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#I’m just sitting here in those feelings
drewharrisonwriter · 2 days
Text
Softer
Status: One Shot, Complete.
Pairings: No Outbreak Joel Miller x Female Reader
Summary: Marriage has been good to Joel—he’s happier, softer, and maybe a little pudgier.
Word Count: 1,592 words
Warnings: Explicit sexual content (18+), dirty talk, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected sex (hehe), mentions of weight gain, body appreciation, strong language
A/N: This fic was written for @beefrobeefcal’s Married Joel Sits on You Challenge! Am I too late for this challenge? 😅 Please forgive me for any mistakes, English is not my first language and it's my first time joining such a challenge, and I utterly enjoyed it. Thank you so much Beefro for this 💖
The prompt was: "Marriage had been good to Joel. His mental health and financial stability had improved, and he seemed overall a happier person. The only drawback seemed to be the effect it had on his waistline."
P.S. Do you enjoy my writing? If so, I’d truly appreciate any support through comments, likes, and reblogs! If you’re able, donations or writing commissions would also mean the world to me as I’m currently managing everything from my phone due to financial constraints. You can donate here or DM me your commission ideas. Thank you so much for your love and support! 💜
Read this on AO3 | Check out my Masterlist
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Joel adjusted his sunglasses, glancing at his reflection in the mirrored elevator walls. It was late afternoon, and they’d just come back up from the beach to their hotel room. He scratched his beard, tugging his shirt down over his belly, feeling the fabric cling just a little too snugly.
Tommy’s teasing echoed in his mind. "You packin’ some extra cargo these days, big brother?" The little shit had poked his side earlier as they lounged by the beach, laughing like it was the funniest thing in the world.
"Asshole," Joel muttered under his breath.
You glanced up at him, curious. "What’s that, honey?"
Joel shook his head, giving you a half-smile. "Nothin’, sweetheart. Just thinkin'." He hooked an arm around your waist, pulling you close as the elevator doors slid open. You walked out together, your hand slipping down to his lower back as you strolled through the quiet hallway.
“Tommy’s words still botherin’ you?” you asked softly, your voice coming off with gentle teasing. You gave his belly a playful squeeze. “He’s full of shit, Joel. I love you like this. Tommy don’t know what he’s talkin’ about.”
Joel grunted in response, though a small smile tugged at his lips. He didn’t say anything as you continued walking, but you could feel the tension in his body slowly easing under your touch.
Once you reached your suite, Joel swiped the keycard, and you both rushed inside, quickly locking the door behind you. You double-checked the lock, raising an eyebrow at him. “You sure you locked it, Joel? You know how those girls are… Wouldn’t put it past Sarah or Ellie to barge in at the wrong moment.”
Joel let out a low chuckle, his hands finding your waist as he pulled you close. “I ain’t paid this much for a vacation just to get interrupted when I’m tryin’ to make another baby with my hot wife,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a gravelly whisper. “Trust me, darlin’. That door ain’t budging.”
A playful grin tugged at your lips as you teased, “Baby, aren’t you a little old for a newborn?”
Joel cut his eyes at you, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You’re real funny, you know that?” He dipped his head, brushing his lips against yours. “Doesn’t matter how old I am. If it were up to me, I’d keep you pregnant all the damn time.”
Your body flushed at his words, the heat between you flaring with the roughness in his tone. “Yeah?” you whispered, your voice thick with need. “You’d keep me pregnant, huh?”
Joel’s hands slid down to your ass, squeezing as he pulled you close. “Damn right. We could start right now if you want,” he growled, kissing the side of your neck. “Or maybe after a couple more vacations like this one.” His lips traveled lower, sucking a mark just beneath your ear.
Your breath caught as you smiled, running your fingers through his hair. “I don’t mind more vacations first,” you teased, your hands wandering down his back as the two of you continued to make out as you made your way toward the bed.
Joel’s large frame practically caged you in as he guided you down onto the plush mattress. You tugged at his shirt, pulling it off as he hovered over you, his body solid and warm. His fingers made quick work of your bikini top, tossing it aside.
As he leaned over you, your hand ghosted over his once-firm stomach. Marriage had been good to Joel. His mental health and financial stability had improved, and he seemed overall a happier person. The only drawback seemed to be the effect it had on his waistline.
“You look so good…” you hummed. 
Joel’s expression softened for a moment, his thumb brushing over your cheek as he kissed you. “You mean I’ve gone fat?” He grinned before leaning in, his lips grazing your ear.
You laughed, cupping his face. “I love it,” you assured him, pulling him in for another kiss, deeper this time.
As you kissed, Joel’s hand slid between your legs, fingers dipping into the wet heat between your thighs. “Goddamn, baby,” he groaned against your mouth, his fingers teasing your entrance before sliding two thick digits inside you, curling them just right.
Your body jerked at the sensation, and you whimpered softly, “Jesus, Joel!” It’s pretty good and scary at the same time that he knows exactly where and where to curl his fingers inside you to hit that soft spot that makes you see stars. 
His fingers worked inside you, while drawing slow circles on your clit with his thumb that had your hips bucking up toward him. “So needy,” he murmured, “But you’re gonna have to wait, sweetheart. Wanna take my time with you.”
You gasped, head falling back against the bed as he worked you over, his free hand holding your hip steady. The rough pad of his thumb brushed over your clit, and the pressure was just enough to send sparks flying through your body. “Fuck, Joel…”
Joel growled, his mouth closing over your breast, his tongue swirling around your nipple before sucking it into his mouth. You moaned at the sensation, your body arching into his touch as his fingers continued their slow, torturous rhythm inside you.
Your hands tangled in his hair, tugging hard as the pleasure built deep in your core. He kissed his way back up to your lips, his beard rough against your skin as he murmured, “You’re gonna cum for me, baby. But not yet.”
His words sent a shiver down your spine, and your body trembled beneath him as he finally pulled his fingers out, leaving you gasping for breath.
“I need you, Joel,” you whimpered, your voice trembling with need. “Please…”
Joel positioned himself between your legs, the head of his cock pressing against your entrance. “You’re gonna take every inch of me, darlin’,” he rasped, his voice thick with lust. “Gonna bury myself so deep inside you, I’ll be the only thing you can feel.”
With one slow, deliberate thrust, Joel buried himself to the hilt, his cock stretching you wide as his blunt tip kissed your cervix. You gasped, your hands flying to his shoulders, clinging to him as he held himself still, giving you a moment to adjust.
“Fuck, baby,” Joel groaned, his forehead pressed against yours as he began to move, each slow thrust hitting deeper than the last. “You feel so good… so fuckin’ tight around me.”
Your nails dug into his shoulders as he picked up the pace, his cock dragging against every nerve inside you, setting your body on fire. “Joel…” you gasped, your voice breathless.
He leaned down, his lips closing over one of your nipples again, swirling his tongue around the hardened peak before sucking hard. The sensation sent a jolt of pleasure straight to your core, and you moaned, your hips rolling up to meet each of his thrusts.
Joel groaned, his hand sliding between your bodies to rub slow circles on your clit. “Cum for me, baby,” he growled, his voice rough and commanding. “Wanna feel you cum all over my cock.”
Your body responded instantly, the tension snapping as your orgasm crashed over you. You cried out, your walls clenching tight around him, your vision going white as a wave of pleasure rippled through you.
Joel’s hips stuttered as you came, and with a deep groan, he buried himself to the hilt one last time, his cock pulsing as he filled you with his release. He collapsed on top of you, both of you panting and trembling from the intensity of it all.
After a few moments, Joel gently rolled off you, still catching his breath as he sat up on the edge of the bed. “Don’t move, darlin’,” he murmured, brushing a kiss to your forehead before disappearing into the bathroom. He returned moments later with a warm, damp towel, gently cleaning you up with tender strokes.
“C’mere,” Joel whispered, tossing the towel aside and pulling you into his arms. You curled up against his chest, his warmth and steady heartbeat lulling you into a blissful daze. He kissed the top of your head, his large hand rubbing slow circles on your back. 
“You okay, sweetheart?”You smiled sleepily, nuzzling into his chest and just humming your reply. 
Joel chuckled, brushing a hand through your hair. “Good thing we locked that door. Last thing I need is Sarah or Ellie walkin’ in while we’re busy.”
You snickered, burying your face into his chest with a soft laugh. “We’ve done a good job avoidin’ that so far.”
Joel sighed contentedly, running his hand along your back. “Yeah, but I swear, if they catch us one day, Tommy’s gonna have a field day. He’s already givin’ me shit about puttin’ on a little weight.”
You laughed harder, resting your chin on his chest as you looked up at him, your hand slowly sliding down to his soft belly. “This pudge’s the proof you’re enjoyin’ yourself, Joel.”
Joel chuckled, his chest rumbling as he pulled you closer. “Hell, maybe you’re right,” he admitted with a smirk. “Can’t say I’m complainin’, though.”
You smiled, pressing a kiss to his chest. “I love you like this. Softer, but still strong.”
Joel squeezed you gently, his voice quieter. “Feels good, don’t it? Finally bein’ able to enjoy things.” 
You could only hum in response. You let sleep take you, safe in the warmth of his arms.
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userchai · 1 day
Text
𝐼 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓂𝓎 𝓉𝑜𝓊𝒸𝒽 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓁𝒾𝒻𝑒 - 18+
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𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘦𝘹 𝘣𝘰𝘺𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸𝘴 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘢 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘴. 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘳𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯’𝘵 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘴𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵…. 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘭𝘵, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘧𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨.
word-count 2.2K
thank you so much for reading feedback is appreciated I love you all dearly! sorry if there are any mistakes! 🖤
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“If you love me right then who knows?”
You knew this was a terrible idea, letting him back in, but when he had shown up at your door, shivering and crying you just couldn’t say no. The soft morning glow of the sun illuminates his face beautifully as you stand at your bedroom door.
His eyelashes flutter as he turns a little in his sleep, the long black curls you’ve always loved are wild and messy. “What are you doing to me Eddie?” You whisper, shaking your head and fighting back tears.
He came to you because he didn’t know where else to go, having moved away from Hawkins years ago. It was hours away and you were only fifteen minutes down the road, so Eddie did what he knew best, he came back to you.
This isn’t the first time he’s shown back up since the two of you split years ago, but for some reason in this moment the air feels different. He looks so peaceful in your bed, he looks like he fits, like this is his home too.
You glance at the calendar above your bed, it’s Sunday. You have nowhere to be but right here with the man that you’re still so in love with, it’s painful.
You slowly make your way over to your bed, gently setting yourself down on it, not wanting to wake him yet. The fight the two of you had gotten into last night when he just showed up was still fresh in your mind.
“You can’t just come right back Eddie! You always do this!” You had screamed, tears streaming down your face as you leaned back against your front door.
The night ended differently than you would’ve expected, Eddie had kissed you, and he didn’t stop kissing. You both knew this would only lead to more hurt down the road but neither of you cared.
You’re so wrapped up in your thoughts that you don’t hear Eddie wake up until his hand gently brushes your arm. “Hey.. you okay baby?” He whispers. ‘Baby’ you wanted to tell him that’s not who you were to him anymore, but you couldn’t.
“I’m alright. Did you sleep okay?” You ask, brushing a piece of his hair away from his face. He nods slowly, sitting up. You both stare at each other for a minute, Eddie’s eyes are puffy with sleep and it only makes him look even more attractive.
You smile timidly, damn him for making you feel every single feeling you’ve been working so hard on pushing down for years. “Good, I was gonna make something to eat if you’re hungry?” You ask, going to stand up before Eddie’s grabbing your hand, pulling you back down.
His dark eyes may as well be looking right through you as he keeps you in place. He’s very obvious, you’ve seen that look a million times before, the only thing Eddie is hungry for at the moment is you.
“Ed, I don’t think that’s such a good idea-” you start off, chewing your lip nervously as he pulls you closer to where he’s leaning back against your headboard. “If anything, let me have you for just one more night, I understand if you want me to leave forever after that. I just need to feel you one more time.”
Your heart is pounding beneath your chest, you knew this wouldn’t be the last time, you knew you wanted him. You needed him. Your body reacts before your mind can make up words to say back to him, you straddle yourself over his lap and gently reach down to hold his face. “I’ve never stopped loving you Eddie Munson.” You whisper.
The prettiest smile breaks out over those pouty lips that you could kiss for hours, “Show me then.” He says back, it’s a challenge. You bite back a laugh at how desperately Eddie’s clinging to you right now. His big hands are gripping onto your hips, you hope they bruise you want to remember this forever.
Eddie can be soft sometimes, even if he doesn’t look like it, and this is definitely one of those times. You could break him, and he would let you. You wanted to wreck him and rebuild him after. He groans lowly beneath you as you slowly circle your hips, grinding down against his lap for just a few seconds before stopping.
“Please don’t stop, I need to feel you.” He almost whimpers out, so pathetic, how much he needs you. You lean down slowly and kiss up the side of his neck, biting down against his jaw hard enough that it draws out a little blood. You wanted pain, you wanted him to feel everything that you’ve felt, you wanted him to know that if he fucks up this time he will never see you again.
“Fuck. You little vixen.” He bites out as you run your hands down his shoulders, you keep them going as you shuffle back off of his lap. “Gonna ruin you, is that what you came here for?” You ask as he bites his lip. He nods quickly, watching you pull your sheets back away from his body. “Oh, how cute baby, look how hard you’ve gotten and all I did was sit in your lap for a minute, admit it, you need me.”
You pull the covers all the way off of him, shuffling down to lay on your stomach in front of him as you run your hand teasingly against his length that’s straining behind his tight boxers. “I-fuck, I need you, I love you, I’m sorry for being such an idiot and leaving before please, even if you don’t want me anymore just use me today, that’s all I want.”
You smile up at him, that’s exactly the answer you wanted. If he thinks he can just come back and instantly win you over he is sorely mistaken, he’s going to work for it. You dig your nails into his skin a little as a hiss breaks its way out of his mouth, before you’re pulling his boxers down. You must be going far too slow for his liking because you swear you hear him start begging as his cock finally slaps back against his stomach.
You’ve missed him so bad, and you’ve missed feeling him inside of you almost more than the relationship you once had shared. Your mouth waters at the sight of his thick length, the head is leaking pre-cum against his stomach as you tap your fingers lazily against his thighs. “Why should I suck you off baby? I don’t know if you deserve my mouth anymore.” He moans loudly, pushing his hands against his eyes before he’s grabbing the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him.
You laugh quietly, he’s so hard it must be hurting by now. “Fuck…. Please I know I don’t deserve it okay? I don’t, but just, please I’ll be so good I’ll do anything to have you again baby.” You lick your lips slowly, before you’re spitting down onto the head. “Fine, but it’s at my pace, don’t you fucking move.” You can hear the air leave his lungs as you slowly wrap one of your hands tightly against him, stroking him slowly and spreading your saliva all over him.
You know just how he likes it, sloppy and loud, you are determined to make sure he remembers this, if today really is the last time. Focusing back on him you lean down and kiss up the side of his cock before you’re at the very top, you flutter your eyelashes up at him as his stomach tenses. He’s so beautiful, you sink your mouth down around him and the most beautiful sound comes out of his throat. Sure, Eddie is a good singer, but the sounds he makes for you have always been better than music.
It only takes a few more minutes of absolutely setting out to ruin Eddie, before his hips are threatening to lift off the bed. You know he wants to fuck your mouth, but you specifically told him not to move, so you pull off of him and slap his thigh. “I thought I said no moving, don’t you wanna be my good boy?” He looks like he’s on the verge of tears as he frantically apologizes, reaching to grip onto you. You can feel him shaking as you sit back up onto your knees.
“Don’t deserve my mouth anymore, you can’t even listen to instructions baby, but I’ll let you have my pussy. The only thing is, you’re not cumming.” Your stomach is already wound tight at the thought of having him inside you again, you waste no time in pulling your panties off and throwing them down onto the floor. Eddie looks like an absolute wreck already, his hair stuck to his face, eyes blown full of lust and love as he looks up at you. “Please just fuck me.” He whispers.
Reaching behind yourself to grab his cock again you rub the tip against yourself over and over, you can feel it pulsing against your hand. You knew how bad he needed to cum but for now things were going to be about you. You tense up as you slowly slide yourself down onto him, he’s so thick it almost hurts. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” He gasps out, his hands gripping the sheets below you as you finally bottom out around him.
You wait a few minutes to adjust before you are lifting yourself back up, the drag of his cock inside of you is addicting and you don’t know if you’ll even last very long. You drop back down again, moaning loudly as every nerve in your body feels like it’s on fire. “Fuck, I’ve missed you baby, please, want you to fill me up when I say you can, need to feel you leaking back out of me for days Eddie.” His hands are all over your body, pulling, gripping, never wanting to let go. The both of you are breathing into each other’s mouths, crying out in pleasure and love.
It’s like nothing had ever happened, you wanted this for life, and you know at this moment he wants it too. He’s barely holding himself together as you bounce on his lap like some sort of angelic nymph. He can’t decide whether he wants to sing filthy praises or spill his heart out about how much he loves you as his cock rubs against that spot in you that sends both of you into a frenzy. “That’s it, fuck Eddie please, oh my god, cum now baby, fill me up, give me all of your love and let me feel it.”
‘Bad idea!’ Your mind was screaming, but your heart and body didn’t care, all the nasty thoughts of how much you hated what he did to you were slowly being stripped away from you. Eddie doesn’t know a lot, but right now he knows he is never letting go of you again. He stops holding back as you tense down around him again, leaning your forehead against his as he runs his hands down your back, gripping onto your ass. The neighbors must be getting a good show with how loud you both are.
You can feel him break beneath you, his body trembling as ‘I love you’ spills out of his lips over and over, your own orgasm washes over you quickly when Eddie bites down on your collar bone, sucking a bruise right into your soft skin. The both of you cling to each other as your highs slowly come down, you feel like you could nap forever with how spent your body is.
Another quiet moan slips past your lips as Eddie lifts you off of him slowly, you can feel his cum leaking out of you and down onto your thighs. “What a beautiful mess you are.” He whispers, leaning over to kiss you on your forehead as tears well up in your eyes. “Eddie?” You ask quietly, your throat hurts from how loud you’d been only moments ago. He doesn’t reply right away, instead he reaches for his Metallica shirt that’s on the floor, slowly pulling it down over your head and helping you put your arms through.
It smells like heaven, it smells like everything you’ve missed. “Yes baby?” He asks. “Please, don’t hurt me again. Don’t let me go.” You feel a tear slip down your cheek before it’s quickly being wiped away by his calloused fingers. “You’re never leaving my sight again, I was such an idiot when we were younger, but I want you, I want us forever.” He leans his forehead against yours as you both sit there in silence, maybe you could work again. Who knows?
The rest of the morning is softer, after you both had a moment to catch your breath Eddie had helped you into a bath, getting in behind you to rub your sore muscles as you laughed quietly while sharing things you’d missed out on since you’d last seen each other. This was easy, it was familiar, it was love. You couldn’t fight back smiling as you watched him standing at your oven, flipping a pancake over in a frying pan and almost dropping it onto the floor.
You knew opening the door for him was potentially opening your heart up to be broken again, but for Eddie you would risk everything, even your heart.
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itneverendshere · 1 day
Note
the first relapse being the most scariest thing you’ve seen. sarah’s even calling you about him like “dads trying to get his doctor on the line just in case he od’s”
added this to what i'd already summarized in this ask!! hope everyone enjoys the angst 😔🫂 it’s a little long (around 7.1k)
death by a thousand cuts - r.c
pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe) warnings: substance abuse.
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Ward’s sitting at the dining table, barely glancing up from his phone when Rafe walks in. His jaw clenches. That look—so cold, so dismissive—always sets something off in him.
“What’s wrong?” Rafe asks, already knowing this isn’t just a normal night.
Ward doesn’t answer right away, just sighs like Rafe being here is another weight on his shoulders. “Your mother called today.”
Rafe freezes.
He doesn’t have to ask which mother. Ward’s new wife has nothing to do with this. His real mom. The one who left.
He tries to stay calm, but he can feel his blood pumping, “What’d she want?”
“She says she wants to see you. You and your sisters.”
Rafe’s eyes narrow, his heart pounding harder now. The audacity of it. She always did this—popped back in when it was convenient for her, like they were just part of her life she could pick up and drop whenever she felt like it.
When was the last time? A couple of years? Before that? It doesn’t matter.
“No. I’m not doing this again.” 
“Rafe—”
“No, I said no.” The anger wells up fast, a familiar burn in his chest. He stands there, fists clenched. “She’s full of shit, dad. She doesn't give a fuck about us. So, no. I’m not seeing her.”
Ward looks up, calm as ever, but there's that edge in his eyes—the one that always makes Rafe feel like a little kid who’s stepped out of line. “You’re overreacting. She’s still your mother.”
“My mother?” He lets out a bitter laugh, but there’s no humor in it. His fists tighten at his sides. “She left. She fucking left us. She’s not my mother. She’s just some lady who couldn’t handle shit.”
Ward stands up now. “Watch your mouth.”
“Watch my mouth?” Rafe barks back, stepping forward, his anger boiling over. “I watched her leave me every time she got bored or freaked out. And you—you didn’t do shit!.You just let it happen. Let her walk out over and over.”
“That’s enough, Rafe.”
But he's not done.
He’s too pissed to think straight. “What? You gonna defend her? You’re the one who let her fuck me up like this! You—”
“Stop blaming everyone else for your problems,” Ward snaps, his voice rising. "Grow up. She left.  And you’re still standing here acting like a child over it.”
Something inside Rafe cracks. His chest tightens like someone’s squeezing the air out of him. "A child? You don't get it. You never got it. She fucked me up. She fucked all of us up, and you're still acting like it's nothing." His mind is spinning, flashing back to all those nights he was too high to breathe, too strung out to care if he woke up the next day. He feels like he’s suffocating, the anger burning too fast. “I’m not doing this again, dad. I’m not.”
Ward’s gaze turns cold. “She’s trying now. That has to count for something.”
“Trying? Trying?!” Rafe grits out, stepping forward. All those years, all those broken promises, all the times he was left wondering what the hell he did wrong to make her leave—and now Ward wants him to sit down like it’s a fucking family reunion. 
“I don’t care what you think about it, Rafe. This isn’t up for discussion. You will see her, and that’s final.”
“No. No fucking way!” He shouts, his voice shaking as he steps closer to Ward, fists clenched. “You can’t make me do this. I’m not going to sit there and pretend like everything’s okay when she’s the reason I turned into the mess I was. And you—” His chest heaves as he fights to find the words, his throat tight. “You’re just as bad as she is.”
Ward’s eyes narrow dangerously, but he continues, “Every time she left, you didn’t do a goddamn thing. You let her walk all over us. You let her leave me, leave us, and you never said a word. You’re a shitty father, just as bad as her."
Ward’s face darkens, a storm brewing behind his eyes. “Don’t you dare talk to me like that.”
“I’ll talk to you however the hell I want,” Rafe fires back, stepping even closer, eyes blazing. “You didn’t stop her. You never protected me. You sat there and watched her fuck me up and then turned around and blamed me for it. Like I was the problem.”
“You were the problem,” Ward snaps, “She didn’t know how to handle you, and neither did I. You were a fucking disaster, Rafe. And that’s on you.”
“No. You two were and are the fucking problem because you can’t let go of her.”
Ward takes a step forward, “This isn’t about you. It’s about your sisters. Sarah wants this. Weezie deserves a chance to know her mother. It’s not all about your issues, Rafe. Grow up.”
“Grow up?” He feels like he’s suffocating, “You think I’m the one who needs to grow up? 
“Enough. You will meet her, or you can leave this house right now.”
All the work he's put in, all the shit he's tried to fix, feels like it’s slipping right through his fingers. He can’t be here. Not like this. He’s out the door before he even knows what he’s doing. That itch beneath his skin is back after years, that’s how much control his parents have over him.
Rafe’s hands are still shaking as he gets into his truck, slamming the door harder than he means to. It feels like he can’t get enough air in his lungs, and his thoughts are spinning, they’re all crashing into each other at once. The fight with his father keeps replaying in his head, louder and louder, until he can’t hear anything else.
He’s gripping the steering wheel so tight his knuckles turn white. His dad’s voice, cold and cutting, telling him he’s the problem. That he’s always been the problem. His hands are shaking worse now, trembling like he’s about to snap, and there’s only one thought pounding through his mind: He can’t go to you like this.
The thought of walking through your door, this messed up, makes him feel sick. You’ve seen him at his worst before, but this… this feels different. He can’t let you see him like this—not the old Rafe. Not the one who almost lost everything.
You don’t need to see that. You don’t deserve it.
He knows where he can go instead. Somewhere he shouldn’t, somewhere he swore he’d never go again. But right now, it feels like the only place that makes sense. His head’s spinning, his body buzzing with leftover adrenaline and anger, and he just needs it to stop.
So, he turns the key in the ignition and drives. It doesn’t take long to get to Barry’s. He knows the back roads by heart, even though it’s been years. He pulls up to the small shack Barry calls home, the lights still on, music thumping faintly from inside. It’s like nothing’s changed. The same rundown place, the same shitty cars parked out front, the same smell of smoke and spilled liquor lingering in the air.
Rafe sits there for a minute, gripping the steering wheel, breathing heavy. He shouldn’t be here. He knows that. 
He climbs out of the truck, shoving his hands into his pockets to keep them from shaking, and heads toward the door. The second he steps inside, the familiar smell of stale beer and weed hits him like a wave, bringing back memories he thought he’d buried.
Barry’s lounging on the couch, a joint hanging from his mouth, lazily flipping through channels on the TV.
“Country Club!”, Barry drawls when he notices him, smirking around the joint. “Now this is a surprise. Didn’t think I’d ever see you walk through that door again. Thought you were all clean now, with your pretty little girlfriend.”
He tenses at the mention of you. But he can’t walk out now. Not after what just happened with Ward. Not when everything inside him feels like it’s about to blow.
“I just need something,” Rafe mutters, avoiding Barry’s eyes, already regretting this but not enough to stop.
Barry raises an eyebrow, amused. “Something, huh? You know, you’ve got a real habit of showing up here when you’re all fucked up.” He laughs, low and mocking. “What’s the matter this time? Daddy issues again?”
His jaw tightens. “Just give me what I want.”
Barry leans back, flicking ash onto the floor. “You sure you wanna go down that road again, man? Thought you were past this shit.”
“I don’t care,” Rafe snaps, his voice low, shaking with frustration and something darker. “You know what I want. Go get it.”
There’s a pause, and for a second, Barry just looks at him, sizing him up. Then, with a shrug, he gets up, disappearing into the back room. Rafe waits, heart pounding in his ears, staring at the floor, trying not to think about what he’s doing. About what this means.
Barry comes back a minute later, a small bag of coke in his hand. He tosses it onto the table in front of Rafe, “Knock yourself out.”
He doesn’t hesitate. He grabs the bag, his fingers already moving on autopilot as he pulls out his wallet and shoves a roll of cash toward Barry. He knows this is stupid, reckless. He knows this is going to hurt you, more than anything else. But ll he wants is to forget. Just for a little while.
His hands stop shaking the second he takes that first line.
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You’re already drained when you step through the front door of the house, kicking off your shoes and throwing your bag onto the couch. The sticky summer air is clinging to your skin, and all you want is a cold shower and to crash in bed. 
The day’s been dragging—work was a shitshow, and all you’ve been thinking about is Rafe. You haven’t heard from him since this morning, which isn’t weird, but there’s been this nagging feeling in your chest, like something’s off.
“Hey,” Monica calls from the kitchen as you grab a glass of water and lean against the counter. She’s scrolling through her phone, half-distracted. Milo’s at kindergarten.
“Hey,” you mumble back. “Everything alright?”
She shrugs, not looking up. “Yeah, mostly.” She pauses, frowning slightly, like she’s trying to piece something together. “I think I saw Rafe’s truck earlier. Over by Barry’s place.”
You blink, trying to process what she just said. “Barry’s?”
“Yeah, you know. The guy who used to sell—Whatever.” Monica shrugs again, more casual than you feel. “I was driving back from work, and I swear it was Rafe’s truck parked outside Barry’s house.”
Your stomach drops. Instantly.
“You’re sure?”
“Looked like his truck,” your sister says, “Thought it was weird. Figured maybe he was helping someone out or something.”
But you know better.
A cold sweat breaks out over your skin. You’ve heard Rafe talk about Barry. Back when things were bad—really bad—he was the one who kept him hooked, who kept pulling him deeper. He told you everything about those years when he was drowning in addication and Barry’s name came up more than once.
And if his truck’s outside Barry’s, you know something’s wrong.
It’s like a pit in your stomach, this gnawing feeling that’s been sitting with you all day. 
“What? Why’s that such a big deal?”
You swallow, trying to keep your voice steady, but it’s impossible. “Rafe doesn’t… he doesn’t go there anymore. He hasn’t in years.”
Monica frowns, finally understanding. “Oh. Shit. You think something’s wrong?”
“I don’t know,” you mutter, already pulling out your phone, fingers wobbly as you open your messages. You scroll through the last few texts from Rafe, but there’s nothing out of the ordinary. Except the silence. He’s usually better at checking in, especially when he knows you’ve had a long day. But today? Nothing.
You stare at your screen, debating if you should call him. But deep down, you already know something’s happened. He wouldn’t go to Barry’s unless things were really bad.
“I’m sure it’s nothing,” your sister offers, but her voice is hesitant, like she’s not sure. “Maybe he was just stopping by. It doesn’t mean—”
But she doesn’t finish, and you don’t need her to. You know what it means. You feel it in your bones. He’s back in that dark place—And he didn’t come to you. He went to Barry instead.
Why didn’t he come to you?
“I need to go,” you say, your voice coming out more panicked than you’d like, but you can’t help it. Your heart’s racing, your mind is spinning, and the only thing you can focus on is Rafe. You’re grabbing your keys off the counter before your sister can even answer.
“Wait, what? Where are you going?” Monica asks, a bit alarmed now, but you don’t have time to explain.
“I need to find Rafe.”
Your sister steps forward, “Is it really that serious? I mean, maybe he’s just—”
“He’s not just anything,” you cut her off, shaking your head. “If he’s at Barry’s, it’s bad.”
Rafe had told you everything about his past—every ugly detail about the years he spent losing himself, the drugs, the fights, the constant mess of it all. He had opened up to you after your first time together. And for the past two years you’d seen him, the real Rafe, the one who tried so damn hard to be better.
And now? He’s slipping. And you weren’t there.
Your mind is racing as you drive. You think about how good things have been with him—how far he’s come. He’s not the guy he used to be. He doesn’t party like he used to, doesn’t need to numb everything with lines of coke or bottles of whiskey.
He told you about his time in rehab, how scared he was of becoming that version of himself again. But something must’ve happened.
Something big. 
Why didn’t he tell you?
The thought is suffocating. You know him—he’s reckless and impulsive sometimes, but he’s been so careful with you, always making sure you never had to see the side of him that scared him the most. He’s opened up about his struggles with anxiety, about how he sometimes still smokes weed to take the edge off, but this… this is different. 
This is worse.
It had to be Ward. He’s has always had this chokehold on him, making him feel like he’s never good enough. And whenever his mom gets brought up—whenever she’s even mentioned—it messes with him in ways you can barely understand. She’s the one person who could make him spiral, and Ward is the one person who could push him over that edge.
You slam your fist against the steering wheel, frustrated.
He’s dealing with this alone, and now he’s gone back to Barry. To coke. To everything that almost killed him before. You pull up to his place, your stomach churning. You can see Rafe’s truck parked haphazardly outside, and your heart skips a beat. He’s here.
He’s here, and he didn’t come to you.
You sit there for a moment, gripping the wheel, trying to calm yourself down, trying to figure out what the hell you’re even going to say when you see him.
You get out of the car and practically run toward Barry’s door. You know this place, know the people who come here and what they’re looking for. You’re pretty sure your dad spent half his life here, when Barry’s dad still ran the business. 
You don’t even knock. You push the door open. Barry’s on the couch, looking up lazily when you walk in, and you see Rafe—sitting in the corner, eyes bloodshot, jaw clenched.
He looks like a ghost.
Barry snickers from the couch, taking a drag from his joint. “Well, well, look who it is. Didn’t think I’d see the two of you here together.”
“Shut the fuck up, Barry,” you snap, glaring at him before turning your full attention to Rafe. “What are you doing here?”
“W-What?”
“Baby, look at you.”
He tries to stand, his movements slow, like his body isn’t responding the way he wants it to. His eyes are bloodshot, unfocused, his pupils blown wide, and he’s swaying slightly, barely able to keep his balance.
“I just... I needed to clear my head,” he mumbles, the words slurring together. His hand goes to his hair, but it’s shaking, and he can’t even look at you. “It’s not—”
“It’s not what?” You feel your heart breaking with every word, the cracks widening as you take in the mess of him, his clothes disheveled, his face pale, his hands twitching.
He stumbles again, trying to step toward you, but he’s so high he can barely stand. “I didn’t want... I didn’t want you to see me like this,” he rasps out, finally meeting your eyes for just a second before looking away. “Didn’t want you to... think I was still... still that guy.”
“You’re not that guy anymore,” you say softly, even though right now, he looks too much like that guy. “But you’re acting like him.”
His head drops, and he looks down at the floor, his shoulders sagging, defeated. “Didn’t know...what else to do.”
“And you didn’t think to come to me?” Your voice breaks on the last word, “You went to Barry instead of me?”
“Hey now—"
“I told you to shut the fuck up,” You almost scream in Barry's face, your chest rising with each breath you take. Rafe can't stand to look you in the eyes right now. He can't see the disappointment.
“You always know what to do. You call me. You come to me. Why would you run here? Why would you go back to this?” You glance at Barry, who’s watching the whole scene with a smirk on his face like he’s enjoying every second of your heartbreak. “You’re better than this. Get in the car. We can talk about this.”
But he shakes his head, his breath shaky. “Can’t… can’t be with you right now.”
“Why?” 
 “Just… too much. Hurts too much.” He looks down, guilt washing over him. “Didn’t want you to see... this.”
“Then get in the car. We can figure this out together.” Your voice cracks, the hurt pouring out.
He hesitates, shaking his head again. “I… can’t.”
It pushes something inside you.
Maybe you’ll regret it later but now it’s all you can think about. If he doesn’t want your help, he doesn’t want you. And if he doesn’t want you right now he doesn’t deserve to want you when he’s better. 
“You can either get in this car and fight with me, or you can stay here. But if you stay—”
“Y-You’ll leave?” He’s looking at you despite the fog in his brain, not sure if he’s hearing you correctly, “Leave me?”
“I didn’t say that—”
“E-everyon leaves right?"
He’s never said anything like that to you before.
“I’m not leaving you, but if you stay here, with him,” you jerk your head in Barry’s direction, “I can’t help you. I can’t pull you out of this if you don’t want to get out.”
You know you can’t fix this for him. He has to make the choice. His eyes dart toward Barry for a second, and Barry just shrugs, clearly not giving a damn about anything but his next hit. 
“I love you, but I can’t watch you destroy yourself.”
For a second, you think maybe you’ve gotten through to him, because his eyes soften behind all that darkness. But then he shakes his head again, looking at the floor like he’s already made his decision.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he mutters, barely audible. “But I don’t know how to stop.”
Your heart breaks a little more at that. “Yes you do, baby. You do. You just need to believe it.”
If he doesn’t come with you, you’re not sure where this ends for him. He’s stuck, frozen in place, trapped by whatever’s going on in his head, and you realize that no matter how much you love him, no matter how much you want to save him, you can’t force him to choose you. You can’t make him get in the car.
“You have to decide,” you say quietly, voice breaking. “Me or this. You can’t have both.”
Rafe looks up at you, eyes glossy, and for a second, you think he might actually say something — something that will make this all okay, something that will bring him back to you. But he doesn’t. He just stands there, torn apart by his demons, his lips pressed into a line. You feel the pit in your stomach grow deeper.
“Okay,” you nod, barely holding back tears. “I guess that’s my answer.”
You turn and walk out the door, your heart shattering with every inch of distance you put between you and him. You don't look back, because if you do, you know you’ll drag him out yourself, and you can’t do that. Not now. But as you get into your car and grip the steering wheel with your entire strength, the sobs come anyway.
You don’t want to leave him. God, you don’t want to. But he didn’t choose you. Not this time.
Rafe doesn’t even register the sound of the door slamming behind you. It’s like he’s watching everything happen from somewhere far away, his body numb, his mind completely blank. You said something, you were upset—he knows that much—but the words never really hit him. They just floated around. He sinks back down into the chair, staring at the floor, heart racing but completely detached. The room is spinning a little, his chest tight, but he can’t feel anything. Can’t let himself feel anything. It’s better this way. Safer.
You left.
He knows that happened, but it doesn’t mean anything right now. He can’t process it. Not in this state. Not when the drugs are still in his system, making everything feel like it’s underwater. He blinks a few times, trying to get his brain to catch up, but it’s not working. It’s just static.
Barry’s voice is somewhere in the background, laughing about something, but he doesn’t hear him either. It’s like the world’s on mute. His body’s still buzzing from the high, fingers twitching, muscles tense, but inside? Inside he’s empty.
Hours pass, maybe. Time doesn’t exist here, not when he’s this far gone. The light changes through the window, but it could be minutes or days for all he knows. He drifts in and out, his head heavy, eyes closing, but sleep never comes. Just darkness. Maybe he did too many lines.
At some point, he wakes up—if you can call it that. His body feels like it weights two hundred pounds, his head is spinning, his mouth dry and sour. He blinks against the light, his vision blurry, trying to figure out where the hell he is. 
It takes a second for everything to catch up. To realize he’s at Barry’s.
And then, it hits him all at once. You.
You were here. You were mad. And then you were gone.
His chest tightens, a sick, sinking feeling crawling up his throat. He sits up too fast, his head swimming. Fuck.He rubs his hands over his face, trying to calm his breathing. His thoughts are still sluggish. You left. You walked out, and he… he didn’t stop you. Didn’t even try.
Why didn’t he stop you?
Before he can think too much about it, Barry saunters in, a smug grin on his face, holding a beer in one hand, a joint in the other. He takes one look at Rafe, slouched and disoriented, and lets out a low, mocking laugh.
“Well, well, well,” Barry drawls, leaning against the doorframe, clearly enjoying every second of this. “Look who’s finally awake. You done fucked it up, Country Club.”
Rafe doesn’t say anything. Can’t.
Barry raises an eyebrow, taking a drag from the joint, shaking his head. “Damn, man. Thought you were smarter than that.”
Rafe just stares at the floor, his stomach twisting. He can’t remember exactly what he said to you. But the look on your face… he can’t forget that. The disappointment. The hurt.
Barry chuckles, settling down on the couch across from him. “What was it? You running your mouth again, or did she just get tired of you being a fuckup?”
The shame is settling in now, creeping up his spine. He doesn’t want to hear this. Doesn’t want to hear anything. But Barry just keeps going, like he’s enjoying watching him fall apart.
“Should’ve seen it coming, man,” Barry continues, “Girl like that? She was bound to leave eventually.”
If he felt strong enough he would’ve punched that joint out of his mouth, his teeth following next. Who the fuck did he think he was to talk about you like he knew you.
He knows Barry’s just trying to get under his skin, but it’s working. He feels sick. He presses his hands against his eyes, trying to push it all away, but it’s no use.
“You done fucked it up, Country Club,” Barry repeats, leaning back with a satisfied smirk. “And now you’re right back here. Same old Rafe.”
Same old Rafe. He told himself he’d never end up here again. He swore he was done with this. Done with Barry, done with the drugs, done with the guy he used to be.
But now? Now he’s right back where he started. And the worst part? He let you see it. He doesn’t know how to fix this. Doesn’t know if he even can fix this. But the one thing he does know? He should’ve crawled after you.
Rafe doesn’t say a word.
He doesn’t need to. His hands are already moving, reaching for the small bag of coke on the table. His fingers tremble as they close around it, the weight of the plastic barely registering in his hand. 
Barry watches him, that same smug grin never leaving his face, taking another drag of his joint, exhaling a cloud of smoke with a low chuckle. He’s not surprised. Not at all.
"Of course," Barry mutters, shaking his head in amusement. “Of course, you're takin’ that shit with you.”
Rafe’s jaw clenches, but he doesn’t fight him. He can feel Barry’s eyes on him, feel the judgment radiating off him, but he can’t bring himself to care. Not anymore. 
Not after everything he’s already fucked up. He stuffs the bag in his jacket pocket, standing up on shaky legs, the room still spinning a little as he stumbles toward the door. His mind is on autopilot, moving without him, as if the drugs are the only thing holding him together. 
"Attaboy, Country Club," Barry calls after him, voice dripping with condescension, laughter bubbling up from deep in his chest. “Just keep runnin’. That’s what you’re good at, right?”
Rafe’s hand tightens on the doorknob, his teeth grinding together, but he doesn’t turn back. He can’t look at Barry—he can’t look at any of this—so he does what he always does.
He walks away. He doesn’t think. He just keeps moving, out of the door, out into the night, the bag burning a hole in his pocket.
It’s been two weeks since you last saw Rafe.
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Two weeks of silence, of unanswered calls and texts that sit there on your screen and make you cry every time you look at them. You told him you’d leave, but you didn’t mean it. You never meant it.
You just needed him to fight. For himself. But he didn’t.
And now, you can’t stop thinking about him. It physically hurts.
Every morning you wake up with this heavy impossible ache in your chest, and it only gets worse as the day goes on. You keep wondering where he is, if he’s okay, if he’s even thinking about you or if he’s too far gone to care.
You miss him. God, you miss him.
Now you don’t even know where he is. If he’s still spiraling or if he’s hit rock bottom.
You’ve barely been able to keep it together at work. Every time you try to focus, that image of Rafe in his absolute worst slips in, and you never get anything done. You’ve called in sick twice, just to stay in bed and cry, because you can barely breathe.
You’ve reached out to Sarah a few times, trying to understand what’s going on, but she doesn’t know much either. "He’s off the grid," she’d told you last time, "Doesn’t want to talk to anyone."
That was a week ago.
And now you’re sitting on the edge of your bed, staring at your phone, debating if you should try one more time. One more call. One more text.
Because this can’t possibly end this way. 
He’s the love of your life. 
Sarah’s name flashes on the screen, and you nearly drop the damn thing. “Sarah?”
“Hey,” You can hear it immediately—something’s wrong. “Are you home right now?”
Your stomach drops, “Yeah. Why? What’s going on?”
You can hear her take a shaky breath. “It’s Rafe. He’s, shit, it’s bad. Like, really bad.”
 “What do you mean, bad? Sarah, what happened?”
“Dad’s trying to get his doctor on the line,” she says, her voice cracking. “Just in case he ODs.”
Your blood turns ice cold.
“He’s not picking up,” she continues, her words spilling out in a rush, like she’s trying to keep herself from breaking down. “Dad’s freaking out, and Rafe—he’s not making sense. He’s been on a bender for days, and now he’s just... he’s not there. I don’t know what to do. I thought maybe you could—”
“I’m coming,” you say, cutting her off, already standing, your body moving on autopilot.
You hang up before she can say anything else, grabbing your keys and rushing out the door. The drive to Tannyhill  feels like it takes forever as your mind comes up with worst-case scenarios. You’ve seen Rafe struggle before—you’ve seen the dark places he’s been—but if Sarah’s calling you, if Ward’s getting a doctor involved….
You barely notice you’ve already parked the car, barely notice the front door swinging open as you run inside. The house is quiet, too quiet.
Sarah’s standing by the staircase, her eyes red and puffy. She doesn’t say anything, just nods toward the living room.
And that’s when you see him.
He’s slumped on the couch, his body limp, his eyes half-open but glazed over, like he’s not even seeing what’s in front of him. His skin is pale, clammy, his hands twitching every few seconds, and there’s a sheen of sweat on his forehead. He looks like half a version of himself, his breathing shallow and uneven.
Ward’s pacing the room, his phone pressed to his ear. “I don’t care if he’s busy, get him here now. He’s going to fucking die.”
“Rafe?” you call, stepping toward him. But he doesn’t react. Doesn’t even flinch. He just stares ahead, eyes unfocused, like he’s not even aware you’re there.
Sarah’s standing behind you now, her voice low, “He won’t talk to us. He’s too far gone.”
You sink down beside him, your heart breaking at the sight of him like this. You reach out, hesitating for a second before gently placing your hand on his arm.
“Rafe,” your voice wavers. “Baby, it’s me. Please… please talk to me.”
But there’s nothing. Just silence.
His head lolls to the side, and his eyes meet yours—but it’s like looking at a ghost. The person you know, the person you love, isn’t there. Not right now. Not in this moment. And it kills you.
You keep whispering his name, pleading for him to wake up, to do something, but nothing works.
Ward's still on the phone, pacing like a caged animal, his voice a angry hum in the background. His eyes flick over to you every few minutes, but he doesn’t say anything. Sarah’s standing off to the side, her arms wrapped around herself, her eyes red and puffy from crying. You can see how scared she is, and you’re glad they got Weezie out of the house before she could see this. 
After what feels like an eternity, the front door bursts open, and a doctor rushes in, followed by a paramedic with a bag of medical equipment. The doctor, some guy Ward must have on speed dial for situations like this, doesn’t waste any time. He kneels down beside Rafe, checking his pulse, his pupils, his breathing.
“This is bad,” the doctor mutters, shaking his head. “He’s lucky he’s still breathing.”
Lucky. 
The paramedic moves in, setting up an oxygen mask, checking Rafe’s vitals, and it feels like the room is spinning. You try to stay calm, try to keep your hand on Rafe.
Ward finally hangs up the phone and stands there, watching as the doctor works. “Is he gonna be okay?” he asks, his voice strained because god forbid he shows more emotion.
The doctor glances up, his expression grim. “We need to take him in. I’m stabilizing him, but if this had gone on any longer, we’d be having a different conversation right now.”
You feel like you're going to be sick.
The paramedic starts prepping him for transport, and you stand there, helpless, watching as they move him onto a stretcher. His body looks so limp, so fragile. They’re talking about taking him to the hospital for observation, but all you can hear is the blood pounding in your ears.
Ward steps forward, he watches his son being carried away. For the first time, you see it—real fear in his eyes. 
“I should’ve seen this coming,” Ward says, his voice shaking. “I should’ve stopped it. This is my fault.”
You feel something snap inside of you.  “I’m sure it fucking is.”
He doesn’t say anything. He just stands there like a fucking idiot. Sarah is beside you now, her hand on your arm, gently pulling you back. “Let’s go,” she mutters,“We should go with him.”
You nod, swallowing as you follow her out of the house, leaving Ward standing there alone.
You climb into your car, Sarah beside you, and you both sit there for a moment in silence, watching as the ambulance pulls away, taking Rafe with it.
“I’m scared,” Sarah admits. 
You close your eyes, and nod. “So am I.”
You have to remind yourself to breathe. She sits beside you, staring straight ahead and neither of you says another word.
The hospital is quiet when you arrive, eerily so. You both rush in, Sarah at your side, searching for the emergency room and after a bunch of paperwork and hurried conversations, you’re finally led to the waiting room. The doctor said they’d keep you updated, and you sit down on those stiff, uncomfortable chairs, the waiting begins.
Minutes drag by like hours. You try to text or scroll through your phone, anything to distract yourself, but you can’t focus. Every time you close your eyes, all you can see is Rafe. It’s like your brain is stuck on replay, and you can’t shut it off. Sarah’s over there biting her lip until it’s bleeding. Every now and then, she looks at you, like she’s about to say something, but then she doesn’t. And you don’t either. You can’t. What the hell would you even say? It feels like you’re both waiting for the worst possible news and just pretending you’re not.
After what feels like forever, the doctor finally comes through the doors, and Sarah and you jump up at the same time. 
The doctor sighs, and he looks tired, like this isn’t the first time he’s delivered news like this today.
“We stabilized him,” he says, “He was really close to an overdose, but we got to him in time. He’s still unconscious, but his vitals are stable for now. We’ll keep him under observation for at least 24 hours.”
You finally take a deep breath, but it’s shaky, and it doesn’t feel real. 
Sarah doesn’t even hesitate. The second the doctor says Rafe’s stable, she’s heading towards his room, like she needs to see him, to make sure for herself that he’s really still here. You don’t follow her, though. Your legs feel like they’re made of concrete, if you move, you’ll just collapse right there in the hallway.
As much as you want to be with him, to hold his hand or just… see him breathing, you know you can’t handle it. Not right now. You’ve spent the last two weeks trying to hold it together, and this is the first time you feel like you can finally breathe. Like you’re not suffocating with worry.
What you need more than anything is to get out of here. To just breathe, to close your eyes for more than a minute without the image of him passed out, strung out, burned into your brain. You need sleep. You need to feel something other than panic. He’s gonna be okay. Maybe not perfect, maybe not healed, but for now, he’s alive. 
The next day, you finally gather the courage to see him. You feel like you might throw up at any second. You stop outside his room, staring at the door for what feels like forever, trying to convince yourself to go inside.
He’s lying in bed, looking like he barely walked out of this one alive, but he’s awake. His eyes meet yours the second you step inside, and you feel like you’re going to start crying at any given second. 
“Hey,” You manage to say, You don’t trust your voice to be strong enough to say something more.
Rafe blinks, like he’s surprised to see you. His voice is rough when he speaks, cracked from everything his body’s been through. “You came.”
“Of course I did,” He’s genuinely shocked. As if he thought you’d just walk away from all of this. From him. You swallow hard, taking a step closer to the bed. “Of course I came, Rafe.” Your voice is soft, barely holding together. “Where else would I be?”
He doesn’t answer. His eyes flicker away from yours, settling on the IV in his arm, like he can’t stand to look at you. 
“Sarah called me. She was scared. She didn’t know what to do.”
Rafe’s jaw tightens, but he still won’t meet your eyes. “She shouldn’t have,” he mutters, his voice hoarse, barely there.
“She shouldn’t have had to, Rafe. You scared the shit out of her—out of everyone. And I’ve been sitting here for two weeks, waiting for you to say something, anything, and you just—” You stop yourself, your throat closing up, and you bite your lip to keep from crying. “You almost died.”
You can see his chest rising and falling slowly, and for a split second, you think he’s not going to answer at all. That he’s just going to keep shutting you out. 
“I didn’t want you to see me like this,” he says quietly. “I didn’t want you to see how fucked up I am.”
Your heart breaks all over again because you’ve already seen it. You’ve seen every part of him—the good, the bad, the absolute worst. And you’re still here. You’re still standing in this stupid hospital room because you love him. He shakes his head, his hands gripping the edge of the blanket like he’s trying to hold himself together.
“I don’t deserve you.”
You step closer to the bed, sitting down carefully on the edge, and for the first time in weeks, you feel like you can breathe. Just a little bit.
“Don’t say that,” you reach for his hand. He flinches at first but doesn’t pull away when you lace your fingers with his. “You’re gonna be okay. We’ll get through this. But you can’t keep pushing me away. I need you to let me help you.”
He closes his eyes, his face twisting in pain, “Ward wanted us to meet mom and I just—”
You’ve never fully understood what his mom meant to him, or maybe what losing her did to him, now you do. That deep-rooted pain that always seems to haunt him when he talks about her is stronger than you’ve ever seen before. 
“I didn’t want you to see this mess. I don’t want anyone to. I’m a fucking disaster. Every time I try to fix something, I just make it worse. I just—” He breaks off, his jaw clenching like he’s trying to swallow down the rest of his words, the ones he can’t say out loud.
“You spent years sober, that’s not easy,” You scoot closer, wrapping your arms around him carefully, not caring if he feels like a mess or if you’re being too much. You just want him to feel like he’s not alone. “Baby, I know you’re hurting,” you murmur into his shoulder, “But I’m not going anywhere.”
“You should,” He confesses, “I hurt you.”
“You have,” you admit, “But that doesn’t mean I’m leaving. I’m not gonna give up on you.”
He looks away, like he doesn’t believe you, like he’s waiting for you to just walk out of that hospital room and never look back. But you don’t.
You tighten your grip on his hand, "You don’t get to decide that for me.  I’m still here because I love you. Even when you push me away.”
“You shouldn’t love me,” he whispers, like it’s some kind of fact, like it’s already been decided.
You shake your head, leaning in closer, your hand resting on his cheek. “But I do, Rafe. I always will. Even when you don’t think you deserve it, we’ll figure it out, together, okay? One step at a time.”
He nods, barely, but it's something. It’s a start.
297 notes · View notes
blimpintime · 1 day
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cursed : azriel x reader
in which azriel has a crush on a witch, and thinks she cursed him.
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warnings: none (unedited)
word count: 1.4k
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“She’s quite the character huh?” Cassian says to Azriel, staring at you. He grunts in response wondering why you are currently in a handstand competition with a couple of kids in the middle of town. Kind of in awe how your little black dress didn't fall down to your face with you being upside down, but that's a perk of being a witch, he thinks. 
As if you heard them talking about you, your gaze finds theirs. You grin and then lose balance and gracefully fall out of the handstand. It being the last day of summer did make it a cool one but still having been outside with a summer camp of kids you were quite dewy with sweat. Your face was flushed and damp as you made your way towards the two men. 
“Hi Cassian!” You say with a grin, you turn and look at Azriel, your smile falling into a smaller one. “Spymaster.” You nod. Cassian lets a chuckle slip through at Az’s blank face. You were always like this with him. He never fully understood why. You kept him at a distance always but managed to be involved in every one else’s business. He often thought it was because you could not stand him. And then he thought you were terrified of him, because let’s face it, that was more believable.
You were making small talk with Cassian when Azriel started to get lost in his mind thinking of you and how it seemed you teased him on occasion. With your little quips here and there. Constantly smelling like those fresh baked chocolate-chip muffins that were his guilty pleasure to eat when he got back from long missions
He noticed eventually that Cassian had walked away from you two when a group of kids started playing tag with him. He turned to look at you where you decided to sit on the grass, he made a quick decision to sit next to you. Both of you were silent, but for once it was comfortable.
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The path leading up to your small little house on the bank of the Sidra was always well lit at night. Glowing with purple and orange lanterns their reflection makes it seem brighter than it was that night. Your house was on the smaller side (still fairly large all considering.) But you loved to host seasonal parties due to them being in connection with your magic and since summer was ending and fall was starting, it was the perfect time to throw one of your celebrations. 
Currently the Inner Circle is in your living room drinking and eating food you have made for them. Your familiar, Silly the tabby cat, has made their home on Azriel’s lap. He doesn’t seem to mind though. Gently petting the cat's soft fur. You stare at them from the kitchen with a soft smile on your face. 
“You could just tell him you know.” Nesta says from behind you, scaring the absolute shit out of you. You place a hand over your chest and let out a deep breath. “Nesta, I’m going to put a bell on you.” She laughs lightly as you scrunch up your nose. 
“I am not joking though.” She says softly, and you look back at him now playing with Silly on the couch. “He can’t even stand to be in the same room as me for more than ten minutes. There is no way I could tell him how I feel.” She hums in response. 
“I think you’d be surprised.” And then she walks back out to sit with Cassian. You did deeply care about Azriel, borderline loved him. You felt connected to him in a way you couldn’t describe, just that your soul was at peace with him. Your magic proved that theory too. It sometimes appears to you in colorful hazes around people. 
Every color had a different meaning, the majority of the Inner Circle had a warm orange around them. Your magic had to be newer or just not have a written history because there is barely any research on what these colors mean.  However, you chalked it up to orange meaning some of the most important people in your life. Azriel though, he had a beautiful blue humming around him almost constantly for you, and you had no idea what that meant.
You must have been lost in thought for a while because the next person to scare you was Rhys with Nyx on his hip. He was building another plate for Feyre and Nyx to pick off of. 
“You okay?” He asked you softly. Nyx’s grubby hands reaching for the fresh food on the plate, you and Rhys both grin at that. You nod your head in response to his earlier question. 
“Maybe ask him to hang out with you?” He says, like it's that easy. You shake your head, “I don’t know about that.” 
“Well, it doesn’t hurt to try.” You watch him leave the kitchen and decide it's time to do the same. 
You follow Rhys back into your living space, where it's warm of laughter and love. You sit down on the only open seat, which happens to be on the couch next to Azriel. Silly runs over to your lap and demands petting. You look down at the orange cat with love and when you look back up you meet Azriel’s puzzled stare.
“What?” You ask him softly, nudging the cat off your lap gently. You turn to fully face him when he abruptly stands up. He grabs your arm and pulls you towards the outside. 
“We will be back.” He says gruffly towards everybody, dragging you along.
“Please for the love of Mother, take your time.” Cassian says with a cheeky grin, “We have bets placed.” to which earns him a vulgar gesture from both you and Azriel.
When you go outside he drags you closer to the river and further from the house. Probably to avoid prying ears and eyes, but with everyone’s magic you go ahead and place a sound proofing spell over the two of you.
“Is everything alright Azriel?” You ask him after a moment of silence. He turns back around to look at you with something close to… fear?  
“So, what is it?” You look at him deadpanned and tilt your head in confusion.
“What spell did you place on me? Why, when I go to sleep I think about how I hope you had a good day. When I wake up I wonder if you actually ate breakfast and not forgetting after you have your morning coffee. And tonight, I wonder where you go when this party is mainly in celebration for you and I am busy playing with your cat and not with you.” He gets out in one breath. I stare at him for a moment and when I open my mouth he interrupts me again,
“Why is it when you are near my hands shake less and my worries ease but when you are gone I crave your scent. What curse? What spell?” Azriel genuinely looks shaken for a moment, and for a second so do you. 
“I didn’t know you felt that way too, Azriel.” You say and approach him with a soft smile. When you guys finally make eye contact though something inside you both, snaps. Your eyes widen and so do his. Mate.
You let out a little giggle that eventually turns into a full laugh. “You thought I cursed you?” You say through giggles, “I thought you hated me Az.” 
“Ah, well that goes both ways.” He responded with a smile. You look at him in confusion. “I could never hate you.”
“You couldn’t stand to be near me.” He quips back.
“No. You couldn’t stand to be near me.” You say and jokingly sniff at him. He shakes his head and grins. “We are both stupid.” You nod your head in agreement. 
“A couple of stupid mates, huh.” You look up at him, now leaning shoulder to shoulder. 
“Yeah something like that.” And then he kisses you. 
Warm lips slotting over yours softly, you both start getting a little more heated with each other. Hands finding their way into your hair while yours go around his neck. His lips softly biting yours and then pulling away. You arch and reach up on your tiptoes in a feat of chasing his lips. He grins at you, puts his hands on your cheeks and kisses your nose. 
“Let’s go back inside.” He whispers and leans back, as if he’s afraid that this will all be a dream if one of you speaks too loudly.
“I am kicking everyone out the minute we get back inside.” You whisper back and kiss his collar bone. 
“That sounds great to me.” he says and with that you both walk back to your house holding hands. 
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a/n: so this was completely self indulgent, I wanted a cozy azriel fic!
please tell me what you think!
I don't own any characters that sarah j. mass created.
286 notes · View notes
yeostinys · 3 days
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My Dear Darling
Chapter 1
Pairing: Frat OT8!ATEEZ x Female Reader
Genre: Eventual Smut 18+, Fluff, Angst, Polyamorous Relationship!
Notes: NonIdol!AU, CollegeAU. Alcohol consumption, mentions of smoking, Explicit language. Polyamorous Relationship, (if you are not into that just pls ignore).
Word Count: 3.4k
Synopsis: It’s your last year in university and everything seems normal until one night at a party you are approached by a fraternity that seems like they are up to no good.
Author’s note: This is pure imagination and in no way depicts any characters in real life. If you do not like this type of content please ignore :)
——————————————
Jia: “Are you coming over later?”
Y/N: “I’m not sure. I’m kind of partied out”
Jia: “Oh please Y/N . you flaked on the last 2 parties i mentioned!”
Y/N: “You make me sound like a bore Jia.”
Jia: “That’s not what i’m trying to say!! You have been locked up in your apartment and the library forever! are you punishing yourself?”
Y/N: “It’s our last year in University Jia! I want to preform well on exams!”
Jia: “Y/N, you are literally one of the top students in our university. You’ve been doing well! Now, as my best friend it’s your duty to come to MY party, that IM hosting. Pleaseeee for meeeee”
Y/N: “ughhhh fine i’ll be there”
Jia: “YAYY! I’LL SEE YOU LATER!”
-
Arriving at Jia’s , you are greeted with hugs from familiar faces around campus.
“Y/N~! You’re hereeeee!” Jia exclaims as she hands you a hard seltzer, she already seems a few shots away from being drunk. You laugh at your friend and take the drink in your hands.
“Alright everyone! Three gulps! Thank you all for coming!!” Jia screams as everyone in the house cheers. You take three gulps with ease and feel the burning alcohol run down your throat. The night begins with loud music playing through the house, people cheering and screaming as they play various drinking games, couples making out, you name it.
Within an hour of you here, Jia has ran off with her situationship, she’s currently shoved into a corner making out. You however moved outside to sit by the fire pit along with the rest of your closest girl friends. You’re laughing with everyone talking about various topics, while sipping your alcohol infused drinks. Trying to embrace the positive atmosphere around you.
“Hey Y/N” a voice lingers in your ears.
You look up and meet eyes with a familiar handsome face.
“Hey Wooyoung, what’s up?” you smile at him. Wooyoung is a very well known member of the fraternity ATZ with a reputation of being the biggest flirt ever.
“Nothing much. I however wanted to get your number” Wooyoung is direct. He’s now sitting next to you and slings his arm over your shoulders.
“And why is that?” you raise your eyebrow at him.
“Does there need to be a reason why? I just want to get to know you more” Wooyoung smirks as he brushes a hair strand out of your face. You roll your eyes unimpressed. You can hear giggles from the girls around you as they try to carry on their conversations, trying to not make it obvious that they’re eavesdropping.
“No thanks Woo. however, you can talk to one of your many girls on your line” you smile at him sarcastically.
“But what if I don’t want any of those girls?” Wooyoung pouts at you. You scoff and take a swig of the hard seltzer in your hand.
“Bye Woo” you say as you turn back to talk to your friends. Wooyoung smirks and drops his head down. He gets up swiftly and turns to you one last time
“Alright no worries. I’ll see you around pretty”. Wooyoung walks away and you make eye contact with your giggling friends around you.
“Y/N omg! he was totally into you!” Mina exclaims grabbing onto your shoulder.
“Oh please, Wooyoung is into everyone.” you say as you laugh with everyone.
A few moments later you feel another body plop down next to you.
“Hey there Y/N-ah~”
You turn to look person next to you and you release a sigh.
“Hi there Mingi” You smile politely at him, trying to hide your annoyance. Another.. boy from ATZ. It is a well known fact that Mingi is one of the hottest boys in school. You even agree to that statement. But why is he here? and Why was Wooyoung just here a few minutes before him?
“What can I do for you Mingi?” you ask in a sarcastic manner.
“Funny that you ask sweetheart. Wanna go over there for a smoke?” Mingi smirks, eying you up and down.
“I don’t smoke” you say firmly.
“Then i’ll stop smoking for you. How about a shot together?” He asks holding out a hand.
“I already have a drink right here thanks though Min” You giggle at his efforts.
“Why playing so hard to get Y/N-ah?” Mingi sighs as he rests his head on his fist propped up by his elbow.
“I’m not playing anything Mingi.”
“How about your number then?” Mingi tries you one last time. You look at Mingi in an amused but confused face. Why is he suddenly interested in you? Mingi has a pool of fan girls who are quite aggressive whenever he’s seen with a fellow female alone. Not wanting to get caught in his fire you reply to him,
“I don’t think so Min, but It was nice seeing you” you smile at him one last time before waving him off.
All Mingi can do is laugh and wink at you as he leaves you be with your friends.
“seriously what is going on with that frat?” Harin laughs. The girls around you continue to talk as some move in and out of the circle.
**30 minutes later**
“Miss Y/N~”
You turn your face to see a close classmate of yours.
“Mister Jongho~” you smile as he sits next to you.
“Y/N, I was wondering-“
“Cut the crap Jongho. What are you and ATZ planning” you cut him off.
Jongho laughs and throws his hands up as if he’s just been stopped by the cops.
“Woah woah, what do you mean Pretty?” Jongho chuckles at you.
“You and two other people from ATZ have been bothering me. You’re up to something” you raise an eyebrow at him.
You’re quite comfortable with Jongho. you’ve been seeing him everyday this past semester in a shared class. He’s a nice person, often gossips with you and shares all the recent news going around campus. A bonus, he’s ridiculously handsome.
“Alrrigghhhtt alright. Y/N i’ll tell you if… you give me your number”. Jongho smirks at you
“Jongho, we have one class together everyday. why are you barely asking for my number now?” You ask.
“What if i want your number to ask how you’re doing through out the weekend?” He asks with doe eyes.
“oh please Jongho . don’t make me hate you” you roll your eyes and sigh.
“fine fine~ . Just a warning this isn’t going to end Y/N” Jongho stands up and begins to walk away
“Wait! aren’t you going to tell me-“ Jongho shakes his head no and disappears.
You turn towards your friends in shock and get up from your seat.
“Alright.. well i’m going to go inside to get water” you say
“I’ll come with you Y/N!” “Me too!” Mina and Harin follow you as the rest of the girls wave you off.
Making your way to the kitchen to retrieve a bottle of water, Mina and Harin find a spot on the couch and catch up with some friends.
“Hey Y/N”
You turn and see a tall familiar man smiling at you.
“Hi Yunho” tilting your head looking up at him.
Yunho sighs and speaks, “I’ll just cut the chase. I’m not one to participate in these types of things, but will you give me your number? ATZ made a bet to see who can get your number first.”
You raise an eyebrow at him in shock.
“I know Pretty. I wasn’t for it either. you know i wouldn’t do stuff like this, especially to you. but help a friend out yeah?” Yunho explains.
He looks genuine confessing this to you. To be honest, you believe him. You and Yunho worked in the university library together every summer and built a mutual friendship. You can’t lie that you find Yunho very attractive, to be honest you were shocked when you first found out he was in a fraternity, he didn’t seem the as the stereotypical frat boy type. You take a few moments to reply, deeply appreciating that he has told you the truth behind ATZ’s scheme. so in return…
You sighed and rolled your eyes,
“If i give you my number what happens?”
“I won’t be embarrassed when i walk back to my friends.” Yunho give you a cheeky smiles
“Seriously? So this is just an ego thing?” You cross your arms uninterested.
“Y/N please. does there really need to be a motive. You are hot! lots of guys would kill for your number let alone your attention. The guys are buzzed right now and it just kind of happened.” Yunho explains.
“Fine.” you hold out your hand waiting for Yunho’s phone.
“Oh you’re a doll Y/N. thank you” Yunho says as he scrambles to take out his phone. You type in your number and shoo him off.
Walking out of the kitchen and making your way back to the couch you hear ATZ cheering and shouting at Yunho in shock and slight jealousy. You advert your attention back to your friends. “What took you so long?” Mina asked.
“I was talking with Yunho in the kitchen” you say casually.
“Mina! Harin! come here!!” One of the girls from outside are hollering them over . Mina and Harin scurry over with no questions leaving you on the couch with others watching people compete in beer pong. You feel a buzz in your pocket and you take out your phone to check a notification
Unknown: Yuyu’s #. You’re a life saver. I owe you!
You scoff at the nickname and save Yunho’s number to your cell.
“Is this seat taken?”
You turn your head to see yet another member from ATZ. A familiar face to you, but you’ve never really spoken to him. Just small encounters here and there at other parties.
“No it’s not.” you say shortly.
“I’m Seonghwa.” The man smiles at you softly. You can’t lie. This man is gorgeous. You smile back at him,
“I’m Y/N” You replied.
“I know” Seonghwa says with a smirk. You tilt your head in confusion.
“You know?” you say sarcastically, trying to play along.
“Well not technically. But I would like to get to know you though. How about your number?” Seonghwa asked tilting his head the same direction as yours. You scoff and laugh at his smooth come back.
“Why are you suddenly interested in my number Seonghwa?” you ask leaning into the couch.
“Well hot people should stay in touch together. Wouldn’t you agree Y/N?” Seonghwa says smirking.
“Not quite.” you roll your eyes and laugh.
“It was nice meeting you though, Seonghwa, I have to go check up on a friend now”. You get up from the couch and begin to search for Jia. You should actually check up on her, she’s been unseen for a while now.
Walking upstairs you move towards her room. Before twisting the door knob open, you hear moans. You stop your tracks and back up slowly.
(Welp, she seems fine) you say to yourself.
Walking back downstairs, you are stopped midway by a muscular figure. You look up and meet eyes with an angelic face.
“Oh Hey Y/N” the man smiles at you.
“Hi Yeosang” you smile back, mentally punching yourself for basically running into all of the ATZ members (more like they are running to you).
“What are you doing up here pretty?” Yeosang asks eying you up and down.
“Just checking up on Jia” you reply
“I saw her run off with Wonho a few hours ago. they looked like they were going to jump each other’s skins?” Yeosang chuckles.
“Yeah.. i’m sure they did” You confirm laughing with him.
“Y/N-ah, We should hang out sometime. We haven’t talked since last semester.” Yeosang is looking at you with a mesmerizing gaze that’s quite intoxicating.
“So suddenly?” you tease.
“Well why not, we had a great time studying for months in the library together don’t you agree?” Yeosang smirks.
“Can I have your number Please Y/N?” Yeosang pouts. You blush at his pretty face “Only because you’re pretty and you don’t annoy me like the others. i know what you and ATZ are up to” you say as you grab his phone from his hand.
“Who snitched!” Yeosang groans.
“Yuyu” You both laugh at the nickname as you dial your number in his phone and let it ring. Your phone begins to buzz and Yeosang’s number pops up on your phone. Yeosang smiles and ruffles your hair.
“You’re such an Angel Y/N” Yeosang doesn’t break his gaze off of you as you walk away from him.
You make your way back to Mina and Harin who are outside taking shots.
“Y/N!!! Let’s take a shot!” Mina catches your eyes and drag you towards the outside bar. “Mina! i can’t drink anymoreee~” you laughing at her drunk state. Mina whines and runs off to Harin who is trying to escape from taking another shot “Yah! Harin, come back!!” You laugh as you take a seat at the bar.
“Hey there”
You hear a voice near you. You turn and look at the person next to you. You mentally curse.
“Hi” you reply trying to be uninterested. Another fellow member from ATZ has approached you once again. However you’re shocked to see it’s the Frat president “My name’s Hongjoong. yours?” the man holds out his hand in a greeting. You smirk and take his hand.
“Hi Hongjoong. I’m Y/N”
“What a pretty name. wanna head back to my place? it’s getting crowded here don’t you think?” Hongjoong leans in closer to your face and smiles at you. Fuck, you say to yourself. His smiling is intoxicating and his facial features are so perfect. You try to snap yourself back into reality.
“I’m okay. I’d rather go back to my own home” You say as you begin to walk away.
Hongjoong follows next to you.
“oh to your place? I don’t mind that either. I was just trying to be polite” Hongjoong chuckles and stops in front of you to keep you from running off.
“You know that’s not what i meant Hongjoong” you say rolling your eyes.
“Then explain to me what you meant Y/N” Hongjoong teases.
“I’m not interested Hongjoong” you laugh. “But Here, i’ll save you the trouble” You take out your phone and hand it to Hongjoong. He cocks an eyebrow at you and smirks. He grabs your phone and inputs his number. He names his contact “Captain Hongjoong”. Hongjoong rings his number and shows you his phone screen as your number pops up. You scoff at him and retrieve your phone.
“I’ll see you around captain” you wave him off as you walk towards the house. Your social battery began to die with the consistent interactions, even though you can’t deny it was entertaining. However, you want to go home. You send a quick message to Jia that you’re heading out and begin to make your way towards the house exit. You take out your phone to call an uber as you sit on the front porch. You are slightly sobering up as you wait.
“Y/N. Leaving so soon?”
you turn your head and see a familiar face. Choi San. A person you quite despise.
“Yeah I called an uber” You say as you avoid eye contact with him.
You can’t quite remember why you and San hate each other. You two used to be friends, childhood friends actually. However once High school started you both drifted away into your own cliques and grew apart with a habit of hatred mixed with a teasing tension (mainly from San).
San sits next to you and looks at the night sky.
“How have you been Y/N?” San asks calmly
“Why do you care San.” you say a bit too snappy.
San looks unphased .
“What’s up with the attitude Y/N-ie” San teases. You turn to San and look at him with a stern face.
“San I know the bullshit you and ATZ are pulling.” You say.
“If you know, then why did you give into Yunho, Yeosang, and Hongjoong?” San raises an eyebrow at you.
“Because I know them and-“
“You’ve never spoken to Hongjoong.”
“You know what I don’t owe you an explanation to who I give my number to or who I show interest in. We haven’t spoke since high school, so don’t start acting interested in my life now” You bite back.
“Ouch You dont have to be like that Y/N-ie” . Having enough, you get up quickly and begin to walk away.
“My uber is here.”
Finally fleaing the party you make your way up to your apartment studio. You strip off your clothes and fall onto your bed. Your phone buzzes a few times. You glance at your phone and see a notification from Hongjoong.
Captain Hongjoong: “Hey pretty, let’s meet up tomorrow”
You don’t care to open the chat at the moment. So you toss your phone down and try to fall into a deep sleep, exhausted from the alcohol and various conversations from today.
~~
Yuyu: Hi Y/N-ie, wyd today? Let’s hang out!
You groan in annoyance as you stare at your notification bars. You haven’t opened any messages from last night or this morning. Mainly spams from Mina and Jia. Plus… the two messages from Hongjoong and now Yunho. You hesitate before responding to Yunho.
Y/N: What are you guys up to? I thought this was a one time ego boost thing. pls leave me alone.
Yuyu: Y/N if you want the full truth, you have to hang out with me today ;)
Y/N: what do you mean “the full truth”
Yuyu: I can explain if you agree to hang out with meeeeee
Y/N: Well your “Captain” messaged me about hanging out as well. Do I ditch him for you or are you going to get buried alive?
Yuyu: Lol, don’t worry about him. So yes or no?
Y/N: Fine. send the address.
Yuyu: Perfect, i’ll see you later Y/N!
You start to regret your life decisions as you walk out your apartment and head towards the address Yunho sent you. Looking at the address on Maps you realize , you are meeting Yunho at the ATZ Frat house. You sign in frustration and contemplate if you should cancel on him last minute with some shitty excuse. However, you’re curious as to why ATZ was so infatuated on you last night.
You arrive to the frat house and ring the door bell. You can hear running footsteps and mumbled voices behind the door as you wait. Finally, the door knob clicks, swings open, and you are met with happy faced Yunho.
“Y/N! YOURE HERE!” Yunho hugs and lifts you off the ground. You freeze in shock and try to hold in your laughter. Yunho puts you down and pulls you inside the frat house. “Welcome to the ATZ House!”
It’s cleaner than you expected. Especially knowing this is a house full of 8 men. Yunho guides you to the living room, where you are met with 6 of the ATZ members sitting on an L shaped couch. San is missing? You freeze your tracks and look towards Yunho.
“Jeong Yunho, you said you’d tell me the full truth” you cross your arms and stare at him intensely.
“Yes yes, WE, will tell you. now Miss Y/N please sit down” Yunho pulls out a chair for you and encourages you to sit down, as he makes his way to sit with the rest of the 6 men.
Hongjoong speaks up first “Y/N, i know you must be confused why we all took interest in you suddenly last night. Now, we’d like to explain ourselves.”
You cock your eyebrow in confusion as you look at all the members present,
“Where’s San? You said all of you guys took interest.” You asked.
“It took some convincing for Sannie, but he unfortunately had to sit out on today’s meeting because he has other…. Fraternity duties to fulfill. Don’t worry though honey he truly does have interest in you” Hongjoong explains.
You’re not convinced that San agreed to whatever this is. Regardless, you sit in silence waiting for further explanation.
“I’ll just get straight to the point. Y/N, we’d like you to be ours.” Hongjoong says blatantly.
You laugh. Out loud.
None of the boys are laughing. They all seem so serious.
“Wait you’re serious?” you ask arms still crossed.
“Yes we are serious.” Yunho chimes in.
“So… be yours as in become the ATZ Sweetheart?” You question.
“Well, yes but not really. Y/N we mean, we want you to be our girlfriend. All 8 of us.“
end of chapter 1….
~
Ahhhh my first series! I hope you all enjoy! please leave comments and suggestions for any improvements, as i am still a new writer 🥹. Leave comments or message me to be part of my TagList for this series! I am hoping to have chapter 2 posted soon!
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coldfanbou · 2 days
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Be Sure Of It
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Here we are with Eunha. In the end, I kept it as only her because I had this idea. Honestly, though, I may use the building mentioned for some other smuts. It would be pretty easy to insert other idols there and just have a universe around it. Also, it was a little tricky to write this because I had to think about whether to refer to Eunha using the stage name versus her real name.
Length 3.2K
Eunha X Mreader
You waited nervously at the restaurant, tapping your fingers on the table as you waited for your date's arrival. You peered out the large windows, hoping to spot her; her profile was on your phone, so you didn’t mistake someone else for her. Then, you saw her across the street, her bag slung over her shoulder as she hurried towards you. Relief washed over you as you recognized her, and she noticed you, too, waving with a bright smile. She walked around the corner, stepped inside, and headed straight toward you. “Hi! I’m Eunbi; sorry for keeping you waiting!” She exclaimed, slightly out of breath, as she sat down and reached over the table to shake your hand.
“It’s nice to meet you too. I was a little worried you wouldn’t show up,” you admit, feeling a mix of relief and nervousness. Your heart was pounding, and you couldn't help but wonder if she felt the same way.
“I’d never no-show a date. It’s hard enough to get one with my job.” 
You nod your head, trying to remember what her job was. “It was as a-”
“A health girl,” Eunbi interrupts, “I’m glad you remember,”
“Yeah, I tried to remember everything you had on your profile. I must have gone over it a hundred times before today.” You feel immediate embarrassment as those words leave your mouth, and you hang your head, feeling like you just made a big mistake.
Eunbi laughs, though, “Really? Were you that interested in me?” Looking up, you see Eunbi resting her head on her hand, her cheek squished. 
“Um, yes,” You say quietly, feeling a warm flush spread across your cheeks as Eunbi's laughter fills the air. You could feel your cheeks turning red, and you were sure she could see it, too.
“Don’t be shy; that makes me pretty happy. I don’t get many matches because of my profession. Those that I do get usually only want one thing. So, what made you interested in me?
“I thought you were cute and saw all the pictures of you cosplaying. I thought it was cool.” You say shyly. 
“Ah! You looked at them?!” The excitement in her voice was evident, “Which one was your favorite?”
“I liked you as Haruko from Slam Dunk,” you reply, pulling up the picture. “I liked your smile; you looked really happy in it.”
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Eunbi purses her lips, trying to hide her smile. “Thanks,” she giggles. “No one really likes those old shows anymore, but I think they’re pretty fun.” You and Eunbi spent the date discussing old shows and sharing that interest. It was enjoyable; the two of you enjoyed sharing your thoughts about which shows should be remade and which should remain classics. As your time together came to a close, you ordered an ice cream and headed out the door together. You walked around, continuing your chat until you found yourselves in the city’s central park. 
Eunbi came to a stop, sitting on a nearby bench and waiting for you to sit next to her. “Tonight has been really fun, and I want to go on another date.” She says quietly, her happy energy from earlier fading as she becomes serious. “But are you sure you are okay with dating someone like me? It’s just- I mean, a lot of guys say they’re okay with it, but they really aren’t. They try to get me to quit as soon as we’re together.” It’s clear to you this was something Eunbi had gone through multiple times; the anxiety in her voice and the fact she was staring at the ground the entire time she spoke was enough. “I-I just…”
“Eunbi, I’m okay with it.” You say, placing your hand on hers. Eunbi raises her head, turning to face you. “It must be hard on you, looking for someone, but I’m okay with you having that sort of job. I’ll never make you quit; that’s your decision.” You take a deep breath, “I’d like to take you on another date, Eunbi.”
Eunbi sniffles, and a small smile appears on her face. “Thanks for saying that, but,” she pulls her hand away and reaches into her bag, pulling out a small business card. “I think you should see me at work before you decide if you want to go on another date with me.” Eunbi pushes herself off the bench and stands up. “Anyway, thanks for tonight. I had a lot of fun. You know where to find me, " she says softly. 
You rise slowly and walk over to Eunbi with the business card still in hand. “Yes, I do. Thanks for tonight, Eunbi.” You wrap your arms around her and hug her, feeling her arms hesitantly wrap around you before cinching in. After a moment, the two of you break apart and head separate ways for the night.
That night, you looked at the card before going to bed, feeling excited about the next step. You wanted to go on another date with Eunbi, so you had to visit her first. You notice the name change on it; she didn’t use her real name. She used Eunha.
A few nights passed when you decided to visit Eunbi at her workplace.  While the place was open all day, Eunbi worked in the evenings and nights, so that’s when you had to go. It was in the red-light district. You weren’t familiar with it and wandered around, trying to find the place. Neon lights glowed from every building, painting the street with various colors. You continued past the barkers, trying to get you to walk into their establishment. You turn your head, viewing both sides so you won’t have to do another lap. Then you spotted it; it was a large building that took up an entire block. Much like the other buildings in the area, it bathed the street in bright pink neon lights. You cross the street, getting closer, when you notice the women dancing inside, inviting men to enter. They wore revealing outfits, from bunny suits and sexy maids to wedding dresses, with some just in lingerie. The ground level had them separated into their own rooms. You come to a stop, though, as you pass by a crowd; glancing at the window, you see one of the women having sex, fucking like a rabbit in heat with her breasts pressed against the glance. You pry your eyes away and look ahead, noticing she isn’t the only one. Other women in the rooms ahead were also having sex. 
You refocused yourself and continued toward the entrance, heading inside and finding a similar situation, with women in rooms, some dancing and others having sex. On occasion, there would be room blacked out, giving you the hint that some people wanted to be watched. Once down the hall, you found a board of faces—a picture of a woman and their face on it. Some were greyed out, signifying they were with a client. “You have to put money in first, sir.” You hear from behind you. Turning around, you find a staff member sharply dressed in a suit behind the counter. The man repeats himself, pointing to the bottom left of the giant screen. You notice a smaller pad was there to take payment. “If you’d like any information about the ladies before choosing, please feel free to ask me.” 
“Is Eunha here?” You ask nervously. 
The staff member looked down at something before meeting your gaze and responding matter-of-factly, “Yes, she is. She is on the top left-hand side of the board.” You nod and pay for an hour's session before returning to the larger screen and looking for Eunha. You spot her picture at the top and press it, confirming your choice after.
“Good choice, sir. Here is your room key, " the staff member says, pulling out a keycard. “She is on the second floor; once up the stairs, go to the right side at the end of the hall, turn to the left, and she will be at the end of that hall.” The man extends his arm, showing you the staircase. You take the keycard and give the man a nod before heading up the spiral staircase, finding a large lounge with a couple of men sitting idly. You glance at the other two hallways before heading to the right. You feel your heart beat faster as you make the final turn and head to the end of the hall. You stand outside the door and take a deep breath before tapping the keycard and opening it. You step inside and find Eunha waiting on the other side. She’s in a school uniform that’s been cropped and is wrinkled. The skirt, if you could call it that at this point, ended a few inches from the waist. Eunha had on a pair of crotchless panties, and you could see how slick her thighs were with her; there was cum running down her legs. On the top half of her body was an open button-up shirt that she had tied together in a loose knot, her nipples poking through the thin fabric.
“Oh! It’s you!” Eunha says with a smile on her face. “You actually came.”
You nod, “I said I would.”
Eunha chuckles, “I guess you did.” You both stand there awkwardly, unable to continue. “Please have a seat.” Eunha moved back to the kingsized bed. She throws herself on it and pats the spot next to her. After sitting beside her, Eunha places her hand on your thigh. “I guess you can see what my last customer did to me,” Eunha says, looking between her legs. “I barely had time to get the room ready again.” She sighs, looking down at the floor and kicking her feet softly. “This is what I meant; I understand if you don’t want to date me. Who would want to have a girlfriend that’s constantly getting fucked by others.” You feel the sadness begin to seep through into her voice. 
You shake your head, “Eunbi, I told you I don’t care. I knew that going into this, I’d have to be okay with you having this job. Look, I know we’ve just been on a single date, but I like you, and I want to see where this goes.”
“You mean that?” Eunha asks, her voice wavering. You nod at Eunha and place your other hand on hers. Though small, your action was enough to give Eunha some confidence in you. She sniffles before giving you a bright smile. “I guess we should get started then, right?”  
“I guess so.” Eunha presses her lips against yours, pushing you onto the bed and straddling you. You feel the passion behind the kiss, the corners of her mouth pulled into a smile. She lifts your shirt past your arms and over your head. Eunha was confident in every action. She moved down slowly, raising her ass in the air as she worked at getting your pants down, unbuckling your belt, and unbuttoning your pants. She stares you down as she bites down on the zipper tab and pulls it down. You can see a growing hunger in her eyes as she crawls over you and steals another kiss from you. You feel her hands move down your side as she tries to pull your pants off you.
You help her get them off, along with your underwear. Eunha’s hand grasps your shaft, moving up and down slowly as she meets your gaze. “You’re already nice and hard for me.” She whispers, her grip growing tighter. You see her smile grow as you moan her name. Eunha moves her other hand down, cupping your balls. “These are so big and heavy. I haven’t eaten all day. You have a lot of cum for me, right?” She gives you a pout before moving down your body and pressing her face against your cock, letting the tip rest against her forehead. She kisses the shaft and takes in your scent before wrapping her hand around it again. Eunha shuts her eyes and presses her lips against the base of your cock, inching upward toward the tip. She was moving toward more sensitive areas, and with each kiss, precum leaks from the tip of your cock.
Finally reaching the tip, Eunha opens her eyes again. She smiles at you before pushing the tip against her lips, slowly spreading them and allowing you inside her warm mouth. You feel her tongue run up and down your shaft as she rubs the head against the inside of your cheek. Her hand strokes the base of your cock, ensuring you’re getting the most out of it. She pulls back slowly, letting her saliva drip onto your cock, her tongue sticking out. 
Running her hand up and down your shaft, Eunha spreads her saliva across your cock. “This is going to be good,” she mutters, leaning down and wrapping her lips around your cock. You groan, enjoying as Eunha bobs her head, her tongue running along the underside of your shaft. You rest on your elbows, watching Eunha, noticing as she moves one hand down and fingers herself, occasionally pulling out to rub her clit. You place your hand on her head, earning you a glance from Eunha. She continued, slowly down and taking more of you in. You lean back and groan loudly as you feel yourself hit the back of her throat. 
Eunha pulls back slowly, slobber running down her chin and onto your cock. She slaps herself with it, dirtying herself further. She strokes your cock quickly as she speaks, “You’re so close; I felt your cock twitch. You can cum whenever you want; you don’t even have to warn me. I’ll be able to drink it all up.” Eunha smiles at you before making your cock disappear again. 
You struggle to hold on as her tongue lashes at the tip of your cock. Eventually, you’re forced to cum; you buck your hips upward into Eunha’s mouth and cum inside. She presses her hand against your pelvis, pushing you down as her lips form a seal around your cock, and she drinks every drop. She bobs her head slightly as you cool down from your climax. Eunha slowly comes to a halt and leaves your cock with a pop, “Ahh, that was so good,” She moans, licking her lips. 
Eunha places her hand on your cock, stroking it to get you hard again. “That must’ve felt really good for you; you came a lot.”
“It was amazing,” you groan, her grip tightening as you get hard again.
“I’m glad you enjoyed it. Now it’s time for the best part.” Eunha straddles you, rubbing your cock between her folds as she aligns you to her entrance. She reaches forward, grabbing your hands and interlacing her fingers with yours as she lowers herself onto your cock. You slip in easily, her warm and slippery walls snuggly wrapping around your cock as she rests against your pelvis. Eunha’s soft moan fills the room, and you move up her body until you meet Eunha’s gaze. She gives you a soft smile that you can’t help but return. She keeps her hands with yours as she begins to bounce on your cock, soft moans flowing from her lips. Eunha leans against you, your hand holding becoming the only thing keeping her up. You lowered your eyes, noticing the knot that kept her shirt together come loose. Your eyes became glued to Eunha’s chest, watching her tits bounce as she rode you. “Ah, hold on,” she moaned, letting you off your hands to throw off her shirt. Eunha placed her hands on your chest and began moving again, her slow movements picking up speed with time. You placed your hands on her waist, holding her as she rode you. Eunha kept her eyes shut and threw her head back, groaning as she felt your cock go deep inside her. “You’re…going to… make me cum,” Eunha said, struggling to get her words out.
“I’m going to cum too.” You grunted, your cock throbbing against her tightening walls. You begin thrusting into Eunha, going deeper as your bodies collide. “I want us to cum together,” Eunha nods her head, biting her bottom lip as she nears her climax. You both cry out as you reach your peak; Eunha slams herself down on you, impaling herself on your cock and cumming with you. You pull Eunha into a kiss as she collapses on top of you, her chest heaving as you both slowly come down. 
“That was amazing,” she says, still out of breath. Eunha unmounts you and places herself on your bicep, taking a few deep breaths before looking into your eyes as you lay there together. 
“I’ve seen you at your work now. So I can ask you out on another date, right?” After a few minutes of staring into your eyes, her face turns red. She covers it with her hands and turns her back to you. “Eunbi? What’s wrong?” You ask, trying to turn her back around.
“It’s embarrassing!” She shouts into her hands.
“What?”
“Ahh! I said all those things in front of you!” Eunbi buries her face into the mattress and kicks her feet. 
“Those things?” You ask curiously.
“Those things about your cock and balls. It’s so dirty!” You laugh at her answer, making her raise her head. “Don’t laugh! I only say those things here because people like to hear that!” She explains, her tiny fists knocking on your chest. “You’re never going to hear me repeat those things! They’re too embarrassing to say to someone I’m dating!” 
You laugh again, enjoying how embarrassed she was. “So, does that mean we’re going on another date?” Eunbi pauses her tantrum, realizing what she said. She peers up at you, and you ask again, “Eunbi, would you like to go out on another date?”
Eunbi feels a warmth in her heart as she hears your question being asked so sincerely and nods. “I’d like that; yeah, let’s go on another date,” she says softly before embracing you. You spend the rest of your time lying together. When your time runs out, and you're forced to separate, Eunbi kisses you on the cheek. “I’ll text you, okay?”
“Yeah, of course.” You respond before kissing Eunbi one more time before you go. “Have a good day at work.” She smiles and waves as you shut the door behind you. You get home sometime past midnight and lay in bed. You couldn’t sleep, though; your body was filled with energy after your night with Eunbi. You thought you would feel tired, but that wasn't the case, and just as your mind began to drift, you got a single-word message from Eunbi. 
“Breakfast?” It made you chuckle, and you agreed to meet her for breakfast in the morning. The two of you met for breakfast, chatting about old cartoons like you had on your first date. Eunbi felt content, happy to have found you, and hoping the relationship continues. The wariness of a new relationship was still on her mind, but seeing that you went further than many others had dared to, she felt a sense of comfort with you.
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luveline · 2 days
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hello lovely angel!! humbly requesting zombie!steve au, perhaps more of jealous steve? i love their dynamic so much💗 maybe someone is flirting with reader, and enter protective steve:)
thanks for requesting! fem, 2k
You tend to think of it in two weird halves. You love Steve, and you never would’ve known that without the end of the world, so things are okay. Sometimes you wonder if he ever could’ve loved you if he hadn’t been so close to you for so long, but he loves you in this insane capacity of softness that says otherwise. Like, soulmate style. 
It didn’t begin that way. Steve your reluctant guide, and you his unlikely saviour. You’d stopped him from dying at the very start of it all and he couldn’t leave you behind. And Steve, he’d been mean to you. He didn’t want to take care of you initially, but you’d grown to get along. You’d argue black and blue and he’d still rub your back at night. 
There are so many moments you’ve shared that make what you have all the more special. A hundred different memories from before you’d ever kissed. You think about it now, watching him across the firepit as he shows a young girl, Cassandra, how to braid her hair. 
The one that’s sticking today is when Steve got really bad food poisoning for the first time. When you’d known you were in love with him for a while, and when he’d stopped pretending he didn’t know. He’d been sick everywhere, on both your shoes, and you’d rubbed his back through everything.  
It was nice to take care of him. Nicer that night when you’d shared a bed and he’d hugged you half to death. 
He has no idea how much he means to you, or how much those moments with him kept you going when you were all alone. You’re lucky now to have found community, but those stolen hours in bed with him hugging him and getting to be his support, you wouldn’t have made it here without them. 
“Hey.” 
You look up as a man sits down. A boy, a man —what do you call twenty somethings? You don’t feel like a woman most of the time, but you are. 
“Hi,” you say. 
“I’m Jamison.” 
“You’re Eddie’s friend, right?” 
“Who, Munson?” Jamison makes a kidding face, a disgusted scrunch of his eyebrows that falls away to more friendly fondness. “Yeah, we go back. You’re Eddie’s friend too, right? I saw you guys taking out some laundry a few days ago.” 
Jamison is handsome. He has tan skin, short hair, and a crooked nose. His smile is disarming. If you hadn’t fallen in love with the handsomest guy around, you might feel nervous under his gaze. 
Time spent ugly under Steve’s reverent handling makes you confident. You genuinely feel prettier knowing Steve loves you, and it makes it easier to be yourself with strangers. 
“Eddie’s awesome,” you say easily. “I thought he was gonna kill me when we first met, but he’s too nice.” 
“Nice, really?” 
Jamison is casual, as people go. You wonder what his motivations are for talking to you at first, but as conversation stretches, littered with the cracking pops of the fireplace and brief pauses of surprisingly comfortable silence, you realise he’s just talking. Maybe he’s lonely. You know how that feels. 
He tells you that he and Eddie had been in a rock band together before the apocalypse. You’d known to some extent that Eddie was in a band, but Jamison tells you all the details you’d been missing. They were called Corroded Coffin, four members, Eddie played guitar and Jamison thought he was pretty fucking good at it, actually. 
“I don’t think we would’ve been, like, Metallica. But we could’ve been good. We were gonna make a record.” 
You smoke sympathetically. “I bet you could’ve been.” 
“What were you doing? Before all this?” 
“I honestly barely remember,” you say quietly. Your life before Steve is a blur, and it’s painful, too. “Things are harder now, I know that. I wish every day that we could go back to how things were, you know, I miss TV and grocery stores and my family.” You lick your lips. “I wish things were different, but somehow, I think I like my life now. I have stuff to do. Is that crazy?” 
“It’s not crazy. Everything fucking sucks,” —you both laugh— “but that’s not crazy. I’m lucky, I still have my dad, and my friends. There’s purpose in being here.” 
You nod emphatically, just once. “Exactly.” 
You have purpose, now. You get to be a friend, a girlfriend, a confidente. You take care of people. 
It all comes back to Steve, at the end of the day. Would you change the world if it meant never having met him? 
Nope. 
You glance across the fire for him, but he’s not there. 
You put your arm behind your back and bend, looking for him. 
“Looking for someone?” Jamison asks. 
You deflate with relief when you spot him standing near the gaggle of tents about fifty feet away. He’s looking at you from over Robin’s shoulder. You wave, and he waves back with a big smile. 
Something seems a little wrong. 
“Steve,” you explain. 
“He’s your boyfriend, yeah? Eddie told me you’ve been together since the start.” 
You don’t bother correcting him. He might not mean together as how you’re thinking it. “Yeah, that’s him. Have you met him?” 
“Kind of. We all thought he was a huge dick, back then.” 
“He sort of was,” you say. “I mean, we all had our own stuff going on. I get that I’m biased, but he’s my favourite person I’ve ever met. He’s so kind, I don’t think I could describe it to you or anyone just how much he cares about people. I wouldn’t be here without him, and… I don’t know, I’m not saying you’re wrong, but if you ever wanted to meet him again, he’s amazing. He’s a great friend. He’s so fucking funny, he makes me laugh every day.” 
“He’s sort of giving me the stink eye,” Jamison says. 
You wave your hand weakly. “He has raging jealousy issues.” 
“Shit, am I getting you in trouble?” 
“No, never!” you say, tempted to laugh. “He doesn’t get mad at me for stuff like that. He’s normal, I promise. Just sensitive.”
You tell Jamison that it was nice talking to him because it really was, but you’ve been missing Steve for hours already and you need to get back to him before you go totally bonkers. 
He’s sitting on the floor in the tent. The weather has been beautiful lately, you could sleep under the stars if you weren’t scared of being zombie charcuterie. Steve has stripped down to just his jeans and socks, no t-shirt or shoes to be seen. He has his sketchbook splayed open on his thigh, but he abandons it the moment you kneel down. 
“Hey,” you say. 
Steve folds his book closed, pencil between its pages. “Hi. Have I told you lately how beautiful you are?” 
You shuffle in to take his hand. Clumsy touches, his fingers warm and a tad clammy between yours. “You told me yesterday that I have a smile like an angel. I know you were kidding, but I still felt it.” 
“I wasn’t kidding,” he says, wrinkling his nose with a smile. “You think every compliment is a joke.” 
“Don’t make me laugh so much, then.” 
He squeezes your fingers gently. “Sorry I didn’t introduce myself to Jamison. Just, I knew him already from school. And he did not like me.” 
“That’s okay. He seemed nice, I think you’d get along if you met now.” You kick your shoes off and crawl as close to him as you can get. He looks up at you, but you look down at his lap. “What are you drawing?” 
“I was just trying to touch up that landscape I did of the river,” he says, a sheepishness to him as he opens his sketchbook. 
You read it with affection, trace lines and hatchings in awe. “Steve, I really wish you had time and space to do this stuff properly. Not that you aren’t doing it properly, just, I know you could make something just as beautiful as this with paint.” You slide to be sitting properly, putting you both at the same height, so you can meet his eyes as you continue. “Did you know what you wanted to do, when you were finishing school? Did you ever think about art?” 
“I thought about it.” His lips quirk. “Mostly about how my dad would’ve kicked me out if I said something that stupid.” 
“It’s not stupid.” 
“I know.” 
That would’ve been a nice life. You and Steve living together, with a basement for his paintings, or a garage turned studio. You’d read books together every night like you do now, and you’d scrub paint smudges off of his cheek. 
You love him so much it must give you an aura. 
“I’ve got nothing to worry about, huh?” he asks softly. 
You drift in, tipping your head back for a kiss you don’t take. “I don’t know, Steve, Jamison used to be in a rock band.” 
He scoffs in disgust. You think it might be a mixture of anger at Jamison and himself. “Who wants to date a rockstar?” 
“I might’ve.” 
You’re teasing, of course, smiling as your kiss draws nearer, and nearer. 
“Well, I can be a rockstar,” he says quietly, warmth of his breath on your lips. “Just give me a chance to get there.” 
You brush the tip of your nose against his and hold your breath. “That’s okay,” you say, letting it rush out of you in a huff, your excitement to be kissed too much to bear, “I like my guys all mixed up. Preferably good at track, and swimming, but with a soft side. Kind of guy who fills a sketchbook up with my face.” 
Steve lists to the side. Your lips are so close, you can feel the phantom of them against yours as he moves in. “It’s not just your face… it’s your hands, your arms… your everything–”
He cuts his own explanation off with a soft kiss. That softness swiftly hardens, turns rough, ten long seconds of sweetness before his hands coming up behind your head and he’s pressing inward, deepening the kiss, and giving you little room to breathe. 
You have no intention of dating any rockstars, but his jealous streak has nothing but upsides for you. Steve knows that his jealousy over the innocuous is his own problem, his own insecurity that he’s working on, and while you sympathise with him (after all, haven’t you yourself worried he’d find someone else he liked more?), you have to confess to enjoying the edge to his kissing. 
You make a pleased, humoured sound as he breathes you in like you’re a drug he’s been waiting for. He gets sloppier, and you can’t help pulling away to laugh. 
“What?” he asks, thumbing at your cheek in a soft juxtaposition. “Sorry, am I being a dick?” 
“No, it’s fine. Kiss me how you want to.” 
Steve kisses your cheek softly. “He knows you have a boyfriend, right?” 
“He knows.” 
Steve hums like he’s smiling and nudges your nose with his, until you part your lips, and he wades in for another dose. 
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f0point5 · 2 days
Note
I think I have sent this same request some time ago but I still would like you to write something about Emilia and Max hanging out with Victoria’s children and maybe thinking about their own future kids. But really anything with Max and Emilia would be great!
I don’t think I’ve ever seen this one, but tumblr eats asks sometimes 🤷‍♀️ but it’s too cute so here you go! I am keeping these short but I hope you still enjoy it!
��Set during summer break 2024✨
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I’m having his baby (…) no, I’m not
You take a sip of your rosé as Victoria comes to stand beside you. You’re lurking in the doorway of the lounge, watching Max sitting on the couch with his baby niece in his arms. He’s bobbing her in a gentle motion, his hands looking huge around her tiny, swaddled body.
“God, I remember when we used to say our kids would get married,” Vic says beside you, and you laugh.
You did say that. As little kids you would wish to be sisters, and somehow the only way you could think to make that happen would be for your children to marry each other. Like in that Flintstones movie you used to love. You’d draw pictures of the two of you sitting on the porch of a large house, watching your children get married.
Now you wonder if your mums thought the same, during those summers in Italy, as they watched you all play. They swear now that they did, that the mother’s intuition told them you and Max were tied together by some invisible chord that chafed on both your wrists. “A mother always knows,” Sophie said to you when she saw you last, “you will know, too”.
“And now that would be illegal and dangerous for our grandkids,” you say, shaking your head. “Crazy,”
“I like it better this way,” Victoria says, putting her arm around your shoulder and squeezing you into a hug.
“Me, too,” you agree, your eyes fixed on Max and Hailey. He’s whispering to her in Dutch, her eyes fluttering closed every few seconds as she yawns in his face, which only makes him smile. He’s utterly mesmerised by her. And you’re mesmerised by him.
I swear I can actually feel my ovaries right now.
“He’s so good with kids,” Vic says. “Even with Jaye I remember he was so gentle,”
“Yeah,” you agree, only half hearing her as you take another sip.
“Gives you baby fever, huh?”
You choke on your wine. Was that Victoria or your subconscious talking?
Vic, are you in here? No, of course she’s not in here. She’s just being nosey. Act natural.
“Are you okay?” Max asks from the couch. You look over at him as you wipe your mouth, coughing once as you nod. Even as he looks at you in concern, he never stops the gentle bouncing motion of the baby in his arms.
You go to answer, but Vic beats you to it, blunt as ever. “I was just saying, you will be having one of your own soon, yeah?” She smiles, nodding at Hailey.
If Max is panicking as much as you, he doesn’t show it, just shrugging. “I mean, ye-“ You can feel your eyes widen, and he stops when he sees your face. He tries again. “May-“ he frowns at you, silently begging for help. “No?” You nod gently, and Max turns to Victoria. “No.”
She looks at you in mild disbelief. “No?”
“No,” you emphasise to both Verstappens.
You love them dearly but genetics are a crazy thing - they both share a chronic disregard for timing. They want it all, and they want it now, in any order, all order be damned.
“You’re not getting any younger,” Victoria says, nudging you.
“That is just rude,” you tell her, and she just smiles unapologetically.
“Oh, come on,” she implores, reaching up to wind her finger around a lock of your hair, “a little baby with Max’s eyes and your hair?”
“And both of our tempers,” you say with a chuckle. “Can you imagine that? Besides, we can barely make cereal, and you want us to raise a baby?”
You look at Max for support, but he’s no longer paying attention. He’s looking down at his niece like he’s holding water.
Maybe a baby can live on cereal, if her dad looks at her like that.
“I’m going to go put Hailey down for her nap,” Vic says, jerking you from your thoughts.
She goes over to take a sleepy Hailey from Max’s arms, and he looks loathe to let her go. She looks so much bigger when held by her mother, and her so much more fragile.
“When I get back, we can start on dinner. I’m going to make cereal,” Vic teases in a whisper, winking at you as she passes.
Max snorts with laughter, and you shoot Vic a glare as she starts to hum, shuffling her way out of the lounge towards the bedroom.
You join Max on the couch, falling onto it beside him with a heavy sigh.
“So glad I’m an only child,” you say, rolling your eyes. When Max doesn’t respond, you glance over at him to find him staring at his hands. You nudge him gently. “What?”
“You do,” he starts, leaning back as he turns to you. “Want kids, someday, don’t you?With me. I mean…you don’t think I’ll be, like…”
“No,” you answer quickly, when you understand what he’s getting at.
You silently curse yourself for that joke about tempers. For ever making him think that’s something you worry about. You know there’s a heaviness in Max, in both of you. You know that he is so much more than his father’s son. But you also know that the weight on his shoulders will keep him crooked until he can see that for himself. You hope knowing you see it will be enough for now.
“I want your baby, Max. Someday. There’s no one else I would ever do this with besides you and not just because I love you, but because I know you’ll be an amazing dad,” you tell him honestly, and even that small platitude seems to relax his shoulders. “But can we at least get to one year of baby making activities before we start painting a nursery?”
Max nods, letting out a husk of a laugh. “I’m shit at painting anyway,” he says, looking at you from under those eyelashes that you secretly envy.
Maybe she’ll inherit those, too.
“Free practice?” You offer with a smirk, holding your hand for his.
Max looks at your outstretched palm for a moment before taking your hand in his. “Free practice,” he agrees, using his grip on your hand to pull you forward so that your chest is pressed against his. “I’m looking forward to FP2 later,”
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ohtobeleah · 3 days
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I think one of the main reasons why the Worst!Logan loves you so much, without putting too much thought into the question, is simply because you ease the burden of being alive. You don’t ‘give him a reason to live.’ He found that on his own when Wade showed up and snatched his old, drunken ass out of his world and planted him here. But you ease the burden. You ease the pain of being alive on days when everything seems so…distressing. But when you plant something, it often grows roots. And that’s exactly what Logan wanted to do with you. 
“Hope, at its very core, can be the worst of all evils because it prolongs the torment of man,” That one. That was the ‘Hook, Line and Sinker’ moment where Logan knew you had him wrapped around your finger like some perverted puppy. “You aren’t just any man, Logan,” He could vividly picture you sitting on his lap while his back pressed heavily into your headboard. “You’re Wade’s boyfriend.” 
“Oh aren’t you just hilarious,” Logan could remember replying to you as you leaned in to place a gentle kiss against his lips. He loved those moments. The quiet ones. Where nothing else in the world mattered except for the time he got to spend in your undivided attention. “Keep that attitude up, I dare you.” 
“You don’t have to threaten me with a good time.” It was the dynamic the two of you had. The banter-filled friendship that crossed the line into friends with immaculate benefits. And under the glow of your bedside lamps, the ones that sent an orange hume across the floor-length curtains and cottage cream walls, Logan knew that the small amount of time you had been in his life…had been the time most lived. 
“You surround yourself day in and day out with a degenerate crew of antagonists, Logan, of fucking course you’re gonna pick up a few traits after a while!” It wasn’t uncommon to see Logan perched up at the bar while you made coffees for the steady trickle of customers who stopped by for their caffeine fix. After all, it was your cafe. “It doesn’t sound like my issue that you called Althea, Blind Al.” 
“It’s not her fucking name, is it?” Logan’s heated. He kinda hates himself a little for it. Mainly because he recognised straight away who he sounded like. Wade fucking Wilson. Secondly, he had enough respect for the old, aging and decaying to know nicknames like that could put senior citizens into early graves. Well, earlier. “You know what, that’s it, I’m not fucking hanging around that guy anymore.” 
Deep down, Logan knew he didn’t mean it. Wade was a genuinely good person. He saw a lot of parallels of himself in the guy. And if it weren’t for Wade… Logan wouldn’t be sitting here right now. Bickering back and forth with the love of his overextended life. You just made him feel like a guy. Just some dumb guy. Simple. Whenever Logan was with you, he wasn’t The Wolverine. He was just James Howlett. 
“Okay one,” You stopped steaming the milk you had in just been working with so you could reply. You turned with a shit-talking snarl ready to go. “You sound like someone who’s beefing with their childhood bestie,” The frown on Logan’s face warned you not to continue, but you weren’t in the mood to pity someone over four times your age. “Two, you fucking live with the guy man?” You pointed out the incredibly obvious logistics of Logan’s dilemma. “What? you gonna sleep on the street?” It was a genuine question you had. “Please, you’re made of metal dumbass, you’ll catch some sort of genetically fucked mutation of pneumonia and die at the young age of two hundred and twenty-something.” 
“You know exactly who you sound like right now?” Logan countered as he sipped his coffee. The same coffee order you made him every damn day. Black, no cream, sugar or milk. No flavoured syrup or sweeteners in sight. Just black. 
“If you point out the fact I sound like my longest-standing friend, I’ll take great pleasure in knowing you can’t die alone, because you can’t seem to die at all!!” 
“Go fuck yourself!” Logan needed this. He needed you to match his energy. You saw him coming from a mile away when he’d come barrelling into the cafe with a glare of despair and in need of some reprieve. 
“Fuck me yourself, asshole.” It wasn’t exactly what Logan had been expecting you to say, but he did take you up on that offer…The second he knew you were off work and at home later that same evening. 
“Logan–” Your needy little whines were a symphony of desire and love. “Logan–yes, baby you feel so good.” The way Logan made you feel, the way he touched you in all the right ways, made you feel drunk on his ecstasy. 
“Ohhhh just like that huh?” Logan wouldn’t dare change a single thing about what he was doing right now. He had you right where he wanted you. He loved you in his position. The one where he had your arms pinned behind your beck. The one where your chest presses right against his. The one where all he has to do is buck his hips up into yours while his heels dig into your mattress. It’s the one where he can whisper the most degrading things into your ear and knows you’re drooling for it. He knows that much because he can feel it dripping down his other shoulder while you mumble incoherent love songs. 
“I could smell you, you know,” Logan growls particularly low as he keeps his pace going. “When you were giving me that fucking attitude in the cafe today,” You know he’s talking, but the way his perfectly enhanced cock is kissing the tip of your cervix with every thrust it keeping your mind from focusing on anything else but chasing that all important high of yours. “Got nothing to say now, have you?” 
“I–” You tried to tell Logan what you want, you know he already knows when the words won’t come out and you can’t keep your eyes from rolling. “Wanna–” 
“Oh please,” Logan nearly begs while he keeps thrusting up into you. He can feel the mixture of his previous load and your arousal mixing at the base of his shaft. “Give me something pretty to look at gorgeous.” 
Logan thought you were the most gorgeous woman to ever grace his life. Inside and out you were truly one of the most kind-hearted, lovely, compassionate people he’d ever known. But right now, in this very moment, all Logan wanted to do was see your gorgeous face when you came around his slicked-up shaft. All he wanted to feel was you clenched him like a vice grip made just for him. 
“Fuckk–Logan!” At your cries, Logan was quick to grab your face with one of his hands. He wanted to look you in the eyes. Wanted to feel every part of your soul connect with his when you came for him. 
“I’m right here,” He cooed, still bucking into you with force and pace. “I’ve got you, come on me, baby.” 
“Ohhhhh–” The way you dragged your nails down his sides made Logan hiss with pure sexual gratification. Your velvet walls paused around his shaft as he kept up the pace, fucking deeper into you. As deep as he could get just to feel you. “Yessss–” 
“I’m the luckiest guy alive,” Logan rolled his eyes with pure unadulterated lust as you came down from your high. He lets go of your face only to crash his lips against yours in a feverish kiss. “Fucking perfect for me.” He gives you a minute to recover. Logan slowly rocks his hips so that he’s never completely still, always admiring your beauty while yours naked on top of him the way you are. 
“Okay big guy,” You sigh, sitting up to straddle Logan. “Your turn.” 
“Gready thing, one not enough for you?” Logan could still feel how full you were from his last load. He couldn’t contain himself, you just had that effect on him. 
“Well, since you’re either sleeping here or on the street tonight, I figured you didn’t have any plans,” You teased as you rocked your hips the way you knew drove Logan wild. His fingers dug into your hips and for a second he released some pressure. Worried that he might leave a few bruises. Or worse…But when you placed your hands on top of his? Logan knew you were alright. “Gonna finish what you started? Or do you need a second to catch your breath?” 
“Oh I’m gonna ruin you–” Logan smiled as he jumped into action. Capturing your lips with his as he flipped the two of you around. Suddenly you found yourself on your back, pressed into the mattress. “You know how I feel about you, right?” It was a gentle moment laced between the lust and the desire. But when Logan caught your eye, so beautiful and kind, he wanted to make sure that you knew this wasn’t just sex to him. 
This was…You were… Everything he ever wanted. 
“I know,” You nodded, making sure to pull him closer. As close as you could get in missionary. “I’ve got you,” Was all you said back before your lips were taken hostage yet again. “I–” You were about to say it but stopped yourself. The L would be just something that wasn’t said that much. 
You knew it was because Logan was afraid to. He was scared if he said he loved you then he’d wake up from this dream. Back in the pub, he wasn’t welcome in. Back in his reality, where the version of you didn’t know him as the best worst version of himself. 
“You mean everything to me.” You settled with as Logan buried himself inside you. Not knowing that in nine months from now, your greatest love of all would carry your love for Logan in her name: 
Ilya: I.Love. You. Always
Ilya
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2amriize · 2 days
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˚⟡˖ RIIZE when you sleep on the couch after an argument
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ᡣ𐭩 masterlist genre angst, fluff pairing riize x reader
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ᯓ★ SHOTARO
You and Shotaro usually didn’t argue much, but sometimes you had small fights that really bothered you, especially since, even when Shotaro apologized, he wouldn’t admit that it was his fault. That night, you just didn’t feel like continuing the argument, so you grabbed your things and went to sleep on the couch in the living room.
It took you a while to fall asleep because it was uncomfortable, but you eventually managed. What you didn’t expect was to wake up the next morning to find Shotaro sitting on the floor, resting his head beside you while holding your hand. When he saw you didn’t come back to the bedroom the night before, he had come looking for you and found you asleep in the living room. Feeling guilty, he had fallen asleep on the floor beside you. The gesture touched your heart, though you felt bad seeing how he had slept.
ᯓ★ EUNSEOK
You were too stressed to handle Eunseok’s usual teasing. That’s why, before going to bed, you had a small argument because he said something that really bothered you, but he refused to apologize. Tired, you decided to end the argument by leaving the bedroom and going to sleep in the living room. Although it wasn’t very comfortable, you fell asleep pretty quickly.
The next morning, you were surprised to find breakfast ready on the table, with Eunseok sitting next to you, gently stroking your head to wake you up.
“Wake up, princess… I’m sorry about yesterday. I should’ve apologized. Did you sleep well? Do you want me to give you a massage?”
ᯓ★ SUNGCHAN
That night, you weren’t in the mood, but Sungchan didn’t notice and started tickling you and teasing you. You told him several times to stop, that you weren’t in the mood, but he didn’t listen, which made you angry enough to leave the room.
You decided to sleep on the couch because you were feeling too sensitive to handle Sungchan’s teasing that day. To your surprise, Sungchan came into the living room and stood there, watching you settle down on the couch, ready to sleep.
“No, I’m not going to let you sleep here,” he said as he walked over and easily scooped you up into his arms, carrying you back to the bedroom. “If you need to be alone, I’ll go to the living room, but I’m not letting you sleep out here,” he said as he gently placed you on the bed.
“Just… let’s sleep,” you said, opening your arms. Sungchan smiled and lay down, wrapping his arms around you.
ᯓ★ WONBIN
You were just about to go to bed when you and Wonbin started arguing over something trivial. The argument went on for a few minutes, but since you were so tired, you grabbed a pillow and headed to the living room to sleep on the couch. When Wonbin saw you leaving, he followed you like a lost puppy, asking why you were going.
“Where are you going, babe? I’m sorry… Don’t sleep here, please. You know I get scared sleeping alone,” he said while holding your hand, looking at you with those big puppy eyes you couldn’t say no to.
“You’re way too scared, Wonbin…” you said as you headed back to the bedroom, with him hugging you and smiling softly.
ᯓ★ SEUNGHAN
On your way back home after having dinner out, you and Seunghan had been arguing the entire time. The reason? Seunghan had watched the latest episode of a show you were watching together without you. It might’ve seemed like a small thing, but it really bothered you, so you argued all the way home.
When you got home, you went to your room, got comfortable, and headed to the couch, deciding to sleep there that night. Seunghan stayed in bed, thinking you’d come back, but after two hours passed and you still weren’t there, he got up and found you asleep on the couch. He couldn’t help but let out a sigh when he saw you.
“Ah… you’re going to catch a cold,” he whispered as he covered you with a blanket. The next morning, the first thing he did was apologize, and you watched the episode together.
ᯓ★ SOHEE
Sohee can be very proud, especially when it comes to winning arguments. Normally, you’d end up agreeing with him, and the two of you would laugh about it, but tonight, you didn’t want to give in. You wanted to see if he would actually admit you were right, just like you had done for him many times before. But no, even when you tried, he still didn’t give in.
It annoyed you a lot, so you decided to go sleep on the couch. Sohee was confused by your reaction and followed you to the living room to see where you were going. When he saw you lying down on the couch, he let out a small laugh, shaking his head.
“Y/n, is this because I didn’t admit you were right?” he murmured, crossing his arms. You turned your head away, ignoring him. Sohee sat down next to you, wrapping his arms around you.
“Fine… you’re right. In fact, you’re always right, y/n. Can we go to bed now, or are we going to sleep uncomfortably together here?”
ᯓ★ ANTON
Even though you had argued over something small during dinner, by the time you were getting into bed, Anton still hadn’t apologized or admitted that what he said was wrong. You gave him one last chance to apologize, but when he stayed silent, you got up and went to sleep on the couch.
It wasn’t comfortable at all, but you started to drift off after a few minutes. Just as you were about to fall asleep, you felt someone touch your shoulder—Anton. When you saw it was him, you sighed and turned away, but he let out a small laugh, trying to get you to turn back around.
“Y/n, don’t sleep here… I need to hold you when I sleep. I’m sorry for what I said, okay?”
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ᡣ𐭩 masterlist taglist: @regularsuh @gacktsa @totheseok @kkumistars @taroddori
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seungfl0wer · 2 days
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*𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒂𝒈𝒆 𝑶𝒊𝒍*
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Pairing: Felix x Reader (Fem)
Genre: Smut
Warnings: Oral (F), Unprotected sex (P in V), uhm I think that’s actually it? Sorry for any mistakes!
A/N: Listen- this has been in my head for awhile since he likes giving massages so please enjoy
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-🖤
Sitting in on your friends couch stretching as you watching him stroll back into the room. “Y/n get your feet off my table” he said pushing your feet off. You roll your eyes looking at him “come on I was comfy” you whined throwing a pillow at him. “Yeah I almost spilled my drink” he said throwing the pillow back at you.
He slinks down plopping right beside you, sitting his cup down on the table he looks over at you. Those pretty brown eyes smiling at you “wanna order or do you want me to?” He asks. You shrug looking at him “I’m to tried to think about eating, uh my back hurts so much today” you say moving forward trying to stretch out your back. “Didn’t you go to the massage place the other day?” He asks eyebrow raising. You nod with a sigh “yeah, it didn’t help much” you say hand rubbing the back of your neck.
“How about we order food and I’ll give you a back massage while we wait?” He asks looking at his phone scrolling on DoorDash. “Lix you don’t gotta I’m just complaining” you said with a grumble leaning back against the couch. “Y/n you know I like giving massages plus you’ve worked how much this week?” He said still just staring at his phone. “Lixie you really don’t-“ you started but was quickly cut off “listen you stubborn ass you don’t get a say so” he huffed handing you his phone “now order what you want”
You rolled your eyes at his words but looked over the food menu. He has a point though, you have been working a lot. These past few weeks you’ve had overtime almost everyday. You would have probably worked today if Felix didn’t call in and give some excuse why you couldn’t. “Alright here” you said giving him his phone back. He smiled as he placed the order “alright” he said with a clap rubbing his hands together. “Let’s go to my room so you can lay down and I’ll give you the best massage you’ve ever had” he said like some anime protagonist.
You rolled your eyes but followed him back to his room, you laid down sprawling out quickly “what if I just take a nap?” You said with a relaxed sigh. He shook his head though “nuh uh I’m giving you a message end of story” he said flipping you to your stomach. He quickly straddled your back before you could protest anymore. “Y/n just relax?” He said with a huff. He started to move his hands over your back putting pressure in places he felt knots. He let out another huff stopping his movements. “Can you take your shirt off?” He asked nonchalantly.
You chuckled a bit “Felix is this your way at trying to see some tits?” You teased turning to look at him. He smacked your arms teasingly “you don’t wear a shirt normally when you get a message” he says trying to defend himself as sweet pink blush decorating his cheeks. You nodded mockingly but you did as he asked. You took your shirt off unhooking your bra you don’t even turn as your breast free. His eyes go wide eye looking down then quickly away. You laugh “come on Lixie they’re just tits” you tease. “Just lay back down” he said still trying to avoid your eyes.
You lay back down getting comfortable again as Felix takes his position again. When he straddles you again this time you can feel that he’s semi hard. His cock laying in between your ass checks. The feeling made you bite your lip a bit head spinning a bit. You moved back a bit pushing your ass again him. Felix’s eyes flutter a bit “are- are you comfortable?” He said coughing to clear his throat. You nod putting your head down hiding the grin plastered on your face. You can feel him getting harder, the way he’s positioned so close to your cunt is driving you crazy.
Felix leans forward pushing himself against you more as his hands push on your back. You leave out a soft groan at the pressure but also at the feeling of him. God you could feel yourself becoming soaked your head filling with scenarios making you even more turned on. You pushed back more making Felix moan a bit his hands gripped at your sides trying to steady himself. “Y/n.. stop moving” he said breathily. You didn’t listen though you moved your body back against his again letting out a soft moan at the feeling of him.
Felix’s hands gripped at your hips, his head falling back a bit at the friction. He was fully hard now cock nestled so perfectly against your ass. As you moved again you were met with Felix pushing forward as well. You both let out a groan at the feeling. He leaned down towards your his body pressing softly against yours. He moved against you grinding his cock against your plush ass moaning into your ear. He left a soft kiss to your shoulder before leaning back up. “Y/n..” he said softly. You looked back at him his eyes full of need but so was yours.
“Let me.. let me help you in another way” he said with a stutter. He moved you pulling your body at the edge of the bed. Legs coming to the ground as he looks at you asking for permission. You nod hooded eyes watched him as he pulled your pants down with your panties. His eyes locked on your heat your cunt glistened with lust. “T-tell me to stop if you’re uncomfortable” he said eyes fluttering back to yours. You give another nod and that’s all he needed. He moved down getting on his knees as he gripped your ass spreading you apart for him. He kissed and nipped at your skin as he made his way to your cunt.
He licked a long line up your cunt, clit to hole making you groan. His eyes rolled back at the heavenly taste of you. Swiftly he moved to eating you out like a ravenous animal. His hand coming up to play with your clit as he tongue fucked you. Your legs shook around him as you let out moans making his cock twitch. “God y/n you sound as good as you taste” he said his voice deep. He sounded as if he was almost drunk “I bet you feel just as good” he groaned. He pushed a finger into you making your body jolt forward. He quickly added another pumping his them in you curling them as he hit your spots.
“Lix- gonna- fuck ima cum” you say gripping the sheets feeling your orgasm so close. “Can- can we cum together? I know I’m not gonna last long please- I need inside you wanna cum with you” you babbled out. “Yes fuck lix please fuck me, wanna cum around your cock” you whined out. Felix stood up behind you dropping his pants around his feet before lining himself at your entrance. His tip kissed at your hole before pushing deep inside you. You both moaned so loudly you think the house shook.
The feeling of his girth inside you stretching you so well as you bottomed out. He let his body lay against yours as he wrapped his arm around you before moving. His thrusts were sloppy chasing both of your highs at this point. One of his hands found your breast the other playing with your clit. He pushed deep inside you moving as you felt his cock drag against your walls. You’ve always thought lix was attractive and maybe you’ve thought about this before. For it to be happening though? Was crazy to you.
It felt right though, it felt like your cunt was made for him. Molded to him like he was a key fitting in so perfectly. His cock hit your g-spot making you almost scream his name. “Ah- fuck y/n I- fuck I’m close” he said his movements becoming faster. His hand at your clit moved more circling perfectly making your legs shake. “Lix of fuck lix please right there fuck don’t stop- gonna fuck gonna cum!” You blurted out. And he didn’t. He didn’t stop till you were seeing stars cuming hard around his cock as he road out your high he pulled out cumming all over your lower back.
It took you both a few minutes to catch your breath before Felix leaned down moving your hair kissing your neck softly. “I’m definitely more relaxed now” you said laughing a bit making him laugh too. “I’m glad” he said grabbing a towel to clean you up he grabbed one of his shirt handing it to you. His eyes widen “shit our foods been sitting outside I hope no one stole it!” He said rushing towards the door making you laugh.
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵
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Taglist: @satosugu4l @do-you-remember-summer-127 @xines16 @minh0scat @troublemaker02 @tr-mha-fan @lunearta
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avcdgrdn · 1 day
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── .✦ [ FIC ]: can i really stay here? [ part two ]
[ a continuation of part one ]
mullet stanley pines x innkeeper reader
tags: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, sfw
word count: 1875
˙✧˖° ༘ ⋆。˚
in any other circumstances, you wouldn’t even dare to imagine holding a man you had just met the same day.
but stan … was different.
when your eyes first locked with his from across the counter, you could tell that he was hurting, and badly. he was trying so hard to cover it up, and it worked for the most part — after all, up until now, nobody had cared about him enough to see through his facade.
but you saw straight through him. and not only that, you actually did something about it. you offered to care for his needs, at your own expense.
his father only ever saw him as an expense.
so, there you were, sitting at the bar, holding onto the maroon fabric of his jacket as he trembled like a leaf.
the scent of cigarette smoke and pine needles was strong in your nose as he buried his face into your shoulder. you could feel his stubble scratching against your skin.
there was a part of you that wanted to speak up and comfort him, but ultimately you decided against it. you didn’t quite know enough about him to be able to speak to his situation.
after a few minutes, stan seemed to be calming down. his breathing became even, although he was still clinging onto you tightly.
“i …”
his voice was cracked and raspy.
“i … screwed up. i don’t … know how i’m gonna fix it.”
your brow furrowed as you listened to him.
“y’know, stan … i don’t know what you’re going through. but can you do me one favor?”
“... yeah?”
“look at me.”
slowly, the brunet lifted his head, pulling himself back just enough to be able to look at you. his eyes were red and puffy, but his gaze was sincere.
you looked back at him, determined. “i’m gonna help you out.”
stan didn’t know how to react. he swallowed a lump in his throat, scanning your face as if to check whether you were lying to him or not.
“... you don’t … hafta do that. i brought it on myself—”
“i don’t care.”
his eyes widened.
“if i can keep somebody from a worse fate, then i’ll do it. let me give you a place to stay, even if it’s just for a little while.” you smiled warmly, squeezing his arm for emphasis. “you shouldn’t have to feel like your life means nothing.”
“… you’re an angel.”
those words made you blush. “i–i wouldn’t say that—”
uh-oh, he’s smirking now. chuckling lowly, he let go of you so that he could cross his arms over his chest.
“what, are you tryna tell me you’re not sent from heaven? think about it. you’re saving my biscuits here, toots.” there was serious gratitude in his tone, despite his teasing. at least he seemed to be in a better mood. “i think i’ll hafta call you that more often, yeah? angel.”
you laughed nervously, trying desperately to distract yourself from your red hot face. “really? h–how interesting …”
stan snickered again, gazing at you for a moment longer with fondness dancing in his brown eyes. then, glancing at the wall clock, he realized the time. “damn, it’s midnight. i should probably stop bothering you ‘nd get to bed, huh?”
“huh, it is late … i should sleep, too.”
“then it’s decided. i’ll see ya tomorrow.” he hummed, standing from his seat and stretching out his arms before cracking a soft smile and turning around to walk towards his room.
you were left to watch him leave, your eyes following his footsteps as he made his way back up the staircase.
approximately eight hours later, you awoke to the sunlight gently filtering through your bedside window, causing your eyelids to flutter open.
the events of last night came flooding back into your mind.
i guess i’ll be seeing a whole lot more of him …
sitting up in bed, you yawned, rubbing your face sleepily.
“mm … what time is it …”
the alarm clock on your nightstand read 8:02 am.
shoot, i overslept—oh, wait. it’s my day off.
that little fact was enough to put you in a good mood for the morning. humming happily to yourself, you began to get ready for the day, picking out a comfortable outfit and a few accessories.
descending two flights of stairs, you wandered into the lobby of your inn, greeting a few different patrons and employees with a cheerful wave. it was breakfast rush hour for the kitchen, and you could catch glimpses of your executive chef running to and fro behind the bar.
he seems pretty busy today. maybe i’ll grab a bite to eat somewhere? hmm, but the question is where …
just then, your train of thought was interrupted by the sound of someone calling out your name.
you whipped around to locate the voice’s source, and there was stan, walking towards you at a leisurely pace. a radiant grin broke out on your face.
“stan! hey, good morning! how’d you sleep?”
raising a brow, he chuckled at your energy. “well, good morning, sunshine. i slept like a baby, thanks t’ you.”
“ah, don’t mention it.” you smiled, placing your hands on your hips. “i’m just glad you could sleep.”
the two of you looked at each other for a second.
why did his stare make you feel butterflies in your chest?
probably unimportant ………… right? yeah.
clearing your throat, you averted your gaze before you started to blush again. “so, um … have you had anything to eat yet?”
“nah. i was just about to, though.” to be frank, he had totally forgotten that he had access to breakfast until you just mentioned it.
“sounds goo–”
you paused mid-sentence, remembering something.
“actually … i was planning on eating out for breakfast today. would you wanna join me? since the kitchen is bustling and all …”
oh, wow. did you really just ask him out to breakfast? it didn’t hit you until after you had said it out loud that it could be considered that way. oops. was that weird? were you weird? augh.
stan had half a mind to tease you senseless for how cute that was, but after thinking about it, he decided against it. he wouldn’t wanna ruin his chances at having breakfast with you.
“you kiddin’? i’d love that.” he nodded his head, flattered and amused. “not many people can say they’ve had breakfast with an angel, ya know.”
your ears turned red.
i walked right into that one. darn you and your smooth talking …
“oh, let’s just go already.” embarrassed, you grabbed his wrist, pulling him along towards the front door. stan laughed heartily, allowing himself to be led.
it wasn’t long before you arrived at one of your favorite diners in town, known for their homey atmosphere and good breakfast. walking into the building, you were met with the smell of eggs, bacon, and coffee. the two of you breathed it in simultaneously, sighing.
“reminds me of breakfast as a kid.” stanley mused, thinking of the days when he and ford would poke at each other’s food and giggle. you smiled, watching his expression.
“c’mon, this way.” you beckoned him over towards the table you usually sat at, and a familiar waitress walked over to you as you settled in.
“good morning, loyal patron~ i see you’ve brought a plus one today, yes?”
“uh—yes. don’t go jumping to conclusions, though …”
the waitress grinned innocently. “of course. now, what can i get for you two?”
stan wound up ordering pancakes with bacon and eggs, while you settled on some waffles and a mug of coffee. you could have sworn you saw that waitress giggling to her coworker about something as she went on her way, but you shook your head to yourself in an attempt to ignore it. instead, you directed your attention towards the man sitting across from you.
“so, i’m guessin’ you’re a regular here?” he tilted his head, leaning back against his seat. there was a smirk plastered onto his face that you couldn’t quite decipher.
“you would guess correctly.” you hummed, picking up the salt shaker on the table and fidgeting with it absentmindedly. “have you ever been?”
a rumbling sigh escaped his lips.
“nah … i’m not exactly from around here.”
your gaze was trained on him. so far, he’s kept a laid-back demeanor, not to mention that little smirk that drives you insane—but you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was way more depth to his character than he let on.
“yeah? where’re you from?”
“...”
there was a brief silence. his chocolate brown eyes, warmly lit by the sun, stared into your soul.
“i’m from new jersey.”
your eyebrows shot up. “from jersey? wow … you’re far from home, then.”
“it’s not home anymore.”
you opened your mouth to say something, but closed it again. stan was staring out the window, a frown creasing his face.
“i … sorry. sensitive topic?”
he turned back to you, a faint blush appearing on his face. “uh … well, yeah, i guess … it’s okay.”
“come again?”
“... it’s, uh—i–i’m okay, if it’s you.”
he was a darker shade of red now, scratching awkwardly at his stubble. he felt so … vulnerable. but somehow, he was okay with it.
at that moment, the waitress came back with plates of food. “order up!”
you watched as you were served, salivating as you saw golden waffles covered in butter and syrup smiling up at you. it didn’t take long for the both of you to start digging in.
“... wow.” after the first few bites, stan had stars in his eyes. “it tastes just like ma’s.”
“was your mom a good cook?”
he snorted. “well, she wasn’t exactly a michelin star chef, but she could make some damn good flapjacks. at least, i sure thought so.” putting another forkful of pancake into his mouth, he chewed thoughtfully. you simply propped your head on one hand, watching.
“i always told her she could sell ‘em for a fortune.”
his tone was soft with nostalgia.
“she just laughed. prob’ly cause i was five when i told her that.”
“they must’ve been really something, huh?”
“they were. all my life, i dreamt of selling somethin’ as good as that. i haven’t stopped trying, either.”
he scoffed.
“most of ‘em have been a bust.”
you hummed softly in understanding.
“you’re still trying, though. that’s worth more than any failed effort.”
he looked up from his plate. “... you think so?”
“sure i do.” lifting your mug, you took a sip of coffee. “perseverance is worth a lot.”
stan could barely handle your uplifting words. his heart was squeezing in his chest. covering his flustered face with one hand, he leaned against the table, grumbling.
“... an angel … God sent an angel.”
“what?”
“what? nothing.”
a few hours later, you were walking side by side back to the inn. stan couldn’t help but admire the way the fall breeze tousled your hair, and the gentle smile on his face was speaking his thoughts out loud.
he’d never known that somebody this beautiful could even exist.
maybe ...
maybe he hasn’t hit rock bottom quite yet.
end
author's note:
thank you for all the love on this fic !!! :D
part three ....????? any part three hopefuls out there?
i gotta keep cooking.
if you have any fic or headcanon requests, hit up my askbox! <3
tag list: @icouldntthinkofanythingclever @seahorrorz @blustalker @hay-needle @phanmai1002
108 notes · View notes
iamtired10 · 2 days
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COMFORT
— ★ fluffy Headcanons 😮‍💨
pairing - newjeans members x female reader
synopsis - what they’d do to comfort you when you're dealing with cramps, mood swings, or just the whole period thing.
warning - period talk, soft fluff.
a/n - trying to survive, but here we are. and big thanks to @miana-bunnies for the HUGE list of ideas! this one’s from ur suggestions (LOVE YOU BRO!)
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minji (kim minji)
minji is the girlfriend who has every detail of your period memorized.
she knows when it’s coming, your cravings, the mood swings—everything.
so when she sees you curled up on the couch with a pillow squished to your stomach, she’s already on it.
without a word she disappears into the kitchen and returns with a cup of your favorite tea and a heated blanket.
“here.. drink this, it’ll help,” she says, her voice calm and soft. she kneels beside you, gently wrapping the blanket around your shoulders like she’s your personal caretaker.
but when you start to tear up for no reason (damn those hormones), minji’s face softens immediately.
“oh no.. no, no, don’t cry, baby..” she coos, sitting down next to you and pulling you into her lap.
she holds you close, rubbing small circles on your back. and just when you think she couldn’t be more perfect, she pulls out your favorite comfort snack—a giant bar of chocolate.
“i know it doesn’t fix everything, but it’s a start, right?” she says with that soft smile that makes you feel like maybe, just maybe, everything will be okay.
she’d hold you in her arms for as long as you need, never once making you feel like you’re a burden for your mood swings.
if anything, she’s your rock through it all, quietly soothing you with her steady presence and soft touches.
minji’s your period angel.
hanni (pham hanni)
hanni has a different approach—she’s all about making you laugh through the pain.
the moment she sees your frown and hears you snap at something minor, she knows what time of the month it is.
“mood swings, huh? i gotchu, babe,” she’d say with a playful wink.
you’re sitting there ready to cry about how life is so unfair, and suddenly, hanni’s in the kitchen, rummaging around.
next thing you know, she’s walking out with a big bowl of ice cream and all the toppings in the world—sprinkles, chocolate syrup, whipped cream, you name it.
“okay, i’m gonna make you the world’s best period sundae..” she says, all proud.
you laugh through your cramps, even though you’re feeling miserable.
then, to make you feel even better, she starts doing silly dances and making goofy faces to distract you from the pain.
“is it working?” she asks with wide, hopeful eyes, like she’s desperate for your smile.
and when you finally crack a laugh, she beams like she’s just won the lottery.
even when your cramps hit hard, hanni’s there, offering back massages, snuggling up with you under a blanket, or just making you feel less miserable.
her goal is simple—to see you smile, no matter what.
danielle (danielle marsh)
danielle’s the girlfriend who immediately goes into care mode the moment you mention that you’re on your period.
she’s done her research—seriously, she probably googled the best foods and remedies for cramps before your period even started.
so when your mood swings hit, and you start feeling all weepy and irritated for no reason, danielle’s already making you something.
she’d come into the room with a big bowl of steaming hot soup. “i read somewhere that this helps with cramps,” she says with a sweet smile, offering you the spoon.
and if you feel too lazy to eat, danielle would happily feed you herself, all while peppering your forehead with gentle kisses between each spoonful.
when your emotions start overwhelming you, and you feel like bursting into tears over the smallest thing, danielle’s arms are instantly around you, cradling you close. “it’s okay.. let it out, baby.. i’m here,” she whispers.
she’s so patient, never once making you feel guilty for being emotional.
and once your tears dry up, she’ll cuddle you up in a blanket burrito, sitting next to you and turning on your favorite comfort movie.
danielle is the queen of pampering you through the tough times, making you feel like a princess even when you’re at your lowest.
haerin (kang haerin)
haerin doesn’t say much, but she’s silently attentive.
the moment she notices your mood swings kick in, she’s by your side, giving you these soft, knowing looks.
she’s not big on grand gestures, but she’s got the subtle comfort thing down perfectly. when your cramps hit, and your mood swings are all over the place, haerin would quietly disappear into the kitchen and come back with something simple but effective—maybe a warm mug of ginger tea, or a plate of your favorite comfort food.
she’d hand it to you, and just sit beside you, her presence alone calming you down.
if you’re feeling emotional and overwhelmed, haerin wouldn’t try to fix it with words.
instead, she’d lay down with you, pulling you into her arms and resting her chin on top of your head. “it’s okay... i’m here, always..” she’d whisper softly.
her hands would run through your hair in soft, rhythmic motions, and the simple gesture would ground you, making the mood swings feel less intense.
haerin knows how to read you like an open book.
she knows when you need silence, and when you need her to speak, even if it’s just a soft, “it’s okay to feel this way..”
she’s like the calm in the middle of your storm, offering quiet strength when you’re feeling at your most fragile.
hyein (lee hyein)
hyein’s the type to panic a little when your mood swings hit hard.
one moment you’re crying about a sad movie scene, and the next, you’re snapping at her for no reason.
“okay, okay.. crisis mode,” she mutters to herself, running around the kitchen in search of anything that could make you feel better.
she comes back with snacks—like every snack she could find. “i wasn’t sure what you wanted, so i brought everything,” she says, arms full of chips, chocolate, and even some random fruit you probably don’t even like.
when you groan in pain from the cramps, she panics a little more. “do you need a heating pad? wait, do we even have one? i’ll make one! i’ll do it myself!” she says, rushing off to fix things like she’s on a mission.
even though she’s a little chaotic, it’s all incredibly sweet and you can’t help but smile at how much she cares.
once she finally calms down, hyein would sit beside you, nervously offering you some chocolate. “i swear i’m trying.. i don’t know what to do, but.. i’m here?” she says, her voice softening at the end.
she’d wrap her arm around you, and when she sees you relax into her, she lets out a breath she didn’t even know she was holding.
hyein might be young, but she’s always trying her best to make you feel loved, and in moments like this.
it’s all that matters.
89 notes · View notes
kiwriteswords · 11 hours
Text
And then I go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like, "I love you."
AN: Since you guys seem to like the Shy!Reader drabbles!
Other Writing | Ao3
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Shy!Fem!Reader!
Word Count: 5.2k
Rating: Everyone
TW: shy!reader, alcohol mention
Five times you were shy around Aaron Hotchner because of your underlying feelings for him + one time, Aaron Hotchner was shy around you because of his underlying feelings for you.
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one.
The office was unusually quiet, save for the occasional rustle of papers and the soft hum of computers. The rest of the team was out in the field, leaving just you and Aaron Hotchner behind to finish reviewing the case files for the next briefing.
You glanced at the clock. It was just after 6 p.m. Most people would be winding down their day, but for the BAU, the hours always seemed to blend together. Of course, you didn’t mind—working with the best agents in the FBI was an honor, but working directly under Aaron Hotchner, your team leader and a respected figure in the bureau? That was something else entirely.
And today, you were supposed to help him with the case files for the recent kidnapping case. Alone.
“Ready?” His deep voice pulled you from your thoughts, and you nearly jumped. You didn’t have the time to dissect why this man--your boss, made you feel this way. As if every time he looked at you, it felt like he could see things differently--more than anyone else. You felt a level of exposure you were not quite used to. It wasn’t bad, no. Just made you feel sort of funny inside. 
“Uh, yes, yes, sir. Just—just a second.” You scrambled to gather your papers, your hands suddenly clammy as you fumbled with the file in front of you. Great start, you mentally scolded yourself.
You could feel his eyes on you, calm and patient, as you tried to compose yourself. Hotch, with his sharp features and intense gaze, sat down beside you at the long conference table, his presence commanding even though he said nothing. As usual, he was dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, tie still impeccably knotted despite the long day.
He always looked so put together, so composed, and here you were, barely able to keep from dropping the entire file on the floor.
And that was the thing about Aaron Hotchner’s microscope; it was never him purposefully looking at you--through you with judgment. Just through a different lens, you could feel it. 
“Okay,” you breathed out, finally opening the folder and staring at the first page, willing yourself to focus. But of course, all you could focus on was him sitting beside you, his arm brushing ever so slightly against yours as he leaned in to review the documents.
Hotch’s voice broke the silence again. “I noticed some inconsistencies in the witness statements,” he said, pointing at a section in the report. You could feel the heat radiating off him, the proximity making your heartbeat quicken.
“Right, um, inconsistencies. Yes, I—I saw those too,” you stammered, your voice just a little higher than usual. You could feel your cheeks burning. Pull it together.
As you reached to turn the page, your fingers trembled slightly, and the edges of the papers crinkled under your grip. You cursed yourself internally. He’s going to think I don’t know what I’m doing.
Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Hotch glance at you. His brow furrowed, not in frustration, but in something softer—concern, maybe? Before you could stop yourself, you began speaking too fast, trying to fill the silence.
“I mean, the statements are definitely off, like you said. I was just thinking, you know, we could um, cross-check them against the surveillance footage from the convenience store and maybe, uh, match the timestamps, because—well, um, obviously, you’ve probably already thought of that, but I just thought…”
You trailed off when you realized Hotch wasn’t looking at the file anymore. He was looking at you. And oh god, that made things so much worse. You felt the tips of your ears burning now, and you quickly looked down at the paper in front of you, pretending to reread the same line over and over just to avoid his gaze.
“You’re doing fine,” Hotch said softly, his voice cutting through your spiraling thoughts.
You looked up, blinking in surprise. His expression was calm, reassuring even, as though he could sense how flustered you were. For a moment, you thought you saw the tiniest hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
“I—thanks,” you managed to say, your voice barely a whisper. You bit your lip, cursing yourself for sounding so meek. This was Aaron Hotchner—your boss, your colleague. And yet, here you were, acting like a nervous schoolgirl with a crush.
Well, because you did have a crush. A big one. A ridiculous, all-consuming crush that you had been battling for months now. And being this close to him, feeling his presence so close—it was like your brain short-circuited every time. His cologne, his energy--everything that surrounded your senses was just like a drug making your brain work in ways it really shouldn’t be when you have a job to do.
Hotch nodded, his attention returning to the file in front of you, but the moment didn’t pass unnoticed. The air between you felt different now--lighter. As if he understood, on some level, that your nerves weren’t because of the case, but because of him. 
You worked in silence after that, the tension slowly ebbing away. But every now and then, you caught him glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, as if he was still watching, still noticing.
And for the first time, you let yourself wonder if maybe, just maybe, Aaron Hotchner noticed you too.
two.
It had already been a morning and a half. The team had gathered for a debrief, with everyone scattered around their desks reviewing the latest case notes. You felt the weight of exhaustion after the last long night, and from the looks of it, so did everyone else. It was natural for these long hours to catch up to you all eventually. 
“Coffee run?” you asked, glancing around at the others. JJ and Spencer immediately nodded, followed by Morgan flashing you a grateful smile.
“I could use about three cups,” Emily quipped, massaging her temples.
You smiled back and quickly made your way to the break room. As you stood by the machine, the familiar hum of it brewing filled the room. You glanced at the lineup of mugs in your arms, including the one you had specifically set aside for Hotch. His was easy to pick out—simple, just like the man himself.
For some reason, even the simple act of grabbing coffee for him made you feel jittery. Maybe it was because of the way he always carried himself—calm, collected, completely in control. Or maybe it was the way he looked at you, like he was always assessing, always paying attention.
Or maybe it was because you had the world’s most inconvenient crush on your boss.
You sighed and shook your head. It's just coffee. Be normal.
When the machine finally finished, you loaded the cups and returned to the bullpen. As you handed the team their drinks, your nerves started to build as you approached Hotch’s office. His door was slightly ajar, and through the gap, you could see him typing away on his computer, his brow furrowed in concentration.
You knocked softly, pushing the door open a little wider. “Coffee?”
Hotch glanced up, his eyes softening for a brief moment as he saw you standing there, juggling the last two mugs. “Thank you,” he said, his voice warm but as professional as always.
You stepped forward, holding out his cup. “Uh, here,” you said, your voice coming out a little I quickly. As he reached for it, your fingers accidentally brushed against his.
The contact was fleeting but sent a jolt through your whole body. Your breath hitched, and suddenly, you were hyper-aware of how close he was. Your heart thudded against your ribcage, and you swore he must have heard it. You tried to ignore how your hand trembled slightly, but it was impossible with Hotch standing right there.
For a second, he didn’t move. His gaze flickered down to your hand, then back up to meet your eyes, and you could have sworn there was a flicker of amusement in his expression as if he was beginning to catch on to the hold he had over you. He took the cup from you carefully, his touch deliberate and slow. 
“Thank you,” he repeated, but this time, there was something softer in his tone. His lips curved ever so slightly—a small smile, barely noticeable if you weren’t paying attention, but you were. You always were.
You felt heat rise to your cheeks. Why am I such a mess around him?
“Oh—uh, no problem,” you managed to stammer, suddenly unable to look him in the eye. You took a step back, desperate to escape before you embarrassed yourself further. “Enjoy your coffee, Hotch.”
You turned to leave, feeling your face burn with embarrassment. Behind you, you heard him chuckle softly—a rare sound, one that sent another rush of heat through you. You could only hope he didn’t notice how flustered you were. But then again, judging by that tiny smile, he already had.
three.
A grueling case with long hours and high tension called for alcohol and camaraderie. When Rossi suggested they all unwind at a nearby bar after wrapping things up, no one argued. The idea of a drink and a few hours of normalcy was too tempting to pass up--and much needed.
You found yourself sitting at a long table with the rest of the team, squeezed between JJ and Hotch. Normally, that would have sent your nerves into overdrive, but after the first glass of wine—and then the second—you felt your anxiety loosen just a bit. Just enough to breathe without overthinking every little move you made next to him.
The conversation flowed easily around you, with Morgan and Garcia trading playful banter while Spencer tried to argue some statistic about criminal behavior. You laughed along, but every time Hotch spoke, your focus snapped to him. You couldn’t help it. It was like your mind was on high alert every time he addressed the group, or worse—you directly.
“Good work on the case,” he said at one point, turning to you with that intense gaze of his. “You managed the witness interviews really well. I think it made a difference.”
Your heart lurched. He was complimenting you—praising your work in front of the whole team. The sudden attention made your pulse quicken, and you could feel your face heating up despite the buzz from the drinks.
Before you could stop yourself, the words just spilled out.
With a slightly bolder tone than you usually used around him, you turned to face him fully, giving him a playful smile. “Well, maybe I just wanted to impress you, Hotch.”
The second the words left your mouth, you realized how bold they sounded. You raised your glass slightly, locking eyes with him for a moment longer than necessary. You’d just flirted with your boss. There was no going back now.
Hotch blinked, momentarily caught off guard, but then a slow smile—rare but devastating—appeared on his face. “Is that right?” he replied, his voice low and most definitely amused. 
Your heart practically stopped, but before you could spiral too much, JJ leaned over with a laugh. “Well, someone’s confident tonight.” 
You hadn’t even realized that not only did you flirt with Hotch, but you happened to do it in front of your coworkers--your profiling coworkers. Ones that were well-trained and versed in all sorts of fucked up psychology that “having an apparent crush on your older boss” would fall under. 
The moment passed quickly, and the conversation shifted again, but your head was spinning. The buzz from the drinks had officially worn off, leaving you hyper-aware of everything. You spent the rest of the night trying to avoid looking directly at Hotch, hoping that maybe—just maybe—he hadn’t taken your words too seriously.
By the time you walked into work the next morning, the weight of what happened at the dinner hit you full force. I flirted with Hotch. The realization felt like a brick sinking in your stomach.
You avoided his office all morning, burying yourself in paperwork and case files. Every time someone walked past your desk, you jumped, paranoid that it would be him coming to say something—anything—about last night.
Why did I have to say that? What was I thinking?
By midday, you were a ball of nerves. Every interaction with Hotch now felt loaded, as if you were walking on a tightrope. When he passed by your desk and gave you a small nod of acknowledgment, you nearly knocked your coffee over, your hands trembling as you tried to act casual.
You could still feel the burn of embarrassment every time you remembered how easy the words had slipped out. And the worst part? He hadn’t seemed uncomfortable at all. If anything, he had smiled. That tiny, knowing smile that you couldn’t get out of your head.
Later, when you were both in the conference room, going over case files, the tension felt unbearable. You barely managed to string together coherent answers every time he asked you a question, your brain too busy screaming Don’t be awkward.
But even in your shyness, you couldn’t help but wonder if he remembered what you said. If maybe, somewhere behind that calm, professional exterior, Aaron Hotchner had actually been flustered, too?
four. 
Everyone else had left hours ago, but you were still there, finishing up some paperwork that seemed never-ending. The only sound was the soft clicking of your keyboard and the occasional creak of your chair as you shifted positions. Being the newest member on the team, you often double- or even triple-check everything, afraid it would be wrong. This cost you a lot of your spare time, but in fairness, what else did you have going on? 
You weren’t surprised that Aaron Hotchner was still there, too. He was always the last to leave, always pushing himself past his limits. It was one of the things you admired about him—and maybe one of the reasons you found it so hard to concentrate whenever you were alone with him.
You glanced at the clock. It was well past 9 p.m., and the fatigue from the long day was starting to settle into your bones. You leaned back in your chair, rubbing your eyes when you heard footsteps approaching. Before you could turn around, Hotch’s calm, steady voice cut through the silence.
“You’ve been at this for hours,” he said softly, standing just behind your desk. “Maybe it’s time for a break.”
Your breath caught in your throat for a moment. You hadn’t realized how quiet it was until his voice filled the space. His tone almost vibrating against your ears. 
You quickly straightened up, trying to act casual, though you could already feel your pulse quickening.
“Oh, uh, yeah… probably a good idea,” you said, a bit too quickly. You glanced up at him, and for a split second, you wished you hadn’t. He was standing close—too close—and the sight of him with his tie slightly loosened, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, sent a fresh wave of nervousness through you. Why did he always have to look so effortlessly composed?
Hotch tilted his head slightly, as if considering something. “I was about to make some tea,” he said, his voice low and calming. “Would you like some?”
Tea. Something about the simplicity of the offer made your heart flutter. “Sure,” you replied, smiling faintly. “Tea sounds nice.”
A few minutes later, Hotch returned with two steaming mugs. He set one down beside your stack of papers and took a seat in the chair next to yours. 
You quickly pulled your hand back, hoping he hadn’t noticed the way your breath caught in your throat. But of course, he noticed everything. That’s who he was.
“Long day,” he said quietly, sipping his tea and glancing over at you.
You nodded, trying to keep your thoughts from spiraling. “Yeah. Feels like the days are getting longer.”
Hotch smiled softly, a rare but welcome sight. “I’d say you handled it well.”
Your heart skipped a beat. Compliments from Aaron Hotchner were few and far between, and when they came, they always seemed to hit harder than you expected. You swallowed nervously, feeling the familiar heat rising to your cheeks.
“T-Thanks,” you stammered, looking down at your tea and willing yourself not to blush. But it was no use. You were hyper-aware of how close he was, the faint scent of his cologne lingering in the air. Every word you could have said stuck in your throat, as if your mind had gone blank.
There was a brief silence, the kind that felt charged with something unspoken. Hotch leaned back in his chair slightly, his gaze steady on you. You could feel it—his calm presence, his quiet strength—and it only made your nerves worse. How did he manage to make small talk feel so intense?
“You don’t have to push yourself so hard, you know,” he said, his voice softer now, almost gentle. “You’re already doing more than enough. There’s nothing you need to prove--you deserve to be here.”
Your breath caught again. Was he worried about you? The thought made your heart race even faster. You tried to find the right words, but they felt stuck. All you could manage was a small, awkward laugh. “I guess I’m just trying to keep up with you.”
Hotch’s expression softened further, and for a moment, you swore there was something in his eyes—something warmer, more personal. He didn’t respond right away, just held your gaze for a beat longer than necessary.
Your cheeks felt like they were on fire now, and you quickly took a sip of your tea, hoping it would calm your racing heart. But the silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable. If anything, it felt like a quiet understanding had passed between the two of you, something unspoken but undeniably there.
Maybe he put together all of the pieces and realized you were hopelessly crushing on him, so he had pity and let you be. Maybe he thought men made you nervous--but then again, he’d seen you all buddy-buddy with Reid or even Morgan.
As the minutes passed, the tension slowly ebbed away, but the closeness remained. Hotch’s presence beside you felt reassuring, yet it kept your pulse thrumming in a way that made you wish you could stay like this just a little longer. Even if it meant fumbling over your words, you wouldn’t mind.
five.
The overhead lights buzzed softly, and the air was thick with the smell of coffee. You were sitting at the round table in the conference room, papers spread out in front of you, piecing together a presentation for the case debrief tomorrow. Your focus was sharp, and for once, you weren’t thinking about how close Hotch was sitting. Well, almost.
Aaron Hotchner was seated at the head of the table, reviewing files and notes from his section of the case, his brow furrowed in concentration. The silence between you felt comfortable—until it wasn’t.
Out of nowhere, Hotch spoke up, breaking the quiet. “Your organizational skills are impressive,” he said, his tone casual but sincere. “I don’t know how you keep all of this together so efficiently.”
You froze, your pen hovering above the notebook in front of you. He complimented you--again. The words sunk in slowly, and you could feel your face start to burn. Why did he always catch you off guard like this?
“I—uh, thanks,” you stammered, suddenly feeling the need to escape. Your heart raced as you realized how flustered you must look, your cheeks burning under his calm gaze. You barely managed to glance up at him, but his expression wasn’t teasing. It was soft, warm even.
“I just try to stay on top of things,” you mumbled, pushing your chair back too quickly. The sound echoed through the room, making you cringe. You could feel your face turning crimson as you gathered up your papers in a rush, trying to hide your embarrassment.
Why did he have to say something so nice? Why did you have to react like this every time?
You gave him a brief, awkward smile and practically bolted for the door. “I-I need to get this to JJ,” you blurted out, even though you had no intention of doing so.
As you reached the doorway, your hand on the handle, you heard him call your name—soft but unmistakable. You froze in place, half-turned, not daring to look back fully.
“By the way,” he said, his voice still calm but a touch more serious. “You don’t need to rush out every time I give you a compliment.”
Your breath caught, and for a split second, you weren’t sure if you could move. There was no teasing in his tone, no sharpness—just a quiet, sincere warmth. And for the first time, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe, just maybe, Hotch noticed more than you thought.
You finally turned slightly toward him, meeting his gaze briefly. “I… I’ll try not to,” you whispered, your voice shaky but honest. Without waiting for a response, you slipped out of the room, your heart pounding in your chest.
And as you left the room, you heard Hotch chuckle softly to himself. It wasn’t cruel; it was amused, affectionate even. That only made things worse.
As you walked down the hall, the sound of his words still echoed in your mind, replaying over and over. You didn’t need to rush out every time he complimented you. And for the first time, you wondered what might happen if you didn’t.
+one
It had been weeks since the last case that left you fleeing the conference room after Aaron Hotchner’s casual compliment about your organizational skills. You’d spent every day since trying to keep your interactions with him as short and as professional as possible, but avoiding him entirely wasn’t exactly an option. You were part of the team, and your role often required working closely with him. That only made your constant nervousness more exhausting.
Every time he passed by your desk, every time he said your name in that calm, authoritative tone, your heart would skip a beat. The nerves were always there, simmering just under the surface. You weren’t sure if he noticed how flustered you got around him or if he simply chalked it up to work stress. Either way, it made every interaction with him feel like walking on a tightrope.
And today was no different after another intense case had finally been closed. You were finishing paperwork at your desk when you saw Hotch step out of his office, his eyes scanning the bullpen. The moment his gaze landed on you, your stomach twisted.
He started walking over, his strides purposeful. You tried to keep your face neutral, even as the heat rushed to your cheeks. Stay calm. It’s just work.
You looked up at him when he stopped before your desk, forcing a smile. “Do you need something?”
Hotch’s expression was unreadable, but something in his eyes seemed different today. Less intense, more… hesitant? “Can I see you in my office for a moment?”
Your heart thudded in your chest, and you quickly nodded, not trusting your voice. You grabbed your notepad, assuming it was something case-related, and followed him back into his office.
As you stepped inside, he closed the door behind you. The click of the latch made the room feel suddenly smaller--more intimate. You turned to face him, clutching your notepad like a shield.
“Is everything okay?” you asked, trying to keep the nervousness out of your voice.
Hotch didn’t immediately respond. Instead, he walked over to his desk, leaning against it, his arms crossed. His posture was relaxed, but there was something in the way he looked at you—something that made your pulse quicken.
“I’ve noticed,” he began, his voice measured but quieter than usual, “that you’ve been avoiding me.”
Your stomach dropped. He noticed. You hadn’t thought it was that obvious, but of course, this was Aaron Hotchner. He noticed everything.
“I… I h-haven’t been avoiding you,” you stammered, though you knew it was a lie. “I’ve just been busy. Lots of cases lately, you know.”
Hotch’s gaze didn’t waver. “That’s not what it feels like.”
You swallowed hard, your nerves threatening to overwhelm you. He wasn’t angry; his tone wasn’t harsh or accusatory, but there was a weight to his words that made your throat go dry. He uncrossed his arms and took a small step toward you, closing the gap between you just enough to make your breath hitch.
“I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he continued, his voice softer now. “But I’ve noticed how you’ve been acting around me. And I have to admit, it’s been difficult to ignore.”
Your heart was pounding in your chest, your mind racing. Was he going to reprimand you for being unprofessional? Did he think you couldn’t handle your job because of the way you acted around him? Would he send you off to report to someone different? You felt the familiar heat rising in your cheeks and wished you could disappear.
“I’m sorry if I’ve been… awkward,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. At this moment, you felt like a small child, “It’s just—”
Before you could finish, Hotch interrupted, his expression softening in a way you hadn’t seen before. “You don’t have to explain. I think I know why.”
His words hung in the air between you, and suddenly, everything felt different. You blinked, your breath catching in your throat. “You do?”
Hotch took another small step forward, his gaze never leaving yours. He was so close now that you could feel the warmth radiating from him. For the first time, you noticed the way his usually composed features seemed more vulnerable—like he was grappling with something inside himself.
“I’ve noticed because I’ve been feeling the same way,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
Your heart stopped. He feels the same way? Your mind struggled to process what he was saying. Aaron Hotchner, your boss—the man who was always in control, always so composed—was confessing that he had feelings for you?
You opened your mouth to say something, but the words wouldn’t come. Your thoughts were a tangled mess, and all you could do was stare at him in stunned silence.
Hotch ran a hand through his hair, an uncharacteristically nervous gesture that sent a ripple of shock through you. He seemed just as uneasy as you were, as though he wasn’t used to being in this position—being vulnerable. “I’ve been trying to ignore it for a while,” he continued, his eyes searching yours for some kind of reaction. “But…but I can’t anymore.”
The silence between you felt thick with unspoken words, with all the tension and longing that had been building for weeks, maybe even months. And now it was all out in the open.
“I don’t know what to say,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.
Hotch smiled—just a small, almost shy smile that you’d never seen from him before. He let out a soft chuckle, “Neither do I. This is… new for me.”
Your mind was still racing, but somewhere amidst the chaos, you realized that he wasn’t just confessing to you. He was just as nervous, just as unsure. For the first time, Aaron Hotchner—the man who always seemed unshakable—was standing in front of you, vulnerable and open.
You felt a surge of courage then, maybe fueled by the realization that this wasn’t one-sided. He was just as affected by you as you were by him. Slowly, you took a step closer, closing the remaining distance between you.
“I didn’t think you’d ever notice,” you admitted, your voice trembling slightly, though steadier than before. You took a breath, forcing yourself to keep eye contact, despite the fluttering nerves in your stomach. “I thought I was just… making a fool of myself. That you’d think I was unprofessional.”
Hotch’s expression softened, his gaze never leaving yours. He shook his head gently, his eyes filled with something you couldn’t quite name, something more tender than you’d ever seen from him before. “You haven’t,” he said softly. “Believe me… I’ve noticed everything.”
The weight of his words hit you, and for the first time, you realized how closely he’d been watching, how much attention he’d been paying to all the little moments you thought were only one-sided. A warmth spread through you, melting away some of the nervous tension that had been building for months.
The silence between you wasn’t awkward anymore—it was charged, yes, but it was also full of something else. Understanding. Relief. The unspoken truth you’d both been dancing around finally laid bare.
For a long moment, neither of you spoke, just stood there, the distance between you feeling impossibly small. You took a deep breath, your heart still pounding but lighter now, and offered him a small, hesitant smile. “So… what happens now?” you asked, your voice quieter, as if you weren’t sure you wanted the spell to break.
Hotch’s smile was subtle, but it reached his eyes this time, easing some of the tension in his shoulders. “I’m not sure,” he admitted, his tone uncharacteristically gentle. “But I do know this… whatever we decide, we don’t need to rush.”
His words were steady and reassuring, and for the first time in a long while, you felt like you could breathe. The uncertainty was still there, yes, but so was the certainty that you weren’t alone in this anymore. That the feelings you’d been so afraid of had been mirrored all along.
You nodded slowly, a smile tugging at your lips. “Together, then?”
“Together,” he echoed, his voice quiet but firm.
And just as you turned to leave, feeling the tension melt away, Hotch called your name again. This time, his tone was softer, almost hesitant. You turned back to face him, your breath catching in your throat.
“One more thing,” he said, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. “I’ve spent a lot of time noticing you. Maybe now… we don’t have to hide it anymore?”
His words lingered in the air between you, heavy with meaning. You swallowed hard, your heart racing again, but it wasn’t from nerves this time. It was from the hope that maybe, just maybe, this was the start of something real.
You smiled a genuine smile this time. “I’d like that.”
With that, you left his office feeling lighter than you had in months. And for the first time, the uncertainty ahead didn’t feel so daunting.
tag list:
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totowlff · 20 hours
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many fade, but i'm still here
➝ you kept your side of the street clean. they will never know what it means.
➝ word count: 2,2k
➝ warnings: mentions of health issues.
➝ author’s note: you can read the part one here.
The young man sitting in front of the reporters looked uncomfortable. Watching him from a corner of the Mercedes motorhome common area, you could tell he wasn’t at ease in that position. However, he needed to get used to the flashes, the clicks, and especially the attention directed at him.
After all, Andrea Kimi Antonelli was now a Formula 1 driver.
— Kimi, how do you feel being officially a Mercedes driver? — a journalist asked.
— It’s an incredible feeling to be announced as a Mercedes driver alongside George in 2025 — the young man replied in a measured tone — It’s a dream I’ve had since I was little, and even though I’m still learning a lot, I feel ready for this opportunity.
“Of course you do”, you thought to yourself, crossing your arms over your chest. The tests with Kimi had been numerous, with various types of single-seaters, all to make sure of what you had known since the day you first saw him in Lonato del Garda, back in 2018.
— I want to thank the team for the support they've given me in my career so far and for the faith they’ve shown in me — the young man added, scanning the crowd of people present. His eyes finally landed on you — If it wasn’t for the trust Y/N and Toto placed in me, I wouldn’t be here, living this dream.
Your lips curled into a smile as you nodded in acknowledgment of the new driver’s words. Handing him over to Mercedes had been a desperate move on your part, made in the face of Ferrari’s stunning refusal to bring Kimi onboard, contradicting everything discussed in the previous meetings before his visit to Maranello.
However, you couldn’t live with yourself knowing you had crushed the dreams of such a talented boy like Kimi. He deserved that chance, and if you couldn’t give it to him, let Mercedes be the team to do so.
— Toto, what are your impressions of this new duo, which we could say is the first composed of athletes from the Mercedes academy? — a blonde woman asked.
— Our new pairing is perfect to open the next chapter of our history. It’s also proof of the strength of our junior driver program and our belief in homegrown talent — the team principal replied, turning to the young man next to him with a smile — Kimi has consistently demonstrated the talent and speed necessary to compete at a high level in our sport.
Placing a hand on the driver’s shoulder, you noticed there was a certain pride in Toto’s voice, as well as in his expression. And, in a way, it was justified, considering all the energy and resources invested in Kimi’s development. Toto was seeing, right there in that room, that he had made the right choice once again.
— George, could you share your thoughts on your new teammate? — an older journalist asked, hand raised — What can we expect from this partnership?
— I’m excited to have him as my teammate. His results in junior competitions are impressive, and his promotion is completely deserved — the Brit responded — He’s a fantastic young talent and has also been part of our driver academy. I hope I can use my own experience to help him in this step into Formula 1.
“I have no doubt you will”, you thought, searching for Kimi with your eyes. It was impossible not to notice how anxious he seemed. His attention shifted between the two men beside him and the beaded bracelet on his wrist, almost tiny compared to the team watch. It was easy to forget that he was just an 18-year-old boy — newly turned 18, in fact — taking his first steps into adulthood.
The press conference continued smoothly, with the occasional light-hearted comment from Toto, clearly trying to help Kimi relax in front of all those people. But you knew it wasn’t easy, even for someone older and more seasoned in these environments, like yourself.
When Bradley wrapped up the press conference, you noticed Kimi exhale in relief, as if trying to release all the tension. As the journalists left the motorhome, you approached the young man, who was listening attentively to Toto.
— Nice answers, kid — you said, placing a hand on his shoulder. When he realized it was you, he smiled.
— Did I do well?
— Really well. A true Mercedes driver.
A little chuckle escaped his lips.
— I’m glad you liked it, Mrs. Wolff — Kimi replied, making your cheeks warm up.
— For you, it’s Y/N, okay? No ‘Mrs. Wolff’.
— Is there something wrong with my last name, Mrs. Wolff? — Toto asked, raising an eyebrow.
— No, I just think he should call me the same as always.
— Kimi’s just being respectful to my wife — he retorted, moving closer to you and slipping a hand around your waist.
It was still surreal to you. The night after the unexpected meeting you’d had at the hotel bar, you two had gone out for dinner. But, unlike what you had expected, Toto had turned the supposed negotiation for a position in the driver academy management into something more intimate and personal. The exchanged glances and suggestive comments had eventually turned into a kiss at the end of the night, as well as an invitation for another dinner, this time in Monaco.
It didn’t take long before you ended up in his bed, as well as on the Mercedes payroll. Maurizio had tried, but Toto had already convinced you to leave Ferrari behind and dive headfirst into his project, both for the young drivers and for your lives together.
The marriage was a natural step, taking place in an intimate ceremony in Sardinia two years later. Before Toto and a dozen guests, you became Y/N Wolff to the world. But that didn’t mean you had stopped being responsible for the boys and girls in the junior categories.
— Before that, I’m the development advisor for this team’s young drivers.
— Well, it was more or less at the same time — Toto muttered, making you shake your head.
— You’re not helping, Torger.
— Damn — he replied, causing everyone around to burst into laughter.
The conversation went on for a few more minutes before Bradley invited the four of you to head up to the terrace of the motorhome to take some more pictures and record a few interviews for the company’s official channels. However, while Toto was being photographed talking to Kimi, you felt your phone vibrate.
"Your results are available," read the subject of the email you had just received.
Pressing your lips together, you unlocked your phone and clicked on the envelope icon on the screen. There was a strange tension building in your shoulders, a sense of anticipation you knew you shouldn’t have, especially considering what the tests you’d taken were about.
The discomfort you had been feeling over the last few weeks had led you to schedule an appointment with your general practitioner before leaving for Monza. It seemed to be just a severe cold, likely due to the sudden temperature changes during your travels. However, he had you take some basic blood tests to ensure there was nothing wrong.
As you read through the sequence of complicated names, "normal levels" and "negative," one title made you roll your eyes. "Why a pregnancy test?", you wondered as you scrolled down. It was obvious that would never happen — the malformation in your uterus, discovered when you were a teenager, had ended any possibility of you having your own family.
Until a single underlined word made your heart skip.
You felt the blood drain from your head, leaving only the echo of your pulse pounding in your ears. Air seemed not to reach your lungs, no matter how hard you tried to breathe. Your legs felt weak, as did the rest of your body.
— Y/N! — you heard someone shout before everything went dark.
When you opened your eyes again, there was no sun or clouds above you, only a gray ceiling and a fluorescent light. On your left side, a man in a white coat, apparently a circuit doctor, was checking your blood pressure with a serious expression, while someone outside your line of sight was stroking your head.
— Where... I — you mumbled, trying to get your bearings.
— I’m here, my love, I’m here — Toto said, leaning in to look at you. His eyes were filled with concern.
You blinked a few times as your husband murmured something you didn’t pay attention to. The words you had read on your phone’s screen were burned into your mind, echoing back and forth in your head.
The doctor removed the blood pressure cuff and slung it around his neck.
— It seems to be due to the heat — he said, looking first at the team principal and then at you — It’s important to stay hydrated and avoid being outside during the hottest hours.
You opened your mouth to respond, but Toto was quicker.
— Yes, we’ll be more careful about that, won’t we, my love?
You couldn’t speak. You just nodded, still a bit dazed. The doctor also recommended getting you something to eat to help you recover, which Toto assured would be done right away.
After the doctor left the room, you stared at the ceiling for several long seconds in silence, trying to process everything that had just happened. Sitting beside you, your husband brushed a strand of hair away from your face, his worry still evident.
— Are you feeling better? — Toto asked softly.
— Yes — you replied — Did I faint?
He nodded.
— Everyone was scared. No one realized you weren’t feeling well before — the team principal said — If it hadn’t been for Rosa, you might’ve hit your head on the ground, and it could’ve been much worse, but the doctor said it was the heat...
Toto’s words were lost in the whirlwind of thoughts swirling in your head. Seeing him talk about what had happened, the care he was taking with the situation, filled your chest with something warm and familiar.
— It wasn’t the heat — you murmured.
— What? But the doctor said...
— Toto, I got the results from those tests I took on Monday.
He blinked, processing the information for a few seconds.
— Is it serious?
You smiled gently.
— We’ll find out in nine months.
The concern on Toto’s face turned to shock. His mouth dropped open, and he hesitated for a few moments before asking the question you had been waiting so long to answer.
— Are you... Pregnant?
— Yes — you finally said, with tears streaming down your temples.
A disbelieving laugh escaped his lips, his brown eyes shining with emotion.
— But how? You told me about your malformation, the nearly zero chance of conceiving naturally, the whole issue with treatment and risk...
— I know, I know, but I did the test and... Oh my God — you paused, trying to take in the enormity of the moment. After years of dreaming about something you could never have, trying to heal that pain with your work in junior categories, you were going to fulfill the desire that had so often brought you to tears before sleep.
— We’re going to have a baby, Y/N — Toto said, as if he knew the affirmation that was repeating itself in your mind.
Nodding, you placed your hands on your husband’s face and pulled him into a sweet kiss, just like everything that was about to come into your lives. A life of diapers, toys, and a love you had never stopped wishing for, not even for a second.
You were still hugging when you heard a knock on the door. After being invited in, a pair of familiar brown eyes peeked through the gap.
— Toto — Kimi said quietly. When the team principal looked at him, the young man hesitated — Are you crying? Did something happen? Is Y/N okay?
You smiled, sitting up slowly on the sofa.
— Yes, I’m fine — you replied, wiping your nose, sniffling.
— You’re both crying — he noted.
— It’s just that we got some news — Toto began, sitting beside you.
You noticed Kimi’s expression shift to something resembling concern, his lips pressed into a thin line.
— And what is it?
You and Toto exchanged glances with a shadow of a smile on your lips.
— Well, we weren’t supposed to say anything just yet, but I guess it’s okay if it’s you...
Kimi moved closer and crouched in front of you, resting an arm on the side of the sofa.
— Is it bad?
— No, dear, it’s not — you replied, looking to the team principal, giving him a cue to continue.
— It’s just that Y/N is expecting a baby.
His eyes widened.
— Sei serio? — he asked in Italian.
Nodding, you confirmed the news.
— Cazzo, that’s amazing! — Kimi exclaimed, breaking into a wide grin before pulling you into a tight hug.
— No swearing, Kimi — you said, pulling away from him — You know you can’t say things like that, especially now.
— Sorry, mamma — he replied playfully. Your nurturing attitude toward the junior drivers had never gone unnoticed by them. Your care and attention, even off the track, had made you a safe harbor, not to mention a maternal figure. It wasn’t unusual for one of them to be at your house, whether for a quick visit or a weekend before competing at a nearby track.
— She’s right, Kimi, you need to watch your language. You have to be a good example for the younger ones — Toto said, placing a hand on your belly — Especially now.
— I will, you can count on it — the young man replied, with the enthusiasm of someone who had just found out he was going to have a younger sibling.
And you couldn’t wait to see him embrace that role.
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violettwrites · 2 days
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new kid — tp!daryl
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a/n: hi besties !!! i hope you enjoy the little backstory on our fave duo 😌 if there’s anything you’d like me to write about these two, just let me know ! i’m also working on some tp!trio stuff including merle bcos those three are just chaotic.
if you enjoyed this, please like, reblog, and/or comment !
you can find my ask box here — which is open for requests !
summary: reader (11) moves into yet another place in another town, and isn’t exactly thrilled about it. that’s until they meet the quiet kid in the park.
warnings: allusions towards/mentions of abuse
word count: 1,166
resources: divider by @adornedwithlight
➸ tp!daryl masterlist
➸ regular masterlist
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it was mid june when you first met daryl dixon.
your father had just pulled his old pickup into the trailer park, kicking up a cloud of dust that hung in the air long after the engine had shut off. you stared out the window, eyes scanning the rows of faded, sun-baked trailers, each one looking as old as the next. your dad, already in a foul mood, grumbled something about going inside and “not making a fuss.” you knew better than to argue with him.
you had just moved here. not that it was much different from the last place. same kind of peeling paint, sagging porches, and rusted cars that never seemed to run. but little did you know, this trailer park would have one difference.
you didn’t know him yet, but you saw him the moment you stepped out of the truck. he was sitting on the steps of the trailer not too far away from yours, his small frame slouched like he was trying to disappear into the wood behind him. his hair was dirty blonde, a little too long, falling into his eyes. and his clothes were dirt streaked and a couple sizes too big for him. he looked like he hadn’t had a good meal or heard a kind word in a long time.
your dad noticed him too, but all he did was grunt. “tha’s will’s kid,” he muttered, spitting on the ground and making you grimace at the action. “stay clear of him. ain’t no good come outta that family.” you frowned, because as far as you knew, your father and will were friends. he was the reason your dad knew about this place.
you didn’t say anything, turning on your heel to make your way into the trailer. your new home for however long your dad could keep a job, or not piss off the park owners and get kicked out. it had been like that your entire life. and you were just a burden on his back— someone he had to feed and provide a roof over their head.
it had always just been the two of you. you didn’t know much about your mother— sure you remembered her a little bit. she stuck around until you were about four, but then she had run off with someone else. someone who had more money. someone nicer.
according to your father, she had always been selfish like that.
later that afternoon, while your dad was off drinking with some of the other men that lived in the park, you wandered out. you kicked at a rock as you walked along the dirt road in the park, feeling the dry heat against your skin. the kind of heat that made everything feel like it was moving slower. you saw daryl again, this time sitting by the edge of the lot.
without thinking too much about it, you walked over. he didn’t say anything when you stopped just a few feet from him, he just stared at you through a tangle of hair.
“hey,” you said, trying to sound casual, though your anxiety caught the best of you and your voice wavered.
daryl didn’t say anything, his eyes darting away like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to look at you.
you kicked the dirt again, feeling a little awkward but not wanting to leave. you looked back up at him, a small frown on your lips. “i’m (y/n),” you said, hoping to get something out of him.
“daryl,” he replied, finally glancing up at you. his blue eyes were sharp, like they saw more than they let on.
you nodded, not sure what else to say. you knew that look. you saw it in the mirror sometimes — the kind of look kids get when they’re used to keeping their heads down, used to trying to stay out the way.
“i think your dad is friends with mine,” you stated, hands shoved into the back pockets of your shorts, rocking on your heels.
daryl flinched— just the slightest twitch of his shoulder, but you saw it. he didn’t say anything, but you didn’t need him to. you could tell what his life was like. his dad, will, and your dad — they were all the same. angry men with heavy fists and loud voices. men you had to learn to survive around.
after a long silence, daryl finally spoke, his voice barely more than a whisper. “yeah. he is.”
you didn’t push. you knew that was enough for now. instead, you sat down on the ground next to him, the dust covering the back of your legs. daryl didn’t move, but you could tell he wasn’t as tense as before. the two of you sat there in silence for what felt like hours, the sun slowly dipping behind the trees, casting long shadows across the trailer park.
as the sky started to turn orange, you finally broke the silence that enveloped the both of you. “you wanna hang out tomorrow?”
daryl glanced at you, his brow furrowed in confusion, wondering why you would want to hang out with him. “why?”
you shrugged, picking at the hem of your shirt. “i dunno. ain’t got nobody else to talk to.” you looked at him, meeting those sharp blue eyes again.
he didn’t answer right away, but eventually, he nodded. “yeah. okay.”
that’s how it started. you and daryl weren’t the kind of kids who needed a lot of words, but it seems like you needed each other. you spent a lot of your days wandering the woods behind the park, throwing rocks at tin cans, and sitting by the creek when you wanted to escape the heat. you talked about your families a lot, but not your fathers. it was obvious what fathers who drank to much did, who hurt too much, who left scars deeper than anyone could see.
he’d talk about his older brother, merle, a lot. and you’d grimace at a lot of the things merle seemed to do. you were yet to meet him, but you weren’t exactly sure if you wanted to.
as the years went by, daryl became more than just a friend. he was your escape, your reason to keep going. you knew he felt the same, even if he didn’t say it out loud for a long time. you had each other’s backs in a world that seemed determined to keep you down, and that was enough.
even on the worst days, when your father’s temper flared and you were too scared to go home, daryl would be there, waiting by the tree line, ready to disappear into the woods with you. and when his old man came around looking for trouble, you’d do the same for him.
and though merle constantly teased the both of you, calling you names like lovebirds, you felt a little sense of security with your newfound family. it wasn’t picture perfect, but it mattered to you.
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