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#so please listen to what others are saying
joelsgreys · 3 days
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Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader
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snapshots masterlist l fic notifs
summary: You come home from your first day back out on patrol and find Joel giving your daughter a bath.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. JACKSON ERA. GIRLDAD!JOEL. established relationship. this specific work does not mention reader’s age (other works in this series may mention she is younger than Joel), no physical description of reader, Rosemary comes with a slight physical description (she has Joel’s hair color/hair type and eye color, no mentions of her skin tone). brief mention of Sarah, brief mention of Joel being a single father pre outbreak, Joel and Ellie are fine because i said so and it’s what he deserves, okay? general fluff and a lot of cuteness, brief smutty themes, but nothing explicit. minimal editing.
word count: 2.3k
a/n: short little thing, but this feels like the cutest thing i have written in a while. if you enjoy it, please consider reblogging or leaving a comment <33
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Joel sighs to himself as he scrapes the remnants of Rosemary’s lunch into the bin of food scraps beside the kitchen counter—the neighbor’s chickens were in for a real treat tomorrow morning when he dropped them off on his way to patrol. He had just about coaxed his two and a half year old daughter into eating the crust of her jam sandwich when Ellie walked into the kitchen with a soccer ball tucked under her arm, a trade he was fairly certain she’d made more for the toddler’s sake than her own.
She was sixteen now, spent more time with her friends than she did with her family lately, but her soft spot for the little girl always, always brought her back home.
“Hey kid, look what I’ve got,” Ellie had grinned, holding the ball out for the child to see. “What do you say we go out back and kick this thing around? Sound like fun?”
He frowned, the creases between his brows deepening.
“Ellie, can’t you see I’m in the middle of feedin’ her—”
But it had been too late.
Rosie’s dark brown eyes widened, and she squealed in delight. “Down! Down!” she had exclaimed, whacking her teeny hands down on top of her wooden high chair on either side of her plate. “Daddy! Down, want down!”
Joel decided to put his foot down.
Well, he had tried to put his foot down, anyway.
“Not ‘til you’ve finished every last bite, babygirl. Y’gotta finish your sandwich and eat all your carrots, alright?”
“M’all done,” she’d insisted, placing both hands on her belly. Although Joel would have preferred she clean her plate, you had taught him to honor her fullness cues.
“We have to listen to Rosemary,” you’d told him. “If she says she’s full, then she’s full. The last thing we want to do is force her to keep eating when she’s not hungry, Joel. Her relationship with food starts with us, after all.”
“You’re startin’ to sound like that goddamn child rearin’ book,” he had teased you, earning himself a stern glare.
He liked to give you a hard time about it, but the truth of the matter was, that parenting book you found in the library turned out to be pretty helpful for both of you—while this wasn’t Joel’s first rodeo, the last time he had been around a child this young was over three decades ago. With Sarah, he’d flown through her childhood by the seat of his pants, went through a lot more trial and error scenarios than he liked to admit.
Often, Joel found himself feeling guilty. He tried to give some credit to the clueless young man in his twenties, the one who had been left to raise his baby girl all on his own when her mom couldn’t take it anymore after one year. Things turned out alright, but whenever he sees you with Rosemary, takes in the way you pour your entire heart into being a good mother to yours and his daughter, he can’t help but reminisce on his first life, on all those moments he felt so hopeless—all of those moments when he didn’t know what to do, and had no one to turn to for help. No one to lean on.
Oh how he wished Sarah could have known what it was like to have both of her parents at her side.
Like Rosie does.
Sighing, Joel places her plate in the sink, along with his own. He turns and glances at the clock on the wall—it’s half past noon, and he knows your early morning patrol group should be arriving back to the town’s main gates any minute now. Sure, caring for Rosemary had served as a decent distraction, but every so often, his anxieties would creep up on him. He worried about you being out there on the other side of the wall. And if you being out there wasn’t bad enough, you were out there without him.
“I’m back on the patrol roster next week,” you informed him one evening while the two of you were cleaning the kitchen after supper. You winced when he dropped the plate in his hands into the sink, the loud clanking noise bouncing off the walls. You wasted no time in pleading your case. “It’s been almost three years, Joel. I have to get back to pulling my weight around here. As much as I’d love to, I can’t stay home forever, and you know that as well as I do.”
Slowly, he’d spun around to face you, the muscle in his jaw ticking—he wasn’t happy. “Find another job,” he bit through his teeth. “Somethin’ in town. Somethin’ safe.”
“Joel—”
“You’re a mother now!” he hissed, angrily.
“And you’re a father,” you’d countered without missing a beat. Knowing Joel’s reaction was only coming from a place of concern, you walked up to him and placed a hand on his heaving chest, right over his racing heart in an effort to calm him. “Look, I’m just capable of getting myself home safely as you are, alright? And if it makes you feel any better, I’ll be partnered with Tommy. He’ll have my back.”
He’d found very little consolation in that.
Joel sighs again and reaches for the faucet.
“Uh, Joel?” Ellie’s voice comes from behind him.
“What?” He turns around, his jaw dropping open when he sees her standing there, carefully holding Rosemary out towards him by her underarms. She’s covered from head to toe in mud. “What the hell did you do to her?”
“You know how it was raining for like three days?” Ellie shoots him a sheepish smile. “The ball went into a mud puddle, and well, she sorta went in after it.”
“Jesus Christ, she’s filthy!” Exasperated, Joel narrows his eyes at her. “Why weren’t you watchin’ her?”
“I was, but she was too fast! Kid’s a little speed demon, man. Aren’t ya, Rosie?”
Rosie giggles and kicks her dangling feet, mud dripping off her tiny, leather oxford shoes and onto the floor with an audible splatter.
“She’s gonna be home from patrol any minute now,” he says, shaking his head. “If she sees Rosie like this, she’ll have my ass, and yours.” Carefully, he takes Rosemary from Ellie’s hands, holding her out and away from him. He jerks his chin towards the dirty floor. “Clean up this mess while I take her upstairs and give her a bath. We might just be able to get away with this.”
She gives him a thumbs up. “You got it, old man.”
“C’mon, Rosie Posie. Let’s get you all washed up before mama gets home and puts all three of us in a timeout.”
She gives him a wide, toothy smile. “Okay, daddy.”
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Groaning, you shove through the front door.
You had underestimated how difficult it would be to get back in the saddle of a horse after almost three years of not being in one.
It would take some getting used to—again.
“Fuck,” you hiss, closing the door and leaning against it for support. Your knees. Your thighs. Your lower back.
There isn’t a single part of you that isn’t aching.
After taking a minute to collect yourself, you push away from the door and toe off your old, brown leather boots, leaving them there near the entryway. You call out, “I’m home!”
“Oh hey!” From seemingly out of nowhere, Ellie comes speeding down the hallway, skidding to a stop in front of you with her backpack slung over her shoulder. “Just the person I wanted to see! Mind if I head over to Dina’s for a while?”
“How long is a while, El?”
“She invited me to stay for dinner.”
You raise a knowing eyebrow at her, a smirk tugging at the corners of your mouth. “Again?”
Flushing, Ellie nods. “Yeah.”
“Did you ask Joel for permission?”
“Aw come on, man! Do I really have to ask Joel?” She huffs and rolls her eyes. “I can hear him bitching at me already.” Dropping her voice several octaves, she starts to mimic him, accent and all. “Y’been spending every fuckin’ night over there. Don’t you forget you’ve got a family, kiddo.”
Amused, you chuckle and lightly nudge her shoulder. “I have to take his side on this one, Ellie. It would be nice for the four of us to have dinner together. You know, like we used to before Dina came into the picture?” 
“I’ll stay home for dinner for the rest of the week,” Ellie swears, clasping her hands together. “Please?”
Sighing in defeat, you step aside. “Alright, go ahead. I’ll hold you to your word though, alright?”
“Thank you!” she grins as she breezes past you and out the door, slamming it shut behind her.
Shrugging out of your jacket, you hang it up in the hall closet and then head upstairs. “Joel? Are you up here?” There’s no answer. You pass by Rosemary’s room first and peek inside only to find it empty. Furrowing a brow, you head a bit further down the hallway into yours and Joel’s bedroom. That’s when you hear his voice coming from the en suite bathroom.
There, you find him kneeling on the tile floor beside the tub, his back to you as he gives your daughter her bath. Hours ahead of her normal schedule, you realize.
Casually leaning against the doorframe, you cross your arms over your chest, and quietly watch them, your lips already curling into a smile.
“What’s this?” Joel asks her, holding up a yellow rubber duck. It’s almost comical how small it looks in the palm of his large hand.
“Duckie!” Rosemary answers, enthusiastically.
He nods. “S’right, honey. It’s a duckie. And what sound does a duckie make?”
Craning your neck, you catch a glimpse of her sweet little face as she stares at him, her expression a mingle of equal parts curiosity and confusion.
“C’mon now, babygirl,” Joel prompts her, handing her the toy. “Mama taught you this already, remember?”
She looks at the rubber duck and thinks, thinks, thinks. 
After a minute, Rosie gasps and shouts, “Quack!”
“S’right! Good job, Rosie,” he praises. Leaning over the edge of the tub, he presses a kiss into her damp, dark brown curls. “That’s my girl. You’re so smart.”
“Quack!” Giggling, Rosie lifts her chubby arms over her head, bringing them down into the water with all of her might, splashing Joel. She does it over and over again, soaking his face and the front of his denim shirt as she chants, “Quack, quack, quack!”
“Alright, alright, alright!” Joel laughs, shaking his head. He lifts an arm, wiping at his face with the sleeve of his shirt. “S’enough, my little duck. Daddy already had his shower today.”
Grinning, you saunter up behind him, and with a bit of protest from your back, you bend over to kiss the top of his head. You say in jest, “Without me?”
“Mama!” Rosie cries happily, reaching for you.
“Hi baby, I missed you!” Leaning down further, you kiss her cheek, the soothing, calming scent of her lavender soap invading your senses. Drawing yourself back up to full height, you glance down at Joel with suspicion. “Is there any particular reason you’re giving her a bath so early today?”
You can tell he’s contemplating lying to you. That is, until your eyes flicker over to her muddy clothes, which lie in a heap next to the hamper.
He’d forgotten to get rid of the evidence.
“Joel? What happened to my child?”
“We, uh, we had a little problem earlier this afternoon,” Joel explains, his ears burning red. “She was out in the backyard playin' with Ellie and she got into one of the mud puddles.”
“Rosemary Miller!” you playfully scold her. Placing your hands on your hips, you ask,“Is that true, young lady? Did you get into a mud puddle?”
Rosie beams. “Yeah!”
Rolling your eyes, you laugh and shake your head. “You silly girl.”
“Thought you’d be mad, darlin’,” Joel admits, peering up at you in relief.
“Joel, all that I ask when I leave her alone with you and Ellie is that I come home and she’s still in one piece,” you tease him.
Dipping his hand into the water, Joel splashes you, and of course, Rosemary decides to follow his lead and she does the same, bursting into another fit of giggles.
“Get her, Rosie, get her!” he encourages her. 
“Hey!” You jump backwards, almost tripping over your own feet. “Cut it out! You’re getting water everywhere!”
About an hour later, once both Rosie and the bathroom floor are dry, Joel puts her down for her long overdue afternoon nap. He heads back into the bedroom where you’re digging in a drawer for a pair of clean leggings and a sweatshirt. He comes up behind you, his arms snaking around your waist as he nuzzles his nose into your neck. He inhales deeply. 
“Ew, Joel, stop it! I’m all filthy,” you say, wiggling to get away from him. 
Joel holds you tighter. “Mm, I love it when you’re filthy, baby,” he smirks. “C’mon. She’s out for at least an hour. We’ve got some time to ourselves.”
“I’m so sore,” you whine. “From riding a horse all day.”
His lips find the shell of your ear and he whispers, “Too sore to ride me, darlin’?”
Biting back a tiny whimper, your head falls back onto his shoulder as wet heat pools between your thighs. He lightly nips at your pulse point, his teeth scraping your tender, delicate flesh.
“Jesus,” you breathe when he presses into you. You feel him against the small of your back—he’s already hard. “Can you at least let me bathe first?”
Joel hums. “I’ve got a better idea, baby.” Spinning you around, he reaches for the buttons of your shirt. “How’s about we save some water and shower together?”
“Thought you already had a shower today,” you remind him of what he’d said earlier.
He pushes your shirt off your shoulders and licks his lips. “I’m sure as hell up for another one.”
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divider credit to @/saradika 🩵
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luveline · 1 day
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Hi lovely!
I saw you’re looking for Hotch requests and I think I requested one before but I forgot what it is oops.
Could I please have one where Jack calls R mom for the first time and she feels super guilty about it but Hotch is super sweet.
Thanks!
ty for requesting 💞 fem (mom and stepmom!) reader, 1.4k
You’re obsessed with your little baby, but you’d loved Hotch’s son for a long time before you had your own, and you’ve continued to love Jack as your own regardless. If anything, having a baby only cemented that you love him. 
Though you’d never disrespect his mother or what she gave up for him, you’re a parent to Jack. When Hotch is home, Jack is home, and when he isn’t you have Jack four days out of the week anyways, splitting him lovingly with his Aunt Jess. You take care of him and you love to do it; being his stepmother is a gift. You love Jack. 
And he loves to cuddle. 
“Rub my hair,” he demands sleepily, crushed as far into your neck and chest as he can be without pushing his brother out of the way. 
“Say please,” you say, already bringing your hand up where it’s sandwiched behind him to stroke the hair from his eyes. “Like this?” 
“Thank you.” 
He’s pretty much always polite when he’s not tired. Which has little to do with you and everything to do with Haley and Hotch, you’re sure, he’d been a picture of a golden child the day you met him and besides the occasional tantrum or naughty spell, he’s a grateful child. He says thank you for things you want no thanks for, when you towel dry his hair at night for bed, or when you help him into his socks. He once said thank you for a kiss on the cheek, as if it wasn’t something you’d wanted to do. 
“You’re welcome,” you say softly, brushing a stray strand of hair from his brow. “Can I have a little kiss?” 
You kiss his brow when he smiles, letting your eyes flutter closed, nose still pressed to his skin. 
“I love you, mommy,” he says, wrapping his arm around your neck with a sleepy snuffle. 
You struggle to answer. The baby gurgles against your chest.
There has been a lot of mommy talk lately. Hotch is calling you mommy often now that the baby’s born, cutesy stuff like, There’s mommy! when you come back from a shower, or How’s your mom? when he’s home from work and he wants to hold the baby, but he wants to check on you at the same time.
He’s never called you Jack’s mom, but Jack’s six. He was bound to get confused, or to feel new feelings, though you weren’t expecting him to do it right now. 
Eventually, you figure you’ll do what’s best for Jack even if that best isn’t something you deserve. “I love you too, baby.” 
“Are you falling to sleep?” he asks. 
You have arms full of children and Hotch will be home any minute if what he said on the phone is true, so you won’t. “Maybe not yet, but you can sleep if you want to. I’m sure dad will wake you up when he gets home.” 
Jack settles in with the baby. Your promise gives him the solace he needs to sleep.
…What if Hotch is angry? 
You’ll tell him what happened, of course, because you don’t have secrets with each other, and even if you did this is something he’s owed, right? He’s been completely candid with you about everything, how he loved Haley, how he feels he failed her in more ways than her death, and how he loves her still. 
You don’t feel like you’re competing for his loyalty or affection, it’s simply clear that he respects Haley’s memory very strongly. What if you tell him what Jack said, and what you hadn’t said, and he’s furious? 
The door opens downstairs. Hotch calls hello, but with Jack and the baby both sleeping, you stay quiet in fear of waking them. You listen to him do a familiar dance, the click of the safe where he retires his firearms, the rushing water of the faucet as he makes himself a glass of water, and then a second you assume to be for you. 
You shuffle Jack from your chest gently, pulling the baby into the curve of your arm and depositing him with an overabundance of caution into the crib. 
You hurry to the door, finger on your lips, startling your husband on the last stair. 
“I need to talk to you about something,” you whisper. 
He gestures for you to walk back down with him. He’s unperturbed by your worry, two glasses in one hand so he can use the other to feel at your shoulder as you take the stairs in front of him. “What happened?” he whispers. 
“It’s–” You wince, descending the stairs with a distinct sense of nausea. “Can we sit down? I’ll make you something to eat.” 
“I’m fine,” he says, following you to the kitchen, where you sit in adjacent chairs at the dinner table. 
You brace your hands on a placemat. 
He laughs and takes them into his own. “Nothing you tell me is worth all this worrying.” 
“It’s about Jack.” 
His smile fades. “What about him, honey?” 
“We were upstairs… You know how he is, he climbed on top of me and we were cuddling because Noah finally fell asleep, and,” —it’s best to just tell, even if you feel clammy and guilty before you’ve admitted to it— “he called me mommy. I’d never tell him to, I promise.” 
Hotch brings his hands up slowly, yours raising with them where he’s holding your wrists. “What did he say?” 
“He said he loved me. ‘I love you, mommy.’” 
“What did you say?” 
Your grimace is apologetic, eyebrows pinched. “I said I loved him too.” 
“And you’re worried that’s not okay?” You nod. “It sounds to me that he was just telling you how he feels. When you wake him up in the mornings and you tuck him in at night, and you’re the person he goes to when he needs a bandaid, you must feel like his mother.” 
“But I’m not.” 
“No.” His dark eyes are relaxed, his brow only a shade of its usual downturn. “Haley is his mother, and she’d love how you treat him. He will always, always know who his mother is. But if he wants to call you mom, a woman who loves him and looks after him with the same tenderness as you do your own, then I think that’s okay, especially with Noah getting older… How do you feel about it?” 
“I love him.” 
He does that silly smile where he’s more happy than he’ll admit to, leaning forward, pressing your hands to his arm and then his lips. “He loves you,” he says. 
Hotch stands and offers a hug. When you take it, he sways you from side to side. “She really would’ve liked you, honey. It was me who let her down.” 
“But her baby calling me mom…”
“I know. It’s a conflicting feeling.” 
You let out a big sigh and slouch in his arms. You’re warm butter under his touch. He reacts accordingly, bending and cupping the back of your neck. 
“It felt awesome,” you confess. He might as well know. After the remorse, you were happy. Jack must really love you. 
“You’re very, very good to him. Just let him love you however he wants to, and I’ll make sure he doesn’t forget who his mother was, and how much she loved him.” 
You wouldn’t let Jack forget her either. 
Hotch leans away to dot a kiss to your cheek before he hugs you again. “How are they? The boys?” 
“Sleeping. Waiting for you to come home and wake them up. Maybe please don’t wake up Noah, he might sleep through the night tonight if we leave him alone.” 
“I won’t. I’ll see him in the morning.” His smile is audible. “I’m a little jealous, I think. Jack hardly ever says he loves me first.” 
“You clearly don’t cuddle enough.” 
“That,” he says, giving your hip a squeeze, “is a low blow. But I’ll allow it.” 
“You’ll allow it?” 
Another adoring sweep of his arms on your back. “You can say what you want,” he amends. “Thank you for taking care of things while I was gone.” 
He doesn’t need to say thank you, you’re a family, but you appreciate the gesture. “You’re welcome, handsome.” 
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cutielando · 2 days
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puppy ~ charles leclerc
requested by anon: Hi lovely, can I please request something with Charles adopting a puppy with his girlfriend, I just can't get over how cute leo is 😭🫶🏻
a/n: so sorry it took me so long!!
my masterlist
♡♡♡♡♡
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You loved your boyfriend.
Charles loved you.
You were living the life that people could only dream of living. Living with him in Monaco in a shared apartment, you traveled all around the world with him, you had a flexible job. You had everything you could ever want.
Then why did it feel like something was missing?
As you looked around your apartment, the place felt empty.
You got that feeling every time Charles would leave for a race and you wouldn’t be able to join him.
Everything was silent, so peaceful. You loved it most of the time, being a nice change from your otherwise very hectic lifestyle, but it would sometimes become suffocating, being there by yourself.
Which is what you would tell Charles whenever he would call and you would be feeling down.
He had been away for Japan this time, your university classes holding you back in Monaco for the time being. He had called you as soon as he was done with the race, instantly feeling your sadness on the other end of the phone.
“Mon chérie, I can tell you’re not okay” he said, imagining you pouting on the other end of the phone.
“Amour, I’ve told you, I’m okay. Uni is just kicking my ass and my boss is being a jerk more than usual” you said, forcing out a chuckle.
Technically, you weren’t lying. Uni always got more stressful than usual as the summer break was approaching, and it was sometimes hard balancing it out with your job, but that wasn’t the reason behind your sour mood.
You had had time to reflect on your dilemma and had finally come to a conclusion.
You guys needed a puppy.
“Mon ange, you know I don’t like it when you try to lie to me. What’s going on?” he pressed, wanting to make you feel better by any means necessary, even if he was halfway across the world at the moment.
You sighed, closing your eyes and tilting your head back so it was resting on the couch.
Maybe you should have waited to tell him in person, but you figured that he would have more time to reflect on it until he got home.
“We need a puppy” you blurted out.
It was silent on his end for a few seconds. You immediately regretted saying it, your brain started to malfunction.
That was until you heard his sweet laugh through the phone, making your nerves slightly less consuming.
“You scared me so much, amour. Is that what your moping around has been about? Adopting a puppy?” his laughter had now died down, his tone being replaced with a gentle one.
“I just - it feels like there is something missing. We’re happy, we have a very spacious apartment for just the two of us and I get really lonely when I can’t join you for races” you explained, now pacing around the living room as you made your case to your boyfriend over the phone.
Charles listened to your rambling with a smile on his face. He knew how much you loved pets, especially dogs. You had grown up in a house full of them, going crazy over every dog you would bump into on the street.
He loved watching you interact with them, seeing you care for them even if they weren’t your own.
Which is why he had been planning to surprise you with your very own puppy once he got back from Japan.
Joris had taken care of everything, lying to you every time you would get suspicious or whenever he felt like he was about to be discovered.
But luckily for him, you did not suspect a thing.
“Mon ange, why didn’t you say something sooner? You know I would love nothing more than to adopt a puppy with you and grow our family” he said, already mentally coming up with the best plan to surprise you when he got home.
You sighed, realizing that you had been worrying for nothing. You knew Charles loved pets, and you had always talked about adopting one in the future, so why had you been so nervous to bring it up with your boyfriend?
Nobody knew, really.
“How about we talk some more when you get home? I don’t think this is a conversation to have on the phone” you chuckled, not wanting to delve into the topic too deep.
He agreed, wishing you a good night before he hung up.
But, despite what he had told you, he didn’t go to sleep. No, there were more important matters to be handled. Like figuring out a way to surprise you with your new puppy without getting detected. 
He thought it over and over again, and the only answer that he came up with was picking up the dog on his way home from the airport from Joris. He figured there was no need to complicate things, you didn’t like complicated stuff.
The next day, you had woken up to a text from Charles telling you his plane would land in a few minutes time and that there was no need for you to pick him up from the airport as Joris had agreed to give him a lift.
You didn’t think anything of it, Charles always having made it clear you would never have to drive him anywhere, you were his passenger princess.
Figuring he would be hungry when he got back, you got started on a simple but filling breakfast, Charles’ favorite breakfast that you made when he would get back from good race weekends. You put on some music and started cooking, not even noticing the time passing by quickly.
You were in your own little world when you heard the front door open and close, calling out your boyfriend’s name.
“Charles? I’m in the kitchen” you called out into the hallway, returning to flipping the last of your pancakes before turning off the stove.
Charles didn’t say anything, afraid not to disturb the small puppy nestled in his arms and prompt it to start barking. He had discarded his luggage by the door, now only holding the little dog and slowly walking over to the kitchen.
He could have sworn that your reaction to seeing the puppy was priceless and forever imprinted into his brain. The way your eyes lit up and filled with tears upon seeing him was nothing like he had ever seen before.
“You did not” you said, too shocked to even move from your spot.
“I did. I’ve been secretly arranging some things in order to adopt this little guy. We were supposed to get him in a couple of weeks, but when you told me yesterday that you wanted a puppy, I figured I would speed things up a little bit” he explained, walking over to you.
You cooed once he got close enough, gently taking the puppy from him and nuzzling his little body to your chest. There were no words to describe how you felt holding your new dog, the amount of love you already felt for such a little human being. 
The little dachshund puppy looked up at you, its deep brown eyes already having you wrapped around his little finger. You nuzzled your nose with his, internally screaming because of how cute he was.
“What’s his name?” you asked, not even looking away from the little guy.
Charles chuckled, knowing your reaction was exactly what he had been expecting from you. Already doting on the little dog nestled in your arms, like you had had him forever.
“Leo. Leo Leclerc” he answered, watching your eyes light up even more.
“Leo” you whispered, looking down at the newest addition to your little family. “Welcome to the Leclerc family, Leo”
You spent another minute or two gazing at the dog, Charles not moving an inch from his spot as he admired you interacting with the dachshund. He knew, in those moments as he watched you interacting with the dog, that you were the woman he was planning on spending the rest of his life with.
“I’ve never loved you as much as I love you in this moment” you told him, shuffling closer to him and stretching your neck so you can press a lingering kiss on his lips.
“I love you too”
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gglitch1dd · 2 days
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Love is Blind
Midoriya Izuku x Fem!Reader
Original Idea from @koreluvsspring thank you so much love for letting me do this for Izuku.
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Midoriya wasn't even sure how on earth he found himself on the reality dating show but at this point he wasn't even surprised. When your mother is nagging you to get married, you end up doing anything to please her (and maybe even prove to yourself that you can do it). So on a whim here he was.
When he had decided to put himself up as a contestant, it was no surprise that the show took him. When the new Number One hero of Japan says he wants to be part of your show, one does not just simply refuse.
However he had a few criterias when it came to his participation.
In no way shape or form are any of the female contestants going to know who he really is, his real name or hero name. He was fine with them advertising that a hero would be part of the show but nothing more.
No special treatment. He wanted to be treated like every other person on the show. Same amount of screen time, same opportunities, same punishments if need be.
So when Midoriya found himself in the mens section of the facility that was being filmed, he was nervous. The guys were great, some were great fans and others were overall standard people and it was nice getting to know them.
"I really don't know what to expect." Midoriya said as he sat on a chair speaking to the camera in one of his side interviews. "I wholeheartedly just came here with an open mind. If I find her, I find her and if I don't, I don't." He shrugged.
Admittedly he hoped this wouldn't be a waste of time. As much as he loved his job, loved his friends and loved how busy he was as the Number One hero and all the new perks it came with, he was also lonely.
It was a prospect he didn't like to think about since choosing to focus on his career but here he was.
Once the pods were open, Midoriya quickly gave himself the pseudonym Mighty (sorry All Might). He became a fan with some of the ladies but mostly because he could shut up and listen, the moment he started rambling however... then he didn't have many supporters.
But then he met you.
"What is your favourite dinosaur?"
Midoriya paused before chuckling at the question. He leaned back in his couch as he opened to a new section in his notebook. This was a voice he had never heard before. "That's a tough question." He told you honestly.
"You can tell a lot about a person by the type of dinosaur they like."
"Hm..." Midoriya had to think about this question long and hard. "I think Velociraptors."
"Ah so you're a Jurassic park fan."
He couldn't help but laugh. "I can't deny that I haven't watched the movies a couple times, but the movies depict them all wrong. Velociraptors were typically not higher than one and a half meters and had feathers too. They were less than 20kg in weight. Although they were bipedal predators and are said to have run at fast speeds due to their light weight and short stature, they really were not as vicious as they seemed in the movies, unless you were a prey animal of course. That would be pretty unfortunate. But I think an animal like a brachiosaurus could easily survive against small velociraptors. They'd have to be hundreds of them to take down those big guys and-" Midoriya stopped talking when he realised he had once again started rambling. He had probably scared you off. "Sorry I-"
"I agree. The movies do depict them wrong, but then again I don't think we can truly know the truth. Although you did mention my favourite leaf eating tall necks, the brachiosaurus so you get points for that." You spoke up chirply, having followed along with his words. "I'm L/N Y/N! It's nice to meet you!"
Midoriya paused and smiled, genuinely. "I'm Mid- Mighty." He caught himself there. He almost slipped up and gave you his real name. That was a close one. In due time. He let out a breath. "I'm Mighty."
"Hello Mighty." Midoriya could hear the smile on your face.
Since then, he couldn't stop thinking about you, nor could he stop talking to you. You were the first and only person he ever wanted to talk to while in the pods. He felt like a high schooler again, laughing with a soft blush on his face and having serious conversations with you almost as if he had known you for years.
"I mean yah, I try be as close to my parents a possible but sometimes it just... doesn't work out." He heard you say from the other side of the wall. "I'm pretty close to my younger sibling though. We have a lot of fun together, I miss them. What about you?"
Midoriya lay on his back on the couch, his hand stopped writing notes as he moved to look up. He took a moment. "Well it's always just been my mom and I. My dad was..." In jail as a mass terrorist and genocidal maniac who tried to kill him upon seeing him for the first time in 16 years. "Never really in the picture." He decided to say. "But my step dad and I are real close. He's a real nice guy."
"I'm glad you've got him in your life. You talk very highly about him."
"He's... he's given me more than I can ever express." He spoke softly.
"You're a hero right?"
He nodded his head with a hum. "Yep."
"Well... I think its mighty special that a hero is able to still appreciate the ones that brought him to where he is. I think that's mighty sweet." You said, making him smile at your words. Then he heard you giggle. "Hehe, see what I did there? 'Mighty'?"
Midoriya snorted.
He could talk to you about absolutely anything and the both of you seemed just so compatible. You both wanted the same future and had the same goals in life. When he thought of his future, now he saw you. It had just been a little under a week in the pods and he was sure.
It was a weird thing watching other guys come back and say how they proposed to the girl of their dreams they had never seen. But Midoriya could say that he understood.
He understood as he entered the pod in a button down and dress pants despite you not being able to see him. He understood when he crouched down on one knee and took a breath and said. "If there is one sure thing I know about this whole experience, it's you. I've... I've never felt so calm and so happy than when I'm with you. You gave me happiness and... and well... I wanted to ask you if you would marry me?"
You didn't answer immediately which had Midoriya a bit nervous (he was sweating through his shirt) but then he heard sniffs. You were crying. "Yes. Yes I will marry you."
Next thing he knew, he was standing behind the impending glowing doors that would lead to you. The woman he loved. He couldn't care how you looked. Honestly if you were a troll that lived under a bridge, he would follow you there too.
And when the doors opened and standing at the very end of the pathway, your doors opened to and he saw you. Midoriya's pupils blew out as he saw you.
Dear God, you were gorgeous.
Love truly was blind.
-Glitch1d
390 notes · View notes
rimunagenius · 9 hours
Text
It’s Time You Switch
ʚ pairing: Paige Bueckers x reader
ʚ word count: 4.4k words
ʚ prompt: “Fuck your boyfriend, he a bitch. I think it’s time you switch.”
ʚ warnings: RPF!! , smut!!, voyeurism, dirty talk?, face riding, fingering, oral reader!receiving, basically porn with little plot
ʚ rimunagenius speaks: in which Paige turns straight girls ;) i have not written smut since my wattpad era so im sooo insanely rusty but i also have never felt the touch of a woman romantically sooo idek if this will be any good…suggestions are welcome to make it better!! and for future works!!
| Masterlist | Women’s Basketball Masterlist |
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"I don't know what I did to him, though. That's what I can't let go. He's being so dry and cold." You told the team as you did dynamic warm up before practice started.
Coach G just shook his head, listening to all your guy problems. This was just another boy for him to hate on campus. At this rate, the whole male and female population at UConn was on his shit list.
"I say, you dump him." KK said, patting your back mid walking lunge. "He's been doing this for months now, it's time to drop him, girl boo.” You told KK a lot of things. She was just a freshman but she become a quick and good friend.
You met her in a class you had been taking and started talking, soon finding out you were both on the same team. It shocked her, but after finding out you stayed off social media, the press release of her committing was new news. You were a senior and she was a freshman, but this friendship was like you two knew eachother forever.
"Yeah, I agree with K." Paige said, from the other side of you. A soft, comforting smile on her face.
"You know what could fix this? A girls night." Aaliyah smiled, her eyebrows wiggling suggesting you guys go out.
"I know you're not planning to go out, get drunk on the night before a game." Coach yelled from his seat on the bench.
"But Coach, c'mon! My girls feeling sad." Paige feigned a pout, grabbing your shoulders and pointing your face, you pouting your lips and batting your lashes.
"Nah, it's okay. I don't really want to go out anyways. Staying in is the move." You sighed, the stretching finished.
You talked about it all practice—sad about it all practice. After, Paige suggested you come over to her place, a sleepover. You begrudgingly agreed. Telling her she needed to take you home to get some clothes; Paige shutting it down because you could borrow hers.
That was the first mistake. It didn't feel like a mistake in the end but that was the first step to a very confusing day afterwards. The second, sharing a bed with the blonde.
You both decided to lay in her bed, get fat on snacks, and watch all the movies you could before getting sleepy and tapping out for the night. I guess Paige had another tapping in mind.
"You know he doesn't deserve you so why do you stay with him?" Paige disregarded the movie, turning her head slightly to look at you.
"He does deserve me, he's just struggling, I guess." You shrugged your shoulders, dwelling on the fact that you couldn't figure out what he was actually struggling with.
"Fuck your boyfriend. He's a bitch for the way he's acting with a pretty girl like you." Paige got passionate about defending her friends. Especially when someone in their life wasn't treating them right. She was more of a protector. A fierce one.
"Paige, that's a little mean."
"It's true. It's time you switched. I'm telling you, girls are so much less complicated. They're easier to read and better at communicating." Paige smirked to you, knowing you wouldn't shoot for it.
"Please, if I knew how, I would." You rolled your eyes, looking down, shoving a potato chip in your mouth.
Paige's eyes went wide. There's no way you were actually serious. You looked like the straightest of straight girls, a very attractive one. Which is why she thought it sucked you didn't swing that way. "No way, are you serious?" She laughed.
"Yeah, but I dont even think I like girls like that." You furrowed your brows. You never actually thought about it. You had no idea if the "girl crushes" you had were actually crushes.
"What does that mean?"
"Like, I've seen girls and thought they were super attractive. I'd wonder what it'd be like to kiss them, and I used to say i’d treat them better than their actual boyfriends, but I didn't think that far." That set it off for Paige. That's how it started. First you thought about what it'd be like to kiss a girl, then to date, and then to fuck.
"Have you ever thought about dating them?" Paige already knew where this was going.
"Yeah sort of. But I was always with him that it was whatever." You looked to Paige.
"Well it's time you switch." She smiled smugly at you, shrugging her shoulders. "I'm down to show you how." That was the most forward Paige had ever been with a girl. She knew it was swaying you, the contemplation clouding your vision, deep in thought.
"What do you mean 'show me'? Like how to fuck?" Your brows furrowed as you questioned the blonde beside you.
"That's exactly what I mean..." Paige's eyes watched yours, waiting for the green light.
"Okay." Suddenly the air in your lungs disappeared when Paige grabbed your face and kissed you deeply. She wanted this for so long. You and her had been bestfriends all throughout your childhood. She had even told Geno he couldn't give her an offer without giving you one. Your skills in basketball were exceptional, your work ethic and athleticism and ability to work with people around you. You and Paige made a great team.
She had admired everything about you for as long as she could remember. She was just waiting on you. You moaned into the kiss, opening your legs so she could slot her body between yours, achieving the best angle to kiss you.
Something in you felt like this was all muscle memory. Like you two have done this before. Her hands moved to your hips, her grip firm but so soft. You two kicking the snacks off the bed, not caring about the mess that was to be made.
"Imma take your clothes off...that okay?" Paige's lips trailed down the collumn of your neck, moaning at the sensation your body sparked throughout her body.
"Yeah, okay. Please." Instantaneously Paige's fingers dropped the the waistband of your pajama shorts, and the waistband of your underwear. The feeling of lace pulling a groan from the blondes throat. Ridding you of your pants and underwear, her hand grabbed the hem of your shirt—her shirt, sliding it up.
You sat up, pulling it off, panting softly. You couldn't believe this was happening. The least you expected from this sleepover was hooking up with your bestfriend, in her bed, on a friday night. You then grabbed Paige's face, needing her lips on yours like you were a woman starved.
Paige was a sweetheart; a golden retriever, kind, and good person...but when it came to her game, on and off the court, she was literally a cocky fuck boy who could prove they could get into your pants. She was a respectful woman, one of the best even, but the second mutual interest was involved; game over.
While making out, her hand cupping your breast over the padding of your bra, the only clothing you seemed to have on left, she bit your bottom lip, slightly tugging on it with her teeth. Your back arched, moaning at the sensation she was able to wash your body in, she quickly unclasped your bra, sliding the straps off when you were flat on your back.
Having the soft skin of yours exposed, she slowed her movements, dodging your face when you tried to kiss her again. "Show me how he got you off." The sentence shocked you.
"Huh?" You looked at her, her eyes having the same challenging look. She knew she'd do ten times better than he ever could. Plus, it helped that her anatomy and your anatomy were the same...meaning, she knew where everything was.
"You heard me, show me what he did for you, so I can show you that I can do it better." Her long hair falling on her shoulders, she slid her Huskies t-shirt off, leaving her in a black sports bra.
You shifted on the bed, nervous but willing. She already had you naked, you were already so wet so you knew when you try and fail to get yourself off like how your ex did, she'd make it better. Paige always made it better.
You reached your hand down, sliding your fingers through your soaking wet cunt, gathering as much as your slick as possible, gasping softly. The feeling of your fingers ghosting your clit, you remembered that you were supposed to be doing this how he did, so you disregarded the spot your body ached and pleaded for physical contact, and jumped straight to inserting two fingers.
You looked at Paige, a look in her eyes you've never seen before. "Wait, he didn't even—?" She was confused but really focused nonetheless. You knew she wasn't really paying attention to what you were doing, she was; she was literally getting soaked at watching you play with yourself, but she just couldn't take her eyes off your pretty pussy. She would never be your 'friend' again after tonight.
You shook your head at her question and continued in fingering your self, curling your fingers at the right spots, maintaining the even yet somewhat hasty pace. Your panting started to get louder, your eyes fluttering closed every now and again. Slowly coaxing yourself to your high, you spread your legs wider, reaching your hand out, signaling Paige you wanted her to grab your hand.
She placed her hand in yours and she was immediately pulled on top of you, your mouth finding hers. Your hand never wavered in the work you were doing on yourself, which is why Paige swallowed the loud moan induced by your orgasm, as you slowly started to slow the rhythm of your fingers, riding out the small orgasm.
You don't know why you did it, you only were conscious of it after you had placed the fingers that were previously inside of you, into her mouth. Your jaw slack, jus a tiny bit, watching and feeling her lick your fingers, swallowing any trace of your she can hope to find. You couldn’t believe you were behaving like this. So dirty but so willing.
Paige moaned at the action, not trying to deny that what you had done could've made her come alone. She started to drag her lips from yours, to the corner of your lips, to your cheek, all the way to and down your neck, sloppy and lazy but sensual kisses were left in her wake.
She wouldn't dare leave any marks behind, your guys' team would calculate what went down her tonight. So she settled for non-visible hickeys. When her lips met your breasts, she took her sweet time with both. Her tongue swirling around your taught nipple, her free hand kneeding the other.
Your back was already arching off the bed, hands tugging at the sheets below you. The soft cries leaving your lips egging her on.
She moved across the other breast, a trail of purple and red trailing the way, her hand switched places. You couldn't take this...you needed her somewhere else. You loved this but holy was she dragging it out.
Before you could even ask—beg, her to move where you were so desperately wanting her, her hand was already spreading your leg open, lips following a foreign, yet so familiar path, all the way down to the curve of your thighs.
She started slowly, opting to tease you, but also educate you like she promised. You understood the significance of foreplay, hell you craved it in your evidently clear soon to be previous relationship, but you couldn't take the ache your pussy had for Paige. It's like it knew you needed her all along. It didn't help that you hated the prolonged attention, but also loved it. Watching her worship your body was something so unexplainably attractive.
The way she slowly placed soft kisses from your knees, massaging the soft skin of your calf's along the way, all the way up your thigh. The closer her lips got to your center, the more antsy you became. You needed her mouth to connect already. You couldn't take it anymore.
"Oh, my god. Paige...please." You sighed, your panting growing more and more viscous.
"Please what, gorgeous?" Her lips ghosted over your wet folds as she moved to the other leg, now blatantly teasing the fuck out of you, while she smiled and kissed every expanse she could.
"Please just eat my pussy already. I can't take it." You almost cried begging her to finally do something. She had you masturbate infront of her for christ sake.
"Whatever you want." She looked into your eyes, her pupils blown, a blissed out smile and haze on her face. Almost immediately after, her face disappeared in between your legs. Paige licked a stripe up your soaking cunt, from the entrance all the way to the most sensitive nerve ending.
The sound that escaped your mouth was borderline pornographic as the built up arousal finally was being tended to. The feeling of her slick tongue running one more stripe through your folds before swirling around your clit was something you absolutely could not imagine. Your mind in a foggy mess.
"You taste so sweet, baby." The name leaving her mouth ignited fuzziness that you felt in your toes all the way to your scalp. Her voice hoarse, mouth glistening from you, you could never get this sight out of your head; nor did you want to.
"Ohhhh, my god." It came out like a pure cry. The choked moans mixed with tears and strained sobs, elicited a newfound hunger in Paige.
Her mouth doing double time, her tongue swirling and licking perfectly paced, her lips sucking and kissing all the right places at the right time, started to build up the coil in your belly. The feeling growing more and more intense the more she praised you from between your legs. "You're doing so good for me, baby." You couldn't even breathe.
The coil snapping, the tension in your belly now releasing, a gushing mess now painted Paige's gorgeous face, your mouth agape.
You couldn't help but scream...almost. Your moan so loud, Paige covered your mouth with her hand. "Shh, don't want the neighbors to hear." Paige panted softly in your ear, before cracking the signature smirk.
The smugness she had while she saw the aftermath of what seemed to be the best orgasm you have ever had in your life. Your breathing still shallow, your chest heaving, the pattern of the way it rises and falls mesmerizes Paige. Her ego being fed tremendously watching the way you fell apart just by her going down on you.
She couldn't help but want to brag to your ex that he couldn't even make you feel half of what she just did. The accomplishment of getting you to look like this in her bed, your breath fanning over her face as she hovered over you, the accomplishment in having you like this, with her in her bed, was truly a miracle.
Paige loved it. She could go this whole night just fulfilling your needs, showing you everything you missed out on in your pointless one sided relationship. She intended to.
"Oh, my god. That was—" You stopped, your breath finally returning. "That was fucking amazing." You looked at the blonde who seemed to be content watching you fall apart.
The smugness on her face but the adoration of you being here, pure evidence that she was enjoying every second of it. "It was. Didn't know you were a screamer." The cocky Paige returned, forgetting keeping the moment remotely intimate. You smacked her arm that rested next to your body, and grabbed her face and kissed her.
You caught her off guard, her mouth open due to a small gasp, and took that as your chance to slide your tongue in her mouth. You two made out like horny teenagers. You two weren't that far from being teenagers, that was only a couple years ago, but you two made eachother feel like two young kids, absolutely enamored with the idea of each other that you couldn't get off of eachother.
You two made out, you slowly turning yourself so you could be on top. Paige knew what you were trying to do, allowing you to take control for now. You oulled apart, looking down at her, picturing this, saving it for the foreseeable future. Chasing your lips, Paige grabbed your face, pulling you into a deepening kiss. You two literally couldn't get enough of eachother.
Before you could even get the rest of Paige's clothes off, she grabbed your hips that were resting on hers, and pulled them forcefully over towards her chest. You gasped and yelped, suprised at the sudden force she was using. Hesitant to follow, you saw her hungry gaze go between your eyes and your now—again, soaking cunt.
There was no way. "Paige, no. Don't even think about it." You warned, a small intimidating look. It normally had an affect on Paige on the court, knowing when she saw it, you talked a big game and backed it up. But right now, in the bedroom, you were hers and she had the control.
Tonight was to show you what you were missing out on, and how to get a girl going. There was no way she'd let you have the control, no matter how much she wanted it. She'd save that for another night. Maybe she was getting too ahead of herself, but there was going to be another night with you.
"What are you talking about?" The smugness returned, along with a feigned clueless look. You couldn't take her serious with the fact that your thighs were damn near putting her in a chokehold, her hands inching you closer and closer to where she wanted you...where she wanted you to sit, preferably.
"Paige, i'm not about to sit on your face." You tried scooting back, forgetting that Paige was actually stronger than you. The ferocity in which she pulled your hips, your pussy ghosting her lips at the force and aim in which she yanked you, a small gasp escaped your sealed lips.
You yanked your hips back, giving her a pointed look. "I was trying to literally fuck you, not trying to sit on your face. Let me make you feel good, baby." Paige knew she could get away with calling you baby, you probably weren't thinking much of it when she said it. But Paige said it with conviction, just the way you did right now.
The name only egged her on when you used it in this context. The only context Paige wanted to hear it in. "Your making me feel good by letting me make you feel good. I promise i'm fine, I just want you to sit this pretty pussy on my face. Will you let me?" Her eyes sincere, the smirk playing on her lips slowly convincing you by the second.
"You promise?" You whispered, suddenly conforming to the blonde underneath you. Something about the way she talked easily convinced you.
"Yeah. Promise." You stared down at her, unsure. Not wanting to crush her, your thighs being pretty full, the muscle you've built over the years, and just the general size being something you've been insecure about since you were a little girl.  She knew that.
That's why when she saw the look on your face, she kissed your thighs. In whatever spot she could reach. She gave you a reassuring nod, smile on her face. Albeit you didn't know what kind—cocky or comforting. Either way, when she said what she did, you immediately obeyed.
"Sit on my face." You then moved both knees eye level with Paige, falling back slightly, your pussy ghosting her lips again. The second you put your full weight on her face, her mouth got to work.
The sensation and new angle elicited some explicit sounds. 'Didn't know you were a screamer' kept replaying in your head when you tried to quiet down the moans only Piage seemed to be able to pull from you, escaped your lips.
Her hands cupped your ass, pressing your body down impossibly closer and harder into her face. She seemed to be pushing so hard, you were scared you were going to suffocate her. Her tongue teased your entrance, swiftly ghosting in and out of it, before lapping at your folds and clit perfectly.
She ate you like a woman starved. Like if this was her last meal. You had enjoyed every second of this exchange. You reached your hand down slowly, softly moving your hand in slow circles on your clit, overstimulating yourself.
Paige took notice of your fingers now getting to work, a gravely groan reverberating into your wet pussy as she looked up at you, and quickly closing her eyes in bliss. She decided that since you wanted to touch yourself, she'd slide a finger or two into you. To really get you going. Wasn’t the most ideal positioning but she was going to make it work.
Her head bobbed subtly, effectively getting her tongue into the small space where her fingers were about to make an appearance. Inserting one finger, Paige watched, felt, and listened to the way your body reacted to her movements.
Using each reaction to her advantage. The small gasp you let out when she inserted herself into you, the way your breathing reluctantly changed pace, so she inserted another, noticing how your breath picked up. That's when she curled her fingers methodically to the pace she set for herself, matching the pace you set while you continued rubbing circles in your clit.
It didn't take long for Paige to brung you closer to the edge while her tongue picked up the slack for your fingers. You stopped your movements and let her do the work, she could tell it was good by the volume your pants and moans were sounding. She was working overtime while you ran your hand over her hair, eventually looking for another anchor to grip to while you violently come undone by your best friend. "Oh, my god. Right there. Don't stop." You panted, your jaw dropped.
Your legs started to shake, Paige's pace relentless while she finger fucked you in her bed, while she simultaneously ate you out. This wasn't the way you expected to spend your night, and neither did Paige, but holy fuck was it worth it.
"Don't you dare stop—Oh!" The coil snapped once again, a guttural cry and moan left your lips. You swore that any person who was passing by Paige's apartment would've thought you were filming porn. The moans you moaned were insane and absolutely the biggest turn on for Paige. She wouldn't lie and say she didn't already get off on just hearing you.
Yeah, she worked at you, and saw your oh so pretty parts, but listening to the affect she had on you, the comparison made between her and your ex and the ego boost that came with it, were just the perfect amount to get her off on just pleasuring you for the last two hours.
Your breath uneven, slowly moving your legs away from her face, your chest still heaving. She chuckled softly, before looking over to you, while you laid yourself next to her. "That's how it's done, baby." Paige held her hand up, trying to signal a high five.
You looked at her blankly, her seeing the absolute fucked our face you had, and then pulled you closer to her. Your body resting against hers; the stark contrast of your overheated body, compared to her cold and cool body.
The contrast easing the overwhelmed feeling you harbored just a little easier. "You did so good for me, baby. You looked so hot while I made you come. Couldn't believe it." You smacked her chest, feeling a little cringed that she had to see you and all the faces you could've made while you had the most earth shattering orgasms.
"Paige. Oh my god, stop." You laughed, she did too, You two laid there for a minute before she broke the silence.
"You're not going back to him, right?" Her voice now withdrawn from the cockiness and confident undertones, and just pure nerves and concern. She hoped you'd say no. That you'd choose to stay with her, and tell her he was just there until you realized your feelings for her were the same as the ones she's had for you all these years.
"No, I'm breaking up with him tomorrow. You think i'd go back to him, when he couldn't do half the shit you did with your tongue alone? Yeah, right." You looked up at Paige, your bestfriend. You couldn't believe this is what your relationship evolved to in a matter of two hours.
"Soo, that means..." Paige was hopeful. She just wanted you to say what she's been wanting to say for years.
"Let's date. I love you, you obviously love me," She looked away, embarrassed, and playfully pushed you away. You grabbed her arm, pulling her back so she could look you in the eyes. "Do you want to be my girlfriend? Serious."
"Serious. I'll be your girlfriend. Finally." Paige kissed you, slowly. Melting into eachother, the weight of the new relationship status now sinking in. You two were ecstatic.
You decided to clean up, showering, again, her inevitably joining you. When you both settled and were ready for bed. Too tired and fucked out to continue the movie—restart the movie—you two had started a while ago, it was quiet and dark in the room when Paige suddenly whispered, "I knew you weren't straight."
"Paige, got to sleep! Oh my god." You chuckled before smacking her with the pillow under your head.
"Jeez! Sorry! But I called it."
334 notes · View notes
lunajay33 · 2 days
Text
Not the Only One
•🌪️🍂🪵🏹•
Summary: Reader comes from an abusive family and is insecure about it showing up everywhere with bruises, but one night she comes across Daryl who is more like you than you know
Pairing: Young Daryl Dixon x f!reader
Content Warning: Abusive parents
•Masterlist•
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Growing up in a small town in Georgia can have its benefits, close friend group, late night walks, fun memories, but not for some, not for me I get the other side of a small town, the rough crowd and the judgmental stares from the well of kids who’s parents gave them everything they wanted
I never thought there was a problem with the way I lived as a kid but the older I got and realized that not everyone lives with abusive, negligent parents it was world shaking for me and I felt like a complete loser and I still do, I don’t have much some simple clothes and some drugstore perfume and makeup but that’s about it, others girls in my class had expensive name brand everything and judge those like me who didn’t
My dads drunk and takes his problems out on me, my moms a coward and won’t stand up for me so here I am walking around school with a cut down my eyebrow with a nasty bruise forming around
“What happened y/n old man beat on you again” Jessie says laughing as she walks by with her little click, I look back into my locker getting my books for science class sighing not ready for the day ahead full of more comments like that
I walk into Mr.jensons class taking my seat at the back, some people whispering as I walk through the class
“Okay class we have a new student transfering to our class from a different course, obvious people like me more than miss.smith’s music class” he says obnoxiously as the student enters our class
Daryl Dixon he lived a few houses down from me but we didn’t interact much, sometimes I’d see him take out the trash or see him sitting on the doc on the lake behind our houses, it was rumoured that his dad beat on him too but it’s not like we were gonna be friends because we’re abused that crazy…..right?
“You can go sit at the back next to y/n” Mr.Jenson points out to me
He sits down and I can smell his calming aroma, woodsy with a hint of cigarette
“Hi” I smiled meakly
“Hey, ya live on my street don’t ya” he asks slouching down in the chair
“Yeah, I’ve seen you around” so he’s seen me too
“Alright class listen up” the class went on like usual until the bell rang signalling the end of the day, I gathered up all my stuff shoving them in my bag and leaving the class, walking through the hallways heading for the exit when someone runs up next to me
“Hey, ya walking home?” Daryl asks looking down at me
“Oh yeah, I usually like to sit at the doc when I get back, don’t like to stay in the house much”
“Why not?” He asks as he continues to walk beside me back to our street
“I think you know, everyone talks about it” I say motioning to my bruised eyebrow
“They don’t understand, ain’t yer fault”
“It’s just……embarrassing” I say rubbing my arm as a nervous habit
“Yer old man?”
“Yeah, you?” He nods in agreement looking down
“Pretty shitty, wish I could just get out of here or just start fresh here” he hums making my heart warm, finally someone understands how I feel
We got to our street stopping infront of my house
“So ummm I’ll be down at the doc later if you wanna meet me there just to talk or whatever” I say
“Yeah I’ll see ya there” he says heading off to his house a few doors down
I walked into my house hoping nothing happens today, seeing my dad sat on his chair with a beer in his hand watching the tv
I try to walk past him to my room when he grabs my wrist
“Did you pick up the cigarettes from the store like I asked?” His voice is already angry, I completely forgot
“I……I forgot, I’m sorry” I whine as he tightens his grip
“Why can’t you ever listen, you know what this means”
“No please I’m sorry I’ll go get them now”
“It’s too late”
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Sitting on the doc was suppose to be a wind down form the day an escape from hell that is suppose to be a house, instead I’m sat here feeling like I went solar against concrete, my lip is busted severely, by cheek stings, bruises and whips against my back, the hoodie I’m wearing was irritating against my sore flesh
I’d do anything just to go back in time and run away with my sister but I was scared and young and now I’m miserable and constantly afraid
“Hey sorry I’m late” I heard from next to me, too deep in thought to have heard him approach
I kept my head down looking at the water
“It’s fine” I mumble
“Ya okay?” That one simple question broke the damn in me as tears spilled down my cheeks, I turn to him just wanting reassurance or comfort
“I forgot to get a pack of cigarettes on the way home” my voice quivers as he stares at my red cheek and bust lip
“How am I even suppose to cover this up”
“I could go kill him” he huffs anger rising in his features
“Everything hurts” I wince when he places his hand on my back, he pulled back quickly
“Do ya need help?”
“I don’t know how bad they are”
He moves behind me lifting my sweater up to my shoulders, revealing the old and new scars that littered my back with occasionally fresh bruises
“Oh baby girl I’m so sorry” he says under his breath but there was something there in his words that made it feel like he understood this type of beating
“Are they bad?”
“Don’t think ya need stitches but I don’t want ya going back there” he says bringing my sweater back down moving beside me again
“But where am I suppose to go?”
“Old man’s gone for a week, ya can stay at my place”
“Are you sure I don’t want to burden you”
“Ain’t a burden, yer staying with me, come on”
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His house was more or less just like mine but there is no surprise there, our fathers are basically the same, he brings me to his room and it’s pretty normal, some hunting stuff plain brown walls
“Thanks for this” I say sitting on the edge of his bed
“ ‘course, ya need anything?”
“Do you have any painkillers?” He went in his drawer and popped one in my hand, taking it hoping it will ease this discomfort
He jumped on the bed sitting next to me as a comfortable silence surrounds us
“I got em too”
“Huh?”
“Scars, don’t like to show em, don’t like to be reminded”
“I’m sorry Daryl, one day we’ll be happy, one day we’ll get out of this mess”
“Together”
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Part.2 soon working on some other stories!!:)
Taglist: @l0kilaufeys0n7 @stoner420things69 @pinchofthetwd @thestonedwriter @daryldixmedown @deansapplepie @ghostboneswrites2 @superbowlisgay @daryls-wife @pinkratts @daryl-dixons-left-hand @mrrumplebottom @twistedprincess-92 @addi1978 @wongcena @darylspersonalwhore @starrqi @heidiland05 @livlaughlove03
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maxiemclaren · 2 days
Note
Can you please do one where Oscar and Y/N get a cat together? Ty x
The Orange Tabby
Warnings: fluff with a little angst
Pairing: Oscar Piastri x fem!reader
Summary: you try to convince Oscar to get a cat and he caves.
a/n i honestly blacked out while writing this so let’s hope you enjoy!
“Babe please, just look at how cute they are!” you pleaded with the biggest puppy eyes you could muster, showing him all the cats that were up for adoption at your local shelter. “y/n, love you know how much traveling we do there is just no logical way we could have a pet right now, I’m sorry” he says pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, searching your face for a reaction, you just sigh and fall into his chest and mumble out “fine, I guess one of us has to be realistic”
Over the next few weeks you keep trying to bring up adopting a cat practically anytime you could. When he was working out, making meals, practicing on the sim, even some times when he was in meetings you would find ways to mention the beautiful orange tabby cat that they recently had received. In the kitchen Oscar was making dinner for the both of you, when suddenly you mentioned the orange cat again. “Enough y/n! I understand you might want a cat, but have you thought that maybe I don’t want one!?” Oscar yelled out of frustration, you stood there almost paralyzed, sure you’ve had your fair share of disagreements but he never raised his voice towards you. “Yeah, I guess I never thought about that, sorry Oscar.” you said and retired to the bedroom for the rest of the night. A sigh left Oscar, feeling regretful of yelling at you, he knew better than to come in the shared bedroom when you were both on edge.
In truth Oscar was trying to research how you guys could bring the cat along with you for the races, well along with getting the adoption papers in order, apparently he was a very popular cat having around 15 other people wanting to adopt him.
Oscar kept tip-toeing around the whole cat disagreement for the next week and just blissfully listened to explain why you were so hell bent on getting one. “Well my grandmother had an orange tabby cat when I was younger and he was my favorite thing” you said feeling emotional. He nodded along and held your hand while you explained, he decided enough was enough and he wanted to tell you the good news. “Love, I need to tell you something” he said practically bursting at the seams, you look at him to proceed with what he needed to say “I actually put in adoption papers for the orange tabby as soon as you showed him to me” he blurted out in a rush. “You’re kidding, Oscar Jack Piastri. You better not be messing with me” you said pointing a stern finger at him. “I’m being 100% serious my love, we pick him up next week” 
Next week rolls around with lightning speed, you two have been out almost all day making sure you have everything you need for your cat. Except there was one problem, you couldn’t decide on a name. “Ooh how about Oliver, hmm maybe Thomas” you said very enthusiastically. Oscar just laughed “Seriously Thomas? What is he an old man? A tank engine train?” you huffed back racking your brain for a name you could both agree on when all of a sudden Oscar had a light bulb moment. “Wait what if we named him Papaya?” You thought about it for a moment and came to agreement on the name. 
It has been the best 4 months with Papaya by your side quite literally, it was like your grandmother’s cat was reincarnated into him, he never left your side making Oscar a little jealous that the cat was getting more attention than him. “But loveee, he gets cuddles all day! What about me?” Oscar said pouting, you just chuckled and opened your arms for your clingy boyfriend. “Have I told you that you’re the best boyfriend?” you said while running your fingers through his hair while he laid on top of you. He mumbled out “Yes, at least twice a day since we got papaya” Looking up towards you, pure love behind his eyes. 
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lookninjas · 3 days
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IT'S TIME
(again)
Pick a song from a bad description! You do not have to recognize the song to choose it (although, tbh, at least one of these should be instantly recognizable to the new wavers). Go with what is funniest or what sparks curiosity or just makes you feel some type of a way. Go with your gut.
At the end of the week, I will take all the songs and put them into a playlist, from the song with the least votes to the song with the most votes. If you would like to listen to the playlist when I'm done, and don't feel like finding the post again, please leave a comment or put it in the tags, and I'll tag you when the playlist is up. If you really can't wait a week to find out just what that mix of cumbia and Sandstorm is all about, shoot me an ask and I'll answer.
And please reblog! I like sharing the cool music I find with other people because I am extremely enthusiastic about it! But if you guys don't reblog, it's very difficult for me to find people to share things with. So if you have buddies who live for the synth, please reblog and have them see the poll.
(Also, there will probably be an expanded version of the playlist that comes out around the same time, because it was the only way I could a) cut songs off the original list and b) stop myself continuing down the rabbit hole of finding more music to actually do the poll. So it'll be like, twice the synths at least.)
(Also also, every song is a legit banger, so you will want that playlist, I'm just saying.)
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angel5ofp0rn · 1 day
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Are the kids parent trapping john and the reader? 😭💞
Oh, they absolutely are 🙂‍↕️
(u totally cured my writers block i’m gonna give u a lil kiss)
PT 1 / PT 2 / PT 3 / PT 4 😋
ExHusband!Price x f!reader
*one of my biggest icks when i read stuff like this is when the writer names the kids and the names are ugly but i did that here and im so sorry. a thousand apologies. 😔
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You and John stood in the mudroom, playing a divorced couple who had no lingering feelings.
Acting as if you didn’t spend all weekend weak in the knees at the sight of him walking around the house shirtless in his grey sweatpants like he never left.
Pretending that John didn’t ask you to take him back.
Like you didn’t fuck. Like you didn’t even kiss.
“I’ll bring the kids by next weekend, then.” You say casually, arms crossed as you lean against the archway.
John just nods as he pulls on his boots.
“Gabriel has a… a parent-teacher meeting on Wednesday.” You mention, trying to sound nonchalant. “They’re usually just an in-and-out kind of thing, we look at his artwork and whatever. It’s nothing serious… but if you wanted to go-”
“What time?” John asks as he stands up from the bench.
“5pm.”
John nods again. “I’ll be there.”
You chew your lower lip as you look at him. Why is him wanting to be a good dad so…
“Gabriel, Linnie! Come say bye to dad!” You call over to the playroom where the children were.
The little ones race around the corner in no time, crashing into their dad and clinging their little arms and legs around his legs, sitting on his boots.
“We don’t want daddy to go!” The youngest pouts.
“Why can’t dad have another sleepover?” The oldest whines.
“Right, you two. Stop giving mummy a hard time.” John puts on the stern dad voice for a moment.
The kids whine and moan but eventually listen to their dad and un-cling themselves from his legs.
“Since daddy had a sleepover with us this weekend, you two can have a sleepover with him next weekend. Deal?”
“Will you come to daddy’s sleepover too, mummy?” The youngest asks innocently.
You blush.
John grins, his eyebrows raising.
“No… I…”
“Please come to daddy’s sleepover!” The youngest begs, puppy dog pout and all.
“You and daddy can have kissies and we won’t even look this time.” The oldest offers earnestly.
You hear John stifle a laugh.
You shoot him a glare.
“We’ll talk about it later.” Is all you can offer. “Give your dad a big hug so he can get going.”
They listen, for once. They each give John and big bear hug and in return receive a kiss on the head.
Then they both stood to the side and watched John and you, as if they were waiting for something.
“See you Wednesday, mummy.” John grins as he opens the door.
“Goodbye, daddy.” You roll your eyes, a dumb smile on your lips as you close it after him.
“No kissies?” The youngest child frowns, looking to her big brother in confusion, her little hands up in a shrug.
The older child shrugs as well, as if he’s just as confused by this.
•••
When Wednesday night rolls around you start to regret inviting John to Gabe’s school.
You just went two whole days without him. Things were finally going back to normal.
You walk in to the school with your oldest holding one of your hands, you other hand supporting the youngest on your hip.
The three of you wait around by the front doors for a while.
5:00
5:05
5:23
“Maybe daddy got busy with work.” You force a smile as you try to reassure your five year old. “Let’s just get in there, I wanna see your classroom!”
“I wanna wait for dad.” Your oldest crosses his arms.
“Yeah!” The youngest follows suit, crossing her little arms as she stands next to the oldest.
Why did you even tell them that he was coming? You glance down at your phone, still not seeing any notifications from John.
“Look, let’s just go in. Your dad is-”
“Daddy!” The two children squeal and giggle when they see John walk through the doors. They go running, being scooped up into his arms.
“You’re late.” You cross your arms.
“Showed up, though, didn’t I?” He smiles, though you have a feeling there’s something hiding behind it.
He sets the oldest to his feet and the rest of you follow him to the classroom. The youngest squirms out of John’s hold so she can run around and touch… well, everything.
“Mrs. Price!” Your oldest’s teacher greets you cheerily. “Good to see you again!”
John quirks an eyebrow at you.
Mrs. Price?
You kept his last name?
Of course you pretend not to see his reaction to the news.
It’s not that big of a deal, really. You just didn’t want to do the extra paperwork.
“Mr. Price, I don’t believe we’ve met.” The young, pretty teacher smiles as he extends her hand to John.
The comment, though true, hurt John. It really made him realize how much he’s been missing out on since the divorce.
“John.” He corrects her as he shakes her hand, grinning.
“John.” She repeats softly, as if trying to remember it.
You swear you see her cheeks turn pink.
If it wasn’t for the kids being here, you’d fucking-
“Mum!” Gabe tugs on your pant leg.
You turn to see what he was pointing at.
Behind you was a wall full of artwork, mostly of little stick people or random scribbles. Above all the art were the words “Our Families”.
“Aww, which one is yours, monkey?” You smile, lifting your oldest so he can point to his artwork for you.
You follow his little finger to a white paper with a house shape containing four figures.
Above their heads are written mum, dad, me, sissy.
“John,” you call over your shoulder. “Come look at what Gabe drew.”
John is by your side in a second, your youngest in his arms.
“You know, he used to draw two houses.” You glance at John.
“Huh…” John nods, taking in the artwork. “How ‘bout that…”
•••
“Thank you for coming with. It meant a lot to Gabriel.” You tell John as the two of you stand between your cars in the parking lot.
“Not a problem, lovie.” He smiles softly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
You look down at the snow under your boots before looking back up.
“Miss Halle has the hots for you, huh?” You ask with slightly bitter tone.
“Does she now?” John grins, his head tilted to the side. “Didn’t notice.”
“Like hell you didn’t notice. She was all, ‘Ooh, John.’” You mimic. John laughs.
“Jealous, are you?”
“No.” You frown, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “It was just… unprofessional, you know?”
John just grins.
There it is.
Fuck, he missed that. Missed knowing you cared.
“Drive home safely, lovie.” John says finally.
You nod, turning to get into your car, but you’re stopped by a hand on your arm.
John turns you around and plants a kiss to your lips.
You just let him, knees weak, his hands cupping your face.
He has you. You’re his…
The two children in the backseat of your car, watching through the window from their car seats, turn to each other and smile triumphantly.
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Ok I have so many thoughts about painland ending up canon or not and I. Just.
Listen I AGREE that their bond goes beyond being romantic or not. It's obvious, it's beautiful, I love it and I love them and their friendship and I truly do think it is important that media has this kind of relationship portrayed.
But.
But.
I would be lying if I said I wouldn't be disappointed if it doesn't turn romantic. It involves a lot of things.
1: I want Edwin to have that. He'll still be happy without it, yes, but god can't he have that? He's been through so much. He had a speedrun through his sexuality issues and confessed in hell. Like wtf. Can't he have that???
2. Bisexual Charles would actually be so important to me. And yeah he can be bi and not in love with Edwin but come on lol. The thing is, there's not many bi men in media. Even less bi men figuring out their bisexuality. Even less bi men figuring out their sexuality when they were raised in the 80s and knowing their best friend is in love. Do you see how many layers exist here? How amazing his story could be? Charles has so much we still don't know about him. And yes, I would like that one of those things could be something I relate to. Besides trauma. Call me selfish. And like he's so bisexual coded it would be offensive for him to be straight I'm sorry.
3. They exist in other universes. Let them be platonic there. Let them be romantic this one time.
4. I know falling in love with a straight person is a very common story and I don't think it's wrong for it to happen in a show, but honestly, it's not what I sign up for when I'm watching queer stuff. Think Our Flag Means Death. It probably changed my brain chemistry because anything less than that gets really hard to swallow. I know, we all have queerbaiting trauma, and I know this wouldn't be the case, and it never claimed to be something as queer as OFMD. But I got so attached that... Well, I wouldn't stop watching if this happens, but it wouldn't sit well with me. It's a bitter feeling, you know?
5. They didn't have anything be explicit, but come on, they did set us up. Charles got jealous at Monty, and only Monty, for that matter. I wouldn't say his thing with the Cat King is necessarily jealousy, more like protectiveness, but that can be disputable. And both George and Jayden said more than once that Charles' response to the confession let things open. So I mean if that door wasn't closed, then please don't close it now! The road until things happen can be long, dramatic, tortuous, whatever, there's many ways to tell a love story. But if I'm sitting for it, then I don't want to get shot in the face later on (unless it's for plot reasons which ok).
6. Have I mentioned that bisexual Charles
Anyway I feel kinda bad for wishing so much they get romantic because I see and agree with the whole platonic discourse. But yeah those are all the reasons why I can't stop myself. Have a good day everyone
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Pregnant with Patrick’s Daughter (Challengers)
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Description: Y/N is pregnant with Patrick’s baby but she’s with Art.
Word Count:986
Request: "Maybe something with a pregnant reader and like Patrick’s the dad. It could be fluff or angst, idk I’m just curious to see how the dynamic between Patrick and like his child would be lol!”
Author’s note: I added a twist in it. Hope you like it!
Y/N looked down at the pregnancy test in shock. Her and Patrick used protection or did they? She honestly couldn’t remember but this was bad news. She was with Art and fucking Patrick. Though she knows that it’s not Art’s kid because he’s been too busy with Tennis to even fuck her. Art would know that the kid wasn’t his, especially if the kid looks like Patrick. Truth be told, Y/N loved Patrick and she also loved Art. It was hard for her to choose between them when they both wanted her as well. She looked at the engagement ring that was placed on her finger. She twirled it and played with it as she thought of what she was going to do. 
Art was practicing for his match today so Y/N called Patrick. The two weren’t friends anymore which made the situation worse. He thought she wanted to have sex again so he kissed her hard as soon as she opened the door. She pushed him back and he gave her a confused look. “We need to talk.” She said, he nodded and followed her to the kitchen. “Take a seat.” She demanded. “Ohh I love it when you get all dominant with me.” He smirked. She gave him a look and his smirk dropped. “Listen I don’t know what to do about this or why I'm even telling you at this point but I’m pregnant.” His jaw drops at her words, “And it’s yours because Art and I haven’t had sex in awhile.” He got up from the chair and pulled her in for a hug. “That’s great. I’m gonna be a dad.” He whispered. She pulled away from the hug, “Patrick, I’m with Art. He’s not gonna be happy about this.” Patrick didn’t really care. He hated Art for taking Y/N from him. That pathetic bastard got everything he wanted. “Well he’s not gonna wanna be with you since you’re carrying another man’s baby. My baby to be exact.” She glared at him. Of course he’d be happy about this. He hated Art. 
“What?” Art screeched as he stood up from the couch. It didn’t make sense why Patrick was here but now it did. “Art, I’m sorry this isn’t how I wanted you to find out.” She tells him. Patrick had a proud smirk on his face. “Found out what? That you’re fucking my ex best friend and having his baby?” Y/N looked at him with a guilty expression. She really did feel bad. “Art it’s hard for me.” She said with tears in her eyes. “You’re crying? You’re fucking my ex best friend and you’re crying?” He yelled. “Art, I love you both.” Patrick didn’t know that she loved him, nor did Art. “What?” Patrick whispered at her confession. “I love you both and I know that you guys hate each other but I can’t live without you guys.” She said, tears still streaming down her face. Patrick stood up and looked at Art who looked so broken at the news. Y/N’s eyes flickered between the two of them. “Art, please say something.” She begged her fiance. He shook his head and laughed. Both, Y/N and Patrick looked confused. “Get the fuck out!” He told them. “Art, please-” “Get the fuck out!” He screamed at her. 
She laid in Patrick’s bed with tears streaming down her face. Her belly bigger and full with Patrick’s baby. It’s been 6 months since Art kicked her out. He hadn’t spoken to either of them, not that she thought he would. He had the right to be upset with her. She cheated on him and got pregnant. But it still hurt her a lot, she loved them both and it was selfish that she felt sad because she had Patrick. But she wanted both. The front door opened and she quickly wiped her tears. Patrick made his way to the bedroom to see Y/N and her tummy full of his baby. He smiled at the sight. She saw him enter the bedroom and smiled at him. He came and collapsed on the bed next to her. He turned towards her and stared at her stomach. “I can’t wait til she’s born.” He said and placed his hand on her tummy. She smiled and agreed with him. She placed her hand on his and the baby kicked. They both gasped and looked at each other. This was the first time they baby kicked for Patrick. Tears started forming in his eyes as he smiled. “I finally felt her kick.” Y/N nodded and ran her fingers through his hair. 
Y/N watched as Patrick gave their 4 year old daughter a racket. She chuckled as their daughter kept dropping it but everytime Patrick gave her it again. He was so patient with her and so sweet. It made Y/N’s heart melt. She giggled as their daughter almost hit Patrick with the racket. He looked at his wife and smiled at her. She got up from her seat and walked over to them. “Try not to kill daddy, sweetheart.” She joked. Their 4 year old giggled and gave the racket to Y/N. Y/N took it and melted when she ran into Patrick’s arms. Patrick smiled and hugged her back. Y/N felt happiness in her life, ever since their daughter was born. She didn’t think of Art anymore, unless she saw him on the news. He was a pro tennis player like Patrick and he married Tashi Duncan. She was happy for him, truly. “Hey uh I guess now would be the time to tell you that I’m playing in the challengers and Art will be there.” Her smile dropped at his name. She had a bad feeling about this and almost told him not to go. But she would be by his side with their daughter to support him. She wouldn’t let Art being there ruin this for them.
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missmatchablossom · 5 hours
Text
summary: you finally got hired to work as a teacher for your dream school, jujutsu high. everything was perfect until you ran into gojo satoru, your first love and heartbreak.
a/n: angst + fluff, female reader. this is the first time I've written a story more on the angsty side, so please let me know if you like it : ) I was feeling angsty after listening to eternal sunshine and bam this story suddenly came to me
tags: @kenqki @sad-darksoul
~
When you caught a glance at that familiar shade of blue, you froze. That specific hue was a color you avoided at all costs, the color of heartbreak and dreams you never followed.
He looked at you, and suddenly you were 18 again. It was simultaneously the best and worse year of your life; the year you fell in love with Satoru, and the year he left you. 
Your heartbeat felt sickening in your own chest as he walked towards you, his eyes widened and jaw slacked as if he were in a trance. Like he hadn’t expected to see you again.
It’s not like you thought you’d see him again either. You had told yourself that even if you did, it wouldn’t hurt, because you’d moved on. It had been years since you gave up on him, so you should be feeling nothing as your first love came to a halt in front of you, gazing at you as if you were the only thing that mattered to him.
It didn’t feel like nothing, though. It felt a whole like despair, relief, and joy warring with each other, causing your fingertips to tremble as if your body couldn’t decide which emotion to settle on.
“Long time no see, Gojo,” you said, attempting to offer a warm smile. Though the tremulous note to your voice must have betrayed how you were truly feeling.
He frowned ever so slightly when you said his name, like he wasn’t used to you calling him by his last name. It was formal and cold - when things between you two used to be anything but. 
“You’re here,” he said, though it sounded like he was saying it to himself rather than talking to you. 
“Ah, Gojo. I see you’ve met our newest hire. She’ll be working with your students for the summer, I imagine you two will be working together closely,” the principal said. But Gojo wasn’t looking at him. You still felt the heavy weight of his gaze, like he was scared you’d disappear if he looked away.
“Why don’t you two grab lunch together? Gojo can catch you up on his students,” the principal said. So why did your body go rigid at his harmless suggestion?
“Sorry, I have to make a phone call during lunch! Gojo, feel free to email me any details I need to know,” you said quickly, smiling before you darted towards the courtyard.
You cursed yourself for running away, like a coward. What was there to be afraid of? He was someone you loved years ago, and time washed away any lingering feelings you had for him…right? 
At least that’s what you’d always told yourself. But maybe deep down, you feared some of those feelings would never go away. And that they’d definitely resurface if you let yourself be near him, if you let yourself remember how much he used to mean to you. How badly he hurt you.
You shook your head, hoping the crisp morning air would wash some sense into you. This position was your dream job, and you weren’t gonna let your past demons take that away from you. You could be civil, you could work with him like the mature adult you were. It would be okay.
~
“I wonder if our new teach would tell me where she gets her lipgloss?” Nobara asked aloud, walking in step with Yuji and Megumi as they filed out of the classroom.
“She’s really pretty,” Yuji said, smiling cheesily. It was a buzz amongst all the students actually, how beautiful the newest teacher was. The students warmed up to her quickly, captivated by her knowledge and how easy she was to talk to. 
“Gojo always looks like he’s in a trance whenever he sees her,” Megumi said, making his two companions snap their attention to him.
“Do you think they’re dating?!” Nobara nearly yelled, her eyes widening comically.
“Maybe not. They both look kinda sad when they look at each other and they think the other person isn’t looking,” Megumi noted, looking deep in thought.
“Woah, you’re so observant. Maybe they’re exes, I heard they knew each other when they were younger,” Yuji said.
“Eh? No way sensei could pull someone like her,” Nobara said.
~
Two weeks have passed since you began teaching, and you loved it. Plus, you’d managed to have as minimal contact with Gojo as possible. Things would be fine after all.
You stepped into the teacher’s lounge, eager to grab your bag and head back home now that the day was over. But your bag wasn’t on the hook where you usually hung it up. When you turned around however, Gojo was leaning against the doorframe, taking up nearly the entire frame.
“Can I help you with something, Gojo?” you asked politely, willing your heart to settle down at his proximity.
“Can we talk?” he asked, and there it was again. The inexplicable feeling that swarmed your senses whenever you heard the sound of his voice, no matter what he was saying. Your traitorous body responded to it no matter how much you told it not to.
“Um, tomorrow might be better during our free period! I’m actually looking for my…” you began, stopping your sentence as Gojo used two fingers to effortlessly lift your heavy bag.
“I’ll give this back to you when you agree to have dinner with me. Tonight,” he said, flashing a boyish smile at you that was oh so painfully familiar. 
“You can’t be serious,” you said, crossing your arms as Gojo took another step towards you. He was so close, and much taller than you remembered. He seemed to take up the entirety of the room you were in, making it harder to breathe and think clearly.
“I thought you knew me better than that, tea. I absolutely am,” he drawled, and the butterflies in your stomach swarmed at the mention of his old nickname for you. Hearing it used to fill you with love and light, because he began calling you the endearment after learning how much you adored tea. He’d often show up at your door with your favorite drinks, happily indulging in your obsession. 
You blinked the memory away, refocusing your gaze back to the man in front of you. 
“This isn’t funny,” you said, reaching towards your bag. He lifted it up and out of your reach easily.
“What isn’t funny is how you’ve been avoiding me since you got here. Why can you barely look me in the eye?” he said, the slight hurt in his voice hitting your heart. Your eyes darted around the room in a panic before you answered.
“Can you really blame me? We don’t have the best history,” you said, your voice coming off harsher than you intended. 
“That’s what I want to clear up. Just hear me out this once, please,” he said, his tone softening as he spoke. You hated it, how quickly you could feel yourself giving into him. After a beat of silence, you spoke.
“Just this once,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. 
There it was. That familiar, triumphant upturn of his lips. 
~
You second guessed your choice as you walked towards Gojo’s car - a sleek, navy luxury car you remember he’d gotten for his 18th birthday. But there was no way he didn’t have other cars by now, so you couldn’t help but wonder if he picked this car today on purpose.
He swiftly opened the door to the passenger seat, allowing you to slip in before he slid into the drivers seat.
There was something undeniably intimate about being alone in the car with him. Being in such close quarters meant you could smell the cologne clinging to his skin, the minty remnants of the mints he always carried with him. You felt bespelled watching his long fingers wrap around the wheel, blushing as he wrapped his arm around your headrest and leaned towards you to look behind him as he backed out of the spot. 
A memory flooded towards you. Of a freshly 18-year old Gojo excitedly picking you up in his shiny new car, nearly getting you into a car crash as he carelessly spun the wheel in his excitement. You’d given him a firm talking to about him being careful, and he smiled at you sheepishly before he walked you to get ice cream. 
The sound of buttons clicking pulled you from your reverie. You watched wordlessly as Gojo set the seat warmer to the lowest setting and turned the ac up to 71, the exact settings you used to switch them to whenever you were his passenger princess.
“Is that still how you like it?” he asked, casting you a quick sideways glance before returning his eyes to the road. You wondered if you imagined the hopeful note to his voice.
“Yes,” you answered quietly. 
Oh , I definitely still like it, you thought, eyes roaming across Gojo’s figure as he drove. His seat was leaned back to make room for his long legs, and he kept one hand on the wheel as he drove with the elegant ease he must’ve developed in your time apart. It was stupid, how attracted you still were to him.
You didn’t miss the way Gojo glanced at you ogling him, the corner of his lip tipping up like it so pleased him.
~
You followed Gojo into a gorgeous restaurant that you were undoubtedly underdressed for. A smartly dressed man greeted the two of you immediately, leading you to a table right in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows. It offered you a gorgeous view of the skyline, the soft glow of the sunset making the silverware sparkle. 
You couldn’t help but look around in confusion at the quietness of the restaurant - save for the nice host, you were the only ones there.
“I booked out the place for the night. So we could catch up in peace,” Gojo said easily, as if that were something normal to do. You couldn’t say you were too surprised though, as he had the same penchant for spending and the fortune to back it since he was younger.
“Of course you did,” you said, shaking your head as you smiled to yourself.
Gojo leaned forward in his seat, studying you like you just performed magic.
“I’ve missed that smile of yours,” he said softly. It wasn’t fair, the way the last bits of sunshine of the day lit up the gold  flecks in his eyes. The way his hair nearly shone silver, making him look otherworldly as he told you he missed you. 
“I don’t know what to say to you, Gojo,” you said, forcing neutrality into your tone. But as soon as you spoke the words, you could hear how sad they sounded.
“Do you hate me?” he asked, sounding like his younger self once more. 
You met his eyes, releasing a deep breath as you did your best to offer a smile.
“I don’t think I could ever hate you,” you admitted, watching the way his shoulders eased ever so slightly.
“But you hurt me,” you said, voice barely above a whisper.
“I was ready to stick out long distance when you moved away. You stopped answering my calls, responding to my letters. I tried reaching you for months before I gave up, Gojo. There was no goodbye, no explanation. What was I supposed to think? How do you expect me to greet you with a smile now as if nothing happened?” you said, your voice cracking towards the end. 
“I know we were 18 and stupid, but I…” 
I loved you. You were everything to me. And no matter how much time had past, how much you dated around, no one ever compared to you.
You shook your head, unable to get the words out.
It would forever be fresh in your mind, the day you found out Gojo was being shipped off to a different country by his stupid family to train. 
The devastation was overwhelming. You curled up in your room, crying into your pillow as Gojo sat silently on the edge of your bed.
“Do you really have to go?” you sniffed, though it didn’t sound like that, with your throat clogged with tears.
Gojo laid beside you, pulling your back to his chest as he held you and buried his face in your hair.
“I don’t have a choice, tea. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his voice breaking off at the end. You turned around, wrapping your arms around him as he held you brusingly tight. You rubbed his back as you felt his tears hit your shoulder.
After the cry you both needed, you faced each other silently, as if you were committing each other to memory.
“I won’t give up on us. I’ll call you everyday to bug the hell out of you,” he said, giving you the first lopsided smile of the night.
“For how long, though?” you said sadly, feeling the hope leeching out of you with each word you said aloud.
“For as long as it takes for me to become the strongest. And for you to become the teacher you’ve always wanted to be. I’ll come back for you,” he promised, lacing his long fingers through yours. There was hope alight in those eyes of his, convincing your own hope to stay.
“You promise?” you asked, sounding so much more like a young child than you wished.
“I promise.” he said, and you kissed him then. There was something so magnetic about him, the type of person that made you want to believe anything was possible. But you hadn’t known that would be the last time you kissed.
You had no way of knowing that your boyfriend would keep up with his promise for a month, and then suddenly leave you with nothing. He stopped responding to your letters, stopped his calls, stopped reminding you how much he loved you. The only time you ever heard about him was when the news featured his growing talents.
The sound of Gojo’s voice ripped you away from the memory.
“You have every right to be upset with me,” he began, his cerulean eyes betraying his grief.
“Was there someone else?” you asked before you could think better, cursing yourself.
“No,” he said forcefully, wincing like it hurt him for you to think that.
“There was never anyone else. Never,” he said, and you couldn’t help the relief flooding your chest.
“They got in my head about you. Convinced me that I was holding you back, that you could never focus on school enough to become a teacher good enough to teach at Jujutsu High if you were in a long distance relationship with me. I thought I was doing what was best for you,” he said, his voice low and regretful as he spoke. 
The man across from you blurred as tears filled your vision. You spent months agonizing over the possible reasons he would abandon your relationship, and your young, heartbroken self was convinced it had something to do with you. That he found someone, and suddenly you weren't his cup of tea anymore. Never did it cross your mind that he thought he was doing you a favor by ghosting you.
“God, Gojo. Why didn’t you just talk to me?” you cried, doing nothing to mask the grief in your voice. 
“I knew you’d tell me that it was incredibly stupid of me. And I know it was now, but back then I thought it would be easier if I made the choice for you. You deserved to have your full focus on pursuing teaching,” he said solemnly, lifting a hand towards your face as if he were going to wipe your tears, but laying his hand back down like he thought against it.
“You’re right, that was incredibly stupid of you,” you said, heaving a deep breath as your swiped the last of your tears.
“But I get why you did it. I just wish you would’ve included me in that choice, because you know what I thought? I thought if you could discard me, discard us that easily, that I must’ve not meant as much to you as you meant to me. That you didn’t love me as much as I loved you,” you said shakily, a single traitorous tear falling down your cheek.
Your emotions overwhelmed you as you saw his eyes begin to shine with unshed tears - a sight that hurt you as much as it did when you were both 18.
“I never stopped loving you,” he said, his voice hushed as he made the confession.
It felt like you were no longer in your own body as emotions assaulted you all at once. Happiness, relief, confusion, devastation. They warred with each other, and you didn’t know if the burst of nerves you were feeling was panic or excitement.
“You don’t mean that. Maybe you still love who I was when I was 18, but things are different now. I’m different,” you said, watching as Gojo shook his head softly.
“You’re right. You have become even more beautiful than I remember,” he began, and you knew you had lost. This wasn’t a game, but somehow you still lost.
“I’ve seen the way you work with the kids. I’m in awe of how confident and capable you’ve become. But I’ve also seen what hasn’t changed,” he said, leaning towards you with the light back in his eyes.
“Your tenacity. Your kindness. Your intelligence. Your drive. The way your eyes light up when you teach, the way you see the best in people. That’s how I fell in love with you, and I know thats still there,” he said, looking at you with the kind of reverence you forgot existed.
You closed your eyes as you failed at calming your thunderous heart. 
“I can’t do this, Gojo. I can’t put myself in a position to be hurt by you again,” you said, casting your eyes down in your lap. You couldn’t bear to see defeat in his eyes.
You jolted as you felt the soothing, painfully familiar touch of his hand over yours. 
“Look at me,” he pleaded softly, coaxing your eyes back towards his. When you met them again, they were filled with warmth, and you believed it. That he still loved you.
“You don’t owe me anything. I’ll stay out of your way if that’s what you want. But I’m not taking back what I said. I’ve loved you since before you were mine. And I always will.” He finished you off by lifting your hand to his lips, a gesture you were still a used to be a sucker for.
~
In the days that followed, Gojo consumed your every thought. It didn’t help that you worked so closely, and it especially didn’t help to see how good he was with the students. He goofed around with them more than a normal teacher would, but he taught them earnestly. No matter how much they complained about his antics, you could tell your students loved him.
It also didn’t help when he began leaving your favorite milk tea on your desk before the start of every school day, earning you a “wow teach, you must really love that tea shop,” comment from Yuji.
It was slightly embarrassing, but you couldn’t deny how much it brightened your day to see that cup of tea sitting on your desk, knowing how much Gojo still thought of you. And it didn’t stop at tea.
Over the course of the next month, your favorite flowers began showing up with your tea. Sometimes, instead of flowers it was your favorite candy. Gojo never lingered around to hand them to you himself, just giving you sweet smiles and waves whenever you locked eyes. You knew it was his way of giving you space to choose, and no matter how cheesy it was, it was working.
~
It was about 3 months after that dinner that you found yourself sitting with the principal for your quarterly one-on-one. You were pleased to hear the praises of your work and the positive feedback he’d received from students regarding you, but something in particular he said had you shaken up.
“I knew you and Gojo would work well together. You both had very moving reasons for wanting to teach here,” he said casually.
“Moving reasons?” you pressed, feeling like you were on the verge of something.
“Oh, yes. I was highly impressed by your years of dedication and experience, you were an obvious choice. But Gojo didn’t have much teaching experience when I hired him, it was really his reason for teaching that sold me on him,” he answered. And you didn’t know why, but your pulse grew uncomfortably quick.
“He told me that teaching helped him feel close to someone he loved. And that person taught him how powerful a good teacher could be,” the principal said. There was a beat of silence, followed by the screeching sound your chair made and you sat up suddenly. You apologized and excused yourself, rushing towards a certain office door.
Your movements were too quick for your thoughts to catch up. You just knew you had to see him.
He wasn’t in his office. Not in his classroom, not in the teacher’s lounge. That sickening panic began invading your senses, reminding you that it wasn’t the first time you desperately searched for Gojo and couldn’t find him.
But you pushed past it and kept walking. You walked until you reached the outer edge of campus, spotting a flash of silver hair atop a hill that overlooked the school. 
You ran towards it like your life depended on it, huffing and puffing until you finally locked gazes with the most beautiful eyes you have ever seen. Though the eyes that normally regarded you with warmth were unusually widened with concern as Gojo ran towards you.
“Hey, whats going on-”
“Why did you become a teacher?” you said, struggling to catch your breath. Gojo looked stunned for a second, staring at you silently as he waited for you to continue.
“Why did you decide to work for Jujutsu High, out of all the high schools in Japan?” you continued, watching as his expression turned pensive. But his eyes shone with all the words he’d yet to say.
“I didn’t intend on becoming a teacher. I just gave it a shot one day, because I knew how passionate you were about it. And I loved it,” he said, staring out wistfully towards the lecture halls.
“As for why I picked Jujutsu High,” he began, turning his body towards you again. He walked to you, stopping until there was barely a step of space between your bodies. 
“I picked it because I knew this was your dream school to work at. I hoped I would see you again if I worked here,” he admitted, smiling sadly. You shook your head in disbelief.
“This was my dream school when I was 18. What if I changed my mind and worked somewhere else? What if I didn’t even become a teacher?” you said frantically, searching for a crack in his resolve.
Gojo reached out, cupping your cheek in his hand. You had no choice but to tilt your head up to meet his, feeling new emotions flooding you at the look in his eyes.
“Doesn’t matter. The thought of seeing you again is what has kept me going all these years. Even if I mean nothing to you now,” he breathed, removing his hand from your cheek. He stepped away from you, giving you the space you realized you no longer wanted.
You didn’t know if you wanted to laugh or cry at this new revelation. But you did know one thing; you wanted Gojo Satoru. You wanted another shot with him.
Before you could talk yourself out of it, you launched yourself at him, wrapping your arms around him tightly and burying your face into his chest. He smelled like mint and summer and everything good with the world as his arms immediately came up to hold you to him.
He released a shaky breath as he held you, like he couldn’t believe he’d get to do it again.
“Of course you still mean something to me,” you whispered through tears you didn’t realize you were shedding. Gojo gently pulled back from your hug, capturing both your face between his hands. He swiped his thumbs gently against your tears, that reverent, warm gaze back in those eyes of his.
“What should I make of that, tea?” he asked, tucking an errant strand of hair behind your ear. You realized how much you missed his touch, how you’ve longed to feel his smooth, porcelain skin against yours again.
“You’re gonna have to work reallyyyy hard if you want me to fall in love with you again,” you said, smiling as his eyes widened and his jaw slacked.
Liar. It wouldn’t take much at all.
“You’re giving me another chance?” he said incredulously. You nodded shyly, smiling as Gojo awarded you with the most brilliant, heart-stopping smile. The kind that crinkled his eyes at the corners, the kind that stretched his cheeks, the kind that you had no choice but to mirror.
The breath left your body as Gojo lifted you up by your hips, swinging you around in a circle like the last scene of a Disney movie where the prince and princess reunited. 
It felt like a weight was released from your shoulders as he spun you around, the two of you laughing like teenagers again.
“Thank you,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head.
~
“They have to be dating, there’s no way they’re not!” Nobara exclaimed, walking to get food with the other first years after class.
“Gojo sensei follows her around like a puppy. I could actually see hearts in his eyes when he looks at her! I swore I even heard her call him Toru,” Yuji said, him and Nobara nodding to each other intently.
“Maybe. Our new teacher has been looking really happy lately,” Megumi said.
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luveline · 18 hours
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how’re eddie and roan doing??🫶🏻
(step)mom!reader, 2k
Sometimes you know you’re not good enough for Eddie and his daughter.
It’s a pinprick pain in the same place. The tiniest fear turned to heat.
“I’m gonna get you!” he warns.
“No, you’re not!” Roan stands at the other side of the room. With the door at her father’s back, she has no proof to substantiate her claim, but she makes it anyway. “You’re slow!”
You sit on the end of the bed with one leg hanging off, a socked foot brushing the carpet. Your legs are aching and the bottom of your spine feels bruised, so you aren’t joining in tonight. You watch them glare and giggle at one another.
Your head hurts between your eyes.
Eddie makes a ‘scary’ face and runs across the room to grab her. She squeals in terrified delight and races for the bed, climbing up behind you and over it, swapping places with him easily, or so she thinks. She’s slower than he is, and can’t escape his grabbing hands as he leaps for her on your bed, flattening your stepdaughter into a pancake.
“No, no,” she laughs beneath him.
Eddie braces his arms either side of her. “I told you’d I’d get you,” he says in a menacing voice, like a character from a movie, he can do a hundred different impressions. “You’ve stolen your last Twinkie, child. Be prepared for retribution.”
“I hate retribution!” she shouts.
Eddie laughs like a kid. “You’ll have to learn to love it.”
He grabs the end of her shirt, tugs it up, and drops his face into her stomach to grow the world's most aggressive raspberry. Roan screams the house down, laughing and shrieking as the vibrations tickle her skin. Eddie takes another big breath, lets it out against her bellybutton, even as Roan’s knees come up and jab him in the arm. “Dad, oh my gosh, stop!”
He stops. “You surrender?”
“No.” A third huge raspberry gets pressed into her tummy.
“Give up,” he sing-songs, “you know you can’t defeat me, little Munson.”
“Y/N, please help me,” Roan says, half crawling under Eddie’s weight to grab your arm. “Please save me.”
Your smile is two shades off, but she doesn’t notice, and you wouldn’t want her to. “I can’t, princess, only a knight can save you now.”
Eddie blows a raspberry on her tummy, then her neck. She hates that even more than the tummy ones and flings herself out of his arms with breathless laughter, the urgency of knowing you’re going to be killed by such horrible, painful, excruciating affection. “You,” she says, taking deep breaths as she slinks down onto the floor, “are the worse dad. Ever.” She laughs like taffy. “I’m listening to my body and it says I need some soda.”
“You can have a capri sun,” Eddie says firmly.
She rushes away, runs down the stairs, and it’s all Eddie can do to constrain his usual warning, you can tell. “She’s gonna fall down them,” he says, batting the hair out of his eyes, “and then what will I do?”
You smile weakly. “I don’t know, teddy. Guess we’d have to roll her around in a wheelbarrow for a bit.”
He clambers onto his knees beside you. A spiral curl falls into his eyes. Everybody’s pretty when they smile but Eddie’s a heartbreak when he’s upset, when the corner of his mouth twitches wanting to pull down and his eyes lose their mirth. “Hey, what’s wrong?” With a little more pep, “Are you tired? Hungry?”
“Sorry.”
“You haven’t done anything wrong, so I won’t accept it.” His hand hesitates by your leg. “What’s not okay?”
You shake your head, not wanting to look at him anymore. He’s prettier than you are, with a better heart. He’s a great father and you’re a shitty mom. You have less practice than he has, sure, but you can’t do anything right for Roan lately, you mess up her lunch and forget to buy her yoghurts when you’re coming home even though Eddie called you twice to make sure you got them. He didn’t even get mad. If he asks you one more time what’s wrong, you’re gonna burst into tears.
He doesn’t ask.
Eddie wraps an arm heavily over the back of your shoulders and neck. The other vys for your hand in your lap, his knuckles brushing against your thigh. “You’re not feeling up to it, is that what it is? Maybe you’re tired,” he suggests, with all his usual tenderness. You’re struck with a memory of him when you’d first started dating, how awkward he could be and how he’d shoved it aside when you had one of your worst days at work. He’d surprised you outside, Roan waiting in his backseat, promising to take you home and make you a home cooked meal. You’d eaten it under his arm like this.
There were moments before you’d been his girlfriend where you worried he wasn’t gonna let you have him. That he wasn’t gonna want you, that you’d move on from each other and have to pretend it never happened. But he’s whispering in your ear, hand latched onto your arm and rubbing circles into the tired muscle there without thought. “You can tell me anything,” he’s saying, “you know you can, just tell me what’s bothering you, don’t like it when you’re quiet…”
“Just had a bad day,” you say, tight and squeezed, so clearly evident that you’re gonna cry.
“At work?”
“All day.”
“Why? What’s bad?” he asks.
Nothing, you think, nothing’s bad, nothing is different than usual, but you feel awful. Like your hearts trying to invert itself in your chest, an upset with notes of panic.
“You know what I think it is?” he asks when you don’t answer, his demeanour dipping further and further into tenderness. “I think you didn’t eat enough at dinner, and you didn’t get enough sleep last night, and now you could use a shower and a hug and maybe a little time to yourself. When was the last time you had an hour for you?”
Your eyes crinkle tightly, your mouth twists. You get that weird rush of tingles all over your face and the heat of collecting tears. “It’s not like that,” you insist. “I love you, I don’t want time away from you, I swear.”
“I don’t want time away from you.” He kisses your cheek, twice, a third time, each one with more pressure than the kiss before. “I just mean… I don’t know, baby, I just thought you might be dealing with a lot.”
The worst thing bursts out of you, because you need him to tell you it’s not true. “I’m such a bad mom.”
The crying is unfortunate and immediate, your shoulders seizing under his arm. Eddie could tell it was coming, you’re sure, he doesn’t baulk, he never does.
“You’re not a bad mom, you’re a great mom,” he says, followed by a great wave of shushing.
“I’m awful, I’m supposed to be so much better, I can’t even remember her snacks.”
“Snacks are a really huge part of being a mom,” he says, “but she doesn’t care. She forgave you the moment you said sorry. You think she cares about her yoghurts? That’s not why she sits there waiting everyday after school, is it?”
“You asked me to get them and I forgot.”
“Well, should we call the cops now or later?”
“Eddie.”
He ushers your face into the crook of his neck. “I’m sorry, but you haven’t done anything that would make you a bad mom.”
You’re not Roan’s natural mother, you didn’t carry her, and so you find yourself in a privileged position. She treats you as she would a mom, she calls you mommy every day. You’re still letting her down.
“I love you, and Ro, and I wouldn’t be with someone who doesn’t love her, but you know… you really– you give more effort than we ever asked you to. You’re amazing. I never could have imagined getting to be with someone I love, and who loves my girl like she’s their own.” His murmuring takes the wryness of someone who knows what they’re saying is immeasurably corny, and he doesn’t stop. “She doesn’t know how lucky she is, but I do.”
“She deserves more.”
“She deserves you. You love her.”
You scrub your face, hiding from him behind your fingers. He waits in the quiet, now rubbing your back in large passes of his hand.
“Is that the only thing that’s making you like this?”
“I just feel like… everything I do, I could do better. Everything. And lately I feel so ugly. I thought this stuff would go away,” you confess, letting your hands fall away.
“I don’t think worrying ever goes away. Everybody worries about something.”
He ushers you back, the arm that warmed your shoulders dropping, his hand reaching instead for your face. He thumbs at tearstains and your damp top lip. “Please don’t cry,” he says, “you’re not ugly, you’re the most beautiful girl in the world. You’re killer, you always have been, but it’s my fault you don’t know that. I don’t tell you enough.”
He must tell you everyday, some days he tells you ten times or more. Still, it’s nice to have him say it, to place the blame of your insecurities on him, to try and make it his problem and not yours. It’s extremely loving, if extremely untrue.
“Sorry, Eddie. I think you’re right. Think I need to sleep, and, I don’t know. Stop feeling sorry for myself.” You smile weakly.
“I don’t think that’s what it is. If you need me to tell you what I think about you to feel better, I’ll do it every hour of the day.” He beams at you. “I hate when you cry.”
You huff a laugh. “I wasn’t doing it on purpose.”
“No– No, I don’t mean it like that. Don’t make me an asshole. I’m happy to see you smile again.”
“You give a good pep talk.”
“Can I give you a kiss now, is that alright?”
“If you stop being so nice after.”
Eddie turns his face and kisses you soundly. His hand climbs to your neck, his index finger draws a short, light line up your throat as his lips move against yours, and curls into itself as he pulled away to stroke gently under your chin. Then he gives you a shove, forcing you to lay down.
“Cheer up, dummy. You’re a great mom and you’re gonna be the best wife. Chill out.”
You catch one of his mean hands to hold to your tummy.
He sits there with you for ages. Five minutes turns to ten, then ten to fifteen, nothing else said, but his hand unmoving where you’ve put it.
“Ro!” he calls eventually. “Where’d you go, bub? Are you okay?”
Her mouth is obviously full when she calls back, “I’m okay!”
“That rascal is eating my Twinkies,” he says.
“Go stop her,” you say, pinching his fingers between yours playfully, softly, one at a time.
“We’re having time to ourselves.”
“I don’t need time away from her.”
“I know. But you need time to lay down without somebody bugging you to play, or watch her do a handstand. She’ll come back as soon as she’s hid the evidence, anyways.” He rolls his eyes. “Like I won’t notice.”
You crawl towards him and curl around him, locking him in place. “Thank you for looking after me.”
“It’s literally my favourite thing to do.”
Your front to his back where he’s sitting, your face against the back of his hip, you kiss his t-shirt. He makes a soft sound, breathing out, his hands covering your arm where you’ve hooked him at the waist.
more eddie, roan and reader
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kausstar · 2 days
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ᯓ ✶ DATING / GENERAL HEADCANONS ◞ kid .
headcanons + ask tags female! reader. nsfw + sfw content. black reader in mind but anyone can read. talks of trauma (his mothers death). kissing. him coded things. some modern au while others are set in the movie. little to no smut added. ꒰ please forgive me 4 these headcanons cause they’re basically just be rambling about him, it’s not formal… at all ꒱
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⟣ having kid as a boyfriend would be so fulfilling but deathly worrying. he’s so attentive (just as you are to him), kind, giving, gentle, and heartfelt.
worships the ground you walk on. full hands and knees type worships.
he definitely uses those big eyes to his advantage whether he knows it or not. feel like you’ve told him about it but he continues to deny it.
saves up his money from the tournaments to not only get a gun but get you something. like a bracelet or something memorable.
greets you bloody, dripping with sweat and dirt with a closed mouth, tired smile on his face every time he comes home to you.
even comes home with small groceries that you said you needed to pick up the day after, just cause it was “on his route,” quoted him, even though he most definitely had to cross some streets and walk a little longer to get it.
doesn’t sleep a lot so listens to you breath most nights (no matter how weird it sounds). enjoys it though, makes him feel comfortable.
definitely the type to kiss your hand and wrist. goes along with the worshipping part.
doesn’t really talk much. you know he has so much to say but he doesn’t say much of it. especially when it comes down to his feelings towards certain things.
he’s easy to read though. since you’ve been in a relationship you’ve realized how important it is to just let him be quiet and watch his eyes and behavior.
makes little jokes here and there, once he’s comfortable. especially if you’re already the playful type, yeah he’s make some sarcastic jokes.
feels embarrassed about his hands at first. he most definitely felt ashamed of them and lied about what happened for the first couple weeks of your relationship.
ends it telling you the truth late at night when he can’t sleep once he realizes that he’s comfortable enough w you and he’s iinnn looovvveee.
likes to lay on your chest and let you play with his hair. side note: i just know his hair is sooo soft but is almost all the time sticky and sweaty.
thinking about how he’d love hugging you after having a panic attack. like he’s breathing heavy, arms around you tight.
feel like if you ever gave him something for like luck or just a small gift he’d take it everywhere and/or wear it everyday.
also something that’s soo him coded is having a picture of you in his wallet. like the cutest picture ever on earth, taken by him of course.
thinks you're the best thing that has happen to him in a long time and he adores you.
will just stare at you without you knowing (while you’re focusing on something else) and go “you’re gorgeous.”
there’s no doubt in my mind that he wouldn’t look at another woman like he looks at you. he wouldn’t dare even share a glance to them.
⟣ during his missions, he wouldn’t get you involved unless you wanted to be.
he would consider it for a little, just because you want to but deep down he’s just wants to say no and that be the end of it.
losing you scares him and to put you in the position where he would lose you is the last thing he wants to do.
when he leaves and doesn’t know if he coming back he says, “i’ll be with you forever soon.” before kissing your lips.
adding on to the gift one, he’d even carry it during his extreme antics. can’t help but think about him waking up after being shot, at the temple, and looking around for it (if it’s not on his person).
“the picture… that was in my pocket.” he’d ask quietly to the keeper. they point to the small bed side table, kid hadn’t taken note of before. he lets out almost a sigh once he finds the picture, but can’t help but worry about how you’re feeling. a frown slightly shadowing his face. “she’s beautiful,” the keeper comments.
when they put him on the news as a wanted terrorist, and even after, he stayed away, trying to keep you safe.
⟣ in his community, he’s seen the small kids grow up and older adults have seen him do so, so he’s very particular with who he introduces them to.
and let’s say he doesn’t hesitate all that much to do so with you.
i feel like the kids would warm up to you somewhat quickly.
feel like they would give you little trinkets or flowers they found, just cause.
if you play with them and kid witnesses?? he’s not gonna say it, he swears up and down it’s the cutest thing he’s seen in his life (gets baby fever).
⟣ in the sheets, he prefers sex to be passionate and loving. feel like he fucks you like it’s the last he’ll ever see you, every time.
feel like he’d like to rough with you sometimes. maybe if he’s stressed and he always asks if you want it rougher.
he talks you through it. like my god. but like really sweetly.
he’s a tit man! just feel like he’s too shy to look at your ass but definitely not shy enough to look down your top.
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 2024 kausstar — ( pinned post ⟡ masterlist )
— pls don’t use my headcanons for your own work. i’ve seen that a lot and it’s rude.
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elly-grace · 3 days
Text
His world
Idk what to name this one lol also not edited at all
Pairing: Joe burrow x reader
Warning: not eating, mean comments
Word count: 1176
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The day started off like any other day. Joe wakes up to the sun shining through the window, then gets ready for practice. After Joe is ready he wakes you up with a good morning kiss, then after a short conversation heads to practice. This was normal, it was the status quo, it was routine.
But the status quo was broken after Joe left for practice, you felt off. You felt like crying, the hate from Joe's fans was really starting to get to you. There have been so many rumors about you and Joe recently. The main three were; cheating allegations, an engagement, and pregnancy. None of which were true, you would never cheat nor would Joe. You and Joe have been together since freshman year of college. Neither of you ever thought of cheating on the other in all the time you've been together. There's no engagement, at least that you knew of. But the pregnancy rumor hurt the most, you knew why it was being thrown around. You had been gaining a little weight, which you were self conscious about.
The comments flowed through your head.
‘She's so ugly! Like gross.’
‘She’s getting really fat, must have had to get pregnant for Joe to stay with her sorry ass.’
‘Joe can do so much better than her’
You felt the tears well up in your eyes.
“What if Joe leaves you?”
With that thought the floodgates were opened. Part of you knew that Joe would never leave you, he loved you with his entire heart. His world literally revolved around you, he didn't know how to do what he loved without you in his life. You two have been part of each other's lives since birth. Robin and (your mom) had been friends since childhood, which forced you to be friends. Joe was the built-in best friend, always there for you, and you were the same for Joe.
The other part of you thought the comments were factual. With you gaining weight you've been having troubles feeling comfortable in your body. It didn’t make you feel ugly just different. You knew Joe could have literally anyone he wanted, he could do better than you.
You try to calm down and take a few breaths coming back to rational.
You walked to your closet and found your oversized hoodie and a pair of leggings to change into. Then sluggishly made your way down the stairs then into the kitchen. Making your way to the fridge, you open it but then the fat comments come to your head. Deciding you would just skip breakfast you close the fridge. You check time seeing it was almost 9 which meant the other WAGs would be calling you soon. As if on cue your phone rings, it was Jess, Sam's fiance.
“Hey, are you coming out with us today?”
“Hey Jess. I think I am going to stay home.”
“You sure? Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m just not feeling good today.”
“Okay, call us if you need anything.”
“Okay, have fun!”
You said then hung up.
You started to do some house work around the house. You cleaned the entire house, starting in Joe's office and finishing in the basement. When you finished cleaning it was already noon meaning Joe would be home soon. You head to the kitchen to start making lunch for him, deciding to make a chicken caesar salad. You finished plating the food as soon as he walked in the door. He made his way to the kitchen and saw you and moved towards you to give you a kiss.
“Hi, baby. Have you been crying?” his eyes were fixed on your doleful looking face.
“Maybe.” you just shrugged, “it doesn’t matter.” as tears weld in your eyes.
“It does! It matters, why are you crying?” he said in a voice the told you he wasn’t going to stop until you told him.
“I’m getting so much hate. People say I'm ugly, fat, and you could do better than me. Which don’t say the last one isn’t true.” You looked down. Joe instantly made you look back up at him by putting his fingers under my chin. Noticing that my hair was messy and all over he moved some of it out of the way.
“Listen to me please, I love you, only you. You are beautiful, I don’t care that you're gaining weight, it means you're healthy.”
Your stomach starts to growl. Joe gives you a sad look.
“When did you eat last?”
“Yesterday”
“When? Cause you barely touched your dinner.”
“Breakfast was the last full meal.”
“You need to eat.”
You sighed but you would do anything for him. He was the love of your life.
“Okay” you said and started walking to the fridge when he grabbed your arm and pulled you back.
“Wait, I'm not done. I’m never going to leave you, never let those comments get to your head.”
He gave you a passionate kiss, then walked away. A few seconds later he comes back with something in his hand.
“This is definitely not how I wanted to do this but.” He spoke getting down onto one knee.
“Joe?” You were shocked.
“Y/n m/n l/n, I can not fathom my life without you in it. You’ve been here since day one, literally day one. You're the only constant thought in my mind. Every Injury, every bad day you’ve been there. You're it for me, it’s always been you. It took us 18 years to finally get together but I knew in middle school when that guy broke your heart. When I saw you crying I wanted to beat him up for hurting you. Now here we are 9 years later, I don’t think I can spend another moment of you not being mine forever. You are my world, my best friend and hopefully soon my Fiancé.” The tears that have been welling in your eyes finally fell.
You nod “yes”
Joe slides the ring onto your finger and stands and gives you a hug and then a kiss.
“I love you Joe”
“I love you too Y/n. I’m going to address the fans about the hate today when I go on ‘New Heights’.”
“Thank you.” You gazed at his face with his beautiful smile plastered upon it.
“How about you come with me?”
“Will Travis and Jason allow that?”
“They will, they’re pretty laid back.”
You nodded and soon you were in joes car with him.
“Welcome to the pod Joe, I hear you got some exciting news” Travis said
“Yeah, as of today I am an engaged man.”
“What, congrats man!” Jason yelled.
“Thanks guys, but I’d also like to address one more thing before we start.”
“Yeah go ahead.”
“So my fiancé has been receiving some pretty brutal hate from some of my fans recently. I just want to say that she is beautiful the way she is, and I love her more than anything in the world. Please stop hating on her.”
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Requested by: @funnyjb
Hope you enjoy!
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Text
The Man 8
Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character: mob!Lloyd Hansen
Summary: a demanding customer complicates more than your work life.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️
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You gag into your hand, shaking. You gurgle and shake out your fingers, the motion of the car adding to your sickness. The man beside you growls. 
"What the fuck is your problem?" 
"Eeek, it's so gross," you drag your tongue against the roof your mouth, like a llama about to spit, "it tastes so bad!" 
You give another repulsed noise and shudder. The salty, sticky, sweaty flavour stains your mouth. You feel like you can even smell it. 
"You don't think it tastes gross?" 
"Do you think I taste my own cum?" He snorts. 
"Like I said, the internet--" 
"Maybe you should cut that out and grow up. You might not be knee deep in shit if you did." 
"I-- me. Sir, you're the one--" 
He reaches over and flicks your throat, right in your esophagus, and cough in pain as you fold over. 
"You think your funny? We'll see who's laughing soon enough," he grits as he slaps his hand back on the steering wheel. "Come into my town and.... bullshit... laughing..." 
He rants under his breath as he drives on. You feel the daggers he sends in your direction as he drives. You'd rather he focused on the road because he just blew a red. 
"So... if you're not the mayor..." you begin as you sit up. You see your reflection in the side mirror; yikes.  
"Don't fucking start," he warns and points a finger, hitting the wheel, "I swear you want to die. Don't you?" 
"Mayors don't talk like that so... no," you frown. "Look, Fl-- Lloyd," you enunciate slowly, "you keep saying I should know who you are but I don't, okay?" 
"Are you going to keep talking?" He grumbles. 
"Sorry, sorry," you rub your neck, your throat still throbbing, "I'm... trying." 
"Not hard enough," he sneers, "all you need to know is to shut your mouth and listen. Got it, sweet lips?" 
You nod and cross your arms, "got it." 
He sighs and eases off the gas. You sit forward and crane around. Where the heck are you? You've never been to this end of town. 
"Sit back," he shoves your shoulder so you hit the seat, "can't see through you despite the empty space in your skull." 
You curl your shoulders in and lower your head. Your adrenaline slowly recedes. Oof, that hits hard. Not worse than anything you've been told before but having a moment to think about it, about everything that's happened on the last few hours, it doesn't feel good. 
You languish in the silence and watch the blend of brick and pavement through the car window. This is just another I told you so. Your parents will be all too happy to laugh on your face. And those old friends who kept you around to make themselves feel better. 
He huffs as he slows and rolls up to a large gate, "come on, cheeks, don't get all pouty now. The fun part's not even begun." 
You lean forward to see beyond the gate as it opens at the touch of his phone screen. You can't help but feel awe at the sprawling yard and towering modern mansion. These places only exist on screens. 
"Aw, baby face, you're seeing all sorts of big things today, huh," he scoffs. 
You don't react. He sways dangerous between menacing and mocking. He might not have told you outright who or what he is, but you can guess by his flagrant threats and even more exorbitant wealth. No on is that cocky or that rich through innocent means. 
He rolls through and the gate shuts without prompt. Like a motion sensor or something just as fancy as the rest of this place. You wonder how long it takes the army he no doubt employs for the task to trim and style the lawn. You almost understand why he was so finicky about his coffee. Almost. 
Yet that glimmer of defiance needles in the back of your head. If he's so rich and better than you, why wasn't he hitting some high end place where they infuse their coffee with diamonds or whatever? You suppose he might enjoy feeling like a giant as he walks among the anthills. 
Figuring out this man won't do you any good. Even if you could. None of that matters. You've stepped on his toes and he's not going to let yours go unstomped. 
He pulls in along a row of egregiously expensive luxury cars; one for seemingly every day of the week. It wouldn't surprise you. Well, you’re in such a stupefied state, nothing can. 
His seat belt repeals sharply and he swings open the driver's door. You jolt back and look around. Do you get out too? He slams the door and your doubt is quashed as he taps on the window with his knuckles.  
You undo your belt and feel around the door. Where the heck is the handle? These things have to be so sleek and sophisticated that you can never figure anything out. The door opens before you can find the release and you look up sheepishly at Lloyd.  
You get out and step aside as he shut the door with a flick of his wrist. You peer around and twiddle your thumbs. What exactly happens now? 
You stop short as he heads toward the stone steps along the house's facade. You're struck by a startling epiphany. He might be right about you in some ways. How did it take this long to realise?  
You've been abducted. 
He stops at the door and looks back at you, "look, honey bun, I'm getting fucking tired. Stop pussyfooting around and come on." 
"Um, sir, F--Lloyd," you put your hands up, "Mr. Hansen, so, when do I get to go home because this feels kinda... entrapment-y." 
"If I have to drag you," he snaps. 
"Alright, alright," you keep your palms put and scurry forward, "I'm just asking questions. It's been a strange day." 
"Fucking tell me about it," he mutters. "Ah, ah, sweet lips," he puts hisbarm out to block you from the front door, "rule one: beyond these doors, you're naked. That's it. Full access all the time." 
You double take. Full on Three Stooges pantomime. You nearly fall on your ass. 
"Wh-at?" Your voice catches. 
"If I have to keep repeating myself--" he warns. 
"But what if I get cold?" 
"Oh my fucking god," he grabs you by the shoulders and turns you to face him, "I should fucking break that jaw." 
He claws at your shirt and rips it up your body. You flinch with the force of his rude undressing. You squeak as he untangles your tee then shoves down your sweats, nearly taking your undies with them. He snaps the elastic with his index. 
"Everything, baby girl," he demands and glares at you, crossing his arms. His cheek twitches and his jaw squares. Without the lip fur he might be decent. 
You wiggle free of your pants and step out of them, then your panties. Your bra gives you some trouble as one of the hooks is bent. As you stand naked out in the summer breeze you feel strangle calm. It's kind of freeing. 
You look at him and find him eyeing you up and down; that's a little more oppressive. You make a face. "Shoes off or..." 
"Everything. Fuck, you gotta ruin it with that mouth," he barks and turns to strut through the door, "...drive me fucking insane...for what...pussy?" 
You stare after him and exhale, stepping over the threshold. A lot has happened and you still haven't got your head around it all. Maybe it's better that way.
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