepping back from the sink and wiping his hands off on a towel.
“Our song, baby,” he says, holding out his hand as he approaches where you’re sitting. “Boys, take over. Ryan wash, Luke dry.”
“I thought this was a Munson man chore,” Luke grumbles, which Ryan nudges his brother’s shoulder for.
“Shut up,” Ryan hisses under his breath.
Luke huffs and snatches the towel up from where Eddie tossed it on the counter. “What does that mean?” he asks his older brother. “That it’s ‘their song.’”
Ryan chuckles as he grabs a plate and holds it under the water. He looks over at the two of you and watches as Eddie practically yanks you out of the dining chair until your chest is pressed up against his. 
“It’s the song they smoochy-smooch to,” Ryan says.
Luke spins around to look at the pair of you as well, making kissy noises as he awaits a plate to dry.
“I’d start washing those dishes unless you want to see us start smoochy-smooching,” Eddie calls, never taking his eyes off of you. You giggle and wrap your arms around his neck, hugging him even closer.
“Maybe I wanna smooch now,” you say, batting your eyelashes at him. Eddie doesn’t hesitate to fill your request. He leans in and just as his lips are about to brush up against yours, there’s a jarring knock on the front door. 
“I’ll get it!” Luke shouts, taking any opportunity he can to get away from the dishes.
“Good,” Eddie mumbles before stealing a kiss from you anyway. Just as you tilt your head up to continue the kiss, an irritating ahem sounds from behind you. 
Turning your head, you have to fight to keep the sneer off your face when you see who’s standing there.
“Mom’s here,” Luke calls to Ryan as he jogs back into the kitchen.
“Hello, Brittany,” you say, sidling up next to Eddie. You go to grab his hand in yours and he’s quick to give it a reassuring squeeze. Play nice for the sake of the boys, you tell yourself. Those seem to be the only semi-pleasant words that ever go through your head when she’s around. 
“Hi,” Brittany says, the words somehow sounding like a scoff. 
“Boys,” Eddie says, forgoing greeting his ex-wife altogether. “Go get your backpacks and the gifts you bought for Mom.”
The mention of gifts has a slight smirk appearing on the bitchy blonde’s face, and you can hardly say you’re surprised. As materialistic as she is, she’s probably more interested in seeing what she’s getting than seeing her own children. Eddie had already told you what the boys had picked out at the store and all you could hope was that Brittany was able to fake enough enthusiasm so as not to hurt the boys. 
Luke emerges from his room first. He puts his bag down on the table and picks up the keychain and jewelry holder that you had gotten from them. “Mom, look what we made!”
“Good job. Thank you.” She couldn’t sound less excited if she tried. But you don’t care because you know Luke is about to correct her.
“Oh. No, your gift is in my backpack. These aren’t for you.”
Brittany’s face hardens into steel, the forced smile looking more like a disfigured grimace than anything. Come on, look up at me, you think to yourself with a gleeful smile on your lips. Eddie tugs on your hand and you glance over to see him wearing a matching grin of satisfaction. 
Ryan comes in as Luke puts your gifts back on the table, and Brittany’s head finally lifts. You swear you can literally see her face turning red as she locks eyes with you. You raise an eyebrow slightly, as if saying, yeah, that’s right. Those are for me.
“Whatever,” she spits, ushering the boys out of the apartment. “Pick them up Tuesday night. Don’t be late.” 
Before she can slam the door behind her, Ryan and Luke call out to you, “Happy Mother’s Day!” You can see her entire body clench with anger.
As soon as she’s gone, Eddie lets out a huge exhale.
“You okay?” you ask, pressing your chest against his and resuming your position. You can feel his heart beating, and it’s immediately soothing.
Eddie nods slowly. “Yeah, she doesn’t really bother me anymore. ‘S just…” he pauses, searching for the right words, “...I hate not being with them, y’know? And I hate having to send them to their mom’s when they’re happier here. But what am I gonna do, tell her that she can’t have them on Mother’s Day?”
“You’re doing the right thing,” you murmur, rubbing his bicep comfortingly. “And once custody is figured out, I know you’ll be able to see them more. Those boys absolutely adore you.”
He tilts your chin upwards and kisses you, softly and gently. “They adore you, too,” he says with a small chuckle. “I had to convince them to buy stuff for Brittany and not you.”
Your jaw drops, making him laugh harder. “No way. You’re kidding, right?”
“‘M dead serious,” Eddie promises, making an X over his heart. “And speaking of gifts…I have one for you, and it’s in the bedroom.” He waggles his eyebrows, and you hook your finger into his belt loop as he leads the way.
You lay down on the bed as he climbs on top of you, trailing kisses down your body. “This–kiss–is for–kiss–being the absolute–kiss–fuckin’--kiss–best.” He sits up suddenly, taking in the gorgeous view before him. “I love you so damn much.”
“I love you, too,” you whisper against the soft plush of his lips.
“You know,” Eddie mumbles against your mouth, “I was thinking.”
“Uh oh,” you tease. In retaliation, Eddie lightly nips at your collarbone, making you giggle.
“Mhm. About your ass.” He gives it a little squeeze as you laugh harder. “Well, that, and how goddamn gorgeous you’d look having my baby.”
“You mean ‘our’ baby?” you ask, arching an eyebrow. 
“Of course,” Eddie says. He starts to move down your body with kisses again. “Round belly making a home for them.” He pushes your shirt up to the underwire of your bra and places soft kisses around your belly button. 
“Not to mention my bigger boobs.”
“Oh don’t worry, I hadn’t forgot about those,” Eddie says, looking up at you with a smirk. “Shit, I can picture it so well.” His fingers fumble with the button on your jeans as his lips press gently against your skin. “But before that all happens, there’s something I’ve gotta do.”
“And what’s that?” you ask, your eyes never leaving his hands as you watch them work.
Eddie presses one last kiss just above the waistline of your jeans before looking up at you through his enviably long eyelashes. “Fuck a baby into you.”
A whimper leaves your lips, both at his words and at the urgency in which Eddie is pulling your pants off with. Your panties aren’t far behind, but you reach up and tug on his shirt before he has time to undress you any further. Your hands begin to work on his belt, and Eddie lays one hand on your shoulder to keep himself balanced, and the other hand trails along your jaw. Slowly, he swipes his thumb over your bottom lip.
“You want me to make you a mommy, sweetheart? Want to spend next Mother’s Day with the little baby we made?” 
“Uh-huh,” you nod breathlessly, moaning when two of his thick fingers slide into your pussy. “M-Making me regret taking my pill this morning.”
Eddie laughs, pumping his fingers in and out of you as he speaks. “S’okay, babe. We can just practice tonight, hm?”
You nod, unable to speak as you watch Eddie lower his head and attach his lips to your clit. With a breathy whine, your head drops back on the pillow as he gives a harsh suck to the sensitive nub.
“Fuck,” Eddie says once he finally releases it. “Never get used to how good your pussy tastes.” He gives you no time to respond before he dips down and licks at your leaking hole. One of your hands fists the sheets, while the other reaches down and grabs onto your boyfriend’s curls. “Feel good?” Eddie mumbles against your folds.
“So good, Eddie,” you moan. “Fucking love your mouth. B-But I want your cock.” 
“All you had to do was ask, my love.” He looks back down at your pussy and gives it a quick kiss. “I’ll be back for you later.”
You don’t have time to process the fact that he’s talking to your genitals before he’s pushing inside of you with a delicious stretch. “Fuuuuuck, Eddie,” you whine, adjusting to the fullness. “Feels s’good. Always feels s’good.” Your words slur together, already drunk on his cock. 
“Only the best for this tight, perfect pussy,” he growls. He brings his thumb back to your clit, making deliberate circles. “Can’t wait to fill you up with my cum. Gonna fuck it into you s’deep. Gonna knock up my princess, make her a mommy, holy shit!” He cries out when you move his hand from your swollen bud up to your neck, placing it around your throat. “Y’want me to choke you, baby?”
“Yes, please,” you manage, body trembling with pleasure as you feel the pressure from his grip. He’s rocking into you at an immeasurable pace, the ridge where the tip meets the shaft hitting all the right angles. “Keep g-going. ‘M gonna cum.”
Eddie throws his head back. “Good girl, good fucking girl. Cum on my cock, fuck, fuckin’ cream it. Make a mess on me, my good girl.”
One hand still gripping the green sheets below you, the other wraps around Eddie’s arm where he braces himself up against the mattress. Little moans and whimpers are slipping past your lips as Eddie brings you up to the brink. 
“I’m—fuck—I’m coming,” you say, hand tightening around Eddie’s arm as your pussy tightens around his cock. You hit your peak just as he does, an expression of ecstasy on his face. 
“Take it, fuckin’ take it, take all my cum. Want it dripping out of you.” You feel the hot, thick ropes coat your walls as he finishes inside you, leaving you both panting and speechless. 
The two of you lie there with each other for a few moments, letting your bodies relax and come down from their highs. Begrudgingly, Eddie pulls out and you both hiss at the loss. He’s quick to grab a warm washcloth from the bathroom and clean the both of you off. As soon as he tosses it in the hamper, he’s climbing back into bed and pulling you up against him beneath the covers. You eagerly snuggle up against him and rest your head in the crook of his neck.
“So, how was that for a Mother’s Day present?” Eddie asks, his fingers gently tracing patterns on the bare skin of your back. 
“Perfect,” you respond with a lazy smile. “You Munson men spoil me.” 
“Cause we love you so damn much,” Eddie says as he presses a kiss into your hair. When you stay silent, Eddie’s brow furrows in confusion. When he feels your body start to tremble in his hold, he pulls back to look at you. “Baby, what’s wrong?”
Shaking your head, you wipe the fallen tears from your cheeks. “Nothing’s wrong. I just…I wasn’t expecting any of this.”
“Is it too much?” Eddie asks, worry creeping into his voice. “Because I can talk to the—” 
“No,” you say kindly but firmly. “It’s just overwhelming. The food, the presents. Them wishing me a h-happy Mother’s Day. Eddie, I…” You’re unable to keep the tears from falling even as a joyful smile spreads across your lips. “I’ve never felt so loved before.” 
Eddie gazes at you with an adoring expression on his face. He gently tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear and presses a kiss to your forehead. 
“Well, get used to it, baby,” Eddie says. “Because you have the hearts of all three Munson men and we’re all suckers for showing affection.”
Shifting yourself so your head rests next to Eddie’s on his pillow, you still can’t wipe the smile off your face. 
“They think of me as a mother figure.”
“Sweetheart, you’ve been there for them when their own mother hasn’t. Many, many times. Of course that’s how they see you. You’re everything a good mom should be, and they see that. They needed that in their lives. And then you come along; perfect, wonderful you. Who we all were missing, we just didn’t know it yet. But now that we have you, you’re stuck with us.”
You giggle as Eddie nuzzles his nose against yours. “I needed you guys, too. I always will.”
“I love you, my beautiful girl.”
“I love you, my handsome man.”
“Happy Mother’s Day, baby.”
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kingkatsuki · 2 years
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okay but what if we talked about the stepdad! thoughts…
katsuki knows that he shouldn’t touch you, that you’re off limits, that it’s taboo, but how could he keep his hands to himself when you look like that? it’s all he could do to not slip his cock out and into your cute pussy when you come and sit right in his lap, practicing restraint he’s never had to before.
his guilt can be tamed when all you do about it is dry hump each other, getting off through your clothes, leaving him a little wet stain on his bulge and leaving you a bit weak in the knees.
the problem is, he doesn’t think he’ll be able to leave you alone after this.
Warnings: 18+, pseudo-incest, step-dad!Bakugou, “just the tip”, dry humping.
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Bakugou glanced down between your bodies to see the darkened patch against his grey sweats, a sign of just how needy and desperate you are for him. His tongue slips out to wet his lips as he felt your hand grab for his crotch again, palming his growing bulge as he swiftly captured your wrist in a large palm.
He knew it was wrong, if anyone found out about his relationship with his pretty step-daughter this could be career damaging. But you made it difficult to think straight when you’d walk around in one of his old shirts and a pair of pretty panties, sitting on his lap to watch a movie when he was home from work. Deliberately showering with the door open and he was certain you didn’t even have a bedroom door for the amount you’d leave it open.
You were testing every single inch of his resolve right now, he was executing such levels of restraint he should be named a saint. But this was surely better than some spotty boy your age touching you, tainting you. They didn’t deserve you, the douchebags you’d bring home would never be good enough for his little girl. You deserved someone to treat you like the princess that you are, someone that’ll make you feel good.
“Daddy,” Shit, there you went again saying it like that. His cock throbbing in response as you bit down on your bottom lip, staring up at him through pretty lashes as you wrapped your legs around his hips. Your thick thighs caging him in as you pulled him closer, his hand dropping your wrist in favour of clutching the counter on either side of your hips. You clenched your thighs to make sure he couldn’t move away, even if he had wanted to. More and more of his resolve was slowly beginning to crumble as you placed gentle kisses against his jaw, his rough stubble tickling you as you left lines of pink shiny gloss in your wake.
“Please, daddy.” You knew exactly what you were doing, you little mix. You had the same sultry voice you used every time you wanted something from him, and he always gave it to you— whatever it was, “Just the tip.”
“Shit,” Bakugou sucked in a breath as his pelvis bucked into you erratically, unable to control his hips as you felt his bulge press against your wet heat, “We both know that’s not true, my greedy girl.”
“No please, I promise.” You continued, the desperate whine in your voice had his cock throbbing as he imagined how tight, wet and slick your pretty pussy would feel, “Wanna cum so bad.”
“Oh, Daddy’ll make you cum, princess.” Bakugou cooed, rutting his hips against your crotch as you gasped in response. Arms weaving around his broad shoulders for leverage as you began a sloppy pace, selfishly seeking your own pleasure as you focused your movements against your puffy clit.
“Look at these,” Bakugou growled, his finger slipping between the tiny piece of fabric against your crotch, “Fuckin’ filthy.”
You mewled at his words, Bakugou’s thumbs slipping into the hem of his sweats just enough to free his swollen cock as you instantly reached for it.
“Uh-uh. What did I say?” He clicked his tongue as you gave him a childish pout that broke into a gasp as he slapped the heavy weight of it against your slit, “Ya never listen.”
Bakugou slipped his thick cock between the crotch of your panties, pressing his length between your messy folds as he began a languid pace, rubbing the length of his cock through your slick as you met his movements. Rolling your hips to give your clit the stimulation it craved as your nails dug into his broad shoulders.
“Daddy’ll make ya cum, but you gotta promise to be good, okay?”
“Okay,” You parroted, nodding before he’d even finished talking.
Bakugou continued rutting his hips against you, pulling more pretty noises from between your lips as he pressed sloppy kisses against your neck. But of course this wasn’t enough for you, you were too fucking greedy as he felt your hand sneak between your bodies and press against his leaking head, pushing it lower as it caught against your tight hole. Already feeling the tight stretch of you as he hovered on the edge of resolve, one tiny rut of his hips and he’d be sheathed inside you. A fantasy he’d spent many nights fisting his cock to as he imagined what it would be like to bury himself deep inside your pretty little pussy.
But you weren’t going to give him the choice, your thighs tugging him closer as you felt him begin to stretch you out as he pulled back to watch his cock disappear inside you.
You were going to be the death of him.
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aperrywilliams · 1 year
Text
Pandora's Box II (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)
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(Not my gif. Credits to the creator!)
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Author Masterlist / Author Taglist / Part I
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Summary: Reader doesn't know what to think after the kiss between Spencer and Cat. Insecurities about their marriage surface in both Reader and Spencer. How severe will the consequences of what Cat did be?
Word Count: 4.1k
Warnings: Most of Spencer's traumas are only mentioned (Hankel, Dilaudid, Diana's illness, etc.). Angst and a lot of inner thoughts (I mean it: a lot). But not despair, my friends, happy ending.
A/N: Hello! Here is part two of Pandora's Box. Thanks a lot for all your comments, likes, and reblogs on part I.
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Spencer's POV
Cat did it again. No. Scratch that. I did it again.
I'm still seeing her eyes full of betrayal. God, how did I let this happen? How I was not able to think of something else to do. I'm so stupid!
I thought about running after her to stop her and convince her to go home with me. But I know (Y/N), and it would have been worse to insist when it was clear that she was shocked and hurt.
That leads me to now be in our shared bed, staring at the ceiling as I sink into my own mortification. Emily and JJ called me several times during the night, but I didn't feel like talking to anyone. I just texted them that (Y/N) was fine, but I screwed it up, and she hated me now. I don't know why I thought that would stop the calls. It was the opposite, but I decided to ignore my phone from there. I knew that (Y/N) would not call or text me either. Besides her getting rid of her cell phone, I was the last person she wanted to talk to.
How do I fix this?
The more I thought about it, the more complicated it became. We were not only talking about me kissing Cat Adams. It was more than that. And even if (Y/N) didn't go further saying how bad she was feeling, she slipped a hint. And it hurt. It hurt to know I was hurting her. Maybe Cat was right. I was not made to have a normal life and be loved like that. Perhaps I didn't deserve her.
Spencer, stop it! Don't fall into Cat's game. She wanted this to happen. She wanted to ruin your marriage, I repeated myself.
The funny thing is maybe I ruined it first.
Tossing and turning, I couldn't find a way to fall asleep. That brought me to the months I spent in jail when I barely slept an hour in a row. Endless nights were I missed (Y/N) 's body next to me. Nights where I swore to myself that if I made it out of there, I wouldn't waste another minute without making her my wife. So I did it. The very day I was released from Milburn, I got down on one knee and proposed to her. No ring involved, just a promise to spend the rest of my life with her, loving her and raising a family.
Two years since that, and now I think about the things I promised and what I have fulfilled. I feel terrible realizing that I have failed her.
Tiredness got me at some point, but my brain didn't stop working. I dream about (Y/N). It was a sweet dream that turned into a nightmare when she told me it was over. That ours was over.
I woke up sweating and screaming. 
I couldn't let that happen. I wouldn't let my incompetence makes me lose the best thing that had happened to me in life.
After showering and getting dressed early in the morning, I went to our habitual coffee shop and bought her favorite coffee and donut. I stopped by her dad's and left a bag with the treats and a note. A tiny gesture compared to the mess I had made, but I needed to tell her I was there even if she didn't want to see me.
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Reader's POV
I couldn't sleep. I just couldn't.
After explaining the previous day's chaos to my dad - partially though, because I didn't want to give in to the embarrassing details - he let me stay in my old bedroom.
Every time I closed my eyes, I could see Spencer kissing that psycho over and over again.
I could see how his hands held her head, his eyes closed, lost in the sensation. Their lips moving in unison. His body pressed against hers.
Has he ever kissed me like that? Yes. He has. That is precisely the way I liked to be kissed.
When we started dating, Spencer was so shy at first, but he freed all the passion within him over time. I always wished to be the only one to see and feel him like that. And I really thought I would be the only one with that privilege. It seems I was wrong.
Why does it hurt so much? I mean, Spencer wouldn't do that to me, much less with that crazy bitch, right? I could bet he did not even want to do it.
Maybe it's the fact that there's a fucking Jiminy Cricket in my ear telling me things between Spencer and I aren't going well, and this shit is another proof that there will always be something interfering between us.
It terrifies me to think this could lead to the end of us, but I can't deny the idea has been on my mind for a while. It's true that we have never talked about it. It's true I have tried to deny that Spencer's absence affects me more than I let on. Has he noticed anyway? I'm afraid to know.
The next morning when I got to the kitchen, I saw my dad making coffee. Over the counter was a paper bag with my name written on it. It's Spencer's. I would recognize that handwriting anywhere.
"You don't have to open it," my dad told me, sensing the internal debate in my head. "I just brought it inside so you can decide if you want to do it or not."
It wasn't the only decision I needed to make, though.
Curiosity got the best of me. Inside the bag was my favorite coffee and donut. Of course Spencer knew it. Tucked in the coffee cup holder was a note.
'My love. Don't think this is me hoping that with just a coffee and a donut, you would forgive me. It is just a way to tell you I'm thinking of you. We have so much to talk about, but I won't push you to do it until you're ready. Please, only remember that I'm here, and I love you. Always yours, SR.'
Tears clouded my vision. I love him. That's not in discussion. But to be with someone is more than to feel love. It's about giving and receiving. It's about comprehending and being comprehended. It's partnership and complicity, things that have been away from us for a while. I will not blame Spencer for that because I have much to do with it. I should have said something. Is it too late now?
I took the lid off and sipped the coffee. I was thinking of him too.
-
Spencer's POV
Three days. The longest days of my life. Am I overstating? I don't think so. Because even if we had been apart for longer than three days, these circumstances made it worse.
The anxiety was killing me. Those days I went to work by inertia, unable to concentrate or be useful in any way. It was hard not to go over the last few months in my head. The signs, the unsaid things. The looks of disappointment when at any moment, the phone rang, and I had to leave.
Prentiss caught me deep in thought that afternoon.
"You okay?"
"Uh - yeah. I just got distracted. Sorry," I apologized. Emily shook her head and sat beside me.
"We both know it is more than that. Do you want to talk about it?"
I sighed, leaning back in the chair. I had the question on the tip of my tongue.
"Do you think fifteen years is a long time?"
Emily raised an eyebrow, trying to decipher the question's implication, but I knew she understood why I was asking.
"Well, I guess it depends on what you compare to," she ventured with a reassuring smile.
"I mean, doing this job. I had spent my whole adult life in the BAU. And don't get me wrong, I love my job-" I trailed off.
"But?"
"I love (Y/N) too, and I'm not good enough conciliating this job with my marriage. I can't make it work as JJ does," I confessed.
"If it is the case, having some time off should work to return some balance, but something tells me it's not the biggest problem," Emily asserted. Of course she did. She knew me better: it was more than the lack of time.
I chuckled bitterly.
"We have been only married for two years, and I feel I have failed her too much already. I mean, I was the one who said I needed to slow down after everything that had happened in Milburn. (Y/N) has been by my side in so many hard times. She was the first one I told about my addiction. She was there after the Anthrax episode. She took care of me when I got shot in Texas. I ran to her when they told me about my mom's Alzheimer's. Then jail happened. What else would she have to put up with? JJ's confession and being kidnapped by a cult. And now Cat again? Fuck, she saw me kissing her! The same woman who framed me for murder. How twisted is it?"
"She loves you too much," Emily pointed, trying to get me out of my rabbit hole.
"And I love her, but I always find a way to show otherwise, uh?" I mocked myself. I really felt like I was screwing up over and over.
"Spencer, none of those things have been your fault."
And maybe Prentiss was right. That didn't exempt me from my blindness, though.
"But it's been enough to have done something about it. Emily, I couldn't bear to lose her."
I could feel the lump forming in my throat.
"Spencer, she knows you love her. She married you for who you are. You just told me she has been with you in the toughest moments. You won't lose her."
How can she be so sure? I knew things never last long. I have seen people leaving me before.
"You know? It breaks my heart when I have to leave every time. (Y/N) always says she understands my job and never has demanded something from me. Still, I know she worries as hell every time I'm in the field, and I know there have been moments when she needed me, and I couldn't be there for her. I'm her husband! I promised to be there for her! Having more time could help, yeah, but I'm tired of this rhythm. I'm tired of being on the tightrope. I'm tired of the Tobias Hankels, the Cat Adams, the Mr. Scratchs-"
I had to stop my rant because I got out of breath.
"Well, if this is the matter, I think fifteen years is a long time then," Emily told me with a knowing look, patting my shoulder.
As a cue, my phone got a text: 'Are you in town? Can we talk?'
-
Reader's POV
Not two minutes had passed since I sent the text, and Spencer had answered, asking me when and where we would meet.
I figured it would be a complicated conversation, so I suggested it be in our apartment after work that day.
It's not like I wanted to torture Spencer for three days before to talk to him, but the events with Cat triggered a series of thoughts I didn't want to admit before. And the truth is, I wasn't sure how to deal with this. In fact, standing in front of the door and about to open it, I'm still not entirely sure what to say, just sure we can't keep putting this conversation off.
"Hi," Spencer said when he saw me. He was still in his work attire; only the tie was missing.
I returned a tight-lipped smile, stepping into the apartment.
I turned after closing the door, and Spencer just stood there, fidgeting with his hands. He was nervous, and so did I.
"Coffee?" He offered. I shook my head.
"No, thank you."
"O-okay," he mumbled, moving to the living room and gesturing to the couch for us to sit on.
Now we were both seated, maintaining a safer distance between us. Someone needed to break the silence. Spencer cleared his throat before speaking.
"About the kiss, (Y/N), I'm so sorry-" I cut him off.
"Spencer, not that yet. You need to start telling me what happened. It still confuses me how we ended in your old apartment with Cat Adams there."
Spencer nodded and recalled the events of that day: since the moment Penelope called him when we were at the coffee shop to him and Cat at the threshold, kissing.
After hearing the whole story, I couldn't understand how someone could set up something so elaborate to annoy someone else. Well, I don't know why I should be surprised; we were talking about Cat Adams, after all.
"Okay. So you thought a family and I were in danger. And she demanded a kiss. And you thought that would help," I filled. Spencer sighed, looking at his hands on his lap.
"Honestly? I didn't think anything. I felt trapped and knew I had no leverage on her. The opposite, actually. She was in control. I let her have me at her mercy," he confessed.
Spencer at Cat's mercy. Well, it wasn't the first time.
"You didn't seem troubled kissing her," I said bitterly. "I know it sounds childish, but you haven't kissed me like that in what? Months? It felt like I was nothing in your life, Spencer. It was like I didn't even exist and was watching a movie."
My voice cracked a bit while saying those words. Even imagining that I might not exist to Spencer made my stomach churn. It was worse to think I had already been losing him for a while or that perhaps he was never mine.
"(Y/N), that's not true. I -" Spencer tried to rebut quickly. I could feel the guilt in him.
"Spencer, it's okay. I can understand you were under pressure. But it was the way I felt. What would you think if your wife made out with the person who made her life a living hell for a long time?" It was a rhetorical question, though, because I would never do that to him.
"I know. And you might not believe me, but I was thinking of you. You were in my mind at that moment. Cat told me to do it as if she were you," he acknowledged. That didn't make me feel better. I let him know that.
"And you complied. That's the thing, Spencer. It's not the kiss itself; it's the fact you did what she told you. Again."
Spencer averted his gaze from me. He was embarrassed, and I hated being responsible for doing that, but he needed to know. I was done keeping things to myself.
"That makes me realize you're still caught up in her twisted game. Cat will never stop tormenting you, and I don't know what else I can do to help you. And it hurts me because I feel I'm not enough, Spencer. I'm not enough to really be by your side and be who you need."
Treacherous tears began to run down my cheeks. That was the admission I didn't want to reveal. After all these years, I thought, at some point, I could be in tune with Spencer's life. That's why I never said anything. I yet harbored the hope of living up to his expectations all this time.
"Don't say that! It's not true!" He argued, scooting closer to me on the couch, no longer afraid of proximity. "You are everything and more that I have ever needed and wanted. God. I love you, (Y/N). If anything, it's me who feels not worthy of your love. And I'm sorry, you are the most important person in my life, and I haven't shown you that."
"Then why do I feel then we are falling apart, Spencer? It's me imagining things?"
Spencer shook his head, a tentative hand reaching mine. I doubted for a second, but I welcomed his touch.
"It's my fault you're feeling this way. Believe me; you didn't do anything wrong."
His fingers stroking my hand resembled the way his touch always comforted me. In other circumstances, I would have believed nothing had changed between us.
"Are you sure? It's like we're becoming a couple of strangers. And I cannot understand if something about me bothers you or if I am simply indifferent to you. You don't trust me the way you used to."
I retracted my hand to protect myself from the pain it would surely follow when Spencer acknowledged I wasn't the person he wanted anymore.
"I know I have been pushing you away, but it's not because I didn't trust you. It's just I have been putting so many of my problems over your shoulders that I didn't want to overwhelm you. I'm sorry for not being honest with you," Spencer said, maintaining eye contact as if he wanted to imprint his apology on me. My lips quivered, and I was doing everything to not cry.
"Spencer, I'm your wife. It is supposed we lean into each other!" I complained. How was it possible he still did not understand he is not a damaged good and deserves understanding and support.
"And you always have been there for me. But what has happened the times that you have needed me? I am away most of the time, which is unfair to you. I'm your husband, and I should have been here."
His voice broke at the end. And it hurt me because that has happened more than once, but I decided not to say anything before.
"Spencer, I knew your job when we married," I reminded him. It was the truth. I knew what I had signed for. Spencer shook his head nevertheless, blinking back tears.
"That doesn't mean I don't do anything about it. I just let it pass. And it was wrong. You were uncomfortable enough to tell me you were worried or disappointed because of my job." 
I looked away as I listened to Spencer describe my behavior over the past few months. It was hard to admit that I feared what it would mean to us if we discussed it. It seemed childish, perhaps, but like a scared child, I didn't want to feel vulnerable, saying it affected me.
"But it's what you do. It's your life. You chose to be a profiler, and you save people every day."
That was far more important, wasn't it?
"But I chose you too. And you are part of my life too." Now he had hunched before me, gently placing his hands on my knees. "Do you remember what I told you when I proposed?" He asked, smiling fondly.
Of course I remembered. After living apart for three months because Spencer was in jail, the moment of our reunion was one of the most emotional things I have experienced.
"Besides telling me you loved and wanted to marry me?" I replied - a blush creeping my face at the memory.
"Yeah, that too. I told you I wanted everything with you. I told you I didn't want to spend another minute without you. You make me whole and feel alive (Y/N). That's far more important than catching monsters and consuming my life for them."
Grabbing one of my hands, he brought it to his lips, planting a loving kiss. His gaze never left mine, and I could feel like my heart skipped a bit.
"What do you mean?" I asked in a whisper. He returned a smile, tucking a hair strand behind my ear.
"That I'm done. Fifteen years is more than enough, and if this job continues cracking the good things in my life, I don't want it."
I wondered if I was listening wrong or if my mind was playing tricks on me. I needed clarification.
"What? Are you saying-" Spencer cut me off, nodding his head.
"There are so many things we dreamed of doing together. Do you recall our plan to stay a whole winter in a cabin in the woods? Or the trip to Greece? The idea of moving to the suburbs?"
"Do you still remember all that?" I asked in disbelief. That seemed a lifetime ago. We had so many plans and ideas, but I thought this would only form part of an unfulfilled desire, of our youthful and innocent desire to achieve something different from what we were used to. I often felt those plans were a way of escaping from our daily life full of pain, ghosts, and fears.
"Of course I do! And it's not because I have an eidetic memory. If I didn't, I would remember it anyway because I still want those things. With you."
Stroking my cheek with his palm, Spencer looked at me intensely as he didn't want to miss any of my microexpressions. I felt bare before him, but it didn't feel odd or wrong. If anything, it felt like he was seeing into my heart and soul. I have missed that.
"Spencer, you don't have to. You are a profiler, and you save lives. Your life has been the BAU," I reminded him. I didn't want him to be doing this just because we were in a rough patch and for it to be something he would regret for the rest of his life.
"It has been, but I don't want it to continue to be. It's a job (Y/N). One that has given me a lot of satisfaction but also a lot of pain and has consumed me. I want that to change. I want us to be able to make plans and stick to them. I want that family we talk about so much. Sure, if it's something you still want," he pointed out carefully. My eyes widened.
"You say, kids?" Spencer nodded eagerly.
"Yes. Kids. Little you's and me's running around in our new house. Whom I want to rock to make them sleep, who I want to teach them things, take them to the park, and play with them," Spencer enthusiastically described. It had been a long time since I had seen him that way. I couldn't stop my lips from forming a smile. "Do you still want that?" His excitement changed to the expectation to know my answer.
"Yes, I do," I acknowledged, my eyes filling with tears at the thought that this could be a reality one day. Spencer beamed.
"Then let's have the rest of our lives like we want them to be," he offered. It was like we were saying our vows, like the day we married.
"Are you sure? Spencer, I don't want you to feel like you have-" Before I could say anything else, Spencer gently placed a finger over my lips.
"Hey. It's been a long time since I was so sure about anything. Baby, I love you. I want us, always. Will you accept this fool man, who is madly in love with you, as your husband again?"
His eyes were full of hope, illuminated by the glow of the lighted lamp in the living room. The man hunched before me was the love of my life. The man I chose to spend the rest of my days with. I could feel the sincerity in his gaze, the transparency of the shared longing that made me fall for him years ago.
"I do," I whispered, leaning down and tenderly cupping his cheeks. "May I kiss the husband?" Spencer chuckled, nodding and leaning forward until our lips met in a passionate kiss. Spencer's hands moved up to hold the back of my head as my arms flew to the back of his neck - our lips molding like they were meant to be. The time stopped, and nothing else mattered. I was there with him, and he was there with me.
That kiss sealed our complicity and love's declaration. A kiss that Cat Adams would never have the privilege of experiencing despite the many Pandora's boxes she tried to open.
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Spencer Reid’s Taglist (some of them don't work): @dreatine​ @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @tvandfanfic​ @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19  @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @thebloomingeagle @pauline5525mgg @maltamurdock @disaster-in-waiting @pebble-has-a-mirgraine @anamiad00msday @chlochlosworld @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @miaxx03 @leahblackk @missabsey
Pandora's Box Taglist (some of them don't work): @isisjen @marimorena06 @starlightskiss @wittlewowa @ladyofhellhounds @blogs-imagines-fanctionstories @logibearhockey1 @flowersownme @callsignwidow @regulus-black-223048 @l0v3e1i @lovejules888
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scoobydoodean · 7 months
Text
Season 2 Sam spends the first four episodes of season 2 scared that Dean is going off the deep end. He knows his brother is not grieving their father in the way he expects by 2.02. By 2.04 he knows Dean thinks he should be dead. By 2.09, Dean plans to off himself imminently.
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All of this concerns Sam. Sam keeps insisting Dean tell him what's wrong. He keeps insisting Dean is not okay and that Dean needs to open up. He keeps telling Dean he can help. Sam can carry part of the load. Sam cares.
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(2.04, 2.09)
Then he finds out why his brother is depressed and contemplating suicide. John told Dean he had to save Sam—it was all on him—and if Dean couldn't, he's gotta kill Sam.
Of course Sam is gonna have feelings about that. It's a horrible fucked up thing to hear your dad said about you. It's awful and horrible and Sam has every right to be upset and freaked out and he has every right to be mad that Dean couldn't bring himself to repeat what was said for so many weeks.
That said. My guy. Spends the rest of the season. Regurgitating John's words back at Dean. The words that made Dean want to kill himself.
Because Sam knows Dean will not do this. He knows Dean will not kill him. He knows that from the very first episode he finds out. He knows Dean will not kill him with such confidence that he jokes about it in the same episode where he finds out.
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But after 2.10... Sam starts to get scared. He isn't scared of what Dean will do to him. He's scared of what Dean won't do.
He's scared Dean will never be able to bring himself to kill Sam—to do what's necessary. So Sam needs to find a way to make Dean follow through on John's dying wish. So he gets drunk in the next episode—in 2.11. And he plays out Dean's conversation with John from 2.01.
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(2.01, 2.11)
Then he follows it up the next morning, basically saying, "It doesn't matter that I was drunk and grabbing you and wouldn't let go and that you didn't mean it and only promised to placate me (something I clearly know otherwise I wouldn't bring the conversation up again). You made a promise. Are you going to make yourself a liar now? Are you going to lie to me?"
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(2.11)
The problem is, this doesn't work. Dean isn't going to be coerced into a promise, and the ramifications of breaking this "promise" for Dean are so much smaller than the fall out on keeping the "promise" it's not even funny.
Meg tries to make Dean think that Sam's gone off the deep end in 2.14—tries to hold him to the "promise" he made—also tacks on a promise Dean never made to John either on top—trying to guilt him into executing his own brother.
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Sam gets his body back, and at the end of the episode... he pounces.
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(2.14)
"Are you going to be able to do this? It's your job. Dad told you to. You have to. It was an order."
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(2.11)
You're a hunter. It's your job. Sometimes the job is ugly. But it's what you were meant to do.
GORDON This isn't personal. I'm not a killer, Dean. I'm a hunter. And your brother's fair game.
(2.10)
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(2.10)
And Sam... Maybe he is this ruthless himself. Maybe he isn't demanding something of Dean that he wouldn't be willing to do himself (at least not at this point in time).
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(2.17)
Dean doesn't want to do what Sam can. He can't.
2.17 is named "Heart" because it's about werewolves who eat hearts. But it's also about the show's fracturing narrative heart facing his own impending demise... because Dean's heart will rupture in two if he follows through with Sam and John's wishes—that he become Sam's executioner.
The embrace of death at his own hand seems ever sweeter—ever more deserved—ever softer and kinder than dying the way Sam and John are asking him to without even seeing it.
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(2.20)
Death is the light at the end of the tunnel that absolves Dean of Sam and John's expectations. It's the way he makes their family's mistakes right—how he takes his body that's supposed to have given out 12 episodes into season 1 and then again in 2.01 and makes himself the sacrifice he was supposed to be—already was—always has been.
SAM So, what, now I live and you die? DEAN That's the general idea, yeah. SAM Yeah, well, you're a hypocrite, Dean. How did you feel when Dad sold his soul for you? 'Cause I was there. I remember. You were twisted, and broken. And now you go and do the same thing. To me. What you did was selfish. DEAN Yeah, you're right. It was selfish. But I'm okay with that. SAM I'm not. DEAN Tough. After everything I've done for this family, I think I'm entitled. Truth is, I'm tired, Sam. I don't know, it's like there's a, a light at the end of the tunnel. SAM It's hellfire, Dean. DEAN Whatever. You're alive, I feel good – for the first time in a long time.
(3.01)
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vyntilador · 1 year
Text
Let Me Cherish You
The boys catching you talking oh-so affectionately about them🫶
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Genre: Fluff / Romance
Character/s: Marius, Artem, Luke, Vyn
Fandom: Tears of Themis
A/N: me rn screaming into my pillow and getting all giddy writing vyns part LMFOAOAWHSHAHAAHH
(you talking is color red, marius is purple, artem is blue luke is orange n vyn is green btw)
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𝓜𝓪𝓻𝓲𝓾𝓼
You were over at his family home havinf a small chat over tea with his father when he suddenly raised the question; "What did you find in Marius that made you love him?" You pondered the question for a moment, gathering it all and smiling to yourself as you thought more about him. "Well, for starters, I love his eyes. That maybe sounds a bit basic but I love the way he looks at everything as if it's the most priceless thing in the world. He uses everything he sees as an inspiration either as a painter or a businessman. Even if he had this.. 'annoying' laid-back attitude, I admire him for still being able to make me smile and comfort me in dark times." You were unaware of the smile blooming on your face as you kept going. "In all honesty, there's kind of a lot of things I like about him. Maybe some, I haven't found yet or some that are just so amazing that I can't put it to words." Austin von Hagen laughs softly and later then turns his gaze into the doorway where his son stood, frozen and staring fondly at his lover.
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𝓐𝓻𝓽𝓮𝓶
(god he deserves all the wholesome energy in the world so here😭)
You and Artem were stationed in an orphanage for a task in the law firm. The job you were given was connected to a child that resides within the orphanage which led you to your situation right now. You were sat on the floor with a number of children surrounding you as they 'interrogate' you. "Miss, is he your husband?" A little girl speaks up, her big, innocent eyes gazing into yours as if she sees your soul itself. "Uhm, no—" You were taken aback by the child's sudden inquiry that you stuttered slightly. "Mr. Wing is my co-worker. He's not my lover." You smiled sweetly at the child as you explained to her. "But how come you act like a married couple?" What..?—"Yeah! My mommy and daddy act exactly the same!" two kids now spoke and your panic increases. "Missy, if you're not married, then surely you like him, right?" A little boy asks and you sigh internally at the sudden turn of events. "Look! Miss attorney is turning red!" Many of the kids cheered and you sighed once more, not knowing how to deal with them. The children begged you to answer their questions and you were left with no choice. "..Yes, I kinda like him." You responded in a soft and quiet tone, making sure he doesn't hear. "But why do you like him?" a child asks, gaining the other kids attention. "Why do I like him..?" you ponder for a moment then spoke. "Well, he's really kind. Whenever I'm working, he's always looking out for me. And also, I look up to him! He's such a great person overall that I want to be like him. And.." "Look! She's smiling! " A little girl interrupts and the room full of children erupt with cheerful voices. "That's what my dad always does whenever mom comes home from work." The hoard of children discuss amongst themselves once more and you felt helpless until the sweet sound of a voice all too familiar was heard amongst the voices of the children. "Hey now, let miss have some rest. She's been very busy and I want you all to take good care of her, not tire her, okay?" "Okay!" the children agree in unison. Artem smiles to himself as he thinks of the words you described him as. He makes sure to stop by at the flower shop before going to work tomorrow.
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𝓛𝓾𝓴𝓮
A karaoke booth packed with 'adults' screaming singing their hearts out. That was the kind of situation you were currently in with Luke and your old classmates. Luke held the microphone in one hand while his eyes were trained on the tv displaying the lyrics. Your gaze stayed unmoving on him until somebody spoke up from beside you. "So, you still like him?" You whip your head to the direction of the voice to see one of your old best friend along side Luke back then snickering. You stayed silent, not knowing how to answer. More of your friends heard the topic of discussion and crowded around you for an answer. "What'dya like about him?" "If I had to guess it's probably his academic ability." "No! Not only that! Look at his build." "I can't believe you guys only look on the outside. It's his personality!" They all argued about which it was you liked about him but the answer was clear in your heart. "I don't like him just because he has a well built body or he's very intelligent but, I love him because he's always sincere. Ever since we were children, he was always honest with me. He never hesitated to do anything just to cheer me up and I love him for that. Though, I think he's gotten used to basically throwing his own well-being away just to save me and I wanna keep his mind at ease that it's not only him that has to protect the other. I'll protect him too, even if I'm not really capable." The girls that swarmed around you all swooned and squealed in excitement, saying how your love story would be just like a kid's fantasy novel about princesses. A blush bloomed on your face, mimicking the color of red flowers while trying to avoidtheir gazes but what you were unaware of was that Luke was looking straight at you the whole time, falling in love all over again.
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𝓥𝔂𝓷
You were only supposed to bring him lunch when you're suddenly swarmed by his students, all asking you questions as per your sudden appearance within the school. All the female students all talk amongst themselves while the others interrogate you and suddenly, a voice pierces through the noisy atmosphere. "Wait! You're all asking the useless questions! Miss, are you and Professor Richter dating?" The room goes quiet as all the students' attention turns to you. They all move closer to you demanding an answer and you sigh, defeated. "No, we're just..." as you thought of an answer, you suddenly cut yourself off , thinking if you were friends, acquaintances, work partners or...lovers. "... friends?" you finish your answer in an unsure manner. The students scoff and others laugh. "Come on miss, we're psychology students. There's no way in this green earth that Professor Richter looks at you like that and you're only friends!" students all agree and nod as they talk loudly once more. "Well, let's just say you're just crushing on him, what do you like about Professor Richter?" A rosy tint slowly emerges to your cheeks as seconds pass while you thought deeply about it. "Well— uhm.." you sigh and just decided to speak your thoughts. "He's very kind and caring. The moment I saw him, I already felt comfortable around him, with that soft expression he has. He's good both inside and outside. And uhm, please don't tell him but, I was already captivated by him on our first meeting. I mean— if you'd all just seen how cute and...attractive..? he was! I swear, I could've melted right then and ther—" the sudden sound of a low chuckle in the tone and voice you're all too familiar with interrupts your words as you look up and see all the students' eyes wide while some cover their mouths and you slump knowing that he's right behind you. "My rose, can we speak privately for a moment?" his voice was calming and smothered with loving affection and you take a quick look at the students again all hurrying out the room to give you privacy all the while snickering amongst themselves. "I've told them to get home as soon as classes are dismissed but they still don't listen." he takes a few steps to stand in front of you and he puts his finger underneath your chin to gently tilt it upwards so that he can lay his eyes upon your face. "But I guess I have them to thank for letting me overhear how much you adore me." he takes your hand in his and gives a chaste kiss on the back of it. "How about a dinner date then, my love?"
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A/N:this shit messy fr💀
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Text
Our love is god (modern!Heathers JD type!Aemond Targaryen x Reader)
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synopsis: High school is hell. Truly. However, the one person you think will finally make it better, only makes it so much more worse.
warnings: angst, making out, death, murder, faked suicide, sexual abuse, physical violence, gun violence, afab reader
word count: 6.4k
taglist: @hopelesswritergall, @urmomsgirlfriend1
(If you want to be tagged for a specific character/fandom/series or in general let me know in my asks, comments or DMs)
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King´s Landing high school. Your own personal hell as you liked to call it in your journal. You really thought joining forces with the devils that ran it would help you get through it, but all it did was make things harder. You left your real friends and unpopularity behind for a seat at the same table as the Baratheon sisters, only to help them bully the rest of the school and focus on your looks and parties more than anything else. You dreaded seeing them every day. Floris wasn´t as bad you had to admit, she was nice. A cheerleader, but in the end she still participated in her sisters doings. Cassandra was a more devout follower. The year book committee and the boob job that mommy paid for made her think she was more than she actually was, but even she couldn´t reach the tyranny of their sister Maris. She truly was a mythic bitch. Drowning in your thoughts, one makes its reoccurring return. College will be paradise if you´re not dead by graduation.
From the side you could feel an elbow get rammed into your ribs painfully.
“Ow. What´s your damage, Maris?” You spit out the words while rubbing the sore spot on your side.
“Stop whining. You are going to go to the big frat party with me this weekend. You should be thankful.” Just hearing her tone made you want to punch her in the boob or something. Gods, you couldn´t even think straight.
“Yay, great.” You can barely hide the sarcasm in your faked excitement.
However Maris doesn´t get the chance to say anything about it as right in that moment a commotion breaks out in the back of the cafeteria. With your old friends you would have been able to just ignore it, but with the Baratheons? No chance. The four of you turn around to see Cregan Stark and Qyle Martell harassing a student you think you have never seen before, which is highly unlikely as literally everyone here had been to kindergarten, elementary school and middle school together. Despite not recognizing him, you feel an immediate yet inexplainable attraction towards him. The whole ethereal beauty that he had going on was really working for him. So much so, that when the bickering stops and a gasp rolls through the cafeteria as the stranger pulls out a gun, you aren´t even that deterred. In fact you think it´s kinda funny how the two jocks pee their pants at being shot with blanks. They deserve some push back to their constant bullying.
But even that little moment can´t lift your mood long enough to get you over the party. When Maris picks you up in her dad´s way too expensive car you already feel like sending her away again. On the other hand you might as well end your own social life then. No.
“And don´t forget the corn nuts!” Maris yells after you as you walk towards the convenience store on your way to that stupid frat party.
“Plain or bbq?” You yell back.
“Bbq!” You get your answer in the middle of the door.
Rolling your eyes so she doesn´t see it you make your way through the store grabbing the snacks and looking around until you almost run into someone.
“Oh, sorry I didn´t look where I was going.” You take a step back feeling your cheeks heat in embarrassment as you recognize the stranger from school.
“It´s okay… You know, I´m not the biggest fan of your friend either.” He says as he grabs some snacks himself.
“What?” His statement catches you off guard quite a bit.
“I watched you… Today during lunch and how you rolled your eyes at her.” He explains as if it is nothing.
“You´ve been watching me?” You ask surprised, but with a smile on your face. “Should I be flattered or scared?”
"A little bit of both maybe?" He leans against one of the shelves. Putting on a half smile himself. A very handsome one at that. For the first time you really study him. The way his silver hair flows past his shoulders. The intense look of his right eye and the scar above his left one. The sharpness of his cheekbones, nose and chin. Until your eyes stick to his lips. Those perfect, pink lips with the sharp cupids bow.
"I can do that..." You whisper more to yourself than the lean person in front of you.
That's when the penetrating sound of a car horn and Maris screaming your name pulls the two of you back to reality.
"Better run quick. Your friend is waiting." He teases as you make your way to the Cash register. Your name rolling of his tongue in the most promising manner. Promising what? That is what you wanted to find out.
“I should.” You sigh. “But before I go… Since you know my name, it´s kind of only fair to tell me yours, don´t you think?”
“Aemond. Aemond Targaryen.” He finally introduces himself and upon hearing his last name you remember him distantly. You had talked to his sister Helaena once or twice a few years ago.
“Well, it was nice meeting you Aemond Targaryen, but I have to go appease the will of a high school tyrant now…” You shoot him a wink and get back to the car as quickly as possible.
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The party, much like you thought, is a total bust. The music is complete shit, the alcohol is cheap and Maris leaves you alone to do god knows what with some frat bro almost immediately. Leaving you alone to be harassed by his friend. It all together gives you a major headache and so you leave at the first chance. Walking home still is a better option than having to bear this any longer.
You arrive there late, but the fresh air helps the headache. To your further luck, your parents are already asleep so you can go to your room directly. Writing out all your frustrations in your journal.
While you do so there is a tap on the window. Jolting out of your seat, you see Aemond standing there.
“Greetings and salutations.” He says as you open up for him to come inside. An invitation he takes instantly. “So how was the party?”
“About as good as one would think…” You scoff, closing your journal as you turn towards him.
“Ah… I bet your presence was missed greatly.” He says, the words dripping with sarcasm and making you laugh. I was nice to really laugh for the first time in a while. The two of you talk some more and somehow end the night cuddled up naked under the blankets. Remnants of both of your juices sticking to your thighs as you talk about gods know what. You honestly can´t pay much attention. Yet even post nut clarity couldn´t give you the realization that he just found out where you lived and came in through your gods damn window. Probably because his kisses kept your mind far away enough from reality.
“Maris Baratheon is one bitch that deserves to die.” He sighs.
“Killing her won´t solve anything. I say we just grow up be adults and then die.” You reply in a quiet tone. Your faces so close to each other that there is barely even an inch between you. Perfect to pull him in once more. Locking your lips in a deep, passionate kiss.
The two of you fall asleep soon after. A tangle of limbs and your head tucked under his chin, on his chest. However when you open your eyes again you are alone. The only sign of Aemonds company the previous night being your own nakedness and a few marks he had left on you that would be easily covered up.
The real shock comes when you get back to school on monday. Meeting up with the Baratheon sisters as every morning, you are surprised to see only Cassandra and Floris. Who look tired. Well, Floris looks tired and quite sad. Cas looks as unbothered as ever, if not a bit happy.
“Where did you leave Maris?” You ask coming to a stop in front of them.
“Didn´t you hear? She killed herself two days ago…” Floris reveals with a quiet voice. Your heart sets out for a beat at the news.
“Yeah, where have you been all weekend?” Cas adds.
“I- I don´t know… I´m sorry for what happened with your sister. You put your sunglasses back on and leave them to find Aemond.
“Hey.” You great him with a small peck.
“What is going on? You look like someone just died.” He remarks, pulling you close to him and placing another peck to your cheek.
“My best friend just killed herself.” You murmur.
“Don´t you mean your worst enemy?” He replies with a small grin.
“Same difference.” Still bewildered by the happenings of this morning, you shake your head and then go to class with Aemond.
Only to learn then that you would all get a half day off. A half day seemed to be fairly less for a student just committing suicide in your opinion, especially one as influential as Maris, but then again she also enjoyed more fame than during her life. So at least she couldn´t complain. You felt a bit bad for entertaining that thought. Then again with how many lifes she had ruined...
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Going to school after that was even worse for weeks. Everyone was romanticizing Maris´ reign of terror, Cassandra silently took over what her sister had started, or at least tried to and you? Well, you only ever got away from it all when you spent time away from it with Aemond, who seemed surprisingly chill, if not smug about the bully being out of the way. The two of you get closer quick during that time. He is the most understanding boyfriend you could have ever wished for. Even his few quirks are cute. Yet he keeps his darker sides safely tucked away from you. At least for now, he vows himself. Who would have known it could get even worse.
When you enter the school building the next day, everyone is staring at you, talking to their friends in hushed whispers. At first you assume it was the usual whispers, but when Cas comes up to you, you quickly get taught better.
“You little bitch. I never knew you were that kind of person.” She says with a wide complacent grin firm on her face.
“What are you even talking about, Cas? What the hell is going on here? What is everyone talking about?” You hiss. Gripping Aemond´s hand slightly, who seemed just as confused as you were. Though he was more successful in concealing his feelings.
“Shouldn´t you know what you did? “ your supposed friend feigns innocence. It really makes you want to slap the holier than thou look off her face.
“Just. Tell. Me.” You make sure to put emphasis on every single word.
“Qyle and Cregan are going around telling everyone you blew them.” She holds her hand in front of her mouth to hide her giggle.
Without another word, you stomp past her. Running around the next corner, where Aemond stops you.
“Hey. Hey! Angel, where are you going?” He questions. Holding you by the shoulders.
“To those stupid… fucking…” You let out an undefinable sound of frustration. “They may get away with harassing the all the girls of this entire school, but not me.”
 “You have to take a breath and calm down.” He says in a low voice as to not attract any more attention.
“Don’t tell me to calm down.” You seethe, but at least you stop marching through the mass of other students.
“Calm down.” He reiterates. “I already have a plan.”
Right in that moment however the bell rings signaling the start of first period. And it is pure horror. The whispers all around you echo in your head even when it is entirely silent. Teachers drone on and on about topics that you couldn´t get less of a shit about. Cassandra and Floris arent´t any help with any of it either of course. With how nice Floris tended to be it was easy to forget who they were sometimes. Time stretches endlessly until you reach home. Sitting down on your bed, you wait for the telltale sign of Aemond coming over. By now the knocking on the window doesn´t even startle you anymore. The opposite is the case. Whenever you hear it, your heart instinctively skips a beat. Just like it does now.  You open the window and watch Aemond hop inside. Greeting him with one, two, three little pecks to the lips you pull him to the bed with you by the lapels of his leather jacket. Barely separating from him as you do so, you grin against his lips at the way his large hands grab your hips to pull your body close to his.
“I missed you so much.” He hums against your mouth between kisses.
“We haven´t seen each other for two hours.” You giggle. Running a gentle hand over his chest as the fingernails of the other massage his neck.
“I know and it felt like an eternity.” Aemond all but growls against your neck. Biting it lightly, before sucking a mark into the supple flesh.
You let out a trembling whine at the tingling feeling his lips chase down your spine. The needy sound followed by an amused chuckle from him.
“So, your still out for revenge?” He growls against your neck.
“Yes.” You answer just a bit more breathless than before.
“Good.” Aemond pulls away from you and throws two guns beside you on the bed. Startled by them, you jump back. Looking at the blond, who returns it with a smug expression.
“Aem, I want to pay them back not murder them!” You shriek, settling down a good bit away from the weapons. He on the other hand is eerily calm.
“Do you take german?” He asks as he sits down and takes your hands.
“French.” You answer still on edge.
“These are `Ich lüge´ bullets. My grandpa stole a shitload of them in WW2, they´re like tranquilizers. Only they break the surface of the skin enough to cause a little blood.” Aemond explains as he dumps a handful of bullets between the guns.
“So… It looks like the person has been shot, but really they are just unconscious and bleeding?” You ask just to be sure. The sight of the weapons made you feel all kinds of bad.
He nods. “We shoot Cregan and Kyle, it looks like they shot each other and by the time they regain consciousness, they´ll be the laughing stock of the whole school.”
“And what is that for?” You point to the folded paper that lies between the bullets.
“That is the cherry on top. A fake suicide note. Painting the whole thing as them killing themselves, because they knew they would never be accepted for being a gay couple.” Aemond snickers and you have to admit that the plan in all it´s simplicity sounds pretty good.
Taking your phone you send a text to Cregan. Luring him and Qyle into the woods behind the school under the guise of wanting to have a threesome with the two of them. Knowing full well it would get them where you wanted. Throwing your phone to the bed with a nervous giggle, you feel Aemond crawl on top of you. The weight of his taller frame pushing you into the mattress as his lips find yours again.
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When you enter the woods and Aemond kisses you one last time, before you hide your gun and he goes to hide in the trees, your whole body trembles with uncertainty.
“Hey, Dollface.” Cregan greets you.
The two guys come to a stand about five feet away from you. “So, how are we gonna start this?” Qyle adds to his friend. Wasting no time as always.
“I thought you two could start by undressing for me.” You flutter your lashes at them, voice like honey in their ears.
“Okay.” The two of them say in unison. Nodding before they all but tearing the clothes of their body, stripping down to their boxers. The three of you count to three and right as they want to rip off the last piece of fabric down too your plan sets in action. Aemond jumps out from behind a nearby tree, the pair of you whip out the guns and aim for the half naked and afraid boys. Aemond hits Qyle right in the chest and he drops to the ground right where he stood. You are less lucky, missing Cregan by only an inch. He turns to see his friend lie on the ground, in a growing puddle of his own blood and makes a run for it. Your heart starts pounding in your chest even harder than before, if that even is possible. Threatening to break out of your ribcage as you watch Aemond´s face contorts into a grimace of anger.
“Shit! You stay here, I´m getting him.” He barks, chasing after a screaming Cregan.
It´s silent where you remain alone. Making you wonder what is going on. In the same breath your eyes fall down to Qyle´s body. The blood still pools underneath his body, prompting your thoughts run off the rails with crazy theories.
It isn´t until Aemond chases Cregan back to you, where he finally shoots him as well. The burly body flopping to the ground like a sack of potatoes. With horror you see your worst theory come true. They are both dead. Aemond killed them. And you helped him. A scream leaves your lips and you throw the weapon in your hand away on instinct. Clasping your hands over your mouth as the shock seeps in.
“No. No, no, no, no.” You mumble more to yourself than anyone else really. You are frozen to the spot you are standing in and if it were up to you, you would fall to your knees then and there. But Aemond takes your hand and pulls you away from the crime scene.
You don´t come to until you are in his car, in front of your house. You feel empty, detached from reality. Your body functions on autopilot. Putting a cigarette into your mouth to even somehow try to cope with the stress of what you had just become witness to. However when you lift up the lighter, the flame licks at the skin of your palm instead. You let out an agonizing scream and tears immediately shoot into your eyes at the white, hot pain.
The funeral a week later is a rough one. Even rougher than Maris´. The way the Septon plays up the gay martyr part is unbelievable. Aemond´s presence by your side doesn´t give you any comfort any more either. You can barely look at him anymore. Over the course of the past days your mind had started to come back from what lead you there, but it also distanced itself from him. Only able to see that side of him that he had hidden so well. All you want to do is hide under your blanket for the rest of your life, instead you have to sit in that gods forsaken sept, feeling sorry for Floris and Sarah, Cregan´s half-sister and your ex best friend, who seem to be taking this the hardest. You knew that Floris and Cregan, despite him being a total goon, had been kind of on and off for a while. The two of them didn´t deserve this. Fuck, the bad conscience was eating away at you, making you nauseaus. Of course, Aemond is entirely calm. Not letting a single soul see behind the carefully strung up curtain. Even though you imagine to see the same small smug smirk in his face again that he had expressed while explaining his plan to you all those days back.
Repressing the urge to run out of the sept, you pick at the skin around your fingernails until they bleed.
Once the service is over, you get onto Aemond´s motorcycle and let him drive you home. No matter how hard it is to keep holding on to him and not dissociate the whole ride. Your mind makes up then and there, that this has to end. You have to end this.
That night when he comes over, you sit him down.
“We um… We need to talk.” You mumble. Still not meeting his eye. He had already noticed your inability to do so since that day, but until now he thought you would catch yourself again after an initial shock. A mistake he noted mentally to never do again.
“What do you want to talk about?” He feigns ignorance, though he full well has a perfect idea of what you want to talk about.
“I… We… I can´t do this anymore, Aemond.” You stammer out, your leg trembling under his hand that rests on your thigh.
“Cannot do what anymore, Angel?” His one seeing eye rests on you as intensely as ever.
“This. Us. I thought I could cope with what we have done, but I can´t. I can´t look at you like before anymore. The sight of their… bodies… still haunts me in my dreams.” You try to find the right words to express your feelings and still it feels like the severity of them doesn´t come out right.
“You can´t be serious about that.” He faltered. Despite having a feeling about what you were gonna say, he still feels floored by it. His heart hurting at your words.
“I am. I never wanted this. “ Your voice hardens as you get more confident about your decision.
“You wanted this too. You said you wanted revenge.” Aemond insists.
“Yes, I wanted revenge. I did not ask for this. Two people are dead!” You try to get through to him. To no avail.
“You didn´t seem to mind much when Maris died.” He blurts out. It´s entirely in the heat of the moment. And he regrets revealing it to you like that, but it is out nonetheless.
“What?” You shriek in response. “I thought Maris killed herse…”
The thought of the fakes suicide note for Cregan and Qyle enters your mind and you hide your face in your hands, fighting back the tears that sting in your eyes.
“Please just leave…” Your voice comes muffled from behind your hands. Opting to leave your face buried in them as you speak the defeated words.
“Angel, I am not just going to leave you. We can talk about this.” He takes your wrists in his hands and pulls them down to your lap.
“What is there to talk about? You killed three people!” You pulled your arms away from him, but his grip was too strong.
“Yes, but I did it for you.” He argues.
“How was any of that for me?” Your voice drips with disbelieve.
Aemond comes closer to you until he whispers against your lips. “They hurt you. I will never let anyone hurt you.”
Then he presses his lips to yours roughly. His tongue pushes into your mouth forcefully, stunning you into an overpowering inability to act, as he pushes you against the headboard. The way his lips move against yours is aggressive, making you cry out in search for help or to get him to stop. Just something, anything to make him stop. It takes several more moments for your brain to return to the situation, but once it does you start struggling with all your might. Biting his lip and kicking him away from you, finally sets you free from his assault.
“I want you to go. Now.” You say quietly but with as much certainty as you can put into your voice. He turns around and leaves. Surprisingly without another word. Yet your body stays on edge until long after he is gone.
Your arms wrapped tightly around your middle, you shiver from your nerves processing everything that had been revealed and happened. Unable to really cope with it yet. Despite not having really liked them your friends where dead and only the gods knew what Aemond would do next.
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That night you get haunted by him in your dreams.
You find yourself in the Baratheon´s dark kitchen. Aemond in front of you, looking for a knife. For some reason you know Cassandra is going to be his next victim. Yet, no matter how hard you try to speak and keep him from going through with his fucked up plan, you can´t. Not a single sound comes from your lungs. With panic you watch as he grabs a dirty knife from the dishwasher and goes into Cas´ room. In the complete dark you can´t see exactly what he does, you can only see the world go dark around you seconds later, feeling like you are falling into a bottomless pit, you wake up with a gasp. Sweat soaking your pillow and your chest heaving with short heavy bursts of breath while your heart threatens to break out if it. You know you have to stop him, before what the dream is foreboding becomes reality. He is incalculable, dangerous and whatever he does end up doing next, can´t happen under any circumstances. You spend the whole day trying to make out a plan, not paying attention to any of your teachers or Floris and Cassandra. Not a single idea your brain comes up with is good enough to work. Luckily it also makes you ignore the weird looks your friends are giving you over your unresponsiveness.
Saying goodbye to them when they drop you of in the afternoon, you plan to head to your room immediately. A plan that is thwarted by your parents, who await you in the living room, worried expressions on both of their faces.
“Darling! We need to talk to you for a moment.” Your mother speaks up first. Seemingly relieved to see you alive and well.
“Sure, what´s going on?” Your mind is still half busy with Aemond when you put down your bag in front of you.
“Aemond just dropped by. Saying all these things about how we should look out for you, that he was worried for you…” Your mom´s voice is shaky as she recalls on the memories of what had happened so shortly before you arrived.
“Did he say something else?” You say passively. Inside you are boiling already. Who does he think he is?
“He said you confessed some rather alarming urges to him. That you shouldn´t be left alone with sharp objects or… or that kind of stuff.” Your father holds your mother a little tighter to calm her down again. You truly feel sorry for them. How could they know that what they have been told was as wrong as it possibly could have been.
“I´m sorry… But I´m not… That´s not true. You know I´d talk to you if there was anything going on.” You assure them.
You try to spend more time with them, but once your parents start to believe you, you make your way back to your room. Your mind is finally made up on what to do. If talking to him wouldn´t help to get him to stop killing, maybe you could shock him into it. Hopefully. He did used say, that the extreme always makes an impression. Taking your bedsheets you tie them around your body in a way that allows you to make it look like you had hung yourself. For once it would come in handy that he had never stopped texting you. Hurrying to get done before you hear that accursed knock. Tipping over the chair you use in your preparations mere seconds before he lets himself in. No matter how much you want to move or even at least open your eyes, you force yourself to stay calm. No matter how unfamiliar the air under your forcefully relaxed feet feels and your lungs hurt from the flat breaths you can allow yourself at most to take. Blissfully unaware to the gun hidden in the back of his pants, with which he planned gods know what. While he doesn´t move or breath or speak for a short moment. Frozen in a shock not deep enough to hold him for long.
It seems you have underestimated his crazy. Mentally you curse yourself out aggressively so that you almost miss him beginning to speak to you.
I can´t believe you did it.” He says in a breathy tone and you can hear his hands slap against his thighs as if he had raised them in defeat beforehand. “I loved you. Sure I was coming in here ready to kill you, but… I at least would´ve wanted to tell you about this petition the whole school signed first. Of course they don´t know what they really signed up for, but that won´t be any of their concern anymore soon. Oh Angel, it´s a shame you don´t get to see this play out anymore. I have the perfect plan. During pep rally on Friday the whole school is gonna come down and everyone in there with it. Listen to this. We, the students of King´s Landing high, will die. Our bodies will be the ultimate protest against you. A society that churns out slaves and blanks. Fuck you all.”
He was even further gone than you would´ve thought or hoped. “It´s not very subtle, but a school blowing up, that´s big. The kind of big that infects a generation. The only place Baratheons and Snows can get along is in heaven. We could´ve united them together, you and I… you left me no choice. So I will do it alone if I must.”
By now he is breathless from the passion that is no doubt not only in his voice but also his heart. The clicking of a lighter registers over the ringing of sheer panic in your ears, followed by the faint footsteps and mumbling of your mother. Aemond is quick to sneak back out the window and you are just about to open your eyes back up and take a deep breath, when the door opens behind you and your poor mothers scream can be heard throughout the entire house.
Hurrying, you untie the bedsheets with shaky hands, hurting your knees in the process of falling to the ground, but you don´t care. All you care about is getting to your mom. Hugging her weak, sobbing form to your body as tightly as you can. Soothing her as best as possible, but the damage has been done you guess and you really can´t blame her. If you would have been in her place you wouldn´t have reacted or felt any other way.
“It´s okay, mom. I´m okay, I´m still here. It wasn´t real.” It´s safe to say, that after all of that you don´t sleep well. Or at all really. How could you after Aemond has told you what would happen next. You want to stop him, feel like you have to stop him, even more so now that your plan has failed so miserably. If anything you´re under the impression of having worsened the state his soul is in.
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For two whole days you have to watch school go by without anything out of the ordinary happening. Which just makes the bad feelings in your gut swirl even more intensely. Yet, at the same time, there is a strange calm inside your mind. There certainly, realistically, is very little you can do to keep Aemond from doing what he wants to do. But at least if, or rather when, you go down on Friday, you don´t go down by being by Aemond´s side, watching the smoke pour out the doors. Making s´mores over the burning remains of your dead school mates. This was sick. A whole parade of red flags. A perverted power fantasy, that you can´t believe you didn´t notice before. In those days you have more people than you are willing to count come after you, questioning how you are still alive. How did the stupid rumors always spread the fastest and furthest?
The poor guidance counselor is who almost suffers from you losing your nerves over it, on the day of. You are quick to apologize as well though.
“I am so sorry, I´d be glad to talk about this another day, now I really have something more important to do.” You let the man behind, that still opens and closes his mouth like a fish on land.
Marching through the masses of students on their way to the gym. Scared shitless, but still determined to put an end to this if you can. It was high time you pulled your shit together anyway. Finding Aemond in the boiler room, he is already busy setting up multiple explosives.
“Hey!” You pull his attention away from the dynamite.
“Greetings and salutations. Come to change your mind?” He inquired.
“No. Never! Gods, how delusional are you to think that anyone would join you in this madness! You are no better than your mother.” You take another step closer to him. The venom in your tone gets him to stay silent for once. However he still doesn´t stop fiddling with the bombs.
“Put that down, slowly and then put your hands behind your head.” You put your hand in the pocket of your cardigan to grab your fathers hunting knife in case you´d need it. Pulling it out you earn a genuinely amused chuckle, then everything goes too fast for you to react properly. Aemond kicks the weapon out of your hand, letting it slide out of your reach, and knocks you out with a few , for him very simple, movements. Sinking to the ground you barely stay conscious long enough to see him walk further into the basement of the building. Fuck. The already quiet sounds of the pep rally become even more quiet over the dull thudding in your head and then darkness claims you.
You don´t know how long you have been out once your eyes open again. Thankful for the low light of the rooms you are in, you tumble towards the direction you saw Aemond leave in. Holding on tightly to the wall or anything you can find to keep the dizziness from knocking you off your feet again. Too busy to hear your scuffling steps, you can grab the gun he had brought and laid down beside himself.
“I said put it down… and hands behind your head…” The sentence is broken up by your heavy breathing.
One of his hands shoots to the side to check for the missing gun. Raising them over his head almost immediately and turning around to you slowly.
“Angel, come on. You know you can´t shoot me so why don´t you just put down the gun and join me? I´m giving you one last chance.” His tone is still smug, but you can hear a hint of fear shine through the overconfidence.
Scoffing, you shake your head at his inability to even now be real with his feelings. “Just turn off the bombs.”
Behind his eye you can see his brain mulling over every possible outcome to this situation. Surprising you, by complying to with you have just said. Putting his hands behind his head, the feeling of the imminent danger of the situation subsides from your system and you finally hear the voices from upstairs again. Having had enough of talking you wave for him to go outside with the gun, which you hold safely in both hands. Due to everyone being still in the gym and none the wiser as to what was going on not too far away from them. In front of you Aemond pushes the big front doors open for both of you to step outside.
Standing still, he turns to you again. Eye half closed and so close to you that if either of you were to move, your lips would most definitely touch.
“You know what you need to do now.” He murmurs. The way his breath fans over your face so warm and for a moment you feel set back to the beginning of your relationship. When everything was still okay or at least as okay as it could be.
“I don´t want to have to do it.” You whisper back.
“There is no other way to end this anymore now. I am far too damaged, but you are not beyond repair. Please… Stand back now. You know it had to end this way. No matter how much you wished it didn´t.” Aemond takes a step back himself and stretches his arms out to the side.
You take a deep breath and as you take a step away from him remind yourself of everything he had done and wanted to do. Looking up at him you ask him in a voice void of emotion.
“Any last words?”
“I worship you. So much. I´ll trade my life for yours.”
With a heart heavier than it should be, you point the gun back at the man who you had thought was the only one to ever truly understand you. Then, before your brain can have the chance to think twice about it your actions, you pull the trigger.
The shot rings in your ears long after it is over. The sight of Aemond falling to the ground like a sack of potatoes, filling you with a great void of nothingness. Still you stay there for a few more minutes. Lighting yourself a cigarette and waiting for that atrocious ringing to stop. A part of you still hopes to wake up and have all of this be a nightmare, but you never wake up and the cigarette is entirely done. So you throw the damned thing away, drop the gun on Aemond´s lifeless body and get back inside where everyone is flooding the hallways.
Ignoring Cassandra´s comments and protest, you march past her, taking Floris by the hand and walk over to Sarah who is sitting alone on the stairs.
“Ladies, there is a new sheriff in town. And the way I see it, all three of us are still free tonight. So, I propose we buy snacks and watch movies at my place all night.” You say with a conciliatory smile.
The two girls look happy about the suggestion. About as happy as they can look under the given circumstances and together the three of you decide to cut the school day a bit shorter and go now.
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“You’re My Home.”
Robby Keene x Reader
Countdown to Cobra Kai Season 5 - 7 Days left!!!
Masterlist
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(Gif not mine)
Requested? No
Summary: When Robby’s mom forgets to pay the bills while she’s off in Mexico with some guy, he doesn’t know what to do. Everything in his life feels like it’s coming apart at the seams. Well, except for his girlfriend, (Y/n)…
Warnings: starred out swear words, season one Robby, neglect
I’m pretty sure it’s fine but I haven’t watched the episode this is vaguely based off of so if some of the minor details aren’t exactly right just ignore it 😬😂
Pairing: Robby Keene x Fem!Reader
We’re almost back on track. Sorry again for all that 😬😂
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“Hey, Robby, I’m home- what’s going on?” (Y/n)’s brow furrowed in confusion, as she took in the pitch blackness of the apartment and her boyfriend standing in the dim glow of his phones flashlight. His eyes widened when he noticed her in the doorway, and he quickly crossed the room to meet her.
“Sh*t I was supposed to come pick you up. I’m sorry I wasn’t paying attention to the time.” He said with an apologetic expression, clearly feeling terrible for his slip up, but (Y/n) just waved it off.
“It’s fine. Sandra dropped me off. Why are the lights out?” She asked, pointing out the obvious difference in the room for the second time in hopes of receiving some sort of answer. Robby sighed in defeat.
“My mom left for Mexico with some guy and didn’t pay the bill.” He mumbled, embarrassment clear in his tone, though it was also evident that he was trying his hardest to hide it. (Y/n) hated that he felt that he needed to be embarrassed about anything in front of her. Especially something like this. It wasn’t like her life was exactly ‘sunshine and daisies’ either. Robby wasn’t the only person in the world who had to deal with the sh*t cards life had dealt him. And, he was doing a great job anyways, all things considered. Yes, in (Y/n)’s opinion, Robby Keene had absolutely nothing to be embarrassed of. And she would certainly tell him that too, if that’s what he needed to hear. But, presently, it seemed they had other, more pressing, matters to discuss.
“Robby-”
“I’m sorry. I know you don’t like the dark-”
“Robby-“
“And i know I promised a movie night-“
“Robby-“
“But we could still maybe go out and do something. I don’t have any cash but-“
“Robby!” His eyes widened at her volume, but his breathing remained concerningly uneven.
“What?” (Y/n) frowned at the crack in his voice, having known him long enough to know he was on the verge of a breakdown, which she couldn’t exactly blame him for. He’d been through a lot as of late; All this karate stuff and the Mexico thing with his mom. It would be a lot on anybody, and that’s before adding the crap with his dad to the picture.
(Y/n) dropped her purse on the counter beside her and held her arms out towards him.
“C’mere.” And that was all the invitation Robby needed, as he almost immediately buried his face in the crook of her neck, his arms winding around her waist tightly. (Y/n) could feel his body shaking in her grip and let a tear slip at the thought of him hurting with her completely powerless to stop it. But she was quick to wipe it away, not wanting Robby to see her upset too and feel even worse. “Wanna cuddle on the couch and gossip about my work friends?” She offered up, sighing in relief when she felt him chuckle against her skin, before pulling away.
“I’d like that.”
+ + +
Robby had calmed down immensely over the course of the evening; (Y/n) extremely grateful of this fact. It seemed she’d been able to distract him from his worries, at least for the moment, as they reveled in the feeling of being in one another’s arms. They’d been comfortably silent for a while before Robby spoke, (Y/n) having been almost asleep when his words forced her awake.
“You deserve the world.” He said suddenly, making (Y/n) turn her head to look up at him. “I wish I could give it to you.” The girl blushed at his words, before shaking her head.
“You’re my world.” She responded, causing her boyfriend to grin, though it was clear to her that he was trying his hardest to suppress it.
“Stop.” He said through a chuckle, but (Y/n) liked the rosy cheeked look he was sporting at her words, so she continued.
“It’s true, though. I love you, Robby.” And she meant it. Robby Keene was the whole world to (Y/n) (Y/l/n). Without him, she might as well be drifting in an endless sea of nothingness.
(Y/n) figured it had to be unhealthy to love someone this much, but didn’t have it in her to care. Robby was her soulmate. They both knew it. And they didn’t need anyone else. Robby’s smile widened, if that was even possible, and his grip around her body tightened.
“I love you so much. You mean everything to me.” And she knew he meant it too. Cause they were all each other had; just the two of them, and this crappy apartment. Until they didn’t have that anymore either, and they had to move on, which they would also do together. Because, no matter what, (Y/n) and Robby would always have each other.
“You’re my home, (Y/n/n)…”
“And you’re mine.”
Tag lists are open!!!
Tags: @electriclcvewp @kaqua @nickangel13
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gingerylangylang1979 · 3 months
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Does Carmy die in the end? Don't hate me.
Ok @thoughtfulchaos773, here's the post.
I've been thinking for a while that Carmy may die in the finale. I may not be able to write this post as intelligently as it deserves but here it go.
You know how shows tend to end how they begin? The pilot begins with Carmy on a bridge with the bear in a cage. This is a dream and seems like a final showdown with his nemesis/alter ego. They are about to battle and then a car horn and swerving sound breaks the dream state and Carmy wakes up in his reality. We also get a scene of a body in a morgue. We assume it's Mikey but what if it's Carmy. We also hear voices from Micheal as if him and Carmy are in the same realm.
All throughout the show driving is a theme. It always seemed noteworthy to me because it's a show themed around cooking. Why is driving so important?
In "Hands" there is a lot of emphasis on who can drive and who can't. In "Dogs", there is confusion on where Cicero lives. Cicero later discusses a dream about Carmy's dad driving and what seems to imply Carmy is the little boy flying forever in the air. Sounds ominous. Syd names her catering company Sheridan Road. In season two Carmy and Claire make random trips out to the suburbs and needing a ride is central. Why do either of them really need a ride to do these errands? Donna crashes her car into the family home. Syd tells Richie to drive friends and family night.
Now back to it all coming full circle. There has been a lot of speculation of Carmy leaving for a different career or not. If we fully accept that he doesn't leave by choice, he could leave due to death. Why does everyone from the health inspector to Mr. Sirsky (sp?) confuse Carmy as the dead brother?
Carmy seems to be gradually handing the place over and disappearing but it doesn't seem to be conscious. That would make him seem suicidal like Mikey. But it's not that, he has no idea he's setting up his departure. He gives Tina the knife. His new whites have his initials in san serif white font, not the pronounced blue cursive, like he's a ghost. Syd's scenes parallel his as if she is meant to take over. He tells her it's her ship and I'll dial business you are everything else. Syd and Carmy are often shown in ethereal light, like Mikey looking back at Carmy in 1.8. Do they both pass on and Syd is the new hope/destiny?
And then, again there is the reference back to the pilot if this all comes true and full circle. Anybody who watched Six Feet Under gets it. I always found these two stories very similar. In the pilot Nate (Carmy) has an aneurysm. We kind of forget about it because the story shifts to him coming back home as the prodigal son and the whole family dealing with the death of the patriarch and the passing over of the family business. The brother who stayed (Richie) is resentful. He stayed. He didn't really want to be a mortician but it was how he stayed close to the family and tried to bond with the dad. The business is in shambles and they have to "change the chemistry" to make it work. A new talent (Sydney) comes in that makes it all better and offers a different perspective. I won't go into the entire plot but in the end what happens? Nate dies. Aneurysm. Full circle. This is often how shows end. There are often clues.
My theory is that somehow Cicero and his dad tie into some sort of trip to the suburbs. I honestly think Cicero is Carmy's real dad. I feel somehow this will come to light and he makes a trip to see one of them. Why was Carmy confused about where Cicero lives? I don't think that was a throwaway line.
Does Carmy die in a car accident in the suburbs?
I may have left out a few things but I dunno, thoughts?
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