#NO BABY YOU WERE FINE WITH THE TIMEZONES | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dilemmaontwolegs · 9 months

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Irresistible || CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!reader Summary: A one night stand comes back to haunt you when your father plans to marry his mother. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, smut, cheating, time skipping, kind of taboo (future stepbrother) WC: 6.1k F1 Masterlist || One || Two

December 2019

Two years ago you had spent an amazing week in Monaco during a European getaway. It was meant to be a once in a lifetime trip but now you sat opposite your father at the kitchen table in your family home trying to understand what he was saying.

“…the kindest woman. You’ll love her, just like I do.”

He fell in love so now you were expected to leave behind everyone you knew and just start a new life with his new family. You knew he had been happier since the trip but you never would have thought it was because of some long distance relationship. He had kept that to himself for a long time.

“Can’t you just have a midlife crisis like everyone else?” you asked. “Why are you moving us across the world for a stranger?”

“Did you not hear me? Pascale is not a stranger. Please don’t make this harder than it needs to be. I love her.”

Resentment built and you pushed your chair back as you stood up. “You loved mum too, and look how that ended.”

Your father sighed and you immediately felt guilty for the heaviness in that one breath. It wasn’t his fault your mother decided domestic life wasn’t for her and left when you were just a baby. It wasn’t his fault that she met a man who had a motorcycle and flirted with the wrong side of the law. And it certainly wasn’t his fault that they crashed in a high speed police chase when you were 15.

You sank back into your seat and picked at the chipped Formica table top. “I’m sorry, dad.”

A calloused hand from a life of hard work gently patted yours. “It’s a big adjustment, pumpkin, but you said Monaco was a beautiful place. I thought you would be happy.”

“It was, but I’ll never see my friends.”

“I’m not saying you can replace them, but you’ll make new ones. And even with the different timezones I’m sure you can make arrangements to video call each other.”

He was making an effort, you could recognise that at least. “Fine. I suppose it won’t be that bad.”

August 2017

All of the streets seemed to look the same, the stonework buildings towering over you as the afternoon sun dipped even further below the mountains that bordered the place. You had no idea which way it was to get back to the hotel and you weren’t going to risk the international roaming charges to use the internet on your phone, you already spent most of your savings on the clothes in the bags that hung from your wrists.

You were too busy looking up and trying to get a sense of direction that you didn’t see the man getting out of his car. Pain flared in your knee as a door slammed into it and you dropped the bags to clutch your leg that throbbed and drew a groan from your lips. It was worse than hitting your funny bone and you grabbed the hood of the car to balance when you nearly teetered over.

“Mon Dieu, est-ce que tu vas bien?”

You couldn’t understand a word he said but the accent was almost enough to make you feel better, until you looked up. The setting sun cast a golden glow around the man and you swore he was more beautiful than the godlike statues you had seen in Rome the week before.

“I, I,” you stammered stupidly as he knelt down beside you and repacked the bags that had fallen to the street. His bright green eyes lingered on the red lace bra and panty set you had spent a small fortune on before he cleared his throat and shoved them in the bag. “I don’t speak French.”

“You should really be watching where you are walking,” he said as he stood up, his accent saturating his words and making the scolding sound sexy. And it was most definitely a scolding. “You could have been hit by a car.”

“I was,” you pointed out as you tested your leg and winced when you put your weight on it.

“I meant one that was driving past. It was a good thing I was parked.” He looked down his nose and shook his head. Somehow this stranger had managed to make you feel guilty for disappointing him, and it started to infuriate you.

“I really don’t think this is all my fault,” you snapped as you swiped your bags back. “This is a footpath, and that is a no parking zone. Maybe you should concentrate more on where you should be driving than how I should be walking.”

You narrowed your eyes at him and he did the same until his lip twitched and a smirk broke out. “You think I am a bad driver?”

You looked at the double yellow lined he was parked over and squared your shoulders. “Does a duck quack?”

He mouthed the question back before he understood what you were implying and laughed as he took a step closer. “I like you, you are funny, and delusional. What is your name, and what are you doing tonight?”

You were still trying to figure out if he had complimented or insulted you when someone called out and stole his attention before you could answer.

“Charles, dépêche-toi!”

You both turned to the group that had arrived, all of the young men looking almost as handsome as he did. They had to be from the same modelling agency, or there was something seriously strong in the water here.

“Well?”

You looked at Charles and found he was still waiting for an answer. “Probably still trying to find my hotel.”

“Funny,” he chuckled before waving his friends off. “Je te rattraperai plus tard.” He took your bags and stuffed them in the backseat of his car before offering his hand. “I can’t have you walking these streets all night, god knows what trouble you could cause.”

“I was doing fine, until you hit me with your car, and now you want to drive me in it? Nuh-uh, I would rather take my chances on foot.”

You stepped around him to get your bags back, or at least you tried to but your aching knee gave out. You would have fallen to the pavement but a strong arm curled around your waist and pulled you against him.

“You could have just asked if you wanted to hold me, biche.”

“Excuse me?” You pushed away from him and gritted your teeth through the pain. “I’m not sure in what world you think that is flirting, asshole.”

Charles threw his head back with a laugh and easily caught up to you, his palm heating the small of your back as he guided you around to face his car again “Biche, not bitch, it’s a cute little deer. I can call you Bambi instead, I quite like that. Unless you want to tell me your name?”

You rolled your eyes, unsure whether the endearment was an improvement at all, but stepped into the car when he opened the door for you. “No thanks, I don’t know if you are some sort of stalker.”

He laughed again before walking around to the driver's seat. “What hotel are you staying in?”

“The Fairmont.”

The flashy car roared to life and you turned to face Charles when his laughter grew. “So you would tell a stalker where you are staying but not your name?”

“That sounds to me like you are admitting you are a stalker,” you shot back with a daring arch of your brow. “Besides, I’m staying with a man that would snap you like a twig if you tried to turn me into a skin suit. I don’t have anything to worry about.”

“Your boyfriend?”

You snorted at the question and shook your head. “My father.”

He smiled at the news as he pulled out into the traffic and drove the short distance to the hotel. Your meandering had only left you two streets away from it so it was probably more of a nuisance to drive you there but Charles didn’t seem to mind.

“Are you enjoying the city?”

“It’s beautiful,” you said with a nod. “It’s almost a shame to leave tomorrow.”

“Have you been to Jimmyz?”

“Not yet.” You had heard of the club but most nights had consisted of a late dinner with your father and then bed. It was actually the first day you hadn’t spent hanging out with him, he had gone to get a haircut that was long overdue after all the travelling and you had used the alone time for a little girl shopping.

“You should come tonight, my friends and I are going and I owe you for hitting you with my car.”

January 2020

Your father thought it would be a good idea for Pascale to come and stay for a week before the big move. She owned a hair studio so it was easy to take some time off and she was due to arrive any moment. He had all but begged you to make an effort with Pascale before leaving for the airport. He had never brought a woman home, or at least while you were there, so it was strange to see how he fussed over the crumbs in the kitchen sink.

You did a quick final inspection through the house but with most of the belongings already sold or shipped off to Monaco there was next to nothing that could make a mess. You only hoped all your things arrived in time at the other end. It was bad enough you were going to be staying with one of your step brothers to begin with but it was only for a few weeks while the renovations on the new house dad and Pascale had bought were finished. He promised that your room would have a view of the ocean and your own bathroom - it was absolutely a bribe but you were fine with that.

The car pulled into the driveway, past the large real estate sign with an unmissable SOLD sticker across it. You had seen a handful of pictures of Pascale on your dad’s phone but when she stepped out of the car you realised they didn’t do her justice. Despite being on multiple planes that never made for a decent sleep, she looked refreshed and even her hair was still in a perfect blowout. She was really pretty, or maybe it was the bright smile she gave your dad when he parked the car.

“Do I look alright, Peter?” she asked as she touched her hair nervously and straightened her blouse.

“It’s not an interview, sweetheart,” he chuckled as he grabbed her suitcase. “You look beautiful.”

August 2017

The club was unlike anything back home. The music seemed to seep into your skin, the bass vibrating in your bones. Even the air was intoxicating with the promise of a night of bad decisions.

“Bambi, I didn’t think you would actually come.”

You turned away from the bar and found Charles drinking in the sight of your short, tight dress. His eyes followed every line, dip and curve of your body and he bit his lip as he dragged them back up to your face. For the price you had paid you were happy it had the desired effect.

With your confidence bolstered you sent him a smirk and grabbed your drink that had been placed down. “Well you did say you owe me, you can start with my drink.”

Charles didn’t look away as he reached into his pocket and stepped closer, his hand reaching past to slap a bill on the bar top. His scent reached you, the cologne inviting you to lean closer and inhale the decadence of vanilla and bergamot. “The usual, please.”

He could have stepped back while his drink was made but he chose to stay close, his eyes flicking down your cleavage to see the red lace set he had been daydreaming about all evening. “How about we get out of here?”

You had fantasised about a summer romance since the trip began, what young woman wouldn’t when they were going to Europe? But you hadn’t been able to conjure a face as handsome as his when you closed your eyes late at night and your hand drifted beneath the blankets. Now you had the opportunity in the palm of your hands and you weren’t going to let it slip from your fingers.

Tipping your head back, you met his green eyes that dared you rise to the challenge. “Lead the way.”

February 2020

You were jet lagged and exhausted when you finally reached your temporary accommodation.

“Charles is just on his way back from work but he shouldn’t be too far away. Make yourself at home, sweetheart,” Pascale said as she helped you with your bags.

The apartment was bare with mostly blank white walls and a few framed pictures of Ferrari cars. It was a typical boy space that was in desperate need of soft furnishings to liven it up, but that wasn’t your problem to deal with.

“He just bought the place so he’s still finding his ‘vibe’,” Pascale noted when she saw you eying up the empty space, the words sounding like they were verbatim and not her own. “But there’s two bedrooms and two bathrooms so you’ll have your own space. The builder said our house will be finished in a few weeks.”

“It’s great, Pascale,” you assured her as you set your bag down on the bed with a long yawn. You were surprised to find it had a floral duvet and a sheet set already made up - something you were sure she had done for you.

She nodded and placed your other suitcase down before leaving, closing the door most of the way. “I’ll let you rest for a bit.”

You woke to voices down the hall and found a blanket had been draped over you at some point.

“Can’t she sleep on Enzo’s couch? I don’t even know her, she could try to sell my things. There have been stranger things done before.”

“Ah-ah, no, and she doesn't even watch racing. Peter said she had no interest in the sport.” Pascale sighed heavily, the same way your father did when he was having to repeat himself. “She’s a lovely young lady, and she’s going to be family so please treat her as such.”

August 2017

“Where are we going?”

Charles just smiled and kept driving through the quiet streets before pulling into a hotel far nicer than the one you were staying in.

“You live in a hotel?”

He laughed and tossed his car key to the valet driver. “No, but I have a roommate who would probably not be very happy with me if we woke him.”

He already had a room and led the way to the elevators with the confidence of a man who had certainly been here before. You didn’t mind, you were hardly a saint, and you knew exactly what you were doing when you dressed for the night out. You knew how you wanted the night to end.

For a man who looked eager to undress you, like he had done with his eyes, he didn’t touch you until the door was firmly closed behind him. But once that door locked shut it was as if the leash he had kept a hold of himself with was dropped and he pinned you against the wall, his lips finding the hollow of your neck.

The temperature in the room seemed to swell as his kiss climbed higher and he finally reached your lips. You moaned at the feel of his hands roaming your body and his tongue slipped past your parted lips when he dragged the zip down your spine.

“J'ai envie de le faire depuis que je t'ai vu pour la première fois. You are so fucking sexy.” [I have been wanting to do this since I first saw you.] He stepped back and watched the material fall away to reveal the tempting red lace he had been dying to see.

Your heart skipped a beat at the hunger in his eyes and you reached behind your back to unclip the bra. It was thrilling to watch the colour of his eyes fade to black as you revealed more skin to him but when you reached for your panties he spurred forward to stop you.

“Mine,” he stated as he brushed your hands aside and hooked his fingers into the waistband instead. Falling to one knee, he dragged the lace down your thighs and let them tangle around your ankles before kissing your hip. Your head fell back against the wall with a thud as he nudged your legs apart and pulled one leg over his shoulder. “What’s my name?”

Your forehead crumpled as his breath warmed your cunt and you buried your hands in his hair to hurry him up, but he was too strong.

“What’s my name?” he repeated.

“Ch-Charles,” you stammered as his fingers teased your entrance without delving further, driving you wild with need.

“Good girl, remember that when I make you scream.”

The words left you drunk and you would have dared him to make good on them but his tongue found your clit and two fingers curled into your cunt. All thoughts left your head while he was knelt fully dressed before you and all too soon his name echoed across the room as he brought you to your first of many highs.

You could barely walk by the time you collapsed on the king bed and your head was spinning from the various positions you had found yourself in. You only bothered to move when a phone vibrated on the bedside table and you reached over to see if it was yours.

Giada: When are you coming home?

“Need a break, Bambi?” Charles teased as he returned from the minibar with a bottle of water, cracking the top off and offering it to you first.

You took the bottle with a grateful smile and swallowed a few mouthfuls to ease your dry throat. “Who’s Giada?”

His eyes flicked to his phone and he grabbed it, quickly replying to the message before tossing it aside and caging you beneath his body. “My roommate. Now, where were we?”

You should have been in a dead sleep but something had woken you. It was an ungodly hour given the darkness that was still outside but it did mean you saw the light of Charles' phone. His soft snores were silenced by the pillow he buried his face in and you took a second to admire the sight of his toned body in the moonlight.

Giada: It’s so hard to sleep without you here. I love you xxx

You slipped out of the bed without waking him and hated how good the ache between your legs felt because of him. You should have known a man like him was bound to have a girlfriend. She was probably a model.

You quickly gathered your clothes and dressed on the way to the door, closing it silently behind you. No one had to know you were even there and in a few hours you would be heading to the airport, never to see Charles again.

It took far longer than you expected to find your way back to the hotel and your father was already awake when you entered the room.

“You look like you had a rough night.”

You continued on your way to your bedroom in desperate need of a shower before packing. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Fair enough.”

You reemerged looking refreshed but you still felt contradictory inside. You told yourself that you did nothing wrong but it didn’t help when you knew there was a woman waiting at home for the man you had fucked. Fucked didn’t begin to cover what you had done - he had hung the stars and the moon, he had expanded your mind to the pleasures that could be sought with the right experience and partner. He had ruined you for all the men back home.

You fought to tug the zip of your suitcase closed, more than ready to leave the place behind, and growled in frustration. Your dad knew better than to bring attention to your mood but he gently moved you aside and closed the stubborn zip himself.

“How was your night?” you asked as you went to the kitchenette and made a strong brew of coffee.

He smiled to himself and picked up the suitcase to add it to the pile by the door but his smile dimmed when he saw how miserable you looked. “Nothing special, I just had dinner and a walk by the water.”

Normally you would have picked up on the lie, but you were too self centred to notice how happy he looked. He was glowing.

February 2020

You followed the voices to the living room and found Pascale in the doorway saying her goodbyes. You couldn’t see the face of the man she was talking to, only a head of dark hair, but he turned when his mothers attention was drawn away.

“You…” you breathed as you recognised the green eyes that had haunted your dreams for two years. Pascale frowned and you plastered a fake smile as you held your hand out. “You must be Charles.”

“I am,” he hummed as he looked at your hand before enveloping it in his much larger one. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”

“I’ll see you both for dinner tonight, Charles can drive you until we get you a car.”

Charles seemed to be hearing the news for the first time. “I can?”

“Yes, you can. Now make sure she feels at home alright, maybe introduce her to some of your friends.” Pascale blew a kiss and left Charles to close the door.

His eyes sparkled with mischief as he locked it and you realised at that moment just how fucked you were because, despite the quick prayer you had sent, Charles had recognised you too. “Hello again, Bambi.”

“Fuck me,” you muttered beneath your breath.

Charles smirked and booped you on the nose as he walked past you and towards his kitchen. “No thanks, you’re going to be my sister soon.”

You hated that for a second you were disappointed before common sense returned and you went to your room to find your phone. “Dad, I can’t stay here.”

“Why not?”

“Charles is an asshole, that’s why,” you whispered angrily, your eyes scanning the bottom of your door to see if he was eavesdropping.

“It’s only for two weeks, three at the most, plus he will be heading back to Italy for work on Monday.”

“Who the hell works in Italy and lives in Monaco?”

“He does, you would know that if you had a conversation with him and got to know him.”

“I don’t want to get to know him, I want to go home.”

“This is home now,” your dad said quietly as you heard Pascale arrive home at the other end. “I’ll see you at dinner.”

You flopped onto your bed with a groan as the call ended. Two weeks. Two fucking weeks. You groaned again as you realised that it may be just two weeks of living with him but there would be a lifetime of having him as your step brother. “Fuck!”

“I might have to get a swear jar to cover your half of the utilities.”

You surged upright and found Charles leaning against the balcony door, a balcony you apparently shared with his room next door. “Can I just make one thing very clear? As far as I am concerned, whatever happened two years ago - it didn’t. Nothing happened. I never saw you before today.”

“Nothing happened?” he chuckled as he walked into the room. “You still have that sense of humour because I remember a lot happening. Do I need to jog your memory?”

You hated how your body betrayed you, how your eyes followed his every step as he closed the distance between you. “You’re actually sick. Our parents are getting married.”

He stopped in front of you, his fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from your face and his eyes traced your lips. “You were gone when I woke up.”

“Giada wasn’t your roommate.”

“No, she wasn’t,” he admitted with that same smirk that simultaneously had you wanting to both slap it or kiss it away. “I have a new roommate now.”

“Not for long, I am gone as soon as the house is ready.”

“Oh, Bambi,” he laughed, swaggering his way back to the balcony door. “I wasn’t talking about you.”

“Asshole.”

“Biche.”

“Charles, you should introduce Y/N to Charlotte,” Pascale said as she poured another wine for you. “That’s his girlfriend. You would probably get along with her, she’s about your age and a very nice girl too.”

You bit your tongue as you raised your glass to your lips and stared at Charles over the rim. Placing the glass back down, you smiled sweetly. “Is that right? I could do with making a girlfriend here, someone to talk about boys with. Maybe she can set me up with a handsome Frenchie.”

A foot kicked you under the table and you chuckled at the glare he was sending you over the greek salad.

“We go to brunch on Sunday,” Pascale said with a pat to your hand. “You should come.”

“Count me in.” You stabbed a sweet cherry tomato with your fork before sealing your lips around it and humming in delight. “This was a delicious meal.”

Charles soon declared he was exhausted from the drive back from wherever it was he worked in Italy and Pascale looked a little disappointed that the first family dinner was cut short. Since he was your ride, you had to say goodnight to everyone too and followed him out to the car that was even flashier than what he had two years ago. His Ferrari fixation was more than just pictures of the cars in his apartment but he drove one too.

“You are quite eager to leave,” you noted as you lowered yourself into the passenger seat, your skirt riding up your thighs as you settled into the leather. Charles inhaled sharply as he saw the hint of your panties peek out and slammed the door shut before storming his way around the car.

“I’m in half a mind to take you over my lap and turn your ass red,” he growled as he pulled out of the driveway.

“Arthur is lovely,” you commented as you smiled at your reflection in the window. You were absolutely enjoying the way Charles gritted his teeth, but he had started this dance in your bedroom. “He offered to keep me company while you are away next week. I think I might enjoy his company more than yours.”

“Biche,” he warned as he broke the speed limit and practically skidded to a stop in his reserved parking spot. “You’re mine. No one else touches you. Ever.”

You slipped out of the car and felt his eyes on your ass as you climbed the stairs to the apartment. Though you had a key you waited for him to open the door and kept your voice low while he fumbled with the lock in his frustration. “Jealousy doesn’t look good on you.”

“Everything looks good on me,” he argued as he turned the key and shoved you through the doorway.

“Is that what your girlfriend tells you?”

“No, she prefers me with nothing on.”

You could understand why that was but didn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you agree as you went to your room. “Goodnight, Charles.”

“Night, ma biche.”

It was still early but you refused to leave your room, instead opening your laptop to watch a movie. You were halfway through a stupid rom-com when you heard a feminine voice in the apartment and you paused it to check you weren’t hearing things.

“Oh, Charles, bébé, baise-moi!”

You rolled your eyes at the sounds of the headboard banging on the wall you shared and rifled through your bag to find a pair of headphones. It seemed that they grew louder or you became hyper aware of what was happening in the room next door, and a needy throb began between your legs when you heard Charles moan deeply.

Your frustration built until you disappeared into the bathroom and doused yourself in a cold shower, cursing him the entire time you waited for your blood to cool. You could finally think clearly after drying off and recognised he was only making his next move in the game he had started. It was time to start planning yours.

Charles' steps faltered when he emerged from his bedroom shirtless but he recovered quickly and walked past your position on the couch as he went to get himself a drink of water.

“You should try Gatorade,” you suggested as you flipped through the channels leisurely. “I find it better than water after a good fucking.”

“What are you wearing?” he finally asked after emptying the glass in one breath and wiping his lips dry.

“This is how I sleep,” you said as you stretched your legs out onto the ottoman. “Is that a problem for you?”

His eyes followed the line of your legs to the edge of the black and red babydoll you wore and cleared his throat. “No, no problem.”

“Charles, who are you talking to?” A pretty brunette emerged from the room and scanned the room, taking in her half naked boyfriend talking to you who was barely dressed much more than him.

You rose to your feet before Charles could recover and bounced over to the young lady, wrapping her in a hug. “You must be Charlotte, maman’s told me so much about you. I thought I would have to wait until Sunday to meet you.”

“Maman? Sunday?” she asked as she looked at Charles for the answers.

“This is Y/N, my step sister - or soon to be -” he added quietly. “Maman invited her to brunch.”

“We are going to be great friends, Lottie,” you sang as you stepped back with a grin. “I just know it.”

Charles nearly broke his glass as he tossed it in the sink and headed back to his room, returning a moment later with a sweatshirt and jeans on. “Allez, mon amour,” he called to Charlotte as he grabbed his keys.

You pouted playfully as he led her to the door. “She can sleep over, I don’t mind - I have earplugs.”

Charlotte flushed pink and clearly had no idea you were in the house while they were getting down and dirty. It made it all the more entertaining as you waved goodbye. “I’ll see you Sunday.”

Charles waited until Charlotte had passed the doorway before following, casting a final glance your way. “Don’t wait up.”

You felt his presence in your room before you saw him step out of the shadows with just a towel slung low on his hips and the bed dipped under his weight. “Well played,” he admitted, flopping back and making himself comfortable.

Rolling over, you turned to face him and tucked your arm under your head. “Did you think about me when you were with her?”

His lips twitched before he gave in to the smile. “Every fucking second.”

“She’s pretty.”

He reached out and brushed your cheek with his knuckles. “You’re beautiful.”

You could feel yourself falling to the temptation that his lips provided and it was getting harder to resist taking what you wanted. “You should go back to your room.”

“Your lips say one thing but these say another,” he teased as his touch drifted over your collar and down to your breasts, the thin babydoll doing little to hide your nipples that had hardened since he laid down in the bed. “They are begging for something else entirely.”

“Charles,” you whispered as you leaned into his touch before you could think better of it.

“I forgot how good my name sounded on your lips,” he hummed as his hand slipped beneath the material, “but I like it better when you scream it.”

“This is a bad idea.”

It didn’t stop him from rolling your nipple between his finger and thumb and drawing a soft sigh from you. “Why is this a bad idea, biche?”

“Because you have a girlfriend, and you’re my step…step…fuck…” Your eyes fluttered shut as his hand slipped between your legs and he touched you over your panties.

“Let me worry about Charlotte, you just relax and spread those lovely legs wider for me.”

“This is going to end badly.” You knew it but it didn’t stop your knees from parting for him. There was something about him that threw caution to the wind, it had been that way the first time you met too. He was pure temptation. He was the apple and you were Eve, unable to resist taking a bite. “I’ll find somewhere else to stay.”

He bit his lip as he watched how your body danced for his touch. “But not tonight.”

“Not tonight,” you conceded as you watched his eyes darken with lust. “Now please fuck me.”

Charles woke alone for the second time after sleeping with you but he smiled when he heard music playing in the living room. “You stayed,” he teased as he walked down the hall, trying to tame his hair along the way.

“Didn’t have another option but I have found some short term rentals to view next week.”

He froze and his hands dropped to his side. “Wait, you were serious?”

“Yes, this isn’t going to work because if I’m anywhere near you this will just keep happening, and it was a mistake.”

The pop music suddenly grated on Charles' nerves and he grabbed the remote, changing it to another channel before tossing the remote away. You knew he was sulking at the thought of losing his plaything but you ignored him and watched the French news that you couldn’t understand.

Something on the tv caught Charles’ attention though and he sat up straighter, his arms unfolding as his mouth parted in surprise. The breaking news headline was one that was universal and you realised something big was happening.

“What is it?” you asked as he remained fixated on the tv.

“It’s that virus,” he murmured. You had seen it on the news at home before the move, the outbreak reaching all across the globe as it spread person to person. You had been worried about it on the plane with each cough you heard. “It’s spreading here.”

“Okay, and?”

His hand found its way to his mouth and he bit his nails as he listened, translating and relaying the information for you in sporadic bursts. “You won’t need that rental, Bambi.”

“Why?”

He turned to you with an odd look that you couldn’t quite figure out, possibly apprehension or anticipation or a mix of both. “At midnight tonight the whole country is going into lockdown.”

His phone started ringing almost immediately and he excused himself to take the call. “It’s work.”

“Shit, shit, shit.” You grabbed your phone and dialled your dad. “Did you hear what’s happening? What do we do?”

“Relax, pumpkin, it’s going to be fine,” he assured you. “It’ll all blow over quickly, I’m sure. They can’t stop the world from turning, can they?”

You laughed in agreement and felt a little better by the time you hung up the phone, but Charles returned looking stressed as he dropped onto the couch beside you.

“Good news or bad news first?”

You didn’t think it mattered either way and just shrugged.

“Italy is also going into lockdown so there’s no reason to go back on Monday.” He draped his arm over your shoulders and pull you into his side. “Looks like we are going to be seeing a lot more of each other.”

“Is that the good or the bad news?”

“Well, I like my job so not being able to do it is bad for me, but being trapped with you indefinitely certainly sounds good to me.”

“Indefinitely?” you laughed and shook your head. “As soon as the house is done I’m gone.”

Charles' laughter silenced you and his kissed your temple. “Oh, Bambi…The builders will be locked down too, nothing will be finished any time soon. You’re all mine.”

“Shit,” you groaned in realisation. It was going to be impossible to keep your hands off him and from the grin on his face he knew it too.

“This is going to be great.”

Click here for part two.

#charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #formula one imagine #formula one fanfiction #formula 1 fanfic #lando norris fanfic

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hwaightme · 10 months

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Timezone

(masterlist) (perma-taglist)

🎸 pairing: rockstar!fiance!seonghwa x gn!reader 🎸 genre: fluff, long distance angst, established long-term relationship 🎸 summary: "Only thing that keeps us apart // Is a different timezone" - TIMEZONE by Måneskin; during a long tour, the only thing seonghwa wants is to come home to you, and to hold you in his arms 🎸 wordcount: 3.2k total 🎸 warnings/tags: not edited, language, songfic, enamoured simping activated, seonghwa misses you intensely, he is one step away from swimming to you, seonghwa has tattoos and lip piercings, lyricist producer musician rock singer hwa good luck to us all, words of endearment/pet names (baby, angel... etc) 🎸 taglist: at the bottom of the hcs 🎸 a/n: this is for @starrysvn the most wonderful, beautiful soul. thank you for being who you are, ilysm. and may this small manifestation of our shared delulus bring some sunshine~

There was no salvation for a heart that was on the verge of breaking. No call could replace the sensation of a lover’s whisper, no video could replace the feeling of skin against skin nor of a warm and reassuring embrace. The myriad of details that made you who you were seemed to be slipping through Seonghwa’s fingers, and he was a desperate man drowning in quicksand of responsibility and routine.

Every chord was a strike of the coldest and sharpest blade on his tired body, and the sweat trickling down his face as he yelled his emotions to thousands masked the tears that were welling in his eyes. It was unbelievable, how in the faces of millions the only features he could ever make out were those that resembled yours. In every cheer he could only hear you, how you could make his name sound like magic. The lyrics – a simple selection of syllables, words, always fell short of describing how he felt, and every song appeared trivial compared to the fire in his heart, to your existence in his life.

Too many miles separated you, and he would be damned if he were to say that he was fine with it. This was the unbelievable curse of his work. An artist, a singer, a musical innovator who had evolved from being in a group of hoodlums with a dream to being in a star-studded collective, a band that was paving the way for many others and inspiring loyal and new fans to reach the stars with them. But where was his star? Even when surrounded by the speakers, side by side with his friends on those grand global stages, this question never left Seonghwa’s mind. Losing sight of what he truly desired, he ran into an oblivion.

After the concerts, it was customary for the young man to spend some time with his fans, still on an adrenaline rush and thus were expecting interaction, further connection, and insights into the most recent performance. However, tonight, he could not even begin to find the energy to press the right button. Claiming that he was feeling a little under the weather, Seonghwa delegated the role of publicity man to another member and hobbled to his hotel room, collapsing onto the bed sheets not caring for the state of his clothes, his hair, nor for the creases that were undoubtedly going to form. This was no issue.

The electric guitar, his trusted comrade in composition and emotional turmoil, was left in a black case on the floor. Stickers marking the cities he had visited decorated a portion of the surface, while the rest was another depiction of you. Scurrying off the bed, he erratically shot to the case and brought it up with him, letting it rest by his side so he could admire the artwork more closely. Over many days, you had decided to surprise him by painting the dark leather, echoing famous renaissance pieces and intricate flora. Impeccable, incorporating nods to his and your lives through symbolism, be it in the hint of a star ship, a guitar pick, or a paintbrush hidden in foliage, it was a reminder of a life that he always wanted to live and to keep close.

He wanted to destroy the walls of his room. He wanted to break the glass, fight the agony of the sorrowful monster eating away at his soul with physically radical action, anything to take his mind away from the fact that you were thousands of miles away, and that when he was cursed to be awake, you were in dreamland. He could not even protect you from the nightmares that you sometimes had. He could not keep you close. You were unable to run your hands through his inky black, long and tousled locks as a way to calm yourself. Why was he doomed to sacrifice the heavenly touches and sweet words in favour of roaming the globe like a madman, screaming the same things into a microphone until they lost all meaning? Seonghwa missed you. Violently. Painfully. Aggressively. If it took raising hell to elevate him to your heaven before he would ultimately crumble, he would choose to do so in a heartbeat.

His hands inadvertently travelled into the pocket of his flared jeans, fishing out the device which he had been glued to for the full duration of his tour. At any spare second. Lockscreen – your smiling face, surrounded by the scenery of his hometown when you two went for a visit over the holidays. Tapping in the date of your birthday, he came face to face with a photo where you two were together – a candid picture snapped by his closest friend and fellow band member during a celebratory dinner; you two laughing at a joke shared between yourselves, so in love that every part of you and him were intertwined. Seonghwa wanted to break himself apart. Take his heart and mind out and douse them in cold water so that at least for a moment he could have some space to breathe before ultimately repeating: you, you you again. Fingers flying to tap onto the messaging app you preferred to use most often, though the two of you had conversations going on almost every piece of social media, he scrolled through your chats, relistened to the voice messages and scrutinised every photo until it was re-imprinted in his brain. As if he could ever forget in the first place.

He would likely be a laughingstock, wouldn’t he? A man with the world at his feet, wanting nothing more than to collapse at the feet of another. Sure, his fans were no strangers to the fact that there was ‘a special someone’ in his life, though since he made sure to keep his private matters truly secure, no one knew who was the reason why he woke up even when the day was promising challenge and turmoil. The only sign of his undying devotion that he dared to expose with shameless pride was the tiny red band around his pinkie, a simple line alluding to the string of fate, of soulmates. One night, not too long ago even though it seemed that you knew each other for your entire lives, when you had the chance to spend time together without worrying about work matters and could let time trickle past while stargazing, he proposed. Perhaps it was not traditional, the four words uttered only in passing after you had already blessed him with your agreement. Instead Seonghwa had suggested the permanence of a tattoo as a symbol for your love, and revealed his faith and devotion. Written in the stars, he found his guidance in you. Just like the constellations, galaxies and mythical creatures permanently etched on his skin, he wanted to live the neverending story with you.

As he shifted his grip on the phone to glance at the red band, Seonghwa could not help but imagine what you could be doing right this second. Could you be stirring from sleep? Could you be getting ready for another day at work? How was that one personal project you picked up going? He hammered out letter after letter on driven by what had to be an external power, so much mightier than him. The rockstar bit his lower lip, feeling a tug on one of the piercings, but that made him simply bite down harder.

I’m losing my mind.

Without hesitation, he sent the message into the void, hoping that you would not be too worried and simply accept it as one of his eccentricities as an artist. Finally, he tugged off the leather jacket that had been clinging onto his body, suffocating him, and collapsed back onto the bed. Exhaustion was a beast weighing down on him and pushing him into the mattress. Nothing but a lonely carcass, Seonghwa imagined himself as carrion left for the devouring by devious promoters, producers, agents and the like. Freedom was an interesting concept in his industry. Did he have it? Or was it the case that as soon as he gave into a dream, he signed his very being away to be an offering for the money-hungry world? He was definitely going mad. He needed you. Seonghwa missed you. Feverish, anxious, he grabbed a fistful of the duvet with his free hand and counted the passing seconds, too many of them, but not as much as the distance between where he was supposed and wanted to be, and where he currently was.

A loud ringing jolted him out of his paralysing ruminations – his phone. He rolled his head to the side, and upon seeing the incoming video call could not be faster in wriggling to rest on the headboard and answer. So you were awake, and in a couple of seconds… there you were, hair in a loose side braid, a familiar vintage t-shirt adorning your shoulders. You were at the desk – your home office, cradling what had to be a cup of coffee. Black, no sugar, no cream. Nothing. Just how you liked it.

“Hi baby,” you greeted him with the warmth of a thousand suns, and soon enough, his smile returned to him too, though still a little weak, beaten down by the weeks spent apart. It was still dark where you were, while for him it was already dark. It was easy to face when with you, however – nothing could be brighter than you.

“You’re wearing my old clothes?” Seonghwa could not help but ask, too curious to refrain from the inquiry. You looked down at the shirt momentarily before lifting your head and nodding.

“Yep. There’s been a change of plans so I am working from home today. And… I wanted to have a day-long hug from my fiancé.”

“You always wear them better, and I wish it were me and not the tee, angel,” he sighed, eyes trailing down what part of you he could see. He might be wrong, but you appeared to be a little tired, dark circles more prominent under your gorgeous eyes, and movements a fraction more lethargic than how they would usually be in the mornings.

“Is that what you were losing your mind over?” you attempted to lighten the mood, but Seonghwa could not play along when the joke was a reality. You caught onto this quickly enough, and paused to look at him more closely.

Seonghwa could feel the intensity of your inspection. It was as though you were reading him like one of the many books you had collected. Basking in the attention from his lover, he leaned further back onto the pillows and let himself think out loud.

“We have another flight tomorrow.”

“Yeah, next is the third to last concert, right-”

“I want to fly to you,” the young artist cut you off, staring at nowhere in particular as he voiced his one wish.

“It’s not too long now, Hwa, and then we have a whole month to ourselves. No touring. Home.”

“I miss you.”

“I miss you too, love. But also, I am proud of you. You are bringing dream to reality-“

“Fuck what I’m dreaming. What does all of this mean anyways?” he retorted, making you raise an eyebrow before leaning onto the desk.

“All of this means that you are yourself. You are an artist. A light for so many souls. And if you cannot hear this, then let me remind you that I love you, the you who is so driven, so talented and so hardworking. Park Seonghwa who has been destined to become a star and give hope to millions. You are yourself, and that is what is so precious and iconic about you.”

You had a way with words. You always did. Stepping in when he was at his lowest and managing to drag him out of what he had assumed was an abyss, you were his biggest supporter, cheerleader, muse. When he was afraid to put pen to paper or deemed a melody worthless, you were the one to encourage him to experiment, try things out regardless, and with such strength that now it was a philosophy he abided by; it never hurt to try, and perfection was impossible. What was achievable, however, was satisfaction and happiness with the self. It was more than enough to try. And now, you were the one fearlessly bearing the catastrophic mass that was his worries with the last tour dates.

“Oh how dare you…” he mumbled, lips trembling ever so slightly as he pushed out the words. Involuntarily a mist settled over his eyes, and Seonghwa’s surroundings began to blur.

“No, baby come on, don’t cry, or we’ll be crying together. Let’s stay strong for each other, yeah? Like the dragon you have? Let’s leave the tears for later, and hopefully make the source of them a happy one,” you cooed, your own heart being torn apart as you witnessed your lover’s vulnerability, raw misery expressing itself as the hard exterior of a professional rockstar fell away. The hint at one of his many tattoos made Seonghwa’s mouth twitch into a tiny smile, an adoring gesture to remind your fiancé that you could draw each of the masterpieces from memory, having spent many nights tracing them with your digits.

“I-… Y/N I… I love you so much, you know that, right?” The confession turned query was choked, feeble, fragile, an offering made of the thinnest glass. One that you would protect with your life.

“Hwa, I love you too. So much…”

“Everything makes me think of you…” fatigue was evident, coating his vocal cords thick with a somnolent huskiness.

“Soon, you won’t have to remember me. You will have me in real time. Will you look forward to that for me?”

“Always.”

One topic, another, talking about nothing and everything at once. Trivial matters transformed into beautiful tales. In what had appeared to him to be no time at all, you had to rush into your first meeting of the day, while he was left a little less lonely in the hotel room continents away from you, with only his guitar and your reassuring love to keep him company. A hope, an excitement rekindled in his chest, bubbling up and flying across the bloodstreams into a tingling sensation in the fingertips, and a pleasant, hazy buzz in his brain. Caught between what had to be sleep and delirium, Seonghwa moved exclusively on instinct. In a few movements, he produced a tattered notebook and pen that had listened to his every confession and flipped it to an empty page before setting it down on the sheets.

Carefully, he took the guitar out of its case, and upon checking that it was properly tuned let a few notes hang in the air. The longer Seonghwa stared at the wall, the more confident he became in the fact that he could see you standing there in front of him, and as the words began to pour, it was you who he was confiding in. When with you, he was not afraid. When dedicating yet another song to you, he could not care less for the lack of rest, for how he greeted the dawn. He had a week until the last show, and he sure as hell was going to make full use of it.

The arena was silent aside from a few yells, before they too, succumbed to the suspense. The spotlights were almost blinding, and Seonghwa suddenly felt grateful for the fact that his image allowed for sunglasses. Elegantly perched on the bridge of his nose, they masked his anxiety as he adjusted his microphone, setting it back onto the stand while the rest of the band was exchanging glances and making the last checks before the grand finale, what he had decided would be the last ‘official’ song of the concert, and therefore the tour. Of course, the audience would ask for an encore. Of course, he would step right back out on stage to perform it – the act had already been planned in advance. But it was this song, one that he and his closest friends had spent night and day finalising, recording, even sending off to be made commercial, that would be his final word.

“Distance is measured in miles, and in how strongly you feel them. This is ‘Timezone’,” following the brief introduction, he momentarily shut his eyes and sucked in a shaky breath. In that split second, he did not exist. He was not on stage, he was home. Seonghwa could feel your hand on his shoulder and could float in your perfume. This was no different to how he would play for you in the living room – anything you wished for, he would either perform or learn on the spot or even create. So, maybe, just maybe, you will be able to hear him now, too. And how he was calling out for you, and was counting the seconds until he could see you again.

Only thing that keeps us apart

Is seven thousand miles, running like a mad dog

Only thing that keeps us apart

Is a different timezone

So fuck what I'm dreaming, this fame has no meaning

I'm coming home

Only thing that keeps us apart

Is a different timezone

A roar overtaking expressions of gratitude. With every bow the crowd grew wilder and wilder. Chants praising the song were unfathomably strong, and Seonghwa had no doubt that the videos would go viral. Would you see them? Would you message him after? He did not need the answers to these questions. Not when he almost dropped his guitar as he saw you standing backstage, arms open wide, a staff lanyard around your neck. He was thankful for how you did not mind his sweat-covered arms, his glistening forehead as he pressed himself against you. He was enamoured with how your lips fit perfectly together, piercings and all, as he planted one kiss after another, each one bringing him back to life. He was eternally devoted to every moment with you.

“I told you, soon, didn’t you?” He could not respond, instead choosing to nod lest he break down in the midst of his overwhelming elation, “same timezone…” you altered the lyrics – sunlight after a rainstorm.

“I’m home, Y/N,” he mumbled into your hair before pulling you even closer to him, arms wound tight around your body, fingers dancing on your back as though he was still in disbelief that you were here.

“Welcome home, my love,” he leaned into your hand that reached for his face, letting you cup it. With nothing to keep you two apart, Seonghwa let himself get lost in your eyes, the string of fate winding tighter and tighter until his, and your heart were both glistening in a healing gold, the hints of cracks sealed and more beautiful than ever, standing the test of time, of space, of dreams.

🎸 taglist: @acciocriativity @justhere4kpop @byuntrash101 @shakalakaboomboo @starillusion13 @hongthoven @uwuheeseungie @cheollipop @frankenstein852 @charreddonuts @miriamxsworld @mingigoo @michel-angelhoe @innsomniacshinestar @foxinnie8 @preciouswoozi @wooyoungjpg @nebulousbookshelf @wowie-hockey @hongjoongs-patience @jaehunnyy @kitten4sannie @maddkitt @lightinyreads @ren-junwrld @pyeonghongrie-main @marsstarxhwa @pocketjoong-reads @alyszaen @archivesummer @little-angel-k @yeooclock @yeonjunnie @asjkdk @lucky-cat-cafe @northerngalxy

enjoyed? please consider reblogging and leaving a comment. thank you, much love!

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thelikesofus · 1 year

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Buddie Fic Recs

AKA Talented Mutuals Tuesday

Except I spent so long making this list that the timezones changed over BUT I wanted to show my mutuals some love and now that we are going into the hiatus I thought you might all like a list of quality fics to keep you occupied while there is no new Weewoo show.

I don't know if anyone will actually want to join in on this but if you do the rules are simple:

SHOW YOUR MUTUALS SOME LOVE! Share your favourite fics, (or gifs, edits, literally anything that your very talented mutuals have made), as many or as few as you like but let's share the love around <3

Apologises in advance for the long post btw

@speaknowdiaz I would literally read anything that April writes and would probably sell a limb for the incredible WIPs I know she's still cooking up but here are a couple of my faves:

pining and anticipation (I don't want you like a best friend)

Buck challenges Eddie to try to hit on him after teasing Eddie for not having any ‘game’. This fic is very funny and very soft.

believe in one thing (i won't go away)

This fic hit me straight in the feels. Buck and Eddie go to couples therapy even though they aren't a couple and they work through some stuff.

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@thosetwofirefighters Incredible amazing Nat ily xx

Say It All Out Loud

Eddie comes out to Aunt Pepa after his ‘date’ with Vanessa. I am a little bit biased towards this one because she did write it for me but it's honestly just so good!

How to Cure Boredom: Buckley Edition

The 118 are stuck at the firehouse during a slow shift and Buck entertains them all by mattress-surfing the loft stairs. It’s soft and silly and in the same universe as her other fic Safe in His Arms.

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@loveyourownsmiilee The wonderful amazing Juju not only writes incredible meta and keeps us all fed with Oliver content but Juju also writes wonderful buddie fic.

When Were You Under Me?

Who doesn’t love a Friends AU. This is Buck and Eddie as Ross and Rachel and it is hilarious and so sweet.

You should also check out her Buddie Language Meta if you have not read it before <3

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@elvensorceress Jenwyn’s work always astounds me so be sure to check these out:

Color Him Father, Color Him Love

I will scream from the rafters how much I adore this fic and yes it did make me cry (happy tears). It’s a look into Buck’s head after his sperm donor kid is born and he realizes what Christopher (and Eddie) truly mean to him. I know I have recced this before but it deserves all the love.

Unless You Ask Me To

Eddie dates a man for the first time, and Buck is completely 'Fine'. This is a preemptive rec because it is one chapter away from completion and I have been saving it to binge in one sitting but knowing Jenwyn and her incredible talent I guarantee this will be worth the read.

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@spotsandsocks If anyone’s work is guaranteed to make me sob like a baby (happy, sad, or tears of laughter) it’s Spotty.

Everything But (temptation)

This is Spotty’s newest fic and it's just brilliant. Buck is practicing extreme self-control whilst Eddie is being an irresistible menace.

Could Have, Should Have, Would Have

Buck finally tells Eddie he loves him right before Eddie’s new boyfriend is supposed to meet Christopher. Honestly, all I can say about this fic is that it’s a masterpiece and I screamed many times while reading it.

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@shortsighted-owl Wonderful amazing Owly (Abbi). I appreciate you so and you make my dash so happy xx

Of foam-moustached kisses, and button combinations

For all your sweet domestic buddie needs this is the fic. Eddie is practicing a video game to get better than Chris and Buck makes fun of his ex-technophobe boyfriend.

Also THIS EDIT SET to the lyrics of You’re All That I Have by Snow Patrol make me assdffgghjjklkll

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@lilbuddie Okay, this one is just a brag because Minja doesn’t actually have any fics published yet (side eye) but I wanna make sure she is on everyone’s radar for when she does because yall are not ready for the incredible amazing talent that is this girl’s writing!! So go check out the snippets on her Tumblr and badger her until she finishes something plssssss

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@wheelsupin-five Hi! <3

Almost Almost Almost

This adorable of Buck who is always cold and Eddie warms him up I– asfffghhjkklllll

Under Kitchen Light

SO SOFT! Buck wakes up and Eddie isn't there, Buck finds him in the kitchen.

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@rogerzsteven Simi owns my heart and by that I mean my heart is locked in a cage in Simi’s basement where it is occasionally beaten to a pulp by the most incredibly angsty fics you've ever read.

Cleanse

Buck is extremely nauseous and Eddie takes care of him while I sob over them in a corner.

build me a home underground (free from light and sound)

This fic is so brutal in all the best ways, my heart was in my throat the entire read! Buck gets trapped in a sensory deprivation room while the 118 and Athena race to find him.

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@ashavahishta another incredibly talented mutual of mine

out of ashes

Is it really a Meegs rec list if I don’t rec this fic honestly it's engraved on my soul. This is a criminal minds/greys inspired fic where Buck is kidnapped and tortured until the 118 can find him. This fic is so so well written and means a million things to me I could never explain but pleaseeeee read it!!

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@jobairdxx hello lovely xx

Oh, We Pray to Make it Through the Night

Highly recommend this fic, I do love a near-death experience fic! Buck gets injured on a call and Eddie falls asleep holding vigil at his bedside.

Jules also writes beautiful poetry on Tumblr so go read some of that too <3

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@monsterrae1 MISS RAE! YOU INCREDIBLE THING! <3

love is on its way

I know we’re all a little bit in mourning over the couch theory but it lives on in our hearts and in this fic which has six moments between Buck and Eddie on the Diaz couch (and she’s a wee bit spicy too).

Buck's café (take my heart, just not my order)

Coffee Shop AU. Buck runs the shop where the 118 order all their drinks on shift. I absolutely adore this fic!

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@alyxmastershipper RYAN!! INCREDIBLY TALENTED MUTUAL THAT YOU ARE!!

there's always been a rainbow hangin' over your head

If “aasdsdfghhjkl” was a person it was me reading this fic. Eddie comes out to Buck, receives a quirky mug, and gets together with the love of his life. In that order.

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@bekkachaos Wonderful, amazing Bekka xxx

lose yourself in the feeling

I am a sucker for ‘accidental kisses’ and this was just wonderful. Buck is so excited about Maddie and Chim getting engaged that he kisses Eddie when he tells him.

start me up, open my eyes

Okay, the mild sexual content tag is a lie, nothing has ever been closer to smut without actually being smut than this fic, I have never been so wound up reading a fic. Bekka builds the tension so so well.

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@sibylsleaves honestly I'm still a little in shock that we're mutuals now so please excuse me while I fangirl over your incredible writing!

with a bird at your door

Eddie starts spending all his time with Buck. Which would be fine if it weren't for the fact that Buck is in love with him. This fic is the perfect mixture of pining, angst, and a happy ending. And yes I think about this fic frequently I love it okay.

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@mysteriouslyyounggalaxy last but certainly not least (for now). hello lovely xx

(tell the gravedigger) better dig two

Missing scenes from while eddie is trapped in the well followed by the most perfect extended reunion scene. We all know I am a sucker for fics based on the well incident, it’s literally how i started writing for buddie but omg this fic!!!!

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Remember to share the love around and happy hiatus to you all.

Love, Meegs xxxx

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blackhairedjjun · 7 months

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(love)sick

pairing: choi yeonjun x gn reader | genre / tropes: fluff, comfort, valentines themed! | word count: 1.2k | warnings: pet names (baby, love), profanity, mentions of food, getting sick

summary: yeonjun gets sick on valentine's day. you don't mind, as long as you get to spend the day with your beloved.

author's notes: happy valentines day!! i think - it's no longer valentines day in my timezone lol. anyway, i crammed this fic while i was sick myself and after watching yeonjun's make it happen documentary (which also features him getting sick) and somehow the brain cells crossed and produced... this? LOL yeah

(support by reblogging banner by @cafekitsune)

you know that something is wrong when yeonjun calls you and asks to meet up with him at his apartment instead of picking you up from work.

it isn’t the seeming lack of chivalry that bothers you — you like stopping by your boyfriend’s apartment anyway — but the way his voice sounds on the phone. it’s hoarse and thin, and it wasn’t just the patchy cell signal outside your office building making him sound that way. his words themselves were scratchy, as if it takes him some difficulty to get them out. “i’m so sorry, baby,” he says, the word sorry sounding like a groan. “i don’t feel well enough to drive…”

“jjunie, are you okay?”

“i’m fine,” he croaks. he does not sound fine. “just need… to rest a bit. we can move the reservation by… half an hour…”

moments later, you tap your foot now and then on the bus ride from your office to his apartment, the rumbling nowhere near loud enough to drown out the frenzy in your thoughts. yeonjun booked a reservation at a fancy restaurant for valentine’s day, which he apparently had been planning since the two of you got together. you barely managed to wrangle out any hints on what he had in store, but you could tell from the shine in his eyes and his mischievous little giggles that he had something grand and romantic in mind. with the way his voice sounded on the phone, though, he might not be feeling well enough to put any of those plans into motion.

the bus gets to your stop and you practically jump off. half-walking, half-running, you head towards the sleek new apartment building yeonjun calls home, your heartbeat thundering in your ears. it doesn’t stop once you get to the building, or on the elevator ride to his place, or even until you turn the knob on his door. please, please, your thoughts echo, please let my jjunie be okay.

as you enter, you spot on the little table by the hallway a giant box of assorted chocolates and a bouquet of roses and carnations, still in pristine condition. your face grows warm at the sight — you mentioned previously to yeonjun that you wanted some pink flowers along with the traditional red — but it also rattles your nerves. yeonjun wouldn’t just leave these by his apartment, he’d usually hide them from you and wait for the right time to present them...

you walk past the valentine’s gifts. when you reach yeonjun’s bedroom door, you give a quick knock. “jjunie, it’s me…”

there’s a low groan from inside. shit, he sounds worse than you thought. “baby, i… i’m not ready yet…”

“i’m coming in anyway, okay?”

you push the door open and your heart drops at the sight.

the room is balmy. yeonjun is sprawled on his bed, half-dressed, all energy seemingly drained from his form. you gasp and rush to his side; upon closer look, his face is pale and the skin under his eyes is dark.

“hi, baby…” he rasps. “you look pretty.”

“oh, jjunie…” you reach for him and feel his forehead with your palm. “shit. you’re burning up.”

“i burn for you, baby,” he says with a cough. he tries to be smooth about it with a smirk but it just looks like a lopsided grin to you.

you let out a chuckle but it does little to hide your worries. your hand comes up to his forehead again and you brush aside a few strands of hair from there. his skin burns hot.

“you’re sick, jjunie. i can’t… we can’t go out like this. i’m sorry baby, you need to rest.”

yeonjun’s eyes widen at your words. he forces himself to sit up and lets out a low whine. “but it’s valentine’s day! i planned this for months and—”

“i know, but you’re not well enough to go out. i’m really sorry.”

“no baby, i can make it, i一” cough! cough!

he groans and his body tips toward you. you catch him, arms circling his waist, and he buries his face in your neck. even with the heat radiating from his skin, you can feel the tears pricking at his eyes.

“i’m so sorry, baby…” he chokes back a sob. “i wanted to treat you well today, and…”

you feel his tears flow as yeonjun holds on to you, and your hold on him tightens into a full hug. with him in your arms mourning the end of your valentine’s dinner, his love for you pours out of him completely; the disappointment of the canceled date weighs on him more heavily than his illness, and it sinks into him as he clings to you. you think of the flower bouquet and the chocolate box left in the hallway and imagine how eager he must have been to give them to you and see the look on your face.

“i’m sorry,” yeonjun whispers again. the tone of his voice makes a dull ache shift in your chest.

“oh, my jjunie,” you coo, and he nuzzles into you at the sound of your voice. “don’t be sorry. we couldn’t have predicted this. and all i care about now is making sure you feel well.”

“but… the dinner…”

“we can always have it some other time, okay? like for our anniversary or for my birthday. or for an ordinary day. it doesn’t have to be on valentine’s as long as i’m with you.”

“i know, but…”

even when he isn’t fully convinced, yeonjun allows you to set him down on his bed. he reaches out for you and you take his hand, kissing it and placing it on your cheek. the gesture causes him to finally smile, and his fingers trace your cheekbone.

“i love you,” he whispers.

“i love you too, my jjunie.” you lean into his touch. “and you take such good care of me every day. i mean, you planned a whole dinner just for me! that’s amazing.”

yeonjun coughs, but you can see him blushing despite his fever.

“and we’ll have that dinner someday, i promise, but not now.” you place your hand atop his on your cheek; it still burns, but you don’t care. “right now all i want to do is take care of you, like you always do for me. i want to see you get better, i want to stay with you here. and i wouldn’t want to spend my valentine’s day any other way.”

when you finish speaking you bend down to give him one more kiss on the forehead. yeonjun remains speechless for a few moments, simply gazing at you, but his eyes are filled with so much affection and tenderness that you can’t look away. even when he’s sick, he’s the most beautiful man in the world to you — how can he be otherwise when he looks at you like that?”

“you’re… amazing,” he says at last. “please stay…”

your heart swells and you smile at him.

“of course, love.”

you sit on the edge of his bed, reaching for his hand and intertwining your fingers together. yeonjun manages to shift his position to be closer to you, then his arms wrap around your side. he leans his head on you, feeling your warmth.

“the reservation,” you murmur. “i should cancel...”

your words are interrupted by a groan from yeonjun as he snuggles further into you. you let out a giggle.

“okay, okay. i’ll stay.”

#txt x reader #yeonjun x reader #txt x you #yeonjun x you #choi yeonjun x reader #kpop x reader #txt imagines #kpop imagines #yeonjun imagines #txt fluff #yeonjun fluff #tomorrow x together imagines #txt fic #txt fanfic #bhj: violet's works

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notroosterbradshaw · 1 year

Text

thirty-nine

about: never one for birthdays, Bradley is quite content on a quiet night in for his birthday. the only gift he really wants is you but gets a little more than expected. tbe universe.

word count: ficlet-town (for me). 2.5k.

part of: The Boyfriend Experience universe

warnings: fluff. a bit o’ smut but mostly fluffy fluff. mindless fluff. and yeah. adult themes. but this blog is 18+, so this shouldn’t be a surprise.

it’s midnight here in the land of Oz and brb thots will be running rampant multiple timezones today, celebrate with your creators and fandom. send reblogs and comments x

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you... Happy birthday, sweet Bradley,” you sang quietly, approaching him with a single-lit candle chocolate cupcake as he relaxed on the couch after a delicious homemade dinner and the whiskey doing down a fucking treat. With the lights low, romance was gently hanging in the air. “Happy birthday to you,” you finished simply as he couldn’t resist his grin and pink flushed the apples of his cheeks.

“Love...” he grumbled, embarrassed. “You didn’t have to - ”

“But I did,” you cut him off gently. “Make a wish, handsome,” you tenderly kissed the frown line between his raised dark brows.

“Thank you, sweet girl,” he accepted the cupcake and stared deeply into your eyes before letting his lids drift closed. He carefully blew out the candle.

"Whatcha wish for?” you asked sweetly.

“Don’t need a wish, already got everything I need,” he said simply as he patted his thighs and opened his arms to you. “Come ‘ere, you.”

Eagerly, you climbed aboard your favourite seat and made yourself comfortable on his lap, taking the candle and tossing it on the coffee table. “You’re such a fuckin’ softy,” you accused teasingly as he chuckled, shyly. “I know you didn’t want to celebrate, and that’s fine. But you weren’t getting away without a sweet surprise,” you admitted as he offered you the first nibble. “No, sweetheart. You’re the birthday boy. Birthday boy comes first today.”

“Comes first, huh? Sweet girl, I will always get you there,” he breathed deeply, taking an indulging bite. He hummed happily, crumbs flailing between you. “Sorry,” he admitted. “It’s real good,” he chuckled messily, trying to catch crumbs with his tongue. You adjusted your posture, a gentle grind catching his attention quick. He licked his lip, unknowingly missing some frosting that you generously tidied for him with a sweet kiss.

“Does taste good,” you agreed. “All for you, Lieutenant Commander,” you reminded him. He knew that tone. He knew it meant good things were coming. Hopefully both of you.

He hummed, a low grumble of laughter teasing in his throat. He dragged his long index and middle fingers through the frosting and swiped against your lower lip. “Open, love,” he said, but it wasn’t a question. Your tongue delicately darted out as you kept his gaze. He appreciatively watched as tongue first, you delicately swirled around his fingers and enclosed them, taking it deep in the back of your mouth, eyes big as he breathed a raspy, ‘hmm, yes, baby. You know just how I like it...’

His other palm wrapped around you, a warm hand snuck into the elastic of your sweats and he could feel the lace under the pads of his fingers. He pouted, curiosity getting the best of him. Good things came with lace. “Come here,” he said as you let his fingers go with a pop and crawled a little further, skilfully grinding down on him. He groaned low as your sweet lips brushed wet kisses against his pulse. He was putty when you kissed him there and he willingly snapped back, eyes black with desire as he helped you raise your hoodie and discard it, a new navy blue bodysuit leaving very, very little to the imagination now revealed.

“Fuck, this is nice,” he didn’t apologise for how he groped your breast, his thumb rubbing slow circles around your nipple and he lowered his face to bite through the material, the sight too good to ignore as you sighed, you were in heaven. Dragging your fingers into his neat curls, it was hard not to fall into him. He gazed up at you with those eyes that told you how much he wanted to devour you and raised his lips to you, his big hands pulling you closer to him as your lips met, wild kisses ensued as your bodies pressed against each other eagerly awaiting what was to come next.

He eased back on the couch as you pulled back to make light work of the belt and zip on his jeans. He whipped off his tee and quickly dragged down his jeans with his boxer briefs, long, thick and weeping with excitement for you. “Lose the sweats, love,” he ordered, his tone dark and certain as you stepped away, turned away and pushed the fleece away. He sighed wistfully. He was an ass man at heart, and your ass was pure perfection that he wanted to sink his gleaming teeth into.

Chuckling deep, he encouraged you. “Yes, love. Show me how that thing comes off, huh?”

Looking back, you stepped back between his wide thighs and took his hand, guiding it between your legs to where the clasps strained to be released. He nodded, but instead swiped the flimsy material to the side, his index finger pressing into the slick that always seemed to be waiting for him.

“Look at you, dripping and I have barely even touched you,” he chewed his lip as he watched your face contort, bashful to blissed as his index finger sunk into you, then his middle finger, knees almost immediately weak. “Love, you need to be fucked, huh?” he dragged you flush against him and placed you back on his lap.

“It’s your birthday. I just want to please you - ” you tried. Really. All you wanted to do was please him. See his face as he came. That was pure ecstasy in itself.

“This is all I want,” he told you simply. “Let me bury myself in you, huh? You coming all over my cock is my gift.”

“I was supposed to be the gift to you - ” you moaned as he dragged you upon him, slipping his cock in deeply, perfect for you. “God,” you muttered, resting your forehead on his strong shoulder, taking in his cologne. He always smelled so damn good.

“I said no presents,” he growled, teasingly. “Well, okay. Except maybe for this flimsy, little... thing,” he breathed deep, pulling down the cup and letting his tongue swirl around the puckered skin. His cock was so sensitive to your sweet, warm wetness. He wanted slow and slippery, but he wasn’t going to last if this was how delirious you made him feel.

It was slow, sweet. Connecting, kissing, he held you so tight as you melded together. Perfect in its simplicity. But unlike your birthday wish for him, you came before him, quaking and milking him, dragging his orgasm out.

It wasn’t always about the birthday boy.

Slumped against Bradley, his tongue lapped up the few beads of sweat on your shoulder and murmured how good his sweet girl was to him. “You want more, big boy?” you asked into his skin. “Ready to unwrap me?”

He breathed deeply, trying to control his breathing. “Fuckin’ yes.”

“Then come along. It would be rude if I unwrapped your gift myself.”

Praying to whatever deity brought you to him, his grin ripped wide as you murmured about the mess between you both that threatened to spill. He reached for his discarded tee and skillfully tidied you up. After another kiss, he took your hand, thanking the gods for creating you for him. “Okay. Maybe one more gift...” he slipped his boxer briefs back on and allowed himself to be led to the bedroom, his big hand in both of your smaller ones and you stopped at the door.

“Come on,” you said as he wandered in. “Get comfy, let me just freshen up...” You kissed him then headed for the bathroom as he dove on the bed, the duvet exploding around him in his excitement and an arrogant smile on his face as he placed his hands behind his head, body primed for whatever you were about to blow his mind with.

He cast his gaze to the bathroom door you’d just disappeared through, his bedside lamp on. Meticulous in his need for organisation and neatness, he noted an envelope on the bedside table and reached for it, his name on the front -

And maybe breathing stopped when he pulled out the contents.

And maybe his heart lurched as he realised the handwriting he hadn’t seen in years, the letter addressed to Bradley Darling x

And maybe -

“Ahh, you saw it,” you said, reappearing and relaxed against the doorway, a small grin on your face, perfect with your messy hair and put back together in your bodysuit. Bradley gave you a confused smile.

“Love,” he sat up, and asked, “What is this?”

"Wasn’t addressed to me, Bradley Darling,” you told him, the affection you had for the name superseding any nickname you’d ever given him. “I found it in one of the boxes in the attic. Had Mav’s name on it and a cross scribbled through it violently,” you gave him a look that told him how ridiculous it sounded.

Bradley signed, rubbing his eyes bashfully. “I got a bunch of stuff from Mav after Mom died... and then the whole papers thing happened so I took out my anger on an archive box... among other things.”

“Mature.”

“Yeah,” he agreed embarrassed.

“Want me to leave you for a few minutes?” you nudged your head towards the living room in case he wanted to read alone.

“No, stay,” he said, reaching his hand for you and you came to sit on the edge of the bed as he sat up. “Wanna read it with me?”

“It looks like it’s just for you...” you told him warily, not wanting to interrupt a private moment but you would be lying if you didn’t want to know the contents of the letter.

“Yeah, but there’s nothing in there I’d ever hide from you. Get over here,” he admitted as you came to scamper over his body and lay back together against his pillow as he opened the letter. “Been a long time since I’ve seen her handwriting, it’s weird.”

“It’s such a beautiful script,” you admitted, never a fan of your own writing. A messy chicken scrawl at the best of times. You wrapped a thigh over his, snuggling against his side. “Smells like old perfume.”

“She always sprayed her favourite Chanel perfume on any letters she sent,” he chuckled quietly.

“No. 5?” you reckoned.

“Actually, yeah. That sounds really familiar. She said it was really expensive,” he chuckled quietly. His eyes went to her handwriting and started to read aloud:

My Bradley Darling on his 21st birthday.

There are a few of these we haven’t celebrated together now. It breaks my heart to know that you are alone but I know Mav is taking care of you as best as he can -

Bradley sighed. “Guess she couldn’t predict it.”

“No, I suppose not,” you agreed, kissing his ribs but not wanting to distract him, your fingers tracing the ridges and peaks of his abs, his muscles firing, always ticklish. “Worked out in the end.”

He hummed in response and kept reading:

But I know he is doing all he can in his way to make sure you’re safe, happy and taken care of. I hope you’ve remembered your patience and consideration of all he has done for you and will continue to do, even if you don’t agree with his decisions. All Mav has ever wanted was the best for you, just like Daddy and me.

I’m writing you this while you sleep in the hospital chair across from me. My young man, so handsome and bright with the world at his feet. I hope you have gone for everything you’ve ever dreamed of. I hope you meet someone wonderful, someone who you will love like I love your Daddy. I’m so scared to leave you, but I want you to know while you have Mav here, Daddy and I are going to be watching everything you do from where we are together, devastated we’re not with you, but so damn proud of the man you will grow to be, watching from the front row.

Bradley stopped to sniff. He wasn’t crying but would be lying to say he might’ve if you didn’t distract him with the tear stains now on his chest. “Oh, love,” he said with a gentle sigh.

“This is the sweetest thing. She is very eloquent.”

“Towards the end, she was pretty out of it. I don’t know when she wrote this,” he admitted. You nodded, hoping he’d continue. There didn’t appear much more left as your eyes followed his words.

Bradley Darling, you are the love of my life. And I’m so sorry I couldn’t beat this for us. But I’ll always take care of you. I’ll be your angel watching over you, just like Daddy is for you and me now. He’s calling for me, I can hear him clear as day and I can’t wait to see him.

I love you, my brave son. Your Momma x

“Oh, my God,” you were almost sobbing in the end as Bradley folded the paper up, placed it back on the bedside table and wrapped you into his arms.

“There, there,” he teased, kissing your forehead.

“That is so special, Bradley.”

He nodded but didn’t reply. He knew the weight it held and wondered if Carole really was watching, seeing how happy he was, seeing what he made of his life. A decorated naval aviator, a partner and a man with a future. A man who didn’t think he’d have a future before you came along. But he knew.

He didn’t believe in soulmates before he’d met you, but he knew his mother had sent you to him. When you were both at the right times in your life - when you needed him and when he needed you more than he’d ever know he could need anyone.

He giggled as he kissed you, tasting salty tears. “Why are you so emotional about this?”

“I don’t know,” you protested, a bubbly laugh slipping. “Do you think she is happy at how your life turned out?”

“Yeah, I hope so. She’d probably be pushing a baby agenda,” he nudged you, teasingly as you rolled your eyes. You’d only recently just gone off the pill, rolling the dice to see if Baby Bradshaw was in your futures and Bradley would be lying to say... he was trying to bury himself in you any fucking chance he got, but don’t get him wrong, he didn’t have a breeding kink. Nooo... not at all.

“One step at a time, huh?” he held your left palm in his and pressed a series of sweet kisses into your engagement ring, your wedding in a few short weeks with that special handful of people. Small and intimate for two fools who never saw themselves ever getting married and finding their happily ever afters together.

“One step at a time,” you repeated, moving to his waist as he licked his lips, an entertained grin spreading across his handsome features. “Think I could tempt you for the rest of your present now, Bradshaw?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely.”

masterlist.

A/N: happy birthday, Rooster Bradshaw. It’s been so much fun bringing you to life exactly how I see you (whether people agree or not) x

the tag list no longer exists. To keep up to date, give @notroosterbradshaw-library a follow x

#notroosterbradshaw #happy birthday big boy #rooster #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster fluff #bradley bradshaw fluff #rooster drabble #bradley bradshaw drabble #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw fic #rooster smut #Bradley bradshaw smut

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weirdly-specific-but-ok · 7 months

Text

the bafta livestream out of context: top 60 cursed quotes.

There is nothing more cursed than the livestream I just witnessed, and I made a summary post but now I'm just going to put in quotes by the worthy maggots in the stream with no context, because BELIEVE ME THE CONTEXT DIDN'T MAKE ANYTHING BETTER. The livestream chat was NOT A PLACE OF THE LORD.

I'm going to make the quotes that were by me a different colour. Please know that I am NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR A SINGLE QUOTE OTHER THAN THOSE. SO HERE'S THE TOP 60 IN NO PARTICULAR ORDER:

Barbenhimer awakened things in me ok

aroace people the most disturbingly sexual talkers on the planet fight me on this

WHO JUST GASPED

MICHAEL SHEENS BABY TALKING BARK BADK IM A DOG BARK WOOF

I feel so sorry for this woman. She's being so heartfelt and we're here thristing over a slinky that possessed a man

IRELAAAND PLEASE ADOPT ME AS YOUR OWN PLEASE TAKE ME TO THE LAND OF UNPRONOUNCABLE WORDS, GREEN FEILD, CATHOLISISM AND HOZIER PLEASE

the urge to go to france and misgender a croissant is real

Devastated the slutty knees have gone away

So many men nowadays are so submissive and breedable like thank you lord for these men thank you

witches and murder slime tutorial

speaking of royals did the bloke who ISN'T lizzy's husband but her son apparently die yet

Turtleneck Crowley is my gender.

WE COULD HAVE LEFT IT AS NOT SAFE FOR WORK WHY THE DRTAOLS ASMI

SAY AN BFUIL CEAD AGAM DUL GO DTÍ AN LEITHREAS AN WE'LL LET YOU THROUGJ

"Oompa loompa doopety dee, I really hated being in this movie" -Hugh grant probably

IF YOU'RE A CHILD AVERT YOUR EYES FROM THAT MESSAGE IM SORRY

i want the kilt back this a betrayal

if someone put me in a room with kilt!david tennant one of us is walking out of that room pregnant and its not gonna be me

a lot of these words are in the bible and none of them should be in that order you need jesus

Can we vote to make david wear that kilt back? Maybe make him do a twirl this time

You mean Bildaddy? 😏

Honey what make you think a dude who roamed around with prostitutes and got himself more holes for mankind won't be calling bildad bildaddy? [this was about jesus btw.]

FREE THE KNEE

Show us the knees!

AND YOU'RE COMING AFTER ME FOR MY BLOWJOB BANANA

He looks like those fancy chocolates. Imma take a bite outta him. Think you'll leak molten goo like them?

My brain isn't working, I read "bratty couch jr"

i'm sorry the what holes

FIND ME ON GOAD AND I WILL MAKE YOU PAY APPROPRIATELY

I genuinely thought it was a road typo and I thought you were threatening asmi with physical violence on the road

OHH FLOWER OF SCOTLAAAAAAND

Combine that with the unfortunate oranges and see what happens.

DEVASTATING NEWS I ATE UP ALL OF THEM SO I'VE BROUGHT A BLOWJOB BANANA INSTEAD

That reminded me of the army video where the guy was deepthroating a 7 inch banana without a hitch.

OMG THEY JUST FLASHED BACK & I GOT A GLIMPSE OF THAT KILT 🥵🥵🥵

thats why apollo had to deliver you at an illegal sushi restaurant

How long do you think it would take to get david naked from his chocolate man suit? Can we set a new speedrun category?

SUPERBOWL FOR TENNANTISTS

Big feelings about pants straps in the chat tonight

Last time i check yoire supposed to thank the lord gor his gifts

HEY GUYS ASMI'S FROM A PARALLEL UNIVERSE CONFIRMED

I just have a deep appreciation for ireland

Can you use suspenders as bondage gear? I mean it looks like it would be fine? I mean if you make the length a bit more they might be more comfortable than ropes. Just sayin

All i can think when i see him in the costume is the one specific ken and oppenhimer slash fic. Lord help me i can't be saved

GIVE MY LOVE TO THE LEPRECHAAAAAAAAAAAUNSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

Like a giant orange slice on her one arm.

Stop hitting the lectern geez / what if its into that?

Men who wear suspenders are such losers like why do you need so much cloth to keep your pants up. Why dont you just wear a belt. Where do you live. What is your timezone. What are you office hours

what is this suspender shaming ari chappal for you

Aziraphales office hours are: fuck off

Put me ina room with a suspender wearing man and he shall have the same fate as kilttennant

MARIYADAM E ILLAI

It was titled "snake in my b***" It meant butt lmfao

CROWLEY AND LOKI MY GENDERFLUID ICONS

THE KNEES ARE BACK

THEKNEES GOD SAVE ME FROM THESE SINFUL THOUGHTS

What if slutshaming is my kink?

NOT THE BLOWJOB FACE NO

AT THIS POINT IF NEIL HASN'T UNFOLLOWED ME YET HE'S ASKING TO BE MENTALLY SCARRED IM SORRY

I am failing

Tagging the main culprits whose tumblr handles I know:

@thearoacemess @vitrilol @queermarzipan @good-usernames-were-taken

Cheers, maggots.

#good omens mascot #weirdly specific but ok #asmi #good omens #maggots #good omens fandom #crowley #bafta awards #bafta 2024 #bafta #suspenders #discord livestream #david tennant #michael sheen #barbenheimer #oppenheimer

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patroxlos · 2 months

Text

home base . ch4

"friends who sleep on call with each other" - 2.4k words

ultraman: rising (2024). kenji sato x reader

master post. ao3 link.

previous: ch3. "friends who believe in mpreg"

next: ch5. "friends who fuck things up"

With his dad back to help him with the Baby, Ken needs to call you to check if you are okay.

You nearly fall back into old habits. ---

Ring…

One thing Ken loves likes appreciates about you is that no matter the timezone or how busy you are, you always pick up the phone for him.

Ring…

Sorry, your call is not—

Okay, so he exaggerates sometimes.

Ken flops on his bed post-shower, hair still damp as he throws his phone to the side. Mina flits around nearby to ensure that he finally sleeps tonight while his dad watches over the baby in the basement. And he is trying his best to. His joints are begging him to succumb to his fatigue, and he can barely keep his eyes open. Yet, he still lay awake. He knows what he needs.

Mina worries like a mother hen, hovering over the bed. “If you would like, I can run one of the simulations instead if she won’t answer,” she offers.

“No Mina, it still makes me feel a little creepy,” he grumbles.

Her mechanical whirring grows a bit louder. “It would just be for a few minutes. No one has to know.”

Okay, tempting. “...Can you run a quick one?”

Before Mina could start up the projector, his phone lights up with a familiar ring tone. He never dove so fast to answer a call.

His phone nearly slips out of his grasp as he fumbles to press the green button—

You are greeted by a freshly showered Ken Sato through the video call. You sit up straighter on your bed as you blink, bleary.

“Hey,” his relief leaks through your phone speaker. Though it is a bit dim in his room, his camera still caught the crinkle of his eyes as he saw you. “You’re okay. I saw in the news you got picked up by a—”

“You ever heard of a shirt?” You cut him off.

“You know I don’t sleeping with one.” He chuckles when he sees you roll your eyes.

“Whore. No wonder you’re knocked up.”

“Think about who you are slutshaming.” You see him ease into his bed, hearing his soft yawn as he lies down on his left side. “Stress isn’t good for our baby.”

“You know, you don’t have to baby trap me into staying, as the gossip mag claimed. Our fight at the Yakisoba place last night wasn’t the end of the world.” That fight felt worlds away now given all that happened to you in the past few hours.

Ken laughs nervously. “Honestly, I was scared that the article ruined our friendship even further.”

You lie down on your right side and put your face close to the camera, eyebrows scrunching. “Worse things have been written about us.”

“Never a pregnancy though.”

“That one article about me, claiming I was double-timing you and Yuzu, was a lot worse.”

“I still don’t get what you saw in him,” he grunts. “And will you stop calling him Yuzu? He publicly broke up with you.”

You aren’t stupid. You know exactly why Ken hated your most recent former boyfriend, Yuzuru Hanyu. Hell, Ken used to respect the guy so much as a fellow athlete until you started dating him. He does not have to say it out loud for you to know the reason. He knows you know. Neither of you have ever addressed it.

“It’s been a year, it was mutual, and he’s still my friend,” you point out as you adjust your covers over your left shoulder, a flash of deep red seen briefly.

“Yeah well you tell him— woah wait, hold the phone up to your arm.” The sudden urgency of his request nearly jolts you awake.

You bury yourself into the covers a bit more. “It’s fine. Doesn’t really hurt.”

“That’s not what I’m asking.”

“I thought this was a sleep call, since the last time you asked for one was three weeks ago. You look like you haven’t had a good night’s—”

“Can you stop changing the subject and show me your arm?” He snaps, his fatigue making him irritable. A drop of water from his damp hair hits his camera, which he promptly wipes away. “I called you because I heard you were grabbed by a kaiju.”

“So you don’t want me to help you sleep? You always tell me you pass out like a baby when I help.” You try to lift the mood but he wasn’t having it.

“Arm. Now,” He scolds, like you are a dog.

You scoff at his tone, but you brought your left arm from out under the covers. You use your mouth to tug up your sleeve as you held your phone with the other hand to show him the fresh, angry bruisings imprinted on your skin.

“Oh god—”

“It’s just from when that tiny kaiju picked me up. It squeezed me a little bit but I’m just glad its claws didn’t scratch me.” You push your sleeve back down.

“I’m so sorry.” For some reason, his apology sounds so personal.

“It’ll be fine,” you try to soothe him through the call. If you two were together in person, you would have reached forward to squeeze his arm. “It is going to fade away in a week. I got it checked too before I went home, nothing was broken. I’m still here.”

He mumbles something to himself, and you strain your ears to hear a guilt-filled this is all my fault. You don’t really understand what he means by it, but perhaps it is just grief making him say strange things. It is hard when those you cared for get taken too soon by a monster. A multitude of families all across Tokyo struggle to cope with the losses they have sustained, and the entire city lives in fear that it will happen to them.

“Kenji? Are you alright?” You ask slowly. His face is blank, save for the misery that shone in the crease of his forehead.

He closes his eyes, trying to relax his face. “...Can you just keep talking…”

“You wanna sleep?” You start thinking about what to talk about this time. Often, he likes hearing about your day the most. However, not much has happened to you today save for the incident.

He nods.

“Okay.” You talk about the company and the work you have been doing— how often times it feels like a 24/7 shift. You know he only wants to lie down and listen, so you warm up to give a lengthy discussion about numbers and recent data points in market research that you found interesting— maybe it will bore him to sleep. His even, measured breathing tells you that he is close to. While there is so much for you to talk about your work, you begin to start running out of things you actually want to discuss. You are also getting sleepy, and you even have to rest your hand holding your phone on the pillow since your fingers are getting too tired to secure it in your grip. You are about to draw a blank, but your mind wanders to when you were stumbling on the roof of a building earlier that evening.

Oh, you think. Maybe he will find it a little funny. Haven’t messed with him in a while.

“Also, is it just me or has Ultraman gotten hot?”

You startle when his eyes suddenly shoot open. “I’m sorry— who?!”

“The 40-meter superhero?”

“Him?!” His voice is alert but hoarse, his throat pushing out words amidst his drowsiness.

You laugh freely at his reaction, bringing up your thumb to your mouth to bite a little on your nail as you explain yourself. “I dunno, he… I never really thought about him like that, being a giant and all but maybe it is because I never came close or spoken to him before…he saved me earlier from that kaiju and I kinda found it hot? Just being so tiny in his palms—”

“Please stop talking.” You have never seen such a conflicted face on him before.

“Why? You jealous he has a killer waist?”

“I can tell you that that is the furthest thing I am feeling right now.”

“You know he knew my name too,” you continue, failing to notice the way he freezes. “Do you know the theory that Ultraman is like a human guy when there aren’t any monsters? I bet he knows me from the internet or something,” you giggle.

“Yeah, of course he knows who you are…Who wouldn’t?” You mistake his nervousness as sarcasm.

Can’t he just let you have a little celebrity crush? “Kenji, it’s not like I’m going to fuck him. He’s all smooth down there and I don’t even know if his mouth works like that.”

“Can we talk about anything else? Please, I can’t fall asleep to this…” He grumbles with half of his face buried in his pillow, strands of hair sticking to his forehead.

“Maybe you can’t sleep because your pillow is all wet from your hair. Should I come over and teach you how to dry it properly?” You joke.

“Yeah?” He rasps, eyes heavy. “You wanna come over?”

He is nearly about to pass out, fatigue causing his mental filters to lower. He doesn’t know what he’s saying.

That does not stop your throat from going a bit dry.

You were quiet for a bit too long. “Kidding,” he mumbles.

You let out the breath you were holding, looking away from the screen.

“Too much stuff is going on,” he continues. “My dad is here and I’m struggling to adjust to the fact that he might stay with me for a while.”

“You’re speaking to Professor Sato again?” While you are hopeful that this will be a step toward the right direction for the father and son, you worry about what exactly is happening in Kenji’s life that he cannot tell you. You cannot imagine what would bring him to ignore his closest friend in favor of confiding to his estranged father. Perhaps it was a personal family matter.

He sighs, signalling that he is not in the mood to talk about it–he never is–and you let it go.

“I know you said that you can’t put in the effort right now to maintain our friendship, but,” you pause, unsure if what you will say will help. “I miss you.”

His shoulders shake as he laughs. It fills your bedroom. “Fuck you have no idea.”

“It’s just been some time since you have called me for sleep help.”

He does not respond immediately, but you clearly see how deep his eyebags are— or actually, have been, the past few months. “You told me…to call you when I need someone. I really…really need you… I wish you were here…”

The call falls silent. It strikes you suddenly how your bed feels emptier than normal.

You wonder if it is worth the risk to fill it with one more body.

…

“Come over.”

His breath hitches.

You decide to say it a bit clearer, surer. “Come over. It…It doesn’t have to mean anything. We can just cuddle. I think…I think you need it.”

“I…” He clears his throat. “I thought you said—”

“It’s just one night.” You have no idea who you are trying to convince, but a dull ache begins to rise in your abdomen.

He slightly narrows his eyes, a little distrusting. “I don’t want to do this if you’re only doing it to make me feel better.”

“Kenji, I miss you.”

“Don’t say it like that.”

“I can send a car to pick you up if you’re too tired to bike here. I’ll let you go by the morning,” you try to entice him further. “Kenji…do you need me to tell you how much I need you? Because I do.”

He swallows loud.

“I need you.”

“Fuck— okay, I’ll be there.” he places down the phone so you are met with the view of his ceiling. You hear frantic movements in the background, a jingle of a belt buckle as he hurries to put on his pants.

“I’ll send the car—”

“Not fast enough. I’m awake enough to bike.”

You couldn’t stop the grin from forming on your face. “This is such a bad idea.”

“Hey, no take-backs,” he barks to the phone from a distance. “We’ll deal with it in the morning.”

Once he finally picks it up again, you see he is dressed in a white shirt and leather jacket. The chain around his neck catches in the light. You slightly nibble on your bottom lip.

“I’m just coming over to inspect your bruises,” he gruffly justifies.

“Mmhm.”

“And I want to make it up to you for how MIA I’ve been the past few months.”

“Just how will you do that?” You let your voice drop slightly, and he groans at the tone.

“Nothing like what you’re thinking, perv. You said a cuddle is fine, and I’m too banged up for anything else.”

You giggle. “I did. I won’t stop you though if you wander a bit.”

“And I will stop you if you so much as touch—”

A crash was heard at the end of his line. You bolt up as you see him stumble and fall as if an earthquake rocked his house. The phone flies from his hand and the camera meets with the floor. More crashing was heard, and you hear a robotic voice which you recognize as his AI, Mina, enter the vicinity.

“Professor Sato needs help with—”

“I got it, I got it!” You hear Ken snap. He picks up the phone again, and his face is contorted with exasperation. From behind him, Mina floats in view.

“Hey, Mina…” You weakly greet her.

She greets you back. “Apologies, that Ken cannot go to you—”

“Now who decided that?!” He interjects, frustration exploding. “Can’t he handle it alone? Like I have for the past—”

Another loud bang is heard through the call. You wonder whether this was what he has been dealing with all this time. It definitely sounds…occupying. You struggle to temper your disappointment. “It’s okay, Ken. I understand.”

He grinds his teeth, but nods. “I am so sorry.”

“We know that it is a bad idea anyway,” you murmur back. “You coming here. Maybe this is a sign we shouldn’t…go back to old habits.”

His face is unreadable. “Good night. Call you soon.”

“I’ll tell my assistant to wait for your email…about my schedule,” you recall your previous conversation.

“I miss you,” he simply says.

“I miss you too.”

#ken sato x you #ken sato x reader #kenji sato x reader #cross posted on ao3

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i-am-baechu · 1 year

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♡ Summary: “Only thing that keeps us apart is a different timezone...” Yoongi loves touring and seeing his fans but he misses Y/N. There was this unsaid thing between them whenever he went on tour but that didn’t mean it was okay for him. He just missed her so damn much.

♡ Pairing: Established relationship; Yoongi x reader

♡ Rating: Pg-14

♡ Genre: Fluff, romance, angst and a little spice

The screaming was fading out as Yoongi walked backstage with a wide smile on his face. With each step he took though, the smile faded away. It was a great night in LA and he should feel proud of himself but there was this feeling in his chest. He knew what this feeling was but he ignored it...if you don’t acknowledge it then it won’t become a reality, right? He opened the door and sat on his couch in his dressing room with a blank expression. How can emotions change so fast? He leaned back as his head hit the frame and his eyes were on the white paint. He continued to stare until he heard his phone buzzing on the table.

He got up and looked down to see the ID. A smile appeared as he accepted the call, “Hey babe. Isn’t it time for your nap?”

“I should but how could I sleep? I wanted to see my rapper boyfriend kill it at his concert.”

He let out a small chuckle and sat back on the couch with his eyes back on the white paint, “You’ve seen it live. Isn’t that enough? You don’t have to see every concert.”

“Shut up, yes I do.”

“What are you doing right now?”

“I was getting ready to go out with Joon. He wanted to do a hiking trail and I wanted new pictures.”

He let out a small sigh and rubbed his forehead, “Please be careful. The last time you went you twisted your ankle.”

“Babe, I’ll be fine. You must be so tired.”

“I feel okay. I'm a little tired but it's better than yesterday.”

“Oh, Namjoon just came in. Do you want to say hi to him?”

Yoongi let out a small chuckle and got up from the couch with his hand in his pocket, “No, I talk to him all the time. You go have fun, text me when you get there.”

“I don’t want to leave you.”

“Baby, different time zones. I’m just going to crash when I get to the hotel to be honest.”

“Okay...I miss you so much. I love you.”

“I miss and love you more. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Love you, bye~.”

When the line went dead, he kept the phone next to his ear for a few more minutes. He missed her voice and just everything about her. It was really hard, especially on days like this. He put his phone in his pocket and let out a small groan, “Fucking hell.” There was a knock at the door and he didn’t move from his spot, “Come in.”

The door opened and it was one of his security guards, “Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah...I am.”

The ride back to his hotel was silent with the radio playing at a low volume. He was staring outside the window and was watching the stars follow him. He couldn’t help but smile when he remembered his first date with Y/N.

Y/N and Yoongi have been friends for years. They met in highschool and kept in touch when he became a member of Bts. He had a crush on her during school but he never said anything to her because deep inside, he knew she would never like him. She would pinch his cheeks and call him cute, that was a clear sign that he was only a friend. He was busy with music and she was busy with her programming job. It wasn’t the right moment.

It was three years ago when he finally asked her out. It was by accident(ish?). He was leaving his studio to go to the practice room after Hoseok texted him multiple times to hurry up. He entered the room and he was stumped with a loud laugh. He looked around the corner to see Y/N leaning her head against Taehyung as she laughed at what he presumed to be a joke. Y/N was close with all the members and there were some moments that made him mad. When Jungkook would hold her hand at random times, Jin cooking with her, Jimin taking her out to eat, Taehyung making her laugh more than anyone else, Namjoon taking her on hikes and Hoseok teaching her dance moves. They spent so much time with her and that made him happy but boy did it annoy him.

Y/N looked up and waved at him. She got up from the floor and ran up to him with a small smile, “Yoongi, you didn’t text me today.”

“Sorry, I was working on a song.”

“You're always working...I wanted to go out with you.”

He raised his eyebrow and glanced at Jimin who was talking to Taehyung. He glanced back at her with a frown, “You always go out with Jimin.”

“I missed you.”

He felt his heart stop and his intrusive thoughts took over in the moment, “If you were my girlfriend then you can just be with me 24/7.”

Her eyes widened at this and stared at him, “Girl-Girlfriend?”

“Fuck, I said that outloud.”

“Yoongi, please tell me if that's true.”

He looked away from her longing eyes and sighed, “If it’s true...what would you say?”

“I would say I want you to be my boyfriend.”

Yoongi whipped his head back and it was his turn to look at her with wide eyes, “Wh-What?”

“I want you to be my boyfriend.”

“Are you serious?”

“Very...”

He grabbed her wrist and waved at the members, “I’ll be back.”

Namjoon raised his eyebrow and put his bottle back on the floor, “Where are you going?”

“Taking my girlfriend on a date.”

He left the room before he could hear their responses. Y/N was walking behind him with a smile as she intertwined their fingers together as he kept looking forward. They sat at a private part of the park as they looked up to see the stars on full display. She looked at him with a small smile, “How long have you liked me?”

“Since highschool...”

Her eyes widened at this, “Really?”

He felt his face get hot as he looked away from her, “Yeah.”

She gently turned her head to have him look at her. She kissed the tip of his nose and let out a small laugh, “Min Yoongi, I've liked you since I met you.”

Yoongi looked at her and let out a laugh, “So, I was just being an idiot.”

“We both are.”

He gently cupped her face making her look at him with a nervous glint. He leaned forward and she did the same. Before he put his lips on hers, he opened his eyes to take a final glance. Her eyes closed and her face flushed, it was a sight he will remember. He leaned in to close the distance between them and he finally felt her soft lips. He turned his head and she gladly accepted his tongue. Their tongues fought for what felt like hours and he brought her into his lap. He brought his hands on her ass to bring her more but she leaned away with a red face and lips shining away, “How can you be so shameless? We're in public.”

He rolled his eyes and started kissing her neck as she let out a small moan, “I finally got you. You think I give a fuck what others think.”

“Yo-Yoongi!”

He groped her ass to make her grind against him, “Should we go back to my place so I can show you how much I like you.”

“Yeah, you should. I don’t want someone seeing us.”

“Okay, let’s go.”

Yoongi entered his hotel and threw himself on the bed. He stared at the white paint and let a small smile appear, “I’ll see you soon...soon.”

#bts reactions #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts jungkook #bts namjoon #bts seokjin #bts taehyung #bts jimin #bts yoongi #bts x reader #bts hoseok #Bts #yoongi x reader #bts yoongi x reader #Spotify

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tbgblr2 · 9 months

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Vega and Altair's twins

This is a story I've written for a follower on here who is doing an art for story exchange, and wanted to remain anonymous. It's a story of the birth of the twins from their own characters, Vega (female) and Altair (male) - bit of a heads up, they had a previous miscarriage earlier before they successfully managed to bring this pregnancy to term, so it is mentioned in the story. Timezone is set before any modern conveniences. Hope you enjoy...

Vega groaned, a deep, sorrowful keening sound coming from her mouth as she felt the latest in a long series of contractions finally release her from it’s grip. She had been feeling them since this morning, and all through the day until finally at the arrival of dusk, she sent Altair out to do something useful rather than fussing over her.

Both of them knew that the process of getting the babies out of her will take a long time, especially with her first. Both of them had seen enough babies born between them to know it was quite often never a quick process. Both of them knew how everything was meant to happen – but when it was happening to you or your loved ones, that threw everything out of context.

As dusk settled in, and the day started to become cold, she sent out her husband to gather firewood to both heat the house, and boil water to sterilise their tools. Altair grumbled and protested, but of course, he knew that Vega had made the logical choice, and whilst he didn’t want to leave her side in this, her greatest time of need, he knew fine well that she was in the best place she could be right now, and – he admitted – the firewood stocks were getting very thin on the ground.

Vega wrapped a shawl around her as she hefted herself up off the rocking chair she had been seated in. Still very wary about removing her clothes, she had used the excuse that she would need to keep warm until the very end of her labour to conserve her energy and not waste it shivering needlessly. Her bump was massive, protruding several inches in front of her frame – along with her breasts which had grown beyond their already substantial size during the pregnancy, both ripe and ready to feed the children she currently carried.

“Two babies…” she muttered. She had seen it happen only once, and she remembered the horrible, wailing sounds the mother made as she had to go through the ordeal twice in quick succession. What she remembered well though was the pure elation that the mother had felt after all was done, and both babies were in her arms.

She padded over to the door stepped through, then stood, resting her weight against the railing outside watching Altair put logs out onto the cutting area, swing down with his axe and split the logs into shards ready for putting onto the fire. She kept silent, observing her husband as his muscles rippled as they heaved back and forth splintering logs one after another. It was only the onset of the next contraction that broke her reverie as she gripped the railing hard and let out a loud gasp.

Altair immediately dropped what he was doing and dashed over to his wife. His hands wrapped around her from behind – quite the task considering the girth of her midsection – but he had practiced a grab which gathered under her belly and in turn, gave a small lift, relieving the pressure on her abdomen.

“You should be inside, you were complaining about lack of heat earlier.” Altair scolded.

“I couldn’t just sit there and let these happen, I need to move. And I was curious how you were getting on.” Vega retorted, a smirk on her lips, lost to Altair who was behind her. “Seems that the babies wanted to say hello as well.”

Altair let go with one hand and pushed aside Vega’s long, white hair and pressed his lips against the back of her neck – an act which sent shivers down her spine, something not lost on the large man who in this setting all but dwarfed his wife.

“How are you doing my love?” whispered Altair, his breath warm against the prickling back of Vegas neck.

“You know… feeling like I’m being pushed inside out… and right now my legs want to buckle… but that’s nothing to do with our little bundles of joy.” Altair repeated his kiss, an errant breathy groan escaping Vegas lips.

“I want to rest in water. I’ve seen how good it helps with aches and pains.” Vega announced matter of factly. “And I want it warm… so that means more wood.”

“Your wish is my command my dear. Let me bring this load in and we can set the pot to boil to warm the first bath load, by the time I’ve chopped the next we should be able to get a good cycle for as long as this ordeal takes.”

“My hero…” Vega muttered as she was cut short by the cramping sensation taking her breath away, all she could do was moan through the pain until it passed. Altair stayed glued to her until she eventually regained her composure and shooed him away, complaining that if he kept on waiting every time she had a cramp, the babies would be here before the water was even warm.

Altair was reluctant to leave, but knew he must. He walked out and grabbed the first handful of wood to take it to the hearth and set it on fire, whilst he filled the large cooking pot with water and set it away. He made 3 more trips back and forth to gather the rest of the logs that were split and put them into storage for later, whilst finally making another trip to carry the bath into the main room of the house and fill it half way with cold water to be heated by the boiling water later.

During this time, Vega made a conscious effort to not make any noise, though her contractions were unrelenting. She had almost succeeded by doing her breathing exercises (in through her nose nice and deep, slowly blow out of her mouth) and keeping her eyes scrunched tight closed, but she couldn’t help but moan through the peak of the pain. Altair kept on giving worried glances over at her as he passed her on his way back and forwards in and out of the house – she never moved from her position, just swayed her hips back and forward, rocking side to side, taking small steps raising and lowering one foot then the other in some sort of meditative mantra.

Finally, Altair said the water was boiled and started to fill the tub with the remaining scalding hot liquid. He tested it time and time again, adding a little more each time until he decided the water was finally warm enough – he knew that hot water would make Vega sleepy and may hinder the progress of the labour, but water too cool would not provide the relief she desperately wanted.

He walked out and took her by the hand, leading her to the tub. As she was about to step in, he pulled her back.

“Its traditional to be naked during a bath…”

“But I do not like my body. My stomach is all red and scoured by stretchmarks, and my breasts are veiny. I can labour in the clothing I have on and pull off my underwear when it is time.”

“Nonsense… you are beautiful. Your stretchmarks are testament to the work your body has done to grow our 2 babies, and your breasts – as magnificent as they are – are like that to do what nature intended them to do and feed our children. You are beautiful, and I want you to be comfortable. All you will do if you get into that tub whilst wearing clothes would be to end up having them stick to you and be uncomfortable… and you need to have comfort, now of all times… we both know there will be scant time for comfort when the time comes to push.”

Vega smiled, her heart warmed by the words of her partner. She knew he was right of course, but it went against all her inner thoughts to do so. She stepped back away from the tub and started slowly, removing her shawl, to the encouragement of Altair. Next was the dress, and then finally her underwear wrappings across her breasts and her crotch. Finally she was stood in the middle of the room naked, and on full display to Altair.

“Good girl, you know this is for the best.” He added encouragingly.

“I know, I know… but this…” she rubbed across the expanse of her belly “is both beautiful and grotesque. You shouldn’t need to stare at it.”

“Nonsense you silly moo!” he bellowed, somewhat louder than he intended, nerves for the upcoming labour overriding his own sense of decorum – he wanted his wife to be as comfortable as possible, and her old hangups about her body were not something that would help this situation. “You are the most gorgeous creature I have ever seen.”

“You’re right of course… it still doesn’t feel right…. But I yield to your superior knowledge. Now help me into this tub, I don’t think I can balance with this load in front of me!”

That brought a chuckle to Altair’s lips, lightening the mood as he held Vega as she stepped one leg then the other into the warm water. She got down onto her knees, then finally sat down and swung her legs out from underneath her until she was submerged in the large tub up to her breasts, her belly under the water.

Having such a large tub was a pain to move around the home when they needed it for routine wash nights, but it was always made to double up as a birthing tub, and it being large enough to move around in without being restrictive – and for Vega to open her legs wide in – was part of the intended design.

The sigh as she sank into the water, the warmth soothing the aches and pains in her back was almost musical to Altair. He stared at her as she sat there.

“What?” Vega asked.

“Nothing, I’m just amazed by you. Let me get the next load of water on to heat in case we need it.”

Over the course of the next 20 minutes or so, Altair fussed around the room fetching buckets of water and stacking them up 5 deep in case they needed them and he couldn’t get away, cycling them over the fire so no specific one got too hot or cold. Vega allowed herself to relax, breathing deeply and groaning through the contractions as they happened, focusing inward to try and combat the pain she felt radiating through her time after time.

Suddenly there was a sigh from Altair as she sat and stared into the simmering water in the cooking pot.

Vega opened her eyes and looked over to him. “What is wrong, love?” though she had her own ordeal to undertake, the sigh caught her off guard enough to want to see what was up.

“I just keep on thinking about our previous baby…” referencing an earlier miscarriage the couple had suffered in Vega’s early pregnancy. He was cut off as Vega groaned, the next contraction catching her off guard herself as she was too focused on Altair to prepare herself. He jumped into action and grabbed her hands over the edge of the tub and gave her somewhere to grab. She sequeezed as hard as she could, yelling out as it hit it’s peak, the pain leaving her gasping for breath as she panted through it.

“That was tough…” she whined as she recovered from the worst of the contraction.

“Sorry my darling, I made you lose concentration.”

“No… you had a legitimate worry. I think about the earlier baby too. At first I liked to think he or she was looking over us, a guardian angel of sorts. But now, as I feel these babies move around inside of me, I like to think he or she has been reborn with their brother or sister, and we still get to meet that elusive child… though I may have to have words with it very soon after it pops out, as it has been giving me some serious heartburn and kicking me in some very inopportune times.”

The light hearted comment helped soothe Altair’s worries, and he was left smiling. He stood up and kissed Vega as she leaned her head back against the side of the tub for support, allowing Altair’s kiss to press deep into her, their tongues intertwining, the passion for each other not lost over the years.

Suddenly Vega’s hand grabbed the back of Altair’s head and pulled at his ponytail. She yelled out as a new sensation hit her. “Baby… my body, it needs to push! The first babe, it’s coming!”

“Go with it!” Altair commanded. “You have seen this happen before, know what must be done. I love you, lets bring forth our babies!”

Vega grabbed the underside of her knees and pulled them back as she roared, eyes clamped tight shut as she put effort into the push. It released and she went again, strain showing on her face as she put in the effort. Altair moved into position behind her in the tub as he pulled out a washcloth and dunked it into the tub next to his wife and rung it out, dabbing it over her forehead as she strained.

The contraction let up enough to allow Vega to regain her focus. “This is both so much different to how I imagined it, and at the same time, exactly how I expected it to feel…” she panted with effort before the next contraction begun. Altair shrugged, not fully understanding what Vega was saying, but he knew his job was to just offer encouragement no matter what Vega was feeling right now.

“You can do it my darling. That was such a good effort.”

“Pfft…” Vega made a derogatory noise. “The effort hasn't even started yet… save that for later, when the babe crowns. But here we go….” She once again pulled her legs back and pushed. A good 30 seconds passed, with 3 good pushes involved, gasping breaths between.

Altair gave what little platitude he could to the proceedings with calls out of “good, go again, baby” and “that's it keep it up” at opportune times. He placed his hands into the water and found the tub to be getting cold – noticing Vega shivering a little between contractions.

“I will be back in a second baby” as he stepped to grab an empty bucket and pull out a load of chilled water from the tub. Vega’s eyes followed him around the room as he walked forward, grabbed the bucket, sunk it into the tub and threw its contents unceremoniously out of the door into the world outside. He grabbed a full bucket and slowly emptied it into an area where the hot water wouldn't scold his wife, who yelped and let out a “quick, quick!” command as she once more pulled back her legs and got back to pushing.

Vega felt a little out of sorts without her Altair close to her as she continued to push, but there was no other option as far as her body was concerned – her ability to stop pushing was as unlikely as trying to hold back the waves at the ocean. Her movements caused the newly added hot water to swirl around the tub though and that helped give her something else to focus on other than the gripping pain around her midsection and the feeling of unrelenting fullness between her legs.

Altair looked up from his task of dropping the water into the tub and noticed something between Vega’s legs as she pulled them back.

“I see something!” he sounded excited. The commotion caused Vega to gasp and release her legs as she kept her eyes closed still pushing, one of her hands probing to the folds between her legs. There… probing at it with her fingers, was her bag of waters starting to poke out.

Vega was gasping as she managed a few words between contractions. “The waters… they haven’t broken yet. It’s bulging out of me.”

“Do I break it?” Altair enquired.

“No!” Vega was quick to admonish him. “Let it happen naturally.”

As she let off the pressure of the push as the contraction force ebbed away, the bag slipped back inside, and once more all she could feel was her skin to her fingers, the sensitive lips and nub between her legs which Altair had, on so many occasions, played with and sent sensations through her spine right to her brain. She wondered…

As the next contraction started, she only pulled back a single leg. The second hand rested on her clit and she rubbed slowly. Altair’s eyes opened wide at the view in front of him.

“You… you’re?” he was flabbergasted. “You’re playing?”

“Shhhh…” came Vega’s response. “I want to try this, see if it takes the edge off.”

Vega didn’t speak further, two of her fingers rubbed back and forth as her face scrunched up and she pushed. The effort was there, the bulge appeared back between her lips, the bag bulging out until finally she yelled. Simultaneously, the bag popped underwater, the thin membrane floating away into the body of the tub. Vega flinched as it happened, but she had no time to rest, the contraction was still upon her. She rubbed and rubbed at the sensitive area between her legs, her head lolling back as she groaned mid-contraction. She gasped “It’s working” as she finally felt the contraction release, a gasp escaping her lips.

Altair was transfixed at the display in front of him. Eyes hyper focused on the fingers doing the work. “Your… erm… your bag broke” he managed.

“I felt it… it brushed against my hand as it floated away” Vega managed, still panting with her exertion. She stopped her rubbing activities as the contraction ebbed away. “Surely the head must be close… let me see if I can feel it.”

She inserted her finger within her folds and smiled. “It’s there I can feel the head of our first baby. I can feel the progress my body is making!” she sounded elated, but it was short lived. The next contraction ramped up quickly, and she resumed her rubbing activity. Her moan started almost instantaneously this time though, and soon escalated to a yelling shout. She couldn't enunciate her words given the situation, but as the contraction started to fade she managed a weak “no bag of waters… it hurts so much more… direct skin on skin contact, rubbing… stretch…”

Altair saw the frustration in her face and scrambled around to be beside her where he laid his hands on her arm. “What can I do…” he was frustrated himself, he was so used to being actively involved, and felt useless at this point.

“Get me a drink love, my throat is dry…” groaned Vega, her voice suddenly sounding very horse and scratchy. Altair pushed himself up off the ground and headed off to get a cool skin of water. As he was away in the kitchen he heard Vega’s yowling pain echo through the family home.

He rushed back in to a scene of Vega having let the second leg go, so they were both thrashing in the water, her fingers rubbing against her clit as much as possible, her second hand thumping on the side of the bath in whatever effort she can do to stave off the pain she was feeling. Altair grabbed the hand and held it tight, feeling Vega respond, squeezing as tightly as she possibly could. He looked down between her legs and his face lit up – he could see something emerging from between them.

He leaned over and took his second hand, grabbing the one that was rubbing her clit, and moved the fingers a few inches south, to feel the skin between her lips. Vega’s eyes shot open, and Altair nodded. “It’s working!” he bellowed. The break in concentration caused Vega to stop pushing and the head shrunk back behind the lips once again, causing Vega to wail “No… Don’t go!”

Releasing the hands he held, Altair instead placed his hands on her face, and kissed her. “You, my darling, are pushing out a baby. You know it will slip, and come, and slip again. You know this in your heart. Don’t get discouraged and work with your body. You know what to do.”

Vega nodded and asked for a drink, which Altair offered her, slowly lifting the skin to her lips as she drank deeply. It was soon time to push again though, so she pulled up her legs with both hands and went back to it. Altair stashed away the skin for future access and situated himself behind Vega, his hands rubbing her shoulders as she tensed up with the push. He lifted himself up on his haunches to see if he could see anything between Vega’s legs as she pushed, but her belly was in the way, and Altair couldn’t get a good enough angle to see anything. He cursed under his breath that he didn't think to have a mirror or something set up in the bath – something he would look to bring a metalworker into the home in time once the babies were born for the next time.

Over the course of the next 15 to 20 minutes, the couple didn't move from their location. Time after time Vega went from wailing in pain, to gasping for breath, back to wailing in pain and so on as she worked seemingly without end to push the head of her first babe out from within her. Altair was frustrated not being able to do anything, just hold onto her and give her platitudes as between pushes, Vega reached down between her legs and felt the progress of her work, at first the head disappeared each time as she let off the push, but slowly and surely the head remained peeking out at the end of each push, each time the stretch feeling greater and greater for her until finally she yelled out a shrieking, horrible scream.

“It burns, it burns, crowning baby, crowning… ooooh” Her wail didn’t end until finally about 30 seconds later she grabbed the sides of the tub, releasing her legs, and almost lifted herself up out of the water, her legs scrabbling backwards trying to find purchase on the slippery base. She jumped and yowled as she finally managed a weak “the head is out… get around and check for a cord.”

Altair didn’t wait, jumping up and dashing around the edge of the tub to see the head of his child poking out between his wife’s legs. The water was tinged with blood, he couldn't tell at this point if it was just coming from within Vega’s womb or if she had torn in the process, but he put that to the back of his mind as he reached in and felt around the neck for a cord. He was happy that there was no risk to the baby, so breathed a sigh to refocus his thoughts and took in the scene.

“How is it…” Vega sounded weak and exhausted.

“It’s beautiful… our baby.” Altair managed. He then realised the thing that was playing on his mind. The head was face up. Normally babies were born face down so their spines could bend with the movements through the birth canal, but if they were in posterior position, or back to the mothers back so they came out face up, that meant it was a much tougher process. Now Vega’s wails were explained.

Suddenly Vega gasped “Hold the head” as she pulled back her legs again and pushed hard, the contraction forcing her to comply, accompanied by a howling yell all through the push. Altair held the head as he first saw the first shoulder, then the second slip out from between Vegas legs, he gently pulled as the torso followed, and the legs. Vega gasped as she felt the weight pass through and out from her, finally releasing a triumphant yell of success as Altair fished the first child out of the bath water, holding it up as high as he could, still attached by the umbilical cord.

“We have a baby girl my love… our daughter. You did it. I’m so proud.” Altair was babbling with joy as he handed the baby over to Vega to hold against her chest, who in turn was crying tears of joy at the completion of the first of her two labours. The babe was making loud and screeching yells until she finally found Vega’s breast and almost without hesitation, latched on for her first feed.

Life was calm and quiet, at least for a few minutes. Altair didn’t make much noise, just simply stand and observe the currently 2 most important people in his life. Vega made cooing noises at the baby, who was more than content to suckle, having undergone her own tortorous journey a short while earlier.

Vega’s wincing face signified the calm had passed and the contractions starting up once more. “Is there anything you need my love?” Altair enquired, very conscious that the baby added an extra dynamic to how she had pushed before.

“No… I don’t feel the need to push with this… let me just…” she groaned, unable to finish her sentence. Altair knelt next to her in the tub, one hand stroking the head of his daughter as the other hand rested atop Vegas on the side of the tub. He looked over to her and noticed the water with its pinkish hue, and the vibrations of Vega’s body signifying her shivering. He dipped his hand into the tub and realised that over the time the water had become chilled.

“I can’t keep you in here, the water is filthy, there’s blood and viscera in here, as well as other waste… I think you should get out.”

Vega nodded. “I think I'll need a hand… my legs are a bit wobbly no doubt.”

Altair knelt to the side of the tub as Vega wrapped her free arm that wasn’t holding the baby around his shoulders. Altair supported Vegas weight under her arms as they stood up together, the blood pink water running down her body as she stood. She took a tentative step out of the tub, and with Altair’s help, finally managed to get both feet onto the ground and stand in front of the fire, using the heat to dry herself off.

The baby didn’t let this movement and jostling distract her, as she continued to feed. The sensation of feeding causing Vega’s contractions to ramp up, and her second breast to leak, something which went unnoticed as the water sloshed up and down over her belly when she was in the tub, but the milky white droplets dripping onto her belly and rolling down the rounded surface was mesmerising to both Vega and Altair now she was out of the water. The grunt of a contraction pulled them both into the moment though as Vega managed to say “I’m pushing…” as she stood bow legged in front of the fire, one hand gipping tight to her newborn and the other reaching out for Altair to grab.

Vega focused on a long, hard push, gravity aiding her in her standing position. Grunting through the length of the contraction she suddenly gasped. “What was that?”

Altair looked down and realised the baby was breech. “That… that was a leg.”

Vega gasped, a look of panic on her face. She had of course seen this before, and she knew that giving birth to twins most likely meant one was upright and one was upside down in the womb, just for the babies to take up the optimal space… but when faced with it happening to you, when you’re already overwrought from the earlier parts of the day… she wasn’t fully aware of it all.

Altair jumped in. “Focus, baby… focus. Nothing new. Just need to push out the body then the head rather than the other way around. Nothing you haven’t done before.” Vega could only nod, the next contraction upon her, her thighs dipping to open up into a squat, her groaning push resulting in the flop of the second leg out from between her own.

Altair realised that Vega was shivering, either a side effect of adrenaline, or simply just because she was cold from the water not having fully dried off her body, so he took the opportunity in between contractions to have her rest against a chair as he dashed to grab something from the bedroom.

Vega watched wide eyed as Altair left, the contraction forcing her to keep on pushing, the next baby’s hips now dangling between her legs. It was moving, slowly but surely, her already raw lips spread around the girth of the body. She whimpered as she pushed, not feeling the need to yell or tire her throat just yet, but very wary of the pain building as she pushed more and more towards the width of the head.

Altair dashed back into the room at full sprint, carrying a fur with him to drape over Vega’s shoulders. She kissed and thanked him as he took back over holding her weight, Altair’s arms wrapping around her torso, in the space between her breasts and her belly. She rested the baby on her thigh as she lowered down into a deep squat, her weight supported by Altair, the widening of her pelvis as she lowered down almost heavenly compared to the tight space she could manage by keeping her balance by herself. With an almighty push, the body was born to the shoulders, the deep squat meaning the legs and body rested against the floor.

“Stay low my baby, push hard… keep that deep squat so our child doesn’t have far to fall when it’s born.” Altair instructed. Vega couldn’t respond verbally, but nodded, her focus remaining entirely on pushing, now the contractions were on top of each other.

Altair started to fret, this breech baby enough of a concern to set his nerves alight and as he held his wife closely whilst she struggled through her ordeal, his eyes darted around the room to see if there was something, anything, he could use to aid in this situation. He suddenly saw the large dressing mirror over the far side of the room. Gently rotating Vega’s body so her legs would follow suit, he moved her the quarter circle he would need to get a view over her shoulder of the reflection in the mirror. At this point Vega had not opened her eyes for over a minute and was pushing with all her might.

Altair saw the red, stretched lips of her vagina stretching out over the slowly emerging head, the baby dangling between her own legs like some sort of parody of a puppet that had it strings cut – just hanging there completely unable to move. But then he realised that it was moving. The legs kicked and the arms wiggled left to right. The baby was fighting to get out as much as it’s mother was forcing it out… but the lack of any where for it to get its limbs to touch were entirely to its detriment.

“Vega, darling, look forward.” Altair said. The calmness of his words cut through Vega’s concentration and she looked forward. That’s when she saw it too. Her second baby. The first still on her thigh, the second dangling there. The head reaching a wide point, and whilst she could only see the back of it, she felt the nose right there tugging against her inner walls. She knew she could do it, she could see the head coming out, and she pushed.

She yelled out, eyes no longer closed watching the show in the mirror. Her squat deepened, her hips widened, and as her voice cracked, her battle-worn throat no longer able to make any more noise the head slipped out.

The noise could be described as a splat. The baby slipping out from between her legs, a splash of amniotic fluid following it down and puddling around the shape on the floor. The room was eerily silent after all the commotion in the moments preceding it. Not the first baby or the second made a noise. Altair gently lowered Vega down to sit as he dashed around in front of her to see to the second baby.

Gathering towels he rubbed the baby vigorously, trying to stimulate it. “Breathe, breathe!” he gasped, panic now starting to set in at the baby’s silence. As if the two children were intrinsically linked the little girl’s eyes stared wide at her sibling, no noise came from her. Then suddenly it came. A watery weak cough, then a second go, much stronger than the first, and the second baby’s wails echoed around the house.

The first baby joined the chorus, and along with Altair’s and Vega’s tear-streaked faces, relief swept over the room. Altair looked down at the bundle held in his arms, still connected to it’s mother by the umbilical cord, and saw between its legs.

“We have a son!” he exclaimed. Bringing him close to Vega, handing him over and then finding something to tie and cut the cord. Finally, the baby was released from it’s connection in the womb, and the four sat in a huddle in the room, simply existing in the moment and not considering anything else.

Finally it was time for Vega to bring forth the placenta, and after a short while, Altair rubbing Vega’s deflated belly as she pushed with the contractions, two separate meaty lumps were caught in a bowl for examination. She laid the babies down and along with Altair, they checked both over and were happy everything suggested everything had happened exactly as it should.

“The two placentas would suggest that they are not identical.” Altair commented.

“I can see that dear… one has a penis, another has a vagina.” Vega chuckled at the obviousness of the situation that Altair had not realised as she kissed and hugged her husband. She certainly needed sleep, and she just hoped her two new additions would give her that small mercy after the night she had bringing them forth to the world.

#birth kink #fpreg #birth #labor kink #pregnancy

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wannabelife · 1 year

Text

telepathy – myg

paring: yoongi x afab reader

genre: smut

warnings: phone sex, fingering, handjob, descriptive, multiple orgasms, dirty talk

a/n: i missed yoongi on stage so muuuch!! like wdym tour ended?? :((( did u all watch the final?? also, i cant believe he's already leaving :((((( here's a lil something to help us cope :)

and there you are again, screen in front of you while agust d performs live but far away from you. you dont really know why you summit yourself to this. you could just ignore it and go to bed, but you can't.

since tour, yoongi and you can not always call each other, because of schedule, work but especially timezones. being away for quite some time just makes you a bit more needy than usual. also, the way he's sweating on stage, hip thrusting to nothing, growling, and working his hands on the guitar doesn't help at all.

you decide to shut the computer screen since this lack of attention is getting you frustrated. there's nothing more you can do.

a hour fly by of you trying to sleep, but your mind just can't seem to leave you alone today. you turn around on the bed to light the lamp on your nightstand as you grab your phone, checking the time, it is already past midnight. you know yoongi's concert had already finished around this time. you stare at your phone contemplating if you should call him or not.

maybe you should, whats the real bad in that? at least, you could try. you disk the numbers and wait for an answer on speaker.

"hello" yoongi's voice echoes in the room, sounding lower and raspier than usual because of all the singing and shouting on stage. you cant put a finger on it but at the moment it hits your ears, you feel your stomach tingles.

"hi, its me" you reply hating that you sound weak.

"i know its you" he let out a giggle and you can sense he's smiling "how are you?"

"im fine, what about you? was the show tiring today? you looked excited"

"i dont really feel it since im just happy to be on stage" you nod at his words even tho he cant really see you. after a small time of silence, he adds "were you watching?"

"what? your show? of course i was"

"what do you think?"

"what do you mean what i think?" you laugh a little because why would it matter "i like it... i like it a lot... its quite frustrating tho, just watching, not able to act— hm, act on... i mean, its nice, i like it a lot"

you can hear him laughing out loud on the other side while you just want to hang up on him and ignore everything. why would you ramble and stutter like that? there's no real reason for it.

"act on what? you didnt finish"

"i cant really come up what i was going to say"

"i know you are lying, yn. just go ahead and say it what you were thinking. act on what?"

"act on... my thoughts"

"and what is it that you imagine?"

"why does it matter anyways? they are just thoughts"

"why cant you just say you miss me? aren't you enough needy to ask for me?" you blush at his straightforwardness, not so unusual but always surprising.

"i am. i am needy for you, yoongi. i miss you so much. i want you but cant have you right now, and its so fucking frustrating" you groan more to yourself but that affects him too.

"tell me what is it that you miss so much, maybe i can help"

"your touch, yoongi. your perfect mouth on me"

he inhales after hearing you, his cock threatening to get hard at just the thought of it. the thought of you. he misses your touch too, the way you suck him like no one else does, the way you know all his right spots. the pretty sounds you make when he's on you and the way you two can go from raw and needy to passionate and slow. he misses having multiple rounds with you.

"does my slut miss it that much?"

you whine at the possessiveness in his voice, its true, you're his little slut after all.

"come on, bring the toy i bought you to your side. let me help my baby cum"

you hate how excited you feel at his words, jumping out of bed in one montion to do what he asked you, taking all of your clothes off in your way back, staying spreed naked for him even tho he cant see you.

"im already naked for you"

"how needy" he smirks to himself "send me a picture just to make sure you're right for me"

you open the camera on your chat room with him, making sure to open your pussy with your two middle fingers so he can see it perfectly. as you send it, you can hear the notification ring on the other side.

"you look so beautiful. lay down for me" he hears the bed sheets making a sound as you get comfortable and when it dies down, he assumes you're just right to get it started "i need you to suck your fingers for me, understood? when you are done bring them to your beautiful nipples"

you do as he says and after you suck them wet with your saliva, you use it to carass your nipples. your eyes closing at the feeling.

"babe, tell me how many fingers have you sucked?"

"four" as you deliver your answer, he lets out a low moan at the thought of it, he always knew your mouth can take a lot "what you want me to do?"

"keep massaging your pretty titties" you keep going but this is not enough right now, like he heard your thoughts, he speaks again "now pinch your nipples for me" you moan at the amazing feeling hitting you "i miss biting your pretty nipples and getting those moans myself" you cant help your legs closing for some kind of friction, your core begging for attention.

"i need more, yoongi-ah" you whine.

"alright alright, you can touch yourself now, but you cant touch your clit"

you whimper, a bit desperate trying to reach the pleasure he's keeping away from you.

"what's that? are you complaining?"

"no" as you obey him, you bring your finger to your core, teasing your entrance.

"tell me, how wet are you?"

"not much" you slide your finger up and down your bare pussy, not reaching your clit as he asked.

"gotta prepare that tight cunt, right?" you are just able to babble a small hmm as an answer as you start to feel the tension building between your legs "you can get on your clit now since you're doing so good for me, such a good girl"

as you slide again on your folds, you finally get where you need the most. you start drawing circles on your clit in a small motion at first. the wet noises getting louder each stroke as you pick up your pace. feeling like he deserves more too, you get the speakers close to your core so it can capture the wet sounds as you masturbate "can your heart it, yoongi? it's for you, all because of you"

"you're doing so great, my pussy slut, getting me so hard"

you keep moaning, your pussy clenching and as if he was there with you, feeling you himself, he speaks up "can you enter a finger for me?"

"yes– yes, oh my god... thank you, thank you" you enter with your middle finger, going in and out slowly to ajust. as you're fingering yourself, you get your thumb on your clit again doubling the feeling. you add another finger whimpering at the sensation inside you.

you're able to hear yoongi's bealt getting undone "baby, you are doing so good, keep going for me" you hear muffled sounds of movements on the other side of the line as a spitting sound hit your ears. yoongi spits on his hands, getting it to stroke lazily at his hard cock.

"curl your fingers, baby, make yourself cum"

you curl your two middle fingers inside you "its not enough" you grunt.

"i know, i know. my fingers and cock can reach so much more, make you feel so much better" you whimper, not able to stop the moans because you cant have him right now "just keep going, you're doing great" you fasten your fingers, moaning louder when your other hand start to work faster on your clit.

"who's cunt is it?"

"yours, yoongi. only yours"

"that's right. mine. mine tight beautiful cunt, fits me so perfectly" you can start to hear yoongi working on his cock, the sound getting louder, him leaving low gasps every now and then.

"im close" the built on your stomach getting closer to the edge each minute as your head is thrown back and eyes shutting.

"cum for me, yn" and you do. after his command, you let it go. goosebumps spreading all over your body as you mewl.

"get the toy i asked you" his voice sounds out of breath compare to before. your mind going blank, having a hard time to process his words after your high, but you get the sex toy either way. bringing it to life, the buzzing sound being easy to be heard "good girl" he praises you for obeying so nicely everything he asks.

the screen of your phone lights up, and you can see yoongi is facetiming you. you answer fastly, placing it on the desk in front of your bed, so he has a great view of it and you. he's half naked, his cheeks a bit rosy and his hand on his cock. he grazes his thumb on its head, collecting more precum from it as he sighs in relief.

you spread yourself in front of the screen, finally bringing the toy to your clit. feeling sensitive post orgasm, you whine at the slight pain it brings you that it's not bad at all.

"get another finger inside, i know you can take it" you moan and slowly add the third finger inside you, curling it up, making you see stars "fuck, look at me, yn" he pleads.

you do. he's faster on his length as he brings his other hand to caress his balls. yoongi moans audibly now, watching you without blinking, nipples hard, your fingers working on your cunt, and he can see it clenching around them too.

you fight the urge to close your eyes to keep the eye contact, the overstimulation hitting you as you circle the toy on your clit. your legs threatening to close as the built starts again "that's right, my babe is going to give me another one"

"cum with me, yoongi, please" he hears you, swearing at the view, at your words, at the feeling. your body goes stiff for a second, your legs trembling and a whine coming out in high pitch as you are cumming again. the toy leaving your hand hitting the floor with a sound, just the three fingers fighting to prolong your orgasm.

yoongi cant stop staring at your form, your pretty sounds and your eyes rolling back from the pleasure "fuck, im close" he says and you finally start to relax, all the cum dripping from your core weting the mattress as he cant help it anymore. he's coming undone with a moan.

both of you breathing loudly and fast, as your chests goes up and down, waiting for the comedown.

"you are amazing" he sighs.

#yn #bts #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts smut #yoongi fanfic #suga smut #suga fanfic #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts yoongi #min yoongi imagine #yoongi ff #yoongi smut #yoongi scenarios

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littlexscarletxwitch · 1 year

Text

── ༊*·˚⋆ 𝗱𝗶𝗳𝗳𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲𝘇𝗼𝗻𝗲

paring: florence pugh x fem!reader

tag(s): fluff, a drop of angst, some comfort, sad imagine, established relationship, long-distance relationship, flo being an amazing gf

warning(s): language, heartbreak (?), grammatical errors, unedited

word count: 1.8k

note: I cannot write a sad ending for the life of me lol, but one day I will. And you won't see it coming (jk). I thought I would never post this fic, when the song came out I had like the main idea but never proceed to write it down. But I'm glad I finally wrote it, it was long time overdue lol. I'm not a native english speaker, so please let me know about any sort of mistake. Love, M <3

note 2: So I made the mistake (wait was it really a mistake? I dunno) to listen to 'Needed me' by Rihanna while finishing up this fic. What do we think about smut for part 2 ??????

requests are open! + check my rules + masterlist <3

You were laying on your bed, eyes closed, pretending everything was fine, when in reality it was quite the opposite.

“I hate this,” you mumbled to your phone for Florence to hear.

“I know, baby… Me too. I just wish I could be there with you,” she said as she hugged herself, pretending that it was you who was holding her.

The yawn you were trying so hard to hold back finally slipped out. “Yeah, you keep saying that…”

The words rushed out of your mouth without giving them a second thought, you didn’t mean to sound mean or angry, but you had and it had already reached her ears.

“Yeah, well, I’m working. You know that,” she immediately replied, she sounded both hurt and angry, and you cursed yourself for that.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m sorry, I’m just really tired. Today was a really long day, I’m sorry, baby,” the last thing you needed was to pick another fight for such a small thing over the goddamn phone.

You breathed out, trying to calm your own thoughts. It felt like the only thing Florence and you would do was fight over the phone. The two of you could only share a couple of hours together through the little device, and the two of you would waste it over some stupid fights. The whole situation was stressful, not just the fights or your job, but being so far away from each other that it physically hurt. And it hurt even more that you two would be constantly fighting.

You heard her taking a deep breath, she felt the same as you, you knew it. She was tired and stressed and had a lot going on at work. But she wanted to be with you more than anything, hold you, kiss you, touch you and whisper sweet nothings to your ear.

But you couldn’t tell that by her deep huff. You figured she was tired about this, about you, about this whole situation which did no good to either of you.

“Maybe… maybe we should take a break…” you muttered, not wanting to be heard but she already had.

As soon as the words left your lips you regretted even having thought of them. You didn’t mean it, that was the last thing you could ever possibly ask for in this world. But maybe it was what she wanted and needed. Maybe she was just too scared to pronounce the words so you had to do it instead.

A break? Florence thought, not wanting to believe the words that came out of your mouth. Things were pretty bad if you wanted to take a break. Shit, she really screwed up. Was that really what you wanted? A break? A break away from her and her shit. It would make sense, right? You were tired, she was tired, but were you really tired of her? You wouldn’t have said anything if you didn't mean to, right?

“Yeah, maybe we should. If that’s what you want, love…” she let her head fall against the wall, trying to find some kind of support, praying to the universe that you would take back your request.

Well, there it was, she wanted to take a break. And who were you to deny her such a thing? You were willing to give her everything, this wasn’t the exception, even if it broke your heart.

You cleared your throat, afraid your voice would betray you. “Yeah, okay,” you said, fighting back the tears.

“Okay…”

As soon as you heard her, you hung up, not wanting her to hear you as you sobbed. You felt your heart shrinking, a burning feeling creeped throughout your entire body, and the more you cried the more you felt like your head was about to explode. And you laid there, hand clutch to your stomach, feeling cold and alone.

You felt Billie cuddling your feet, trying to give you some comfort since she could sense your sadness. And even though all the poor thing wanted was to show some support to one of her favourite humans, she unintentionally made everything worse, since she was a reminder of her owner. The two of you lay there, you crying your heart out, until the both of you dozed off to sleep.

[…]

The moment you hang up, she realised what had happened, that it wasn’t a dream, more like a nightmare if that were the case. But it was real, it had happened and she didn’t stop you. Why didn’t she stop you?

“Fuck!” she cursed, throwing her phone on the bed.

She took her hands to her head in disbelief, the last moments of her life going through her mind on repeat over and over again.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” she screamed at the top of her lungs.

She was angry. Angry at herself for not having done something about it, she should have told you that it was a mistake, that it wasn’t what she wanted, not even close. At her work, she loved working, she really did, but was it really worth it when it ruined the best thing that has ever happened to her? —you. At the distance between the two of you, at the stupid body of water keeping you seven thousand miles away from her. She was even angry at the stupid different timezone for constantly keeping the two of you apart.

She couldn’t help to imagine you laying in your shared bed, probably wearing an old oversized t-shirt of hers, or maybe not given that you two had broken each other's heart, now sleeping right where she was supposed to be.

She couldn’t stop hearing your voice in her head, a fucking break? What were you thinking? What was she thinking? She should have told you that it was crazy, that it was a mistake, that it was completely bullshit.

Her head was starting to hurt from all thinking, her heart began to shatter as the realisation sinked in and as her anger slowly faded away sadness began to wash over her. She felt her stomach churn at how wrong this whole thing felt.

She was supposed to be running lines, but she couldn't concentrate anymore as the only thing that popped on her mind was you. She had to do something about it, she couldn't leave things between you two like this, she couldn’t go to sleep that night knowing that she let you go that easily.

“Screw it,” she said to herself, not giving her actions a second thought or else she feared she might back down.

She grabbed her phone, grateful that it hadn’t landed on the floor, and made all the calls she needed to. She was going to fix this, she had to.

[…]

You felt the sunlight creeping through the curtains even though your eyes were still closed. Slowly and carefully you opened them up, as you began to gain consciousness you felt like your head was about to explode. The events of last night came rushing to your mind like a slap to your cheek. The call, the words that were spoken, the tears that were shed and Billie cuddling at your feet offering you some comfort.

You got up, brushed your teeth, took a painkiller and went back to laying. You began to think things through. What were you supposed to do now? Did Florence expect you to leave her house? Who was going to take care of Billie while she was gone? Should you just gather your things and leave? Toby can take care of Billie, he used to do it before you came along, that would be no problem. Shit, what were you going to tell him once you got there with Billie?

You shook your head, letting the thoughts fade away as it was all becoming too much too fast and too real. You could already feel the tears burning your eyes just by the thought of leaving the place Florence and you had been sharing over the past two years.

You decided that you were done thinking for the moment. You found some ice cream in the fridge and made your way to the living room. You dropped down on the couch, a blanket over your shoulders, and snatched the remote control from the coffee table.

You were just about to watch your comfort show when you heard the jingle of keys. Your heart dropped, who could possibly be?

“Y/n?” you heard as the door flew open. “Y/n, where are you?”

You didn’t answer, the words wouldn't come out of your mouth.

“Ah, there you are,” Florence said, she seemed out of breath, as if she had been running or something.

“What are you–?” but she cut you off right away.

“No, let me go first, okay?” she didn’t wait for an answer. “I have this whole speech planned and it’s already fading away so…” she took a deep breath. “This is bullshit, Y/n. I’m not having this. A break?! Are you serious?” she said, stepping closer to you.

“Florence—.”

“I’m not done yet, love,” she was now sitting right next to you, her warm hands reaching out for your cold ones. “I get it, we had a rough couple of months, always bickering at each other. But that doesn’t mean we should take a break, I’m not going to let you go, Y/n.”

“But you agreed—”

“I only agreed because I thought that was what you wanted, but it’s not even close to what I want. That’s why I’m here,” you felt the tears in the corner of your eyes, your bottom lip slightly trembling. “I’m here to tell you: no, I don’t want a fucking break. I don’t give a shit about my work, about the contracts that I signed. The only thing I care about is you, and I’m going to make it work, make us work. Because I love you, Y/n. So fuck your ‘break’, you hear me? Fuck it.”

You looked at her soft green eyes, even though your vision was half blurry you could still make out her watery eyes.

“That was a great speech,” you joked, your heart getting warmer as a smile formed on her lips.

“Yeah, well a 10 hour flight gives you a lot of time to think about—”

Your lips stopped her from talking as you threw yourself on her, connecting your lips in a much needed kiss. A kiss that you had been dreaming of the last couple of months.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” you whispered over and over again on her lips as you kissed her.

You were straddling her, both of your hands cupping her cheeks caressing her soft skin. You felt her hands sneaking around your waist, gently squeezing your skin. And then moving them further down to rest on your ass, pushing you more into her chest.

Much to your dismay, you pulled away from her lips, feeling the need to actually pronounce these words: “I missed you, so so much, Florence.”

“Me too, baby. Me too,” she said, leaving kisses all over your neck. “In fact, let me show you how much I missed you,” her hot breath gave you goosebumps, as you threw your head back, giving her more access to your sensitive skin.

Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! <3

-M

#florence pugh #florence pugh x reader #florence pugh x fem reader #florence pugh x you #florence pugh x y/n #florence pugh imagine #littlexscarletxwitch's fic #Spotify #[🎧⊹♡] based on songs i love

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minisugakoobies · 2 years

Text

Timezones | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Genre: a little angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, established relationship, Non-Idol!AU

Rating: T

Warnings: mentions of illness (not specified), mentions of ill parent, a very soft Jungkook and reader dealing with sudden long distance, special guest appearance by Bam, yes there is a noraebang and fried chicken because last week's lives honestly felt like something a fanfic writer wrote, sorry if this makes you sad but I needed to write it

Word Count: 1.4K

Disclaimers: Obviously I don’t own BTS - they just inspire me

Summary: Only thing that keeps us apart / Is a different timezone

A/N: I'm never getting over Jungkook's lives from last week. The absolute boyfriend vibes, combined with me listening to "Timezones" by Måneskin today, led me to write this. Thank you @sugalaritae for lending me your talented eyes!

I didn't specify what country reader is meant to be from, just that their family at one point while they were a child lived several time zones from where they lives now, long enough for them to think of it as their childhood home.

There are some things going on in my life that have inspired some of the plot, so… I hope when the time comes that you have to deal with such things, you have someone like Jungkook here to support you. It makes all the difference in the world. 💕

The notification comes in at a little past noon. You stare at it for a second before tapping the screen. A familiar pair of brown eyes come into frame, blinking slowly beneath a cloud of dark fluffy hair.

"Koo? Why are you awake?"

"Hi, baby," Jungkook grins, deflecting your question with the sweetness of his smile. His head rests on his tattooed forearm as he gazes at you. "Miss you."

The words make you sigh, releasing a tension you didn't even realize you were holding. Carrying your phone into your bedroom, you sink down onto the mattress of your childhood bed. "I miss you, too."

It's been over a week since you said goodbye at the airport. Eight days, six hours, and thirteen minutes, to be precise. Every tick of the clock sends that number higher and higher.

"I was just thinking about you. Wanted to check in. How're you feeling?"

You shrug, burrowing deeper into the pillows. "I'm okay. Woke up late. Just killing some time before the appointment this afternoon."

He hums, nodding. Your boyfriend opens his mouth and then closes it again. You know what he wants to say, but he doesn't need to. You know he'd be here with you if he could.

This trip came up unexpectedly. But that's how it always goes when a parent gets sick. Everything's fine until it's not. It was easy enough for you to drop everything and fly halfway around the world, but Jungkook's just starting his career now, after a long period of false starts and dead ends. He didn't have the time banked and you weren't about to ask him to give up his job to come home with you.

Home. There's that word again. It's disorienting, being back in the place where you grew up, and feeling like you're somewhere new. So little has changed here, yet it feels completely unfamiliar. Home is now several time zones away.

Home is where he is.

Jungkook's voice pulls you back to the tiny device in your hand. "What time is it there?"

"Just past noon." You don't ask him what time it is, fully aware that it's the middle of the night there. "Why are you still up?"

"Eh, got home a while ago from drinks with Jin-hyung and was hungry, so I got fried chicken. Now I'm too full to sleep."

You give him a look. "How many times do I have to tell you, you can put some of that in the fridge? You don't need to eat it all in one sitting!"

Jungkook scrunches his nose in delight at your reaction. "I know I don't need to. I want to."

You just roll your eyes in defeat. It's not a new topic of discussion. Your boyfriend has a big appetite.

There's a gentle clicking sound from offscreen, nails tapping on hardwood, and then a big brown nose pops into frame as Bam puts his head on his dad's arm, wanting to know what he's looking at. Bam's technically your dog, too, since the two of you adopted him when you'd moved in together three months ago, but you're not a fool. He's Jungkook's baby.

"Bammy!" you coo, and Jungkook tilts the phone so Bam can see your face. His tail whips Jungkook's side in his frenzy. "Hi Bammy, I miss you!"

"Bam's been such a good boy, keeping me company while you're gone, haven't you?"

Jungkook buries his nose in Bam's face while planting kisses on the dog's snout, and you laugh when he sniffs the dog. Someone else might find it weird, but you're used to his sensitive nose. He's always sliding up behind you in the kitchen or bathroom and pressing his face against the back of your neck to inhale deeply. You stopped wearing perfume at his request, when he told you how much he loves your natural scent.

Right now, you'd give anything to feel his arms around you and hear that little snff snff up close. Your sigh is a little louder than you intend, because it draws Jungkook's focus away from his dog.

"You okay, baby?"

"I am. Really. I should… I should probably eat something." Food always helps. It's one of the things your father taught you. "Keep me company while I make lunch?"

Jungkook grins again, twirling something in his hand. "How about I do you one better?" he asks, and you realize he's holding his karaoke mic, and likely has been this whole time, just waiting for the perfect moment to reveal it. "Any requests?"

As you warm up your leftover takeout, Jungkook serenades you with a selection of your favorite songs. He incorporates little bits of choreo in some of the performances, like the risqué moves he does while crooning "Unholy" that make you choke on your rice. As always, his sweet tenor makes your heart flutter while he effortlessly riffs his way through a private little noraebang, just for you.

When your lunch is done, you sit in your father's old armchair, tucking your legs up on the sagging cushion. Jungkook's eyes are closed as he sings, and you know he's lost in the music. It's one of the things you love most about him, the way he gives his all to whatever he's doing. No matter what it is, he's always committed. Devoted.

You're so lucky to have him.

"Koo," you finally say when he pauses to pour himself a beer. "Baby. It's so late there. As much as I'm loving this concert, you should get some sleep." As a graphic designer, he works from home, so he doesn't have to wake early for a commute, but he's still human. He still needs sleep.

He fiddles with his frosted mug, pushing it back and forth on the table by where his phone is propped. "I know. I just… I don't like sleeping in our bed without you. It doesn't feel right." He frowns, dark brows knitting together in a look of anguish. "It doesn't feel like home when you're not here."

The last bit of tightness in your muscles dissipates as you melt at the heartache in his voice. "Oh, babe, I wish I could be home with you right now. Take you to bed, wrap my arms around you, and cuddle you to sleep."

"I wish you were here, too." The stars in his eyes seem dimmed by the sadness that hangs there. "And I'm - I'm sorry that I couldn't be ther-"

"I know, babe. I know." He falls silent at your gentle interruption. You've never hated the miles between you more than this very moment, wishing you could hold him close. Knowing he feels the same. "But this, you calling me like this to check in on me, singing to me - this means so much."

"Be better if I could hold you."

"Mmm. True." You smile playfully, chest warming when he smiles back just a little. "But don't worry. Even though you're there and I'm here, I still - I still feel your love." Of the two of you, he's the crier. But you find yourself swallowing thickly around your words. "So thank you."

Jungkook nods, letting his chin fall to his forearm again. "I'm always here, baby, any time you need some love. Time zones can't keep us apart."

"I know." You mirror Jungkook's position, watching his eyelashes flutter as exhaustion finally seems to hit him. "I love you, Koo."

"Love you too. Let me know how the appointment goes."

He yawns, and in the corner of the screen you see Bam curling up next to him on the couch. As soon as you end the call, you know they're going to fall asleep right there together.

"I will. Go get some sleep, babe."

He murmurs something that sounds like a very sleepy goodnight, and then the call disconnects. The screen fades to black, but in your mind you still see his soft smile.

Stretching, you peel yourself out of your father's chair. The appointment you have today is the one you've been dreading, but you'll be okay. In just a few more days, you'll be back home.

Masterlist 💜 Find me on AO3 💜

Taglist 1: @babycoffeefire; @parkdatjimin; @reliablemitten; @yuugehn; @ut-dixisti; @hesperantha; @seokjinger-ale; @bangtanintotheroom; @taeshuworld; @nch327; @hannahbee12719ficrecs; @7minsuga96; @dvalitaes; @thatlongspringnight; @miscelunaaa; @acquiescence804; @itsirisz; @velvetskize; @starbtslove; @bruisedscrewedandtattooed; @minesuga; @greezenini; @aznstoner; @jkkkkkay; @xuxibelle; @soeur-de-ame; @boraborabts; @signmybook; @bbl32; @codeinebelle; @here4btsfics; @itbtoblikethatsometimes; @kookprada; @addictedtohobi; @shatzkrinslinzki; @jaiuneamesolitaiire; @joonjulyagust-d; @jinsquishes; @btsgotjams27; @allamericanuniverse; @pleaseshutupsara; @guvgguk; @goodgollyitslolly; @laylasbunbunny; @goldensugarywaffles; @jadda98; @lovelye79; @moonacholy; @kookstempo; @luaspersona

If your URL is italicized, tumblr won’t let me tag you! 😤 Check your settings!

#jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #bangtanarmynet #thebtswritersclub #btscarnivalnet #bangtanoasis #btshoneyhive #possumswrite #fic: timezones #jungkook fluff #bts fluff #jungkook oneshot #diverseinsertknet

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julianalvarez9 · 2 years

Text

whipped / christian pulisic

request: Are you still taking requests? If so can you do soft Christian wanting your attention and he’s just cuddling up to you sleeping on your boobs and then you post about it only for his teammates from club and country call him whipped 🥹

summary: christian only wants cuddles and attention when he returns home after an away game.

word count: 0.9k

going away always was the worst for christian.

he didn't like not having you around to tell you all his thoughts, console him after a loss or cheer for him after scoring a goal. but what was worse about not having you around was sleeping. christian didn't consider he had trouble sleeping, but he sure was restless during his night hours when your body wasn't pressed alongside his.

it had been a fun fact to discover, when you two first slept together, that his disturbed sleep pattern was fixed when you cuddled up to him.

"are you sure you'll be okay? i tend to move quite a lot when I sleep" christian, joining you under the covers just as you were doing grabby hands to pull him into your warm embrace. he gladly complied, letting out a warm breath fan into your skin. you softly whispered, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. "christian, i don't care" pressing a kiss alongside his temple, you continued explaining "also, you've been yawning for the past 30 minutes. I'm sure you'll be asleep before you know it".

and it was true. he didn't know how, attributing the achievement to the double training session he had at cobham earlier on the day. but after sleeping with you following a free day the team had thanks to their latest win, he started to think that only you could make him sleep as deeply as he did when he was at your side.

and now that he wasn't, well, he could only hope his racing thoughts lulled him quickly into a deep slumber, so he could get home faster. but after the clock struck midnight, he knew that the sleep he would get tonight would be minimal. christian didn't want to follow your around everywhere, scared that you may find it slightly overwhelming, so during these days that you spent apart, christian tried not to bother you too much, even if you already said it was fine. so, he took your suggestion at heart, and knowing that you were probably still awake due to being a few hours behind his timezone, he messaged you.

christian sent: i can't sleep:(

baby<3 sent: just one more night, yeah?

baby<3 sent: free day at work!

baby<3 sent: we can sleep in tomorrow

you had picked both mason and christian from the airport, and due to your british friend being too tired to drive back home, your boyfriend assured him it was fine if he stayed at his place. after dropping to the store to buy a few snacks and drinks, the three of you were driving back to christian’s place, where you decided to watch a random movie before calling it a day.

but your poor boyfriend, who hadn’t been having the best sleep for the past few days, had other plans.

"i swear i never see him sleeping," said mason in a hushed tone, pointing with his head at your boyfriend, that was peacefully sleeping in your chest. you smiled when you lowered your gaze to appreciate his facial features, peace clearly visible on them. "just my magic powers i guess" you joked, which was answered with a quiet giggle coming from mason’s lips. unknown to you, he had taken a picture of you two and was ready to send to the group chat a few of the guys shared, more than eager to make fun of his friend.

hours later, when his fellow british friend had gone home, christian awakened from his peaceful nap. following the delicious smell that was coming from the kitchen, your boyfriend found you making dinner. he planted a kiss on your cheek and you smiled, gratefully, before asking him to get the table ready so you two could eat.

after dinner, christian went up to take a shower while you put the used items in the dishwasher and started getting ready to go to bed. you realized that you hadn’t checked your phone for the past few hours, and smiled when you saw mason’s message with the picture he had taken of you and christian before, snuggled up on the couch. ready to tease christian a bit, you posted it on instagram, just before he made his way towards the bed, dressed only in loosely joggers and with a towel drying his wet hair.

"baby" christian groaned, a few moments later, when he had picked up his phone to get it charged at his bedside table. "why did you post that?".

you smiled, know what he was talking about. "you looked cute in it, love. my big baby boy" pinching his cheeks like a little kid, which only elicited a whimper from him. "but they are making fun of me" christian replied, a big pout in his lips while he got comfortable against your chest again, ready to watch a movie and get his beloved cuddles until sleep caught onto him, and you dragged his body back to bed.

"the boys?" you said, questioningly. he just nodded, and the vibrations that arose in your chest after starting to giggle made him lift his head up so he could look into your eyes. "what's so funny, baby?".

"tell them to stop bothering you, or i can call the girls, and they will send me a hundred pics of them being the biggest babies on earth".

+ BONUS

#christian pulisic x you #christian pulisic x reader #christian pulisic imagine #christian pulisic x y/n #football x y/n #football imagine #football x reader

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brisquad-unit-4402 · 9 months

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christmas cookies

it's christmas now in my timezone. so happy holidays from unit 4402, and a lovely winter ahead. please stay warm comfy and loved wherever you are. this was inspired by a george strait song of the same name sans vox. he is one of the few country artists i trust. please be kind to him and enjoy my guilty pleasure corny christmas music fave

(btw i've always wanted vox to do a karaoke and sing at least one george strait song i just know he'd eat it up. tbh christmas cookies is the song i associate with vox the most even more than new cydonia. you have to understand how important the imagery of vox singing this song is to me i can't describe it in words nor fanfic)

tags: gender neutral reader, established relationship, fluff, food descriptions

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A comfy night in while the air turns icy outside. Your home runs warm, especially as you pass by the oven, and when you lean over Vox's wing-and-shoulder to watch him mix some icing together.

"Pass me the powdered sugar, Reader?"

"Sure thing."

"Thank you, baby."

Before you can utter any sweet nothings back to him the oven interrupts you as the timer goes off. You slip on one of Vox's mitts (a ruby red with a paw-print pattern and a scorch mark on the side, what were you expecting) and open the oven door.

The sweet smell of freshly baked cookies pours out from the oven, and as you set them on the cooling rack the scent grows only more enticing. Vox insisted on making cookies from scratch this year rather than from a box, and you have to admit, you don't even need to sneak a bite to admit he was right. The scent and golden-brown color is already miles ahead of the batches you made alone in the past.

The heat spreads behind you, trademark Vox and his demonic blood. Your suspicions are confirmed once he peers over your shoulder just as you did, and swipes an oven-hot cookie from the rack.

"What the—Vox!" You lightly slap his hand. "Those are hot!"

"I was born in Hell," he says, mouth full of cookie. He swallows. "Mmm, tasty."

"They aren't even frosted yet!"

"It's a good goddamn cookie, Reader, what do you want me to do, say they taste like charcoal?"

"No, Vox, I want you to be patient and wait for them to cool and decorate them like a normal person before eating them! We're going to have a full bowl of icing and no cookies to ice if you keep taking them like that!"

He pops another cookie into his mouth much to your playful dismay. "What kind of normal person doesn't eat a cookie straight out of the oven?" Then he takes another, places it on a napkin, and sets it on the counter in front of you. "Would having a cookie yourself make you feel better?"

"Normal people that don't have heat resistance like you." You stare down at the cookie. It has a soft crack through the side from cooling improperly, so of course it would be perfect for a taste test. "But... thanks."

Vox brightens. "Eat up. Er, in ten to fifteen minutes when cooled."

You nod, and watch as Vox shovels cookie dough onto a new pan. You snuck a tiny Santa hat onto one of his horns earlier this evening, and even now the pompom at the end sways as he moves the next batch into the oven.

The oven settings chirp, chirp, chirp until the temperature and timer is set.

"Should be fine to eat your cookie once those are out of the oven," he says. Baking your holiday sweets was an equal effort, but his lips are curved upwards and his wings raise in quiet pride. "I can tell you what it tastes like if you're too impatient to wait."

He's right. You're impatient. So you take Vox's hand to lower him just enough for your mouth to meet his.

You return back down from your tiptoes a second later, sugar on your tongue and sweetness all the way through. "Damn, we did great."

He scoffs but his wings let out a happy little flap. "If you wanted me to kiss you, you could've just asked."

"Well, we have—"your eyes flit to the timer—"Ten minutes until the next batch is done." You squeeze his hand. "Gotta spend the time somehow."

The corners of Vox's lips curve a little higher. He sweeps you up only to seat you on the clean side of the counter, just so you can see that eager, dorky little grin at eye-level, wings around you and arms on either side. "'Tis the season for giving, mm?"

"Cheeky bastard." You close your eyes as if you were irritated, but you're the one that leans in first, and the taste of the cookies spreads through your mouth as the minutes go by.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

✧. ┊ ⁭masterpost ✧. ┊ ⁭kofi

#vox akuma #vox akuma x reader #nijisanji en #nijisanji x reader #luxiem #luxiem x reader #4402 writes #vox akuma fluff #vox akuma headcanons #vox akuma imagines #someone send me an ask i need to rant abt how fucked up it is that my V0x Akum4 brain receptors are the exact same as my George Strait ones

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pryings · 18 days

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TOA Anniversary Munday

thank you neffi for this template!!!

Celebrating TOA and the people who contribute to make our group what it is.

Repost, don't reblog. Only fill in what you feel comfortable sharing!

Happy anniversary, TOA! Here's to many more years spent together.

Name: ruaidhrí (said pretty much like the english name rory and if you want to spell it that way that's fine too, ik irish names throw people off)

Pronouns: he/him

Birthday (no year): 25th of october!

Where are you from? What is your time zone? i live in colorado and my timezone is MST

How long is your roleplay experience? i don't know exactly how many years since i sometimes have years where h don't rp but i've been rping on and off since i was 11-12.

How were you introduced to roleplaying as a whole? oh gosh, so ff.net used to have (maybe still has, i literally have not been on that site in ages) these like... forums? and i joined one for elder scrolls rp a little after oblivion came out. i was far and away the youngest one there but everyone was so nice in helping me turn my character into a proper oc with like... backstory, a real personality, etc. after that, i spent a lot of time using it to try and grow my creative writing skills.

How were you introduced to TOA? honestly i just stumbled across it randomly! i had just replayed a few fe games and was looking through some tags and thought it might be fun to try fire emblem rp (i'd done some on indie tumblr back in the day, as well as in an mfrp a little bit, but never fire emblem exclusive rp) so i sent arden to check it out and, well, here we still are.

Do you have any pets? simon (mini poodle), john hancock (tabby cat), and tim & geeb (fluffy black cats)

What is your favorite time of year and why? (Season, holiday, general period) early spring! i also like late fall for its temperature, but i dislike snow/sleet/wet socks so spring is preferable because it's not very snowy here!

What is your IRL occupation? blessedly unemployed (health issues have prevented me from working aha)... i used to work IT though!

Some interests and things you like/enjoy? i like birdwatching, reading academic articles about ancient civilizations, and making espresso drinks

What non-Fire Emblem games do you play? currently enjoying bg3 + doing a dragon age replay (in preparation for veilguard). outside current, i really like most single-player rpg type games (esp. with customizable character), stealth games (dishonored favorite), and Identity V is the first asymmetrical horror mobile game developed by NetEase for

Favorite Pokemon type & Pokemon: my favorite pokemon ever is alakazam (and its whole line) i've loved alakazam foreverrrrr! favorite type is steel, though! apart from my psychic baby most of my other favs tend to be steel types

Tell us some funfacts and trivia about yourself! oh gosh i'm so bad at fun facts...

- i can put both my feet behind my head but i can't touch my toes - my favorite non-ancient empire to read about is austria-hungary - my cat tim was rescued from Outside

How did you get into Fire Emblem? friend's cool older brother was playing a bunch of the games in a seemingly random order. when i'd hang out at that friend's house sometimes we'd sit and watch. i asked him to lend me some and he did!

What Fire Emblem games have you played? i have now played all of them! (last year when i answered this i hadn't technically played them all, but i'd seen playthroughs and watched let's plays of all of them at the very least)

First & Favorite Fire Emblem games: a bad translation of fe4 was first, por is still my favorite—but tbh there's not really one i dislike

List your 5 favorite Fire Emblem characters across the series! - KNOLL (promoted to number one he's my special guy) - reyson - canas - ashnard - pandreo

Who was the first character ever to make you go “ooh I like this one in particular” and why? Can be any context and reason! QUAN—i have such a distinct memory of seeing him come in but i don't remember my initial thought, only that he would have my heart forever

Any Fire Emblem crushes? 😳 vander. duessel. hardin.

If you’ve played (or are familiar with) the following games, who was your first S support? Who would you S support nowadays? - Awakening: first was sumia! i don't have a set nowadays because i've done a different one on each playthrough - Fates: first was xander, would probably still do xander if i were to replay - Three Houses: first was seteth, if i replay i'll go for hanneman - Engage: first was pandreo! next time i plan to do ivy though

Favorite Fire Emblem class? i like shapeshifter classes! beasts, dragons, laguz, etc. i just think they're fun to play with

If you were a Fire Emblem character, what would be your class and stats? Would you be playable? oh gosh, i'd be an infantry axe unit probably. middling starting stats but high growths if you really work at making me good (there would be heated debates over whether the necessary time investment would be worth it)

If you were a Three Houses character, what would be your affiliation? black eagles!

If you were an Officers Academy student, what would be your boons, banes and potential budding talent? axe boon, heavy armor bane, budding talent in faith magic (could be classed into an fe:a style war cleric and it would be my suggested goal)

If you were an Engage character, which nation would you originate from? i want to say brodia!

How do you pronounce TOA? 🤔 toh-ah

Current TOA muses: just knoll <3

Past TOA muses? robin, niles, almedha, reyson, hardin, iago, perceval, lachesis (i think that's all?)

Who was your first TOA muse? If you no longer have them, can you see yourself picking them up again? my first muse was m!robin and thankfully i am spared any temptation on picking him up as he is currently being written.

Do you believe you have a type of character you gravitate towards writing? (If you filled this out last year, has this changed in any way?) i'm kind of all over the place, aren't i? i like characters where i can poke at hidden depths but ones who aren't too closely guarded. i like characters who are shy, withdrawn, standoffish, guarded, etc. in some way but who open up when spoken to. i don't think this has changed since last year, i've been writing for a long time and kind of know my comfort zone.

Do you have characters or types of characters you don’t think you can handle writing, but wish you could? boisterous/loud and over the top characters always challenge me, but i've never really managed to make them work, which is a shame because i tend to enjoy lively characters!

What kind of scenes, situations etc do you believe you enjoy writing the most? (If you filled this out last year, has this changed in any way?) -i love writing threads where setting/scenery is a focus, where i get to sort of use the landscape as a bit more than set-dressing - i enjoy throwing my muse at characters who mistrust him for whatever reason, and like to explore the kind of slow, mutual understanding that comes from two people getting to know one another - i really just like putting him in situations in general, forcing him to socialize—he's a very withdrawn character so any excuse to have him meet new people is very enjoyable

Do you have any scenario in mind for your muse(s) that gets you thinking “man I hope I get to write this one day”? nothing specific! i have kind of an arc for him but it's loosely-defined right now

Favorite TOA-related memories? HAPPYLAND WAS SO MUCH FUN. sincerely i loved the interactions he had there <3

Present or past tense? i default to present, but adapt to what my partner prefers on this!

Normal size text, small text, no preference? small text, bolded dialogue. just easier for my eyes to take it in that way.

Got any potential muse delusions to share? 😉 oh gosh. i recently had to go down to just one muse because my health is not so good, but i will admit i already have a few delusions. if i can get myself back to a spot where i feel like i can write a second, someone may return.

#⁺ . ✕ ◞ out of character ⋅#tried to fix a typo and unformatted the whole thing #ok

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