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fatherbrat · 2 months ago

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ONE LAST TIME, R. SUNA

sum. two months into your relationship with your current boyfriend, your ex-fwb finally sends you a voicenote to let you know exactly how he feels about it.

feat. rintaro suna

cw. ex-fwb!suna, cheating, mutual masturbation (kinda lol), jealousy, dirty talk, anal mention, pillow humping, possessiveness, degradation

wc. 1.2k

When you posted your first official pictures of you and your new boyfriend, you had expected Suna to react…negatively. You basically braced for impact the moment you hit post, but all you got from him was an Instagram notification and two texts.

sunarin liked your post.

rin ;)

lmk if you want me to delete our pics. and hmu when you two break up :p

You never bothered replying, initially not sure how to reply, and then forgetting about the texts entirely. The two of you barely have any contact for a few weeks after that, but he's obviously keeping up with your socials; liking every post and viewing every story. It doesn't bother you, but it's weird going cold turkey on your relationship like that. You had expected him to reach out for some sort of closure. You wanted him to.

Halloween swings by in no time, and (much to you boyfriend’s dismay) you dress up as a sexy nurse. You don’t remember much of the night, but you do know that you posted a picture of you and your friends all dressed up on your story before getting blackout drunk.

Your phone dies early on in the night. Your friends take good care of you up until it’s time to bring you back home, and you don’t wake up until the afternoon. You don’t check your phone until a couple hours after that—long after it's been turned on and charged to 100%.

When you finally check it, two particular notifications catch your attention.

sunarin liked your story.

rin ;)

Voice Message

The voice message is 12 minutes long.

You exit your texts immediately, opting to distract yourself by tending to your other notifications. It doesn’t help much. Your mind races, wondering what he was talking about for so long and if it was really so important that he reached out after almost four months of near-silence.

You toss your phone onto your bed, shaking your head. You try to ignore it, cleaning the bathroom and folding the laundry and vacuuming the living room all in an effort to forget about the lengthy recording sitting in your phone.

But it doesn’t take long for the curiosity gnawing at you to win.

You practically run back to your bedroom, grabbing your phone and sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed. Your fingers move quickly across the screen, hitting play without hesitation.

The first 8 seconds are nearly silent, and you start to wonder if it’s possible that he sent such a long message by mistake.

But then you hear a heavy sigh.

“I like your costume.” His tone is hushed, like he’s telling you a secret. “You look hot.”

There’s another moment of silence, like he’s giving you a chance to change your mind and stop listening.

But then Suna moans and your eyes nearly bulge out of your head.

“You never answered my text, y’know. When I asked if you wanted me to delete our pictures. So, uh, I kept ‘em.”

Oh.

Oh fuck.

“I’m looking at one right now. It’s from last Halloween. When you-“ His breath hitches. “When you went as a Playboy Bunny.”

You remember. Suna dressed as Hugh Hefner and the two of you went to a party together. Then he took you back to his apartment and fucked you while you were still wearing the bunny ears and bowtie.

You’re pretty positive you’re not wearing the bodysuit in the picture he’s looking at.

“I don’t know how much of this night you actually remember, but I can describe the picture for you.”

You tense, anticipation sending goosebumps up your arms.

“You’re kneeling on the ground, looking up at the camera, and you’ve still got those bunny ears on your head.”

This voice message is going in the last direction you thought it would. Is he—?

“You’ve got cum all over your face, baby.” He laughs to himself before continuing. “And you’re sticking your tongue out like a fucking whore.”

Suna takes a ragged breath, a sound you're all too familiar with. It confirms your suspicions—he’s definitely jerking off.

“That was a good night. We had a lot of good nights.” He sounds miffed all of a sudden. “I seriously doubt the boyfriend is fucking you as good as I did.”

You suppress a shiver. A pang of guilt heats your chest at the mention of your boyfriend. You should stop listening. Delete the message. Tell him to delete the pictures and then probably block him.

Or you could let the message keep playing.

Suna inhales sharply, followed by a shaky moan. You swear you can hear the sound of his fist stroking his dick.

“I hope you’re not letting him put it in your ass like you let me. That’s our thing, okay?”

Under different circumstances you would have laughed.

“Fuck,” he hisses. “And I hope you’re not letting him spit in your fucking mouth. Or–shit–doing that thing where you’d suck me off with your head hanging upside down off the bed.” He falters at the end of the sentence, groaning into the phone.

“I’m not gonna–” he interrupts himself, sighing deeply. “I’m not gonna pretend I’ve been happy for you. I miss you.”

You feel hot all over, a heady combination of annoyance and arousal and embarrassment. There’s a dull throbbing between your legs and in the back of your mind you wonder if this is what Suna wanted when he sent the message.

“Just–just let me fuck you one more time. Okay princess? I’ll make it sooo good for you,” he whines. You can hear his hand picking up speed.

“It’s still early. Two months is nothing, it won’t even count as cheating.” You can hear the smirk in his voice. “God, just one last time. Please?”

Without thinking, you grab a pillow and position yourself over it in a straddle. You won’t let him fuck you, but that doesn’t mean he can’t make you come one last time.

“I promise I’ll do that thing you like with my tongue. And you can pick all the positions if you want to.” There’s a tremble in his voice. “Or just lay there. I’ll do all the work.”

You grind into the pillow beneath you, picturing the expression you know he’d be wearing if he were in front of you–batting those dark eyelashes with raised eyebrows, just barely able to control the smug curve of his lips.

Heat pools in your gut and a whimper falls from your lips. Suna keeps talking.

“I know you miss me. You have to. You’re probably touching yourself to this right now.”

You gasp softly and rock your hips faster.

“Such a fucking slut.” You hear the telltale quiver in his voice that tells you he’s getting close. “My fucking slut.”

You moan, his words giving you flashbacks.

“Oh fuck. Fuck, I’m coming,” he rasps, before letting off a series of moans and whimpers that almost make you concede. You grind harder into the pillow beneath you, imagining Suna in his room, chest heaving, talking into the phone and making himself come to pictures of you.

That does it. A tsunami of pleasure washes over you, forcing your body to tense before you go limp, collapsing onto your bed with a shudder.

You and Suna breathe in tandem, both of you catching your breath.

You hear another laugh through the phone. “Damn, that was a lot.” There’s the sound of sheets rustling. “Kinda made a mess, princess.”

He’s silent for another few beats before clearing his throat. “Text me, okay?” he says quietly. “Please.”

The voice message ends.

part two

#suna smut #suna x reader #suna rintaro x reader #suna rintarou smut #haikyuu smut #hq smut #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #fatherbrat ♱ library #sunarin #hq #tw cheating

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luveline · 19 days ago

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Just re-watched the prison Reid arc and whew! Can I request post prison Reid getting to meet his new baby for the first time with a civilian reader? Like he was arrested while reader was still pregnant and she gave birth right before he got out? Maybe have a Diana cameo cause I just love her🤭

ty for requesting! fem, 1.6k

“Do you want me to take him?”

You give Diane a grateful smile. “Is that okay?”

Diane is reedy like Spencer, tall and skinny, but strong, too. She treads the carpet in her moccasins and holds out her arms for the baby, shushing him softly as you pass him over. You’ve had to look after her these last few weeks in a way you weren’t prepared for, but she’s looked after you in turn.

She’s almost completely lucid today. The good news has its hooks in her.

You look out of the window again. The baby coughs in Diane’s arms, a clearing sound after feeding. If she’s gentle with him he’ll fall asleep before Spencer gets home. You aren’t sure what to do, let him sleep or wake him. What would Spencer want?

I want to come home, he’d said, choked up over the phone, so badly. I’m so sorry.

“Are you sure you won’t call him Walter?” Diane asks. “Spencer likes that one.”

“I’m sure, Diane. He liked Jasper, so…” You bite the tip of your tongue until it aches, refusing to cry again. “So I went with Jasper. I hope he doesn’t mind.”

That morning when Emily told you he was coming home, you cried like you’ve never, ever cried. So hard that Jasper woke up in his cot across the room and cried with you.

You’d cried a lot after Spencer was arrested, and worse when he was imprisoned. You cried like a baby the day you went into labour because you knew you’d have to do it alone, when Spencer promised he’d be there with you, that you wouldn’t have to do any of the scary parts alone.

It didn’t take long to stop. You’d grabbed Jasper with your cheeks soaked in tears and rubbed his back, that small stretch of warmth under your hand like a lifeline. In a way, Jasper being Spencer’s has made this easier. You’ve had a part of him. It just wasn’t enough to get over missing him. Every bit of joy —you have a baby now, your beautiful boy— has been swiftly followed with an aching sort of grief. Spencer missed his first cry, first bath, the very first time he opened his eyes. You can’t go back.

“They said three.”

Diane doesn’t seem concerned. She’s missed Spencer as much as you have, and you know her worry for him has made her more poorly than she’d otherwise be most days, but the baby helps. “I’m gonna find his bear,” she says.

You bend down, trying to see the corner of the street through the window. Then you remember the last time you left Diane alone in the kitchen and flinch. “Hey, Diane?” you call.

She’s checking the drawers for the bear. You’re not sure why she thinks the bear would be there, but perhaps that’s where she put it. “Can I make you a cup of tea or something?” you ask her.

“You’re spying on me.”

“Spying implies you don’t know what I’m doing.”

She pats the baby’s back. “I can see why you and Spencer get along.”

It’s a little more than getting along.

Diane finds Jasper’s bear atop the bread bin, sitting at the kitchen table with him, the bear sat across from him, though Jasper’s already sleeping again.

You put the stovetop kettle on to boil and realise with a start that you can make Spencer a cup of tea at the same time. Your smile is unfailing, then. He really is coming home. The kettle begins whining while you recover his favourite mug from the cabinet, untouched the entire time he was gone.

“How many sugars today, Diane?” you ask.

“Was that the door?”

“What?” You’re putting the mug down before you can compute.

“Angel?”

You feel a rush of emotion all over at the sound of his voice. You try to call back to him, but you don’t manage anything more than a catching gasp as you push out of the kitchen and find him at the door. Right there at the end of the hall.

Pale, tall. Arms already opening, half a step as you run at him. He doesn’t complain when your chest knocks against his. He doesn’t say anything at all.

“Hi,” you breathe, pressing your nose to his shoulder. Your eyes stay open —it’s like panic without the fear. He’s really here in your arms.

He squeezes you tightly. So tight you can’t breathe for a second. Then he gentles, his hands rubbing up and down your back out of sync, face falling into yours.

In the kitchen, Jasper makes a croaky crying sound, a stirring Diane calms immediately.

You attempt to pull away. Spencer will want to see Jasper, of course. He hadn’t met his own son. It was all he could talk about for weeks before he went away, and yet—

Spencer just rubs your back. After another half a minute like that, he asks, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” You clear your throat.

“Yeah? No one would tell me anything specific, I was worried you might not be alright.”

“Everything went fine.” He holds you to his chest. He smells like cheap soap. “I didn’t– it was really okay. He was easy, like he knew I couldn’t handle any complications.”

“And he–?”

You recognise the undercurrent in his voice. It’s the same thing you felt when they put Jasper on your chest for the first time. “He’s perfect.”

“All ten fingers?”

You pull away. Immediately, Spencer’s taking your face into two hands, his eyes pouring into yours with an intensity that worries you. “He has all his fingers and toes,” you say quietly, “how about you? How’s your leg?”

He doesn’t seem to be able to answer. Jasper makes another noise and Diane’s chair creaks. You turn with Spencer’s hand on your side, watching as Diane brings Jasper to the door.

“Spencer,” Diane says, like she just saw him yesterday, “you’re late.”

“Sorry, mom.”

He always sounds younger when he talks to her.

“Will you take the baby? I was just making some tea,” she says.

Spencer nods but doesn’t move.

“I’ll take him.” You kiss Spencer on the cheek. Remember you haven’t for weeks and kiss him again. “It’s okay.”

You hold your arms out and take Jasper against your chest. Spencer takes a hesitant step forward, stops, hesitating, but when you turn to him with a comforting smile the band holding him back snaps. He crosses the room, breath pulled like he’d stopped as he cranes his head to see his baby.

“Three weeks old today,” you say softly, tipping Jasper back so Spencer can see his face. “He missed his daddy, you know.”

“You can’t know that.”

“Of course I can. I’m his mom, Spencer… And who wouldn’t miss you?”

Spencer shakes his head gently, reaching out to caress Jasper’s full cheek.

“Jasper,” Spencer says.

“He’s been a great baby so far. Doesn’t give me much trouble. He cries all night, of course… but all babies do. He goes down after a while. I’ve–” You swallow the heat of missing Spencer like a barb dragging against the inside of your throat. “Told him you’re coming home. I told him every day, I promise.”

“M’sorry,” he says, pained.

“I know, Spence.” You nudge him. “Time to hold him, honey.”

He’s more eager than you thought. It’s almost like he’s worried you won’t let him have the baby, but it’s like you told him on the phone: Spencer made a stupid mistake, and you still love him. He never should’ve been going back and forth like that, but you get why he did. Wouldn’t you want Jasper, one day, to care about you in the same way Spencer loves his mother? You forgave him the moment he apologised.

“It’s alright,” you say, slotting Jasper from your arms to his, guiding his hand behind Jasper’s delicate neck. “Just hold him. He missed you.”

Spencer sniffles. “I missed him too,” he says.

“I know.”

Diane realises eventually that Spencer being home is a big deal. It’s not her fault, not understanding, but the new baby, her relocation again, her nurse barely gone, and Spencer’s sudden homecoming, it’s probably too much to deal with. She finds you, Spencer, and Jasper on the couch in the living room and frowns at him heartily. “You won’t hug your own mother?” she asks.

“You’ll have to hug me around the baby,” he says, sorry.

Diane agrees to this without fuss. She caresses his cheek as he’d done for Jasper as she pulls away.

“Thank you for helping out, mom,” he says.

“It was all Y/N, Spencer. You know mothers. We’re strong.”

Spencer looks at Jasper, still sleeping, and then to you, a shade of adoring in his eyes you’ve never seen before. “I know,” he says.

You curl into his side and take a breath. For the first time in weeks, you let your body relax, finding it sorer and angrier than you’d left it the last time you had the chance to check in.

Spencer brings the side of your face to his lips to kiss your weary cheek.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

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malusokay · 1 year ago

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becoming a better student ₊˚⊹♡

Prepare for your classes ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Wake up on time. We don't want to be stressed first thing in the morning, right?

Eat breakfast. So you will be able to better focus in class.

Assigned reading and homework. Make sure you are prepared for your classes!! :)

Review your notes. Going through some of your flashcards before class is really helpful.

Check your bag and charge your devices. Ensure you have everything you need: Books, homework, chargers, pens, water...

In Class ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Listen and pay attention. You can save yourself a lot of trouble by simply paying attention, trust me.

Take notes. My favourite note-taking method is the Cornell method; I can make a separate post on that!! <3

"Quick notes." If you struggle with note-taking, try taking quick and messy notes. You can clean them up once you get home!!

Engage. If you have any questions or don't understand something, make sure to ask!! Most teachers really appreciate students who speak up. :)

No distractions. Turn off your phone, no chatting, you'll be glad...

After class ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Finish your assignments as soon as you can. Go home, put on a cosy outfit, have a snack, and get working!! <3

Prepare flash cards. A great way of reviewing your notes, too... :)

Update your Study schedule. Write down any assignment and due dates, reading you must do, upcoming tests, etc...

Clean up your notes. Review them, highlight the important parts, and maybe even make them look cute!! :)

Don't avoid topics/Subjects you dislike. I know it is tempting, but you can't avoid them forever, so you might as well get them done

Structure and routine ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Goals and Priorities. Keep them realistic and manageable.

Time management. Having a set schedule makes studying less overwhelming; it takes some discipline but is so worth it!! <3

Develop a routine. Figure out what works best for you; I prefer studying in the morning or at night.

No "zero days". Even if you can only do a bit, do it!! NO. ZERO. DAYS.

Remember your goals. Dreams will keep you motivated; remind yourself of what you're working for!! <3

Self-care and balance ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Don't forget about your hobbies. You need to do things that make you happy, so make time for those things!!

Maintain a balanced diet. I know chocolates and junk are tempting, especially when you are busy studying all day, but you're not doing yourself any favours.

Sleep. Sleep. Sleep. 8 Hours. Non-negotiable.

Exercise regularly. Even if it's just a walk, put on some headphones, listen to music, and give yourself a break. <3

Care for your social life. Reach out to your friends, make plans, and keep in touch; a good work-life balance is critical!!

Romanticising ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Study dates. Meet up with your friends at a cosy cafe, discuss your work, and have some fun!! Studying doesn't have to be all serious all the time ;)

Silly Pinterest boards. Visualising your goals will help you find motivation!!

Music to set the mood. I have a bunch of playlists on my Spotify that might help!! <3

Cosy sweater and candles. The cosy Rory Gilmore vibes haha...

Getting a coffee before class. A little treat before things get serious... Simple pleasures, you know? :)

Babes, The hiatus is OVER, and I'm finally back!! I got a lot of asks on studying, burnout, and school in general, so I thought, why not start off with a little student guide?? I Hope October has been kind to you, and school hasn't been too overwhelming (though I know it, unfortunately, has been for many of you), and I'm glad to finally be back!! <33

As always, Please feel free to add your own suggestions and tips in the comments!!

✩‧₊*:・love ya ･:*��‧✩

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bangaveragewhitewine · 5 days ago

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⋆⁺₊❅ meet the parents

single dad Eddie Munson x single mom Reader

Word Count: 4.7k

Summary: For my fourth and final fic of @littlexdeaths The Twelve Days of Promptmas, I bring you a romcom-worthy meet cute! A one-night stand in a small town is always a dangerous game.

Content: Eddie and Reader are both single parents. Modern AU. P in V and oral sex. Too many feelings for a one-night stand. Reader’s shitty ex mention. Small town dynamics. Light on Christmas, heavy on Eddie being a sexy menace. If you see any typos/messy sentences lmk!!

Just an extra little note to say the biggest THANK YOU to @littlexdeaths for putting together these wonderful Promptmas ideas, and for just being completely lovely and amazing too. I have had such a fun few weeks working on writing again, it’s been a crazy few months for me personally so this has been the best way to get back into writing and feeling creative again!! I’ve loved every minute ❤️

✨bang average festive fics✨ Eddie Munson fics ✨Dividers by @strangergraphics✨

It has been quite a few years since you woke up in a stranger’s bed.

More used to the morning time routine of trying to get a sleepy six-year-old up and ready for the day, or the heartwarming feeling of said six-year-old making her way into your bed to cuddle on sleepy Sundays, you feel a little out of your depth this morning.

And some degree of hungover.

But it could be worse, you supposed. The stranger’s bed was comfy and he had plenty of pillows for you to sleep on. His sheets were clean and he had not totally smothered you like a limpet all night, nor had he expected you to get up and leave while you were still catching your breath. He was a fairer bedmate than your daughter, and it was pleasant to wake up with the warm weight of his inked arm around you rather than a kid’s-size-twelve foot digging into your ribs, or her hair in your mouth.

You sink into the comfort of it all, relishing that long-forgotten post-great-sex ache all over and the feeling of waking after a deep and dreamless sleep. You had not been this well-rested in almost seven years.

Next to you, he is asleep on his stomach with his arm across your middle. The room is dusky dark, but you can still make out the tattoos along his pale bare body and the glint of his nose ring, the spill of long dark hair piled up on his head. He is much softer now than when you met in the bar last night, no coy smirk or wolfish grin, no deep dimples on his cheeks. His whiskey eyes are still shut, and you feel warm all over when you remember how he had looked at you like you were the only woman in the bar, in the world, last night. How he had taken you home and taken you apart right here in his navy sheets.

Carefully, trying not to wake the man next to you, you ease yourself up to check your phone. It’s far too early to worry about picking Hazel up yet.

Not for the first time, you say a silent thanks to the universe for your neighbour for agreeing to babysit Hazel so that you could have a well-deserved Christmas night out with the friends you had made at work. You will bring her a nice hand-tied bouquet from the shop next week, just because. Without Claudia and her kindness to lean on, you know that going it alone in this small new town would so be much harder. It had been serendipitous really, moving in next door to an older and wiser woman who had been in the very same position as you when her son was not much older than Hazel. You begin piecing together the perfect bouquet for her, eucalyptus and rose and red ribbon, distracting yourself briefly from the dull ache in your head and the dry feeling on your tongue.

He brought you a glass of water before you fell asleep together. It’s cool in your throat, though it barely touches the sides of the discomfort pressing behind your brows. When the glass is mostly empty, you settle back next to him and let yourself doze for a little longer.

Eddie instinctively pulls you closer in his sleep, his warm morning breath tickling your shoulder and neck. You know it is just temporary, he is still a stranger, but let yourself enjoy the fleeting comfort while it lasts.

“Morning.”

His voice is rough and smoky, and there’s a tired smile waiting for you when you open your eyes a while later. You are struck by how pretty he is, handsome and hot but pretty with it; long dark lashes and doe-eyes, cheekbones to die for.

“Hi,” you whisper back. You feel yourself smiling back at him, feeling dreamy and oh-so-comfortable. You stretch your body out, relishing the rush of blood and oxygen to your muscles and your eyes drop closed again at that so-good feeling.

“Sleeping Beauty.”

When Eddie kisses your hair, you miss how he closes his eyes and savours the moment; you are too busy basking in the unexpected tenderness of this one-night stand, the easiness of waking up slow with a man you met less than twelve hours ago. Even if it is just for this morning, you soak it up.

“Mhmm. You have a comfy bed,” you whisper, looking up at him again.

You brush your fingertips along his silver chain before tracing up to his jaw, past the tendrils of hair escaping his scrunchie. You know the feeling of that dark grown-out and nicely-maintained stubble, how it brushed and burned so good on the inside of your thighs, how it feels against your lips.

Tentatively, bravely, you press your mouth against his and feel his smile. It’s sweet, slow. Intimate and lovely.

“Yeah? M’glad you think so,” he murmurs and steals one more kiss before pulling you against his body.

Last night as you basked in the afterglow, Eddie asked so quietly if he could hold you and you almost teared up about it. It had been a long time since anyone had held you like that, like he is holding you again this morning. It has been a long time since anyone has been sweet to you, shared closeness and intimacy like this. Not since the man you loved upped and left, leaving you and one-year-old Hazel with only each other to love.

You feel the strength of his arms and the softness of his belly. There’s a stirring, hardening interest against your thigh and yet he’s not being too forward or pushy. He’s just holding you, just ‘coz.

“I don’t… S’a while since I had a sleepover,” he admits, running his blunt nails over the small of your back. “You didn’t hog the covers, and you didn’t sneak off without saying bye…”

Eddie pulls back a little, wearing that small flirty smile that made you swoon last night. His voice is so playful, even though it is deep with morning huskiness.

“Still here,” you whisper back, “I… It’s been a while for me too. I don’t usually… Yeah.” You shrug, you know he gets it.

There is a glint of something in his eyes before he looks up at the ceiling. “I’m glad we did. I had fun.”

The dimple in his cheek is beautiful and bashful, and when he looks at you again his eyes go right to your lips.

“Me too.” You touch his chain again and tug gently to bring your lips together again, putting you both out of your misery.

No one has ever kissed you like Eddie did last night, with all-consuming lust that made you feel electric. He is a blend of rough and smooth, a firm guiding hand followed by a gentle caress. You have never felt so wanted, so craved.

The way he kisses you this morning pushes aside the thoughts of all you need to do today. All you know is want, the cloying feeling of wanting to touch and be touched, craving pleasure. With his hands to guide, you straddle his lap and lean into the feeling of his fingertips wandering past the hem of the t-shirt he loaned you last night.

Eddie looks up at you like you’re some sort of deity, his eyes and lips shining as you peel off the t-shirt and throw it behind you, leaving yourself bare in his lap. He was not put off by the stretch marks, or the Mom Body you felt so self-conscious about sometimes. Nor was he put off by the fact that you are a Mom. Eddie had simply smiled when you briefly mentioned your daughter, told you he had his own little girl without giving too much away. With that fresh layer of yourselves on show, you could understand each other just a little bit more without going full gushing-parent mode, sharing pictures of your little angels or ranting about who loved Bluey and loathed Peppa more.

His fingers run over the stretch marks on your hips, starting up a slow grind as he kisses your neck (remembering your ‘no marks’ rule). There is a slight chill in the air to remind you that beyond this liminal bliss, it is a frosty December morning, but Eddie warms you up and distracts you without second thought.

In the gauzy light, you see touches of fatherhood around his room, easily missed in the passion of last night - a framed drawing on his bedside table, a kiddie hair clip in his ring dish. You smile to yourself and shiver when his warm breath skates over the damp trail of kisses.

“Pretty smile,” he murmurs, needing to taste and feel it again.

Hands wander and squeeze and you get drunk on each other all over again in the cocoon of Eddie’s bed. You blindly follow his dark treasure trail before taking him in hand, hot and diamond-hard, and savour the taste and sound of his moan. Your aching need for him is tempered and satiated by his fingers and you flush hot all over when he encourages you to scoot up and let him taste you, almost begging for it. Dazed with want, you find yourself clinging to the headboard with white knuckles and his name spilling from your lips.

Eddie could die a happy man with your thighs bracketing his head. The taste of you makes him feel drunk as you take your pleasure from him; the needy roll of your hips is encouraged by his greedy hands in contrast to how cautious and careful you had been not to trap and tug his hair beneath your knees.

When you are sufficiently dumb with pleasure, he lays you back against the pillows and lays out his desire for you in between messy kisses, losing his train of thought when you get your hand back on him and whisper back your need for him to fuck you now. Eddie reaches blindly for the (blessedly still-in-date) box of foil-wrapped packets in his drawer, not wanting to look away from you for even a moment.

He holds your hand as he makes love to you and you have to remind yourself not to get too caught up in how sweet Eddie is, even when he his making you feel like you have never been so full; sweetness and filthy words wound together so sweetly. It’s overwhelming and he catches you fighting tears when you feel too good.

“Hey,” he whispers, wearing too much worry between his brows. “Do you want to stop, sweetheart? Am I hurting you?”

A guy being decent should not make your heart swell like this, and yet it does. You shake your head, tears spill over and he brushes them away with care.

“No, no. You’re not hurting me,” you promise. “I feel really good. S’just a lot.”

Your voice wobbles and he smiles fondly against your mouth, relieved and happy to be wanted in return.

Eddie has this magnetism, warm and cloying and a little mysterious; it makes you feel comfortable even when he’s teasing you and making you flush hot all over.

“Yeah, baby? That’s what I’m here for,” he whispers, and kisses you slowly, sweetly. “Let me make you feel good.” You feel like your heart could beat out of your chest. He can feel it hammering against him as he starts up a slow roll of his hips that fills you completely.

Your fingers clutch at the sheets as Eddie fucks you into his mattress. Nothing else matters in those moments, only pleasure. You fight the urge to sink your teeth into the meat and muscle of his arm, lick the drip of sweat from his neck. Instead, you taste the way he moans your name and cling to him when you come just moments apart - you first, then him.

He shares his water with you afterwards when he sees your empty glass; you are both damp with sweat and lying side by side with your heartbeats pounding in your ears, the lingering taste of each other on your tongues.

When he kisses you again, his lips are water-cooled and tender.

“Can I make you some coffee? I have to pick up my little terror in a bit…” he says, already cringing at himself. “She’s great, I swear. I promised her diner pancakes for brunch.”

Reality trickles back in, a not-unpleasant cooling off of your morning together.

“Yeah, I should probably not show up in last night’s clothes to pick my kid up. Coffee sounds good.”

There was always an expiry date on this; the boundaries of a one-night stand were set and familiar, despite how long it has been and despite how easy and intimate this morning has been. You’re both adults, both okay with it.

“Cool.” He smiles and hauls himself out of bed, stepping into his lost and found again boxers before he doubles back to kiss your cheek.

When your legs are steady enough he shows you how the shower works, leaving you to it with a new toothbrush, fresh towels and a familiar squeeze to your bare hip. There’s a little part of you that wants him to join you, waste hot water and let him press you against the cold tiles. Eddie wants that too, to delay your inevitable parting of ways and return to reality.

When you look in the mirror, you see a well-fucked woman; kiss-bitten lips and that long-lost post-sex glow.

“What the fuck,” you murmur to yourself, giggling a little when you think over the last twelve hours.

You had not gone out looking for a hookup last night, but you made the most of the festive excuse to go for drinks with the few friends you had made since moving to Hawkins six months ago. Catching Eddie’s eye at the bar had been a happy accident. A happy accident that lead to letting him buy you a drink, and then buying him one back. Your friends had wholeheartedly encouraged it, knew him to see around town and vouched for him as a mechanic. Good with his hands, they had teased. Oh, how right they had been.

The water is hot and Eddie’s shower gel is the typical ‘for men’ scented sort of thing. You feel fresh and clean when you step back into the bedroom, finding sweats and an Iron Maiden hoodie on the bed for you, alongside your clothes from last night (which Eddie has attempted to fold neatly, instead of leaving you to pick them up from the floor).

It should not make you smile so much, but your cheeks ache pleasantly as you dress yourself, opting for last night’s jeans with Eddie’s sweater. It’s washed-soft and smells like the detergent you have at home with a hint of his cologne.

You follow the scent of coffee and the sound of music downstairs, finding more traces of parenthood on your way - a purple fairy door on the baseboard, a washing basket full of clean kids' clothes outside a closed bedroom door, light-up Skechers and silver glitter rain boots in the hall. There is something familiar about them, but brush it aside as something Hazel probably asked for in Target.

Eddie’s unbuttoned jeans hang low on his hips as he makes coffee in mismatched mugs, his hair is down tickling against his bare shoulders and back. There are drawings on the fridge and a Christmas tree peeking out from the living room. It feels like a happy home.

His eyes light up when he sees you, looking as hungry and enamoured by you in his hoodie as he had been when you were wearing nothing at all.

“Do you take sugar, or are you sweet enough?” he asks, wearing a softer version of that panty-dropper smile from last night. He smells clean, minty and masculine, after a quick whore’s bath in the other bathroom.

“Just one,” you say, resting your hip against the kitchen island while you watch him fix up your coffee. “You’re smooth, huh?”

“You tell me.” He slides the mug across to you before blowing on his coffee, taking a still-too-hot sip that he tries and fails to cover. For a moment, you think he might be doing a bit, alas he is simply endearingly clumsy.

You feel bad laughing, but Eddie only pouts a little bit before grinning at you. There’s a faint blush on his cheeks and he ducks his head to hide behind his hair.

“Real smooth.”

Exercising patience, you decide to let your coffee cool a little.

“I’ll give you a ride home if you like?” he says, hoping it’s not too forward.

He wants to be more forward, ask for your number and ask you out. He likes how his clothes fit your body, and how you looked blissed-out in his bed. While Eddie’s trying not to come off too strong, you appreciate his sweetness and fight your own internal battle of trying not to fall for your one-night stand.

“Yeah, that would be great. Thanks, Eddie. I’m over on Cornwallis, is that out of your way?”

He smiles a little, “I don’t mind a little detour, sweetheart.”

You pointedly blow on your coffee, learning from his mistake, and savour the made-just-right coffee in a Snoopy & Woodstock mug.

Over his shoulder, you spot a photo of a familiar man on the fridge, bookended by two heads of dark curly hair. There’s a handpainted fridge magnet with ‘Fae’ written in childishly charming pink writing, and you feel your cheeks flame.

He watches your face change, looks over his shoulder to see what you’re looking at.

“Ah. That’s my Uncle Wayne, and Fae. My daughter. she’s six.” He unpins the picture and thumbs over it gently before turning it around to you.

You know exactly who they are, but take it anyway.

When you moved your life to Hawkins, Indiana six months ago, you would never have believed that you would make friends with a grandfather in his sixties outside of Curtain Call Dance Studio while you waited for Hazel. Making friends as a single Mom in a new town was not easy, you had little time outside of work and parenting for yourself, let alone socialising (and god forbid, dating). And then you parked next to Wayne one Thursday. He was a little quiet but had warmed up more each week; now he smiled when he saw you, asked how your job at the florists was and how Hazel was doing in school.

Even though they were in different First Grade class groups at Hawkins Elementary, Hazel and Fae had become almost inseparable in their dance classes and on the playground.

You knew Fae’s dad worked late some evenings, so Wayne helped him out. Hazel had told you that she had seen Fae’s dad once when he picked her up early to go to the dentist, and that he had hair just like her friend.

“She looks just like me, it’s crazy - poor kid. I can’t believe she’s six. She’s supposed to be three, max. Y’know what I mean?” He says, showing you more of his proud Dad side before realising that your confusion is not because you’re looking at a picture of two clones. “You okay?”

“You’re Fae’s Dad? Fae Munson?” you ask, watching his shoulders tense a little as he nods. “Eddie. Our kids know each other. I’ve met Wayne.”

He scowls slightly beneath his bangs, confused and a little worried that he hooked up with the mother of one of the kids who was mean to Fae in school, who told the teacher when she was ‘too chatty’ or when she stood up for herself.

The words spill from you untempered, unrestrained to clear it all up. “They’re at dance class together. They’re in the same grade. Hazel and Fae are friends, Eddie…”

He visibly softens, drops his shoulders, and even though he still looks confused he melts even more when an involuntary nervous laugh bubbles from your chest.

“Seriously? No… You’re Hazel’s mom?” His eyes blow wide. “Fuck.”

Eddie puts his head on the counter with a thunk, and you’re left with the photo of three smiling Munsons. Fae has her Dad’s eyes and hair, his impish mischief that had endeared you to the little girl. They really are alike.

“Wayne was right,” he says, muffled beneath his hair before peeking at you, “You are cute.”

It makes you laugh more, though your cheeks feel like the surface of the sun.

“Wayne thinks I’m cute? Huh…”

“No. Nope,” he yelps, head flying up like a wild thing. “Oh my goddd.”

You feel a little spacey as the pieces fall into place. Wayne’s nephew Ed worked at Thatcher Tyre as a mechanic, and Fae had told Hazel her Dad looked like a rockstar. She wasn’t wrong…

“He was totally going to try and set us up or somethin’.”

“He did say I’d finally get to meet you at the Winter Performance…” you say, feeling fizzy-all-over as you come to terms with the shock of it all. “Guess we bet him to it.”

“Told me you were real sweet too.” Eddie smiles, his cheeks are pinker than ever.

Part of your brain berates you for hooking up with a stranger in a small town - a small town where everyone knows everyone else. But when Eddie reaches his hand out across the island and says, “Good to finally meet you, Hazel’s Mom,” with that flirty smile and his whiskey eyes, it melts away and you’re not really that sorry at all.

You take his hand, mug-warmed and adorned with silver rings.

“Nice to meet you at last, Fae’s Dad.”

Neither of you is too embarrassed by the revelation, though you both circle back to how fucking crazy it is at least twice. Even though you still feel gooey-warm under his attention, you don’t want anything to get in the way of your daughter’s friendship, of your new start in Hawkins, and feel selfish for wanting more than the taste you have already had of Eddie Munson. You both know your time together is drawing to an end, the bubble is about to burst, and a little part of you wishes that the illusion of being strangers could have lasted a little longer.

With your coffee consumed and your coats and boots on, Eddie takes your hand and pulls you against his body before you step outside of the door together.

“Hey, gorgeous. One more kiss?” he asks, head tilted to the side.

You don’t need to think about it, and take his stubbled jaw with both hands as he holds your hips. Kissing him makes all the tension roll away once more, and you hope it is enough to help him remember you as more than just some other Mom in the First Grade Parents Group Chat (which you both have muted). You have to savour it, remember his taste and touch.

Eddie is not shy about kissing you, he slides his tongue against yours and moans ever so quietly when you push your chest against his. He is also the one to slow it down, makes it sweet and tender and you would dare say romantic, even with his hands on your ass.

“Can I ask for one more thing?” he whispers, nudging his nose against yours.

Right now, you would consider giving him a kidney or a blow job if he asked nicely.

“Mhm,” you whisper, giving nothing away just yet.

“Can I get your number? I wanna take you out properly,” he says, his thumbs play with the belt loop at the back of your jeans. “Like a date.”

Feeling hot all over, you try to play it cool and not nod so eagerly lest you headbutt him and leave him bloody-nosed.

“Yeah. That would be nice, Eddie.”

He watches how your teeth sink into your lip and has to kiss you once more, just because. You take his phone and add your number and name, adding a little sparkle emoji before deleting it. Then you add it again and hand it back before you can change your mind.

“Cool. And, um maybe the girls could have a play date sometime? I was gonna ask for your number anyway, so y’know. Two birds, one stone and all that. Silver linings?” Eddie does a jazz-hand-flourish thing before he shakes his head at himself and tucks his phone away. “I had a good time with you. A great time. And I know what you might be thinking, I don’t want this to get between the girls either. But I’d love to see you again.”

You are even more endeared by these glimpses of how sensible he is as well as his goofy awkwardness beneath the leather jacket and bad boy stare.

He is as gentlemanly as he had been last night, opening doors for you, though he is less handsy in the bright morning light (he does give your knee a squeeze at the stoplight). You feel safe with him as he navigates the frosty roads of Hawkins, talking about music, what concerts you had been to before becoming parents, and where to get the sparkly tutus for the Winter Performance.

All too soon he pulls up outside your house, spotting the red door with the handmade wreath that you had described.

“Next to Henderson’s?” he asks, brow raised.

“Yep. Do you know Claudia, or is this town just too small?”

He laughs, tilts his head against the headrest. “It’s way too small. Her son, Dustin? One of my best friends.”

You tip your head forward, smiling even as your head shakes. “I’ve heard so much about Dustin. We’re having Christmas dinner with them.”

Eddie's dimpled cheeks crease even more. “Damn. Well, I can’t wait to hear why you picked Hawkins of all places to move to. You can tell me on our date.”

Proud of how that flusters you, he presses a kiss to your hand and winks, “I’ll text you later, sweetheart.”

You want to kiss him again, but you manage to restrain yourself, remembering the nosy neighbours on Cornwallis. Instead, you let the flickering fire inside you flirt back, hoping to fluster him too.

You place your hand high on his thigh and squeeze. “You better, Eddie. Drive safe.”

You can feel him checking you out all over again, the weight and warmth of his gaze, as you make your way up the path to your door. Once your key is in the lock, you part ways with a wave and a wink, lingering just a moment more to watch his car peel away from the curb.

Left with a fluttering feeling in your tummy and warm cheeks that ache from smiling, you take a moment for yourself in your hallway.

It is time to go back to being Hazel’s mom. You can’t wait to hear about her sleepover with Ms. Claudia and the cats, bask in her brilliance and take every hug and smooch she will offer you (or let you take for yourself). Inspired by Eddie and Fae’s breakfast date, you think of taking your girl to the diner for dinner later on, maybe watching a Christmas movie before bed.

In the mirror above your sideboard, hanging above the key dish and the thrifted lamp and a photo of you and Hazel in matching sunglasses, you catch sight of your smiling reflection once more, enveloped in a dreamy daze and borrowed hoodie. Your phone buzzes in your pocket and your smile becomes bigger, brighter, brimming with hope.

What did you think? Do we want more of these two? 👀 Thank you so very very much for reading! Your comments, reblogs and likes are incredibly appreciated and adored!

Whether you're celebrating or not, I am wishing you the cosiest and most wonderful holiday season filled with peace and love and every good thing you deserve ✨

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sheeezu · 18 days ago

Text

My shifting guidebook.

This is my last post, as melodramatic as I was in my last post, since both the posts I've made on here and reddit i got busy with responding to dms (for those confused check my first post) so i didn't permashift.

Unfortunately i still couldn't respond to all the messages and questions sent to my inbox and dms, mainly because of the different time zones and general laziness from my side.

I appreciate everyone who asked questions, although i felt it's a bit unfair since the answers to very common problems didn't reach everyone, and i want everyone to shift, i want everyone to shift tonight, so i decided i'll make a post to share all my knowledge, whatever i know, sort of like a parting gift.

And this isn't going to be a beginners guide, mainly for people who need a final push, and most importantly, for emergency shifters.

Onto the questions (: Divided into categories, skip through according to your needs :)

Detachment from CR, attachment to DR:

How can i detach from my CR/attach to my DR?

Generally, detachment can be achieved by numbing your emotions in your CR. But first, I would advise you to refrain from extreme and unhealthy detachment, because you'll end up getting stuck in a endless cycle of messing up your CR and not shifting (because you'd have no control over yourself, which would lead to your subconscious getting grounded in the messed up version of your CR; assuming that unhealthy detachment is daydreaming about your DR all day without any sense of where you are, without a strong mindset, when you eventually snap back you'll think even more vividly of your CR)

But- "unhealthy" attachment can be utilised to your advantage, to shift, in a controlled manner.

Pick a day to shift, let it be a weekend. After dusk, only indulge yourself in your DR. (When you're sure you have free time and you won't be disturbed) for me, I hid under the blanket, with a fully charged phone, I spent a portion of the hours listening to subliminals, and a portion of the time scrolling through pinterest with spotify in the background (things that remind you of your DR)

I recommend listening to detachment from CR and attachment to DR subs, and if you are a permashifter, and it's your deadline, go all out.

This is my advice for detachment from CR during the day, during the method it'll be different.

How can I detach from my CR while I'm shifting? I can't divert my attention away from my CR body/mind.

I'm writing in the pov of my own method.

The only way you can let go of the CR while you're shifting is with a calm mind. If you're overthinking about how you're going to carry out your method, whether you'd wake back in your CR, you'll have trouble reaching a detached state.

To detach, first of all, make yourself comfortable, do not try to force yourself into doing something, or laying in a position which makes you uncomfortable. Next, think of thoughts which pushes your CR to the side, your CR is just another reality, and you're the creator of it, treat it like its any other pebble on the road.

Affs: (again, void reality meaning your CR)

"Void reality? Huh, can't seem to remember what that is..."

"It's so peaceful not being in the void reality, going to fix it when I eventually return from my DR" (I vividly remember saying this, if you're a permashifter, make it so it fits your situation)

"..."

(Not saying anything says a lot, fall numb to your void reality and go onto your DR)

Remember, you're not answerable to your CR, its not your boss or captor, it's actually the opposite.

To attach to your DR during the method, in the middle phase of my method, say identity affs until you feel familiarise with your DR self, think of memories, have a small conversation with your DR loved ones, do a small rewind of your DR life in your mind, so you can ground yourself. I won't be going into much details on how to shift by becoming your DR self, my first post says it all.

How to detach from CR body?

Detaching your thoughts is basically detaching your CR body, the 30 second black out state is basically a window to shifting, because when your CR shuts up for a even just a few seconds it will give you the opportunity to divert your attention to your DR, no matter how fidgety you are.

Problems faced while shifting:

Something always itches me when I try to shift, any advice?

Before you're shifting, take a look at you're environmental factors, why are you feeling itchy in the first place?

If it isn't bugs, dry skin, I recall that during the method some symptoms are just itchiness.

Say affs to block off your senses first of all, until then try to control yourself

Affs:

"I have stopped sensing my void reality (CR)"

"I have stopped hearing, feeling, seeing my void reality"

If the need gets overwhelming and you're just starting your method, make yourself comfortable and move a bit, or just itch it, you can still shift.

I always fall asleep when I try to shift, what should I do?

During the day you're going to shift, and you know you're just tired and lack sleep, take a nap during the day.

If you didn't nap, or just generally feel sleepy still, turn my method into a sleep method, by letting yourself fall asleep while you're actively acting, thinking like your DR self (you'll wake up in your DR the next day)

Sleeping is a good tool for shifting, especially if you're starting to doze off while doing your method, you can achieve other states such as sleep paralysis, lucid dreaming or mind awake body asleep state, so don't get discouraged, if you prefer awake methods, there are some subliminals you can use to stay awake.

I always fear or dread shifting while doing my method and back out at the last minute.

(Copypasted from reddit)

Familiarise yourself with your DR, it's not scary if you know where you're laying, who you are, what's next to you and who's going to be in the room.

If you already start acting like your DR self then in theory fear shouldn't be here (why would you be scared being yourself in an environment which is supposed to be familiar to you?)

It also depends upon the kind of fear

Fear of spirits snatching your soul mid shift - listen to safety and protection subliminals (no, I wasn't personally possessed by demons last minute but it will put your mind at ease)

Fear of the unknown - familiarise yourself with your DR and shifting

Fear of symptoms - don't focus on them

Just know that nothing fearful will exist as long as you don't allow it to exist, you're the creator of your reality.

Trouble focusing while shifting.

Once you're even a tad bit detached from your CR, you would have no trouble focusing, because it's only your CR body's mind which is causing you trouble, the semi-void state in my method (when you don't feel your body that much, you force yourself to not have thoughts) is all you need to do to go onto the next phase of your method, and trust me, it'll feel very easy for you.

Prior to shifting, listen to frequencies, subliminals, basically flood your subconscious with your desired affs (calm mind subs, focus subs, general shifting and void state subliminals) when you're shifting, stare at the blackness and think of it as a milky way, like you're stargazing, I don't know why but your hyperfixation allows you to focus; count to a hundred, visualise your DR memories, youll eventually reach a trance state where you're focused and ready to shift. (if you can't visualise, then think of it in the form of a story)

Misc:

For folks with ADHD:

(Copy pasted from reddit)

I'd recommend try listening to subliminal (especially bundles) when you aren't feeling like doing anything or if you think your messing up.

Also try to keep yourself as comfortable as possible, if you can distract yourself in a way you aren't attached to your CR activities, for example watching movies or shows or youtube video which require minimal effort and attention

And im saying this only if you're utilizing a single day for shifting, or practicing LOA

while doing the method, i'd try to use as less time as possible, and if you feel off, then you can open your eyes and try the method after a small break.

Can I shift to-

Yes, yes, yes. You can shift to anywhere your mind can think up of, it really is that simple. You can shift to the past, shift to prevent a certain event, you can shift to a reality with a confusing concept, you can shift to become a chair.

Did you shift to a animated DR? How was it like?

I shifted to a pokemon DR where I studied pokemons for a living, but I quickly shifted back after 2 days because I got bored.

Personally for me I get creeped out of anything that's eerie or out of the ordinary.

So basically I scripted that it'll feel normal and I wouldn't even question it.

So I didn't, and now that I think about it, everything was proper, people had noses it wad 3D and everything, so just this reality except everyone looked unnaturally good and the world's graphic were different. If the entire world looks the same then nothing feels weird.

Your opinion on clones/time period?

I don't really care about clones or what they are, mainly because I believe in the consciousness theory, and the multiverse theory is a subdivision of consciousness theory, you basically let yourself believe there is a multiverse and for that reason it exists.

So in perceptive of the multiverse theory, your "clone" is just a body, which comes under your command or control.

It can't mess up your CR life, it'll make the same choices as you like you would have made if you were present in your CR.

Personally I had scripted that when I shift back I will wake up the next morning, following the night when I was shifting.

So my "clone" was just sleeping.

Secondly, stop stressing over your clone,

It'll just do what you want it to do, or just live life how you'd normally would

If you script your clone is a superhuman for the time you're in you DR, you'll shift back to a parallel reality of your CR where a superhuman lived your life for a while, but if you want you can just shift to a better CR like I did.

...

Those are all questions that came in my mind, I tried looking back into the chats and inbox to find more commonly asked questions or something I didn't clarify in my first post but most other questions had straight forward or a clear enough answer.

I really wanted to expand this post with more sections and questions, but in my opinion my first and this post combined are a lot of their own, I think I clarified a lot.

It's been a week being on Tumblr, and I loved helping people out, everyone was kind and unique in their own ways, I looked through my followers scripts and blogs and I enjoyed everyone's dedication to shifting, and their DRs (btw, I hadn't expected to get so many follows and notes, I'm genuinely suprised even now)

It had been a lovely experience being on shiftblr, in my opinion it's the best shifting, or just generally the best community on the internet.

As much as I would like to stay and blog regularly on here, I have to go back home, I'm permashifting in (from the time this post went up) 7 hours, and this time I'm not staying, so refrain from asking me questions after that, I won't respond, but this post will still be up.

Farewell, I hope your shifting journey conclude today and each of you live happily in your DR, with your well deserved love, respect and peace.

Goodbye c:

(Within the 7 hours, I may be partially active, if there is any question that is truly different and a genuine struggle for you, inbox me, I'll try my best to answer; I may as well post my DR script in my last few hours, since some people asked, remind me if I forget; also not posting on reddit, ive already annoyed the mods so much by breaking several rules)

#shifting blog #reality shifting #shiftblr #shifting #shifting antis dni #shifting motivation #shifting community #shifters #shift #desired reality #shifting tumblr #shifting tips #shifting advice

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vrystalius · 3 months ago

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Never giving up on Sanemi, even after pushing you away

He flinches, he yells, he can’t sleep and keeps trying to push you away, but you won’t give up on your husband that easily.

Pairing: Sanemi x gn!reader

(Post-story, infinity castle arc spoiler warning! Traumatised-ish Sanemi)

You two haven’t slept in separate beds yet, but you might as well should. Ever since settling down in the outskirts of a peaceful village and starting a life without demons lurking, Sanemi has changed a lot. He isn’t the loving, cuddly and sometimes overprotective husband. He is flinching every time you come close and immediately pulls away when you try to touch him. His words drip of venom as he tells you to just leave him be, he’s not in the mood for lovely dovely things right now. But he really is anymore.

All your husband does is sit on the porch with his katana and stare into the woods. Watching. Checking. Paranoid demons may be lurking even after watching the demon king be beheaded and eradicated. His grip on the sheath of his katana was tight and if you tried to gently slip it out of his hand, Sanemi’d aggressively pull away and yell at you to just leave him alone, damn it!

You were incredibly worried about your husband and how obviously he is traumatised about everything that happened. You know he tends to suppress his emotions, especially during his hashira years. All this anger and fear that he bottled up is all overflowing now, affecting you.

You laid on your side of the bed, showing your back to him. Sanemi was having another nightmare, you could hear it. The sheets were shuffling beside you and his breaths came out in a short, ragged rhythm. You wanted to roll over and reach out, touch his shoulder and wake him up, pulling your husband into your arms, telling him it’s okay. But it might make him feel worse, you watched how he jumped everytime you touched him so innocently to pull him into a kiss or just a hug. Now that you were thinking about it, when was the last time you kissed him?

Then finally, Sanemi gasped sharply, his arm reaching out for something in the darkness, before tiredly falling back onto the mattress. Everything got silent, only yours and his breaths filling the quietness between you two. You slowly and carefully rolled over to not startle him. His eyes were unfocused and oh so tired. You wanted to brush some hair out of his face and caress his scalp like you used to, remembering the calming effect it had on him, but you didn’t.

“Sanemi, please.”

He didn’t blink, still staring at a non-existent point in the darkness above.

“Talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong so I can help. You’re hurting so much…”

Silent tears began to well up in your eyes but you quickly wiped them away. Sanemi remained silent, rolling over and showing his back to you. A deep sigh escaped your lips as you did the same thing, burying your face in the sheets in an attempt to muffle any sobs daring to exit your mouth. You thought he fell asleep when you didn’t hear him speak.

“I keep seeing him, my brother.”

Your husband mumbled. His voice was deep and raspy, but quiet. You listened, letting him talk.

“I keep thinking he’s there in the corner, or the guys with the black hairs in the village. I’m dreamin’ of him all the time.”

The sheets ruffled beside you and you sensed how Sanemi was facing you now. You didn’t turn around yet, wanting to let him vent.

“I see the six-eyed-freak, blood, fucking blood everywhere. The corridors, Himejima.. I see it all. Every night.”

You heard how his voice began to break slightly. That finally made you turn around, seeing your husband tearing up. You hesitantly reached out and cupped his cheek. Sanemi closed his eyes, carefully leaning into your touch. His lower lip was quivering and his brows furrowed together.

“I’m sorry I keep yellin’, I’m just fucking messed up. I couldn’t protect my fucking brother, couldn’t protect shit…”

Tears couldn’t stop running down his cheek while he was rapidly trying to wipe them away. You moved closer, using both of your hands to cradle his handsome face, wiping the salty tears with your thumb. Sanemi sobbed, holding onto your clothes desperately. He pulled you closer slowly snd wrapped his arms around you, burying his face in your neck. You felt how his whole body was shaking.

“Shh, shhh… It’s okay, you’re going to be okay…Shhh..”

You tightly held him against you, your hand rubbing his back soothingly. He was still sobbing, maybe even louder now, wrapping his legs around you. You sighed quietly.

“We’re going to get through this, okay? You’ll be fine… It wasn’t your fault. You’ll be okay…”

Sanemi shook his head, clinging onto you for dear life.

“I’m sorry, I’m fucking messed up. You shouldn’t be with me, you need someone normal, a fucking healthy person. Not me, not me damn it…”

It was like he was apologising for being severely traumatised, as if it was his fault. Your tight embrace of him never wavered, giving him a little comfort. His tears stopped flowing, now being reduced to just sobbing and shaking. Your hand began working through his hair like you always used to do.

“No, I want to be with you. I choose to be with you, Sanemi. You’re my husband and I love you so so much, more than you can ever imagine.”

You planted a soft kiss on his forehead.

“We’ll get through his together. I’ll stay with you, we can do baby steps. One at a time.”

You wrapped your arms tightly around his shoulders, pressing his head against your chest. Sanemi closely nuzzled against your warm skin, listening to your heartbeat. His hands were still having a death grip on your pyjamas. He nodded quietly.

“Okay… Okay.”

“I love you, Sanemi. I always will.”

Your husband nodded slowly, finally regulating his breathing, his grip loosening.

“Me too. I love you.”

🎃

Fictorber prompt: “I will never give you up.”

Oh jeez I’m so tired. I debated writing today but managed to do it, but now off to bed I go! I’m completely spent for no reason XD

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough.

Take care of yourselves <3

My event Masterlist 🎃

#💠 house of vry 💠#💠vry’s events💠#demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #fluff #demon slayer hashira #sanemi x reader #sanemi x you #demon slayer sanemi #sanemi angst #sanemi shinaguzawa #sanemi #kny sanemi #kimetsu no yaiba sanemi #sanemi shinazugawa #sanemi x y/n

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silverb0wties · 2 months ago

Text

Lemonade - Part 1

Lemonade || leah williamson x alessia russo x child!reader

Summary: When something bad happens to your Mummy and Daddy, you end up living with your Aunty Lessi and Aunty Leah. But is there room for you considering they have a new baby on the way?

Chapter Warnings: death, pregnancy, mentions of stillbirth, house fire, hospitals & doctors

a/n: In this universe Alessia has a fictional older sister

~ I originally posted this a while ago but took it down because I received a bunch of hate for it. A few very nice people have encouraged me to put it back up, so I will see how I go. Constructive criticism is always welcome, but if you don't like this, please just scroll by. 💜 ~

PART 1

You didn’t fully remember what had happened that night.

It had all started off very typical. You’d had tea and a bath and watched a bit of telly before heading upstairs to your room for bed. You were 7 now and a big girl, and certain you didn’t need tucking in anymore, so you gave your Mummy and Daddy kisses and cuddles before you went to brush your teeth and then snuggled under your bed covers to keep reading your current library book, Matilda.

At some point you must have dozed off, because you woke up as your Daddy popped his head in through your door to check on you.

“You alright, Bunny?” he asked. Your nickname had been Bunny for as long as you could remember. You had been given a bunny stuffie named Arthur by your Nana on the day you were born, and he had been your trusty companion ever since. Bunnies were also your favourite animal, however you weren’t allowed one as a pet because your Daddy was allergic. Apparently that meant he came up in big bright red spots whenever he got near one. Surely there was some kind of cream that though.

“Can I come sleep in your bed with you and Mummy?” You had made sure to use your biggest, pleading eyes to try and convince him.

“Ohh alright. But you have to remember to be careful of Mummy’s leg, okay?”

Mummy had hurt her leg a couple of weeks before. She had been playing netball when someone on the other team had crashed into her and she landed poorly. You weren’t totally sure what was wrong, but you knew that it was apparently worse than whatever Aunty Leah had done to her leg. But it was also not as bad because your Mummy wasn’t a professional at netball, she just played for fun, and you think maybe they also won some wine sometimes but you’re not 100% sure. Anyways, she had to go to hospital and have an operation and now she was on crutches (which you weren’t allowed to play on) and you had to help around the house a bit more because it was tricky for Mummy to get around. You didn’t mind though, you were happy to be her little helper.

As you reached your parents room (Arthur clutched tightly under your arm), you found your Mummy already in the bed, her leg propped up on a pillow under the blanket. Before she had a chance to ask what you were doing there, you quickly rattled out “Daddy said I could come sleep with you, please please please!”

Your Mummy just laughed and patted the spot beside her on the bed. A few moments later you and Arthur were snuggled under the covers between your Mummy and Daddy and drifting soundly back to sleep.

The next time you awoke it was to a screeching alarm, one you recognised from when Daddy had tried to bake Mummy a birthday cake but had burned it really, really badly.

“Bunny! Sweetie, wake up!”

As you opened your eyes you realised you were surrounded by thick black smoke. Your chest felt tight, and the smoke stung your eyes so badly you couldn’t keep them open. Everything felt foggy and faint and you could feel yourself quickly falling back asleep.

“Just take her! Save her! Get her out!”

You heard your Mummy’s screams over the blaring of the alarm. You would hear those screams in your nightmares for the rest of your life.

The next thing you remember was being outside your house and your neighbour Mrs Green was passing you to an ambulance man. You had Arthur clutched in your hand by his ear as the man lay you down on a wheely bed and put a funny smelling mask over your nose and mouth.

Then you were at the hospital and there was lots of nurses and doctors scrambling around, poking and prodding you. You had still had the mask on your face that was filling your mouth and nose with funny smelling air. There was a big needle sticking into your arm connected to a bag on a pole that kind of hurt a bit. But worst of all, at some point you had lost hold of Arthur, and you could see him lying sadly on a bench across the room.

“She’s awake.”

“Y/N. Hi, my name is Doctor Smith. We’re just looking over you to make sure you’re doing okay. We’ll get you back to a room really soon and then you can see your family, okay?”

Your family was here! Thank goodness. Whatever had happened, your Mummy and Daddy were fine and you would see them real soon.

You breathed a small sigh of relief but still reached out instinctively for Arthur. A nice nurse with dark hair and big, round glasses noticed and looked over at the bunny.

“Is he your special friend?”

You nodded frantically.

“He’s very dirty at the moment, so he’s going to need a bath before you get him back for cuddles, I think.”

You realised that his normally light purple fur was closer to a dark grey colour, but you couldn’t understand how he got so dirty. Surely a bit of smoke doesn’t get a bunny that dirty.

And then it hit you.

Smoke.

You’d only seen smoke come from a few things in real life before:

When your Daddy had burned that birthday cake

From the cigarettes the old ladies who sat outside the newsagents smoked

When there was lots of pretty fireworks and sparklers after Aunty Lessi and Leah won a big trophy

After you blew your birthday candles out

Smoke came from burning things. Had Arthur been burned?

Before you could ask any questions, you were being wheeled into a room where your Nana and Aunty Lessi were. You loved your Nana and your Aunty Lessi, you really did, but you wanted your Mummy and Daddy. Where were your Mummy and Daddy?

“Oh Y/N, oh sweetie. Oh, thank God you’re okay.” Your Nana was crying as she reached for your hand and kissed your forehead.

You tuned out your Nana and the doctor’s conversation as out of the corner of your eye you spotted the nice nurse with the big, round glasses hand over Arthur, who had now been put in a plastic zippy bag, to your Aunty Lessi. She whispered something to her you didn’t hear and Aunty Lessi nodded and put him carefully in a big sleepover bag she had with her. You wondered why she had a sleepover bag with her here at the hospital.

“Does she know about…?” your Nana asked.

“No. We thought it best that she heard it from family.”

You snapped back to the conversation going on over your head at these words, catching your Nana nodding as she wiped some more tears away from the corner of her eye.

“We’ll leave you be to have some privacy. One of the nurses will be back in a while to check on her, but of course, don’t hesitate to press the buzzer if you need anything.”

As all the hospital staff left, your Aunty Lessi came around to the other side of the bed and gave you a hug as best as she could, trying not to bump your mask or the big needle in your arm.

“Nan-” you attempted to talk, but the smelly mask on your face was making your words sound all mumbly jumbly. You also noticed that it hurt a bit in your chest and throat when you tried to speak, your hand automatically coming up to rest on your neck.

“It’s okay sweetheart, you don’t need to speak. You just rest, okay?” your Nana told you.

You nodded, aware that there was something going on. Something definitely wasn’t right. Your eyes flicked between the two women, noticing that their eyes were red and puffy as though they’d been doing lots of crying.

After a long, awkward silence that seemed to stretch on forever and ever, your Aunty Lessi finally started to speak.

“Bunny, sweetie, there was a fire at your house. We don’t know how or where it started, but there was a very bad fire, and it looks like it has destroyed the whole house.”

Your eyes widened as you began to put it all together – the smoke, the alarm, your Mummy screaming…

“Sweetheart, your Mummy and Daddy didn’t make it out. We don’t know a whole lot yet, but we know that your Daddy ran out of the house with you and gave you to a neighbour. You were very poorly and not breathing very well, and that’s why you’ve got to wear this mask to help you breathe. He went back into the house, we can only assume to try and help your Mummy because she can’t… umm couldn’t move around too well because of her leg. But they never made it out of the house.”

You didn’t really understand. What did she mean they never made it out of the house? Where did they go? Where are they now?

“Bunny, do you understand what I’m saying?” your Aunty Lessi asked.

You shook your head furiously. You just wanted to see your Mummy and Daddy. Why weren’t they here? Were they hurt? Were they also lying in beds somewhere with masks on their faces and needles in their arms?

Your Nana stood up from her chair and sat down softly on the bed beside you. She stroked her hand over your face a few times before cupping your cheek gently in her hands.

“I’m so sorry, Bun… Your Mummy and Daddy, they… oh Less, I can’t. I can’t say it…”

Your Nana pulled away from you, burying her head in her hands as she stood up and turned away slightly.

“It’s okay, Mum. I’ve… I’ve got it.”

Your Aunty Lessi swopped in and scooped your face gently into her hands, running her thumbs soothingly over your cheeks as you looked at her with confusion.

“Bunny sweetie, your Mummy and Daddy… d-died.”

You think your Aunty Lessi kept talking but her words just faded into background noise as you tuned out everything around you. You were there, but not really. Your body was, but your brain was just running over the words “Mummy and Daddy died” over and over and over and over until they lost all meaning.

Mummy died.

Daddy died.

Mummy and Daddy died.

You felt sad, but mostly you just felt kind of… nothing. It felt almost like the sadness was a balloon that grew too big, too fast and it had popped and now all you were left with was nothing.

In the movies and in your books when people died, their family cried lots and lots. Your Nana was crying, and it seemed like your Aunty had been crying. But you didn’t feel like crying. You did really, really feel like rubbing the soft fur of Arthurs ear across your cheek over and over and over though.

You had stayed in the hospital for a few nights before they let you go home.

Well, not really home.

But your new home.

You were going to live with your Aunty Lessi and Aunty Leah. Your Aunty Lessi was your Mummy’s sister and Aunty Leah was her wife. They both played football for their jobs and travelled a lot. Before… well, before, you would go and visit them, or they would come visit and you would tell them all about the books you’d been reading and what you’d been learning in school and show them all the different breeds of rabbits there were in the big scrap book you’d been putting together. That scrapbook was gone now though. You weren’t sure if you would start making a new one.

Your Aunty Lessi had the most beautiful smile, and she always seemed to be able to make everyone laugh and be happy. And your Aunty Leah was always a really good listener, and she gave the most excellent hugs. Sometimes you would go and watch them play football, but you weren’t really interested in sports. It was always too loud and there was way too many people there. But it was always exciting when your Aunty Lessi would score a goal though, because if she knew you were in the crowd, she would point in your direction and make a heart with her hands.

You liked your Aunties. You loved them. But you’d never spent the night at their house or had a sleepover with them. You didn’t know any of the rules, and you didn’t have your Mummy to remind you of them before you went. You wanted to be on your bestest behaviour, having read far too many stories and seen too many television shows about children whose parents died and then their new families treated them poorly. You didn’t think you’d do very well in an orphanage or living on the streets. You weren’t very tough like those kids were.

You’re not quite sure what to think of your new room at your Aunty Lessi and Leah’s house. It’s very… adult. A bit boring to be honest. Just a big adult bed, a dresser and two bedside tables. There is a big window however that overlooks the back garden that you quite like. But you’re just grateful for somewhere to sleep really, thankful that your Aunties are letting you stay here at all. You’d happily sleep on the loungeroom floor.

“We will pretty it up and get you lots of new toys and decorate it however you want, Bun.” Your Aunty Lessi was stroking your hair as you cuddled into her side. “This is just temporary until your new bed and furniture arrives and we get you all settled in, okay?”

You nodded gently, not really knowing how else to respond. You were a bit shocked that they’d ordered you a new bed and were going to get you new toys.

“We did get you a few things to start you off with, just until we can all get down to the shops together to pick out some stuff. I hope they’re okay…” Your Aunty Leah gestured towards the corner where you could see a few boxes and some brightly coloured stuffies peeking out through the handles of some shopping bags. You looked up at her and blinked, unsure as to whether you were meant to thank her or go and inspect the items or what.

“We can go through that stuff later if you like?” Aunty Lessi suggested, squeezing your shoulder. “How about we grab something to eat for lunch?”

Just as you were turning to leave the room, a tuft of light purple fluff caught your eye among the bags.

"Is that Arthur?" you asked.

"Oh, your bunny? Yes, Aunty Leah gave him a really good bath and got him all clean again."

You dashed forward and grabbed him from the pile of other toys and clothing, bringing him up to your face to rub his soft ears over your cheeks.

You wanted to say thank you, but those words didn't seem big enough. Instead, you hoped that someday, somehow you would be able to somewhat show your Aunties how much you appreciated them.

With Arthur now tucked under your arm, the three of you made your way down the hall towards the stairs.

“Oh, and remember that is mine and Aunty Lessi’s room,” Aunty Leah gestured towards a door on the right of the hall, pushing it open with her foot. “If you ever need anything during the night, please don’t hesitate to come and get us. I’m up and down all throughout the night going to the loo anyways because of this one,” she smirked as she rubbed her growing belly.

“Does it hurt? Growing a baby?”

You don’t really know why you asked. You were curious, sure. Your own tummy hurt a bit when you ate too much food, so surely having a baby in there hurt lots. But now definitely wasn’t the time to ask that kind of question.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

However your Aunty Leah just chuckled and nodded at you. “It doesn’t exactly hurt, but it is rather uncomfortable at times, especially if the baby moves into an awkward position or kicks a weird spot.”

“The baby kicks you?” you asked.

“Oh yeah! They’re gonna be a striker just like your Aunty Less, I’m sure of it!”

Aunty Lessi nudged you and pointed at your hand. “You might actually be able to feel the baby move some time, Bunny”

“Really? Could I?”

Your Aunty Leah’s smile was a big and bright as you’d ever seen it. “They’re moving around now. Do you want to try and feel?”

You nodded excitedly. You had always wanted a baby brother or sister. Your Mummy and Daddy had told you once that there was one on the way, but then a while later when they’d gone to the hospital, they came home really sad and said that baby brother was born sleeping.

You had only just turned 4 when that happened, and you didn’t understand why they didn’t just wake him up. But Daddy explained that that is what people sometimes say when the baby isn’t born alive.

Mummy had been sad for what seemed like years after that. She spent a lot of time in bed, and she cried more than you’d ever seen her cry before in your life. You’d tried to cheer her up by drawing her pictures and singing her songs and giving her your biggest, bestest cuddles. But Daddy said the only thing that would make Mummy better was time.

He was right. She had slowly returned to her normal self. You were very grateful, because you had missed the little things like the silly songs she would sing when she would wash your hair, and the smiley faces she would make out of blueberries in your pancakes.

As your Aunty Leah gently cradled your hand and brought it up to her swollen tummy, you felt a small whooshing movement under your little hand.

“Did you feel that?”

You nodded quickly, your gaze meeting your Aunty Leah’s as she smiled tenderly at you. You couldn’t believe you could feel the baby moving in her tummy. It all started to feel very real.

“They’re moving around quite a bit tonight. I think they’re quite excited to have you here with us, Bun.”

“Do you know if it’s a boy or girl?” you asked.

“No, we decided to wait until the baby is born to find out and let it be a surprise. We really don’t mind what their gender is, we’re just excited for them to be here and to meet them. Oh, there they go again, did you feel that kick?”

You nodded again, pulling your hand away from your Aunty Leah’s tummy as a sinking feeling began settling in your own.

You knew you weren’t a part of your Aunties plan. They were having a baby, and becoming Mums, which you were sure was something new and super exciting for them. But now they also had you to look after as well, which they weren’t expecting and had probably changed so many things for them. Surely, surely they would be much happier without you here ruining their perfect new little family?

#woso fanfics #woso fanfic #leah williamson x reader #alessia russo x reader #arsenal x reader #leah williamson x alessia russo x reader #woso fic #woso imagine #woso x reader #lemonade #leah williamson #alessia russo

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disneyprincemuke · 11 months ago

Text

of drunk regrets * fem!driver

the morning after vegas

what does one do when you have no recollection of getting married?

pairings: sebastian vettel x fem!driver, logan sargeant x fem!driver, max verstappen x fem!driver, oscar piastri x fem!driver, mick schumacher x fem!driver

notes: hi late update and that’s because i was crocheting the entire day lol

(series masterlist)

she hums turning around, her arm landing on something solid instead of a soft pillow. she opens an eye, flinching back when her eyes land on someone’s clothed back, then groans when nausea slowly hits her.

“who the fuck is this?”

the person next to her hums. they left their head before dropping it back into the pillow. “mm.”

she looks around to the best of her ability, snorting when she realises that amidst all her drunken antics from the night before, they didn’t even end up on the bed. they’re sleeping on the carpeted floor of her hotel room.

she lifts her head, ignoring the nausea hitting her all at once. the bed is empty.

a hand comes up to nurse her head, looking down at the body lying next to her with the blanket draped over their shoulder loosely. she brought somebody back to her hotel room with her? now that’s just a tabloid rumour waiting to blow up in her face when she opens up her phone.

she leans forward, wobbling slightly, as she tries to get a glimpse of their face. her eyes widen, landing a smack on their shoulder with some force. "what the hell are you doing here?"

"don't hit me, i'm trying to sleep."

"mick! you're in my hotel room!"

"what?" blue eyes are exposed to the dim lights of the room, disappearing once more when mick shuts his eyes. "what am i doing here?"

"how would i know?" she sighs, slowly lying back down on the ground. "i don't remember anything."

"we didn't do anything... did we?"

she looks down at herself, surprisingly dressed in her pyjamas without any recollection of even making it back into her hotel room in the first place. "i hope not."

"you hope?" mick cries, shaking his head in dismay. "this is not good."

"give me a second. i need to think," she sighs, pressing the back of her hand to her forehead. "start thinking. do you remember anything from last night?"

mick also sighs, simply shaking his head. he pulls the blanket over his body and snuggles back into his pillow. "no, but wake me up when you've figured it out. i'm really hungover right now, mate."

"really? you don't think i am?"

"i'm sure you are, but– what the hell is this on my finger? when did i get a mood ring?"

"you have a mood ring?" there's a momentary pause. "oh, look. i've got one too. when did i–"

they both sit up hurriedly, hissing in pain as they point at each other with a loud gasp. "no! are you serious? did we really do that? when did we even have the time to do that?"

mick cries. "my mother is going to kill me."

"mine will kill me – i'm barely 21, mick!"

"i'm going to american jail! you're not even legal here!" he rubs his eyes. “i don’t wanna go to jail here!”

she scrambles around for her phone, eyes widening at her notifications.

SUPERMAX you and mick???

RATSELL what's ur ig post about m8?

LOWGAN when u wake up, there's a cup of water and an advil on the bedside for u also, check ur instagram

PASTRY you did the funniest thing last night.

LILLIES thanks for the free pizza wish i could've been there for the actual ceremony though? it's ok, maybe at your next wedding

ALBONO please tell me you didn't

LAW SON i think u may have sent logan over the edge cuz wtf is bro doing in my hotel room ranting to charlotte and i at 5am

MICKEY ur asleep rn i can't sleep when do u think we should renew our vows??? oh no we got married!??!??!

BLYTHE mate u got married without me in attendance??? not saying i'm offended but like seriously?

THE BETTER SARGEANT who u married to? if it's logan istg omg is it mick? i saw ur instagram

LANCE

congrats!!!

if i’d known sooner, i’d have bought you a wedding gift before landing in vegas

i’ll get one before the last race i promise

SEBASTIAN ur very funny, do u know that? text me when ur up, we should talk

MUMMY wowww let me know what wedding gift to get you you grow up so fast, my love

PAPA what is all this ruckus i'm hearing between mum and blythe about you getting married? call me.

KRISTEN (PR) team meeting asap. bring the schumacher.

she glances at mick. "my dad's going to kill you."

mick turns to her, shoulders slumped with his eyes widened in panic. "i really really hope my mother gets to me first." he shakes his head and pats around the ground for his phone. "you know what? i'll just tell her myself."

“don’t bother,” she scoffs, lying back down in the pillow sprawled on the floor. “i vividly remember you calling gina when we were getting pizza that you married me in vegas.”

kristen chews on the inside of her cheek, scanning the group around her. "what is this? i only told you to bring mick."

the girl takes off the sunglasses on her face and sighs. "you think i didn't try telling them off? is this your first time meeting these losers? i– listen, i'm too hungover to tell them off, kristen."

"please let us stay?" max smiles, batting his eyelashes at the older woman. "i promise we'll be quiet. i'm just curious over the events of last night."

"so am i," kristen points out in a soft voice, moving her eyes over the pair seated on the couch on the other side of her table. at that point, they are the least of her concerns. "do you know the pr nightmare you just caused over a couple of drinks? do you have any idea the reckless thing you just did?"

"please don't shout," she says softly, eyes closing. "it was stupid, we know. in my defense–"

"they shouldn't have even let us in the chapel in the first place in that state," mick sighs, shaking his head disapprovingly. “so technically, whose fault is it, really?”

“both of yours for even coming up with the stupid idea in the first place!” logan screams, pointing at them in frustration. “you made a bad decision!”

kristen glances at logan, shooting him a side eye for disrupting her meeting. when logan shrugs, she simply looks back at the married pair her seats. “you’re not even 21! you did this in america too! god!”

“and they shouldn’t have permitted it knowing that i wasn’t 21!” the young girl shrieks, immediately defending herself. this is a hill she is willing to die on. “let’s focus more on the fact that they let two drunk idiots get married instead of the fact that i thought of it.”

“you came up with that idea?” max throws his head back, hissing softly as he shook his head. “why am i not surprised?”

“right? you have to tell her how stupid she is for this,” logan rambles in frustration. “seriously! you couldn’t go one year without making a stupid decision?

she rolls her eyes, glancing at mick from the side of her eyes. he flashes her an apologetic grin and she shrugs with another eye roll in response.

“i mean, you’re an adult. you can do whatever you want, but do you know how legally exhausting the entire process will be from here on out?” max continues, throwing his arms in the air. “knowing you, you won’t like it! there’s a lot of papers to sign!”

“and paper work to read!” logan adds on. “seriously!”

“god, (y/n), how could you be so stu–“

“i came up with the idea,” mick speaks out, turning to max and logan with a small smile. “it’s not her fault, you guys. come on. lay off her a little bit.”

she shoots him a questioning stare. “no, wait–“

mick laughs. “the deal at the pizza place just looked so good. i’m not excusing it because we were drunk, but cut us some slack.”

sebastian, sitting quietly in the corner of the room, finally stands up. he folds his arms over his chest. “it doesn’t matter who came up with the crazy idea to get married in vegas.”

“you’re still not mad?” logan raises an eyebrow. “there’s got to be some part of you that is.”

“how about let me conduct my meeting with my driver in peace? unless you want to take over my job of being her pr officer…” kristen speaks out, looking around the room to shut down any more forms of interruption. she looks back at her. “let me see the marriage certificate.”

“the what?”

“you signed one, didn’t you?“

she scrunches her nose and looks at mick. “did we sign one? i really can’t remember.”

“i don’t,” mick cuts himself off, looking just as clueless, “i literally blacked out last night. i don’t remember anything.”

sebastian beams, standing a little straighter. “i have it right here! look at it, kristen.”

he puts down a piece of paper on the table. the entire room watches the woman read over the paper, lips pressed together.

a small laugh bubbles from her, grabbing the certificate into her hands and bringing it closer to her face. her laugh gets a little louder, sebastian eventually joining her with a hand over his mouth.

“what is so funny?” she sighs, rolling her eyes. “all i can think about is the shopping spree i can’t have this month over the lawyer fees.”

“and the fact that i could end up in american jail for marrying a 20-year-old!”

kristen grins, slamming the certificate down onto the table. “it’s illegitimate.”

“what?”

“oh?”

“surprising turn of events!”

“illegitimate?”

a hand slams into the table, the youngest in the room jumping to her feet. “illegitimate? what about my free pizza? how is that illegitimate? i’m not a schumacher anymore?”

“you changed your name?” oscar pipes up, roaring in laughter, covering his face. this entire ordeal has been very amusing to him.

she turns around sheepishly with a small smile. “i was planning to. how cool would it be to be a schumacher?”

“what the fuck?” logan says to her, bewildered at the thought process. “you’re not married and you’re telling me that’s the only thing you’re concerned about? not being a schumacher in the eye of the law?”

mick giggles, looking up at her with an impressed expression. “schumacher does go along well with your name.”

“i know. should we get married for realsies after this weekend and legally change my name?”

“have you learned nothing from this?” kristen throws her hands into the air. she leans back into her seat, letting out the heaviest sigh of relief as she no longer has to engage with any legal teams. pr wise, it would be easy.

she shrugs, sitting back down into the cushioned seat. “don’t get drunk with mick in vegas.”

“first and last time i’m drinking that much with you,” mick adds on with a snort. though, there’s a small smile playing on his face as he looks at her.

they both know that won’t be the last time they’ll be sending their pr officers into a frenzy. they’re truly a force to be reckoned with.

and, it could have been worse.

“i paid for all the pizzas you ate and threw up last night,” sebastian sighs, shaking his head. “you owe me like $100.”

she nods. “okay, i’ll pay you. still no shopping spree for me this month, i guess.”

mick clicks his tongue, giving her a thumbs up. “i’ll pay him. consider it my wedding gift to you, wife.”

“she’s not your wife,” logan points out with an eye roll. “didn’t even get married in the first place, remember? illegitimate. not even a real certificate. never happened. literally no record of it.”

“i’m curious,” max furrows his eyebrows and lips pouted out. “how did you pull this off to make it seem real, seb?”

“i arrived to their ‘wedding’–“

“not real!”

“logan, cut it out.”

“–before them. i spoke to the receptionist before they arrived; they don’t let drunk people get married. i convinced her to give them the slot anyway just to teach these two a lesson.”

“impressive?” kristen smiles. “you just saved me a lot of paper work.”

“and mick the beating he’d get from her dad if it actually ever happened to go through.”

she smiles, leaning over the arm rest to whisper at mick. she taps him on the shoulder. “we should celebrate with ice cream.”

— bonus

they flood out of the office collectively, the young girl looking down at the mood ring around her ring finger. “we should keep the rings, shouldn’t we, mick? keepsake.”

“to remind you of your bad decision making?” logan questions.

“no, to piss you off.” she turns around and shoves him back gently. “of course, just to keep memory of the one time i was almost a schumacher!”

sebastian tilts his head. “you know you’ll still be you, right? even if you’re legally considered a schumacher? you won’t get his blue eyes.”

“i could,” she hums with a smile. “so, husband. watching the race from my garage tonight like a factory manufactured wag?”

“can’t, wife,” mick sighs. “i work for mercedes.”

“i could get you the second seat if you wanted.”

“you have the power to do that?” she nods. “that’s hot.”

“cut it out, you guys are making max uncomfortable!” oscar grunts, pushing the pair apart.

beside them, max has his fingers plugged into his ears and is humming softly to himself. “it’s not real, it’s not real. they’re not actually married,” he whispers to himself. “and it will never happen.”

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d0llcuries · 2 months ago

Note

HIIII 🫶 i wanted to ask if i could request a neteyam x omatikaya readerrr where she’s caring for him while he’s healing from the bullet so it’s like just a bit after the war (bc in my head he didn’t die 😔😔😔) and she’s checking up on him making sure he’s okay distracting him from pain/the situation hopefully that makes some sense just some cute stuff like that hehe. (im delusional 💓)

THANKS BABE

KISS YOU BETTER

pairing(s): neteyam x fem!na'vi reader

summary: healing is a process. a slow, lonely and frightful one. you do what you can to be there for him, forever thankful to eywa that he still has breath in his lungs.

author's note: i am the world's fattest dillydallyer, i fear. bear with me folks please and thankss!!

neteyam’s chest rises and falls in shallow breaths, his skin too warm under your palm where his heartbeat drums, faint, beneath layers of gauze and healing paste. the evening light, watery and red through the fibers of the marui pod, filters down over him, casting a glow that makes his blue skin look brighter.

a faint lustre of sweat lies at his temples. you can’t tell if it is the heat or the strain of healing that makes him look fragile, but it is unsettling. it feels like months have passed since that day. the bullet. the blood. the scream that ripped from your throat like you could tear the world in half with it.

he's been in and out of it for days. sometimes, he wakes with a shudder, his fingers twitching as if he’s reaching for his knife or his bow or something to hold onto before his muscles relax and he lays dormant once again. you wonder, not for the first time, what he dreams of now. if he’s still out there, somewhere between life and death, between the stars and the ground, or if he’s here, with you, feeling the soft pressure of your fingers on his skin, the warmth of your breath on his neck. you wonder if he feels the way your hands shake, if he knows how scared you are, even though you don’t say it.

“yawne,” he murmurs, voice raspy, cracking around the edges. it’s the only word he seems to have the strength for lately. my love. you could hear it a thousand times, and still, it would twist your insides in knots, the feeling churning beneath your ribs like roots digging into soil that’s too dry to give way. he says it like it is his only bind to the world.

the air inside the tent is sticky, thick, a little too sweet with the musk of old herbs and the iron tang of blood. you can taste it on your tongue as you breathe, cloying, like when you bite too hard into a mango and the juice drips down your chin, half-spoiled, but still too good to stop. the world is settling outside the night drawing in like a slow breath and inside, the hush of it, the weight of it, sinks into your skin, pools behind your eyes, heavy and aching.

his lashes cast long shadows across his cheeks, his lips chapped and parted as he pulls in uneven breaths. you move carefully, your hands trembling just a little as they skim over his ribs, up to his face, cradling his jaw in your palms. he feels fragile. your body aches in ways you can’t describe, the knots in your muscles from sleeping beside him, always curled up in awkward positions, always watchful. your knees are sore from kneeling too long, your neck stiff from leaning against the wooden posts of the tent. but all that discomfort it feels so small, so inconsequential, in the face of his suffering.

you stroke his hair back, letting the braids slip through your fingers one by one. the roots are damp, curls matted against his scalp. you hum a little under your breath, some half-forgotten melody your mother used to sing when you were small, when the days felt longer and the nights less lonely. the sound barely reaches your ears, swallowed by the thick air, but neteyam stirs, just a fraction, his lips twitching like he's trying to smile, trying to remember how.

dried blood like rust staining the fresh bandages you’ve wrapped around him. your hands know the routine now. the careful unraveling of cloth, the soft hiss of his breath when the cool air touches the wound, the gentle pat of the herbs pressed to his skin. you move like you’re in a trance, like this is a dream, and maybe it is. maybe none of this is real.

you press another kiss to his lips this time, barely more than a whisper of touch, but it feels like a promise. i’m here. i’m staying.

you trace the lines of his collarbone, the curve of his jaw, your touch light, as if you’re afraid he’ll shatter under your hands. you won’t leave me, you think, pressing your lips to the hollow of his throat, you can’t.

you kiss him again, soft, featherlight kisses that brush his skin like a promise, like a prayer. and with each one, you hope—this one will heal him. this one will be enough. but hope is like the wind, you think. it slips through your fingers no matter how tightly you hold on.

so you lie there, listening to the sound of his breathing, the faint rustle of the tent, the hum of the forest, and you wonder how many more kisses it will take before he’s whole again.

his presence is a tether, thin as it may be, binding you here. holding you together, even though the world outside feels as though it has unraveled completely. you sit beside him, legs curled under you, skin tingling with exhaustion. your bones feel like they might fold in on themselves, but none of that matters. wake up.

a sound escapes him. his lips move—just the faintest twitch, but it is something. he is here.

“neteyam,” you whisper. saying his name and it aches to let it out.

his lips part, a dry rasp of breath slipping through, and you reach for the gourd beside you, lifting it to his mouth. the water pools in the curve of his lips, slow and steady.

“drink,” you murmur, your voice catching on the word.

he drinks, the water moving down his throat in quiet gulps, each one easing the tightness there, smoothing the lines of strain from his face. you watch the way his throat moves, the tension softening just a little. when he is done, you lower the gourd, your thumb brushing against his lips, catching the drops that linger there.

your breath catches in your throat as neteyam’s eyes flutter open, the softest sliver of gold peeking through the lashes you have been watching so closely, day after day. your heart leaps before you can even stop it, a wild, untamed thing in your chest, and you do not know whether to laugh, cry, or scream. your hands hover above him, trembling with the need to touch him, to pull him into you, but you stop yourself, knowing how fragile he still is. every fiber of your being is vibrating with joy, your body a live wire of emotions, but you hold yourself back, afraid of overwhelming him, of hurting him.

“nete!” you breathe, the word coming out as half-laughter, half-sob, and you are trembling with the effort it takes not to throw yourself into his arms. your fingers brush his cheek, feather-light, as if he might disappear if you press too hard. the ache in your chest is too much, too bright, and all you can do is smile down at him, wide and breathless, blinking back the tears that blur your vision. he is here, really here, and you do not know how to contain it, how to quiet the storm of happiness that surges through you. you lean down, your forehead just barely touching his, and whisper, “you are awake!” your voice shaking with the weight of all the things you cannot say, all the joy you cannot express without breaking apart.

“you should be resting,” he says, and the sound of it makes your breath catch again. you have heard this voice so many times, but now it feels new, fragile.

you let out a soft laugh, half surprise, half relief, your fingers drifting through his hair, catching the strands that have come loose from his braids. “so should you,” you whisper, feeling the way his body hums beneath your touch, the way his presence pulls you in like the tide, slow and unrelenting.

he makes a small sound, something between a sigh and a hum, and it vibrates through your bones, quiet and deep. his hand tightens on yours, just a little, but enough. enough to remind you that he is here, that you are tethered to him still.

“i missed you,” you say, the words slipping out before you can stop them, too heavy with meaning. it is not just the missing of these last few days, these long, aching hours. it is the missing of something bigger, something that stretches across time. something that you cannot name.

he hums again, and you feel it in the space between your ribs, that soft agreement. you missed him too, even though you were never really gone. his breathing slows, and for the first time in what feels like forever, there is peace on his face.

“you are going to get better,” you whisper, as if saying it out loud might make it true. as if the words might stitch him back together, might pull him from the edge of whatever dark place he has been hovering near. you press your lips to his brow, kissing the smooth skin there, untouched by the pain that has tried to claim him.

another kiss, this one softer, to the tip of his nose, then his jaw, your lips trailing down to the place where his pulse beats steadily beneath the surface of his skin. he is still here.

you press your mouth to that spot, feeling the rhythm of his life under your lips, and you think, “you know,” you murmur against his skin, “if kissing you could heal you faster, you would be running by now.”

his chest moves with a low sound, something between a chuckle and a breath, and it fills the space between you like music. it makes you smile, makes your heart stutter and swell, and you nuzzle into him, your face pressed against the warmth of his neck, your hand splayed over his chest, trying to anchor yourself in this moment.

“you are doing a good job, then,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper, but it is full of something light, something playful.

your heart leaps at the sound, and you lift your head to look at him, to see the faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. his eyes are still closed, but there is life in him now, a flicker of the boy you know—the boy who makes you laugh, the one who makes you feel like the world is not such a terrible place after all.

“then i will keep doing it,” you say, pressing another kiss to his cheek, your smile wide and soft, full of too much feeling.

“do not stop,” he murmurs, and it is almost playful, almost light, and you can feel your heart swelling again, pushing against your chest like it might burst.

you press your forehead to his, your body melting into his warmth, and the world outside feels so far away now, like it cannot reach you here.

“i will not,” you promise, the words slipping from your lips like a vow, like something sacred.

the silence returns, but it is full now, heavy with the weight of everything you have not said, everything you do not need to say. his breathing steadies, slow and rhythmic, and your body sinks into his, your exhaustion finally easing, replaced by something softer. something that feels like peace.

and in this quiet, in this small, fragile moment, you feel it—the hope that has been hiding in the corners of your heart. you feel it blooming, slow and tentative, but there, growing in the space between you.

because he is still here. and you are still here. and that, somehow, is enough.

the sun was unforgiving, but you dug your fingers into the sand anyway, letting it gather beneath your nails, small grains cool against the heat that pressed down on your skin. the ocean sang before you, waves rolling softly toward the shore, brushing against your toes before retreating, almost shy in their touch. you tilted your face up toward the sky, letting the light cascade over you, trying to soak in its warmth, trying to let it chase away the heavy ache in your chest.

you didn’t know how long you’d been sitting there, but it didn’t matter. you came here often now, to this spot just beyond the village, where you could hear the water breathing, feel the sand shift beneath you, and pretend, for a moment, that everything was right. you dug your fingers in deeper, the sensation grounding you, pulling you back from the thoughts that threatened to drag you under.

neteyam was healing. slowly, carefully, but the wounds were still fresh, the memory of his blood staining your hands still too sharp. there were nights you woke with that same metallic scent in your nose, the image of him falling, so still and quiet, burned behind your eyelids. even now, as the sun beat down on you, your mind circled back to it—over and over.

you curled your fingers into fists, the sand slipping through them, leaving nothing but the feel of it sticking to your palms. you hated this. this waiting, this stillness. but you hated it more for him. neteyam wasn’t made to lie still. he was built for movement, for the hunt, for the wild freedom of the forest and sky. now, he was trapped. and in a way, so were you.

your eyes flickered toward the horizon, where the sea stretched out in endless blue. there was a celebration tonight—the metkayina’s way of welcoming a new season. you remembered the last one, how the village had come alive, vibrant and wild. you’d danced with neteyam then, under the stars, laughing as the ocean crashed around your feet. everything had felt light, easy. before.

now, the thought of going felt… wrong. how could you join in their joy when so much of yours was tethered to him, back in that marui, lying still and quiet? how could you celebrate without him by your side?

you pushed yourself up slowly, your body resisting the movement, as if it too was reluctant to leave this spot. you wiped the sand from your hands, shaking your head at your own thoughts. no neteyam, no joy. it was simple, really. without him, nothing felt complete.

the marui was bathed in soft light when you returned, the warm glow of the afternoon filtering in through the slats. it was quieter now, the village settling into the rhythm of evening. inside, neteyam lay where you left him, though his eyes fluttered open as you stepped closer. kiri and tuk were still there, but kiri shot you a small, tired smile, relief evident in the way her shoulders sagged.

“thank you,” she murmured, barely audible, as she stood, tugging tuk up gently. tuk looked up at you, her eyes bright as she offered a tiny smile, her fingers brushing your leg as she passed by. “he’s all yours.”

you nodded, giving her a grateful look before she slipped out of the marui, tuk trailing behind her, the sound of their soft footsteps disappearing into the distance. and then there was only the quiet. the kind of quiet that settled easily between you and neteyam, comfortable, familiar, as if it had always been this way.

you knelt beside him, your eyes tracing the lines of his face, studying the way the light played over his skin. his breathing was slow, steady, and for a moment, all you could do was watch the gentle rise and fall of his chest, the way his fingers twitched slightly as if he was reaching for something just out of grasp.

“they are gone?” his voice broke the silence, soft and low, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“they are gone,” you confirmed, your hand instinctively reaching for his cheek, fingers brushing over the warmth of his skin. it was a simple touch, one you found yourself craving more and more, needing the reassurance of his presence, of his life beneath your fingertips.

he leaned into your touch, his smile widening just a fraction, though it didn’t quite chase away the exhaustion that lingered in his eyes. “good.”

for a moment, you just sat there, letting the quiet stretch between you, not needing to fill it with words. you had said everything already, in the days following his injury, in the long hours spent by his side, watching over him while he healed. the words weren’t important. this was. being here. being with him.

the soft hum of the village outside broke the stillness, the faint sounds of preparation for the celebration beginning to drift into the marui. laughter echoed from somewhere far off, the rhythm of drums picking up in the distance, the promise of festivity hanging in the air. but you didn’t care for it, not tonight. not when neteyam was still here, still recovering. the idea of leaving him behind, of being anywhere without him, felt impossible.

“the festival,” he murmured suddenly, his voice pulling you from your thoughts. his eyes opened fully now, locking onto yours with a quiet intensity. “you should go.”

your brow furrowed in confusion, tilting your head slightly as you searched his face. “why?”

“because you should,” he replied, as though the answer was obvious, his gaze flickering with something you couldn’t quite name. “you have not been out… you have not done anything in forever.”

“i do not need to,” you said simply, shrugging as though the thought had never occurred to you. because it hadn’t.

he shifted slightly, discomfort flashing briefly across his face, though he hid it well. “you should nkt miss out because of me. it is not fair.”

you blinked, the frustration flaring just beneath the surface. how could he think that? how could he even suggest that any of this was his fault, or that you were missing out on anything at all? he was here. and that was enough.

“neteyam,” you began softly, your fingers brushing over the curve of his cheekbone, trying to soothe the tension you saw building there. “i have fun wherever you are. it does not matter what is happening outside.”

his frown deepened, like he didn’t quite believe you, like he was still carrying the weight of guilt for everything that had happened—for being hurt, for making you stay. but you didn’t press him further. you knew he needed time to understand. you weren’t missing anything. the world could celebrate all it wanted outside; you’d remain here, tethered to him, with him.

the rest of the day unfolded in small moments. the kind that didn’t need words to fill them. you stayed by his side, sometimes talking, other times letting the soft sounds of the village drift in from outside, the lull of the ocean a constant, gentle presence. he watched you in those quiet moments, his eyes following you as you moved around the marui, his gaze lingering as though he needed the reassurance that you were still there, still with him.

the sun was low in the sky now, casting everything in hues of gold and pink. the sounds of the festival had grown louder, laughter mingling with the rhythmic beat of drums, the clinking of shells as decorations were strung along the walkways. the energy outside was palpable, the village alive with celebration, but inside your marui, the quiet remained.

neteyam shifted again, his body protesting the movement, though he masked the discomfort as best he could. his eyes flickered toward the entrance of the marui, the faintest trace of music filtering through the air.

he turned back to you, his gaze more focused this time, more determined. “go get something to eat.”

you blinked, your brows knitting together as you stared at him. “what?”

“food,” he repeated, his tone light but insistent. “from the festival. go grab some.”

narrowing your eyes, you studied his face. he hadn’t let you out of his sight for more than a few minutes in the past days, and now he was practically urging you to leave. “what are you planning?”

“nothing,” he replied. “i am hungry. go. please?”

your lips pressed into a thin line, clearly unconvinced, but you rose to your feet anyway, giving him one last look before slipping out of the marui. the air outside was cooler now, the night settling in around you, and you could feel the pulse of the village as you made your way toward the center, where the celebration was in full swing. your mind already drifted back to neteyam, wondering what he was up to, why he was so adamant about sending you away. it wasn’t like him. not now, not when he needed you.

the food spread along the long, low tables is almost too much to look at, piles of bright fruits and roasted fish, grains and herbs twisted into fragrant shapes, everything vibrant and rich, as though the night itself has bloomed into this feast. your fingers brush over the cool surface of a carved bowl, feeling the delicate grooves, the weight of the work that went into every small detail. you carefully fill your basket, trying not to disturb too much of the display, slipping a few extra pieces of fruit between the flatbread and smoked meats, thinking of tuk’s bright eyes when she sees what you have brought back. the thought brings a smile to your lips, but it is fleeting, tempered by the pull of responsibility that sits low in your stomach. neteyam is still weak, and you know he will not eat unless you bring him something.

“you are not staying?” tsireya’s voice is soft but lilting, a note of surprise carried by the night air as she steps toward you, her hair catching in the lantern light, strands of it glowing like spun copper. her eyes are wide and kind, her arms laden with shells strung together on thin threads, swaying with the easy grace of the ocean. she leans in, “you are always leaving so quickly. you should enjoy yourself tonight.”

you smile at her, tucking the basket closer to your side. “i wish i could,” you say, and it is the truth, though it feels like a half-formed thing on your tongue, like something left out in the sun too long. even as you speak, you feel the quiet distance between you and the festival, like you are watching it all from the other side of a glass wall. tsireya’s face softens, a flicker of understanding passing through her eyes, but before she can say anything else, tuk comes bounding up, her small hands tugging at the hem of your skirt, her face lit up with excitement.

“you have to stay for the dancing!” tuk’s voice is bright, her breath coming quick from her running. she looks up at you with such earnestness that it tugs at something in your chest, the way only a child can, her wide eyes reflecting the shimmering lights around you like she is holding the stars themselves. tsireya gives you a look, one that is all gentle encouragement, a soft nudge in the direction of the night’s festivities, and for a moment, just a moment, you consider it. staying. letting the music and laughter carry you for just a little while, letting the world slip away for a few hours. but then the weight of the basket shifts in your hands again, grounding you back to reality, and you know you cannot. not tonight.

“another time,” you say, your voice softer now, tinged with a quiet apology you hope they will understand. you brush a hand over tuk's cheek, feeling the warmth of her skin. “i promise.”

you returned as quickly as you could, stepping back into the marui with the scent of roasted fish and fruit clinging to the air. but the moment you walked inside, the food forgotten in your hands, you froze.

neteyam was standing.

his body was trembling slightly, one hand gripping the wall for support, but he was standing, his eyes bright with determination, his grin wide and boyish as he watched your stunned reaction.

“neteyam,” you whispered, barely able to speak, the shock freezing you in place. “what are you doing?”

“we are dancing,” he said simply, his voice soft but firm, as though this was the most natural thing in the world. as though this wasn’t a miracle.

you shook your head, taking a hesitant step forward, torn between wanting to scold him for pushing himself too far and being so overwhelmed with love for him you thought you might burst. “you should not be standing. you—”

but before you could finish, he reached for you, his hand catching yours gently, pulling you closer. “come on. just for a while.”

the music from the festival floated through the air, the soft, distant beat of the drums like a heartbeat, slow and steady. you let him guide you, your hands finding their way to his waist, careful not to press too hard, not to disturb the bandages still wrapped around his middle.

he moved slowly, his steps tentative but deliberate, and you moved with him, letting the rhythm carry you both, swaying gently in the small space of the marui. his breath was warm against your skin, his forehead resting against yours as you danced together, the world outside falling away.

“this is all i need,” he murmured, his voice barely more than a breath. “just you.”

you pressed your face into his neck, inhaling the familiar scent of him, the warmth of his skin against yours. your heart swelled in your chest, the love you felt for him spilling over, too big to contain.

“you are all i need too,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion, your arms tightening around him.

and as the faint music played on, you stayed there, swaying together in the dim light of the marui, the world outside forgotten, everything you needed right here, in this moment, in each other.

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princessisfinethx · 7 months ago

Text

Baby Fever pt. 2

New dad!König x new mom!Reader.

Fluff, post-pregnancy, post-birth, mentions of premature birth. Y'know, a sprinkle of angst. Bit it's all happy domestic stuff. Enjoy.

Your eyes fluttered open and you realize the baby wasn't crying. When you checked your phone, it was 2 in the morning. It was feeding time, so you turned over and climbed out of bed, not realizing it was empty on the other side. You hummed and went to grab one of the bottles out of the warmers, already filled with the formula but found there was no bottle.

You hum, exhausted mind turning over trying to think why you didn't prepare a bottle beforehand. And why your alarm didn't go off. You walk to the baby room and pause, seeing a dim light on, as well as hearing soft muttering. Walking slowly, you peak into the room...

König was standing in the middle of the room, your baby girl cradled in one arm, rather, one hand. His other hand held the bottle up for her. He was rocking and turning, talking to her. He had on his pajama pants, and slippers but no shirt on.

"Mommy's friends didn't like me. I think they were just jealous of her." He smiled down at her, taking the bottle away and setting it down. He throws the towel over his shoulder like you showed him and gently placed the newborn girl up, supporting her head. "C'mon, get those nasty burps out." He rubs her back then gently taps.

"Your mommy challenged me to a game of pool. I've played it a few times but I said yes. And she won, but don't tell mommy, I let her win." He chuckled. "Then she let me buy her a drink or two- ehm, they were soda drinks." He cleared his throat. Then smiled again. There was a soft muffled burp and she spit up. König laughed again and carefully maneuvered the baby and the towel to wipe her mouth clean. "That was a good one. Almost as loud as daddy's eh?"

You stayed leaning against the doorway, listening to König's stories.

"The doctors said you were born too early, and very weak. But I think that just proved those silly doctors wrong. Look at you, burping like a sailor! Oh don't cry meine Blume, I've got you. See?" He cooed softly and you heard the baby whine a little. König hummed softly and you heard him tapping her back, and then he laughed softly. "Did you poop on me? A fart. I knew you'd be more trouble than your mommy."

You couldn't help smile. You heard him go over to the changing table and carefully remove her diaper. You watched from the door as König winced. "You did a number in there. I wouldn't be surprised if you woke mommy up with that stench." He said as he cleaned her bottom. He threw the dirty diaper away and placed a new one on. He throws some powder into the diaper.

"When you came out, and the doctors told us you were a girl, I was so thrilled." He put the pajamas back on, carefully snapping the bottoms closed. "But they said you and mommy needed to stay in the hospital for a little longer. I got so scared for both of you, both of my girls. I ran out and bought your mommy a ring. I know, I should have married her before you came out...I was scared. But when you were born I was even more scared! What could daddy do except wait?" He sighed heavily and placed the baby girl against his chest.

"I didn't know babies could come out so small...you were tiny. They kept you in a little glass machine, I don't remember exactly why but, they said it helped you breathe. Ah but I knew better. They just had to keep you contained because you were a fighter. Ready to knock out the next doctor who told you otherwise." He pressed his lips to against her head and smiled. "And they said momma couldn't breastfeed you. She was sad, she thought she did something wrong but everything turned out just right huh? We're all here." He turned and smiled when he saw you standing at the door. "Ah. You did wake momma with your stinky bottom."

You sighed, some tears in your eyes as you walked over to him. With your daughter in one hand, he used his free hand to cradle your head to his chest. "Oh I'm sorry meine libeling, I didn't mean to make you sad." You shake your head and look up at him.

"No, not sad. Just happy. Happy sad." You shrug and sniffle. He gently ran his fingers through your hair and you spoke again. "How many times are you gonna tell her the hospital stories?"

He smiled and pressed a kiss to your head. "Until she learns to talk and tells me to stop. But maybe I'll tell her before she goes to her first day of school, or her first prom, or when she leaves for college." He takes a deep breath and slowly let it out. You could tell he was trying not to cry. "I wonder how close the colleges are here." You laughed and wiped your eyes.

"Stop talking about her leaving. You're making me more sad." You gently take the baby in your arms and kiss her head, rocking slowly. You felt König's arms encircle your body and his head on top of yours.

"I'm sorry. C'mon, let's get you both back to bed. My girls." His voice was soft, but tired. You nodded in agreement and gently set the girl down into the crib. You made sure she wouldn't fuss, then turned to König. Who then picked you up and carried you to the bedroom. He laid you down, kicked his slippers off and crawled into bed with you. You laid your head against his chest and you felt his hands finding their resting spot against against your thigh and back.

After a second, you mumbled against him. "Don't lie to our baby girl. You lost that pool game because you kept staring at my ass."

He laughed, making your head bounce. "I'm not telling our girl that."

"Then you can tell her you lost fair and square because you were so in love with me." You pressed a kiss to his neck. He leaned down and stole a kiss from you, then laid his head down.

"Maybe. But, maybe I did let you win." He was smiling and you grumbled in disagreement. "Sleep meine libeling. We'll settle this on our next pool game, drinks on me."

"Soda drinks."

A/n.: I'm sad, trapped in a stinky hotel. So I brainstormed this mess while watching Jurassic Park. I made it kinda sad but it's still all fluff. No more baby fever fic after this.

And, I thought about mentioning how reader can't breastfeed because my mom told me she couldn't for me. (For different reasons) But she said some trashy religious people told her if she couldn't breastfeed then she wasn't cut out to be a mom. And I know that today, there are still some people who find that using formula is 'unnatural' or 'cheating'. But I'm here to tell you, some people are literally just gonna try making you feel bad about everything. Do what you feel is the best thing, whether it's for yourself, for your child, for your pet, everything.

That was long. Sorry. Felt like ranting.

#konig mw2 #konig x reader #konig x you #cod mw2 #cod #x reader #fanfic #a03 writer #könig x reader #könig cod #fluff #baby fever

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evillysilly · 8 months ago

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2 | monster under the milkman's bed.

content warning: nsfw (lewd), porn with minimal to no plot, sex on the floor, sub francis (as usual), doppelganger (WITH TENTACLES!) male reader

a/n: my friends helped me out with this big special thanks to them 💜 also shout out to that one person who was the only person that reblogged my first post LOLL

(,,> ᴗ <,,) , (๑/////๑ " ) , (≧ヮ≦) 💕

Francis was starting to think he was having really bad hallucinations, he's been checking under his bed every night, before he goes to sleep, because, he swore he saw tentacles under his bed, peeking out, like it was teasing him. He would also hear growls and grumbles underneath him when he tries to sleep, this was one of the reasons why he's been having lack of sleep.

he was getting more and more on edge, every damn night he would hear those noises, but when he checks, there's always nothing. he hopes to god— if there even is one— that he would finally catch this monster under his bed. he doesn't believe that he's going insane at all, i mean— if doppelgangers exist in this world why wouldn't monsters under beds exist as well?

well, after a few restless nights, Francis finally drifted off to sleep..

but what he didn't expect was a wet dream to happen.

a wet dream, a wet dream about the damn monster under his bed.

it was.. so vivid. the tentacles were teasing him, deliberately stroking his skin, undressing his pants, playing with the bulge that was being covered by his boxers, Francis couldn't help but felt himself harden even more from the touch.. maybe, just maybe, he has a thing for tentacles.

because the next thing he knew after waking up, he sat up on his bed with pearls of sweat trickling down his temple, he felt something weird, something wet underneath on what he's sitting on.

he pulled his blanket off, revealing his sheets wet by his morning glory (or well.. morning wood!), he looks at it in disbelief, breathing heavily. he runs his fingers through his hair, sighing and getting off the bed, he has to get rid of the sheets and wash them now, even when it's in the middle of the night, he just didn't really expect this to happen. it was.. weird. why would he dream of a monster under his bed doing those despicable things to him?

just remembering it made him shudder, he hastily takes the sheets off the mattress, wanting this to get over with. what the poor milkman didn't know, that you were watching him, and you were ready to finally expose yourself to him.

before Francis could even react, you pounced yourself on him, pinning him on the floor, as Francis finally realizes what was going on, he lets out a gasp, looking at you.

you looked human enough, but the only thing that caught him off guard was how you lunged at him, your teeth are razor sharp, and are those.. tentacles?

the. the same tentacles he's been seeing the past few nights? those tentacles are attached to your back. could it be? well, it does make sense. but why? why were you under his bed?

one of your tentacles gripped the milkman's throat, making him choke out another gasp before letting out choked noises.

"be quiet." you sneered at him, your hands were against the floor at either side of Francis' head, leaning close to him. you were so close to him, so fucking close, it was making him slightly dizzy.

as your tentacle loosen its grip on the milkman, you looked down to Francis' crotch, making him squirm under you. you hummed in amusement, looking at the tent in his currently tight boxers.

"what's this?" you tilt your head, one of your tentacles slithering towards it to touch it, making Francis bite his lip, trying his best not to let out a mewl growing in his throat.

you couldn't care less about that at the moment, you were curious with what's up with this human's body, the same tentacle continues rubbing against the bulge as it pulls the boxers down, displaying the hardened cock that Francis has, looks like it was already leaking with pre. interesting.

you never knew that humans can go through such things as this, but it was amusing, it made you wanna go further, your tentacles pulling his boxers all the way down as one of them teasingly places its tip inside the human's hole.

the tentacle on Francis' neck seemed to let go completely, joining in with the other tentacles, you could hear Francis let out a soft moan, his hips bucking, you could feel how desperate the human is, which made you smile even more.

a tentacle wraps itself around Francis' shaft, slowly stroking it as the other tentacle that was placing its tip in him finally plunges inside without any warning, making Francis yelp, his body shivering and his back involuntarily arching to your touch. "mm.. nghn- p- please... mm..." his voice was hoarse and weak, making you smirk even more.

"don't worry, I'm just trying to get used to this." you soothingly said, your strokes slowly increasing its pace, same with the tentacle thrusting in and out of Francis. "mm.. oh- agh- mmn..." those whimpers, it made you crave for more of those noises.

you grit your teeth, another tentacle was shoved inside him, letting another noise out of him, the tentacles inside him immediately found those bundle of nerves that has pleasure hastening for his cock, more pre-cum leaking out of his slit as you thumb it, making him let out a cry even louder.

"you're really cute like this." you utter, continuing your relentless torment on him, you could feel your tentacles hitting the milkman's prostate nonstop, more moans and cries spilling out from him. "'mmn- I- I'mm..!" he couldn't even continue his jumbled of words, for it was cut off by his own cry, his body shaking uncontrollably, his cock shooting ropes of cum all over you and the tentacle that was wrapped around it.

you let out a chuckle at the sight, your tentacles pulling out as the other one was slowly milking him dry, you couldn't help but wanted to taste him, so you did, the cum-coated tentacle going inside your mouth, tasting Francis with a hum.

as Francis watched, he lets out a whine, his chest going up and down, body still shaking as his muscles relaxes a bit. the tentacle pulled away as more showed up behind you, looking at Francis with a cruel smile.

"don't think we're done yet, human."

#francis mosses x male reader #francis mosses x you #francis mosses x reader #milkman x reader #tentacles...#dom male reader #this was supposed to be a smut drabble but i think i made it into a oneshot #smut shot #is that what its called?#zzz... writes

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svndaysaweek · 6 months ago

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Addiction and Poisoning — {Feat. Minnie (& Miyeon)}

1.2k words

A/N: It’s been months since the last time I posted something. This might not be the best I’ve written, but I did write something, nevertheless. I’ve been feeling the need to release something, and @i-am-lifeform24 thankfully gave me a precious opportunity to write something!!! So I’m posting it here too. Check out other fics from the ‘Curated Companions’ also!

*Drug use, choking, bondage, a bit of angst(…?)

******

Once in for all. You head to the bar you’re regular at. Everytime you tip a glass there, you experience a weird dream and when you wake up you’re in your bed, no memories of how you even made it there.

It’s happened several times already. To the point where you start to doubt if it really is a dream.

A charming bartender, nice drinks, and the addictive dream-like scenes you fragmentarily see like a deja-vu.

There are different versions of it, but all follow the same sequence: sit down, empty a glass or two, a little chirpy chit chat with the bartender and the very next blink she’s riding you in a frantic manner.

What haunts you the most is that you lose old memories too. The damage is disturbing, since even at work you don’t remember major events that happened. You really should stop drinking, and you're aware of it more than anyone.

You can’t explain, but you feel like you should just go there again. It’s an addiction, maybe. You know you should stop, but you don’t.

******

The door swings open with the little bells on it quirkily ringing. It’s a dim bar, with the calm noise of people talking and laughing with clinking sounds. Over the counter she’s wiping glasses, not in a tuxedo but in a white sleeveless shirt, long blonde hair over a shoulder and a pair of orbs in her eyes with the aura that a quartz gemstone would exude.

Hot, but not red-hot. Erotic, but not foul.

The very eyes in your dreams that you made roll back.

“Hi, long time! The usual?” Minnie’s grin blooms quickly as if she’s been waiting for you. Then she fixes it the next second, recognizing how unusual it is for a bartender to be as turgidly excited as her.

“I’d love to.” With a bite on her lip she turns around, takes a bottle of whiskey. Then enters a room in the back for a glass.

Your hand automatically takes your phone out of the pocket. You see a message from an unknown number saying ‘Hey we need to talk’, but before you can check Minnie returns with the glass and serves it to you.

“Are you shifting soon? Never seen you in that shirt before,” A sip, and another. The latter is because it tastes rather different. “Ah, this? How do I look?”

Gorgeous!

Gorge-

Gor-

…

******

“Yeah, that’s it…” Minnie’s hands are planted on your chest while her hips are senselessly grinding on your cock. The pace skyrockets and her nails dig into you deeper and deeper.

But dangerously you don’t feel the pain. You can only feel how tight she’s squeezing your cock, how sweaty her thighs are, how hot her breath is and how good she’s fucking you.

“Fuck, it gets better everytime… How can I stop fucking you like this…” Her hands are now in her hair, arms open and messing her own hair a bit.

She squeezes her own breasts before slightly choking you with both hands. You try to reach for her hands, which are cuffed to the bed. Minnie seems to enjoy the surprised look on your face, as her face descends to be just above yours with a pearly giggle.

“Bet Miyeon is all too vanilla to do this stuff to you in bed,” She whispers it right at your left ear before nibbling on it, making you flinch a bit.

“Miyeon? Who is-“

“Never mind, boy. I have only you and you—oh, god I’m close—have only me.” Minnie’s teeth leave a deep mark on your under lip. Her glance is now beyond enrapturing. It’s a poignant hypnosis with a tinge of coercion.

Only when she cums and squirts on your cock with a rather lunatic moan is the bewitching scrutiny alleviated. The sound of heavy breaths and the tickle of her fingers stroking on your chest is all that you can sense.

And you’re sprawled on the bed, exhausted, with your consciousness fading out. “I have only you, Minnie” is what you lethargically repeat until all becomes dark.

******

You have no idea how you ended up on your bed. Again. The last place you remember you were at last night was the bar.

Was it the whiskey after all?

Before you could even get out of your bed a headache swirls inside your head.

I had intense sex with Minnie again in the dream again.

She mentioned someone.

I received a text from someone who wanted to talk with me.

What could all this mean?

All of a sudden, a loud knock on the door shakes you awake from your thoughts.

“Who’s there?” You shout, and you hear a frustrated, urgent female voice.

“Honey, it’s me! Please open the door and let’s talk!” On the other side of the door there’s a woman standing. Anxious, upset and unfamiliar.

“Do I know you?” It’s a genuine question, because you don’t recognize her at all. “Honey, this is not funny. At all. Why the hell have you been ignoring all my-” The girl tries to grab your hand which you swiftly evade.

“Sorry, but what are you talking about?”

You’re gazing at her eyes then you’re forced to shut your eyes because of a headache like being shot in the temple.

“Babe!” Down the hallway is Minnie. You are so confused by her calling you that, but it must’ve been the drink. Should’ve drunk less.

“Babe?! Excuse me, but do you know him? Honey, do you know her?” Miyeon looks shocked, terrified, even. “I do. Why are you asking me that? Who are you?”

Disbelief shades her face. “H-honey… What are you talking about? I’m your fiancé! I’m Miyeon, don't you remember?” At the same time there’s a victorious grin on Minnie’s face.

“Seems the potion worked very well…” Minnie whispers in Miyeon’s ear, quiet enough for it not to make it to your ears.

You’re gazing at her eyes then you’re forced to shut your eyes because of a headache like being shot in the temple. Then all senses fuzz out.

******

“Don’t go too fast, Miyeon! It’s dangerous!” You’re on a bicycle following her, on a riverside road with cherry blossoms fluttering along the breeze. She briefly looks back at you, and the way her hair streams in the wind takes your breath. “You’re saying that because you can’t pass me!” She smiles playfully and speeds up ahead.

“What are you listening to?” She takes one of your earphones after sitting down next to you on the bench. “Just some classics. Autumn is a season of classics for me.” You turn your head in her direction and are stunned at how her look matches the color of the trees and sky ever so perfectly. She can only chuckle at your face.

“Oh my god, sweetheart, yes!” You’re down on one knee, putting a ring on her finger. She’s shedding tears with the happiest smile. “I love you, Miyeon.” You rise and hug her. Your hands are still shaking. Her shoulders shake from her crying.

“I love you too. I have only you. And you have only me.”

******

A/N.2: Check replies!

#kpop x male reader #kpop male reader #minnie smut #gidle smut

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living-dead-author · 8 months ago

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Horror characters reactions to their s/o leaving sexy Polaroids around the house for them

Had this idea for a bit and I finally got around to writing it for y'all. I'm going to try and post regularly but because of everything I have going on right now I might not be able to for a bit.

Characters Included: Bo Sinclair, Lester Sinclair, Peter Strahm, Asa Emory, and Bubba Sawyer

Content Includes: 18+ material do not interact if you are underage, explicit mentions of nude photos taken of reader, implied sex, GN reader, implied male masturbation, masturbating to readers pictures, brief mentions of murder

Bo Sinclair

Coming home after a long day working Bo expected to find you waiting for him like you usually do. But tonight is different. Tonight you're nowhere to be found. But when Bo takes his first step inside he finds a Polaroid at his foot, but not just any Polaroid, it’s a Polaroid of you wearing nothing but your underwear.

Bo walks further into the house and what does he find? More and more Polaroids of you in sexy positions that you know is going to drive him nuts. By the time he gets upstairs he’s straining hard against his pants and he had to undo his belt.

And when Bo finds you after gathering up all of your little Polaroids, you're in for a wild night. He won't even give you a chance to say anything he'll just corner you against somewhere and lay out all of the Polaroids in front of you while whispering in your ear, "Yer a little tease ain't ya? With yer god damn little pictures. Well get ready darlin', I'm just getting started."

Lester Sinclair

When Lester wakes up you're still asleep, and he doesn't like making you wake up as early as he does so he lets you sleep in. But today while he was getting ready he kept finding these sexy Polaroids of you around the house. You in these pretty lingerie pieces, sexy poses, provocative stances.

He obviously gets turned on, but he thinks this might have been for when he got home later in the day. So he puts them all back where he found them and he ignores the throbbing in his pants while he tries to deal with getting ready.

But when he gets in his truck to leave for the day and he pulls down that sun visor, another Polaroid falls down into his lap. This one shows you in a position so utterly sexy to him he has to go back inside and jump into bed with you, waking you up with kisses as he groans about how hard you've made him.

Peter Strahm

After getting home late one night from a grueling week of work Peter is looking forward to having some time to himself. But when he steps inside the house and sees a Polaroid picture of you taped there, he had to get a better look. Of course this Polaroid was of you, dressed up in a sexy outfit, posing in front of a mirror.

Peter swallows hard and uses his detective skills in a much more fun way tonight. He goes around the house, gathering up all the other Polaroids you hid everywhere before spreading them out on the kitchen table of your house. Looking over all of them get's him undeniably hard. Knowing that you're already asleep, he's not going to wake you. So for now Peter takes care of this issue himself, while looking down at your pretty pictures.

After cleaning up he gets into bed with you and cuddles up close against you. Now in the morning when you try and pull away from him, he's not going to let you get away so soon. He needs to have a little talk with you about those Polaroids, he's sure you'll understand.

Asa Emory

Coming back to his town house like any other day, checking the mail and setting it down, going into his office, not expecting anything different. But then he sees a Polaroid sitting on his desk. He doesn't remember taking one. He picks it up and sees you in it, naked and posed in a sexual manner.

Asa knows that there are others hidden around the house, and seeing that you're out at the moment, he's going to find them all, then the camera you used. As he keeps gathering up these Polaroids he keeps getting more and more turned on, especially seeing some of the things you've done to yourself in these pictures.

When you get home he's waiting for you in his office, the Polaroids neatly laid out in a uniform fashion with the camera sitting nearby. "Sit." Is all he's going to tell you for the time being before he has you handle the growing issue you gave him.

Bubba Sawyer

When the two of you finally get to be alone in the house together Bubba expected some sexy activities, but he didn't expect to go around the house finding Polaroids of you in such sexy manners. His eyes get fixated on the Polaroids in his hands as he goes around gathering them all up.

Bubba isn't exactly a spring chicken when it comes to nudity and sex. He sees naked people all the time when he's cutting up victims, but this is different. This gets him excited in an entirely new way.

When he finally finds you he's so wound up from all of the Polaroids you gave him that all he's able to do is pick you up in his huge arms and carry you off into the bedroom to have some fun times in there. Maybe you could try out some new poses for him in there too.

#bo sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #lester sinclair #lester sinclair x reader #peter strahm #peter strahm x reader #asa emory #asa emory x reader #bubba sawyer #bubba saywer x reader #slasher smut

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aliendes · 1 month ago

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SVT Reaction to yelling at you for the first time/saying something hurtful

a/n: *gasp* I'm actually posting something after... checks watch... 4 years?! holyyyyy shit! anyways, this wasn't requested, I've been been brainrotting over SVT and anyone who knows me knows I love the angst. if you want to see more of SVT or have a request, hit up my inbox! i missed writing and tbh this is probably complete shit. I'm just trying to get back into it slowly before I write any behemoths like I used to. anywhooooooooo, here's some angsty AF SVT reactions.

w/c: 5,000~ (this is normal for me, unfortunately)

warnings: angssssst, some name calling (sl*t is used in a derogatory way by one of the boys I'm so sorry), one of the boys gets slapped (he deserves it), and overall just a lot of hurt no comfort. let me know if I missed anything that needs a warning.

let me know if you wanna see a part 2!

Seungcheol (S.coups)

He can be hot-headed and while he can have a sharp tongue sometimes, he doesn’t actually mean the things that he says in the heat of the moment. When he first raised his voice at you to tell you to “Stop acting like a bitch!” he instantly regretted his choice of words. It wasn’t even that big of an argument, you had only asked him to tell you about practice and what was bothering him, but after the long day he had he really didn’t want to rehash the details. When you sighed your third sigh, he just… snapped. The look on your face told him all he needed to know. He’d hurt you with his words and his tone. He watched in real-time as your expression turned from one of annoyance to one of pure hurt. Before the tears started rolling down your cheeks, you turned from him and immediately locked yourself in the bathroom.

“Baby?” He approached the door cautiously like he would an injured animal. And he guessed, you kind of were at this point. He lightly rapped his knuckles on the wooden door. “Baby, I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean that.” His voice was hoarse, he was trying to hold back his emotions so he could fix this. He could hear you sniffling from the other side of the door, but you made no moves to unlock it.

“Go away, Seungcheol.”

He flinched at the use of his full name, he hated when you called him that and you knew it. “Ok, I’ll leave you alone for right now, but please know that I did not mean that. I’m not mad at you, I shouldn’t have raised my voice at you, and I’m not going anywhere. Ok, baby?”

He heard a few more sniffles and a soft “ok”, before planting himself against the wall opposite the bathroom door. He’d wait here however long he needed to.

Jeonghan

Now, Jeonghan can be sassy and snippy, you know this. You are used to this and you know he can sometimes be more passive-aggressive than he means to be. You two typically work very well together and you never let his snarky comments get to you. Besides, he always ends up apologizing for his moods and you two move on.

This time, however, Jeonghan knows he fucked up. It started with him being late for dinner, which isn’t an unusual thing. Practice runs late oftentimes, it can’t be avoided. But tonight was date night and he wasn’t just a few minutes late, he was three hours late. By the time he got home, dinner was cold and you were snoozing on the couch already in your pajamas. Practice had been tough, their choreographer running through the chorus what felt like hundreds of times until they were all moving in synch. He was exhausted, so instead of waking you up or carrying you to bed like he normally would, he set his things down and went straight to wash up.

The sound of running water is what woke you. You wandered into the bathroom to find your boyfriend in the shower. You crossed your arms and leaned against the doorframe. “You didn’t wake me.”

Jeonghan startled a bit, not having heard you enter. “Sorry, lovey. I’m really tired.” You could hear the harshness of his voice and for a moment you felt guilty, but then you remembered he didn’t even text you he would be running late.

“You didn’t call or text. It was date night.”

Jeonghan heaved a long sigh before turning off the shower and wrapping a towel around his waist. “It was a long day, love, please.”

“I know, Jeonghan and I’m sorry, but you know how important these nights are to me. You’re getting ready to leave again and-”

He cut you off, voice rising, “Y/N, just stop. I’m exhausted, and you’re being incredibly clingy right now.”

“What- Jeonghan excuse me?”

“You heard me.” He brushed past you, bumping into your shoulder on his way out of the bathroom.

“Jeonghan! Hey!” You followed after him, not realizing how hot-headed your boyfriend was right now. “You can’t just say shit like that to me!”

“You know what Y/N? I can, now for the love of God, leave me alone!” His voice was louder than you’d ever heard him speak to you before. He was yelling at you. You stood, stunned, in the doorway to your shared bedroom, but Jeonghan wasn’t done. “Either you sleep on the couch or I will, because I don’t want to be around you right now.”

Something inside you snapped, hearing those words from your usually sweet boyfriend. “Don’t bother, Jeonghan. I’ll be at my sister’s.”

You don’t even bother packing a back, just grabbing your purse and phone and leaving, despite only wearing pajamas. Jeonghan followed you out of the bedroom, watching you leave, realizing what he had done as he watched the front door slam behind you. He ran his hands through his still-wet hair, closing his eyes. “Fuck.”

Joshua

Joshua is the biggest sweetheart, so you two don’t fight very often. You have small, petty arguments sometimes, but Joshua is always the first to admit defeat, even if he wasn’t in the wrong, simply because he hates fighting with you that much.

Tonight, though, he was on a different level of mad. Was it justified? Maybe not, but it didn’t stop him from seeing red when he saw you touching your coworker's arm when he pulled up to pick you up from work. One thing Joshua couldn’t stand, was cheaters, having been cheated on in the past. Parking his car, he honked the horn just once to get your attention.

Immediately, you turned and looked at your boyfriend, smiling wide and bright. It almost made him forget why he was upset in the first place. You turned back to your group of coworkers and waved goodbye before jogging over to the passenger door and getting into your boyfriend’s ride.

“How was work?” He asked coldly, not bothering to look at you. “Who was that?”

You looked at Joshua confused, brows furrowing, “Who?”

“That guy you were just all over,” he responded, putting the car into drive and pulling away from the sidewalk, “you know the one you were flirting with?”

You blanched. There’s no way your sweet, loving Joshua was accusing you of something right now. He’s joking, right? “You’re joking, right?”

Joshua finally turned and looked at you, and you could tell by the look in his eye that he was dead serious. “Josh, that’s my coworker, Jihyun. I’ve told you about him before, you know the-”

“Save it, Y/N. I saw the way you were looking at him, and you knew I was coming to pick you up, did you just want to rub it in my face?! Huh?” His voice was louder than you’d ever heard it before. His usually calm, soft demeanor had completely changed and it was starting to scare you, before you could get a word in he continued, “Or do you just act like that with all your coworkers?! Like a slut?”

The dam broke and tears started streaming down your face. “Stop the car.”

“No, you’re going to tell me-”

“STOP the car Josh!” You yelled through tears. It stunned him out of his momentary anger and he blinked at you. “STOP!”

He pulled over to the sidewalk, and before he could even put the car in park you were out the door with your bag, leaving your phone behind in his center console. “Y/N! Wait!”

“Save it, Josh!” You slammed the car door and stalked away, leaving Joshua to stare, too stunned to move, but regretting his words instantly.

Jun

“Please, baby, can we talk about his tomorrow?” Jun sighed into the phone. He was currently laying on his hotel bed, trying to fall asleep but you wouldn’t let him get off the phone. Not that he usually minded, but he was so exhausted from his shoot today that all he wanted was a few hours of sleep before he did it again. “I’m so tired, Y/N.”

“Junhui, this is important!” You whined, trying to go over the schedule for your sister’s wedding next week. He was part of the wedding party, and you were the maid of honor and it really was important that you have the times down for flights and pickups. “I just need to make sure you’re getting in before-”

“Y/N! Please!” Jun yelled into the phone, stunning you into silence. He never yelled, he was usually so calm and collected that his tone shut you up. “Just shut up, please! I can call you tomorrow and we can go over all of this, but right now I need to sleep! You have no idea how long my days are right now and listening you to whine and complain about this stupid wedding is getting on my last nerve!” The moment the words left his mouth, he regretted them. He knows how important this is to you and your family, hell, it’s important to him because he loves you and your family so dearly. He has not idea why he said it, but he can’t take it back now.

He could hear you sniffle on the other end of the phone, but before he could even try and make amends, you cut in, “You know what, Junhui. You’re right. Don’t bother showing up.”

The call ended before Jun could say anything and he immediately tried calling you back, only to be sent to voicemail, over and over again.

“Baby, please. I am so, so sorry. Please pick up. I’ll be on a flight tomorrow after the shoot, I swear to you. Please, Y/N.” His voice broke on his last words and he hung up the phone with tears in his eyes.

Soonyoung

Soonyoung was loud on a good day, so arguments between you two tended to get a little bit heated. That said, they were few and far between and your loving boyfriend never raised his voice at you. Despite this, you’ve heard his anger in the practice room, you just weren’t used to it being directed at you.

“I don’t understand why you always have to be on my back about shit, Y/N!” He boomed across the practice room. You two were the only ones in the large room, the others having left about 20 minutes ago after Soonyoung dismissed them. “Why can’t you just chill the fuck out?!”

You stared at your boyfriend in shock. He had never yelled at you like this before. And over what? You telling him he should take a break?

“Soons, I didn’t mean it like that. I just think-”

“You just think, what?! That I can just drop everything to be with you all the time?! Why are you even here right now? You should be at home, not bothering me at work!”

Tears pricked at your eyes, but you wouldn’t let them fall. Not in here. “I just wanted to bring you and the boys some dinner.” Your voice was small, but Soonyoung didn’t seem to pick up on your near tears, because the yelling continued.

“We don’t need your help, Y/N! I don’t need your help! Just go home.” He spat, turning away from you to start packing up his bags. “I’ll be at the dorm.”

Without saying another word, you turned on your heels and ran out of the practice room and into the maze-like halls of the Hybe building, but not before Soonyoung heard your little gasps for air like you were about to have a full-blown panic attack. His anger completely dissipated at the sound, dropping everything he was doing to stand up and follow after you.

He felt like an idiot. Did he really just blow up on you, his favorite person in the whole universe, over something so silly? He was just stressed, he didn’t mean it, but now he’s hurt you, his entire world. He rushed out of the practice room, but it was too late. You were nowhere to be found, even after he searched up and down the halls, the lobby, and even the roof. Running his hands through his hair, he headed back to grab his bag and keys and started heading back towards your shared apartment. He knew he had a lot to make up for, but he wasn’t sure what state he’d find you in.

Wonwoo

“Y/N just shut the fuck up for once!”

You stood, stunned into silence, in the doorway of your boyfriend's gaming room. Wonwoo opted to ignore your figure to continue playing whatever game he was playing on his computer, headphones still snug over his head.

You had approached him asking if he would get off the games to go out to dinner with you. You’d been asking him all week if you two could go out together since he had the next two weeks off before preparing for his group’s next comeback. He pushed off your requests but you’ve finally had enough and pushed him to come out with you tonight, but boy was that a mistake.

You knew you were starting to get on his nerves, but you didn’t understand why. All you wanted was to spend some time with your boyfriend before we got busy again and you weren’t able to. You felt like the two of you were drifting apart and this just confirmed it. He had never yelled at you like that before, and the fact that he wasn’t even turning around to look at you sealed the deal.

“I’m sorry, Wonwoo.” Your words were soft as you turned around, slamming the door behind you.

Wonwoo sighed again into his mic for the billionth time that night, only this time, Seungcheol on the other end had had enough. “You’re a fucking dick, dude.”

Wonwoo blanched at that, “What do you mean?”

“You just yelled at Y/N and she just apologized?” Did you? He couldn’t hear you over his game. Wonwoo pushed one side of his headphones off so we could listen to you out in the apartment. He heard shuffling around and furrowed his brows. “Dude, go fix it, she’s probably pissed at you.” Wonwoo only nodded, not realizing Seungcheol couldn’t see him, and shut his computer off.

As he walked into your shared bedroom, he saw the tail end of you shoving things into a duffle bag. Shocked, he rushed over to you, reaching out to grab your arm, but you flinched away so hard he was paralyzed with shock. “Do not touch me Jeon Wonwoo!”

Shit. You used his full name, you never did that. “Baby, I-”

“Don’t call me that.” You said coldly, before grabbing your bag and heading for the door. “I’ll be at Sunmi’s.” You threw over your shoulder before walking out the front door and out of Wonwoo’s life. He watched you walk away and for a moment, just stood there dumbstruck, before falling to his knees with tears streaming down his face.

Jihoon

Jihoon could easily get into aggravated or ‘mean’ moods and after being together for so long, you’ve learned when to give him space when he needs it. But when he’s been ignoring you for the better half of the whole week, you’ve had enough.

You knocked on his studio door three times and waited for an answer. Only you didn’t get one. You knocked again, but this time you kept knocking until you heard his grumbles from the other side of the door.

“I’m coming! Jesus, Cheol, can you-”

When Jihoon opened the door to find you, his loving girlfriend of 5 years, his words are cut short. You smile slightly at him and push your way through the entrance of his studio, plopping yourself on his black leather couch.

“Since you don’t want to leave the studio, I decided to come to you.”

Jihoon felt his anger rising. So what if he’s been in his studio and the dorms for the last 6 days? He has a job to do and this album’s due date is next week. He has limited time and not enough hours in the day to complete this. You know this, and yet, here you are to bother him.

“Y/N, go home.” He says cooly while taking a seat at his computer.

“No.” You say simply, a smirk on your face. “I’m here to keep you company until you’re ready to come home.”

“Y/N…” he sighed, running a hand down his face.

“Don’t Y/N me, you can’t stay here cooped up like a hibernating bear. It’s not healthy, Ji.”

“Don’t tell me what to do, Y/N. You know the deadline is coming up, I have to get this done.”

“I understand Ji, but-”

“Do you?” He yells, turning his chair to face your shocked one. “Do you actually understand the pressure I’m under Y/N?! No, you don’t, because all you do all day is sit at home and answer emails and phone calls. You don’t understand how hard I work when all you ever do is lay on the couch!”

Now that hurt. Jihoon knows you work hard, he does. He has been with you since before you finished your Masters in business and before you started working for this huge tech company. He knows that you work on important projects all day and you get stressed with meeting deadlines just like he does. He knows what he’s saying isn’t fair, but he just wants you out of his hair so he can finish these songs.

His studio was silent for a few minutes as you both just sat there staring at eachother. You swallowed hard and Jihoon could tell you were holding your tears back. “I’m sorry, Jihoon, I didn’t realize you felt that way.”

“Wait-” Jihoon stood up and followed you as you rushed towards his studio door, “I didn’t mean-”

“Yes, you did.” He could hear the crack in your voice and his heart broke at the dejected look on your face. “Goodbye, Ji.”

You walked out the door, leaving Jihoon standing in the doorway regretting all the choices he’s made this week leading up to this moment. He wants to chase after you, wants to do something, anything, but the guilt keeps him rooted in place.

Seokmin

Your boyfriend is a literal embodiment of sunshine. He’s happy-go-lucky and positive like no one you’ve ever met before and it’s one of the main reasons you fell for Seokmin. He’s so sweet, and kind, and caring, that you are constantly asking yourself how you got so lucky to be his girlfriend, the one he loves most.

So it’s safe to say that when you hear him yelling from the other room in your shared apartment, you’re pretty shocked. You spring up from your spot on the bed and rush out into the living room to see what he’s yelling about, assuming he found a bug, or something. Only, it wasn’t a bug. Seokmin was standing in the middle of your living room holding his phone out for you to see.

“What the hell is this Y/N?!” His face was turning slightly red and you could tell he was angry. You moved closer to him and furrowed your brows as you read the large text at the top of the article. ‘Y/L/N Y/N leader of popular k-pop girl group is in secret relationship with amateur actor Park Seungmin’ was written across his phone screen with a photo of yourself and some small-time actor you didn’t recognize. “Who is he Y/N?!”

You looked back up at your boyfriend, confusion written all over your face. “Seokmin I have no idea, you know these articles come out all the time-” before you could finish, Seokmin was moving past the couch to push the phone in your face. Feeling defensive you shove at your boyfriend’s chest a little, not enough to actually move him but to get your point across, “Seok! Stop it!”

“No, Y/N, did you think I wouldn’t find out you were fucking this guy?” Seokmin shoved his phone back into his pocket but kept pushing into your space. “Think I wouldn’t figure it out? Is this where you’ve been when you’ve said you were at practice late?” His voice was raising and you were honestly a bit scared of him in the moment. You’ve never seen him so worked up about anything.

“Seok, listen to me-”

“No! You can’t just-” “SEOKMIN!” You screamed just to get him to stop, you didn’t even care if your neighbors heard you. “Stop it! Stop, please!” There were tears running down your face and Seokmin looked devastated, whether it was because he truly believed you cheated or because he was regretting his words, you weren’t sure. “Get out. Please!”

“I, Y/N, I’m so-”

“OUT!” You sobbed, putting your face in your hands.

“Oh - okay, I’ll stay at the dorms, but baby-”

“Just leave Seokmin.”

Mingyu

Your huge puppy dog of a boyfriend was the cuddliest, kindest, big-hearted person you had ever met in your life. Mingyu was so kind and caring and he never, ever raised his voice at you, even when he was upset (which happened sometimes, cause you’re human!).

Which is why it was so startling when you came home to find him hunched over his phone, sitting on the couch, looking like his world was ending. You dropped your bag by the door, not bothering to look where you tossed your phone and keys, and ran over to Mingyu and placed your hands on his knees.

“Baby? What’s wrong, what happened?” You peered up into his large brown eyes that were looking back at you with an anger you’d never seen in them before. The look he was giving you shocked you to the point you removed your hands from his knees as if he burned you. “Babe?”

“You have the nerve to ask me what’s wrong, when YOU are what’s wrong?” He glared daggers at you as he suddenly stood up, making you jump backwards slightly, hitting your back into the glass coffee table. You flinched but stayed still as Mingyu towered over you. He pointed his phone at you showing you a string of texts between him and Soonyoung. “This, this is what is wrong, Y/N!”

Your brows furrowed as you read the text messages, but you couldn’t, for the life of you remember sending them. “Mingyu, I think-”

“What the fuck is this Y/N?!” He screamed, making you jump again and wince as you hit your back for the second time. “Are you fucking him behind my back?!” This time your wince came from the sheer volume of your boyfriend’s voice.

“Gyu, he must be pranking you, please calm down lovey.” Your voice was quiet now, you’ve never seen him like this and it was really starting to scare you. Why would he yell at you without asking questions first? It really stung, worse than the pain you were feeling in your spine.

He scoffed, “You have some nerve coming back here.” With that he stalked off to your shared bedroom and slammed the door, locking it behind him and leaving you there on the floor of your living room, shocked and crying.

You stood up, grabbed your bag, and called Joshua, explaining to him what was going on as you ran out of your apartment building to call a cab and head to your brother’s.

Minghao

Your boyfriend, Minghao, didn’t have a short fuse per se, but he definitely didn’t have the patience of a saint either. But that was fine because he never directed his anger at you. You were the light of his life, his only love, and he let you know that on a daily basis. So when the words “You’re acting fucking crazy right now” came out of his mouth, it absolutely shocked you.

“Hao, what do you mean by that?” You asked him quietly, not quite believing he would say such words to you and mean them. You were having a rough day, no MONTH, and when you got home from work all you could think about was how messy the apartment was. You got straight to work scrubbing and cleaning everything you could see and when Minghao arrived home from practice you asked if he could help you with the refrigerator.

It set off a small argument about him being tired after a long day, but you continued cleaning even when he asked you to stop and have dinner with him. He didn’t understand, you needed to get the apartment clean before you could relax. But to tell you you’re acting crazy? You’ve never heard him say those words before.

“You heard me, Y/N. You need to chill the fuck out! Why are you always like this when you get stressed?! You need to learn how to fucking relax because it’s getting on my nerves!” Minghao yelled into the mostly quiet apartment, the only other sound aside from him was the aircon running in the corner.

“I - I do- don’t…” you stuttered, dropping the sponge you were holding, “I’m s-sorry Hao, I-”

“Don’t, Y/N. Just please leave me alone.” Your usually sweet boyfriend stormed past you and into your bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him.

You took a few deep breaths like Minghao had taught you previously when you’ve had panic attacks, and sunk to the floor, back against the kitchen cabinets. You couldn’t stop the tears now, so you placed your head between your knees and tried fruitlessly to get your breathing to calm down.

Minghao was in the other room, in a similar state after what he just said to you. But all he could do was sit and listen to your sobs while he figured out what exactly was wrong with him that he would be the cause of your hurt like that.

Seungkwan

Living with Boo Seungkwan, one of the sassiest idols in Korea, was bound to lead to spitfire arguments and fights occasionally. You were used to your little spats, always making up by the end of the evening. Seungkwan had a rule, after all - never go to bed upset.

That is why you were so shocked to receive a phone call from your boyfriend right before you got off work.

“Y/N I need you to stay somewhere else tonight.”

“Wait, what?” You were confused, you and Seungkwan had been living together for almost a year now, and he has never asked this of you before. “Where am I supposed to stay?”

“I don’t know, Y/N and frankly I don’t really care right now. I can’t believe you told Seungcheol about our trip.”

Your heart dropped to your feet at the mention of Seungcheol, because yes, you had accidentally let it slip that you and Seungkwan were planning a weekend trip to Jeju to visit his family and have a little getaway before they went on tour. You didn’t think it was a big deal at the time, as Seungkwan hadn’t asked you to keep it a secret or anything, but the look on Seungcheol’s face after you told him told you that Seungkwan most likely never planned on telling him.

“We have a schedule on Saturday and I was planning on skipping it, and you’ve gone and ruined the whole thing.”

“I- I’m so sorry babe, I didn’t realize-”

“Save it, Y/N. I can’t believe you would go blabbing to Cheol of all people! Do you realize what you’ve done? I got chewed out in front of the whole group during practice today!” His voice was rising and your guilt was too. “Just, find someplace to stay tonight, I don’t want to see your face. And maybe this weekend too.” At that, your boyfriend ended the call, leaving you distraught at your desk.

One of your coworkers noticed the tears running down your face and came over to ask if you were alright, and you nodded but said you needed to head home, as something important came up. She understood and let your boss know as you gathered your things and headed down to the subway.

Back at your shared apartment Seungkwan was pacing back in forth in the living room, unbelieving of what he just said to you. Yes, he was rightfully upset, but that didn’t give him the right to ream you like that. You would come home, right? You had to, you had a rule, after all. You never went to bed upset.

But Seungkwan waited up for you all night, calling your phone dozens of times before it eventually turned off. You never walked through the apartment door and now he has no idea where to find you.

Vernon

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

Those were the first words you heard from your boyfriend’s mouth as you walked out of your shared bedroom after getting ready for work.

“What’s the matter, babe?” you asked as you finished tying your hair up.

“Don’t ‘what’s the matter, babe’ me. My fucking lyric sheets!” He held up a stack of papers that looked like they’d been soaking in water all night.

“Oh no, what happened?” You asked, moving towards Vernon with outstretched hands as if you could actually dry the papers for him.

“Oh, I don’t know, why don’t you tell me?! Someone left a glass of water on the table where the cat could knock it over, and guess what?! She did!” He shook at papers in your direction to emphasize his point, splashing you with frigid droplets, and making you flinch. And yes, you did leave your glass of water on the coffee table last night, being too tired to get up and do the dishes, but did he really have the right to blame you?

“Look, Vern, I’m really sorry, but-”

“Don’t even try to say it isn’t your fault because it fucking is!” Your usually quiet and calm boyfriend yelled at you in the middle of your living room. You were honestly so taken aback that you didn’t know what to say to him. Vernon was typically so cool and collected that seeing him red in the face with anger was not something you were prepared for this early in the morning. “I can’t fucking believe you.”

“You know what, Vern, I’m sorry but you don’t get to talk to me like that.” You said in a quiet voice, betraying your confident words. You walked over to the front door and grabbed your jacket and bag before turning around to look at your boyfriend again. “I’ll go to Jihyo’s after work. I’m sorry about your papers.”

Vernon watched you with wide eyes as you exited your apartment, slamming the door behind you. You were right, he shouldn’t have spoken to you like that, but he was just so angry when he came out of your bedroom this morning to find his lyrics ruined. He huffed a sigh before plopping down onto the couch and placing his head in his hands. How was he going to fix this?

Chan

It wasn’t like you to come home so late, but your annoying boss asked you to calculate some projections for next quarter 15 minutes before your clock out time and you couldn’t just tell him no, especially when you’re up for a promotion this month. So you took on the task and ended up working 3 hours of overtime.

You were so caught up in paperwork that you didn’t even think to text Chan, your boyfriend, and let him know you’d be home late. You didn’t think he would mind, but when you sat down on the bus to head home, you checked your phone to find 9 missed calls and dozens of texts. The last few were especially worrisome.

From Channie: do you have any idea how worried i am?!?

From Channie: i swear to god Y/N if you dont call me back

From Channie: where the fuck are you???

From Channie: are you out with that guy, from work?!

From Channie: you know what? Dont bother coming home

You furrowed your brows. Chan never usually reacted like this. You pressed the little green phone icon next to his name in an attempt to soothe whatever he was feeling, only to be met with his voicemail. Instead you tried texting him a few times, but the texts stayed green, never going through. Confused, you pocketed your phone and continued on your ride home.

When you got to your apartment you keyed in your passcode and walked into an almost completely dark apartment.

“Channie?” You called out, setting your bag down on the console table. “Chan, what’s going on?”

All of the sudden your bedroom door bursts open to reveal a slightly tipsy Chan, stumbling towards you. “Where the fuck were you?!” He yelled, slightly slurred.

“Chan - Chan what - are you ok?” You asked, slipping your shoes off and walking towards him with your arms out to steady him.

“Am I ok!? Am I OK!? You’re out with who the fuck knows doing God knows fucking what and I can’t reach you. And you have the balls to ask if I’M OKAY?!” He roared, making you take a few steps back. You’ve never seen him this angry before, and it confused and scared you.

“Chan, my boss asked me to work on some projections, you know how he-”

“Oh fucking save it, Y/N! Just get the fuck out of my face!”

“Chan!” By now, tears were running down your cheeks, you honestly couldn’t believe your sweet and loving boyfriend was saying such cruel things to you right now. “You know I’m up for promotion and - and…”

“And what, Y/N?! You think you can just sleep your way to the top?!”

You swung your hand back and slapped your boyfriend as hard as you could across the face. It seemed to jar him enough that he snapped out of whatever rage he was in. He blinked a few times, sobering up, before he looked at your tear-streaked face, realizing what he had just said.

“Y/N, wait.”

“No, Chan, fuck you!” You screamed, running into your bedroom and slamming the door shut. He deserved that, he thinks.

“Baby, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that,” he knocked on the door a few times before trying the knob, it was locked, “just let me in, please. I’m so sorry, baby, so, so sorry. Let me in and we can talk, I don’t know what came over me, I was just so worried about you.” He was rambling now, but he wasn’t sure what else to do, he knew if he didn’t fix this he was going to lose you.

He could hear your sobs on the other side of the door and it was breaking his heart. He slid down the wall opposite the door, resolute to wait there the entire night until you finally opened the door.

#svt x reader #svt imagines #seventeen #svt angst #seventeen reactions #seventeen x reader

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