#<- me after I wake up in the morning with bad bedhead but have to go somewhere | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

salfishersface · 1 year ago

Note

Hey! I saw your fics and I really liked them 😊💖

I was wondering if maybe you could make a part three to baby fever where reader finds out they actually are pregnant?? I think it'd be really fun to see, only if you want to of course!

Have a good day/noon/nights 💗

Baby Fever Part Three || Sal Fisher

Synopsis - You and Sal find out you're finally pregnant.

Warnings - NSFW.

Notes - All characters are aged 18+!

Word Count - 1.9k.

{Caffeinate Me}

Part One || Part Two

Waking up nauseous wasn’t unusual for you, especially when you hadn’t eaten since the early evening before. You thought nothing of it, just ate some food and went about your day ignoring the sickness. Even after a few days of feeling nauseous, you put it down to a virus or some bad take-out food. Then other symptoms started: tender breasts, cramping and obscure food cravings. But yet again, you didn’t think anything of it. You just put it down to your period, after all these symptoms weren’t uncommon for your cycle. It wasn’t until you were adding some appointments down on the calendar did you notice that your period was actually three weeks late. Your cycle was usually like clockwork. It started on the same date every month, so for it to be late was out of the ordinary. You and Sal had been trying for a baby for months now, making love whenever you could, sometimes even multiple times a day to increase your chances of getting pregnant but to no avail. You tried your hardest not to get excited when you saw the calendar, not wanting to get your hopes up and mourn a baby that never even existed when your period inevitably came but you couldn’t help it. You ripped the calendar off the apartment wall and rushed into yours and Sal’s shared room, not caring whether you woke Henry and Lisa up.

“Sal! Sal! Wake up!” You shouted, shaking him. Sal groaned, turning over to you as his eyes fluttered open. Even in the mornings when he had ‘morning breath’ and bedhead, he was still the most handsomest man in the world to you. He lifted a hand up to cup your cheek and smiled softly at you.

“Good morning beautiful,” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes with his free hand.

“Sal! This is important,” you whined.

“What is it?” Sal asked, finally sitting up in bed. You thrusted the calendar in his face and pointed at the date, but he didn’t understand what you were trying to tell him. “What is it?” He asked, tilting his head to the side.

“My period is three weeks late!” You exclaimed, a huge smile on your face.

It took Sal a few moments to comprehend what you were trying to say, but when he did he immediately jumped out of bed. “You’re pregnant?” He asked, voice filled with excitement.

“I don’t know for sure,” you said, voice turning solemn before you perked up again. “But there’s a good chance!”

“Well, have you done a test?”

You shook your head. “No. I wanted to do one with you, but I couldn’t wait until your alarm once I realised.”

Sal nodded and smiled, grabbing his boxers and pyjama pants off the floor and slipping them on. “Well, let's go!” You nodded and grabbed Sal’s hand, practically dragging him to the bathroom. Once you were in, you closed the door behind the two of you as Sal opened the cabinet on the wall that contained all sorts of toiletries: including pregnancy tests. Shakily, he handed one to you. You took the test and watched as Sal took out the box to look for the instructions.

“What are you doing?” You asked, tilting your head to the side.

“Looking at the instructions,” he said, eyes scanning the words written on the back of the test box.

“We don’t need instructions Sal,” you said, a slight chuckle in your voice. “They’re pretty straight forward. I pee on the stick and it tells me if I’m pregnant or not.”

“But the lines are confusing,” Sal said, furrowing his eyebrows.

You shook your head, smiling. “No they aren’t. One line for negative, two lines for positive.”

“Okay. One line for negative, two lines for positive,” Sal repeated. He watched with intrigue as you pulled your pants down and sat on the toilet, placing the stick between your legs. After a few moments, Sal spoke up. “Why aren’t you peeing?”

“I’m nervous because you’re watching me!”

“Okay, sorry, sorry. I’ll look away.”

Sal turned around and faced the wall and surely enough, within a few seconds he heard the trinkle of your urine against the toilet bowl. When you were finished you removed the stick from between your legs and placed the cap on it, pulled up your pants and washed your hands. “Now we wait two minutes,” you said, putting a timer on your phone.

“Two minutes?” Sal exclaimed, to which you nodded. You could see through those two minutes how eager Sal was. He kept peeking between you and the test, biting the skin around his fingernails nervously as the timer on your phone ticked away. The second the timer went off, Sal grabbed the test from the side and looked at you. “We look together okay?” He asked, waiting for your nod of confirmation. “On the count of three. One, two, three.”

On the count of three, Sal turned the test around to face the two of you and immediately you were faced with two clear, red lines. “One line for negative, two lines for positive,” Sal repeated, his eyes wide. He looked at you and immediately broke out into tears. The two of you began to hold each other as tears of happiness fell down your cheeks. “We’re having a baby!” Sal gasped as he caught his breath.

“We’re having a baby,” you repeated, biting your lip and moving away slightly to look into Sal’s eyes.

“Oh my God,” Sal exclaimed as he wiped the tears from his eyes. “Finally!”

“I know,” you said, laughter erupting from your throat. “I thought it would never happen because we wanted it so much.”

Sal kissed the top of your head and smiled down at you. “I knew it would happen. I just knew it.”

“Oh, did you now?” You teased lightly.

“I did,” he remarked with a smirk. “Now come with me,” he said, holding out his hand for you to take.

You took his hand and looked at Sal curiously. “Where are we going?” You asked.

“Well, I was thinking we’d celebrate,” Sal smirked, grabbing your hand and leading you back to your shared bedroom. He closed the door behind you and took the pregnancy test out of your hand and placed it on his nightstand.

“And how are we celebrating?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, I think you know,” he grinned, pulling you down with him onto the bed gently. He pressed his lips to yours passionately, immediately poking his tongue into your mouth and fighting for dominance against your own tongue. You let out a soft moan into the kiss and sighed dreamily as Sal began to remove each item of clothing on your body. He did so teasingly, slowly, and passionately. His hands traced your curves, roaming over your stomach that was growing his child and cradling you protectively. “Oh my sweet girl,” Sal groaned as he squeezed your breasts slightly. “The mother of my child.”

You smiled upon hearing those words, and revelled in the way Sal was touching you all over. “Sally, please don’t tease me,” you begged silently.

“Okay, okay. Since you’ve been so good and you’re giving me a baby, I suppose I can reward you,” he said slyly. He removed his pyjama pants and boxers before climbing on top of you, lips attaching to your neck and sucking on the sensitive skin. Sal was already as hard as a rock. The thought of you finally being pregnant with his child had filled him with so much joy and arousal. He slipped his cockhead up your folds and lubricated himself before slowly inching into you. A loud gasp left your lips. “Fuck, you’re so tight.”

You nodded in agreement, and held onto his shoulders as your legs wrapped around his waist. His cock pushed deep inside of you and he finally bottomed out. A moan left his lips almost immediately. “Jesus Christ, Sal,” you moaned out, biting your bottom lip to stop a louder moan from leaving your lips.

Sal’s pace was slow and sensual, a lot of love was poured into all of this. Your wish of having a baby together was finally coming true and Sal just wanted to show you how thankful he was. His hands roamed over your body, grasping and grabbing at every piece of flesh he could as he moved against you effortlessly. “God I love you so much,” he whispered into your ear.

“I love you too,” you managed to choke out between broken sobs of pleasure. It was all becoming too much and you wanted Sal to move faster. “Please Sally. Move a bit faster.”

He complied with your request, his hips snapping against yours but still keeping the sensual rhythm. You let out a whimper as he continued to thrust into you, heavy balls slapping against you. “You feel so good,” Sal groaned, biting and sucking at you. His hands cupped your breasts and began to play with them gently, noticing how tender they were.

“Sal, I’m gonna cum,” you cried out. Sal nodded and moved a hand down to your clit, playing with the bundle of nerves between your legs until you came undone around his cock. You squirted with ease, making a mess of the bedsheets and Sal’s torso.

“God I’m going to cum too,” he whimpered pathetically. His hips continued to slam against yours, but his movements stuttered as thick ropes of cum spurted from his head and deep inside of you. He moaned your name over and over like a prayer he could never get sick of as he shuddered deeply. When he had finished cumming, he pulled out of you and lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. A wide smile laced his lips. “You’re amazing.”

“I know,” you joked, nuzzling into him.

“Thank you,” he whispered quietly.

“What are you thanking me for?” You asked quizzically.

“For giving the weird kid a chance. For seeing me as more than a freak who sees ghosts. For giving me the life I never thought I deserved.”

A tear rolled down your eyes at his words. “Sal,” you sat up, and looked down at him. “You deserve all the love in the world. More than I can give you. But this child and I, will do the best we can to make sure you feel that love.”

“I love you,” he said softly.

“We love you too,” you replied, pressing your head against his chest and listening to his heartbeat.

“I suppose we have a lot of people to tell the good news too,” Sal said, sitting up.

“I’ll contact the doctor tomorrow. We’ll get a scan before we tell people,” you answer, but nod at the same time. “We can have a little reveal party. Something grand and spectacular.”

“I agree,” Sal nodded, kissing your forehead. “Tomorrow, we’ll think of ideas.” You nod in agreement and smile at him. “Rest now, my love. You’ll need it.”

You let out a soft yawn. “But it’s still morning.”

“Have an early morning nap,” Sal chuckled. “You deserve it.”

“Suppose I could take a nap. I have been up for a while,” you reply. Sal nodded and pulled you even closer to him until you were almost lying on top of his body. He stroked your hair until you fell into a sleep, full of dreams of motherhood and the excitement that was to come in your life.

970 notes · View notes

house-of-lovin · 1 year ago

Text

legally binded - 9

Jenna Ortega x F!Reader

masterlist | series mast. | prev. part | next part

Chapter 9 : Grand Prix and Grand Gestures

Summary: After getting caught in some hot waters with the press, you are forced into an unexpected agreement with America's sweetheart, Jenna Ortega to save your career.

Warnings/Tags: famous!reader, actress!reader, mentions of substances, intoxication, mature language, real people. (do not read if any of these make you uncomfortable)

(this is all fiction!)

Note: sorry for the long wait for this new chapter, just enjoying my summer yk! anyways, thanks for your guys' continued support and patience! much love!!

Word Count: 5.6k+

When Jenna stepped out of her room at precisely 4:45 AM, with the early morning sun yet to rise, the last thing she expected to find was the shared kitchen to be a mess.

Courtesy of you, of course. ‘Cause who else?

“What the hell are you doing to our kitchen?” Jenna croaked out, running a hand against the plastered wall as a guide as she tiredly rubbed her sleep-filled eyes with the other. When the blurring in her vision goes away, they settle on you looking… wired, like you’d had three cups of espresso already.

“Good morning!” You whispered, admiring her messy bedhead with a large toothy smile. “I’m making you breakfast.”

“Why?” She asked, voice hoarse. You rolled your eyes as you passed her a steaming mug of coffee without a word causing her to flick a brow up, opting to take a sip instead of questioning it.

“I’m making you breakfast so you don’t go to work hungry, again.” You explained matter-of-factly, turning your back to check on the stove. The younger actress couldn’t stave off her surprise that you’ve noticed her skipping the most important meal of the day. “Now I’m not the best cook. But, I learned a thing or two about making a mean avocado toast, and since you’re vegetarian… it’s really the only thing I can make you.”

Jenna didn’t expect her heart to be racing so early in the morning. Since your talk, the two of you have been more at ease around the other; falling back into that natural banter, every once in a while. But she can’t lie… the friends' agreement has been difficult to follow through with, especially since you’ve started with gestures such as this.

The younger actress finds she’s started to… allow herself to enjoy these domestic moments with you, knowing that now, feelings are very much reciprocated — just, without a label yet.

Placing the steaming mug down on the kitchen island, she chose not to comment on how her coffee was made exactly how she liked it. “I appreciate the gesture, Y/N. I hope you didn’t wake up early just to make me breakfast.”

You turned off the stove, took the pan off the burner, and rolled your eyes. “Get off your high horse, I was already up.” Turning around with the pan still in your hand.

“You were already up or you didn’t go to sleep?” She countered, expression flat.

You smiled sheepishly, “Jet lag is kicking my ass.”

Jenna snorted and watched as you plated the perfectly-browned toast on a dish and spread some avocados on top; garnishing it with the utmost (adorable) concentration on your face before sliding the plate across the island with a small but proud grin.

“Consider it compliments of the chef,” you send her a playful wink, glancing down. Jenna follows your line of sight, reading the printed words on the apron.

Kiss the Chef.

She tried to fight the smile creeping on her face but it proved futile when she felt the familiar warmth enveloping her pale morning cheeks.

“You’re not as smooth as you think you are…” Was the best response the younger actress could trust herself to utter. “When did you even buy that?”

You laughed, picking up your own cup of coffee. “I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

Jenna ignored you, electing to take a bite of the toast. She almost felt bad for eating something that you put so much effort towards. But when she takes a bite, she finds herself letting out a muffled moan, making you flush red at the sound. “Holy shit, what did you put in this?”

Plastering a smile, you teased, “it’s a secret.”

“You’re annoying…” Jenna covered her mouth, as she ate.

“Finish eating or you’ll be late.” You reminded, taking off the apron. The time zone change still messed with your internal body clock, meaning at times, you’d still be up when Jenna awoke for a day of work.

You noted the times she got up and at which of those mornings she managed to eat. After the third day of her waking up late, you decided that the next day you’d be kind and make her a healthy breakfast, knowing it’s often difficult to find time to eat during a busy day of filming.

“Wait…” Jenna called out before you could leave the kitchen. “What are you doing today?”

You racked your brain; thinking for a moment. “I gotta start packing for Monaco, I leave this Wednesday.”

Jenna remembered you telling her that you’ve been invited to the F1 Grand Prix. She doesn’t really understand the race, but she found your childlike glee over a bunch of cars… endearing. It’s slightly childish that she feels a bit upset by you leaving so suddenly, but these last few weeks have felt blissful ever since your confession. She finds herself wanting to stay in this bubble the two of you have created for as long as she can. “Oh, right…”

“Why, what’s up?”

“Nothing… just wondering ‘cause my family’s actually flying in this weekend,” Jenna admitted, gauging your reaction, noting the way you stood straighter on your feet.

“They are?”

Jenna hummed. “Yeah, they’re here for a week. They were gonna stay at a hotel but if you’re going to Monaco then…”

You blinked, unsure if you should ask why she didn’t tell you her family was flying in sooner. “Oh yeah, no problem. Listen, it’s your apartment.”

Jenna rolled her eyes, correcting you, “It’s our apartment. You’re living here too.”

Chuckling, you averted your eyes. “Well, in that case. Mi casa es su casa.”

“Your Spanish needs a bit of work...” But Jenna can’t fight her smile.

“Rude,” laughing, you added, “it’s probably best to skip town though— your family’s probably still mad at me.”

Jenna immediately rounds the counter to stand in front of you, shaking her head in denial. “They’re not mad, Y/N. I already told you.”

You shoot her a grimaced smile, “I know, I’m just joking, but I’m still scared of your sisters… Also, your mom may or may not have texted me about that paparazzi pic of you smoking cigarettes.”

Her brows raised, as her jaw dropped, “she did?”

You hummed in response.

“Fuck…” She grumbled, causing you to laugh. “What did she say?”

“Nothing you haven’t already heard from her Instagram stories…” You smirked, enjoying her annoyed scowl.

“Shut up.”

“Hey, it’ll be alright.” You placed a hand on her shoulder, lightly rubbing it. Ignoring the way she straightened her posture at your touch. “A scolding is probably the most you’ll get out of her.”

“I’m 20 years old, I can do whatever I want.” Dropping your hand, you laughed again.

“You may think you’re grown but she’s always going to be your mom. She’s just looking out for you. Not to mention, she’s a nurse, what'd you expect?” You jest but she rolled her eyes, staring up at you with a slight pout in her frown causing your heart to stop dead in its tracks; desperately trying to stare at her lips for too long.

Maybe it was the confession, or the ‘clearing the air’ that you two have done. But every touch and look from Jenna feels weighted — in a pleasant way, this time.

She sighed heavily, leaning her hip on the kitchen island. “I know… it’s just embarrassing.”

“At least you know she cares.” You chuckled, patting her shoulder reassuringly before walking off to the living room.

She ignored the possible meaning behind your words. Although she’d love to dive into the story of your mom and hear it from your account, maybe having that conversation at five o’clock in the morning isn’t the best idea.

“Come on, finish up and go shower. You’re gonna be late.” You called out behind you before plopping on the couch.

“You better wash those dishes…”

“Ugh, later.” You groaned. “I need a nap.”

—

Jenna (2:35 PM): hope you’re having a great time in Monaco 🖤

“Get off your phone…” Tom said before snatching the device right from your hand.

“Dude…”

“You’re in Monaco with the best cars and drivers in the entire world and you’re glued to your phone – what’re you looking at anyway.” the Brit commented, reading the text before you could stop him. “Aw… how cute, she sent a heart.”

“Shut up. You literally made us late ‘cause you spent all night talking to Z.” Attempting to grab your phone back was futile when he held it out of reach, tossing it to Link who was enjoying this interaction judging by the large grin smacked on his face.

“She’s my girlfriend.” Tom defended but it fell on deaf ears as soon as you saw Link begin to scroll through your past messages with Jenna.

“Link… give it back, I need to respond!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll text her back.” Link winked before typing a response. You immediately leapt out of your seat, plucking your phone out of his grasp but it was too late, he’d already sent the message.

“Thinking about you? Really?” You deadpanned despite the warmth coursing fervently through your cheeks. “You’re such an ass…”

“You’re just mad that I finally said what you were really thinking.” He called out as you walked away, fingers slightly trembling as you hit the call button. You wait a few (agonizingly long) seconds, listening to the line ring.

“Hey…”

“Oh, hey,” there was some shuffling on the other line, “I was just about to text you back.”

“About that… sorry about that text, Link was being an asshole and took my phone.” You muttered sheepishly; trembling fingers picking at your trousers to counter the nerves that suddenly overcame you.

“Oh? So you weren’t thinking about me?” Her tone is light and teasing. You paint a mental image of her bright, wide smile that usually accompanied her playful taunts; it sent a flurry of butterflies swarming around in your belly.

You pass it off as a stomach ache from your breakfast this morning.

“Come on…” You trail off, not wanting to admit it.

“Wow, I see how it is…”

“Jenna…” You sighed, dropping your fiddling fingers. “Of course, I was thinking about you.”

The line is silent as Jenna doesn’t respond and suddenly you feel embarrassed at your school-girl-like confession. Though it’s technically only been two days since you left London for Monaco, you’d be lying straight through your teeth if you were to deny the fact that you’ve been thinking about the younger actress since the moment you stepped out of the shared apartment.

“I’ve been thinking about you too.” Jenna replied in a small voice. Her admittance causes your heart to stop momentarily but what you couldn’t stop, however, was the satisfied smile creeping on your lips.

Was it pathetic that all Jenna had to do was say a simple, cliché sentence to you and you were practically a puddle on the floor? Maybe, but you couldn’t care less about that right now.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah…”

“Glad we’re on the same page then…” You uttered, glancing around, hoping no one could see your Cheshire grin. Immediately catching Tom and Link at the other end of the balcony making kissing faces at you. You stick up the not-so-nice finger at them before turning your back on the two men, ignoring their blatant and obnoxious laughter, “I hope I didn’t interrupt anything when I called.”

Jenna was supposed to be on set working today, you’d hate to interrupt a busy day’s work…. That’s a lie, this phone call was totally worth it.

“Oh no, you didn’t. I’m actually at the apartment.”

“I thought you’d still be on set?”

“Um, about that…” She trails off in a sheepish tone.

“Jen? What’s wrong?” You asked, panic evident.

“I might’ve—uh—injured myself at work today.” She admitted.

“What?! Are you okay? How? Do you need me to come ba—“

“Y/N… breathe.” She interjects your nervous questioning but it merely goes over your head. Your nerves sky-rocketing the longer she doesn’t answer your questions.

“Are you okay?” You repeated what you really needed to know first.

“I’m fine, I promise,” she chuckled, “just a sprained ankle. I twisted it during rehearsal. It’s not a big deal but they sent me home early to rest.”

“Are you icing it? Keeping it elevated? You know what, send me a picture I wanna see if the swelling is bad.”

Jenna’s laughter doubles. “I’m okay. I promise. Yes, I'm icing it and yes I’m keeping it elevated. You don't have to play doctor. I’ll even send you a picture, just relax.”

“I’m just worried.”

“I know you are.” She said, almost like she was endeared. “But like I said, it’s just a sprained ankle. They gave me crutches, so I’m good.”

“Crutches?! Do I need to come back home?”

Jenna ignored how her heart swooped at the word: home.

“No,” she laughed, “enjoy your time with the boys and your cars. You looked good on that racetrack, you sure being an actress is your calling?”

You rolled your eyes at her choice of timing for a joke, “You know I’ll leave them in a heartbeat. Just say the word and I’ll be on the first flight back.”

On the other end of the line, Jenna is torn between swooning and mentally cursing you for being so sweet. She bit her lip to subdue the smile creeping in, “that’s very sweet, Y/N, but I promise. I’ll be okay, my family’s flying in on Sunday anyway. I’ll be fine until then.”

You sighed unsurely, “Are you sure?” That’s still a few days where she’d have to be alone until someone could help her around the house.

“Yes! Now go, enjoy Monaco. Maybe I’ll even turn on the racing channel or whatever and get a glimpse of you.”

“You did not just say the racing channel…”

“Go!” She laughed and this time, you relent at her assured tone.

“Fine… but if anything else happens, call me, please?”

“You’ll be the first one to know, I promise.”

“Okay…” You take a deep breath hoping to calm your nerves. If Jenna says she’s okay, then you have no reason to go against her wishes. “I’ll text you?”

“Mhmm. Bye, be safe.”

“Bye…” You hang up, dropping the phone from your ear, anxiously tapping it against your other hand as you contemplate your options.

“That was a long call,” Link swung his arm over your shoulder, leaning into your side. “You already miss your girl? It’s only been a day.”

“Quit it. She’s not my girl.” You back-hand him squarely on the stomach causing him to heave out a rough, pained puff. The satisfaction of seeing your best friend in pain was a dull noise in the background of your restless thoughts. “She injured herself on set, I was just making sure she’s okay.”

You chewed on your lip nervously, ignoring Link’s probing eyes as he scanned your faraway look.

“Is it serious?”

“No, just a sprained ankle.”

Link continued to observe you; seeing straight through you. An amused smile painted itself squarely on his lips. “... you’re gonna leave, aren’t you?”

—

“What the— I told you to stay. What are you doing here?”

“And I told you to send me a picture of your sprain.”

Jenna frowned, closely watching as you slipped the duffle bag off your shoulders; landing on the hardwood with a loud thud.

“Get back on the couch. You shouldn’t be walking.” You ordered, briefly scanning her head-to-toe and letting out a concealed sigh of relief that her ankle didn’t seem too bad.

“I’m injured, not crippled.” She replied unamused. You meet her eyes, mimicking her expression until the brunette realized you’re not backing down. “Fine…”

“Let me help you.” You stepped forward, taking a closer look at her injury. Her left ankle was covered in a compression wrap as she hobbled around with a single crutch.

“I’m fine.”

“Jenna, let me help.” You said in a serious tone, not backing down.

She rolled her eyes, slowly turning around with her crutch to walk back to the living room, hoping you missed her rosy cheeks. She ignored the intense thudding in her chest as you walked together. The thought of you leaving a trip that obviously meant a lot to you, sent the younger actress’ heart into a frenzy.

“What are you doing here?” The younger actress asked again once she was comfortably seated on the sofa.

You took a seat beside her, “I was worried.”

“I told you I was fine, you’re acting like I’m on my deathbed.”

Rolling your eyes, you grabbed the pillow behind you and placed it between you and Jenna. Scooting back to gesture for her to rest the injured ankle on the pillow. “I wouldn’t have enjoyed the race knowing that you’re back in London with an injury… so, I left.”

Jenna stayed silent, not trusting herself to say what she was really feeling. So she opted to stare as you examined her wrapped ankle, seemingly satisfied that her injury wasn’t as bad as you had thought.

“I’m just trying to be a good friend… and roommate.” You joked, grabbing the discarded remote off the coffee table. Ignoring the way your skin burned the longer she stared at you unspeaking.

Jenna snorted at your words, grabbing the pillow behind her and playfully lunging it at you. You caught the feeble attempt. “Right, roommate.”

You laughed at the tone that accompanied her words, “how did you hurt yourself anyway?”

If Jenna’s cheeks turned any rosier, she’d be the human embodiment of a tomato. It was embarrassing, really and she blames Aliyah for sending that video.

She might’ve been too distracted watching a clip of you and Tom walking along the racetrack, waving to the crowd. As luck would have it, she was supposed to be rehearsing for a scene, walking over to her next marking. However, one misstep over a wire sent her ankle twisting in an abnormal way. “I wasn’t paying attention to the marking on the floor and I tripped over a loose wire.”

Jenna was definitely not going to tell you the truth. You’d never let her hear the end of it.

You sent her a questioning look, “I don’t know whether to laugh or feel bad.”

“Is it too late for you to go back to Monaco?” She joked, straight-faced.

“I’m kidding, of course, I feel bad.“ You settled back into a comfortable position.

“How did you get back so fast?” She inquired.

“It’s only a two-hour flight.”

Glancing at the clock on the wall, Jenna noted that you were on the phone merely two and a half hours ago. “You got through security that fast?”

You blush red.

As soon as the jet landed on the tarmac and the seatbelt lights turned off, you were posted by the doors; impatiently tapping your foot on the floor.

“Miss L/N, your driver is waiting just outside.” The flight attendant alerted you. You nodded, sending a tight-lipped smile.

“Thank you.”

When the doors opened and the stairs hit the pavement, you were already rushing down the steps, making eye contact with the driver.

“Miss, I can take your bags.”

“That’s alright.” You tossed them in the back seat before shutting the doors. “How fast can you get back to the apartment?”

“GPS says 45 minutes but there is heavy traffic on the highway.”

“I’ll drive.” You held your hand out. He looked unsure before seeing that you were not playing around, swiftly handing the keys over.

“Yes, ma’am.”

You made sure to tip the man handsomely after noticing his white-knuckle grip on the grab handles as you maneuvered through said traffic.

“Uh yeah and I got lucky, no traffic. Anyways….wanna watch Breaking Bad? Unless you finished it already, in that case, we can watch something else.” You changed the subject, Jenna didn’t need to know how you drove that SUV like it was a race car and broke multiple speeding laws just to get here.

“No, Breaking Bad is good. I haven’t watched it since we were at my parents' house.”

You turn, evidently surprised that she kept your unspoken promise. Trying to hide your growing smile, you face the TV again before the staring becomes too obvious.

“Me too.”

—

“Are you sure you’re fine to go to work today? It’s only been like, a day.”

It’s Sunday morning, too early for anyone to be awake. With the sky still covered in a blanket of darkness, you tiredly lean against the wall, trying your best to string coherent words together as you reason with Jenna, who lightly limped around the large room as she gets ready for work.

“Technically, it’s been two.” She glanced at you momentarily. “I don’t want to delay production.”

“Jenna, you're injured. They can get a stand-in or just not film your scenes today.” You argued. Having had your fair share of on-set injuries, you knew that a major film could afford to delay filming for the sake of an injury. This was merely Jenna’s workaholic tendencies making her feel that she couldn’t stop working. “They can and should accommodate for you, Jenna.”

At your gruffed tone, Jenna dropped what she was looking for, walking over to stand in front of you. “Hey…”

You glanced at your hands, ignoring her soft tone. “Look at me, please?”

Jenna grabbed your hand, drawing your attention to her. “I’ll be okay. If my ankle starts to bother me, I’ll let the director know.”

“You promise?” You asked, glancing down when she started rubbing soft lines against your skin.

“I promise.” She squeezed for good measure.

You studied her soft gaze, attentive to the assured glimmer behind them. Letting out a sigh, you pushed your worries aside. “Okay.”

She smiled at your obvious concern, dropping your hand to walk back to the living room.

You try not to draw attention to the way your fingers twitched at the loss of contact. “By the way, my family will be here at noon. Are you good to be alone with them while I’m at work?”

“Yeah… I think I’ll be fine.” To distract yourself, you walked off to the kitchen, grabbing a mug for your morning coffee; allowing a gentle silence to envelop the room as Jenna hobbled around and gathered her things.

“Crap!” Jenna suddenly said, emerging out of her room.

“What?” You turned, slightly startled. “What’s wrong?”

“I forgot to set up the guest bedroom for them.”

“Oh.” Your shoulders dropped. “I already did it, don’t worry.”

Her brows raised, “you called the housekeeper already?”

“No. I did it myself. We don’t need him.”

Jenna seemed surprised if the raised brows were anything to go by. It was amusing truly, but you elected to stay silent, turning back to make your coffee.

“Thank you…” She finally said.

“Don’t mention it.” You shrugged, “If you want, I can pick up your family at the airport too. Heathrow is a bitch to navigate.”

Jenna didn’t respond, just staring at your back from her spot in the living room. You were unaware of her internal turmoil.

“Jen?” You turned around when you realized she didn’t reply; just staring at you with an unwavering intensity. “Jenna?”

“What?” She blinked a couple of times. “What did you say?”

“I said I can pick up your family from the airport.” You sipped on the steaming mug, a single brow flicking upright in question.

“Oh–uh, no. T-That’s alright, I’m sending a car over to pick them up.” She stuttered pathetically; grateful that the dim lights from the lamp in the corner of the room did well to hide the crimson rising over her neck. “You shouldn’t be seen at Heathrow. You might get spotted.”

“I can wear a disguise.” You thought out loud.

Jenna snorted, pushing away her inner strife. “Oh yeah? Like what, a baseball hat and sunglasses?”

“Hey, it works!” You defended. “Not everyone can just blend in with their height.”

“Was that a short joke?” Jenna arched a sharp brow.

“Nope.” You stood wide-eyed. “Oh hey, I just remembered I left something in my room. Okay. Bye. Have a good day at work.”

Jenna laughed as you scurried off to your bedroom, glad that she hasn’t lost her edge with you.

—

“I can’t believe you cancelled on the driver.”

The younger actress said as soon as you swung the front door open. Faintly, she can hear the familiar sounds of laughter farther into the apartment. “You’re so stubborn.”

“You act like that’s a new fact.” You snicker, a pleased smile plastered on your lips. “I’d like an apology by the way. The disguise worked perfectly — just like I said it would.”

“You’re too much sometimes.” She shook her head, stepping into the hall.

“In the best way, though. Right?” You asked, letting her in.

“If it helps you sleep better.” Jenna shrugged, chucking her work bag on the side table.

“Now look who’s being stubborn.” You replied with a knowing smile. “Go say hi and then wash up. Natalie and I are making dinner.”

She raised her brows in surprise as you walked away. Her footsteps faltering when she walks into the living room. Gaze instantly landing on her sisters and Dad lounging on the couch, in the corner of her eyes she finds her mom who was chopping up vegetables on the kitchen island.

“Hey, guys…” She said slowly, still taking the scene in front of her.

“Jen!” Mia sprung up from her seat and tugged her sister into a tight hug.

One by one, Aliyah, her dad and her mom sauntered over to greet and fret over her. Sentiments of I miss you, echoing in the vast apartment.

“It’s good to see you, honey.” Her mom said with a smile. “I hope you’ve been taking care of that ankle.”

Jenna rolled her eyes at her Mom’s fretting but nodded reassuringly. “I’m okay, Mom. Y/N’s been helping me.”

“So I’ve heard.” She winked, walking away.

“Uh– you guys made yourselves comfortable…” Jenna cleared her throat as she watched how her mom swiftly walked back to the kitchen where you were leaning against the island, observing her family with a small smile.

“Y/N said to make yourselves at home. Blame her.” Aliyah said, tugging her onto the couch. “How’s filming been? How’s working with Winona Ryder, tell me everything!”

“Great uh–what’s for dinner?” Was the first question the actress asked, too distracted by watching your concentrated expression. The slight scrunch in your forehead as you closely listened to her mom’s instructions was more interesting than what her sister was asking her.

“Mom’s teaching her how to make frijoles.” Mia smirked at her sister’s doe-eyed look.

“Oh…” Jenna replied with a vacant tone. “Sounds good.”

“Do you have any pictures in your wardrobe—“

“Why frijoles?” She added, interrupting Aliyah when she tried to spark another series of questions.

“Y/N heard it was one of your favourites, said she wanted to learn how to make it for you.” Mia replied, her tone smug.

“She did?” Jenna’s brow raised, still unable to look away from you.

“I think we lost her,” Aliyah sighed to Mia, giving up on having her questions answered.

Jenna rolled her eyes when her sisters burst into laughter, blinking back to reality. “Shut up. What were you saying?”

She forced herself to look away and give her undivided attention to her sisters. Pretending not to notice as you kept glancing at her from the kitchen.

—

“Wow this looks amazing, are you sure you helped, Y/N?” Aliyah teased from the dining table.

“Ha-ha, you’re hilarious.” You mocked, walking over with a bowl of guacamole, placing it at the centre of the table. “Wait ‘till you try my guac.”

“I always make the that.” Jenna trailed off, sneaking a peek at the bowl.

“I know.” You took your seat beside her. “Your mom showed me how you like to make it. I hope it’s close.”

“I think I’ll be the judge of that…” She reached for a chip and dipped a large chunk into the green goodness. You watched intently for a reaction but she gave you none; continuing to chew on.

“It’s good.” She finally says.

“That’s it?”

“What? I said it’s good.” Jenna laughed at your sullen expression; almost feeling bad. Once your bottom lip popped out in disappointment, she dropped her act, reaching for your arm and squeezing it. “I’m kidding. It’s great, it tastes exactly how I make it back home… but you know, you can’t beat the original.”

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. “I think I’ll be the judge of that.” You repeated her words.

Before Jenna can reply with a quip, her mom walked over with the last bowl of food, disrupting your conversation. But it was all forgotten when the younger actress’ nose welcomed the familiar scent of all of her favourite dishes. She enthusiastically eyed the various dishes scattered on the table, not having had her family’s cooking in what felt like forever. Living with you wasn’t bad – actually, it’s been more than great, but you were serious when you said you lacked skills in the kitchen. That resulted in dinners mostly being take-out these days.

“Have you tried frijoles before?” Jenna asked you.

“Uh–no.” You blushed. “I actually didn’t even know they were beans until today.”

“You’ll love it.” She grinned, reaching over to plate you a generous helping. You refused to tell her that you didn’t necessarily love beans because her excited expression overpowered any dislike you had for the legume.

—

“You’re still up?” You called out after a brief glance, the pitter-patter of light footsteps coming down the hall, alerting you of her presence.

“Mhm, I heard the clanking of dishes from my room.” She replied, leaning against the counter, watching as you dried off the dishes one by one. “What’re you doing?”

“Sorry. I’ll keep it down.” You grimaced apologetically. “I couldn’t sleep so I figured I’d unload the dishes.”

“It’s okay, I’m actually not too tired too.” She stepped forward, only an arm’s length away from you. “Can I help?”

Wordlessly, you passed her a dry cloth and a bowl from the dishwasher. For a while, silence enveloped the room. You were grateful that you and the brunette can exist in silence, sometimes. Her mere presence provided a certain level of comfort that you’re still trying to get used to.

“So…” She spoke up after a few minutes, gaining your attention. “You’re really pulling out all the stops, huh.”

You raise an amused brow at the baiting look in her eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Jenna would’ve believed that statement if it weren’t for the small smile at the corner of your lips telling her otherwise.

“Right… so, you just pick up all your friends’ parents from the airport and do chores, willingly.”

“I’m turning over a new leaf.” You shrugged, continuing to wipe away remnants of water from the plate. Hoping the mundane action hid your trembling fingers well.

“Oh, are you?”

“Yup.”

“So this isn’t you trying to win me over?”

“Me try to win you over? Whaaat?” You puffed out an airy scoff, “that’s ridiculous. I would never. I wholeheartedly respect your decision.”

But the crinkle in your eyes told her that you were enjoying this way too much.

“Sure…” Jenna rolled her eyes, “even if you are just doing this out of the kindness of your own heart—“

“Which, I am.”

Jenna sends a playful glower at your interruption.

“Just wanted to put that on record.” You added.

“Thank you.” Jenna declared, her tone soft yet serious. “You’ve been incredible these last few days.”

“Oh.” You blink, a pleased smile plastered on your face. “You’re welcome, Jen. It’s no big deal.”

“It’s a big deal to me.” The bowl and cloth in her hands were long forgotten on the counter as she closed the distance between you. “No one’s ever done any of… this, for me—thank you.”

The air feels charged as she suddenly looks at you with that doe-eyed stare. Feeling like your heart rate instantly doubles, the longer she stares at you like that.

“What? Be nice?” You said evenly, “You need to set your standards higher.”

She huffed at your antics. “I’m being serious.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop.” you laughed shakily, trying to gather some semblance of control over your racing pulse. “Like I said, it’s not a big deal, Jen… cause I’d do anything for you.”

She blinked, voice caught in her throat she took in the serious glint in your eyes; voice dripping with conviction

“And this isn’t me trying to win you over. You’ll know when I do.”

The younger actress’ body feels like it’s on fire the longer she listens to your words.

“Uh, sorry, too much?” You said apologetically when she remained unspeaking.

But Jenna was already shaking her head, a faraway look in her eyes that you couldn’t quite decipher.

“No…” She murmured, her sight drifting down to your lips before they flicker back up to your eyes. “Not at all.”

“Okay…” Your gaze bore intently into hers, waiting to see if she’ll make the first move. “Good.”

For a brief moment, her eyes flicker back down for a second time but then she’s blinking out of her self-induced stupor, “um–I should go to sleep. I need to be up early.” Jenna hoped her ogling on your soft lips wasn’t too obvious.

She steps back and almost instantaneously, the tension in the room dissipates with each movement she takes.

You nod, smiling softly despite the slight tinge of disappointment you felt; knowing that you shouldn’t rush into this with her. “Good idea, you should rest your ankle… good night, Jenna.”

Just before you turned back to grab the discarded dry cloth, Jenna takes a hesitant step—before she can lose her nerve and leaned up to plant her lips on the pad of your cheek.

Your brain felt like it short-circuited; not having felt her lips in forever as your skin burned against the delicate contact.

“Good night, Y/N.” She whispered, her soft lips grazing your cheek in a way that drove you crazy.

Before your brain could rewire itself well enough to form a response, Jenna was already turning around to retreat back to her room.

Biting your lip to contain the growing smile, you couldn’t look away from her figure until she disappeared behind the door.

Shit…

You’re in deeper than you thought.

——

if there was any mistakes… look away (i tried my best 🧍‍♀️)

taglist is closed

@alexkolax @ladey @jjsmaybank20 @werewoofrobinbuckley @the-oblivious-writer @fanboy7794 @la-douleur-ne-finit-jamais @zelload @natashadeservedmore @orang3-ish @friedryes @nahnahnahwhat @be-missed @jjuncidio @oksana-moods @theirishmanronan @r-ude @wokethefuxkup @skate-to-breathee @user173781 @frasersgf @justafoolinlove @bring-mecoffee @haughtsauce21 @wheesunsangel @omega-horus @selluequestrian @justalittledissociation @imaloserbby @catswag22 @smjmgko @acutenobody @raven-ss @canceldevvi @sweetaimu @rockwyn @rwndsana @cheesybacon123 @cvluswnt @secretbackrooms @vixen1006 @zhasmindoesntknow @ulicebld @rozmrazaradelfinow @icarly23 @cartierdreamx @thenextdawn @annalestern @noooodlessstuff @vstblrblog @godsfavouritelesbiann

#legally binded #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x you #wednesday netflix

1K notes · View notes

daydreamingyuta · 1 year ago

Text

Good Morning, Baby | Mark Lee

Summary: drabble, fluff, waking up with boyfriend!mark word count: 484

You feel soft kisses being placed on your cheek, promptly waking you up. You turn slightly and see a sleepy Mark, who also just woke up, and decided that you needed some attention.

“Good morning babyy” he says, in his morning voice that you loved so much. Even though he woke you up, he wasn’t quite ready to start the day just yet. You feel him cuddling into you, which was always your favorite part of the waking up next to him.

“Good morning.” You respond back, enjoying the comfort of having him hold you. You loved being in his arms, more than anything. You feel your eyes getting more tired, and before you know it, you're both asleep again.

⸻

Eventually, you feel him move which wakes you back up. He lets go of you and stretches, like a cat. He places another quick kiss on your cheek before he gets up.

You decide to get up as well, going to make some coffee for the both of you in the kitchen. Mark had recently bought a new coffee machine, and you loved it, so you used it every chance you could. It had a bunch of different options on what kind of coffee you could make, which made you feel like a barista.

Right as the second cup was finished brewing, Mark came into the kitchen, guided by the scent of fresh coffee.

While he grabs his cup, you can’t help but stare at him, with his slightly messy bedhead and tired eyes. He’s in an oversized hoodie, the one you got him for his birthday, that makes him look so soft and cozy.

Mark catches you staring, “What?” He asks, as he tilts his head at you.

“Can I please take a picture of you?” You ask, as you grab your phone.

“Noo, come on baby, I just woke up.” He says, but he walks over to you and poses for the pictures anyways.

After you’ve taken a couple, he comes behind you and rests his chin on your shoulder as you both look at the photos. He buries his face into your neck as he laughs at a particularly blurry one where he’s mid-blink.

“You know, I actually look pretty good in these though.” He says, ignoring the one bad photo.

“Obviously you look good, you always look good. You’re literally perfect, Mark.”

“Perfect?” He asks, and he can tell by the look on your face, that you genuinely mean it.

Unexpectedly, he gets shy by your words. “dude, you always make me feel so like… I don’t know.” A slight blush appears on his cheeks.

You love making Mark shy. You hope to always make Mark shy, for the rest of your life, if you could be so lucky. You give him a kiss before going back to your coffee, feeling extra thankful for your precious mornings with Mark.

#mark lee #fluff #nct #nct 127 #nct dream #k-pop #drabble #nct scenarios #imagine #mark lee fluff #mark lee x reader #established relationship #fanfiction #nct fanfic #mark lee x y/n

741 notes · View notes

ivystoryweaver · 2 years ago

Text

With You Part 2

prev || Fic Masterlist || My Masterlist || next

Summary: Your fiancé Marc experiences his first hangover in 2 years. Can he face you in the light of day, and admit to you and Steven what he knows about another alter?

Pairings: Marc Spector x reader, Steven Grant x reader, Jake Lockley x reader. Gender neutral reader, though there is one optional fiancé(e) and muñeca(o). (Reader’s choice). No use of Y/N. Reader is engaged to Marc and Steven.

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings/notables: Angst, comfort, hangover (ish), cursing, cuddles in bed, assumptions, longing, feeling inadequate, brief reference to past trauma, self-worth probs (I mean, it’s Marc). Let me know if I missed a warning. Banter? If mild sarcasm bothers anyone... Probably inaccurate DID, based on the show.

Dividers by saradika

Steven fell asleep right away - for that, you were grateful. But sleep did not come easily for you. As Steven nestled into the crook of your neck, arm slung across your torso, you could only hope he would sleep off that three-quarters bottle of whiskey.

Pushing your fingers through his soft curls, you pressed your lips to his temple, waiting until his breathing slowed and steadied before confessing into the stillness of the night.

“Marc...I know you can’t hear me right now...” Your lip trembled as you pulled his body closer, gently twisting his soft strands around your fingers. “But we love you. We’re with you. Nothing will change that.”

You supposed it could be considered odd to be speaking to Marc even though it was Steven who fell asleep tangled up in you. And perhaps it was also presumptuous to speak on Steven’s behalf, to Marc. But you knew it was true.

The next morning, you woke up first, after a few, merciful hours of sleep. You hoped not to disturb the man beside you, carefully slipping away from his grasp. After a quick trip to the restroom to freshen up, you clambered to the kitchen, cursing yourself for not grabbing your fluffy slippers or a thick pair of Steven’s fuzzy socks. Your damn, drafty flat was going to give you all pneumonia, you were certain of it.

To that end, you started preparing both coffee and tea, unsure of which handsome man would be enduring a hangover this morning. For Steven, you oscillated between a red and a golden tea - hibiscus or chamomile. Marc may have been born and raised in Chicago, but Steven Grant did not mess around about tea.

Finally deciding on the hibiscus, you grabbed the air tight canister of tea leaves - there would be no dreadful teabags (as your darling Brit quoted Dame Julie Andrews) in your flat.

Hopefully Marc would drink the tea, but, just in case, you put on the very impressively American coffee maker before finding the bread for some toast.

After everything was hot and ready to go, you crept back into the bedroom, figuring it all might go cold before your sleepy headed fiancé roused. No matter. You just wanted to be prepared.

You didn’t have to wait long because someone stirred just as you pulled on the fluffiest pair of socks with little goldfish (a Hanukkah present to Steven last year) and threw Marc’s favorite tan hoodie over your white t-shirt. Your legs were still bare and you decided that at least your grumpy, hungover boys might have a silly sight to wake up to, if nothing else.

Easing down beside your love, you gently raked your hand through his bedhead, probably your favorite way to (innocently) touch them.

With a groan, your fiancé squinted, throwing a dramatic arm over his eyes, as if a thousand suns were burning them. (It was still dark in the bedroom).

“Oh, god,” Marc uttered, his arm flopping back on the mattress.

You adored Steven, but you were thrilled it was Marc. You needed to speak to him, or at least take care of him.

“Good morning,” you softly greeted, reaching to massage his temples before pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“Mm-mm, bad morning,” he groaned, rolling over and burying his face in your stomach. His hands somehow conveniently slid right inside his hoodie and underneath your t-shirt, which sent you toppling over, giggling elatedly.

Marc was a very pouty but adorable puppy sometimes. Grumpiness just worked on him. You liked to joke with him that he would make the cutest grumpy old grandpa someday. Thankfully, he was more interested in using your tummy as a pillow at the moment than the heaping shame and anguish from last night.

“Thirsty,” he murmured, nuzzling against you. Damn, it was too bad he didn’t feel good, because he was unintentionally turning you on.

“I got you, baby,” you whispered, prying yourself from his grasp to get his breakfast.

“No, don’t go,” he protested, locking his arms around you, his hot breath falling on the exposed skin of your abdomen, where your shirt had bunched up. “You’re m’pillow.” His words came out all muffled and so, so cute.

God, he was distracting. “Are you calling me fluffy?” You teased. “I was just going to get you some water. And maybe some aspirin?”

“Wanna sleep,” came his mumbled reply. “You left me.”

“To make you some coffee, you baby,” you playfully shot back, finally climbing out of his grasp.

A few minutes later, you returned with a tray filled with tea, coffee, toast, water and painkillers, only to find Marc planted face first in the pillows. How he managed to look so damn good after downing a bottle of whiskey and sleeping five hours, you would never know. As his muscular back expanded with a deep breath, you almost tossed the tray full of remedies to the side and climbed on top of him.

Later, maybe.

After a little coaxing, he finally sat up, taking the prepared tray onto his lap. Simply seeing what you’d done to ease his pain this morning reminded him of his shameful display last night. His eyes flickered over to yours, dropping down to the gesture of care and love.

“You...” He exhaled shakily, “you didn’t have to do all this.”

There was no need to argue over breakfast. You gently smiled in return, rubbing his forearm comfortingly. “I made you coffee, but...maybe you’ll try the tea? Steven says the antioxidants--”

“I was an asshole.” His jaw clenched, his gaze now fixed on your hand. The tenderness of your touch burned him with shame.

“You were?” your eyebrow shot up questioningly. “Hm...”

Marc was used to this from you. Just like you had taken a swig of his whiskey last night, your nonchalant reply should not have surprised him in the least.

You were a champion of the real. He had never met a soul like you, and that’s probably why he was insanely in love with you.

All that mattered to you was the reality of any given situation - what was right in front of you. You were so damn hard to fight with because ... well, you didn’t fight. And for someone as self-punishing as Marc, who spent his youth hearing what a miserable failure of a human being he was, it took him a long time to understand that your steady gentility and raw honesty were not dismissive of his trauma. No, you met it, and him, head on, accepting him and loving him exactly how he was.

You had never asked him to change, never expected him to be anyone other than exactly who he was. After years of self-sabotage, it was unimaginable to him to not have to live up to someone’s standard. He never had successfully lived up to anything, in his mind.

But you were different. The first time you “fought” had blown him away. He snapped at you, feeling inadequate over one thing or another and you simply said, “No.” He thought you were being dismissive of him, maybe even mocking him, but you were as earnest as ever, telling him, “You think that now. That’s okay. I simply disagree.” Then you kissed your thumb and pressed it to the grumpy crease between his downturned eyebrows. “I love you exactly how you are, Marc.”

It was the first time you’d said you loved him and he was just...speechless. You then kissed the corner of his mouth and carried on with the evening. That’s why it was so easy to tell you about Steven.

“I don’t remember you being an asshole,” you shrugged, bringing his mind back to the present. “But I do remember you being upset. And crying.” Scooting a little closer, you twisted the cap off the bottle of painkillers. “You wanna tell me about that?”

He watched your hands, pouring a couple pain pills into your palm, picking up the glass of cool water to make him an offering. His eyes met yours and he knew you were there to ease his pain in every possible way.

Still, it was so hard for him. And anything too hard typically led to disassociation.

To gain an extra moment, he took the medicine, gulping down the entire glass of water.

“Now, what sounds best?” You sweetly asked, nodding to the tray, your gentle smile completely melting him.

“I-I don’t think Steven and I are alone...in the body,” he gulped, his eyes wide and worried.

Sitting up straighter, you slowly nodded, reaching to take the tray from his lap and set it safely on the night table, giving him time to say more, if he would.

That’s all he said.

Shit, you suddenly worried you didn’t know how to ask questions without sounding offensive, despite the library’s worth of research you had done on DID. But you weren’t an investigative journalist, you were this man’s fiancé(e). So you would start with him.

“And that scares you, Marc? Upsets you?”

He glared at you. “Obviously.” Then shook his head. “Sorry. I’m sorry.”

You swallowed, trying to proceed carefully. It was so, so good that he was opening up to you. Instead of playing a guessing game, you decided to be your normal, candid self.

“Do you know who it is?”

He sort of did. Another man.

“Does he have a name?”

Lockley. He was pretty sure.

“Have I met him?”

His dark eyes locked onto yours. “I don’t know. Have you?”

Well that certainly explained one reason he was so terrified.

“No, I don’t think so. Does Steven know?”

Marc reluctantly confessed how hard he’d tried to hide it from Steven.

“I knew this was all too good to be true,” he brokenly whispered, eyes downcast once more. “You, me, Steven, free...happy.”

“We are those things,” you agreed, keeping him focused on the here, now - the real. “A change doesn’t mean we weren’t those things, all this time.”

“You don’t understand...” Marc rubbed his eyes in frustration (with himself) and tried to ignore his growing headache. Maybe he really should eat and drink something. He tried to tell you about Khonshu. He was going to tell you everything, and Steven too. But it was too much at once, so you found yourself with Steven once more.

Steven was very impressed with your choice of “hangover tea” and made sure the body got the nourishment, rest and shower it so needed. He missed his morning classes at uni, but did manage to make it to his shift at the university library, which ran from mid-afternoon to early evening.

Since Steven seemed to determined to not miss a shift over a hangover, you decided to go ahead and work your shift at the hospital, as planned. The two of you would meet back at your flat for some supper and then, hopefully at least one of you could get some more information out of Marc.

Things didn’t go as planned.

You returned home, assuming your fiancé would be there, just the same as the previous, fateful, sobriety-breaking night, but no one was home.

You looked around the flat, texted, called. Started dinner. Texted.

Took a shower, called. Called the university library - no Steven.

Shit.

Dinner was cold, you had texted the boys a novel, likely filled up their mailbox with voicemails. It was a desperate look - you were aware, but the worst thing you could imagine, aside from the actual worst thing that could happen to a person, was that maybe Marc was on a bender somewhere? It wasn’t exactly his drinking style, even back in the day, but...

Your feet were going to wear holes in the goldfish socks from all the pacing. It was past bedtime, midnight, 1am...should you call the police?

You were now truly, deep-in-your-bones terrified. In four years, neither Steven or Marc had ever just disappeared like this, not without telling you. Sometimes they could be a little radio silent when Khonshu was involved, but...

Maybe they weren’t them. Maybe it was the other. The new alter. Well, new to your boys anyway. You didn’t know anything about him, but one of the first things you wanted to know was - did he possess the ability to reply to a damn text message?

You got your answer twenty minutes later when you heard the slightest thump come from your bedroom. Hoping you had imagined the sound in your intense worry, you engaged in stupid-horror-movie-behavior and went to check out the sound, in the dark.

The moonlit profile of your fiancé sent a dozen feelings through your mind and heart at once, but as usual, you went with the borderline comical response first.

“Did you just come in through the window?”

Dark eyes snapped over to you as...Marc? pulled a flat cap off his head, loosening his curls. Tossing it to the side, he reached for the fingers of dark leather gloves, pulling them loose one at a time, but saying nothing.

You gulped. “Marc?”

Once the fingers of his glove were loosened, he discarded it and reached to work on the other hand, his body language holding none of Marc’s sorrowful tension, nor Steven’s anxious hunching. He moved with ease, dropping his second glove before pulling off his leather jacket. One you’d never seen, actually. You could tell that even in the dark.

Then he eased toward you confidently, like a panther, reaching to pull loose the tie around his neck. Okay, not Marc.

Once the dark tie was free of his neck, he toyed with it in his hands, wrapping it around one fist as his head cocked to the side.

You forgot to breathe for a second.

He finally let the thin fabric drift down to the floor and reached for the buttons of his white shirt.

Okay, enough. “You’re not Marc,” you uttered desperately, taking one step back. “Are you?”

He matched your step backward with a step forward. Then he shook his head once.

Oh. What had Marc said this morning? “L-Lockley? Is that right?”

He froze.

You decided, in that fleeting moment, to deal with the reality in front of you. You drew a steadying breath, releasing the fear and worry that had plagued you all night. Clearly, he was right in front of you, so he was at least safe. And despite the very distracting sort of striptease thing he just did, he admitted he was another.

So you weren’t going to be afraid anymore and give in to bullshit stereotypes.

You stepped forward. “Do you know who I am? I live here, with you.”

He nodded.

He was frustrating, this one. Sighing, you rubbed your tired eyes. “Have we met before, Lockley?”

The slightest smirk pulled up the corner of his mouth.

“Jake.”

He inched closer.

“But you can call me anything you want.”

Well, damn. Huffing out a laugh, you quickly regained your footing. “Smooth. Never heard that one before...Lockley.”

His smirk eased into the slightest smile, but his eyes remained dark, boring into yours before tracing down the shape of your body.

“I can see why they’re so taken with you, muñeca(o).”

You always knew the right thing to say with Marc and Steven like 100%, all the time, but damn if this window-crawling, stripteasing man with the velvety chocolate voice didn’t have you stumped.

Showing you a bit of pity, he extended his hand, offering a proper introduction. “Jake Lockley.”

But once you extended your own hand, he gently grasped your fingers, bending over slightly to lay a kiss to your knuckles.

“Pleasure,” you shot back, taking his hand and kissing it right back.

He chuckled lowly as you retreated.

“Listen, Jake,” you said his first name pointedly, “I’m glad you’re okay. I was really worried tonight. Do you happen to know where my fiancé’s phone is?”

Eyeing you carefully, he reached down to grab his leather jacket, producing Marc and Steven’s phone from the pocket. Handing it over as a peace offering, you sighed, a little relieved it wasn’t lost, only to realize it was powered off.

“Do you always turn off their phone?” You challenged, attempting to turn it on when you realized...

“It’s dead,” he explained, seeming the slightest bit unsure for the first time this evening. “I was going to...I thought you would be asleep.”

You frowned, confused.

“When I got back,” he clarified, his accent clearly American, although from a different region than Marc’s, it seemed. “I thought you would be asleep, like usual, and when you woke up, one of them would be with you.”

“Like usual?” You gasped. “You come in through the window while I’m asleep...like usual?”

Shit, it kind of sounded creepy said aloud like that. Jake knew meeting you would be a disaster. He really should have paid attention to whether you were really sleeping before he ninja’d his way inside.

“Look, cariño, don’t worry about it,” he deflected, returning to the task of unbuttoning his shirt. “I’ll be gone as soon as I fall asleep.”

“No,” you protested, moving close to him - as close as you dared. “No, I don’t want you to go. I just met you.”

His confident, dark gaze softened, and he almost dared to hope...

“Look,” you tried again, “I just want to know why we haven’t met before. And why Marc is so upset. And why is he drinking again--”

“Marc was drinking? Shit,” he uttered, pacing away from you. Jake had always successfully evaded his alters, and made a point to do so as he continued their life in the service of Khonshu.

He should have seen this coming. Most of the scum he took care of in the dark of night didn’t even make him break a sweat, with or without the healing armor of an ancient god. But as word of a powerful nighttime avenger spread in the underworld of London, threats arose equal to the threat Jake posed.

Just a few days ago, some asshole with powers of his own got the better of him, knocking him out cold. Jake had assumed that Khonshu had intervened but now he wondered...

If Marc woke up in the Moon Knight suit, he would absolutely freak the hell out. Which...now that he thought about it, he had no memory of getting home that night.

This was just perfect. Jake could live without Marc and Steven knowing about him. He’d lived that way all this time, but you were something else. He hadn’t wanted to meet you like this. He had screwed up, and now you were only worried about Marc. He was worried too, honestly.

Now you would never want to know him.

#with you fic #marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #jake lockley x reader #gn reader #moon knight fic #moon knight fanfiction #steven grant #marc spector #jake lockley #oscar isaac fic #mcu #moon knight #marc spector x you #steven grant x you #jake lockley x you

1K notes · View notes

lucysarah-c · 1 year ago

Note

Can you do a request for bedhead Levi when he is just waking up? Thanks!

Hi, love! How are you? I hope you're doing great! Something you should know about me is that writing daily/mundane Levi is MY FAVORITE LEVI; therefore, I loved this one! Since you clarified to me that you just wanted early morning Levi, no need for it to be romantic. Here it goes!

Tiptoes running cold, shoulder blades aching painfully, saliva dropping to his chin. Contouring uneasy, paper sticking to his humid face. A numbling feeling down his folded arms as he softly peeked over them. He had fallen asleep on his desk... again. Slouched against the desk's chair, feeling the chenille relaxing sensation against his cheek as he rubbed his head against the furniture, like a cat against a leg.

A pointless search for relaxation again, as he had learned the hard way that once he had woken up, it was too late. His insomnia wouldn't allow much rest, or perhaps it was that the second his mind was slightly awake, it had the arduous and tireless task of reminding him how much work he had left—an endless mental to-do list.

Pale fingers brushed against his face, applying pressure to the bridge of his nose and rubbing his sticky eyes. The headache was an announced occurrence, perhaps due to the heavy strain on his neck… was it from sleeping on a desk? Absolutely. Did he have any intentions of changing that habit? No. Levi considered himself an "old dog" that doesn't learn new tricks, despite picking up new skills every day to improve his 3DMG performance. Old habits die hard.

Hearing the bird chirping from the window behind was relaxing; the earliness of the morning was something he valued. The calmness, the silence, the peace – a mellow feeling that lingered with an anxious anticipation of the upcoming routine or, perhaps, something worse, but he was unsure of what. Soldiers are always in fear of something, an unknown source of danger that is extremely vivid.

A loud scoff, echoed steps against the wooden planks as he finally stood up. His legs hurt because, once again, sleeping sat down at his desk wasn't a healthy practice for his blood circulation. Groan after groan escaped him as he did some daily stretches. It was like a drop of water for a starving man, soothing his exhausted muscles. Checking his reflection in the mirror, a swirl of hair in the top back of his head, locks pointing upwards, and the rough sensation under his fingertips as he caressed his face was noticeable. He sighed, tired and resigned. The shower turned on, waiting for the water to warm up.

Five minutes, a quick and effective military shower. Everything in Levi's life is measured in millimeters; this man is a man of discipline and order. It's hard to believe he was ever a thug. Towel around his hips, toothbrush in his mouth, free hand whipping the brush to create the shaving cream. Spitting in the sink, not wasting a second, he was already getting ready to achieve a clean appearance. Hair quickly accommodated with the wetness of the fresh shower, a sharp razor carefully caressing his neck. Days like this made him wish he wasn't so stupidly pale and his hair wasn't so dark. A bad combination.

Tidying up his room, folding papers back to their respective places for easy retrieval later, softly removing any dust that could have accumulated on any surface, brooming the place, and making the bed. The bed was immaculate and would remain that way; each morning he made the promise of extending the sheets so he would just have to jump right in when he got tired later on. He broke that promise almost every night. Tightening up the cravat around his neck, checking the weather through the window, he opened it to let the fresh air come in. It was a perfect day for 3DMG practice, so he tightened up his harness. The wings of freedom were on his back.

With a quick pace down the hallways, he knocked three times at Hange's office. 'They always oversleep,' he thought. At this rate, either they always oversleep or they are using him as an alarm clock. Brewing his own tea, the only luxury he allowed himself to buy, only to pair up with the breakfast tray everybody got. Sharing the meal with his team, he considered it an important bonding moment with the rest of the soldiers, or at least it was with his previous squad.

Who thought that waking teens up at 6 am was a good idea? Armin was basically asleep, resting his head on Jean's shoulder. Jean and Eren were arguing across the table, Connie was sleeping with crossed arms over the surface. Sasha and Eren were pushing food down their throats. Loudness, noises, high-pitched comments as the teens talked to each other. Levi wrinkled his nose, unsure if it was because most of the boys and Sasha were eating with their mouths open or the stink from the teens. 'Titans kill people, not soap and water for fuck's sake,' he thought. Then, 'You're supposed to eat with your mouth, not your clothes, Eren; pigs eat tidier!'

Fingers around his tea cup, deep breath in, counting in his mind, trying to find any piece of remaining patience left in him. The heat of the ceramic, the smell of a good brew invading his senses. Peace, peace at least in some form.

"Captain?" Eren's childish voice came from his right, breaking the mental relaxation. Slowly opening his eyes, silently checking on the titan shifter. "Today we will have 3DMG training?"

"Yes," he replied slowly. The smile on the teen's face, the happiness. 'Like a kid in a candy store,' he thought. He would even dare to admit to himself that the ridiculously childishness was almost endearing; it could have made a subtle smile appear on his face with the rest of his team cutely asking if "he slept well."

Until… "Jean! Stop kicking me under the table!" "I'm not kicking you; I'm simply taller! I need more space!" "You're only 5cm taller, you asshole!" mixed with Sasha pushing a bread down her throat.

Dead tired eyes admired the scene, 'I love my job… I swear I do.'

Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @jimoonbeau @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @i-literally-cant-with-this @angelofthorr @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @trashblackrainbow @l3visthighs @hum4n-wr3ckag3 Wanna join my tag list? Here!

288 notes · View notes

phoward89 · 10 months ago

Text

Summary: The morning after your impromptu sleepover, Coriolanus convinces you to take a shower with him before breakfast. Things heat up and suddenly you and your best friend become friends with benefits.

Warnings: Coriolanus Snow is a warning himself! Cussing, possessiveness, Dark!Coriolanus Snow, manipulation, cheating, kissing, impact play (spanking), fingering (f receiving), hand job (m receiving), thoughts of murder

Series Masterlist

Chapter 4:

You woke up to Coryo stroking your cheek; his groggy voice whispering, “Time to wake up, little dove.”

“But I'm comfy.” You groaned, sleep heavy in your voice.

“I know, I'm comfortable with you wrapped in my arms, sleeping, as well. But, we need to shower and dress before eating breakfast and going to the Academy.”

“I know.” You sighed, making no effort to move.

“Get up, Y/N.” Coryo lightly smacked your ass, causing you to let out a tiny gasp.

“Why'd you spank me, Coryo?” You asked, looking at him with a slightly open mouth, shocked that your best friend had spanked you.

“Because, my little dove, you're being a bad girl and bad girls get spankings.” Coryo smirked, voice low and husky only to bring his hand up and give you another smack on the ass. Kneading your ass cheek in a soothing manner, he told you, “Now, if you don't want anymore you'll get up.”

“Fine, I'll get up.” You sighed, only to carefully sling yourself off of the lanky blonde you used as a mattress the previous night.

“Your spare uniform's in my closet from the last time we did this.” Your best friend told you while sitting up. His platinum blonde curls sticking up every which way.

“Cute bedhead, Coryo.” You teased him before heading over to the door.

“You're insufferable, dove. You know that?” He asked, following right behind you.

Stopping right in front of the door, you turned around to look at him. “Don't follow me, Coryo. I need to go shower.”

“That's why I'm following you, Y/N. I need to shower too and since there's 4 of us in the penthouse, we need to shower together to conserve water.’

“But-” You started to protest, voice soft and shaky, only for Coriolanus to cut you off with a slick and charming argument of, “Don't be selfish, little dove. We can't risk using up all the water by taking separate showers. It isn't fair to Tigris or Grandma’am; they deserve to be able to shower this morning too.”

“Fine…” You reluctantly sigh, but only because you don't want to risk either Tigris or Grandma'am not being able to have a shower due to the lack of hot water. “But you can't look at me.”

“Can’t look at you? Little Dove, now you're being silly. How can we shower together without looking at each other?” Coriolanus asked, his brow raised mockingly at you, while reaching around you and opening his bedroom door.

“Stand behind me or close your eyes.” You suggested, walking out of the room. “I dunno, but I'm seeing Sejanus now so we shouldn't be looking at each other naked in the shower.” You added in, heading to the shower with Coryo hot on your heels.

Sejanus.

God, just his name made Coriolanus’ blood boil. How could you seriously want to continue seeing him after one miserable date. A date that he crashed and ruined.

Well, Coriolanus isn't happy that you don't want him to see you naked in the shower because you don't want to cheat on Sejanus, but that's not going to stop him. He's going to see you, all of you, in the flesh underneath the spraying water of his shower head whether you like it or not. You're his innocent little dove. Coryo knows he'll be able to manipulate you into doing what he wants you to do. Which is letting him see you naked.

Even though you told your best friend that you didn't want him to see you naked (other than your backside), you somehow ended up facing him, showing off your body. You don't even know how it happened, really. One minute you were in front of him, rinsing your hair, and the next you were facing him after trading places so that he could wash his hair with the black market goop that barely qualifies as shampoo.

“You're beautiful.” Coriolanus complimented you, a lopsided smile on his face, as he let the water from the showerhead rain down on his head full of luscious blonde curls.

“Coriolanus!” You shrieked, smacking him on his chest. “You promised you wouldn't look.”

“It's kind of hard not to, with us sharing the shower head to wash up.” Your best friend told you, his long fingers lathering the goopy shampoo in his hair.

You felt a tingle between your legs watching his long lithe fingers massaging his scalp as his crystal clear blue eyes raked over your wet body. You felt your skin prickle with heat as you tried to keep your eyes from roaming down over him.

“We've been the bestest of friends since we were little, dove. You don't have to feel weird or self conscious about me looking at your body. You know, if you're afraid of me making fun of your body, don't be. You're very beautiful without clothes on.”

Feeling conflicted, you heavily sighed, “Coryo…”

“Will you just let yourself feel comfortable in this moment with me, Y/N?” Coriolanus bit out, rinsing the bubbles out of his light blonde curls. His eyes were shut, to prevent the cheap soap from stinging his eyes, as he ticked off the reasons you should feel comfortable with him. “I've always been your constant in your life since we were kids. I always protected you during the Dark Days; always been by your side during everything. You can tell me anything and I'll do anything for you, little dove. Just, stop acting like sharing the shower with me’s a death sentence.”

Coryo's last sentence made you feel bad. You didn't realize how badly you've hurt his feelings. It's not that you felt sharing the shower with him's a death sentence, it's just that you're feeling a bit nervous. Uncomfortable even.

Before you could think better of it, you closed the distance between the two of you, only to wrap your arms around him in a hug. The water sprayed down on the two of you as you rested your head on his wet chest. “I'm sorry for making you feel bad, Coryo. I didn't mean to, it's just that being in here with you’s got me a bit nervous.”

Coryo hugged you back, his arms holding you tight against him. His chin rested on your wet hair as he told you, “There's nothing to be nervous about, little dove. It's just me; you know I care about you and wouldn't hurt you. Right?”

“Yea, I know.” You nodded against your best friend's chest as the water continued to pelt down on you. “It's just, you know…”

“Never seen a guy naked before? Never been seen naked by a guy before, yeah?” Coriolanus supplied, as if he was literally reading your thoughts. It took your breath away, how well he knew you. It rendered you speechless. “It's okay to be nervous, my sweet girl, but use your words and talk to me about it instead of treating me like shit.”

“Coryo, I already told you I'm sorry.” You told him, lifting your head up and locking your eyes with his baby blues.

Coryo nodded, only to unwrap his arms from your body. He didn't say a word, just cupped your cheeks with his hands and kissed you. Your brain went black as his lips kept sweeping over yours. And when you finally responded to the kiss by pressing your lips against his, he pushed you against the cool tile wall of the shower.

You felt his hardness press against your stomach, leaking precum onto your soft skin, as his tongue swept over your bottom lip while kissing. The feel of his hard cock against your stomach broke the trance you were in. Breaking the kiss, your eyes fell to the curly blonde's shoulder. “Coryo, we can't. I'm with Sej.” You weakly protested as a slight pang of guilt hit your gut.

What were you doing? Were you really cheating on Sejanus after only a couple of days into the new relationship? What's wrong with you? You shouldn't be naked in the shower, pressed up against Coryo sharing heated kisses.

“Y/N, my little dove, stop worrying about cheating on Sejanus.” Coryo told you, his jaw ticking and he held back the urge to scream. He was getting so annoyed with your concern about your little district dog. Sejanus didn't matter to you, but he did. Why couldn't you see that? Placing his knuckles under your chin and tipping it up; making your guilt ridden eyes meet his baby blues, he smoothly told you, “We’re not doing anything wrong, dove. We're the bestest of best friends; sometimes best friends have some benefits.”

“Benefits?” You asked, voice barely above a whisper.

“Yea.” Coryo nodded, a thin smile spread across his lush lips. “Mhm…” He hummed. “Only the very special best friends become friends with benefits.” He told you, trailing his hands down your neck and over your collar bone, only to rest them on your boobs. “We can help each other explore and learn things, be each other's first and not worry about being laughed at for fumbling and not knowing what to do.” The platinum blonde said while kneading your tits, occasionally swiping his thumbs over your nipples.

“But Sejanus…” You sighed, feeling torn between the lustful feelings your best friend was stoking and the loyalty you wanted to give your boyfriend. Your sweet Sejanus that seemed so nice; the boy that your mother was so happy about you seeing.

But it seemed that your best friend, your constant in your life since you were a little girl, Coryo was drawing you in like a moth to a flame.

“Don't worry about him right now, Y/N. Just worry about me.” Coryo told you, water droplets rolling down his skin as his icy blue eyes bore into your frightened soul, holding you in place. You were frozen, unable to move an inch, as he said, “Just focus on me and how good I can make you feel; how good we can make each other feel.”, while moving one hand low, only to stroke over your lower stomach.

He leaned his head close to your ear, his breath hot as he whispered, “Let's be special best friends with benefits, little dove.” His hand dipped between your legs, his long finger slowly slipping between your wet folds as he uttered the soft, manipulative words of, “Let's navigate learning how to do things, how to make our bodies feel good together without the fear of being judged for fumbling; being nervous.”

One single reason why you should say no popped into your head, but a plethora of reasons why you should agree; say yes to Coryo's suggestion filled your mind.

Being friends with benefits with your best friend couldn't be wrong, could it? Not when it felt so good, the way he was slowly taking his time to run his finger up and down your slit; bumping against your clit only to tease your tight hole by pressing his fingertip right at the entrance.

“Okay.” You nodded. With lust glazing over your eyes, you said, “Let's do it, Coryo. Let's be best friends with special benefits.”

Hearing you say that sent all of the blood coursing through Coryo's body straight to his dick. He was so excited that you agreed to be his. Screw Sejanus, ‘your boyfriend'. He was going to have all of your firsts. Him, your best friend, your Coryo, was going to do everything to you.

Ruin you.

But that was fine since you're only ever going to know him in the biblical sense.

Coriolanus nibbled the spot below your ear, kissing along your neck as he rubbed circles on your clit with his finger. He smiled into your neck when he heard you let out a whimper of pleasure.

Lifting his head to look at you, he took your hand in his free one and brought it to his large cock. “You can touch me too, baby.”

You didn't say a word, just nodded while letting him wrap your hand around his cock. A cock that was thick and long with veins running alongside it.

“You're big.” You told him in awe. He had to be about 8 inches. Oh god, you didn't even know a cock could be so big.

Of course you didn't, you were a naive and innocent girl. Probably one of the only virgins out of your class in the Academy. Well…other than Coryo…but he's a boy, so…

“Yeah, you think you?” The platinum blonde asked, a teasing glint in his eyes as he prodded open your tight, wet hole with his long finger.

“Mhm…” You whined as you felt him slowly start to finger you.

“Rub your thumb against my tip.” He told you, causing you to nod and do just that. Rub your thumb against his tip; spreading the precum around. He let out a tiny moan, only to ask you, “You like how I'm fingering you, baby? Feel good?”

“Yea, it feels good.” You sighed, starting to slowly pump his cock up and down experimentally.

“Grip me a little bit tighter, dove.” Coryo instructed while swiping his thumb over your clit.

“Coryo.” You gasped, feeling a jolt shoot right thru you from his touch.

“Want me to add another finger?” He asked, a smug look on his face. Making you moan and gasp was giving him an ego boost.

“Yes, please” You practically begged while gripping him tighter and jerking him faster, just like he told you too.

Coryo added a second finger inside of your aching cunt, only to curl his fingers and search for your spongy spot. All while you kept pumping his cock just the way he liked. Little whimpers groans escaped his lips as he prodded you, determined to find your special spot.

“Coryo!” You loudly shrieked, feeling pleasure course throughout your entire body as his fingers pressed into that special spongy spot deep inside of your pussy.

“Shit, little dove, don't be so loud. Don't wanna get caught fucking around, do we, baby?” He hissed, only to capture your lips with his in a bruising kiss.

The kids was hungry and heated. The blonde was determined to swallow all of your moans as you two got each other off.

The sound of the water spray in the shower did nothing to mask the lead noises of his fingers furiously positioning in and out of your pussy. The sound of your hand jerking off his cock, the echo of the fast movents, weren't shielded by the water pelting down in the shower either. In fact the Sounds of your actions seemed to drown out the sound the water made as it sprayed out of the shower head, pelting down onto your bodies and the shower tiles.

Coryo broke your heated kiss only to lean his drenched forehead against yours. “I feel your cunt tightly clenching my fingers, Y/N.” He half moaned. “Are you close, baby? Cause I'm close, my little dove, but I wanna wait for you.”

“I'm so close, Coryo. So close.” You panted. Trying not to moan too loudly, asked him, “I need to cum, Coryo. Can we cum together?”

“Of course we can cum together. Wouldn't want it any other way.” He told you, only to start snapping his hips- fucking your fist, while fingering you faster and deeper while rubbing hard, fast circles into your clit.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He cursed as he felt his heavy balls tighten up. “Gonna cum, baby.” Coryo whined. “Cum right now for me, Y/N. Cum with me, little dove.” He demanded, teeth gritted as he started to cum.

You felt the warm white rope of his cum shoot out onto your leg, causing you to cum hard around Coryo's fingers while moaning a mix of his name and curses.

After your exciting shower with Coryo, you two scurried back to his room (before anyone caught you together in the shower) and got dressed into your Academy uniforms.

Once dressed, the two of you went into the kitchen to get started of breakfast. Which in the Snow house breakfast was the same as lunch and dinner- soggy, flavorless boiled cabbage and watery brother. You weren't a fan of it, considering you hate a fair share of the stuff as well. At least your mother was able to acquire some cheap meat (probably dog, cat, or rat) to add to the green leafy vegetable. And since your mother didn't have a steady job, you didn't even want to ask how she could afford the mystery meat.

You knew. Coriolanus told you that it was the same thing his cousin, Tigris, was doing to afford his new-used pants and too small shoes, but you didn't want to think about it. If you did t acknowledge it, then it wasn't happening.

Right?

Anyways, when you went to the kitchen to start on breakfast, you saw that Tigris was already in the room. She was standing over the pot boiling on the stove, stirring it like a witches brew.

“Oh, Y/N, I wasn't aware that you slept over last night.” Tigris remarked, a thin smile on her face as her blue eyes bounced between you and her cousin.

“She went on a date last night with Sejanus; lost track of time and slept over so she wouldn't get in trouble for waking her mom up by getting in late.” Coriolanus explained while taking over the cabbage cooking duty from his cousin.

“Oh.” Tigris nodded before excusing herself to go get ready for the day, since she was still on her nightdress and robe.

“I should go get my books and stuff.”

“We can get it after breakfast, little dove.”

“The cabbage is going to take a while to cook, I can grab my books and be back in time to eat.”

“Or you can grab your books and have Sej pick you up; take you for chocolate croissants and macchiatos.” Your best friend snapped, his baritone full of jealousy, as he stirred the cabbage with harsh movements.

Taken back by his jealousy, you told him, “Coryo, stop acting like that. You're my best friend, I'm not going to ditch you for breakfast.”

Turning away from the stock pot, Coryo asked, “What if he wants you to ditch me one day?” Getting right up into your personal space, he lowly hissed, “Huh, baby? Would you do that, leave me for him?” His icy blue eyes glinted with an unchecked emotion as he bitterly asked, “Leave your special best friend with benefits for your boyfriend, that obviously feels threatened by me?”

“No.” You shook your head. Placing your hands on his shoulders, you reassured him, “You're everything to me, Coryo. You're my best friend and have always been there; I need you in my life.”

Your words made Coriolanus' dark, possessive, obsessive, black, dead heart soar and beat with life. He knew that he now had you where he wanted you. All he had to do was get that stupid boyfriend of yours out of the picture.

Then he'll have you all to himself.

But, since you were in his arms all night and he had his fingers deep in your perfect wet pussy this morning, he wasn't able to start planning how to get right of that pesky problem.

Your boyfriend.

Sejanus Plinth.

All he knew was that he had to kill him to permanently get him out of the picture. But one wrong move could cost him you forever.

He couldn't have that.

No…

Coriolanus needed you just like he needed air to breathe. You were his life force.

So to ensure that he kept you by his side once Sejanus us was eliminated, he had to carefully plan his actions.

“And I need you, little dove. So much too.” Coryo honestly admitted to you. Pulling back and returning to the stove, he sighed, “Go ahead and get your stuff. But hurry back here, Grandma'am going to start sing The Gem Of Panem soon and if I have to endure that torture then so do you.”

You went over to Coryo and gave him a friendly peck on the cheek. “Dont worry, I'll be back in time to listen to Grandma’am’s beautiful opera rentirion of the anthem.” You told him before skipping off to go to the 8th floor to grab your things for school from your own apartment.

As Coryo stirred the nasty cabbage soup l, he couldn't help but feel that this is what your lives would be like if you lived with him. Then, he had an epiphany. Your life will be like that after he kills Sejanus because, while your besides yourself with grief, he'll convince you to move in with him and his family.

Where he'll be able to take care of you. Be your shoulder to cry on and the man to fuck you into the mattress until all thoughts of your dead boyfriend disappear from your head.

Oh yes, Coriolanus Snow was going to win his prize. He was going to win you and soon.

Because Snow always lands on top.

Tags: @kuroosbby001, @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord, @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur, @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak, @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth

158 notes · View notes

writingtraumaforever · 14 days ago

Text

Uncontrolled Chaos: Chapter 26

Notes: I want to apologize for the wait. Those who keep up with me on tumblr already know, but for those who don't, my beloved pet hedgehog passed away earlier this week. This has put me in quite a mentally dizzying place, and sitting down to focus on writing is difficult currently. Between this and upcoming holidays, I have struggled with putting any real effort into my writing. Which sucks, and I apologize. I hope to be back to normal soon, but I do struggle with depression and anxiety. So recovering from things like death has always been hard for me since my mind's go-to is to go numb. Maybe the Sonic movie will cheer me up. Either way, I do hope to have at least a few more chapters of Uncontrolled Chaos out before the holidays as well as a new addition to the Courtship Series. Thank you to everyone who has been patient with me. Sorry if this chapter has errors or seems down. I do admittedly think my mental state likely leaked into the writing, sadly. But I won't be posting another one if I'm not happy with it, so hopefully the next will be better! Love you all!

Summary: Sonic regrets his honesty with Shads from the night before.

UC Masterpost!

Link to my AO3!

Start:

Sonic wakes up to his head throbbing and his neck feeling tense and achy. Groaning quietly at the unpleasant feelings, he rolls onto his back to open his eyes up at the ceiling. Lifting his gloved fists to rub at his eyes, he yawns heavy and sighs after as he tries to process what happened last night and why he isn’t in his room.

Right.

Rouge stayed the night.

Amy arrived and did the same.

He and Shads shared the guest room..

Him and Shads shared the guest room—

Sonic quickly sits up, eyes wide as he looks to the spot Shadow was suppose to be sleeping in beside him. It’s empty. Bed neatly made on that side only with the covers tucked under the mattress and the pillow fluffed and laying in its spot against the wall.

Shit. They—they talked last night, didn’t they??? Sonic’s stupid exhaustion got him all honest and fuzzy and dumb and he said too much.

He told him about the inhibitor ring.

A stroke of panic settles over Sonic as his hands reach back frantically to search for it in his quills. Nowhere. He can’t feel it in its usual place nor anywhere else inside his messy bedhead. He can’t lose that, Shads can’t take it from him, he—he needs that, it’s Shadow’s! It’s his reminder that Shadow will come back! That Sonic won’t lose him—

His eyes catch a glimpse of a sparkle in the corners of them, immediately turning his head to see the inhibitor ring settled safely on the nightstand next to his side of the bed.. gleaming in the morning light pouring through the window.

Relief washes over the blue blur, reaching for it a bit shakily before curling his fingers around it. Delicate at first, and then gripping it with a vice. He closes his eyes and holds it to his chest with knitted brows as he calms his pounding heart.

There’s no reason for this to make him as upset as it did.. there’s no reason for Sonic to be so damn attached to Shadow so suddenly..

Except it’s not really sudden, is it??

Sonic has always wanted to be near Shadow. Ever since they met, Sonic has— as he was explaining to Shads just last night— felt connected to him. He’s simply never known how to express it.. especially with Shadow always acting as though Sonic is such a pain to be around..

Every time Sonic has come across Shadow, the hero stuck around. Whether it be to see how he’s doing or to banter with him or even battle.. he just-.. he wants to be around him. Any of his attention, good or bad. He’ll take what he can get.

Geez, he’s really getting how Amy felt back when she was young and had a crush on him—

Ya’know what?? That was a weird thing to think! Because Sonic definitely doesn’t have a crush on Shadow! Ugh! Gross! It’s a brother thing! Yup!

Once he’s calmed himself down, he opens his eyes to look the inhibitor ring over a moment. Mind thoughtless but yet so full at the same time. Unable to process any of it due to being a bit overwhelmed.

He tucks it back into his quills and moves to get up from the bed, sliding his socked feet into his shoes and heading towards the bedroom door.

Opening the door, his ear twitches at the sound of quietly talking and giggles from downstairs. Familiar ones. Amy’s. She must be up already. Not a shock, she’s always been a morning person. He glances down the hall to see Rouge’s room is still shut. Likely sleeping in some since they can’t really get started without Knuckles and Tails here to help anyway. Plus, bats tend to be more evening and night Mobians than morning ones. Walking down the stairs, he smells both coffee and tea as well as what he thinks is bacon.. and eggs.

His stomach growls in response, yawning again as he hops down from the bottom step and peeks into the living room to see Amy and Shadow both speaking low to one another as to not wake anyone up. Amy is all kinds of giddy about whatever Shads is talking about, Shadow smiling and seeming amused at her reaction. He also just seems so… comforted by her. In a way he hasn’t been with anyone else. He imagines she’s the most familiar thing he’s crossed in this world given Amy is kind to anyone in every world. While Shadow’s relationship with Rouge and Sonic seems drastically different in each world, his relationship with Amy seems relatively consistent.

His stomach does give an uncomfortable flip, though. The way it always does when he sees his own Shadow and Amy together.

Not jealous.

Envious..

Despite this, Sonic decides not to interrupt them for now, let them have some time together to decompress before things get crazy.

Instead, the hero moves into the kitchen across the hall, following his nose to find two bacon and egg omelettes hidden in the microwave. He assumes they were saved for him and Rouge, so he pulls one out and leaves the other for the bat. Closing the microwave, he then moves to grab himself some of the tea remaining in a little kettle. Amy likely made it since she’s a tea-person. Shadow is definitely the one who made the coffee. Rouge will probably finish it off when she wakes up. The few times Sonic has ran into Shadow in public places, it’s often in coffee shops. Shadow getting him and Rouge’s coffee order on his lunch break only to return to work at GUN after.

Pouring him some tea and adding some sugar, he hops up to sit himself on the counter by the window and watch the birds flutter about and the clouds pass as he enjoys his quiet breakfast. As much as he’s hated being alone since his friends left, he has grown accustom to quiet mornings to just.. take in the new day. The sky seems pretty clear, big fluffy white clouds speckled here and there. No signs of rain. And the glass feels warm when Sonic presses his arm against it, so it’s likely a relatively toasty day. Good. Maybe Sonic can sneak a run in before they really get started on all this. Clear his head some after last night..

He wasn’t really ready to face Shads after falling apart on him like that. Having a panic attack in front of someone you just met doesn’t exactly scream ‘hero’. Wouldn’t be surprised if Shads decides Sonic is too mentally unwell and needs to sit this whole adventure out.

Hell… if Sonic was real honest with himself, he may actually agree.

He hasn’t been doing too well for awhile. And Starfall Islands just seemed to highlight all of his baggage. But he kept a good mask on for his friends.. even if that wasn’t exactly the most healthy decision either.

Maybe Shads was right. Maybe he should open up to them all some more so he didn’t trauma dump on the first person who hops into their dimension and asks if he’s okay.

Then again, if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it, right?? And no one has really seemed to take much notice in him being a bit more off than usual. Sure they all left him to find their own journeys or whatever, but they still considered him their hero. Their leader..

He couldn’t do anything to dampen that..

He had a duty, a title to uphold.

So he decides then and there to be stronger. Better. The exact opposite of everything Shads has been trying to tell him. Because maybe if his friends come back and see him back to his normal, heroic and carefree self, they won’t want to leave him..

“Tea good?”

Sonic’s eyes widen a bit as his head whips around to see Shadow standing there eyeing him. And the look on the hybrid’s face.. it’s like he can read Sonic’s mind. There’s slight disapprovement in his gaze, worry clear.. how he eyes Sonic as if he’s taking in his every thought and can read him like an open book. And maybe he can? He does know his Sonic better in his world. Perhaps he’s picked up on some of Sonic’s mannerisms.

Either way, Sonic does what he does best and puts on a smile and nods, “Yup! Really hits the spot in the morning.”

“Mm,” the hybrid hums, walking closer to pick up the coffee pot and pour more into his mug. His eyes never leave Sonic.

“…Sleep well?”

“Like a baby,” the hero replies, trying not to cringe at his choice of words considering he practically overwhelmed himself to sleep last night.

“Good,” Shadow places the coffee pot back down, lifting his mug to take a sip as he eyes Sonic, “…Are you doing alright after—“

“So Amy forcing you to tell her all the deets of your world??” Sonic interrupts, not wanting the conversation to go where he knows Shads was leading it.

Shadow doesn’t answer for a moment, a heavy sigh escaping his nose as if he’s tired or disappointed or something only to then nod and offer a tiny smile, “Yes, very much so.”

“Shame I’m missing it,” Sonic smirks as he pushes himself off the counter to place his now empty teacup and plate in the sink, “I’m sure she’s totally enthralled by your stories, though.”

“She is,” Shadow nods, seeming to try and smile but it’s not reaching his eyes, “..it’s nice having someone whose relationship with me is relatively the same.”

“I figured,” Sonic smiles understandingly, “It’s why I didn’t want to interrupt..”

“You sure it’s not because you were avoiding last night??”

Sonic’s smile disappears. Shadow’s does too.

They stare at each other a long moment, Sonic’s brows furrowing a bit at being called out and Shadow’s knitting up in concern for Sonic’s obvious avoidance..

“…I’m gonna go for a run,” Sonic eventually says, turning to leave only to feel a hand suddenly wrap around his elbow to stop him.

“Don’t,” Shadow’s voice is quiet. Pleading. “…Stop running..”

Sonic’s ears bend back at this, keeping his back to Shadow as he’s unable to meet his gaze in that moment. Scared of what he might find..

Scared of how much this Shadow knows him..

And all because his Sonic looked for him—

“Oh! Sonic, you’re awake!” Amy’s voice comes bright and cheery as she enters the kitchen only to pause at the obvious tension and eye the way Shadow is holding onto Sonic.

Shadow immediately lets Sonic go, frowning as he takes a step away from him. Sonic’s eyes meet Amy’s and Amy raises a brow at the two.

“..Everything okay??”

Shadow doesn’t answer. And Sonic knows he’s waiting to see what Sonic’s response is. If it’s honest.

It’s not.

“Yeah!” the hero chimes with a grin, moving to wrap an arm around her and squeeze her up against his side, “Just was about to head out for a run is all. You and Shads catch up??”

Amy eyes Sonic suspiciously but seems to let it slide for now, smiling in response as her own grin turns mischievous, “Oh yes.. we definitely did..”

Sonic blinks at that, looking at her devilishly knowing look and then to Shads who has his arms crossed and a smirk on his face, shaking his head at the pink hedgehog.

“Do I wanna know??” Sonic asks with a nervous little chuckle.

“I think I’d rather just watch how this one plays out,” Amy teases with a wink to Shads before looking back to Sonic, “But you said you were going for a run?”

Sonic, too, let’s it slide.. not wanting even more on his mind than is already there, “Yeah! Just a quick one. Figure I’ll get it in before Rouge gets up and we get this party rolling.”

“Are Knuckles and Tails both coming back??” Amy questions with a hopeful tilt of her head.

“Yup! Gangs gonna be all back together,” Sonic grins enthusiastically to which Amy bounces on her toes excitedly.

“Oh yay yay yay! I’ve missed you all so much! We’ll get this whole thing fixed in no time with everyone together,” she assures, moving from Sonic’s grip to the counter to refill her tea.

She doesn’t see the way Sonic’s smile twitches downward just slightly at that thought..

But Shadow does.

Shadow sees right through him..

#uc series #uncontrolled chaos #sonadow #shadow the hedgehog #sonic the hedgehog #fanfiction #my writing #my fanfiction #sonadow fanfiction #amy rose #rouge the bat

26 notes · View notes

drabblesandimagines · 2 years ago

Text

Good Days & Bad Days

Pairings: Sebastian/reader, Sebastian/farmer

Word count: 1,086

You’d got into the habit of waking a few minutes before your alarm clock. You guessed your circadian rhythm had finally synced itself to the early morning starts. You didn’t mind as long as it wasn’t ages before, but a few minutes was perfect as it meant to you could turn it off before it rang and woke up Sebastian.

It had taken your husband a few months to settle into your early morning routine when he moved onto the farm. He was much better at not going to bed late into the night, but it wasn’t necessary for him to join you at your 6am wake-up call so you did try your best not to disturb him too much when you got up. On occasion, he did get up to make you a coffee before sneaking back to bed but that was fine by you. Although the farm was large, you’d found a good routine to your mornings and you could get most of your everyday tasks done before 10am and have more of the afternoon for other things.

You turned off the alarm and crept out of bed, throwing on your dungarees as quietly as you could for the morning’s graft – you’d take a shower when you were done for the day. You’d checked the weather report the day before and it was meant to start off drizzling before heavy rain settled in early afternoon so you didn’t think any of the animals would be interested in leaving the comfort of the barn, but you’d at least give them the opportunity…

You returned to the house just after nine, calling it time for a coffee break. As you predicted, the animals seemed pretty cosy in their respective buildings and had shown no interest in leaving. You’d giving them all their morning pet – Sebastian had been amazed you could remember which ones you still needed to greet – milked the cows and collected the eggs, done a bit of weeding and got even harvested some vegetables. You had your eyes set on repairing some of the crumbling fence posts but you definitely needed a coffee before you started wielding a hammer.

You were surprised to see Sebastian wasn’t in the kitchen yet and you peeked through the door to see a lump in the bed, huddled under the covers.

You made two cups of coffee and carried them through to the bedroom, placing his mug carefully on his bedside table.

“Morning, sweetheart.” He greeted from underneath the covers, giving you a small fright as you thought he was sound asleep.

“Oh! Morning – I didn’t think you were awake yet. Coffee’s hot.”

“Mm.” He grunted in response, but he didn’t emerge.

“You okay in there?” You sat on the edge of the bed, clutching your own mug of coffee in your hands.

“I just… I just feel like sleeping today.” The lump in the cover mumbled.

“Oh, one of those days, huh?” You squeezed what you thought was a limb – not sure if it was a leg or an arm. “That’s okay, Seb. It’s gonna be a pretty miserable afternoon out there so I don’t think I’ll have a ton to do once that rolls in, but I can go into town and let you sleep.” Sebastian had been honest about his down days from the start of your relationship – they weren’t frequent and usually after some reassurance he had his day and the next was better.

His head popped out under the covers, well, enough to reveal his eyes at least under a mop of bedhead.

“I wouldn’t say no to you joining me back in bed.”

“Oh, yeah?” You smiled, “Hey, we could play video games in bed too, it’s been ages since we’ve done that.” A few months ago, on a trip to Zuzu City, you’d picked up a secondhand games console with some games that you could play as a two or four-player when Sam and Abigail had come round, and a copy of Frogger especially for Sebastian. On your return home, you’d dragged the TV right up to the edge of your bed, plugged in the console and you’d both gamed long into the evening. “And there’s pizza in the freezer. Only if you want to do all that, though.” You quickly added, realizing you’d gone off on a slight tangent of Sebastian’s bed day request.

“No, that sounds nice. Can we do that?”

“Of course we can, Seb. Whatever you want.” You took a big gulp of your coffee. “Mm, I’ll get all the important stuff done before this rain heads in and then take a shower, but then we can do whatever you want.”

“Thanks, sweetheart.”

You kissed his forehead as he stayed buried under the covers. “Go back to sleep if you want, don’t worry about the coffee.”

“Hmm. Are you saying that because you want another cup?”

“Shush, you! I’ll have you know this is my first, actually.” You took another big gulp, “Right, back to the grind. See you in a bit!”

A few hours later, you had showered and dressed in a clean pair of pyjamas and treated yourself to a mid-afternoon nap cuddled up with your husband. Early evening, you’d cooked the pizza and brought it back into bed – cheesy crumbs be damned - before setting up the television and games console at the end of it. It had started off as friendly competition at first, but now you found yourselves competitively nudging each other as you battled through Jumino Kart. You got slightly ahead at one point and suddenly a hand was held over your eyes, leaving you blind as you mashed the buttons in desperation.

“Sabotage!”

You pulled his hand down, only to find he was now further ahead than you and soared past the checkpoint. The screen displayed “Player 1 wins!” and he stuck his tongue out at you as you folded your arms and glared.

“There’s no honour in a cheater’s victory.” You protested.

“Oh, and you blocking my view the last round was totally above board.”

“That’s my handicap as a newer Jumino Kart player.”

“Uh-huh…” Sebastian smirked, before he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you down onto the bed onto his chest in a hug. “Thank you for today, sweetheart.”

“That’s okay, I enjoyed it too.” You cuddled into his chest. “I love you - good days and bad days.”

“I love you - good days and bad days,” he repeated, kissing you on top of your head.

PS: I'm taking requests! Check out my Requests post for further info <3

#short and sweet #sdv x farmer #sdv sebastian x reader #sdv x reader #sdv sebastian #stardew sebastian x reader #fluff writing #ghostdogwrites #stardew valley #sebastian stardew x reader

539 notes · View notes

television-overload · 8 months ago

Text

of our own making

(an X-Files fanfic)

Chapter 9/34 - bedhead

[Read on AO3]

She wakes to something poking her in the face, and blinks blearily in confusion. With furrowed brows, she forces her eyes to focus on whatever is in front of her, and comes face to face with Mulder and his index finger, which gives her one final poke in the cheek.

“You that desperate to be the first one downstairs for present time, Scully?” he asks with an amused smile, leaning over her in the La-Z-Boy, which she somehow managed to stay asleep in all night long. He’s far too cheerful for whatever time it must be in the morning, but one whiff of the air tells her why. Coffee.

He waves a cup of the steaming liquid right below her nose, and it snaps her to attention within seconds, which draws a chuckle out of him. He gives her space to sit up and stretch her aching back before pressing the mug into her hands, ensuring that she has a handle on it before letting go.

“Does it count as being first if you’re asleep?” he asks. “Because if not, me and your nephew have you beat for first and second place. Bill’s been down, too.”

She’s too tired to worry about that. Instead she takes a long draw from her coffee cup and scans over to the tree, where countless beautifully wrapped gifts lay in wait for one terror of a two-year-old and the rest of the family to open them.

“You made coffee?” she asks, her voice raspy from disuse. She wonders what a sight she must be, with mussed bedhead and hair that had been allowed to air-dry after her shower the night before.

“Hope your mom doesn’t mind,” he answers. “Figured I’d try to have a peace offering ready in case Bill came down. I think it paid off.”

Just then, her brother enters the room, glancing over at her disapprovingly but saying nothing. Matthew trails after him with enough energy that Scully half wonders if he’d had a taste of the coffee too, and he plops himself in front of the tree, excitedly asking when he can start opening the presents.

Mulder stands and heads back to the couch, sitting on it casually and taking a sip of his own coffee. The quilt and pillow are nowhere to be seen, so he must have been up for a while. His sleep patterns will never make sense to her.

“Something wrong with your room, Dana?” Bill asks, standing up against the wall despite the open space on the couch next to Mulder.

“Couldn't sleep,” she answers, her tone one of warning should he continue this line of questioning. Thankfully, he gets the hint and shuts his mouth.

Once the caffeine starts to kick in, she excuses herself to go freshen up. When she returns, she casts a glance at the recliner that had served as her bed, and instead opts to sit by her partner. She sips from her refilled coffee mug, basking in the comfortable feeling of an early morning with the people she cares about most in the world all under one roof. Mulder is all soft edges this morning, still clad in flannel pajamas with bedhead that he'd done a poor job of straightening out. There seems to be a permanent contented smile on his face, though, as he watches her nephew agonize over not being able to open a present yet. Maybe he’s remembering a time when he had such zeal for the holiday.

Eventually the remaining Scully family makes their appearance, Tara and Maggie making a quick detour to the kitchen for their own daily dose of caffeine with Charlie right behind them.

“Morning, Fox,” Maggie says cheerfully before stooping to press a kiss to Dana’s cheek. “Sleep well?”

“Fine,” he answers truthfully.

If Bill seethes, Mulder takes no notice of it.

“There's the big bad feds,” Charlie teases, coming up behind them and messing their hair with each of his hands. “How was 'work'?”

Scully shoots him a look, effectively silencing him with her big sister sense of authority. He chuckles and takes a seat on the ground by the fireplace.

With the entire family present and accounted for, Matthew is finally given the go-ahead for tearing into the gift wrapping, exclaiming excitedly with each toy he unwraps from Santa Claus.

“Pass me that green and white one, Matty,” Tara says, pointing to a small box under the tree and relaying it to her mother-in-law. Soon enough, there's a present in every person's hand, Mulder included. He gets some nice tie clips from Maggie and a box of dried meats from Bill and Tara (mostly just Tara, if Scully had to guess). Even Charlie had a package of nice socks to give him, probably a last-minute purchase, but appreciated nonetheless.

Mulder's beaming smile tears at her heart, and she wonders how long it has been since he's had a proper Christmas like this. Surrounded by family, excitement and cheer filling the air. She thinks she knows the answer, and it fills her with sadness.

“Is there a present for Fox from you under here, Dana?” Maggie asks, now kneeling beside her grandson at the foot of the tree.

“Mulder and I already exchanged gifts, Mom,” she answers.

Exchanged a few other things too, she thinks. Most notably: vows.

Her mother looks up with interest. “Oh? What did he get you?”

Scully blushes. She hadn't been prepared to actually answer this question, though she probably should have been. “Oh, um… Jewelry,” she says, resisting the urge to touch the item in question under her shirt.

“Classic,” Charlie says, reaching out to fist bump Mulder.

“Actually, Scully, there is a little something else under that tree for you,” Mulder cuts in.

After last year's ‘we're not exchanging gifts’ gift exchange, she's not surprised, but she gives him an exasperated look anyway. “I thought you might say that,” she says, standing and grabbing a nicely wrapped package from behind the tree and handing it to him. Maggie finds the one Mulder snuck under there and hands it to her daughter, smiling at the two of them as they begin to tear open the paper.

For Mulder, there's a stack of crossword puzzle booklets and other travel sized games—sudoku, mad libs, a deck of cards, even a magnetic pocket-sized chess and checkerboard set that they can take on trips.

“Hey, no more I Spy and tic tac toe!” he says excitedly, flipping through one of the booklets.

With as much as they travel—long hours in cars and planes and airports and motels with spotty satellite TV—they've pretty much used up all their options for passing the time. Their only deck of cards is somehow missing eight cards and has an extra two of hearts that they're not sure where it came from. A replacement pack is long overdue.

“I can't wait to wipe the floor with you at chess,” he says. “Thanks, Scully.”

She returns her attention to the box in her lap, free of paper but otherwise still unopened.

“Go on, open it!” Tara says impatiently, craning her neck to watch as Dana lifts the lid off and peels back the tissue paper inside.

“Oh, Mulder,” she breathes, lifting a heavy book from the box. The front cover is plain, no lettering or images on it, but she can tell what it is in an instant.

A scrapbook.

She opens it to the first page, wondering what he could have possibly put inside. It's sparse—there aren't that many pictures of them together, after all—but he's scrounged up some that must have been taken at crime scenes, and one she vaguely remembers Frohike taking the first day she met the Gunmen.

But perhaps more telling than the few pages that are filled in are the empty pages at the back, just waiting to be added to. She knows what he means by giving her this, and it causes a lump to form in her throat.

“You look so serious, Dana,” her mother says, glancing over her shoulder at a photo of her and Mulder in their FBI jackets looking over some evidence.

“Well, yeah, I'm at work, Mom,” she laughs, thankful for the distraction to keep her from crying in front of everyone.

“That's just the face she makes when she's about to refute my theory with cold hard science,” Mulder jokes, leaning back proudly on the couch.

She looks at him, blinking away the tears threatening to fall.

“Mulder, this is… I didn't get you enough, your gift is so thoughtful…”

He shakes his head. “Scully, the fact that you even want to spend time with me long enough to play any of the games you got me is enough of a gift,” he says. “Seriously. You've given me a lot more than you think you have, I'm just trying to catch up.”

Charlie makes an exaggerated pouty face at her, which she catches out of the corner of her eye. He's lucky she's being watched by everyone else, otherwise she'd throw a pillow at him.

“Well, thank you,” she says. If they were alone, she'd hug him, but… Well, she's already uncomfortable with the amount of attention she's getting. She doesn't need to make it worse. She hopes he can see how grateful she is in her eyes. For now, she closes the book and sets it aside.

She scoots just that little bit closer to him on the couch while the others continue opening the last few presents, his leg brushing against hers ever so slightly. Thank you, she’s saying. This means the world to me.

-.-.-

“Hey,” Charlie says from behind him, startling Mulder out of a kind of daze.

He tears his eyes away from where Scully is standing on the other side of the room, making polite conversation with some of her mother’s friends after dinner. Charlie is a fair bit shorter than he is, but still taller than his sister, if not by much.

“I took a look through that scrapbook you got Dana,” he continues. “I hope you don’t mind.”

He kind of does, actually, but he supposes he never made it clear one way or another, so he can’t really blame her family for being curious. It’s just… well, personal. He’s not used to sharing her with others, much less letting others see into the hard-to-understand relationship they have. It makes him feel oddly exposed.

He shrugs in response, not exactly sure what else to say.

Charlie doesn’t seem to notice his discomfort. “Living so far away, I just feel like I miss out on the finer details of her life, you know?” he says. “Sometimes I forget she’s really an FBI agent out there waving a gun around and solving crimes.”

“You disapprove?” Mulder asks, ready to defend her.

“Not at all,” Charlie is quick to assure. “I’m glad she has a partner to look out for her, though.”

For all the good that has done, Mulder thinks. Still, it’s nice to hear he’s got one Scully brother on his side, even if it is the one his partner doesn’t get to see that often.

“I saw the picture of that little girl you put in,” the younger man adds, dropping the volume of his voice a few decibels. “Bill tried to explain it to me, once. I don’t think I ever really grasped how much she would look like family.”

Mulder fidgets at the uncomfortable turn in the conversation. It really isn’t his place to talk about it. It’s his sister Charlie should be speaking to. But then, if this prevents Scully from having to face such unpleasant memories during her nice family Christmas, then he’d gladly endure whatever questions her brother might have.

“I don’t think your mother or brother really understood it either,” he says, trying his hardest not to sound accusing. “But in their defense, it really was an unusual situation.”

“Let me guess, Bill completely pretended it wasn’t happening,” Charlie says, casting a glance in his brother’s direction. “Figures. I’m sure he didn’t make it easy on Dana.”

Charlie must have hoarded the entire Scully family’s stockpile of emotional intelligence, that’s the conclusion Mulder is coming to. Finally someone besides him thinks to ask how Scully handled everything.

“What has Scu– What has Dana told you?” he asks, quickly correcting himself. He doesn’t want to be the one to reveal information Scully would rather keep private, so he thinks he ought to check.

“I know she can’t have children, if that’s what you’re getting at,” Charlie says, taking a swig from his bottle of beer. “She never did explain why, but that’s not really what matters, is it?”

“You’re a good brother,” Mulder states.

No, it shouldn’t matter. And that’s exactly what had bothered him about Bill’s reaction so much. Who cares if you understand why or how things are happening? The important detail is that your loved one is suffering and you need to be there for them. It’s a relief to hear that Charlie seems to understand this, even if his brother doesn’t.

“It’s a long story,” he answers with a sigh, “but she loved Emily. Would have raised her if the courts had let her, and if—” He trails off, letting the words hang in the air.

“You were there, weren’t you?”

Mulder nods. “Flew out and crashed your family’s Christmas as soon as I knew what was going on.”

“What was she like?” he asks next.

“Dana?” Mulder asks, brows furrowed.

“No, Emily.”

Oh.

Mulder bites down on his lip, thinking back two years to the few days he spent with Scully and her mini-me.

“She was quiet,” he answers. Honestly, he barely heard her say a word. But her genetics were unmistakable, and not just in her appearance. “She was a lot like Dana.”

Charlie is silent for a moment, probably digesting all that he had learned in the last few minutes. It’s a heavy topic, and one Mulder himself doesn’t really like thinking about, if he can help it. This Christmas has already been leaps and bounds better in every way possible, and he wants to keep it that way.

“Thanks for being there for her,” Charlie says finally. “Thanks for taking care of her. She needs someone like you around.”

Mulder inexplicably feels himself tearing up at his words, and forces the emotion back down before he can give himself away.

“We take care of each other,” he corrects, glancing again to his partner across the room.

His vows from yesterday echo in his ears, and for the first time, he wishes her family had been there to hear them. The marriage may be a legal ploy for practical reasons, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t intend to keep his promises. He meant every word he had spoken, and now part of him wishes her family knew just how much.

-.-.-

Dana had forgotten how draining it could be to be surrounded by friends and family for hours on end. It's hard to believe there was a time when social situations like this invigorated her rather than drained her, but she remembers her university days well.

Still, the company is pleasant, and it affords her the unique opportunity to see Mulder in a different, more relaxed setting, something she'd scarcely known she was missing all these years.

At the moment, he is crouched down in the hallway beside Matthew, each with a wind up toy car in hand that they've been racing back and forth for the last fifteen minutes or so.

For as much as she believed him when he told her he wanted to be a father, it never really felt real until this very moment.

The way he interacts with Matthew is so natural, despite the fact that the boy is the spawn of one Bill Scully, Jr. He talks to him in hushed, conspiratorial tones, grinning when the two-year-old's car reaches the self-proclaimed finish line before his does. It brings to mind Emily, and the way he had tried to make her laugh when he met her. The way he cradled her in his arms when they had to take her to the hospital, burning up with fever.

Her partner, who chases aliens for a living and has been held hostage in Siberia, gently holding a tiny, sick girl in a patterned nightgown… It sometimes still feels like a dream that it had happened at all, though that dream had quickly turned into a nightmare.

Mulder's eyes shine playfully now and she can see his mouth moving animatedly. He points to the other side of the wood-floored hallway and Matthew quickly crawls over there with his toy car, evidently changing up the parameters of the game they're playing.

“One, two, THREE!” Mulder counts aloud, and he and Matthew both wind up and release their cars at the same time, watching with delight as they crash together in the middle.

He will be a good father. A great one, even. She'd known it when she asked him for help with IVF, and she knows it even more now. Not once has she wondered if his difficult childhood would stand in the way of him and parenthood. If anything, it would make him better. She knows he'll do everything he possibly can to be the father he never had.

She only hopes she can provide him that opportunity, one way or another.

“So, Dana,” her mother’s friend Gloria speaks, coming up beside her to watch. “Any plans to settle down? I know your work keeps you busy these days, but you're not getting any younger, dear.” She finishes with a chuckle, taking a sip from her glass of eggnog, oblivious to how out of touch her question had been.

The words aren't meant with any malice, Dana knows, but still she wonders how these older women come to the conclusion that that's an acceptable question to ask. Even if she wasn't struggling with infertility and extraordinary life circumstances, that kind of inquiry always rubbed her the wrong way.

She forces her eyes away from Mulder and her nephew, focusing instead on Gloria.

“Oh, um,” she starts awkwardly, not exactly sure how to answer. “Not right now,” she says, even though it's becoming more of a lie with each passing day. Uncertain plans are just as good as no plans at all, she thinks in order to justify her omission. After all, if things don't pan out, she'll be back to square one.

Or almost square one, she mentally corrects herself. There's still the matter of being secretly married to her FBI partner.

Besides, they're keeping everything under wraps for now. If she's not telling her own mother, she's certainly not about to tell a woman she's only met a handful of times.

“Well, I know this young man at the YMCA– Brendan,” Gloria continues, heedless of Dana's discomfort. “He's a swim instructor. Veeeery handsome.”

Dana smiles politely, but otherwise is careful not to give any indication that she might be interested. An accidental blind date setup due to miscommunication is the last thing she needs right now, and honestly, the last thing she wants. She's happy with how things are with Mulder, even if they're not actually a couple. They're making plans for a future together, that's all that matters. Though the exact specifics of that future are hazy, one thing is certain: She won't be alone. Not anymore.

And neither will he.

Looking around at the house full of people, love a palpable force flowing around them, she wonders again why they didn't do this sooner.

-.-.-

“Thanks, Mrs. Scully. This was really great,” Mulder says, carrying a bag loaded with containers of leftover food and desserts. He waves at the little boy behind Maggie, held up in the arms of his father at the door. “Bye Matt, thanks for hanging out with me.” Matthew is suitably worn out from all the excitement and playtime, which Dana is sure her brother can't begrudge Mulder for, but he still waves a tired goodbye. If anything, Bill should be thanking Mulder. The youngest Scully will be out like a light probably before they even leave the neighborhood.

“Bye, Mom,” Dana says, pressing a kiss to her mother's cheek and giving her one last hug goodbye.

“Bye, sweetheart. I'll talk to you soon.”

“Okay. Merry Christmas!”

With a final glance over her shoulder, she and Mulder walk down the driveway to their car, alone for the first time in almost 24 hours.

“Your nephew is pretty cool, Scully. Did you know he thinks aliens have pet dinosaurs?” he says as they reach the vehicle, simultaneously opening the doors and sliding into their respective seats.

“How on earth did that come up, Mulder?” she asks, casting a doubtful glance to her left as she buckles.

“I didn't bring it up, he did!” he replies defensively, his smile only serving to make him seem less credible. “No, seriously!”

“I'd better not get a call from Bill asking what kind of stories you've been filling his son's head with.”

“Every little boy thinks about aliens and dinosaurs, Scully,” he says, laughing. “He offered up that piece of information unprompted, I swear!”

Scully chuckles, his earnest expression combined with his raised right hand somehow striking her as utterly ridiculous.

Our child will have no shortage of imagination with Mulder for a father, she thinks, and the thought causes her heart to clench in her chest.

“Just drive, Mulder,” she says, facing forward to conceal her smile.

He drives.

~~~

Lovely tag list ♡: [if you would like to be added or removed, let me know!]

@today-in-fic @ao3feed-msr @agent-troi @angegova @baronessblixen @calimanc @captainsolocide @clo-thespin @cutemothman @danasculls @deathsbestgirl @edierone @enigmaticxbee @figureofdismay @frogsmulder @gillian-anderson-in-the-tardis @hippocampouts @invidiosa @monaiargancoconutsoy @numinousmysteries @primrose19 @randomfoggytiger @skelavender @skylarksong @stephy-gold @teenie-xf @the-redhead-in-a-dress @vincentsleftear

#msr #txf #x files #xf fanfic #mulder and scully #my fanfiction #fox mulder #dana scully #of our own making #ooom #msr adoption fic #adoption

61 notes · View notes

callmissrogers · 10 months ago

Text

There For His Girl | Steve Rogers x Reader One Short

Summary: Y/n has reached her limit. Work has been difficult. People have been short, and some just mean. It all brings her back to her childhood, and right now, she just wants to pretend to be ok. So determined to pretend she tries to push her concerned husband away.

WARNINGS ⚠️ This contains mentions of a toxic relationship with the reader's mother and quotes some of their arguments. If this is a trigger for you, please DO NOT proceed. It also contains angst, fluff, and comfort. Also, very little editing and wrote on my phone.

Steve Rogers x wife reader

Word count: 1,370

Notes: The next part in the That's My Girl series will be going up today or tomorrow. I was feeling the need for some comfort myself, so this is what I wrote. Hope you like it!

Y/n slammed the door, tears streaming down her face she pressed her back into the wall and slid down until she was a small ball on the floor.

"Why do I do this?" She sobbed hating herself.

Y/n had had a rough few days. It seemed like no matter what she did or said, people were short with her. Everything was going wrong, and after one mistake, which led to a snarky backhanded compliment from Tony Stark himself, well, Y/n was done. Usually, it didn't get to her like this anymore, but her emotions frayed to a breaking point.

Her dad always told her she wore her heart on her sleeve but she just thought her mom was right and that instead of enduring this made her a nuisance.

Why should she be so bothered when people utter unkind things to her?

Why can't she pull herself together?

"You're always start crying! Stop trying to make me feel bad"

"You're stabbing me in the back by trying to do something different"

"Don't you know I need you here? Stop thinking about yourself and making everything harder on me"

This and many other instances where y/n would be belittled, ridiculed, screamed at, lectured for two hours at 1 in the morning, and reduced to making herself as small and as unseen as possible while being a sobbing mess, had made her what she is today.

Too sensitive. At least that's what she told herself at times like this.

And why couldn't she just talk about it like a normal person instead of blowing something trivial out of proportion?

Literally five minutes ago....

Steve had come home the night before. Poor guy had been so tired that he fell asleep in uniform on the couch.

Y/n had been carefully tiptoeing around the kitchen so as not to accidentally wake him up. Intending to surprise him before heading to work.

She was supposed to be going over mission plans with Vision today. This was the kind of work that excited her. None of the agents would bother them while they were working, which meant that she could just disappear for the day.

She platted up breakfast and carried it over to set it on the coffee table in front of the sleep soilder.

Tho he didn't actually wake up until she set down his mug of coffee.

Eyes fluttering open he peered up at her groggyily. "Hi" He mumbled, pushing himself upright. "Hey sleepy head." Y/n said, trying to make her voice sound chipper.

Steve sighed contentedly as he stretched out his muscles before standing up.

"Mind if I go change clothes before I enjoy this masterpiece?" He asked. Y/n turned to face him, attempting to smooth down his wild bedhead and then said, "Go ahead"

He was back a matter of moments, settling down next to her and drinking deeply from his coffee.

"Thank you for this," He sighed leaning over and gently kissing her on the cheek. Y/n just nodded, trying to keep her mind on a healthy track she focused on eating.

"Did you sleep well?" Steve asked. Taking another bite, she thought about lying and telling him that she had had the best night sleep.

"Sorta" She said trying to stiffle a yawn. "What does sorta mean?" Steve asked turning to look at her. "Nothing really. I'm good! Nothing some strong coffee won't fix."

Steve placed his hands on her shoulders, making her look at him. He studied the dark circles, the faint tint of bloodshot in her eyes, how she held herself and her fiddling hands.

"Hm," He said, his voice low in his chest.

Y/n knew exactly what he was doing, shaking his hands off her shoulders and standing up she said, "I should probably get ready for work."

Steve stood up, grabbing her wrist and stopping her. "Y/n, you look exhausted." "I'm fine" "You're twirling your hair, which means you're not telling the truth." "Steve, c'mon I don't have time for this" "Y/n, it looks like you've been crying" She pulled his hand off her wrist and started to walk away from him, "I'm going to work." "Sweetheart, please just tell me what's - " "Steve! Please just listen to me and leave me alone!" She yelled, cutting him off. She ran off to the bedroom, and that's when the door slammed.

Steve stood there a moment, thinking about honoring her request and leaving her be. But his protective nature overtook him and he decided that the best thing to do would be to be there for his girl.

In the bedroom.

Y/n sat against the wall still crying into her hands, body trembling, thinking hateful thoughts about herself.

She heard Steve knock on the door, saying "Sweetheart, can I come in?"

When she didn't answer him, he slowly opened the door and stepped inside.

She could feel him kneeling down in front of her, "Sweetheart," He whispered, trying to tuck her hair behind her ear to which she only buried her face further.

The next thing that happened, was Steve scooping her up into his arms and settling down in the arm chair that sat in the room.

Somehow this just made her cry more.

"Oh honey, come on now. Take a deep breath. In through the nose and out through the mouth." He soothed.

After about ten minutes of this, her crying settled down, breath becoming rhythmic.

Once he was sure that she had calmed down enough to be able to communicate with him, he asked his voice low and rumbling through his chest, "Do you wanna talk about what's going on in that pretty little head of yours?"

She nodded against his shirt. "Everything" she gasped. "Everything?" He asked, pulling her back so he could look her in the face. Dabbing away the leftover tears.

"I'm too emotional. Everything the last few days just hurts. I let everything get under my skin... I just. . Lately, people and Stark are just mean, or maybe I'm just too sensitive.. and now I've yelled at you, too." She said, trying to get up.

"Now hold on a minute, " He cooed, keeping her in place.

"What did Tony say?" "Nothing. I messed up and he was being sarcastic, but I'm such a mess that it hurt" she said her voice breaking. "Alright. Listen to me. One, you are not too emotional. The world tells everyone to button up and be cynical. You, my dear, are a light in all that mess. You do care and that's a very good thing -- I don't want you to listen to anyone that would belittle that, ok?" He asked getting a slow, uncertain nod in response. "Ok. Secondly, people can be mean, especially Stark. People also have power trips and want to pull people down to make themselves feel stronger or better. This means there's one thing you can always be certain of: Do you know what that is?" "What?" "They're wrong. Anyone who would belittle you to make a point or to win an argument or for any other reason, is just a bully." "But what if-" "ah. No what ifs. Thirdly, and this one is the one that's most important of the three." "Then why'd it come last?" She asked clearly beginning to feel a little bit better if she could tease him now. Steve simply rolled his eyes and continued,

"I want you to remember that when you're upset, you can always talk to me. No matter how silly it might make you feel, your feelings are safe with me." "Steve I just yelled at you for no rea-" "No. You had a reason. You were upset. I can see that and you know what that means? It means I can take it too. When I put this ring on your finger," He said taking her hand in his and running a finger across her knuckles. "I signed up for this. I'd rather have you get emotional than bottle things up and hide them from me."

Y/n looked down at their still intertwined hands and then back up at him. Nodding again and breathed out an "ok"

"Ok." Steve replied, giving her his usual comforting smile and kissing her forehead.

127 notes · View notes

shenglingyuan · 5 months ago

Text

title: in the heart, there grows flowers and thorns (ao3) pairing: togame jo/sakura haruka summary: A strange feeling creeps up Sakura’s chest as he watches the exchange silently. He rubs at the spot above his heart. Why was it suddenly difficult to breathe? “Is everything okay?” Togame asks him, ever so attentive. At times, Sakura is grateful Togame can pick up on his thoughts and feelings without him putting it to words. Today is not one of those times. “Yeah, of course.” *** for day 1 of wind breaker week 2024! established togasaku meeting the family + a bit of gardening + talking about feelings implied sideships: endochika, suonire

Sakura checks his reflection on the blank screen of his phone for the third time, patting down the top of his hair. Bedhead is no issue for him, but something about this day just makes him extra anxious about the way he looks. After all, Togame has invited him out for the weekend, and Sakura isn’t sure what to expect.

Togame didn’t specify the details, only that they should meet under the tracks early in the morning. Sakura even had to wake extra early today so he can pick up the polo Kiryu was lending him.

They were having dinner last night at Pothos, making plans for the weekend, when Sakura informed the group that he couldn’t join because he has a schedule with his boyfriend. Upon asking what clothes he’d be wearing, and Sakura answering, “Just the usual.” Kiryu raised a ruckus in panic.

“You can’t go on a date with your usual get-up, Sakura-chan!”

“It isn’t a date, though?”

A chorus of disapproval met his response.

“It doesn’t have to be called a ‘date’ to be a date.” Kiryu had added with conviction, confusing Sakura even more.

“Why does it matter?” Sakura grumbled, feeling offended that his very convenient and casual fashion was getting slandered. “We’re already together, I don’t have to impress him anymore, right?”

“And that’s the start of your relationship’s downfall.” Suo commented on the side, with Nirei and Tsugeura nodding in agreement.

A cold feeling settled on Sakura. Even though he and Togame were just starting to go out, he didn’t want whatever they have to be gone so soon. “Then…do you…guys have something I can borrow?”

“Don’t worry, I got you.” Kiryu smiled then, relief flooding his face. “I’ll message you my address; drop by tomorrow before you meet with your boyfriend, okay?”

And here he was, wearing his usual plain white shirt, layered with the plainest oversized jacket he could find from Kiryu’s wardrobe, if one can call faded floral prints simple. The colors and patterns of the other choices were just too bold and striking for Sakura’s taste, hence he went with this one. Kiryu seemed to approve anyway, so it shouldn’t look bad.

“It’s Sakura-chan!”

Sakura hears Tomiyama’s voice even before he sees him. When Sakura looks up, he finds the guy waving both his arms wildly in the air at the other end of the tunnel. Togame is closely following behind, smiling as they catch each other’s eyes.

“Sorry I was late, Sakura,” Togame immediately apologizes upon reaching him.

“No, Sakura-chan. It’s totally my fault. We’re halfway here when I realized I forgot my wallet at home!”

“Ah…no worries.” He didn’t expect to see this guy today. The way energy exudes off his small body always bombards Sakura that he thinks he should at least get an hour’s notice before encountering him just to prepare. “You’re…coming with us?”

“Huh? No way.” Tomiyama grins excitedly. “I’m meeting Ume-chan and Ragi-chan today, they’re treating me to Pothos, hehe! Kame-chan just asked to walk together because he said I might get lost again. As if I wasn’t able to go to Furin on my own before? Hmph. Kame-chan can be soooo overbearing.”

“Choji, I think you should go now. You don’t want to be late, don’t you?” Togame pushes at Tomiyama’s back, a wry smile etched on his face. Tomiyama giggles back, seemingly enjoying teasing Togame.

A strange feeling creeps up Sakura’s chest as he watches the exchange silently. He rubs at the spot above his heart. Why was it suddenly difficult to breathe?

“Right, right, enjoy you two!” Without even waiting for a reply, Choji skips away.

Togame looks after him with a touch of concern on his face.

“Pothos is just along this street. He won’t get lost.” Sakura reminds him.

“Just worried he might knock over something on his way, he’s too excited for today.” Togame shakes his head with a smile. He turns to Sakura then, regarding him quietly for a moment.

“W-what is it? Do I have something on my face?”

“Is everything okay?” Togame asks him, ever so attentive. At times, Sakura is grateful Togame can pick up on his thoughts and feelings without him putting it to words. Today is not one of those times.

“Yeah, of course.”

Togame seems to accept his response. He reaches out to ruffle Sakura’s hair, smiling at him warmly. “Let’s go?”

Sakura decides to bury the weird feeling away and takes Togame’s hand.

Throughout their walk, Sakura tried to guess what Togame might have planned for the day, but Togame neither confirms nor denies any of his guess. Togame leads them to the far end of the town until they reach one of the residential areas. The streets here are quiet, lined with bungalow houses, each with colorful gardens decorating the front. Finally, they arrive at one house which yard doesn’t bear the same liveliness as its neighbors. Togame stops right in front of it and opens the gate.

“Welcome to our humble abode.”

“Y-your house?” Sakura feels the heat rising to his face, his mouth struggling to form another word. What?! Isn’t this too quick of a development for two people who just started going out?

“Don’t get any ideas,” Togame smiles coyly at him as he steps inside.

“I’m not thinking about anything.” Sakura hits him lightly on his arm, his cheeks still burning. “Why’d’ya bring me here?”

“Don’t you Furin guys like to help around town? I thought you could help me with household chores today.”

Needless to say, Sakura has zero experience on anything romantic prior to Togame. He did have some ideas about what “dates” are. And yet, doing household chores together isn’t really a date activity in his limited knowledge bank.

“Were you hoping to go somewhere fancy?”

“I wasn’t.” Sakura pursed his lips. It’s not that he was expecting something grand, but if he knew he was going to do physical tasks today, he wouldn’t have bothered suffering under Kiryu’s critical scrutiny of his fashion choices.

“I’ll bring you somewhere nice next time. But for today, I want you to meet somebody important.” Before he takes another step, Togame faces him with a suddenly serious expression. “I’ll introduce you as my boyfriend, is that okay with you?”

“Oh, Jo, who’s this you brought over?”

Sakura turns to the source of the voice and finds an old man relaxing on a tatami on the front porch. His facial features are similar to Togame’s, as if he’s looking at Togame’s older self in sixty more years, only frailer and with more white hair. He even had the braid Togame used to sport before he had it cut.

Before Sakura had the chance to answer Togame’s question, Togame has already shifted his attention to the old man.

“Hey gramps, this is the person I told you who’s helping with the yard today, Sakura Haruka.”

“My, what a unique name,” the old man stands and strides towards them, his movements even slower than Togame. And yet, there’s a comfortable force in the way he clasps Sakura’s hand and squeezes. “It’s nice to meet you, Haruka. I don’t think Jo has told me about you before.”

Sakura could see where Togame takes his penchant for the slow life after.

“Nice meeting you…sir.”

“Just call me Uncle, no need to be so formal. Uncle Jiro. Now, where did Jo pick you up, hm?”

“A new friend.” Togame answers swiftly, laying a hand on Sakura’s shoulder.

“Really? You made a new friend?” Togame’s grandfather laughs heartily. “Here I was thinking you’re stuck forever with that Choji. Where’s he anyway?”

“Busy as always.”

“Ah, that kid. It’s been so long since I last saw him.”

Right. Sakura still hasn’t answered Togame when he asked if he could introduce him as a boyfriend. Something about the direction their conversation took made him uneasy and eager to stake his claim on his role in Togame’s life.

“Actually…,” Sakura cuts in, wrapping a hand around Togame’s wrist as if to make point. “I’m…his boyfriend.”

Both Togame and his grandfather look at him in surprise. Togame’s face quickly lights up, though, his green eyes almost disappearing behind his crinkled gaze.

“You heard him, gramps. Sakura’s my boyfriend. I wanted you to meet him.”

“Now that’s a shock.”

“That I have a boyfriend?”

“I thought you were with that Choji?”

Togame’s smile faltered, his eyes darting in panic between his grandfather’s confused face and Sakura’s flustered one. “Don’t be silly, gramps. That never happened.”

At that moment, Sakura has a realization: this is the most mortifying moment of his life.

“My apologies, Haruka. This old man doesn’t know how to watch his mouth. Now, this grandson,” he lands a chastising hit on Togame’s free arm, “I’d appreciate getting informed ahead of time.”

“Sorry, sorry.”

“Hah, this has been a very awkward first meeting. Jo, you go inside and prepare the snacks and drinks, will you? I’d like to talk properly to Haruka here.”

“You don’t have to —"

“I’d like to insist.” Jiro smiles at him so gently that Sakura doesn’t find the heart in him to further refuse.

“Okay then. Oh, Sakura, should I hang your jacket inside? I can lend you another long sleeve to use for the yard work. That isn’t yours, isn’t it?”

Of course, he'd know. In any case, Sakura doesn’t want to soil Kiryu’s clothes either. He takes the jacket off and gives it to Togame. “Thanks.”

“Come and sit with me for a bit while we wait for Jo.”

Sakura follows Jiro to the front porch hesitantly. After that brief awkward moment, he can’t imagine what kind of questions will this old man bring up. Jiro returns on the tatami, and pats on the spot next to him, motioning for Sakura to sit. Left with no other choice, Sakura yields to the old man.

For a moment, they both gaze at the quiet garden with its scattered patches of green, filled with overgrown, unkempt shrubs and weeds.

“Any experience in gardening, Haruka?” Jiro asks as he hands him the sun hat laying nearby. “Though you really can’t call this yard a garden now.”

“Just a bit. We cleaned someone’s yard some time ago.” Sakura gratefully takes the hat and puts it on. “There’s also a vegetable garden up on our school rooftop we help with.”

“Well, it's just some weeding today. Haven't been able to keep up with it the past few months, what with my back aching more and more. That's old age for you." He looks pensively at the view in front of him. “Look how messy this garden has become.”

“Shouldn’t you be leaving this in Togame’s care, anyway?”

“Well, he used to, you know. Him and Choji. Once or twice a month. Then, something must have happened. Choji stopped coming over, and Jo started carrying himself as if he’s some mafia boss. That’s why I mistakenly thought they had that kind of relationship before.” Jiro shakes his head with an amused laugh. “Young boys these days, really. But I’m glad he seems spirited enough now to pay attention to this yard again. So, Haruka, are you also part of Jo’s gang?”

“No. I’m from a different group. Bofurin.”

“Bofurin? Hanging out with other groups? That’s news to me.”

Bofurin’s name is really known far and wide.

“Yeah, we’re supposed to be friends now with Togame’s group.”

“Supposed to be, huh. I still remember, Bofurin’s reputation isn’t good. When we first moved here, Jo was still a little kid then, the neighbors warned us not to go too far into town because of those rascals always fighting with other gangs.”

“We’re different now,” Sakura finds himself saying, feeling the need to defend Bofurin’s honor. “These days we keep those gangs in check.”

“You’ve duked it out with Jo’s gang, haven’t you?”

“Yeah, they challenged us.”

“And Sakura totally floored me.” Togame finally appears from the house, carrying with him a pitcher of ice-cold water, a plateful of biscuits, and glasses. “He’s real strong, gramps.”

“You lost on purpose.” Sakura glares as he takes the long sleeve Togame brought out with him. “You still owe me a proper rematch.”

“Now, now, fix the yard first before you two go at it. Then you can roll around the grass all you want.”

After a few bites of snacks, Sakura and Togame finally start with the actual task at hand, with Jiro overseeing their progress. Instead of spreading out, they work on the same areas together to finish the process quicker. Prioritizing the weeds overtaking the path, they work their way to the edges of the yard. As a form of entertainment, Jiro tells Sakura of Togame’s exploits as a child, much to Togame’s embarrassment.

By noontime, Jiro calls them inside for lunch. The awkwardness from the earlier misunderstanding has completely vanished, and Sakura is able to even exchange banters with Jiro easily. Sakura realizes he’s not much different than the elderly people that frequent Pothos; in fact, Jiro reminds him of Grandma Sato.

“I’d love to show you Jo’s childhood photos, but I forgot where I put those albums. Do you know, Jo?”

“Even if I knew, I won’t tell you, gramps. You’re just going to embarrass me more.”

“Hmph. I’ll just look for it myself. Then Haruka, I’ll show it to you on your next visit, okay?”

A next visit. Just like that, Sakura finds himself a new place to return to in town. He gives an enthusiastic nod. “Okay, Uncle.”

Orange streaks have started to paint the sky by the time Togame and Sakura finished cleaning all corners of the previously unkept yard.

“Where’s Uncle Jiro?” Sakura asks as he joins Togame on the tatami, crossing his legs, and examining the job they’ve done with the yard. “Sleeping?”

“Nah, he went to his friend a few streets away. They usually play shogi or Othello in the afternoons. He should be back by dinner.” Togame absentmindedly reaches for his hand, weaving their fingers together, rubbing at Sakura’s knuckles with his thumb. “Hey, Sakura.”

“Yeah?”

“Sorry about gramps earlier.”

“About what?”

“When he brought up Choji.”

“It’s nothing. He already talked to me about it, too.”

“You still look jealous, though.”

“That’s—,” Sakura wants to deny it, but the matter of fact is, it’s true. He feels silly, though, feeling jealous over his closest friend. Is it because he never had anyone to call “his” until Togame that his possessiveness is a bit irrational? “That doesn’t matter anymore.”

Togame’s arms snakes around his waist then, pulling him close so that his chest is pressed against Sakura’s back, resting his chin on Sakura’s right shoulder. Sakura can’t help but relax at his touch, his body curving to fill the space in between them seamlessly.

“Of course, it does. I understand if you’re jealous. It’s not entirely baseless. I’ve devoted myself to Choji, to Shishitoren, to the point of ruin. You witnessed a part of it, after all.”

“Yeah, you sure did.” Sakura smiles wryly at the memory of their battles at Ori. They seemed so distant now.

“But at one point, I realized the feelings I held were not for my own,” Togame heaves a sigh. “I regard Choji as the sun – Shishitoren’s sun, that is. I want everyone to bask in his light. I did anything, everything, for everyone to keep seeing that.

“Yet,” his arms tighten around Sakura’s waist, “When I think of sharing you with others the same way, my chest tightens, it’s hard to breathe. It doesn’t feel good at all, Sakura. When it comes to you, I just want to be selfish.

“But I can’t do that. Hiding you away from the world would be a disservice to your person. You’re one of the most selfless people I know. You share your warmth to others as if it’s the breathing, and I can’t deny them of that. Not when it’s the same warmth that saved me.”

Sakura’s breath hitches at Togame’s words. Just a few minutes ago, he’s the one losing his mind over being jealous of someone else. But now, he realizes Togame is harboring the same concerns as him, the same pain, and yet he puts it in such a way that is still able to make Sakura feel so…treasured.

Togame has never lacked in expressing his admiration of him; Sakura didn’t think his feelings can get this strong. They were never overwhelming though, instead, his words always felt like finding the perfect solace in the middle of his own stormy thoughts. His own worries dissipate in a flash. There was never a reason to doubt, after all.

“You were jealous?” Sakura cranes his neck to look at him. “Of whom?”

“Are you really asking me that now?”

“You know I got jealous with Tomiyama. Should be fair enough to tell me a name.”

Togame closes his eyes, as if that hides him from answering. But of course, Sakura won’t let him run away from this. He cups Togame’s chin and pinches the side of his cheeks, forcing his lips into a pucker.

“Thishishabuse.” Togame struggles to say as he opens his eyes.

“One. Name.”

“Fine.” Togame pulls Sakura’s hand away from his chin but keeps on holding on to his wrist. “Where are you learning these tricks?”

“Suo did it to Nirei once. Seemed effective. Well, who is it?”

“…That tattooed bastard.”

“Ha? Why?”

“Because he’s always trying to hang around you, and when you give him the time of the day, he overdoes it with the food and gifts.” Togame finally let go of his arm, shrugging his shoulders as he leans back as if in defeat, “How can I compete with that? I’m just a simple man.”

Sakura looks at him as if he’s crazy. Endo is indeed a bit forward and obsessed with him, but Sakura attributes it to the fact that only he has given Endo a genuinely enjoyable fight, even if it was emotionally harrowing on his side. For this alone, he never really thought of Endo in any special way. Besides, that guy is truly and deeply taken by another person.

“That doesn’t count.”

“Oh, it sure does for that guy, I know those types.”

“No, really, it doesn’t. Every time he comes around Furin, he just mostly talks about Takiishi anyway.”

Togame scratches the back of his ear, his forehead crumpling in confusion. “Who’s that again?”

“…You probably wouldn’t know. Anyway, there was never a competition. Stop worrying about it.”

Togame smiles softly, “And there isn’t a competition with you either. So, you don’t have to feel jealous of anybody, okay?”

Finally, the strange feeling that encroached in Sakura’s mind earlier that day completely vanishes. Sakura leans back, lets out a huge sigh of relief that seems to have been stuck in his chest for the longest time, and rests his head on Togame’s shoulder. Both their eyes are directed at the view ahead of them: a newly revived yard, free from creeping vines and overgrowths. From here on out, it could only be more vibrant and splendid, and they’ll both work on it together.

But that’s a job for next time.

#togasaku #winbreweek2024 #wind breaker #this is now part of a togasaku canon timeline series of fics ;;#i write sometimes

33 notes · View notes