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theonottsbxtch · 3 months ago

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I LOVED YOU FIRST PT3 | FC43

part one | part two |

an: this is the most requested part three. i fell asleep so many times writing this but i’m waiting for tate’s new song so it gave me something to do. not proof read.

wc: 8.3k

It was nearly dawn when Franco turned off the engine, but the silence felt hollow. He sat motionless in the cockpit of his car, his hands still gripping the wheel even though he had finished his lap over an hour ago. The empty track stretched before him, a stark grey line splitting the waking sky, and for a fleeting moment, he considered taking off down it one more time, just for the noise.

That had been the only reason he'd even bothered coming out this morning. Noise. Anything loud enough to cut through the thick numbness that had settled over his life the last two years. Even racing—his childhood dream, his only real thrill—felt distant, just another repetition in an endless loop of things he used to care about.

He let go of the wheel, his fingers stiff and aching, and slumped back into his seat. The inside of the car still smelled new, though he’d driven this car all season. But everything in his life felt new in the wrong way, like he was breaking in someone else's skin.

Franco closed his eyes, but there was no escape there either. As much as he tried to avoid it, the image still came easily: two years ago, his wedding day. The hushed gasp of the guests as he had walked back down the aisle alone, the weight of his father-in-law’s hand on his shoulder. And her eyes—his childhood best friend, his first love, his confession to her still raw in his throat. He'd bared his heart, thought he was finally doing the right thing, only to watch her turn him down, her gaze steady and unwavering.

It was strange how clearly he could remember it. She had moved on. He was too late.

And yet here he was, two years later, sitting in the emptiness his choices had carved out. His marriage was the result of the aftermath—inevitable, unstoppable, once her father had coerced him into making it right. He’d been a fool to think he could live with it, that he could somehow build a life out of that hollowed-out choice. But every day he woke up, and every day it was the same. A stranger beside him, a public charade. He was trapped in a marriage more binding than he had ever imagined, one that had closed off any other life he might have had.

A tap on the side of the car startled him out of his thoughts. His agent, Eddie, looked at him expectantly, his face creased with concern. Franco forced himself to meet his gaze, pulling on a blank expression he’d perfected over the last two years.

"You good, man?" Eddie's voice sounded so distant for some reason.

Franco forced a nod. “Just getting in some practice.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow. "You finished over an hour ago."

Franco shrugged, not offering any other excuse. What could he say? That he no longer felt the rush, that even the raw thrill of racing at 200 miles per hour left him feeling nothing? It would be admitting too much. He wasn’t sure he could handle what Eddie would say if he knew.

As he finally climbed out of the car, his gaze drifted toward the track, that endless stretch of asphalt, and for just a second, he felt a flicker of what it used to mean to him. Freedom, purpose, maybe even love. But that had been before her—before he had thrown it all away, thinking he could have her back. And now all he was left with was this: the shadow of a life he hadn’t chosen, the memory of a love that had been real once, and a future he couldn’t bring himself to face.

Franco shook his head, stuffing the thought away. "Let’s just get through today" he muttered to himself, the words a quiet vow.

Tomorrow, he’d put on the act again.

The house was silent when Franco walked in. He closed the door softly, slipping off his shoes out of habit rather than any real desire to keep the peace. She was there, sitting in the dimly lit living room, curled on one end of the couch with her legs tucked under her. A book lay open on her lap, though her eyes weren’t moving over the words.

They hadn’t spoken much in days, maybe even weeks, except for the occasional small-talk exchange over morning coffee or at some public event. When they were alone, it was as if they were two strangers who’d agreed on a routine. She looked up as he walked in, and he wondered if she was waiting for him to speak first.

But he didn’t. He simply nodded, moving past her as if it were just another evening in this quiet, loveless house. He heard her shift, a quick intake of breath, and he paused, feeling her eyes on his back.

“I cheated,” she said, her voice flat, almost as if it were a statement she’d practised a thousand times, something she needed to let out before it grew stale.

Franco slowly turned to face her, letting the words settle, though he didn’t feel anything sharp or raw. Instead, there was just the dull, familiar weight of something like resignation. He studied her face, waiting for the anger or betrayal to come, but there was nothing. Just the same emptiness that had been there for two years.

“Okay,” he said, his voice calm, resigned.

She blinked, her expression faltering. “Okay?” she repeated, as if she hadn’t expected that response. Her brow furrowed, and she set her book aside, sitting up straighter. “That’s it? Just… okay?”

He shrugged, slipping his hands into his pockets. “What do you want me to do about it? You’ve already done it.”

She searched his face, a flicker of frustration and hurt sparking in her eyes. “Why aren’t you angry, Franco?” Her voice was louder now, cracking slightly. “Why don’t you care? Why don’t you… love me? What did I do wrong?”

For the first time that evening, he felt something stir. Not anger, exactly, but a kind of distant ache. He looked at her—really looked at her—and saw the exhaustion in her face, the years of pretending, of building a life on a foundation that had never been real. And he knew, somehow, that she felt as trapped as he did.

“This isn’t about what you did wrong,” he said quietly. “I just… I don’t have it in me to love you, not in the way you want.”

She shook her head, her eyes brimming with frustration. “But we were supposed to be in this together. My father… Your team. The whole world expects it. I have tried, Franco. I’ve done everything I could to make this work. I just wanted you to see me, to try…”

He sighed, looking away. “We’ve been pretending for two years. It’s not that I haven’t seen you—I just don’t think we were ever meant to see each other this way.”

Her shoulders slumped, the fight draining out of her. She stared at her hands, twisted together in her lap. “So what now? We just keep living like this, sharing the same house, putting on a show for everyone?”

Franco didn’t have an answer for her. He didn’t know what they were supposed to do, what the next step would even look like. They were bound together by more than their vows—by the expectations, the pressure, the image of a life neither of them had chosen. He knew she deserved better than this emptiness, the hollow echo of what might have been.

After a moment, he sat down across from her, resting his elbows on his knees, his voice barely more than a whisper. “What do you want from me?”

She looked away, biting her lip, and for the first time he saw the loneliness in her eyes. "I don’t know," she murmured, her voice quiet. "I don’t know if I ever knew."

She looked down, fidgeting with the hem of her sweater, and then let out a long, quiet breath. "I’ll speak to my father," she said, her voice steady. “We’ll break it off. There’s… someone else. For me, I mean.”

Franco nodded, feeling only a strange sort of relief. “Okay.”

She gave a small, sad smile, as if she’d expected more—anger, maybe, or regret. “I’ll make sure he keeps the sponsors on your team,” she added, her voice softening. “It’s the least I can do.”

Franco shook his head. “He doesn’t have to. I don’t want you worrying about that.”

For a moment, she looked at him with something almost like sympathy. “Franco… it’s not your fault,” she said.

He frowned slightly, unsure what she meant. “What isn’t?”

She looked away, gathering her thoughts, and then back at him, her gaze unwavering. “It’s not your fault you still love her after all these years. Some things… they just don’t go away.”

His throat tightened, and he couldn’t find the words to respond. Her words hung between them, exposing something he’d tried to bury, something he hadn’t even admitted to himself. His silence was answer enough.

“She was a very lovely woman when I met her,” she continued, her voice softer, almost wistful. “I’m sure she hasn’t changed. I’m sure you two would be perfect together.”

He looked down, swallowing the ache in his chest. For all their distance, she’d seen more of him than he’d realised, even if they had never truly belonged to each other. Maybe she’d known all along. Maybe that’s why they’d been drifting from the beginning, like two people playing their parts, waiting for the script to finally run out.

He stood up, running a hand over the back of his neck, his voice low. “I’ll sleep in the guest room tonight.”

She nodded, her eyes full of an understanding that somehow made this harder. “Okay. Goodnight, Franco.”

He gave her a brief nod, then turned and headed down the hall, his footsteps soft against the hardwood. The walls of the house felt like a cage, closing in with every step, but he knew that maybe, for the first time, there was a way out—for both of them.

Franco closed the door to the guest room, feeling the weight of everything settling over him. He felt like a visitor in his own life, just as he had every day for the past two years. He slipped off his watch, set it on the nightstand, and reached for his phone to set an alarm.

Just as he did, his mother’s name lit up the screen. She called him every night, their routine barely wavering since he’d left home all those years ago to chase his dream. He answered, feeling a bit of the tension ease from his shoulders.

“Hey, Mama.”

“Oh, finally, you picked up! I thought I’d missed you tonight, hijo.” she said, her voice bright and warm, filling the room with a bit of comfort he hadn’t known he needed.

“Sorry. It’s been… a long day,” he replied, not sure where to start even if he’d wanted to.

“Oh, mi amor, I’m sorry to hear that,” she said, sympathy lacing her voice. She paused, her tone shifting to something lighter. “Well, you’ll never guess who I ran into today.”

He smiled slightly, settling back against the pillows. “Knowing you, mama, it could be anyone.”

“You flatter me,” she laughed. “But no, this one you’ll want to hear. I ran into your chiquita's mama at the market this morning.”

At the mention of his childhood best friend, Franco’s heart gave a small, involuntary jolt. He kept his voice casual, though he could feel his pulse quicken. “Oh yeah?”

“Guess who’s moving back home?” she said, her voice bright with excitement. “She’s coming back without that boyfriend of hers—what was his name, Angelo or something? Anyway, I don’t know what happened there, but her mama didn’t say much, just that she’ll be moving back in soon.”

Franco fell silent, her words sinking in. She was moving back. Back to the same town, back to where they’d both grown up. It was strange hearing it now, after all this time—especially tonight. He tried to imagine her there, close by, after years of being nothing more than a memory, a lingering ache. She hadn’t been in touch since his wedding. They hadn’t spoken, not really, since that day he’d confessed everything.

“Franco?” his mother asked, her voice pulling him back. “You still there?”

“Yeah,” he murmured. “Yeah, I’m here. Just… surprised, I guess.”

“Well, I thought you’d be pleased to know,” she said gently. “I don’t know why she’s moving back, and I suppose it’s none of my business, but I hope she’s doing alright. I always liked that girl.”

“Me too,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper.

He wondered what could have happened to bring her back. She’d seemed happy, at least in the few times he’d seen her in the public eye over the last two years—smiling, vibrant, that spark still in her. Whatever had drawn her back, he doubted it was anything good.

“Anyway, I just thought I’d tell you,” his mother went on, a hint of cheer in her voice. “I’m sure you’ll see her around when she’s back. Goodness knows you two could catch up. I’ll let you get some sleep, though. You sound tired, love.”

“I am,” he said honestly. “Thanks, mama.”

“Goodnight, mi amor,” she said softly. “Try not to worry so much. Things have a way of working out.”

He hung up, setting the phone down on the nightstand, but his mind kept circling back to her, the unanswered questions piling up. Why was she moving home? Why now, after everything?

He lay back, staring at the ceiling, feeling the quiet gnaw at him. For the first time in a long while, he felt something stirring beneath the emptiness—something that he hadn’t let himself feel since that day two years ago. A flicker of hope, of curiosity. And maybe, just maybe, the faintest hint of longing.

Franco woke up to an unsettling silence the following morning. The kind that felt thick, heavy, and somehow different from the usual quiet he’d grown accustomed to in this house. He rubbed his eyes, groggy, his mind still tangled in the remnants of last night’s conversation with his mother. She was moving back home. The thought had settled somewhere deep, like a stone sinking to the bottom of his chest, and he hadn’t stopped wondering why she’d come back.

He rose slowly, crossing the hall toward the master bedroom to grab his things, but as he reached the door, he noticed it was open just a crack. There was an odd stillness inside, an emptiness. Pushing the door open fully, he froze.

The wardrobes were wide open, their shelves bare, nothing left but empty hangers. He scanned the room, taking in the strange absence of her things: the jewellery stand, her perfumes, even the photos from the dresser—all gone.

On the bed, her wedding band glinted in the morning light, sitting atop a folded sheet of paper. Heart pounding, Franco walked over and picked up the note, her familiar handwriting scrawled across the page in clean, deliberate strokes.

"Go live a life you’ll enjoy. Go get the girl."

He read the words over and over, the reality slowly sinking in. She had really left. It was over, finally—no more strained conversations, no more pretences, no more empty rooms they shared out of duty. She had made the choice for both of them, letting him go in a way neither of them had been able to until now.

He let out a slow, deep breath, feeling a strange mixture of relief and regret. She had given him a way out, but he felt a twinge of sadness for the life they’d tried and failed to build, and for the woman who’d known him well enough to let him go.

After a moment, he picked up his phone and scrolled to his agent’s number. It rang twice before Eddie answered, his voice thick with sleep.

“Franco? It’s barely morning. You okay?”

Franco ran a hand through his hair, still processing everything. “Yeah. Listen, Eddie, I need you to book me a flight.”

“A flight? Where are you going?”

“Home. To Argentina.” He paused, and for the first time in two years, the words felt right. “I just need to go home.”

Eddie hesitated on the other end. “You sure about this?”

“Yes. I’ll figure everything out when I get there,” Franco replied, feeling a resolve he hadn’t felt in years.

Eddie sighed, but there was something like approval in his voice. “Alright, I’ll get it sorted. You’ll be on a plane by tonight.”

“Thank you, Eddie.” Franco hung up, glancing around the room one last time. He pocketed her note, her words still echoing in his mind.

True to Eddie's word, Franco was on a flight six hours later. The journey was a blur of cramped seats, stale air, and the faint taste of regret that clung to the back of his throat. The turbulence was relentless, like some cosmic joke, as if the universe itself wanted to remind him that nothing had ever been easy. He tried to sleep, but the aching pull of everything he’d left behind in that house—his marriage, his choices, his dreams—kept him awake, staring out at the dark sky, thinking of all the roads that had led him here.

By the time he landed in Buenos Aires and caught a car for the long drive north to his family's old village, the exhaustion had crept under his skin, weighing him down like a thousand unspoken words. But the quiet beauty of the countryside—the sun setting over fields that stretched on forever—started to soothe him, even if just a little.

The car ride seemed endless, every minute dragging with the weight of his thoughts. But when the familiar sight of his family’s village finally came into view—cobblestone streets, thatched roofs, the scent of freshly baked bread hanging in the air—something inside Franco began to shift. The city felt miles away, the noise, the crowds, the weight of his past life all falling away as he crossed into the place that had always felt like home.

The moment he stepped through the door of his childhood house, all of that exhaustion seemed to vanish. The house was exactly as he remembered it—warm, full of life, and alive with the kind of energy he hadn't felt in so long. His mother’s soft humming from the kitchen filled the air, the scent of her cooking familiar and comforting in a way nothing else ever had been.

“Mama?” he called, stepping into the kitchen.

She looked up from the stove, a warm smile spreading across her face as she caught sight of him. It was like the years had slipped away in an instant, and before he could even move, she was across the room, enveloping him in her arms.

“Oh, hijo,” she said, pulling him in tight. “You’re home. You’re really home.”

Franco closed his eyes for a moment, inhaling the comforting smells of garlic and simmering stew. It was the same as it had always been. His mother’s embrace felt like a balm, her steady, familiar presence filling up the spaces in his chest that had been empty for so long. He let himself relax into the hug, feeling like he could finally breathe again.

“Yeah, mama,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m home.”

She pulled back, looking at him with concern now, her gaze soft but knowing. “You look like you’ve been through a storm. What happened, Franco?”

He shook his head, a slight smile tugging at his lips. “It’s… been a hot minute.”

She stepped back, eyes still lingering on him as she turned toward the counter, gesturing for him to sit. "Come, sit. You must be starving."

As he slid into the chair at the table, his mother’s eyes flickered to his left hand, where the ring had once sat. The absence of it didn’t go unnoticed.

"Franco," she said softly, her voice delicate but insistent, “Where’s your wedding ring?”

He froze, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the spot where the band had once been. The question hit him harder than he expected, like a weight on his chest.

He took a deep breath, his words coming out slow, almost reluctant. "I… I never loved her, Mama. Not like I should’ve. Not like I should’ve loved the person I married."

His mother didn’t flinch, didn’t offer a shocked look or try to comfort him with false reassurances. Instead, she simply nodded, as if she had known all along. The silence between them was calm, understanding.

"I knew," she said, her voice gentle but firm. "I knew from the start, Franco. I could see it. You were never... you were never right with her."

He exhaled, a small weight lifting from his chest. His mother didn’t judge him. She hadn’t expected him to make some fairy tale of a marriage. She had always known him better than anyone.

"Why didn’t you say something?" he asked, the question slipping out before he could stop it.

She smiled softly, her hand brushing his cheek. "You had to learn it on your own, cariño. I couldn’t take that from you."

He sat back in his chair, letting her words sink in. This was home. The quiet understanding, the unconditional love. The very things he had been running from for so long. And now, in this moment, he felt like he was finally allowed to come back to it.

His mother leaned in, brushing the hair from his forehead as if he were still that little boy who had left for the big city years ago. "You’ll be alright, Franco. I know you will. You always find your way back."

He smiled, his heart full, and reached across the table to squeeze her hand. "Thanks, Mama," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I think I’m ready to find it now."

His mother studied him for a moment, as if weighing whether to say more. The comfortable silence stretched between them before she finally spoke, her voice casual, but with a slight undercurrent of something he couldn’t quite place.

“You know, she moved back this morning,” she said, a soft note of curiosity in her tone.

Franco looked up sharply, his stomach tightening at the mention of her. “She did?”

His mother nodded, stirring a pot on the stove. He shifted in his seat, trying to steady the flutter of emotions that were beginning to rise in his chest. She was back. The thought of her living just next door made his heart ache in ways he wasn’t prepared for, especially after everything that had happened. It felt like a sign, but it also felt like a question—one he didn’t know if he was ready to answer.

“I don’t know what’s happened,” he said, the words coming out quieter than he intended. “But I’m sure it’s for the best. She’s probably just trying to figure things out.”

His mother gave him a thoughtful look before turning back to the stove. "It’s not easy, you know. Coming back here after all those years. Maybe she just needs some time. Things haven't been easy for her, either."

Franco nodded absently, his mind already racing, a thousand thoughts flooding his mind. He’d always wondered what it would be like if they were close again—if the years between them could just vanish, and they could pick up where they left off. But that was before everything had changed.

Before he’d made a mess of everything.

“I’ll give her space,” he said after a long pause. “She clearly needs it if she’s come back home. I don’t want to crowd her, not like this.”

His mother looked at him for a long moment, her gaze soft and full of the kind of love only a mother could offer. She didn’t press, but Franco could tell she was seeing more in him than he was letting on. She always had that way of reading him, even when he didn’t want to be read.

“I think that’s wise, Franco,” she said quietly. “But don’t wait too long. Sometimes, the right things—people—can slip away if we don’t take the chance when we can.” She gave him a small smile, her eyes gentle but full of a mother’s wisdom. “Don’t make the same mistake twice.”

He swallowed hard, looking down at his hands. The right things... people. Was she talking about her?

He wasn’t sure. What he was sure of was that he had already lost so much—lost the girl he had once called his best friend. His true love. That much was clear.

But he couldn’t make the same mistake again. Not with her. Not now.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I won’t. I’ll give her the time she needs… and then, I’ll figure out what comes next.” He forced a small smile, looking back up at her. “But first, I think I need to settle in here, Mama. Just for a bit.”

She smiled warmly at him, nodding as she moved to set the table. “Take your time, cariño. You’ve earned it.” Then she added softly, almost to herself, “And when you’re ready, you know where she is.”

Franco nodded, the weight of her words hanging in the air like a promise he wasn’t sure he was ready to make. He had to sort through the years of distance, the pain, the confusion, and the mess he had made before he could even think of approaching her again.

That night the house was quiet as Franco prepared for bed, the kind of quiet that settled deep into the bones. The weight of the day’s emotions, of the journey—of everything—pressed on him like a physical force, but he couldn’t quite shake the feeling that something was still missing.

He stood in front of the mirror, his eyes scanning the reflection—a man who hadn’t truly looked at himself in a long time. His face was a little more worn, the years of racing and the strain of the past two had carved lines into his features. And yet, there was a boy in those eyes too—the one who used to laugh freely, who used to dream of more than just what life had given him.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, the quiet ache of the past two years swirling in his chest again. Where did it all go wrong? He’d asked himself this so many times, but the answer had never been clear. His life had seemed like it was on track, until it suddenly wasn’t. Until it all came crashing down, leaving him here, in his childhood home, looking at a version of himself he didn’t recognise.

Where did it all go to shit?

He turned away from the mirror, needing a moment of peace, a change of scenery. The night air felt crisp as he stepped out onto the balcony, the soft night breeze brushing against his skin. The village was quiet, the distant sound of crickets filling the silence. The stars above him were impossibly bright, as if they had been waiting for him to step out into this space to show themselves.

For a moment, he just stood there, taking it all in. The vast sky, the deep silence, the comfort of being home, of being away from all the chaos of the life he’d left behind. He closed his eyes for a beat, letting himself breathe.

Then, he froze.

From across the yard, on the roof of the house next door, a figure was sitting—her silhouette outlined by the soft glow of the stars.

Franco didn’t know how long she’d been sitting there. The sight of her—after all these years—was like a jolt to the chest, a flood of old memories and emotions crashing over him.

At first, he considered turning back into the house, pretending he hadn’t seen her, pretending the universe wasn’t trying to push him into a conversation he wasn’t ready for. But his feet stayed rooted to the ground, his eyes locked on her figure, so familiar, so her. He hadn’t expected to see her tonight, especially not like this. Not sitting on the roof, in the same place they used to sit together as kids, watching the stars and talking about everything and nothing.

He had no idea how to approach her.

Before he could make up his mind, she spoke, her voice drifting through the night air, quiet but unmistakable. “Staring’s rude, you know.”

Franco’s breath caught in his throat, his chest tightening at the sound of her voice. It had been so long since he’d heard it, and yet it felt like no time had passed at all.

He stayed where he was, still unsure, a little frozen by the way his heart was racing. “I didn’t think you’d notice,” he finally said, his voice coming out quieter than he intended.

She tilted her head slightly, but didn’t look directly at him. “I always notice,” she replied, a faint smile playing on her lips, though her tone was more playful than anything else.

He let out a small laugh, a bit surprised by her nonchalance. It was just like her to act so casual, even in the middle of something heavy.

“I wasn’t planning to interrupt,” he added, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. "Just thought I'd leave you to it."

She didn’t respond right away, but he could see the way her gaze flickered toward him, though she didn’t move. After a beat, she spoke again, her voice quieter now. “You came home.”

“I did,” he said, his heart racing as he stood there, not knowing where to go from here. “Took me a while, but I’m here.”

She nodded, the soft rustle of her hair catching the starlight. "Good. I didn’t think you would."

Franco swallowed, the weight of the unspoken words hanging thick between them. "I... didn’t think I would either."

There was another pause, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Just... heavy, in a way that felt like they were both waiting for something. Waiting for the moment when they could go back to being what they once were. But Franco knew, deep down, that it wasn’t going to be that simple. Too much had happened between them, too many years spent apart.

Her voice broke the quiet, her words soft but inviting. “There’s space next to me. You should come up here.”

Franco hesitated for a second longer, unsure, but something in her tone, a subtle pull, urged him forward. He glanced around briefly before deciding to take a chance.

Carefully, he climbed over the small stone wall dividing their balconies, his fingers finding familiar purchase as he pulled himself over. The moment his feet hit the roof, the memories of their childhood came rushing back—sitting on the very same roof, talking about everything and nothing, watching the stars as if they were the only two people in the world.

It felt surreal, like no time had passed at all, even though everything between them had changed.

She was already sitting cross-legged, her back turned slightly toward him, but she patted the spot next to her, silently urging him to join her. He moved toward her, then sat down, the cool roof beneath him grounding him in a way he hadn’t expected.

When he finally reached the top, she shifted to make room, and before he even fully settled beside her, she was resting her head on his shoulder. It was as natural as breathing, a comfort he hadn’t realised he’d been starved for.

The night seemed to stretch on forever as they sat together, not speaking, just sharing the same space, the same memories that lingered between them like a soft, delicate thread. It was as though the silence held all the things they couldn’t say out loud.

Finally, it was her who broke the quiet, her voice low and tinged with regret. “Sorry I never replied to your letter.”

Franco’s heart stuttered in his chest at the mention of the letter. He hadn’t expected her to bring it up, not after everything that had happened. Slowly, he turned his head to look at her, his voice barely a whisper. “You... you received it?”

She nodded slowly, lifting her head from his shoulder but not fully pulling away. She stared up at the stars, her fingers absentmindedly tracing shapes in the air. “Four days ago,” she said, her voice soft and distant, as though the words were hard to say.

Four days ago.

The words hit him like a punch to the gut. The letter. The letter he’d written years ago, before everything spiralled out of control, before the wedding, before he called it all off. The letter where he had laid bare his feelings for her—telling her everything he’d never had the courage to say before. Telling her that he loved her. That he’d leave his fiancé for her. That he wanted to be with her.

The letter had been the final step, the desperate confession that he couldn’t hold inside any longer.

“I… I didn’t know,” Franco muttered, his throat tight. “I sent it because I thought you needed to know. I thought you needed to hear it.” He paused, looking down at his hands. “I didn’t expect you to just—ignore it.”

Her breath hitched slightly, and she looked over at him, her eyes meeting his with an intensity that made him ache. “I didn’t ignore it,” she said softly. “I didn’t know about it. Angelo hid it from me.”

Franco froze. Angelo. The same guy she’d been with all those years, the one who had kept the letter from her. The weight of it hit him hard, a cold knot in his stomach. “He hid it?” His voice barely came out above a whisper.

She nodded, her eyes not leaving his. “I only found it four days ago when I was packing.” She paused, as though weighing whether or not to say more, then sighed. “He kept it from me, Franco. Told me it was nothing, just some silly thing from the past. But it wasn’t nothing. It was you. It was everything you were trying to say. And I didn’t even know until hours before your wedding.”

Franco could feel his chest tighten, the words he had written, the words that had been locked inside of him for so long, echoing in the space between them. He had no idea she’d never received it. No idea she had been living in that oblivion, thinking that nothing had changed when, in reality, everything had been laid out for her years ago.

Franco closed his eyes, the weight of her words settling over him. His entire life had been built around the lies he’d told himself, and in the end, he had only hurt the one person who had always been there for him.

When he opened his eyes again, he was staring at the sky, the stars so far away. “I never stopped loving you,” he said quietly, the confession falling from his lips before he could stop it. “I never stopped thinking about you, even when I thought I should. Even when I tried to move on, I always... always thought about you. About Monza.”

Her voice was soft but steady, a quiet confession in the night air. “I shouldn’t have come to that wedding,” she said, her words hanging in the space between them like a breath held too long.

Franco blinked, his heart stuttering slightly in his chest as he turned to look at her. “Why?”

She sighed, her eyes focused on the distant horizon, her expression unreadable in the soft glow of the moon. “Because I thought I was over you, Franco. I really did. I thought that seeing you get married to someone else, someone who wasn’t me, would help me move on. But when I watched you declare your love for me in front of everyone... it hit me all at once. I felt like I was coasting through a lie with Angelo for two years.”

Franco’s chest tightened at the mention of Angelo again, but he didn’t interrupt. He knew this was something that had been simmering beneath the surface for a long time, something they had never really spoken about. She took a slow breath, her fingers playing with the hem of her shirt as she spoke again.

“I couldn’t give him all of me,” she continued, her voice wavering for the first time, just the slightest crack in her calm demeanour. “When you still had half my heart.”

Franco felt a lump form in his throat at her words. She still loved him. Despite everything, despite the time apart, despite the man she had been with, a part of her had never truly moved on.

He didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t find the right words to express the swirl of emotions inside him. The guilt, the confusion, the longing. All he could do was listen, his heart aching with each word she spoke.

“Amor…” His voice faltered, and he cleared his throat, trying to find his grounding. “She cheated on me. My wife.” He added as though she needed clarification.

Her head jerked up, her eyes wide with surprise, but she said nothing. She waited for him to continue, her breath catching in her throat.

Franco stared out at the stars, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I didn’t feel much at first. I think I expected it. In some way, I always did. I’d been living in a marriage where I wasn’t really present for a long time.” He paused, his eyes distant as he recalled the feeling of his world unravelling. “But... when I found out, I couldn’t feel anything. It was like I had already shut myself off from it all.”

She studied him, her gaze soft but piercing. “Really? You didn’t feel... anything?”

Franco’s heart twisted, “I felt guilty,” he admitted, his voice low. "I didn’t feel hurt or anger. I just felt... guilty."

She frowned, the confusion and concern evident in her eyes. “Guilty? Why? You didn’t cheat. You weren’t the one betraying her.”

Franco chuckled bitterly, a hollow sound that felt foreign to him. “No, I didn’t cheat. But I’ve been mentally cheating on her for years now.” His voice cracked slightly, the admission slipping out before he could stop it. “With you. I’ve been thinking about you. Wanting you. Wondering... what could have been.”

Her breath caught in her throat, and she stared at him for a long moment, the weight of his confession hanging between them like an invisible force. The air was thick, heavy with the things they hadn’t said, the things they had both buried for too long.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The only sound was the distant rustle of the trees, the wind whispering through the leaves. Then, she shifted slightly, her fingers brushing against his, tentative, like she wasn’t sure if it was okay to reach out. But Franco didn’t pull away. He let her fingers weave through his, and for a moment, they were back to the way they used to be—close, without words, just a connection that had never truly faded.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice breaking the silence again. “I didn’t mean to make things more complicated for you. I never wanted you to feel guilty.”

Franco shook his head, his fingers tightening around hers. “You didn’t. It’s my fault. I should’ve been honest with myself. With you. With everyone.”

Her hand found his, her grip soft but reassuring. “We can’t undo the past, Franco. But maybe... maybe we can stop running from it.” She looked up at him, her eyes searching his face for something—maybe a sign that they were on the same page, that this wasn’t just a momentary lapse, but the beginning of something else.

Franco’s heart skipped a beat. The ache inside him—this pull, this longing—felt more real now than it ever had before. But he couldn’t let himself get lost in it. Not yet. Not before he figured out what came next.

“Maybe,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “Maybe we can.”

But for now, they stayed there, hand in hand, watching the stars as the night stretched on—together, but not quite ready to bridge the distance between them. The future was uncertain, but in that moment, with her close to him again, it felt like the possibility of a new beginning was still there.

And maybe that was enough.

She shifted slightly, pulling her knees closer to her chest as she stared up at the night sky, the stars scattered above them like little pieces of a puzzle they couldn’t quite put together. Her voice broke the quiet again, this time more introspective, tinged with a kind of sadness that Franco couldn’t shake. “Why are we like this?” she asked softly, the question hanging in the air between them. “Why can’t we ever get it right? Why does it feel like we keep missing each other?”

Franco felt a lump form in his throat as he turned his head to look at her. He had no answer. No easy explanation for the years of missed opportunities, the broken promises, the things left unsaid. All he could do was let the silence stretch for a moment before he spoke, his voice thick with regret.

“I don’t deserve you,” he said, his words barely audible, but full of the weight of everything he had kept buried for so long.

Her hand tightened around his, her fingers warm and steady against his skin. She didn’t look at him immediately. She just stared at the stars, letting the night take them both in. But when she did speak, her voice was clear, almost a little too sharp, as if she were trying to distance herself from the ache inside.

“I know,” she said, her words simple, yet filled with the unspoken truth between them.

Franco exhaled slowly, his chest tight with the unrelenting guilt that seemed to follow him wherever he went. “I really don’t,” he added, his tone heavier this time, the words more raw, like they were scraping against his very soul.

She turned her head slightly, her eyes soft but steady as she met his gaze. “But you’ll always have me anyway,” she said, her voice gentle, almost a whisper, but strong in its promise. “All of me. Even if you think you don’t deserve it, even if you feel like you’ve lost me, I’m still here. I always will be.”

Franco closed his eyes, his heart pounding in his chest. He wanted to believe her. He wanted to reach out and pull her into him, to hold on to the promise she was offering, but he knew that he had to fix everything first. He had to prove to himself, to her, that he was worthy.

After a long moment, his mind shifted, a question bubbling up to the surface, something that had been nagging at him for a while now. “What happened to Angelo?” he asked, his voice quiet, but urgent with curiosity.

Her gaze flickered away, her expression becoming unreadable for a brief second. She didn’t speak at first, but then, she sighed, her voice small as she turned her head back toward the night sky.

“He proposed,” she said softly, her words hitting Franco like a punch to the gut. “He got down on one knee, right there in the middle of a restaurant, and asked me to marry him.”

Franco’s heart sank. He had imagined the two of them together, but hearing her speak those words, hearing the finality in her tone, made something inside him shift. His breath caught in his throat.

“And you didn’t say yes,” he whispered, the realisation washing over him slowly, painfully.

She shook her head, her fingers grazing the edge of her sleeve as she gathered her thoughts. “I couldn’t bring myself to say yes,” she murmured, her voice distant, like the memory still held weight over her. “I couldn’t lie to him, and I couldn’t lie to myself anymore. Not after everything. I just... I couldn’t. And when I looked at him, I knew something wasn’t right. I knew that the whole time, I had been lying to both of us, pretending that he was enough when I wasn’t even sure of myself.”

Franco felt his chest tighten, his heart aching with understanding. “I’m sorry,” he said, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. He wasn’t sure if he was apologising for Angelo, for her, or for himself, but it felt like the right thing to say. “I’m sorry for everything.”

She didn’t respond right away. She just sat there beside him, her head back on his shoulder, her fingers still twined with his. The night stretched on, both of them lost in their own thoughts, but there was something in the air that felt different now. It wasn’t just the weight of their shared history or the unsaid words that hovered between them. There was something else.

Something that, for the first time, felt like the beginning of something new.

After a while, she spoke again, her voice barely audible. “I never wanted to hurt him. But I couldn’t pretend anymore. Not when you’re still here, not when you’ve always been here, Franco.”

Franco closed his eyes, his fingers tracing the curve of her hand. “I understand,” he whispered, though he wasn’t sure if he did. He wasn’t sure of anything right now except that he needed to make it right—whatever that looked like.

They stayed like that for what felt like hours, the quiet stretching between them, neither of them in a rush to break the stillness. The night air was cool against their skin, and the stars above seemed to twinkle with the same quiet understanding that hung in the air. For the first time in years, it felt like they were both exactly where they were meant to be—together.

But slowly, the rhythm of her breathing changed, softening, slowing. Franco felt it before he saw it, the gentle shift in the weight on his shoulder. He glanced down, his heart softening at the sight of her—her lashes fluttering closed, her face serene and peaceful in sleep. She was completely relaxed, as if the weight of everything had been lifted, even if just for a moment.

He didn’t move, didn’t want to disturb the quiet that had settled between them. But as minutes ticked by, he knew it was time to move her. Carefully, he slipped his arm beneath her, lifting her gently, cradling her close. Her head rested on his chest as he stood, her body instinctively curling against him. She felt weightless in his arms, and for a second, he couldn’t believe how natural it all felt.

As he carried her through the door to her room, the familiar smell of her childhood home wrapped around him—the scent of lavender and old wood, a place both foreign and intimately familiar. The room was just as he remembered, simple and cosy, with little traces of her scattered throughout. He looked down at the floor he used to sleep on when they were young The soft, pale light of the moon filtered through the window, casting everything in a gentle glow.

He placed her gently in the bed, tucking the covers around her small frame. For a moment, he just stood there, watching her, his chest heavy with emotion. Everything about this felt so right, so painfully wrong at the same time. He should have been here years ago. He should have never let things get so far. But now, he was here. And he wasn’t going anywhere.

He leaned down, brushing a strand of hair away from her face before pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. His lips lingered there for a second longer than he meant to, his heart aching with all the things he never said.

Just as he turned to leave, to head back to his own house, her voice stopped him.

“Don’t.”

Franco froze. His hand rested on the window frame , his heart stalling in his chest. He turned slowly, not sure if he had heard her correctly.

“What?” he asked, his voice quiet, almost unsure.

She looked up at him, her eyes still heavy with sleep, but there was something in her gaze—vulnerable, raw, but full of longing. “Don’t go,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I can’t watch you walk away again. Please don’t.”

For a moment, Franco stood there, his chest tight as he processed her words. Don’t go. It was all he needed to hear. She didn’t want him to leave. After everything that had happened, after all the distance between them, she still wanted him here.

He walked back toward the bed, his movements slow and deliberate. He didn’t need to say anything; the weight of the moment, the look in her eyes, said it all. He carefully slid under the covers, settling beside her, the warmth of her body so familiar yet so new.

Without a word, she shifted, curling into him, her head finding its place on his chest, her hand resting gently against his side. Franco wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close, and for the first time in a long time, he felt at peace. It wasn’t a perfect moment, but it was real. And it was theirs.

They stayed there, the rhythm of their breathing slowly syncing, the quiet of the night wrapping around them. No more words were needed. No more distance. Just the two of them, together, holding on to each other like they were afraid to let go.

And as they drifted off to sleep, tangled together beneath the covers, Franco realised that this moment—this feeling of being home—was everything he had been searching for.

Home.

Her.

It was all synonymous.

She was his home.

the end.

taglist: @sp1rl @yennasaurusrex @ellen3101 @firefirevampire @directioner5life @littlegrapejuice @obxstiles @scopeiguess @newlifeforus @justsisse @zestytimbit @taygrls @charlosvibesonly @sparkleofpizza

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f1boistrash · 8 months ago

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i have a name | l.s

a/n: so this is an idea i had after the miami gp and its been stuck in my head so im finally writing it. there is some slight jos slander and reader is max's sister

summary: y/n verstappen drives for f1 academy. they find comfort in a certain american when the media gets too much

Your whole life you've always been Max's sister. You didn't hate your brother for it because it wasn't his fault. You hated the world for being so small minded. You hated your dad for not caring. His words stuck in your head like a broken record. 'You're overreacting Y/N. It's not a big deal. You need to grow up.'

But it was a big deal because why couldn't they be bothered to learn your name. Your accomplishments throughout your career always amounted to 'Max's sister' it was never 'Y/N Verstappen'. You were sure if they could your trophies would say that too.

Going into the F1 Academy you thought it'd be different. You were excited when you got the call. The first person you told was Max and he was even more excited than you, if that was even possible. You were at the forefront of the series, watching young girls across the world become interested in the sport you loved. Something you wished you had growing up.

The driving was great. The team was great. Everything was great except the media. Its the one thing you dreaded stepping into the spotlight more. You tried to develop a thick skin like your brother but it was difficult when you constantly got picked at.

"So, Y/N, great day today. You qualified third. How was it?" The interviewer asked.

"Yeah it was great. Obviously we'd prefer P1 but we're still happy with the result and looking forward to pushing it even more tomorrow." You replied, grinning at your result. It might not be front of the grid but you were still proud.

"Your brother Max had a phenomenal season last year. Can we expect the same this year?" And there it was. Your first interview of the weekend and it only took one question before they asked you about your brother. Normally you didn't mind talking about Max's accomplishments. You were so unbelievably proud of him. It's when they start talking about him when they should be asking you about your race and your season that you get annoyed.

You plastered on your fake smile, hoping no one saw the disappointment flash across your face. "It's hard to say what this year will bring but what I do know is that Max will give it his everything. Whatever happens though I'm still proud of him."

Before anymore questions about Max could be asked your manager made a sign that time was up. You thanked the interviewer and left the media pen. She gave you a run down of tomorrows schedule as you were now finished for the day. Your manager didn't need to ask if you were okay because she knew you weren't. Working with you for a few years meant she had learnt all your tells.

You thanked her for today before parting ways, leaving you alone. The night air was brisk but welcoming. You shut your eyes and sighed enjoying the silence. You were supposed to be meeting Max tonight yet you couldn't bring yourself to move. Not wanting to face him just yet.

It was late and you weren't expecting many people left at the grid. Especially the F1 drivers which was why you jumped when a voice broke the silence. "Y/N right?" Logan said, your stomach fluttered when you looked at him. You have never really spoken to Logan before, only seeing him in passing but you always thought he was cute. He also called you by your name and not 'Max's sister' which was a welcomed surprise, used to his friends calling you that. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you."

"It's fine, just wasn't expecting anyone to be left at the track." You told him. You took in his appearance under the setting sun. He was in his Williams uniform, his hair slightly tousled from wearing his hat all day.

"Yeah, I was just heading out. Had to do a few tweaks before tomorrow. What are you doing here late?" He asked.

"Media." You grimaced. Logan laughed, understanding your reaction.

"That bad huh?"

"Yep." You nodded. "Talked about Max the whole time."

The two of slowly started walking towards the car you have rented this weekend. It was one of the few left in the parking lot. "Seriously? That's so shit." Logan said, shaking his head. It wasn't out of pity though, more like anger.

"You get used to it." You shrugged.

"You shouldn't have to though." He told you, pulling you both to a stop. His eyes, looking at you intensely making you nervous. "You were incredible out there today and I'll definitely be watching tomorrow as you get your first podium of the season."

"Wait, you watched qualifying?" You asked, surprised.

"Don't tell my trainer though." Logan grinned, winking at you making you laugh. It was a sound he could get used to.

"Well thank you Logan. It means a lot." You thanked him, coming to a stop when you reached the drivers seat door.

"You have a name, Y/N. Your not just Max Verstappen's sister and I hope you know that." He said, earnestly.

You don't know what came over you but you found yourself leaning up, pressing a kiss on Logan's cheek. "Thank you."

-x-

"You're late." Was all Max said as you walked through your hotel room door. You kicked off your shoes, walking further into the room seeing your brother lying on your freshly made bed scrolling on his phone.

"Don't you have a sim race or something?" You asked, shoving his feet off your bed trying to change the subject because what else can you say? The reason you were late was the slight breakdown you had about the interview and then you bumped into Logan. You couldn't exactly tell Max that.

He playfully stuck his middle finger up at you, knowing you were making fun of him. "How was your day anyway? Excited for tomorrow?"

"Yeah it was good." You lied. You liked that Max was oblivious sometimes because it meant you didn't have to talk about what people said about you. However, you also hated his obliviousness because sometimes you wanted your brother to comfort you. "Hopefully people won't get sick of the Dutch national anthem." You grinned at Max who laughed loudly.

You asked Max about his day and he told you about how confident he was with this years car, excited to see what he can get out of it. He carried on talking as you got out of your team uniform and into some comfy clothes when he quietened down.

"When were you going to tell me?" Max asked when you exited the bathroom. "About what the interviewer said?"

"It's fine Max." You said, avoiding his gaze on you by putting your clothes away. You were afraid if you looked at him the dam would break.

"It's not fine, Y/N." He huffed, his voice raising out of anger. It wasn't aimed at you though, Max would never raise his voice at you. "It was so unprofessional. Not to mention the commentators today couldn't even be bothered to learn your name. I'm going to do something about it."

Max's reaction reminded you of Logan's. You didn't think anyone would care this much. Especially someone who you never really had a conversation with before. You knew it was pointless to ask Max to leave it alone so you didn't bother. "Just please don't do anything stupid."

"When have I ever done that?" Max asked and you laughed. You would run out of fingers if you counted all the times Max did something stupid.

It was getting late and you and Max said your goodbyes, leaving you alone once again with your thoughts. Instead of the video on repeat in your head it was Logan's words. You reached over for your phone and unlocked it, going straight to instagram to find Logan's profile. You hit follow before going to his dms.

Y/N:

Thank you again for tonight.

His response was quick making your stomach flutter.

Logan:

You don't need to keep thanking me Y/N

Y/N:

I know

I enjoyed talking to you tonight

So thank you for your company 😊

Logan:

I enjoyed talking to you too 😊

I hope we can do it again some time

You were sure you were grinning like an idiot but you didn't care. You had fallen for the American and hard.

Y/N:

I would love to ☺️

Good luck for tomorrow Logan 💙

Logan:

Good luck Y/N 😊

#logan sargeant imagine #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant #f1 imagine #f1

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luckykiwiii101 · 1 month ago

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😭😭😭 I ENTERED THE VOID STATE AND IT'S LITERALLY CHANGED MY WHOLE VOCAL CORDS!!! Like, WHOA. 😱 You guys don't even understand. Before all of this, I was a mess. Lemme tell you the full tea.

So like, I used to cry at night, scrolling through Tumblr, seeing everyone else manifesting their dream lives while I was stuck in the same old cycle. 😩 You KNOW the feeling! I even DELETED my Tumblr at one point because I was SO sick of seeing everyone else actually living their dreams, but then I would redownload it like the next day because I couldn't resist!! And then...the whole studying-for-exams thing? LOL don't even get me started. Like, I'd be like "I'll just enter the void state before my exams and manifest straight A's or whatever" (spoiler alert: I didn't.) I'm never really failed any subjects. At least not badly😬

I was starting to get frustrated, right? So then, one day, I was like OKAY, FINE. TIME TO ACTUALLY DO SOMETHING. And that's when I started SATS (State Akin To Sleep). It sounded crazy at first, but honestly, I was down to try anything! (Even while coping with my MADD. Yes I'm one of them. No I'm never getting rid of it.) So I started visualizing my dream life, and LET ME TELL YOU, I GOT SO DETAILED. I was in Velaris with Rhysand (I'm an ACOTAR fan), feeling his WINGS!!! I was literally touching them and just imagining how amazing it would feel to be surrounded by magic and beauty. And I wasn't even thinking about entering the void or anything. I was just feeling the vibezzz. Like, I know that it felt real, and that's what mattered.

Fast forward to a month and 3 weeks of doing SATS (Yes, I skipped some days, but WHO CARES? 😤). And guess what happened? I woke up today, and BOOM! I was in the void! Like, I didn’t even need to know how it happened, it just DID. I just said "Anything i say comes true exactly the way I want it." I said it over and over and over. Until I decided it was enough. Then I thought of leaving, and I was back in my room. Thank goodness I didn't think of leaving when I first entered, because this was literally like a lifetime opportunity I couldn't screw it up.

I actually had to safeguard myself, by saying "I am not impulsive". And the urge to say nonsense just disappeared ✨ That was the first thing I said when I woke up. So I wouldn't say any crazy shit. And so I was sitting there, ready to just start manifesting everything I ever wanted. I even started writing my script. maybe that was just an adrenaline rush.

But here’s the thing...GUYS, NOW THAT I’M HERE....in my room with this "ability"...I’m actually kinda missing my old self. Not the sad, desperate me, but the me who was SUPER EXCITED about just wandering around Velaris at night and dreaming of all this happening. Like, I actually miss that excitement. Looking through Pinterest and seeing the interior of a mansion, and be like "I'll be there soon", seeing pics of tasty food on instagram and saying "I'll eat that soon" I know it sounds crazy, but when you finally get everything you thought you wanted, it’s like...IDK...a little too perfect? 😬

Like, I know this sounds wild— and weird, but it’s TRUE. It's true for me right now. I'm gonna be blunt. The success story is not as exciting when you’re like actually living it, you know? Or maybe it's just me. Like, I’m just over here typing this at 4 AM, feeling kinda melancholic. And kinda (scared). Yes, I wanna enjoy my desires, but... I don't know. I don't want to get too curious and stray from Velaris trying to find out the secret behind ALL of this. For goodness sake, this is crazy!!! My voice is a genie!. It's already bugging me now. I know, I KNOW, this is probably not what you expected from a success story, but I’m being REAL.

I’ve written like 3 pages of my script so far, and I’m just gonna finish it tomorrow. No rush. Because honestly? Rhysand’s not going anywhere. 😉

And YOU can do this too. I know some of you might feel like “Oh, it’s impossible, I keep failing!” but like, just take a second and realize YOU'RE ALREADY GETTING CLOSER THAN YOU THINK. I was stuck too, and look where I am now. Don't look at the part where— I'm kinda ungrateful. But the part where I'm finally gonna meet Rhysand. YOU’RE SO CLOSE. It’s all coming together, trust me! 💖✨

But yeah, it’s 4 AM, I’m gonna go back to bed now, lol. Don’t let the void stress you out, okay? Take it easy. You’ve got this. ✨✌🏼

Also, love you kiwiii💖💖💖💖

SUCCESS STORY

First of all, I’m so happy for you and proud of you. You really put your foot down and gave yourself what you wanted.

I can understand what you mean when you say the success story isn’t exciting when you’re actually living it. But when it’s right in-front of you, it doesn’t feel like this out of reach thing you’ve put on a pedestal anymore. It’s just yours. And it feels normal.

But for some people, I think a big part of that came from the dopamine rush people would feel when they’d tell themselves that they’ll have it one day. And when they have it in the 3D, they just feel peaceful with it because there’s nothing to “chase” anymore.

I agree with most of what you said apart from “you’re so close”. With the law of assumption there is no process. You ARE the void. Anyway enjoy having your desires. I’m really happy for you!!😭 Love you too beautiful ♥️

#void state #void #law of assumption #loa tumblr #loassumption #loa blog #loablr #manifestation #loa #the void state #loa manifestation #void state success stories #void success story #loa success story #void success stories #void state success story

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camellia-thea · 2 years ago

Text

thoughts hours

do i know what thoughts?

nope

just thoughts

#vent #been having a Time today #i'm really burnt out i think #had to pull out an emotional support soft toy to cook dinner because i couldn't take the idea of eating something i hadn't made #and i didn't know if i could cook on my own #i'm so tired. and very numb #oscillating wildly between needing lots of sensory input and needing absolute nothingness #watched some of a film to try to chill out (mildly successful)#listened to my current emotional support album. on repeat.#(it's very good but not something id play for other people tbh)#just. writing words while i finish my tea and then i'll go to bed.#i hope tomorrow is better -- going to play bloodborne with my partner which will be good. i hope i feel better socially too #been in the stage where it's a 'one person can be in my company at a time and they need to be quiet while they are' thing which :/#ideally once i feel a bit better i'll tidy my room wash my sheets and then get ready for next semester #might beg some stationary off my mum so i have a notebook for each paper. she gave me the ones i have currently and i really like them

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quiet-onset · 11 months ago

Text

seeking refuge

pairing: carmen berzatto x reader

wc: 1.5k

summary: carmy is having a day, and you want him to get lost in you.

warnings: 18+ minors do not interact!!!, unprotected sex, overstimulation (character and reader)

a/n: is this realistic? probably not. but that's why it's fanfiction! i truly do not remember writing most of this, but i was looking through my wips to find something work on and came across this already finished fic from last year lol. enjoy!

He had the look in his eye. That look had him curling in on himself, shoulders slumped as his mind ran wild. Every once in a while, he’d get lost in his own thoughts, a complete mashup of all the anxiety-inducing shit he’d ever encountered. Money, renovations, Michael, don’t miss NA meeting, walk-in door handle, Ma, menu, run menu ideas by Sydney, Sugar, and oh shit, Sugar’s baby, right, I’m an uncle—

“Carm?”

Like some sort of psuedo-siren, your voice called him back to stable ground, away from troubled waters. Still, he was merely wading when his eyes focused on you. His lips pulled up in an anxious smile, the best he could give you at the moment. “Hey, sorry, hey. I’m here.” He said, nodding his head. Then, his brow furrowed, and he shook away the confusion. “Wait, what are you doin’ here?”

“Richie called, said you might need the rest of the day off.”

Carm rolled his eyes and stood from the office chair, stepping past you to yell at Richie from the doorway. “Cousin!”

“Uh-uh, you are not fuckin’ up my flow today, cousin. I’m in the zone. Take that anxiety bullshit elsewhere, heard?” Richie dismissed him before he could make his defense.

“Hey, fuck you.”

“Yeah, yeah, fuck you, too. See ya tomorrow.” Richie replied. “I need hands, chefs!”

You chuckled behind Carm, wrapping your arms around his waist. You pressed your cheek against his back and immediately felt some of the tension there roll away. “That training did a number on him.” You commented.

“Too smart for his own good now.” Carmen added.

You leaned up to press a soft kiss against his ear. “Come home, bear.”

It was only a matter of time after that. He’d explained the issue on the way home, or at least tried to. “I dunno, there’s just too many thoughts and not enough time or space. Feel like my brain’s gonna fuckin’ explode, just get lost in my goddamn mind.”

He almost pulled over and dragged you into the backseat at your reply. “Get lost in me instead.”

And he did. He managed to keep himself contained long enough to get home, but once there, he wasted no time. A mere fifteen minutes later, and he had you on your back, legs spread about his waist as his thick, hard cock stretched you open. You held on for dear life as your pussy clenched around him, wet and sticky with your arousal.

“Fuck, you feel good, baby. ‘S exactly what I needed.” He panted. “So fuckin’ wet.”

You could barely form the words to respond, hips canting up with each thrust, chasing the pleasure. Not that it mattered to Carmen, he was content with the sweet moans and whimpers that fell without pause from your lips. He adored the sounds you made and strove to pull them out of you as he pounded you into the mattress. He stopped for a brief moment when he felt your walls tighten, groaning deep in his chest. One hand gripped at the back of your thigh and pushed, spreading you wider. The other slid forward until his elbow was pressed against the mattress next to your head, and he buried his face in your neck.

“Gonna make me come ‘f you keep squeezin’ like that, baby.” His lips brushed against your ear as he spoke, his breath hot and wet against your skin.

“Can’t he-help it.” You whined prettily. “Feels good. Please don’t stop, gonna come.”

“Yeah? Gonna come on this dick?” His hand reached down to toy with your clit, eyes rolling to the back of his head when you cried out his name.

All you could do is nod, your moans getting louder as your orgasm approached. And then, pleasure so good, tears pricked at your eyes. Your back arched, your breasts pressed into his chest, you moaned his name. That white-hot bliss pulsed in every part of you, almost like it was being torn from you. Your cunt clamped around him, and you’re sure if you looked down, a ring of your arousal would coat the base of his cock.

Like all he needed was your pleasure, his finish hit him like a truck seconds later. An unending string of fuck, fuck, fuck as he pumped his come into you, the white, warm streams of him coating your walls. His balls pulsed hard as he gave you long, slow strokes, the head of his cock nearly kissing your cervix with one particularly deep thrust.

And even though his pace had slowed, his hips didn’t stop. The overstimulation was starting to set in, your stomach flipping deliciously at the continuous pleasure. Still, he was strangely quiet, so you wanted to make sure he was okay.

“C-Carmy,” You whimpered out. “You still with me, bear?”

You expected a pause, a wait, but the answer was immediate. “‘F course I am. Nowhere else I’d rather be. Goddamnit.”

“Carmen?”

“Gotta have you again.”

You didn’t have time to process his words before he was pulling out of you and flipping you over. He hastily grabbed a pillow and lifted your hips to slide it under. Even in the orgasmic-haze that fogged his brain, he wanted to make sure you were comfortable. Still-hard cock in hand, he stroked himself firmly as he kneeled behind you. His free hand gripped at the fullness of your ass, pulling lightly until he could see the mess he’d made of your pussy, a mixture of yours and his come dripping out of you. It might've drenched the pillowcase, but the thought hadn’t even passed Carmen’s mind. He just leaned over you until his nose was buried in your hair, pressing himself into your sweet cunt once more. You let out a loud moan of his name, your tight walls still fluttering post-orgasm.

“Didn’t want your legs to get sore.” He mumbled as he started fucking you again, slow and deep. “Shit, I need to keep goin'. Need to fill you up again.”

“‘S too good, oh my god.” You cried out. At this angle, the tip of his cock brushed against your g-spot with every thrust.

“Gonna let me keep goin’, right? Let me keep fuckin’ my cock into you, fillin’ your sweet little cunt with my come? Gonna let me get lost in you, pretty girl?”

On one hand, you weren’t sure where this Carmen came from. It wasn’t like he was silent during sex, but he never talked this much. Never this filthy. It was like his pleasure controlled him, the overstimulation working double-time to control his body and mind at once. With every word, his pace got faster, his thrusts deeper, inhibiting your ability to speak.

It wasn’t made better when Carmen wrapped his arm around your neck, his bicep pressing lightly against your throat. A ragged gasp passed through your lips as he gave an experimental squeeze, timed perfectly with a deep thrust of his cock. He pressed his cheek against yours as you nodded eagerly, hoping the response would suffice.

“That’s it, baby, that’s fuckin’ it. So good to me all the goddamn time.” He groaned, hips bouncing off your ass with every thrust. “Pullin’ me out my head, makin’ me feel good. Perfect girl for me. Perfect girl with a perfect fuckin’ cunt, shit.”

He kept going and going and going, only relishing in a short rest each time. A setting sun and four orgasms later — five, for him — he was still burying his overstimulated cock in your overstimulated pussy. You were on your side now, facing him with your leg thrown over his hip. Each slow thrust of his dick and every pulse of your puffy cunt was laced with pain, but the pleasure was still there, too, making it hard to think. But for Carm, his mind was clear, the only thing left a vision of your sweaty face contorted with mind-numbing pleasure-pain.

One hand pulled you closer by your ass, the other brushing your hair off your sweaty forehead. “So pretty like this, baby. Could do this all fuckin’ day.”

“Carm, ‘s too much.” You gasped, eyes wide as you looked up at him. “Feels too good.”

He wiped a tear from your cheek, feeling his balls throb hard, almost painfully, as he plunged his cock deeper into you. “I know, I know. Just need another one, need to keep going till I’m fuckin’ empty. You can do that, right? You can take it.”

And sure, the overstimulation may have been clouding your judgment. But one look at his blue eyes, glazed over and needy, and you wanted to keep going. You wanted to lay there and let him take what he needed until he was spent, till all the anxious thoughts he ever had faded from memory. Your pussy tightened at the thought as you wondered how long it would take before he fucked his mind completely empty.

And just like that, he was coming again. Your sticky walls coaxed it out of him, pulsing around him until his hips stuttered. With the number of loads he’d already pumped into you, you couldn’t even feel the new warmth of his come. You only knew it was there when his cock pushed back inside, and come dribbled out of you and down your thigh.

And not a moment later, you were on your back again, and he was fucking you headfirst into your sixth orgasm. You and Carmen had a long night ahead of you.

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmy x reader #carmen berzatto fanfiction #the bear x reader #the bear fanfiction #the bear fx fanfiction #carmy berzatto smut #carmen berzatto smut #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto fanfiction

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dreaisgrayte · 7 months ago

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"Just Friends" Full Fic | Kyojuro Rengoku x Reader

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, 18+, smut, oral (fem receiving), fingering, kissing, heavy making out, biting, licking, nails, rough, creampie, breeding kink (discovery, love that for them), and masturbation with a toy (not specified)

Word Count: 6.5k

A/N: crouched over like a little gremlin writing this in my bed for the last 3 days. I hope it delivers what was wanted. I only finished it today thanks to K-pop and the aggressive words of my best friend. Thank you Enhypen and K <3

The apartment was usually buzzing with activity, the hardwood scuffed from countless couches pushed around on its surface. While others might think it dingy, you felt it added to the unit's story – besides if it weren’t for the scuffs you wouldn’t have gotten a killer discount. You’d kiss them every day if it meant saving you money. Though, if you were caught kissing the ground your roommates would never let you live it down. They’d probably nickname you splinter lips or something embarrassing like that. Speaking of your roommates, they’d left you alone with nothing to do. How dare they have other lives that don’t involve you.

You sink further into the couch, a bored sigh whoshing out of you. Mitsuri had gone out drinking with her cooking class, and Uzui was…somewhere, you honestly didn’t know. Kyojuro had a late shift at the convenience store, but he’d be home soon. Friday nights had been the very opposite of most of your friends, never planning extravagant outings. You much preferred the safety of a good book that you could sob about in the comfort of your own home. It was a simple yet fulfilling life. Besides, would a club let you do all the things to be done in one’s home? Short answer, no.

A brilliant idea sparks forth. You were bored and no one was home. You could always… “Hey YN, sorry I thought I’d be home later.” A voice calls from the entryway. You groan and flop back on the couch. Well, there goes that idea, and it was a good one. “What’ve you been up to?” Kyojuro tosses his jacket over one of the kitchen island stools as he walks toward the fridge. He’s unbuttoning his work clothes, distractedly looking over the schedule for tomorrow as he does so. You don’t mean to gawk, but it’s not like you hadn’t seen a little too much of Kyojuro being as you lived with him.

The man had a body like those paintings of Jesus, sculpted and rock-hard. If you were a man, Kyojuro would have given you many boners. Friendly harassment of course. “I was just about to invite all my other horny friends over to have an orgy.” You mutter out, glancing away from his near-open shirt before he catches you practically fantasizing about licking the sweat off him. This fucker was too good looking and you were a simple man…with simple desires.

Kyojuro’s gaze flips to you and that damn easy grin he always wore appears. He slips out of his shirt, hanging it over his jacket. “Mmm, well don’t stop on my account.” He teases, pulling his long blonde hair out of its updo. A little warm trickle of something akin to sexual frustration strokes its smothering claws through your system.

What you would do to just spread open your legs and have Kyojuro eat you out this instant is borderline insane, but you would let anyone fucking touch you. It’d been too long since you’d been able to let the carnal desire take over. Kyojuro was one of your good friends, you highly doubt you’d be able to enjoy his…tongue…fuck. You swallow hard as your gaze flits endlessly around the room. Were you so horny that you would fuck your friend? Mmm, yeah probably. You smile through the pain of not having someone to cuddle with. “You’d like that wouldn’t you?”

Kyojuro chuckles, stretching out his biceps and rolling his neck. “Oh. Seeing you get fucked senseless? For sure.” He shakes his head with a laugh but you nearly drop to your knees and beg him to let you take a picture of him shirtless for later. Christ, why does he have the body of a Greek God? His words send tendrils of hot want – need – through you. Making your pussy throb with hunger.

Conversations with Kyojuro were always teetering on what if. You were so far in the bit that you didn’t know what was the truth anymore. He could tell you that he wanted to fuck you until easter and your response would be ‘Jesus isn’t gonna be the only thing that’s rising again’. Then you’d both laugh and continue with your day. Unless he was serious and you just agreed to be his fleshlight for 3 months…which doesn’t sound like such a bad idea… No! “I don’t know Kyo, you might be too tempted to join in.” You jab back, leaning forward on the couch, the loose tank dipping ever so slightly to tease a bit of your red bralette. You don’t miss the way his eyes dip to follow the swell of your tits. A satisfied smirk replaces your teasing grin.

He spaces out for a beat before meeting your gaze. “Yeah…I,” His brows furrow, and adam’s apple bobs, before he turns around. “I have an early morning.” He quickly scoops up his clothes and salutes you as he walks toward the hallway of bedrooms. Your eyes narrow as you watch him. Nah, that was just what friends play around and say. You chuckle to yourself and head toward your room as well. No point in being awake if you can’t harass your friends. You pass by Mitsuri’s door, then you’re in front of home sweet home. Down just one door is Kyojuro’s room. Uzui shared a wall with the bathroom and closet, while you got two of the loudest people. Mitsuri with her music and Kyojuro… well sometimes you could hear him gaming, but there were moments when soft music was playing that you thought you could hear a little more. If you heard anyone fucking moan right now you were going to go mental. Full-blown chainsaw psycho killer, no one would be safe.

Maybe you should’ve gone out with Uzui when he offered earlier this morning. He obviously could tell you were more pent up than a mother shopping for Christmas presents. Maybe a nice stranger would help this whole situation blow over. Then you wouldn’t be tempted to jump Kyojuro. Yeah, maybe you could message that one guy from your English class.

You take out your phone and send him a quick text asking if he wants to hang out tomorrow. Hopefully, the vibes you were picking up on were correct and you could finally go back to being a normal human being with normal thoughts. Your phone buzzes and the words yeah, I’m free to do whatever appears on your screen. Whatever? Oh, this was going to work out perfectly.

+ + +

“I’m so happy you could make it.” Your words fall out with some excitement when Giyuu, the hot brooding guy from your English class walks through the front door. He observes all that he can before you take him by the hand to lead him to your room. “I figure we can game a little in here and…” You trail off, trying to sound suggestive and not too desperate.

Giyuu raises his brows. “So you want to prolong us having sex?” He inquires, pulling you closer to him with the hand still holding his. Your brows shoot up. Damn, were you that transparent, or did he just assume that?

Either way, your plan was working out beautifully. “That depends,” You drag your finger down his chest. He was built, but nearly as much as Kyojuro. Was he home? You couldn’t remember. You hadn’t seen him all morning. “How good are you with your mouth?” Giyuu smirks and turns you around to where your back is pressed into the door.

He licks up your jugular and plants small, sloppy kisses along your jawline. It was… something. “Does that answer your question?” He looks too pleased with himself so you don’t say anything. “You look so horny right now.” His hand is groping your breast and his other wraps around your waist. Did you? If there was a mirror across from you right now would you have lustful eyes? Glazed over from even just the thought of what was about to happen? No, you don’t think so.

You really wanted to have some fun, but at what cost? Giyuu was hot, and kind, but just inexperienced. You could always teach him…but you weren’t ready to invest so much energy into a once-and-a-while fuck. You wanted to be fucked so hard that thinking would be impossible.

You’re just about to say something to him when he’s back kissing you and moaning excessively. God, this guy needed some girl to teach him some things, but that girl was not you. “YN? I’m home, I brought hamburgers from that place you like so much!” Kyojuro calls from out in the kitchen. You squeak, but Giyuu either doesn’t hear Kyojuro (how?) or doesn’t care. Giyuu has managed to fumble your skirt up and play with the hem of your panties. Your pleas are muffled by his mouth still pressed against yours. His fingers slip inside your pussy and from the dull throb, you can tell there’s no moisture down there. Drier than unmoisturized lips in winter. He grunts and tries to move them around and a grumbled moan escapes your mouth as he – amazingly – swipes at your clit. “YN? Where are you?” Kyojuro asks and you can hear him walking down the hallway.

This had to be the most dreadful event of your life. Being pressed into your bedroom door by a moaning telephone pole and one of your close friends about to hear the most ungodly whining. Giyuu releases your lips, finally, and sinks to his knees. He puts a finger to his lips and dips his head under your skirt. Your eyes nearly bulge out of your head. You grab onto Giyuu and try to pull him up. “No! Giyuu, absolutely not! My roommate is right there.” You hiss, shoving him to the side. You move away from him as quickly as you can. “I’m sorry but we cannot do this right now.” You grumble, pinching the bridge of your nose.

Giyuu looks dumbfounded sitting on the ground where you had pushed him down. He blinks a couple of times before narrowing his eyes. “But you wanted me to fuck you.” It’s like he’s trying to put a God damn puzzle together.

You groan and point to your door. “Yeah, when my fucking roommate wasn’t about to hear you moaning like a green pornstar!” You fume, probably looking more exacerbated than you would’ve if you let him go through with it. Giyuu frowns.

“Fine, then I’m leaving.” He states, gathering himself into a standing position. You nod in agreement, gesturing to the door.

“Good, I’ll see you in class.” You sigh, flopping down on your bed. Giyuu gives you the oddest look but doesn’t say anything as he stomps out of your room. You hear Kyojuro mutter something to him and then the front door slam. A few seconds later Kyojuro is leaning against the frame of your door with his arms crossed over his chest.

The silence is thick and for a moment you think he must want to confront you about Giyuu. There wasn’t necessarily a reason for him to confront you…so why did you feel so guilty? Shame was pumping through your stomach. “Want to watch a movie?” Kyojuro offers. You glance up to meet his blank stare.

His gaze falls to assess the state of your clothing. Your skirt was still askew, your hair a mess, and your lips were swollen. He swallows slowly, trying to push down the thought of some guy having his hands on you. Kyojuro wasn’t jealous, no, he was simply… protective. Yes, that’s it. He was worried about you. Though… he couldn’t quite stop thinking about the small moan you let out. How someone like Giyuu managed to make a woman like you moan…he can’t fathom. Kyojuro would be able to have you only able to moan and shake in pleasure. He was so much better than that guy. “Sure. Just let me change into something more comfortable?” With a nod, Kyojuro slips back into the hall. A shakey breath leaves your body and you squeeze your eyes shut. You’d let your desire lead you too far. A distraction with someone you were comfortable with was sure to fix this heavy feeling.

It doesn’t take long for you to pull on a pair of sweats and a soft tank top. You grab hold of your current book, heading toward the living room. Kyojuro blinks up to stare at you as you curl your legs under yourself on the couch. “You brought a book?” He gestures to the book with his head.

A small smile lifts your lips. “Yeah, I thought I could catch up on some chapters after the movie.” You reply softly. Kyojuro chuckles and flips through some of his recommended movies.

“If you’d rather read I don’t mind.” He mumbles while reading over a description. You shake your head. If anything you wanted to spend as much time with Kyojuro as you could. He had that warm presence that made you feel like less of a shit person.

You set the book on the side table and turn back with a bigger smile for Kyojuro. “No, I really need a distraction right now and you’re doing a perfect job.” Kyojuro’s gaze flicks to you, his mouth twitching.

“Distraction aye? Anything for the lady.” He smirks.

The movie Kyojuro ends up choosing was at first glance, very cheerful and cute, but as the universe seemed to enjoy putting you in awkward situations – practically a porn scene started to play. Your eyes darted to see what his reaction would be, but it seemed he had none. His eyes were fixed on the screen, almost with rapt attention.

What you didn’t see is that Kyojuro was white-knuckling the arm of the couch. He wouldn’t dare look at you for he feared the worst would happen. You already had a fucking weirdo try to pleasure you, what right would he have to make a move? Wait, did he want to make a move? What even was this? His initial goal was to get your mind off of your awful decision-making, but ever since you stepped out here with a book in your hand and baggy sweats on, he was done for. He wasn’t even sure how the movie got to this point, he was too preoccupied with observing you out of the corner of his eye. At times he wondered how you could be so breathtaking without even trying. He was so fucked.

Thankfully, the scene ended and so did the movie. You almost instantly go for your book to avoid saying anything about how ‘enjoyable’ the movie was, but you don’t have time to grab it because Kyojuro leans over you, a soft smile dusting his features. Whenever the corners of his mouth quirk up in a casual smile it makes your stomach squirm with an uncomfortable feeling. “What are you thinking about?” He quizzes, reaching for something on the table next to you. You didn’t know what, you’d already forgotten what your name was. The warmth from his body seeps into your skin, his hot breath cascading down your arm as he speaks. You clear your throat and try to look at anything but the man next to you.

It had been 4 nice years of friendship. It burst forth from an unfortunate crush on a mutual friend. Turns out that friend was too stupid to realize he was manipulating you and leading you on. Crazy how that works isn’t it? “How I’m going to have to fire the assassins that keep failing every morning.” You grumble out, pretending to be fascinated with the upholstery of the couch. Kyojuro hums in amusement, opening the book – which was apparently what he grabbed.

He sets the book in his lap, reading over the page you bookmarked. “They just need more training, I’ve gotten skilled at fighting them off.” He shoots you a deadly smirk and suddenly it becomes a lot harder to swallow. Your gaze lazily follows the curve of his bicep, noticing how thick they seem. Were they hard to the touch? You’d heard muscles were sometimes flabby though. It was difficult to suppress the urge to just reach out and feel his arm. “My God YN, you actually read this stuff?” Kyorjuro blurts, holding the page closer to his face as if that would help him believe he was reading it correctly.

He pinches the spine of the book to close it with a shocked expression. You can’t help the bubble of laughter that escapes from your lips. Then – with horror – you realize he hadn’t bookmarked the page. “Kyojuro! The bookmark!” You practically jump over his lap to reach the flimsy piece of notebook paper you called a bookmark that was on the other side of his leg. You huff out a sigh when you finally have it in your hands, yanking the book from his hands to frantically find the scene you were reading. When the words start to look familiar you stick the paper in between the pages and set the book down.

Leave it to the least observant person to almost make you lose your place. You’re about to move back to your spot when Kyojuro shifts underneath you. You turn to slowly look at his face, but you’re met with the side of his face. You note the tip of his ear is flushed red and his eyes are darting to look at anything but you – splayed out over his lap no less. “This is surprisingly comfortable.” You tease, rolling your hips forward a bit with a smirk. Something similar to a whimper comes from Kyojuro.

“YN…” His voice strains with unrelenting thoughts coursing through his mind. How your ass looked right there over his lap. How heavenly your body felt on him, he especially liked the way your soft stomach felt like a cushion upon his thighs. It was crazy, you were driving him crazy. Finally, you sat up, but that was almost worse because now your face was closer to his. He could see your rosy cheeks, lustful eyes, and God – your fucking tight red tank top. He wanted it on the floor this instant, it would look better there anyway. He was fighting the urge to reach up and swipe away the hair that had come undone from the loose way you had it up.

“Sorry.” You chuckle bashfully, fixing your necklace. He didn’t miss the way the pendant fell between your breasts. He wanted to follow the delicate gold chain until you were moaning his name.

“It’s no problem.” He mutters absentmindedly. He both wished he could melt into the couch and bend you over it to fuck you mindlessly.

The way his mouth moves has always had this effect on you, but you were just friends. He felt so good under you, too good. “I’m gonna,” You glance down at the book in your hands. “Um, go finish this.” Then without another word, you scurry off to your room. You press your back into the very same door Giyuu had earlier. Only this time your heart was racing and your breath was erratic. What was happening? Did you…like Kyojuro? You always thought your conversations with him were on the verge of playful and downright sexual. You had similar jokes with Uzui and Mitsuri, but somehow this felt…different. Oh God, you did like him. You wanted to do unholy things to that man and then spoil him rotten with little gifts and quality time.

Shit. Fuck! This was awful! Now you needed a distraction from the distraction. You spot your nightstand drawer and glance at the door behind you. Kyojuro was still in the living room, so he wouldn’t be able to hear you… distract yourself.

You take a couple of steps forward and then rush to your bed, tossing the book haphazardly on your desk. You position yourself in the corner with a few pillows nestled around you. You bite your lip as you reach over and rummage around in your drawer until your fingers graze the glorious purple silicon you were looking for. You shimmy out of your sweats and panties, tossing them to the floor. You hiss in annoyance when you realize just how very wet you already are. “Mmm, fuck.” You moan as the round toy slips into your folds. It felt heavenly, but something was missing. “Haaa, oh my God, nngh.” You gasp out, the coils in your core tightening as the image of Kyojuro between your legs appears behind your lids.

Kyojuro quietly listened on the other side of his wall, his mouth slightly ajar. He swallowed a lodge that had formed in his throat. He should put headphones on, or do something to stop listening to you, but he couldn’t. Your next moan cracks into a whimper and it takes all his might to not barge in there and throw whatever you were using to the side. He was so desperate to show you what real pleasure could be like. He imagines your eyes rolling in the back of your head as he rams his cock into your tight cunt. It would suck him in like it never wanted him to leave. You’d be fucked out by the time he was on his first round, then he’d cum inside of you. Fill you up and watch his cum trickle out of you. He’d make you his whore and have you begging for his cock every waking moment.

He grunts, glancing down at his growing erection. You had driven him mad and you’d pay for it, of that he would make sure. Your moans grow erratic and he swears he can hear the wet slick of your pussy through the paper-thin walls.

The pumping becomes sloppy as you writhe in pleasure. “Mmmh!” You bite down, trying to stifle the whining moans slipping out of your throat. “Feels s’good.” Your words come out slurred and after a bit of teasing the rope inside of you snaps and your eyes roll shut. Shit, what a mess you made. You groan into your pillow, annoyed that you had to clean up.

Kyojuro rolls his lips into his mouth as he peers down. His hand is covered in sticky cum and his cock is still stiff with desire. Yes…what a mess you’d made indeed.

+ + +

You had the best night’s sleep in forever, waking up only when the sun was up. The shorts you’d thrown on last night had ridden up into your ass so you get out of bed to pull them down. There was also the sweet smell of pancakes that led you out into the kitchen where Kyojuro stands flipping some. You weren’t sure why, but he looked incredible doing so. He smiles when he notices you. “Morning YN,” His gaze lingers on the way the strap of your tank falls down your shoulder. You’re about to make a flirty remark when you spot your other two roommates observing you both from the breakfast nook. They both wear knowing smirks and whisper to each other. You roll your eyes and walk toward them.

“Hey strangers, when did you guys get home?” You inquire, sitting down across from Mitsuri. She grins, playing with one of her braids. Uzui chuckles while leaning back in his chair.

“Kanroji met this one guy and-” He’s shut up by Mitsuri throwing a pillow at him with flushed cheeks.

“Shut up shut up shut up!” She squeals. “He,” She pouts and bashfully meets your gaze, her lime green eyes sparkling. “He was so cool.” She sighs dreamily, smitten already.

Uzui gives her a blank stare and then his gaze flicks to you. Kyojuro sets down a plate in front of you, then the stack of pancakes near the middle of the table. Uzui follows Kyojuro’s movements with narrowed eyes. “And what have you two been up to?” He quirks a brow as Kyo sits himself down next to you. You both look up, meet each other’s gaze, then look away.

You stuff your mouth with a bite of fluffy pancake. “Nothing much.” Kyojuro decides to respond. As the taste fills your tastebuds you can’t help the little moan that escapes your mouth. Kyojuro’s movements halt, his attention trained on you. The others didn’t hear, did they? With one glance to Mitsuri and Uzui he could tell they were in their own world. “YN?” Kyo leans over to whisper in your ear. You gulp down your next bite, your eyes shutting for a moment. “I need you to stop moaning over my cooking.” He hisses into your ear.

Your heart dips in your chest. Was your enjoyment of his food having that much of an impact on him? You could have a little fun with this. You take another bite, humming in pleasure. Kyojuro’s eyes darken into deep amber swirls. “You having fun shoving that into your mouth?” He asks in a husky voice. You clench on nothing. The things his words alone were doing to you. He watches as your tongue darts out to lick up some of the syrup on your lips. “You’re being a brat.” He states.

You raise your brows and giggle quietly. “Yeah, that’s kind of the point.” Kyojuro nods in understanding. Without mention his hand grabs onto your thigh. His fingers play with the plush skin, molding it to his massive hand. “What are you doing?” Your voice is strained but Kyo just smirks, trailing his fingers higher up your thigh – grazing the point where your stomach overlapped. Dangerously close to the apex of your thighs and you knew at that moment, he was punishing you for pushing him so far. Even if this wasn’t real, just a friendly game, you were enjoying every second of it.

“Guys!” Mitsuri suddenly exclaims. You expect Kyojuro to move his hand away quickly but his pinky delicately strokes your covered pussy. You swallow nervously. “We should totally have a game night.” She clasps her hands together and bounces excitedly. “We haven’t done one in such a long time,” She continues.

Uzui sets his fork down and stands up with vigor. “What a great idea! We shall conquer the night with…Mario Party.” His magenta eyes narrow and he places a hand on his heart dramatically. “I shall be the victor again.” He states triumphantly. Mitsuri watches him in amazement, probably thinking, 'Wow, I wish I could declare myself like that! Uzui is so cool!’. She was so easy to read.

Kyojuro on the other hand, was literally focused on his other hand. He was kneading the flesh of your thigh and it felt weirdly amazing. “Careful Uzui, Mitsuri has been practicing ever since last time.” He chuckles. Tonight was going to be… you bite on your lip as Kyo presses his thumb to your pussy… fun.

The day passed with you spending most of it hiding away in your room, finishing the book you said you would last night. Mitsuri and Uzui went out shopping for snacks and drinks while Kyojuro had some errands to run. You had to reread the same page over and over again, your head spinning with thoughts of this morning. Was this really happening? Kyojuro and you? Did he like you? Did you like him?

You groan and shut your book. They should be home soon, it was getting late and you were lonely. “Sweetie we’re home!” Uzui yells as you hear the front door swing open. You roll your eyes at the timing. Walking out to the kitchen you find Mitsuri and Uzui excitedly emptying their shopping bags. Jack Daniels, Titos, Tequila Rose, and Mike’s Hard Lemonade. There are some stray soda bottles and a random bag of pretzels.

You slowly meet their pleased expressions. “What are we going to eat?” You inquire, your brows furrowing. Mitsuri waves your concern away with a giggle.

“Don’t worry, we called Kyojuro to handle the food.” She exclaims. You hum in approval, noticing that Uzui has already made his way over to the Nintendo, preparing Mario Party for tonight. Mitsuri pours three glasses and sets them down on the coffee table before flopping down in the recliner.

You watch as Uzui and Mitsuri drink and play a few rounds. Then Mitsuri insists they should go to the convenience store and you wait for Kyojuro to show up with the food. Not even a few minutes after they leave the one you were waiting for walks through the door. He sees you alone and tilts his head. “Left alone again?” He questions, setting down a few bags on the counter.

You shake your head. “Nope, I have you now.” You reply, a hint of playfulness in your voice. His lips form into a slow smirk as he starts walking over to where you’re sitting on the couch. He squats down, letting his eyes lazily look over the comfortable clothes you have on.

“Mmm, indeed you do.” He mumbles. Your heart is thrumming uncontrollably in your chest. You’re almost afraid he might be able to hear it.

“You uh,” His eyes instantly meet yours when he hears your voice. It makes it harder to talk when he’s looking at you so intensely. You break eye contact, gaze falling to your lap.

“No, YN, if you’re going to do this, you’re going to look into my eyes.” Kyojuro’s hand is under your chin, commanding you to see him.

“Do you like me?” You blurt. That’s not exactly what you intended to say but the words came out anyway. Kyojuro chuckles, his usually bright eyes darkening as he peered at you.

He wets his lips, sliding the hand that was under your chin up your cheek. Your breath hitches and that only drives him forward more. Before you know it his mouth is hot next to your ear. “Why do you want to know?” He asks in a hushed tone. You feel hot, so very hot. “Mmm, don’t worry, you don’t have to say anything, I already know. Your body is practically begging for it.” He uses his hand on your face to expose your neck, every movement antagonizing slow. The tip of his nose drags down your jugular and he stops just above your collarbone. His lips move along the sensitive skin, sucking and taking in the splendor of being this close to you. “To answer your question,” He starts, biting down on the junction of your neck and shoulder. A breath moan escapes your throat. He hums in satisfaction, moving back to your neck with kisses and tantalizing licks. “No, I don’t like you.” Then, he’s next to your ear, breathing heavier than before. “I crave you. Desire you. I cannot think when our eyes meet. You make me dangerous YN. Every second I am not with you I’m a depraved man. Hungry. Starving.” Kyojuro’s face is in front of yours, his eyes burning into yours.

This time you don’t look away.

You grab his cheeks closing the distance between your lips. The kiss is gentle at first, surprise and exploration guiding both of you before Kyojuro positions himself in between your legs, pushing you into the back of the couch. His breath is labored as he moves his mouth along your skin, planting kisses everywhere he can reach. He’s desperate, groaning into your neck. “Bedroom. Now. Or I’m going to eat you out on this couch until our roommates get home.” He growls and without a second thought your legs are wrapped around Kyojuro’s waist. You’re not sure how he’s watching where he’s going and making out with you. All you know is that soon your back is pressed into the back of his door. This time it’s hot and you intend to use the door for stability because this man is surely going to make your knees weak.

Kyojuro’s fingers are digging deliciously into the back of your thighs and his tongue is licking the spot he bit you earlier. It was all a bit overwhelming, the sensations, the emotions rolling around in your stomach, and the downright arousal dripping from your cunt. “God you’re so perfect.” He grunts into your shoulder, running his teeth along the curve and shape of it.

Your hands are buried in his hair, pulling him back up to your lips with needy fervor. You can scarcely breathe, but when you catch your breath for a moment it’s his name you moan out. “Kyo,” Between kisses, bites, tastes of bliss, and the teasing roll of his hips into the apex of your thighs you would whisper his name. He was all that mattered. The anchor to Earth and the center of your very being. His response would always be a soft, ‘I’m here,’ ‘good girl,’ or ‘fuck,’.

“Are you sure?” He gently connects your foreheads. A pleased smile morphs your swollen lips. “I don’t want you to regret this…us.” He adds.

You peck his lips, then decide to kiss him for a beat longer. “Kyojuro, I think we’ve established over the last few days that we are not just friends. I want you, all of you.” You reply gently. It’s like something in him snaps even more because the next thing you know you both are on his mattress.

“You drive me fucking crazy.” He hisses, shifting himself between your legs. His warm fingers hook onto the hem of your shorts, pulling them down and tossing them to the side with abandonment. He stares down at your red panties, getting lost in the way they formed your pussy perfectly and your body. “Take your shirt off.” He suddenly demands.

You choke out a laugh at the outburst. “You take your shirt off.” You playfully snap. He cocks his head to the side and pulls the black tee he had on over his head with one swift motion. You gulp down your words and grab the hem of your own shirt with both hands, yanking it off with a lot less grace. You hadn’t been wearing a bra because of being home all day so when your tits meet the cold air Kyojuro smirks.

“Hmm, you listen so well when you’re put in your place.” He coos, rolling his lips around in his mouth. “Now, for your reward, I’m going to eat this perfect cunt. Feel free to let me listen to those pretty little moans of yours, or,” He grins, laying down on his stomach. “Wrap these fucking thighs so tight around my head that I can’t hear anything. Okay, princess?” The air is heady as you watch him pull your underwear off. He halts for a beat, but presses your legs open for him and slides one of his hands down to open up your folds. You hiss out a breath as he grazes his teeth along your thigh.

His fingers slide into your entrances without any trouble. “So wet for me already baby, you want this so bad.” Kyojuro chuckles from his position. A breathy moan leaves your throat.

He pumps two fingers inside of you, playing with your walls. “F-fuck, right there, nnngh.” He hooks his fingers then his mouth is sucking on your clit. You almost scream, the pleasure shooting thick bands through your body. Your muscles tighten and so do your legs around his head. He hums in pleasure, the vibration sending shockwaves through you. “S-so good, oh my God, so good.” You can’t think. Words are just spilling out at this point.

Your legs start to shake as his tongue plunges deeper into your pussy, swirling around your sensitive clit. “Ah angh,” Your walls clench and pulsate around his fingers. “I’m fuck, I’m close,” Kyojuro pushes on your leg so he can move his tongue away and you almost whimper at the absence of it.

He starts to quicken his fingering, watching with a pleased expression as you writhe and clench. “That’s it baby, cum on my fingers.” He coaxes and with one more hard hook of his fingers you fall apart, convulsing with whimpers and whines. As you cum Kyojuro moves his mouth back to your pussy, lapping up your arousal. “You’re so sweet, fuck.” He hisses.

Your heart is racing, breath coming out in pants, you can barely feel your legs. “Kyojuro,” You huff.

He shits onto his knees with a lopsided grin. “Yes?”

“I need you inside of me,” Kyojuro blinks at you, then with a knowing smile works himself out of his pants.

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll take good care of you.” He grunts, but you zero in on the very size of him. For a guy you’d known for 4 years, you would figure you’d be able to guesstimate how large his cock would be. Nope, he was so much larger than you expected. He lines himself up at your entrance and with a slow push, he’s stretching you out. You groan and latch onto his shoulders, digging your nails into his muscles. He shuts his eyes, a grunt rumbling from his chest. “Shit, you’re sucking me in. Look at you taking me so well.” He husks, rolling his hips into yours. It felt so good, the way you tightened around him whenever he moved like you didn’t want him to pull out.

Kyojuro starts to thrust, gentle at first but with time he picks up pace, ramming into you like he knew you liked. “You like that huh? Do you like me fucking you speechless? Ain’t got such a smart mouth on you now aye?” He spats, you can only whine in response. “Mmm, such a good girl for me. So perfect for my cock, fuck.” His movements become sloppy as he fucks into you. You gasp and tighten around him, another wave of pleasure crashing into you. That’s all it takes for Kyojuro to break, a cracking string of moans falling from his mouth as he cums inside of you. He collapses next to you, chest heaving.

“Do you think Mitsuri and Uzui came home during that?” You ask, voice hoarse from the previous activities. Kyojuro rolls his eyes and turns on his side to look at you.

You turn on your side too, feeling sweaty and sticky, but not caring much. You could feel his cum inside of you and honestly, it was a nice full feeling. You might’ve been a little too into the fact he came inside of you. Kyojuro wraps his arms around you and kisses your forehead. “I’m not sure, but I can go get you a towel if you want?” He replies, peering at you with a concerned expression. “I kind of made…a mess down there.” He mutters.

You giggle and shake your head. “Don’t friends clean up each other’s messes?” You joke. Kyojuro scoffs and rolls his eyes.

He smacks your ass and pulls you closer to him. “Yeah, but I kind of think we’re past the whole just friends thing.”

As you look into his eyes and feel the swell of happiness in your chest you realize he couldn’t be more right. You were never Just Friends.

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mysteryshoptls · 25 days ago

Text

SSR Lilia Vanrouge - Room Relaxation Vignette

"Happy Birthday"

[Courtyard]

[rustle, rustle]

Lilia: Heeey, Malleuuus～ Come out, come out, wherever you are～ Sebek's about to burst into tears 'cause he can't find you～

Jade: I was curious what you were up to what with your fervent rustling through the hedges… I see, you were searching for Malleus-san.

Lilia: Oh, Jade. We're supposed to be having an important meeting in the dorm right now, but he's nowhere to be found.

Jade: My, an important meeting? How fascinating. Is there some pressing issue?

Lilia: Nothing dire. Actually, the Pop Music Club decide to throw together an impromptu birthday performance tomorrow!

Lilia: And we wouldn't want it to clash with the party we're hosting at the dorm, right? So, we wanted to make sure the schedules lined up.

Jade: Aah… So that's what it was. Speaking of the Pop Music Club, I found the performance they gave during the freshmen club orientation to be utterly captivating.

Jade: To think you were putting in this much effort behind the scenes to make it happen. I'm sure this one will be just as hilar― splendid as last time.

Lilia: Well, yeah, we're gonna go all out and rock on! It'll be in our club room like usual, though.

Lilia: There's no admission to come see us this time. You should come and witness my amazingly passionate screamo.

Jade: Fufufu, just hearing you speak of it is giving me quite the thrill. I definitely will be coming by.

Lilia: Kheeheehee, I'll be waiting. …Oookay, I need to get back to searching for Malleus. See ya, Jade.

[Diasomnia Dorm – Lounge]

[Diasomnia Students chatter]

Lilia: ―Everyone, I found Malleus. Just as I thought, he hadn't realized it was the meeting time already.

Lilia: Now, we might be a little late, but we'll start the meeting now! We need to quickly chat through the important stuff, since we're short on time.

Lilia: For our Housewarden's sake, we'll start with the agenda for today…

[Diasomnia Student A speaks]

Lilia: …Hm? You've already spoken through the topics? You all thought it would be rude to bother Malleus with this meeting?

Lilia: So you're saying… I DIDN'T NEED TO GO LOOKING FOR MALLEUS～?!

[Diasomnia Dorm – Lilia's Room]

Lilia: Whew. It's a struggle having so many model students taking initiative...

Lilia: Well, now I'm done with my shower. I'm not taking one step out of my room anymore.

Lilia: Let's gooo, the sun's set already so I'm feelin' at the top of my game. My day finally starts now!

[Diasomnia Dorm – Lilia's Room]

Lilia: First, I'll do all my daily quests for my game… Huh, where's my keyboard? I swear I had it here yesterday…

[rustle, rustle]

Lilia: Ohh, here it is. It just got completely buried under this stack of papers.

Lilia: There sure are a ton of papers scattered about. This is a test from last year, and that's something I got my first year here. Oh, and this…

「Survey on Quality of Life Improvements for the Student Body」

Lilia: A survey? …Oh right, Crowley was practically demanding that it gets filled in.

Lilia: I was ignoring it, since I couldn't really think of anything to write. I guess I should finish it up before it gets buried under things again.

Lilia: But even so, what am I supposed to request…? We're kept out of the rain and wind, and have fully working AC. I also have an abundance of time to spend eating or enjoying myself.

Lilia: I am able to watch over my family learn, while surrounded by friends. It would be too greedy to ask for anything more.

Lilia: I'll just write, "I have no issues with the current quality of life," and―

[clatter, clatter…!]

[CRASH!]

[THUD! BAM!]

Lilia: Things just keep falling off their little piles whenever I turn around. …But hey, it's no big, since it's not interfering with me at all!

[knock, knock]

Lilia: Hm? Looks like someone's here, and so late at night. Coming! I'll open the door so hold on a sec.

[Diasomnia Student B speaks]

Lilia: Oh, it's just my neighbors. Don't worry, there's no problems here.

[Diasomnia Students leave]

Lilia: Dear me, that's the problem with stone buildings, they make even the smallest noise echo so loudly. Especially when it's quieter at night.

Lilia: Whenever I'd play my instrument, there'd be an uproar about some kind of terrifying sounds echoing night after night.

Lilia: All I was doing each day was playing a little drums while doing a little dance… Dorm life sure can be difficult to get used to.

Lilia: If I didn't have to deal with that, then I could watch movies at full volume, or stream video games…

Lilia: Ohh, I guess this is something I can add to the survey. "Sound travels too easily. I'd like to install a soundproofing system.

Lilia: What else…? Ah! I don't have time to be doing this. I'll miss my consecutive login bonus. I need to log in to the game right now!

Muscle Red: Farewell, see you next raid.

Lilia: Today's drop rate was trash… On days like this, it's best to just cut my losses and not keep going.

Lilia: Before I turn off my computer, I think I'll check out that online crane game. Sometimes they have some real fun prizes there.

Lilia: Ooh, that plushie armrest looks cute! How many people are waiting in line…? Oh, just one. Perfect, I'll join the queue then.

Lilia: I never thought there'd come a day where I'd be able to play a crane game from the comforts of my room.

Lilia: It has so many different things, from snacks to everyday objects, and even gives a free play for logging in. Someone thought this through real well.

Lilia: Even these dragon feet slippers I'm wearing now was something I won from using those free play tickets.

Lilia: Oh, it's finally my turn. This little plushie looks like it has a heavy head, so… I'll start by dropping the crane around here!

Lilia: Take that! …Nice, it moved like I wanted. Then now, I'll aim for the same place one more time―

Lilia: ―Now I'm just feeling waaaay exhausted… Even after it felt like it would almost fall, it still took a long time to get there.

Lilia: Everything came out alright in the end, since I got it, but… Looks like it wasn't just the drop rate in the game earlier, my luck is just no good today.

Lilia: But I was able to get what I wanted, so I'm happy with that. Winning it when I wasn't expecting it is just another kind of fun.

Lilia: Well, I guess next I'll continue watching that one drama on the streaming site… Hm? What's this recommended video…?

Lilia: My favorite band just released a new song! I gotta check out their music video right away!

Lilia: Kheeheehee, there's still so much I get to do tonight. I love how every single day is packed full of fun things.

[Diasomnia Dorm – Lilia's Room]

Lilia: Urrrgh… Urh… Bright… …Why's there sunlight?

Lilia: Oh, I forgot to close the curtains… ...Tch. …Disgusting…

Lilia: ...Ah, no, I should get up… Hrrrnnngh, so briiight!

Lilia: In the end, I wasn't even able to do half of what I wanted to do. Night sure does pass quickly…

Lilia: If I just get everything ready with magic, I could fall back asleep now and still make it in time for class… Or not, I'd probably just end up sleeping in.

Lilia: I guess I'll head to the washroom to try and wake up.

[Diasomnia Dorm – Washroom]

[splash]

Lilia: Whew! The water in the wintertime is so chilly that it wakes me right up. Now, next is…

[Diasomnia Student C speaks]

Lilia: Oh hey, good morning. I see you've come to the washroom as well, this morning. …Hm? What am I doing?

Lilia: It's skincare, S-K-I-N-C-A-R-E! You shouldn't skimp on it, you know～? For example, I'm going to…

Lilia: Hm? Was I supposed to start with this watery stuff first? Or was it the more paste-like stuff?

Lilia: …Eh, shouldn't matter which goes on first! Once they're on my skin, it'll all end up the same.

Lilia: 'Kay, skincare done! As for the makeup… Ooh, right, I should try to do the clumpy eyelash I saw in a video the other day.

Lilia: I'll just use magic to toss on my eyeshadow. Done. The eyelash curler is… Ah, here it is.

Lilia: First, I need to make sure my eyelashes are standing straight up. Like―

Lilia: …Ouch! I caught my eyelid! The road to cosmetic beauty sure is filled with pain and patience…

Lilia: Once I brush the little hairs, I need to apply mascara to make them longer before they lose their structure.

Lilia: Then, I'll use the tweezers. I need to make little clumps before the mascara dries―

Lilia: And there we go, I've given myself the doll-like eyelashes that's all the rage with the young folks these days!

Lilia: Hehe, it really goes well with my big and bright eyes.

Lilia: Next is fixing my hair style. I'll just apply some silky smooth hair milk all over my head, and…

Lilia: Then poof it to completion with a bit of magic. Kheeheehee, I look splendid, befitting of what a birthday boy should look like!

[Diasomnia Dorm – Lilia's Room]

Lilia: Okay, time to get chan… Ouch! Uuuurrrrg… My pinky toe… What numbskull left an amp right in the middle of the walking path!?

Lilia: …Right, this is my room, so the culprit can only be myself. Why does it feel like this room just feels smaller than before?

Lilia: Should I get more storage?

Lilia: …Nah, if I'm going to buy any furniture, I should prioritize getting a small tea table for when Silver and the others come to visit.

Lilia: …Haha, listen to me now. When I was filling out the survey, I thought I was satisfied with everything as they are, but…

Lilia: I can still think of more things I want, and even more things I want to do. Now, when did I learn to wish for such extravagance?

[Main Street]

Jade: Good morning, Lilia-san. Was yesterday's meeting able to go off without a hitch?

Lilia: Morning, Jade. Both the party and the performance are ready to go. Today is going to be a real fun day.

Jade: Fufu, I am certainly looking forward to see what sort of performance we'll be… blessed with today. A very Happy Birthday to you.

Lilia: Right-o! Make sure you have the time of your life during today's performance, too!

Requested by @kingren77.

#twisted wonderland #twst #lilia vanrouge #jade leech #twst lilia #twst jade #twst translation #twst birthday #mention: malleus #mention: sebek #mention: silver #mention: crowley

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dinogoofymutated · 9 months ago

Note

Hello, I love your writing!! And the Kurt taking care of an overworked lover really melted my heart 🫠💕 could I ask for a similar prompt with Logan? He's my #1 X Men man. If this ptompt is too specific no worries, feel free to make it work within your own parameters- but I live with chronic pain/illness, so maybe it could be someone with a condition that flairing up and they refuse to rest/ask for help, making things worse, and Logan finally steps in, maybe scoops them up in his big arms and lovingly forces them to take a break? Logan has such a big protective heart under all his gruffness, and I think we need to see more of it in the Fandom.

💖 Love and Bless You 💖

Wolverine/GN!Reader UGH I love this request!! I hope it's okay that i didn't write about a specific illness, but describe a general chronic pain/mobility difficulty due to it. I need to write soft logan like this more often UGH- also, I was picturing the flirty Logan from Wolverine and the X-men here. He's infected my brain and I need more versions of him like that lol. TWS: Chronic pain/illness. flareups.

If there's one thing anyone knows about Logan, it's that's he's crazy observant, especially with that sniffer of his.

Sure me might not be able to smell when you're in pain, but I 100% thing that he just -knows- when something is off. It's like a sixth sense. Like you move in a particular way or eat your "fuck I hurt" food and he's on you like a goddamn bloodhound.

It doesn't matter how much you protest, or how much you fight him on it, he's not willing to budge when it comes to letting you rest- and if he can sneak in a few extra cuddles, or more time in bed with you, it's just a perk.

Today has been a rough day since you woke up, and you knew it would most likely get worse.

You were having a bit of a flare-up. Well, you say a bit, in all actuality, it was an uphill battle from here. There was just something off the moment you woke up. Your joints were stiff and painful, everyday actions became a chore, and you were hurting much more than normal. But, if there was one thing about you everyone knew, it was that you were certainly stubborn.

You’re in the kitchen currently, resting at the table after popping a batch of cookies in the oven. Jubilee had been begging you to make her some sweet treats, and with her coming home from a rather long mission tomorrow, you decided to surprise her. Your body’s timing was… unfortunate, but there was no stopping you now. You were exhausted after making the dough, and rolling it into balls. After you had popped them in the oven you had painstakingly walked to the fridge to put the rest of the dough inside, muscles protesting each and every step. You had collapsed into the nearest chair, leaning your head back with a sigh, which is where you are now. You let your eyes drift closed as you wait for the timer to go off, relaxing into the seat.

“Hey~” You jump at the sound of the voice, opening your eyes to see a smirking Logan, his arms draped across the back of your chair. You let out a huff, smiling at him.

“Hi Logan.” You say sweetly. One of his hands reaches down to run through your hair, and you feel like a cat as you eagerly lean into the touch.

“How are you feeling?” He asks. You hum, grimacing at the question.

“Fine?” You respond, an unsure tilt in your voice. Logan raises an eyebrow at you.

“Don't bullshit me, sweetheart. I know somethings off.” Logan rumbles. You make a face, sitting up from the chair as normally as you can as the timer for the cookies goes off.

“It's just a minor flare-up. It's fine, I'm fine. I have to finish baking these cookies for tomorrow anyway, so I don't really have a choice.” You say. If he sees the way you stumble a little, he doesn’t comment on it. Logan watches as you take a moment before you open the oven, resting against the counter. You realize that you may have gotten up from the chair just a little too fast as stars spot your eyes. After a minute of rest, hyper-aware of Logan’s eyes on you, you go for it. You barely crack the oven door open before Logan grabs you by the waist.

“Alright, that's enough.” He says. You yelp as Logan drags you away from the oven. He takes the cookies out quickly before he turns around and immediately throws you over his shoulder. Your yelp is more of a screech this time.

“Logan! Let me go- what are you doing?!”

“I'm not gonna stand back and watch you do this to yourself. I'm taking you to bed.” Logan huffs. He’s already walking you out of the kitchen and into the other parts of the mansion as you hit your palms against his back, trying to convince him to put you down.

“But- I- the cookies!” You cry out. Logan has already gotten to your door opening it as he carries you inside.

“I got it. Now just- relax.” He says, plopping you down on the bed. The action has you a little dizzy, and Logan leans in to kiss you on the forehead before he tucks you under the covers.

“I'm going to go get you some water and vitamins. Stay. Here.” You don’t have time to protest before he’s gone, having shut the door behind him. You want to get up and chase after him, tell him that you don’t need any special treatment and that you were fine on your own, but you’re not sure you can really run right now- and the comfort and warmth of your bed and covers are calling you like a goddamn siren song.

You drift in and out of consciousness in bed until Logan is back, with a glass of water and vitamins as promised. He hands you a flintstone gummy as he sits on the bed, and you can’t help but snicker. Logan rolls his eyes, still having delivered vitamins as promised.

“What did you do about the cookies?” You ask as Logan peels back the covers to lie in the bed with you. He pulls you close as he settles in, rubbing his hands soothingly across the parts of you he knows tend to ache the most.

“I put a new batch in the oven. I’ll smell them when they’re ready.” He says. You roll your eyes at him, resting your head against his chest.

“Thank you, you know. Not just for the cookies, but… for caring.” You whisper. He huffs a laugh, leaning down to kiss you on the lips this time.

“You don’t have to thank me, sweetheart. Just rest.”

#x men 97 #x men #x men comics #x men headcannons #x men 97 x reader #wolverine headcannons #wolverine x reader #wolverine #logan howlett headcannons #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett

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moonstruckme · 1 year ago

Note

OOOOH Can i hop on the dr!rem train?!?! I would love to see how he is with someone who just doesn’t really take care of themselves. Like if something’s hurting they just power through. But of course he’s a dr so he’d know 🤔🤔💕💕💕💕

Ofc you can! This is precisely what I need him for haha. Also, when I wrote this my foot was still really hurting and now it feels tons better, so I think writing for him is healing me! Thanks for requesting my love <3

Doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

Remus looks up from his laptop when you hold a bowl of pasta up in front of him enticingly. “Aw, thanks, sweetheart,” he says, taking it from you. He’s been so caught up in his paperwork he hadn’t even heard you bustling around in the kitchen, but you’d been thoughtful enough to bring him his dinner on the couch rather than call him to the table. “You’re too good to me. I’ll be finished here in a minute.”

“It’s no problem,” you say with a smile. “Oh, I forgot I made you tea, too. Just a second.”

You go back towards the kitchen, and Remus thinks to go back to his laptop for the interval of your absence, but something about the way you’re moving catches his attention. You’re walking oddly, shifting an almost imperceptible amount of your weight to one side. It’s not quite a limp, but there’s a stiffness there.

You disappear into the kitchen for half a second, and Remus watches you carefully when you return. Your strides are as quick as if nothing were amiss, but there’s definitely something bothering you. It doesn’t look like the problem is in your foot, or your knee, but maybe your hip…

You pass him the tea, and Remus takes it quickly, chiding you for holding the hot part to pass him the handle. You roll your eyes as you sit, constantly discounting what you consider to be your boyfriend’s overcaution. You never worry about yourself, Remus thinks. Everything that happens to you is secondary, of little concern compared to whatever’s going on with everyone else. You don’t watch out for yourself, and you don’t always welcome others doing it for you either. It makes being someone who loves you an occasionally worrying task.

“How was your day, dovey?” Remus asks, shutting his laptop to enjoy the meal you’ve prepared for him. “I’ve been so focussed on work I’ve barely talked to you since I got home. How are you doing?”

Your smile is tinged with bemusement, but they’re not such odd questions as to draw much suspicion. “Don’t worry about it, I know it’s important stuff. I’m good, honey, how are you?”

“I’m good too,” he says, twirling pasta around his fork and inhaling the steamy aroma of the herbs you’ve mixed in. “Fantastic, now.” You shy, looking down at your own bowl. “Do much walking around today?”

Now your brows furrow, and you bring your fork to your mouth, chewing pensively. “Some,” you answer after a while. “Why do you ask?”

“I just noticed you’re walking a bit funny,” he says as casually as he can, knowing too much attention will only lead to you belittling more than you’re already inclined. “Is there something bothering you, love?”

“Oh, yeah,” you say, looking back to your bowl as though forking your pasta suddenly requires your undivided attention. “Think I twinged something in my leg earlier. It’s not bad, it’s just one of those things, you know? I’ll wake up tomorrow and it’ll be fine.”

It takes a heap of willpower to keep Remus from rolling his eyes. That’s your go-to reaction anytime something’s bothering you: power through and hope it goes away on its own. As someone who knows better, it nettles him incessantly. “Why didn’t you say something earlier? I might be able to help.”

“Because it’s not a big deal,” you say through a mouthful. “Anyway, you were busy.”

“Never too busy for you,” he hums, setting down his plate to lean closer to you, and fine, he’s pandering. If making light of this is what’s going to get you to let him help, that’s what he’ll do. “Let me have a look?” he asks you sweetly.

You look at him, sucking a stray noodle into your mouth. “What, now?”

“Sure,” he says, already moving to perch on the coffee table across from you. “Just to make sure that it’s fine and I don’t need to run to the drug store before it closes or anything.”

You sigh like you’re doing him a big favor. “Okay, but it’s really not bad. You don’t need to worry.”

He hums noncommittally. “Straighten your leg out for me?” You do, and he takes your foot in his hand. “What part hurts, dove?”

“Kinda, like—” You strain to lift one hip off the couch, touching the back of your thigh, “—like, all down here, ish.”

Remus cocks his head. “Does it hurt when you flex your foot?”

“A little,” you reply, nonchalant.

He nods, standing. “Okay, I think I get the picture,” he says. “Lay down for me, please?”

You give him a deadpan look. “Rem, I’m just trying to eat.”

“It’ll only take a second.”

With an eye-roll that you make sure he sees, you set your plate down next to his on the coffee table, laying on your back. Remus sits by your feet, lifting one of your calves so he can see the back of your thigh. He runs a knuckle over the skin there, noticing it’s a bit more swollen than your other leg. “Here?” he asks you.

“Yeah.”

Remus laughs silently at the sudden tight quality to your voice, thinking he knows the cause. He takes a detour to test his theory, migrating his touch further down until his knuckle skims the crease of your buttcheek.

“Careful,” you murmur, tone slightly teasing.

Remus tries and fails to suppress his grin as he forces himself back on task. “It looks like it’s your hamstring,” he says. “It’s a bit more swollen, but in a lot of cases there’ll be bruising too, and I don’t see any of that. Do you remember when you hurt it?”

“Mhm.”

Remus decides not to question you further on that for now; he’ll lecture you on telling him these things more quickly later. “Did you hear any sort of popping noise?”

“No,” you say, sounding unsure. “I think I would’ve noticed, right?”

“You would have,” Remus reassures you, relieved. “It’s probably just a pulled muscle, then. I’m going to test it really quickly to be sure, okay?”

“Okay,” you say warily, and Remus has you flex your foot, taking your leg in both hands as he straightens it and lifts it upward. You hiss, and he stops.

“That hurts?”

“Yeah.” Your voice is tight again, now for the wrong reasons, and Remus lowers your leg carefully.

“Alright, sorry.” He kisses your knee. “Well, at least it shouldn’t take too long to heal. I’ll get you an ice pack when we’re done eating, and I want you to elevate it and take ibuprofen.”

You sit up, clearly ready for your boyfriend’s mollycoddling to be over as you grab for your bowl. “Already am,” you say with a smile that Remus supposes is meant to be reassuring. Instead, he frowns.

“Sweetheart.” He gives you an admonishing look. “You were taking painkillers for this and you weren’t going to tell me about it?”

“Don’t be mad at me,” you say lightly. “I made you pasta.”

Now it’s Remus who’s sighing laboriously, pressing a reluctant kiss to the side of your head. “I suppose that does make up for everything, doesn’t it?”

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number1jeonginstan · 1 year ago

Note

Sucking on Minhos fingers while he's got you in a headlock... Hehe

A/N: THIS WAS SUCH A GOOD REQUEST!!! At first, I didn't know what to write, so that's why I took so long to fulfill it. I usually try and imagine scenarios in my head and then play them out in my writing, and it finally hit me while I was re-watching Chainsaw Man today. I really hope I did you justice and you enjoy it because I think this might be my favorite fic to write to this day!!!

WC: 2.7k (1.6 is literally smut...)

Minors don't interact, 18+

Pairing: Roomate!Lee Know x afab!reader

Warnings: Lee Know calls the reader a slut, cum eating, mirror sex (just a bit), head lock, protected sex (for the first time ever), idk what else?

It was a normal night between you and your roommate Minho, he would spend every Friday cooking for the both of you guys while you caught up on assignments. It was a good arrangement because you hated cooking, and it was his favorite pastime. In return, you would wash all the dishes and make dessert for the both of you. Baking had always been your favorite, and you loved trying new recipes with him, and he did the same when it came to new dishes.

This week, he wanted to try out a sous vide steak. “Can you pass me the butter please?” Minho said across the kitchen. “Yeah of course!” you said, walking across the kitchen to pass it to him. “Thank you!” he replied back, basting the steak that he had searing on the stove with the butter you just passed him.

You went back to sitting on the barstool, continuing to work on the assignment you had due for your Journalism class at midnight. As you continued to work, Minho continued to cook. He was making a side of vegetables but needed your opinion on whether or not they were seasoned enough.

“I need you to taste this,” he said, holding up a fork in front of you. You were so immersed in your assignment that you just opened your mouth, waiting for him to put it in your mouth. He did so, and before you could notice how he stared at the fork leaving your mouth you said “I think it needs more salt, just a pinch, but it’s good.”

He just coughed and nodded, turning away, not letting you see how his ears turned a bit red at the tips. “Yeah, let me add some more salt and then we can sit down and eat.”

“That works for me!” you replied, finishing up the assignment at hand and submitting it. You close your laptop, pick up the plates, and place them on the table in the middle of your apartment. “What kind of wine do you want to drink tonight?” you asked him, looking in the fridge. “Red would go best with today’s steak,” he replied cutting up the steak into pieces on the cutting board.

“Alright got it”

As you took the first bite, you moaned to him how good it was. “I think this is your best recipe yet,” you told him while taking a bite of the vegetables. You didn’t realize that your little moan caused him to cough up a bit of his wine.

To distract himself from what just happened, he told you how Jisung had accidentally spilled coffee all over himself at work and he laughed so hard that he spilled some on himself too. You told him about your week too, how classes were kicking your ass too.

“Oh, and this dude in my literature class asked me for his number.” You took another bite of the steak. He was fuming a bit, but not wanting to show it he casually asked “Did you give it to him?”

“I didn’t want to be impolite, plus he seemed nice so I did. He invited me to get dinner with him tomorrow.” You said while taking a sip of your wine.

“Did you say yes?” he asked, annoyed you were giving your number out to total strangers.

“I told him I would most likely be able to, but if something came up I would have to cancel and he said that was totally fine, why?” you replied, a bit confused as to why he was so interested.

“Oh, I was just wondering, it’s been a while since you’ve been on a date.”

“Yeah, I know, that’s why I wanted to go out. I’m tired of being stuck at home constantly.” Before he could interject, you quickly spoke up again. “Not that I’m tired of hanging out with you, I love spending time with you. I just want to look pretty for someone, get all dressed up,” pointing down at yourself, “not just in sweats all the time.”

“That makes sense,” Minho scoffed, and you could hear a bit of undertone in his voice.

You decided to ignore it, collecting both of your dishes as you finished them. “Do you wanna play the new episode of Chainsaw Man while I bring the flan?” you asked

“You made flan again?” he asked while walking over to the couch. “Yeah, I knew how much you liked it last time, plus my friend gave me this recipe to perfect it.”

“Oh, that’s nice, thanks for thinking about me.” he was already sitting down so you couldn’t see the grin that was plastered on his face. “Hey, don’t be so egotistical, I liked it too,” you said while bringing over two bowls of it.

You guys sat in silence, eating the flan while the episode played in the background. Minho would occasionally look at you, watching your little reactions to what was playing on the screen in front of the both of you.

“Damn, I wish I was Denji,” you said loud enough for Minho to hear. It was a scene of Himeno putting him in a headlock. “You want to be choked?” Minho asked, not sure if he understood you correctly.

“I mean, it seems weird, but also, I really want to try it,” you shrugged to Minho.

“If you want to try it, I can put you in a headlock” he replied back with no hesitation. “I mean, I don’t think it will choke you or anything, but I am pretty strong so if you want to…”��

Before he could even finish his sentence, you quickly replied with a “Yes!”

“I mean only if you are comfortable with it, if you don’t want to I mean we don’t have to” you rambled on.

“I don’t mind as long as you are comfortable with it, just tap my arm if it’s too much.” He said, pausing the show and patting the spot next to him. You crawled to him, sitting on your knees right next to him. What you didn’t realize was how flushed Minho had become, he could feel his pants tighten a bit at the thought of him in his arms.

“Can I sit in your lap you can do it from behind?” you asked innocently, your doe eyes looking up at him. He swore he groaned out loud, but he stopped himself, composing himself and just nodding.

You climbed into his lap, your back facing his chest. You felt his arm wrap around your throat, your bicep slowly squeezing it. “Tell me if it’s too much, okay kitten?” and you just whimpered in response. This is the first time he’s ever called you that and you can feel yourself getting wet in his lap.

You began to squirm, causing him to groan behind you. “Fuck, don’t start something you can’t finish.”

“What if I want to start something?” you tilt your head up, trying to get a good look at your roommate's face.

You had never realized how beautiful he was, you knew he was attractive. It was evident, he was one of the best-looking men you had ever met, but his beauty astonished you in that moment.

Before you could even say something, he flipped you around. “Fuck kitten, you don’t know how long I’ve been wanting to do this. Seeing you in your tiny shorts and big t-shirts around the apartment. That one time you took my shirt and wore it around the house, I swear I was hard that entire day after seeing you.”

You just giggled at him, “Oh baby, this is no laughing matter, maybe I should shut you up?”

You just nodded up at him, as he slipped his fingers in your mouth. You began sucking on them, wrapping your tongue around both digits, wetting them with your saliva and he just groaned above you. “Fuck baby” he just groaned thinking about how well you would take his cock in your mouth.

He slipped his digits out of your mouth, placing a kiss on your lips. One kiss became another and another, and then it turned into a heated make-out session. In the process, he had flipped you on top of him and you began grinding on his semi-hard cock.

“Fuck baby you feel so good, but let’s get off the couch okay?” you just nodded at him, still feeling lightheaded from his mouth on yours.

You both got up, him picking you up, tossing you onto his shoulder. Before you could protest, he began walking to his room. You began writhing on his shoulder, wanting to be put down. “Stop acting like a brat,” he said while smacking your ass.

“Minho!” you shouted, eliciting a chuckle from him. “If you act good, I’ll take care of you, but if you act like a brat, I won’t let you cum.” You quickly shut up, allowing him to throw you on the bed. He hovered above you, placing kisses on your neck, and moving down to your thighs.

He took off your sweatpants, leaving you only in your oversized shirt and panties. He began to lift your shirt only to see you not wearing a bra. “Had these out just for me, and I had no clue? What else are you hiding from me, baby?” He asked, sucking on one of your nipples causing you to moan. “You just wanted to act like a slut, hoping we did this, is that why?”

“Yes Minho, just wanted you” you moaned again as he moved onto the other breast. He just groaned, you were good to him, too good. He moved down, kissing your stomach and then your thighs. You rubbed them together, wanting some sort of friction.

“No, keep these open for me kitten, I want to see your sweet little cunt.” He said while pulling down your panties. “Fuck baby, this pussy is so wet, tell me who’s doing this to you.”

“You are Minho, only you can do this to me.” you moaned as he liked a stripe against your pussy. His lips catch your clit, sucking on it causing your legs to shut. “Kitten, what did I just say?”

“To keep my legs open for you.” You were hiding your face behind your hands, a bit ashamed of how wet you were for him, how much he turned you on. “So, let’s keep them open okay? You can be a good girl and do that for me can’t you?”

You just nodded, opening your legs again. “Fuck, you taste better than any dessert you’ve ever made me.” He said while licking your pussy another time. “You are going to let me eat you for dessert whenever I need it aren’t you?”

“Yes Minho, I’ll let you do anything to me” you moaned as he started putting his veiny fingers inside of you. He began fucking his fingers inside at a quick pace, still sucking on your clit and all you could do was moan.

He hadn’t even put his cock in you and you could already feel yourself cumming. “Please Minho, too much, I’m gonna cum.”

“Then be a good kitten and cum on my fingers, then I’ll make you cum on my cock. You can take more than one round, can’t you baby?”

“Yes, can be a good girl for Minho, please can I cum, please sir let me cum” you moaned as his fingers hit that particular spot in you causing you to go over the edge, your entire body shaking as you came over the edge, cumming on his fingers.

“Minho, need your cock, please need it inside of me.” you pleaded and he was in awe. You had just cum, but you were still begging for his cock. He was going to have fun with you.

“You just came and already need my cock? How much of a needy slut are you? You just want your hole filled at all times?” He scoffed at you. He was still fully dressed as you were fully naked underneath him. You pawed at his shirt and he just laughed. He took it off, along with his sweats.

You could see how hard his dick was through his boxers, your eyes widening a bit, trying to hide your reaction by covering. He chuckled at your reaction, releasing his fat cock from his boxers, taking a condom out of his drawer, and tearing the foil with his mouth.

“Yes, just a slut for you sir, I need you, need you in me.” You spread your cunt apart with your fingers, trying to show him where you needed him most and he just groaned.

He slowly pushed his tip inside of you, knowing how eager you were. He was also eager, his dick hard as soon as you moaned his name the first time. “Fuck baby, this pussy is so tight, don’t know why I didn’t fuck it beforehand.”

He slowly pushed his dick inside of you, your cunt squeezing it tight, making it hard for him to fully still inside of you. “Baby I need you to relax so you can take my cock. You can be a good kitten for me and do that right?”

You simply nodded, taking his fingers into your mouth once again, wrapping your lips around his digits, causing him to groan as he finally entered you fully. “Fuck baby, you feel even better than you taste.” You simply moaned, feeling so full as he was fully inside of you.

“So good Minho, feel so full” you moaned, feeling so full of him you couldn’t help but clench around him. “Please move, I need you” You looked up at him, his fingers going back into your mouth and he couldn’t control himself. He began thrusting into you, causing you to moan around his fingers.

“Fuck this pussy is so tight, gonna fuck you all around the apartment from now on. This pussy is mine and mine only, you got it?” You just nodded as he began thrusting into you faster.

You were on the verge of cumming, but Minho pulled out before you could. Before you could protest, he flipped you around, your ass up and face at the end of his bed looking straight at the mirror in front of you. “I want you to see how pretty you look on my cock, how my cock is making you dumb, how good it is making you feel.”

You felt yourself going dumb, the only thing on your mind was Minho and his cock. “Minho, fuck it feels so good.” you moaned, feeling him hit that spot inside of you. “Yeah, kitten? Look at who’s making you cum, look at who’s making you dumb on their cock.”

“You are, you are making me feel this good” you moaned as his thrusts got harder. With one more thrust, you were cumming on his cock.

“Fuck, this pussy is to die for” he groaned, continuing to thrust into you trying to get to his own high. After a few more thrusts, he could feel himself getting ready to cum. “Where do you want me baby?”

“In my mouth,” you said with no hesitation. You wanted to taste him like he tasted out. “Fuck kitten, you are going to be the death of me” he took off the condom, wrapping his hand around his cock. With a tug of his cock, he came into your mouth. You swallowed all of it, showing him and he kissed your lips.

You both fell back on his bed, him wrapping his arms around you as he covered you both with his blanket. Both of your clothes still splayed on the floor of his room. “That was… unexpected,” you said.

“A good unexpected or bad?” he asked a bit scared of your response. “Definitely good,” you said while kissing his lips. He grinned, “You better cancel that date tomorrow because I’m the one taking you out tomorrow.” You just hummed, playing with his hair.

Minho didn’t need to know that no one had actually asked for your number, you were just trying to make him make the first move.

taglist: @sclassstay @minhosify

(my perm taglist is open, also sorry for forgetting to add my tag list, it just slipped my mind, so sorry)

#skz #stray kids #straykids x reader #skz smut #skz x reader #straykids smut #ju <3 answers #skz lee minho #skz lee know #lee know smut #lee know x reader #lee know #lee minho #ju <3 writes

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luvhughes43 · 1 year ago

Text

birthday | quinn hughes

luvhughes43 masterlist🌙

request: can you write an angsty one for quinn where he forgets your birthday because he’s busy with hockey and you fight about it and then you give him the silent treatment the next day and he tries to make it up it up you

note: i changed it a little bit!

word count: 1.2k words

you waited all day with baited breath, wondering when your boyfriend of three years would acknowledge your birthday. usually, depending on both of your work schedules, quinn would take you to your favourite cafe for breakfast and then later in the day he would cook one of your favourite dishes for dinner. In between meals, you’d spend the day doing whatever you wanted, which usually just meant going for a walk and maybe to the mall.

you woke up early and got yourself dressed and ready for the day. quinn was already gone to the gym which wasn’t unusual, so you scrolled through your emails while you waited for him to come home.

quinn didn't come home till noon.

“hey babe,” quinn greeted you quickly, pecking your cheek before he rushed into your shared bedroom. you swivel around on the bar stool you were sitting on, eyes following quinn as he jogged from your bedroom and into the bathroom.

when he reemerged from the room, bag in hand, you frown. “what are you doing?”

“the guys are going to this new place.. some new gym downtown”

“oh,” you deflate, “weren’t you just at the gym tho?”

“yeah but babe, this one has an ice bath!” quinn explains enthusiastically, as if the addition of an ice bath should outweigh the excitement that was your 24th birthday.

“right…”

“we're not working out or anything. just checking the place out. It's good for team building” he adds.

you stare blankly at him, wishing that this is just some elaborate joke and that he has a plan for your birthday.

“right well, i’ll see you later!” quinn flashes a quick smile as he leans down to kiss your cheek again.

“bye…?”

quinny: going out for dinner! so sorry we didn't get to spend any time together today. wanna do dinner tomorrow night?

quinny: the teams really getting on good! I think we’ve got a close group here

it was 6pm, you were alone, and in approximately 10 minutes you would officially be 24. how great is this? you thought sarcastically. you were about to be 24, in a too nice apartment, with a boyfriend who completely forgot about you.

you pulled your cookies out of the oven, dropping the tray on top of the stove with a clatter. tears sprung to your eyes as you pulled out a small pack of glittering candles. you didn't even get an invite to quinns dinner tonight.

you watched your candles go out slowly while you imagine how you should've spent the day. Happy birthday to me…

“hey baby, what did you do all day?” quinn asked as he slipped into bed next to you. his alarm clock had blinded you with the time, 11:24, lit up in a cutting shade of red. he tried to hold your gaze, but you turned over. he had actually forgotten.

quinn grabbed at your shoulder, but you shrugged him off. “I’m tired,” you whispered through the ball in your throat. if quinn talked about his day, you might actually cry.

“what's wrong?” quinn asked, genuinely concerned. he sat up in bed, reaching over and flicking his lamp on.

“I’m not talking about this tonight”

“well, no. if you're going to say something then say it. what did i do wrong this time?” you rolled around to face him just as he finished his sentence with an eyeroll.

“excuse me?” you were seeing red.

“just tell me what i did wrong so i can fix it. did i leave a sock on the floor?” he jokes, quickly surveying the room and noticing that you cleaned earlier.

you sat up in bed. “you're such an asshole! you know that right?”

“woah! no need to get angry! i just wanted to go to bed. Its late.”

“yeah well, i wanted to celebrate my birthday with my boyfriend today so i guess we don't always get what we want, huh?” your voice is venomous as you climb out of bed. you rip your pillow off the bed with every intention to sleep in the guest room.

quinns shocked expression was almost comical. his eyes wide, eyebrows raised, and mouth slightly agape as he finally realized what was bothering you. with how busy his new schedule was due to being captain, he had completely forgotten about you.

“y/n don't go! I’m so sorry!” quinn kicks the comforter away from him as follows you down the hallway.

“I don't want to talk to you right now,”

“baby, please! I swear I didn’t mean to forget-” quinn started but you abruptly cut him off.

“i don't want to hear it! I waited for you all day! I shouldn't have to remind you when my birthday is! We talked about it literally last week!”

“I’m sorry! I’ll make it up to you!” quinns words fell on deaf ears as you slammed the guest bedroom door in his face.

as soon as the door was locked, you let all your emotions of the day out. your sad uber eats delivery, raw cookies, the moping around… quinn.

quinn stood on the other side of the door, face in between his hands as he listened to you cry.

the next morning, quinn was on good boyfriend behaviour. he had bought you a bouquet of your favourite flowers, made you breakfast, and had a birthday card waiting at the table for you.

you rubbed at your eyes tiredly as you made your way into the kitchen. you had gotten absolutely no sleep last night, and you were still upset at quinn.

quinn watched you in silence as he set the last piece of french toast in his pan. you glanced up at him before averting your gaze towards your gifts.

To Y/n,

Happy 24th Birthday. I love you beyond words.

Quinn

“Quinn,” you sighed as you set the card back on the table.

“It’s a shitty card I know,” you can’t help the small smile that graces your lips . “I’m so sorry. I called in sick today.. we can do something or you can do whatever, its up to you! I just really want you to know that i’m sorry” he sets the fresh piece of french toast onto a plate before sliding it over to you.

“I know you're sorry,” you say, stepping over and into quinns open arms. you stand there for a minute, quinn softly rubbing your back while you lay your head on his shoulder. “I just felt really awful”

quinn hums to acknowledge what you were saying. “I know. I don't know what was wrong with me”

“you have new responsibilities q. you're going to be busy with the team” you put his thoughts into words and it was his time to sigh.

“Still. There’s no excuse” quinn hugs you tighter. “I love you”

“I love you too” you whisper into the side of his neck, arms tightening around him.

It wasn't okay that he had forgotten, but at least he was making an effort to fix it.

#quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #nhl blurb #nhl fic

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tbgblr2 · 15 days ago

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A Halloween to remember

This is a story I was asked to write for @tara-b who asked me to write an account of the day her twin sons were born on Halloween 2023. Part detailed by her, part artistic licence I hope you enjoy the story.

Here we are again… 31st October, 2023. Halloween. Once again we’re putting the finishing pieces together for our party, which we have ran for family and friends since we got married 3 years ago.

However there’s a difference right now… I’m pregnant. Really pregnant in fact, due tomorrow and might be having contractions really pregnant. To make matters worse we’re expecting twins… and my belly certainly doesn’t hide the fact.

But I can’t just stop and give up on the party, we’ve confirmed to everyone we were still going ahead and the guests are starting to arrive.

I’m out in the back garden blowing up an inflatable spider…. To be honest a big breath in and a big breath out is really helping the pains I’m feeling. Just have to get through the next few hours, we can wave goodbye to the guests, fill up the birthing tub and relax into it, get the birth I’d dreamed of. Only a few hours.

In through your mouth… hold it a second… and breathe out. It’s not efficient to blow up a balloon, but it certainly helps.

I stand up and groan, one hand supporting my back as I realise I was stooping over. The other holds the spider. It looks like it’s done. Just need to set it down over…. Shit. That was a feeling of a gush. My panties are soaked… it’s running down my leg. My heart races… that must have been my waters. Must have been my waters… oh hell… babies are coming, babies are coming… it’s all so real now.

The spider just gets dropped where I stand and I figure I look like a deer caught in the headlights as my eyes shoot wide. I look around. No one saw me. Good… good. Hopefully we can stick with the plan. Can’t let the party be ruined.

I walked inside to find my husband and our neighbour chatting in the kitchen - they were plating up canapés ready to take in for the rest of the guests. We got on well with our neighbour… he was a nice guy. Both he and his wife had offered to babysit for us when the babies were born.

“You look like you’re ready to pop any minute now” he grinned as he saw me approaching. I don’t think he realises just how true that statement is.

I was dressed as cleopatra with my husband as Mark Anthony. My dress had a cut out for my belly - there was no way the standard costume could fit me in my current state. Our neighbour opened his arms wide to give me a hug - he quite liked giving hugs and if I’m going to be honest, he gives really good ones - and took the opportunity to rub my belly. I know some people may consider that a bit forward, but we’d already discussed this in the past and he actually had a way of making the babies calm down inside of me so I wasn’t going to complain!

“Little angels kicking up a storm today?” He enquired after a few seconds of contact.

“Yeah, something like that…” I didn’t go into too much detail but I was scared that he would feel a contraction. Pretty sure it would feel a lot more different to what a kick felt like from the outside.

My wince gave it away as I visibly saw my stomach tighten. I watched his eyes blink and he pulled his hand away. “Braxton Hicks” I grunted, a little winded. He nodded understanding. He and his wife had 2 children of their own and they had seen all this before - though not 2 at once !

“Look after yourself and don’t work too hard” he said as he grabbed 2 plates and went back to the main room leaving just my husband and I in the kitchen.

We kissed. “You sure you’re ok? You look a little flushed?” He asked. I smiled and gave the best effort I could under the circumstances.

“I’ll be ok” I said “just very pregnant if you hadn’t noticed.”

“Oh… I’ve noticed all right!” He was grinning as he kissed me, and for that fleeting moment everything was all right in the world. “We finish this party, get rid of the guests and I promise it’s just you and me together until the babies come.”

I grinned “I like that idea, I like it a lot.” I emphasised the belly by pressing my hands into the small of my back and sticking it out with a groan, masking the start of another contraction. Was I imagining it or were they getting faster… no… can’t be.

“Duty calls… let’s go meet our guests” my husband smiled as he grabbed the other plate and walked through leaving me alone.

As I stood in the kitchen, readying myself for the onslaught of people and well wishers, I rubbed my belly. “Just hold out a little longer… mammas got to do some things then you can have your grand entrance. Please little babies… please “

The first few hours were manageable. The constant moving from guest to guest took my mind off my predicament, and I began to wonder if it was just a false alarm after all. I had a few glasses of water and I’d learned during my midwife appointments that hydration levels could affect things later in pregnancy. I was certainly the definition of late pregnancy at this stage.

As the party goers got more and more drunk as the night wore on, the well wishers went from “you look glowing” to “let me touch your belly for good luck” like I was some sort of Buddha statue. I laughed along with it with good grace, but as the night wore on the contractions came back with full force and it took a lot of careful avoiding to make sure no one saw anything too obvious.

My husband was certainly getting into the party spirit. He had promised to have a drink but not have too much just in case we did need to leave the house in an emergency but after the 10th person asked him to “wet the babies head” with them… he started to misbehave as well.

There was a sudden crash as a bowl we had set out got knocked over and smashed. Instinct had me rush toward it to clean up the mess but my husband was quicker and shooed me away. “Can’t have you bending down in your condition. I’ll clean this up, can you go fetch another bowl from upstairs.” We had some spare cutlery and crockery stored in a cupboard out of the way.

It was when I turned around he tapped me on the shoulder causing me to flinch. “Darling… I think you may have had a little accident. You’ve a wet patch on your skirt”. I gasped at the revelation. I was almost certain it was my waters. Perhaps the initial gush wasn’t all of it and I’d continued to leak for hours… or perhaps it had always been there and people either hadn’t noticed or were too polite to say. Either way I went red with embarrassment and said I would get changed when I went for the bowls.

I made my escape without much fuss. Completely forgetting the bowl I scrambled into the en suite bathroom. My hands slipped under my skirt and pulled down my sodden panties which slapped to the floor with the added weight of the liquid they were doused in. I don’t know if my body saw this as a sign, but I suddenly had to push and I almost doubled over with the unexpected sensation.

I went with it, closing my eyes and widening my stance involuntarily by sidestepping, grunting as I strained with effort. I gasped and strained again. Finally the contraction ebbed away and I had to re-assess the situation.

I had left my phone downstairs and shouting down would cause a panic no doubt. I would do this myself and surely my husband will come to check on me soon. I used the time I had to get out of my dress and bra, turning on the shower to full force. I checked the temperature just as the next contraction started and I stumbled in, turning my back to the shower jet and spreading my arms and legs like a starfish to brace me.

Prior to the need to push coming over me, I’d wondered if there would be obvious sensations to tell me to push… all I can say is that given the option between pushing or walking (or basically any other activity that I could possibly do) at that time… I had no choice.

The roaring water encouraged me to let go, I roared with it. I yelled. Part of my brain presumed the whole house would come running at the commotion but there was nothing. Another push - keep going girl, this is all on me now - and I felt weak at the knees with the effort. I had to get down to the ground before I slipped or fell.

My brain was focused on the need to push, and before I realised I was on the floor with the shower water gushing over my head. I can’t actually remember climbing down but logically that’s what must have happened. My feet were flat on the floor but something came to me. Leverage. My legs swung up at my hips and braced against the wall of the shower. It gave me something to push against.

A side effect of the reposition was that the shower water - once blasting me on the back and top of my head, instead washed my belly and between my legs. Good for making sure there was no mess… I’d seen the blood and who knows what else coming out during birth videos I’d watched… but part of me was worried for the baby with the water streaming down my belly and between my legs - right into the path where they babies were going to come from.

I shook my head. Idiot. Babies are born underwater. These babies were going to be born under water. I guess I kind of get a water birth after all.

Logical thought left me again as the contraction ramped up and once more I was left with the entirety of my conscious thought being “PUSH!” I closed my eyes and yelled out with abandon, I could feel the movement of the baby passing through me. I realised I couldn’t see… couldn’t check how well I was doing, couldn’t judge how much of the baby I’d pushed out. I had to rely on the feelings and the power of touch.

My hand groped down between my legs and I was honestly expecting to feel the head there… I mean it was certainly painful enough to warrant the labour being progressed almost to completion… but as my hand groped down I felt closed lips. I slipped my finger between the folds and that’s when I felt it… my first baby. It was certainly an alien feeling compared to years and years of exploration I’d done with my fingers before getting pregnant.

Still… feeling something there certainly had me buoyant. I knew I was doing it. The first baby was coming. I was going to be a mother. The contractions came thick and fast, at least in my opinion, as they seemed to be on top of one another with hardly time to catch my breath before the next hit me… but I was getting rewarded for the effort. I proved once more with my fingers, and as the burning sensation between my legs was testament to… the baby was starting to emerge.

Push, push, push again. Rest whilst I can, push once more. I was lost in it. I lost count after 10 sessions of pushing, my mind was too focused on the thought of getting the baby out than keeping track.

My grunts, roars, and occasional screams still went unanswered by my husband or any of our guests. How long had I been gone for. Was it minutes… was it hours… no don’t think, just PUSH!

I felt the head with my hands as I realised just how wide I’d been stretched when I got the ring of fire. They call it that, it might as well be the crotch supernova. I was crying at this point, though the tears were unidentifiable among the shower water. I wanted to push but I recalled from a video about panting through this stage, trying to avoid a tear by going to fast. I opened my mouth wide and blew out. Hoo, hoo, hoo, hoo… then a gasp as the head reached the tipping point and shot out of me.

When I felt the… what could only be described as a ‘twang’ of my stretched lips springing back to place as the widest part of the head passed through me, I made a sound which I can only describe as a banshee wail. It knocked me senseless, to the point of where I lay sprawled on the ground of the shower panting heavily wondering just what happened.

Then panic set in. I hadn’t thought this through. Someone needed to check the cord was free… and there was no one here. I yelled out my husbands name, and there was no answer. I didn’t know what to do… what if I hurt the baby. I reached forward but couldn’t tell what I was feeling. The only mirror in the room was mounted on the wall and there’s no way I can do the acrobatics needed to get a glimpse between my legs. I felt my heart beating faster and faster when suddenly I felt a gushing release and then the baby was out and on the floor of the shower. Whilst in my panicking state I hadn’t realised the baby had turned and after the contraction forced out the first shoulder the rest came easily.

That’s it. I’d done it. This squalling, wriggling thing between my legs was my baby. My first child. I was a mother. I’d done it. I’d survived.

I rolled and adjusted my body to get onto my knees and that in turn would let me pick up the baby. I was very careful not to step on or damage the umbilical cord. With the baby in my arms I crawled on my hands and knees over to the bathtub where I grabbed onto the side with my free hand and finally managed to get to my feet. Turning off the shower to avoid any more water spraying on the floor I stumble into the bedroom, in a complete daze.

I knew from watching the preparation videos that the placenta would come out soon and as I didn’t have any tools to cut the cord I just flopped down on my side on the bed and admired my baby with him still attached. That child had so many kisses in its first few minutes of life…

Until the contraction brought me back to reality. The realisation that I was having twins and I’d need to do it all over again. I’m not afraid to say that my spine turned to ice in that split second moment of realisation.

I checked the bedside clock. Only 30 minutes had passed since the bowl was smashed. To me it felt like it could have been hours. Hopefully only 30 minutes or maybe even less to go. I was already stretched, I hope the second baby follows the same path as his… I guess big brother.

The next contraction had me feeling like pushing again so I hefted up a leg and pulled it back whilst I was on my side. I’d seen that position on a video, but for whatever reason I just couldn’t get it to feel right. After a few false starts, I decided to go on my hands and knees, straddling the first baby. I don’t mind saying that I was a bit concerned about slipping and squashing the baby, but unless he has his cord detached there was nowhere else really that it would stretch to.

So that was me for the next contraction. Knees and elbows dug into the mattress, my fingers finding a pillow to grab and squeeze and the baby seeming to drift off to sleep underneath me. I suppose the poor dear has had a trying day.

Until of course I was forced to yell out. This startled the baby who in turn screamed at the top of his lungs at having his sleep disturbed. That’s when the bedroom door opened.

My head darted to the side to see my husband partially silhouetted against the door. He yelled out and dashed into the room when he saw what was happening.

“You didn’t tell me!” He yelled.

“I couldn’t… no phone, couldn’t move. Baby… baby coming.” You gasped out as I closed my eyes, scrunched my hands into the pillows and heaved an almighty push.

“What can I do” he asked. The situation certainly catching him off guard.

“Can you…” I couldn’t get my words out between the need to push. I focused on that and left the sentence unfinished. After gathering my breath once the contraction disappeared I quickly managed “cut the cord and get the first baby.”

He nodded and dashed out of the room to get the birth bag we had prepared. I looked down at the wriggling infant below me and couldn’t help but smile at what I’d managed, that perfect little baby that we had made. Soon the need to push was back again though, and I was back to focusing. I didn’t realise my husband had returned to the room brandishing a bad of surgical clamps and some scissors. He stopped dead in his tracks as he got behind me.

“Baby’s… baby’s head. It’s there. Baby’s head.” He was stuttering and stammering at the shock, or perhaps wonder of seeing my lips parting, bringing forth new life. I could only grunt in acknowledgement as the contraction still had me seized it’s its grip.

I could feel the burn starting. I knew the head was filling me and I couldn’t stop it progressing to its inevitable conclusion. I felt him behind me, my eyes clamped shut focusing on both the pain between my legs and the need to make sure I stay supported by my arms in case I collapse on the baby beneath me. There was a tug, another tug, and I sensed, more than heard a snip as the first umbilical cord was snipped.

“Get… the… baby.” I gasped, my hand waving to the child below me. My husband grabbed our son and held him to his chest.

“Can I help with this one?” He seemed eager. I quickly shook my head.

“Get that one somewhere safe he won’t roll off then come back… I’ve… got this” the last 2 words were strained as the need to push overcame me. As my husband stepped to swaddle the first baby and lay him down the head of our second child emerged more and more.

I was sure these were not identical. Sure this one’s head was bigger. Sure I was putting in more effort… but knew deep down that it was just because I was simply exhausted. Still, I knew what needed to be done, and set my mind to it, focusing on nothing else but the sensations of the stretch.

Suddenly cool hands were supporting the burning sensation between my legs. I gasped at the sudden sensation, not expecting it. A finger slipped around the circumference of the head, gently stretching my skin. Another big push. Another… I felt the hands pushing back my lips, and then with a yelp, the second head was free.

I couldn’t do anything else but cry. The tears were streaming down my face, the exhaustion, the overwhelming sensations, they were nearly at an end. I recall the time between the head and the rest of the body coming out earlier, the panic whilst I felt around for the cord. There was no delay this time - my body wanted this baby out. Another long, involuntary groan and the body of our second son slipped into my husbands waiting hands.

I managed to get back onto my haunches as the baby was passed between my legs into my arms. The tears were still streaming down my face as - when I looked up - I realised the same was true of my husband.

He wiped the baby down who burst into his own fit of crying… with the first baby going too. It was a bit of a cacophony in our usually quiet and serene bedroom.

To say the guests were shocked at the new arrivals would be a bit of an understatement.

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

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scarletwinterxx · 8 months ago

Text

your day - dad mark lee scenario

hi🥺 okay so first of all sorry it took me so long to write this, I swear I've been working on it since the day i got the request but the rest of the story wasn't coming to me and i didn't want to put out something I didn't love. but here it is😊🥺 i missed the Lee family too, hope you like it!!!

part1: day with dad mark lee

part2: another day with dad mark lee

part3: a day with the lee's

part4: (prologue) i don't know how to make eggs

part5: glitter pens and goodnight kisses with the Lee's

part6: first love and kisses

part7: naps and baby kicks

part8: then there was three

part9: just like you

part10: fool for you

For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.

and if you want, u can buy me coffee(totally optional but any donation is very much appreciated!) thank you🥺💛

(gif not mine, credits to rightful owner)

The waiting game began a week ago, originally the 3rd Lee baby was suppose to come early May but the due date came and passed but no baby still.

Since it's your third baby you don't feel as nervous but Mark can't really say the same. He even made sure to have all the stuff you'll need at the hospital already loaded in the car along with the baby's car seat.

"You think it might happen tonight?" he asks, nose touching your belly like he can't wait to be close to his baby

"How will they get the baby out?" Minjee asks, she sitting right beside her dad watching your belly too.

"Me and mommy will go to the hospital, then the smart and kind doctor and nurses will help mom" Mark explains as kid friendly as possible

While you listen to the two, Minjung stays beside you quiet on his seat. "You'll be okay, right mom?" he asks you

You smile sweetly at your boy, ever the caring one. "Of course, I will be. Don't worry about it okay? Remember when Minjee was born, this time you can come together" you tell him, giving him a side hug. Your son stays tucked by your side while the daddy-daughter duo make chatters on their own.

"Okay everyone, I think it's time for bed. Mommy might be tired now" Mark tells the kids, picking Minjee up from the bed making the little girl laugh out loud on their way out the room.

Minjung stays behind, waiting to say something to you

"Mommy, I have something to tell you"

"What is it, love?"

"Happy Mother's Day, if I'm reborn again I want you to be my mom again" he tells you, this made you want to burst out into tears

"It's tomorrow but thank you, and I would love to be your mom again and again. I love you, always. Okay?" you open your arms and hug him. Giving him kisses, "My sweet sweet boy, when did you grow up so big like this? Don't grow up anymore" you joke, Minjung laughs at this. He bids goodnight then goes out the room to get ready for the night.

Mark comes back to your room a few minutes later to also get ready for bed, you've already finished yours so you're just waiting for him

"You good there, baby?" he asks while watching you get comfy with your pregnancy pillow. He wishes he can do more for you but for now all he can you is attend to your every need while you carry his child.

It's the third time but he's still very much in awe of you, he thinks it's the most wonderful thing to be growing a human that his and yours. He can't do much about the 'growing a human inside your body' part of it, but he makes sure you're very well taken care of.

"Yep, just tired from today. Are the kids asleep?"

"Yea, they're excited to give your their cards for tomorrow. Don't tell them I told you though"

You let out a chuckle at that, "I'll make sure to look very surprised"

You feel him move from behind you, then he kisses you on the head "Goodnight, baby. I love you" Mark mumbles, giving you a few more kisses and a hug

"Mhm, love you too"

You woke up a few hours later from a sharp pain on your stomach, sitting up carefully on the bed you wait a few moments to get your bearing together when you feel it again

"Mark" you say but the man beside you doesn't move

"Mark" you shake him again but still he's dead as a rock

"Lee Minhyung" you say a bit louder, waking you husband up

"Wha- what what's happening?" Mark sits up confused, one eye still closed

"I think the baby is coming"

"Oh shit, okay uh what do you need? Are you in pain? We should go get dressed"

"Mark"

"The stuff is already in the car, where are my keys though. Should I get you a hoodie? Snacks? I should probably call your doctor"

"Mark"

"Don't panic, we've done this before"

"I'm not really panicking though" you mumble while watching your husband scramble around the room

"Careful, love. You're gonna wake the kids up" you tell him when he tripped on his own feet, it's after midnight so the kid are fast asleep

"Oh right, I should call Haechan to watch them. My parents won't arrive until tomorrow. Where the heck is my phone"

"LEE MINHYUNG" your loud call got his attention, halting his frantic actions

"Breath, baby. You're panicking. Now can you get me one of your sweatpants and a jacket too, then call Haechan. Your phone is right there, the keys is by the door. Breath" you tell him, getting on your feet to get ready also

Mark follows your instructions one by one, if he doesn't he's afraid he might start freaking out again. He helps you down the stairs when you're both ready and wait for Haechan to arrive.

You're not feeling the pain anymore but your belly did get more tense, taking careful steps to the kitchen you grab some snacks for later while Mark checks on the kids before leaving.

The front door open, followed by Haechan calling out for Mark

"He's upstairs, checking on the kids" you answer when Haechan walks in the kitchen

"Aren't you in labor?" he points at you

"I think, I hope. This baby is due so let's hope today is the day"

Mark then arrives, checking if you need anything else before leaving Haechan instructions "Hyung, seriously I got this. I have a kid too" Haechan chuckles

"I know, but Nari is an angel. My Minjee, I can't say the same" you laugh at Mark's words

"She's unpredictable" Haechan says "She's like you, I have a kid like you. Causing me all kinds of trouble" Mark says making you and Haechan laugh

"I got it, I'll watch the kids"

"Sorry if we ruined your mother's day plans, Mark's parent's will be here early morning tomorrow. Thanks again, Hyuck" you tell him while walking towards the door with Mark assisting you

"Don't worry about it, wifey and Nari will come here for breakfast so it's all good. Your kids love me too so it's a win win"

"Thank you again"

"Happy mother's day, Y/N" he smiles at you, giving you a quick hug and Mark a pat on the back.

The drive to the hospital was quiet, a few more contractions every once in a while but nothing you couldn't handle. You got admitted to a room with no trouble and a nurse came to check on you and the baby.

"What a way to celebrate mother's day huh" Mark says, currently he's sitting beside you giving your back a gentle rub as another contraction hits you.

"How are you gonna beat this gift next year" you joke

"Let's get this baby here first then we'll talk" he humors you

A few more hours of waiting when a doctor comes in, "Hello Mrs. Lee, Mr. Lee"

"Everything looks good with you, but there's seem to a little hiccup"

"What? What's wrong? Is the baby okay?" the moment you heard the 'but' your heart started to beat faster

"All good, it's just the baby is currently feet first. Meaning they are not facing the way they're supposed to be. And since your contractions started hours ago and your water already broke, we're in a countdown here before it gets dangerous for you and the baby"

You're at lost for words so you turn to Mark, his hand is holding your the entire time to provide comfort. He looks at you then looks at the doctor again, "What do we need to do? Just please keep my wife and my baby safe"

"I'm afraid she has to get an emergency c-section"

"Mark" you mumble, "Hey hey it's okay, I'm here" he tells you

"We'll get the OR ready for you, a nurse will come here to get some papers signed and get Y/N ready for surgery. We'll do our best to keep her and the baby safe"

It all happened so fast. The doctor exits the room, you didn't even get a few moments before a few nurses enter the room. One talking to Mark about the surgery and a few helped you get ready.

They wheel the bed out of the room, Mark still right beside you.

"Hey, I'll be right beside you the entire time. I know this isn't part of the plan but you can do it" he kisses you on the head

"I'm scared" you say for the first time and this breaks Mark's heart. He wishes there was a way to transfer your pain to him, he'd take it all for you.

"I know, baby. I won't leave okay? I'll be with you. You'll be fine" he assures you. No matter how many times your doctor and all the nurses assured you you'll be fine, only Mark's got you to calm down a bit.

They got you ready for the surgery while Mark waits outside, waiting for one of the nurses to call him. When he got the go signal, he walks in to see you lying down with a curtain in the middle blocking the view of the doctors and nurses helping to get the baby out

"Hey you, how are you feeling?" he asks quietly, running his thumb on your cheek to give some comfort

"Scared, but better now you're here. I just want the baby to come out safe and healthy" you tell him

"They're working on it now, tell me if you're feeling anything weird okay?"

"Mark baby, I'm literally cut open right now while they're trying to get your kid out of me" you joke

"You know what I mean, glad to hear you cracking a joke at a time like this"

You smile at your husband, even though you're really scared right now seeing him and knowing he's there for you is enough to ease your mind. You trust Mark to make sure you're going be all right.

"Okay, the baby's here just a moment okay I see the feet, body out a little more" you hear your doctor say then in a few seconds you hear it

"head out, baby's here and it's a boy. Look momma look" the nurses put the curtain down to show the baby, Mark helped you lean your head up to see. Both of you getting teary eyed, you look over at Mark to see him looking at the baby with the familiar lovestruck look in his eyes.

Seeing him like this, to witness him being the best father to your kids everyday, like life is being brought into him at this very moment is making you think every moment is worth it no matter how scary it is. You love being the mother of his kids as much as he loves being a father to them.

Mark then looks at you, tears already falling down his cheeks "We have another boy, oh my gosh. You did so so good baby, I'm so proud of you. He's perfect" he leans down to kiss you on the cheek

"It's a healthy baby boy, dad would you mind walking here to cut the cord"

While the doctor finishes surgery, Mark stands on the side with baby boy. They hand him the little bundle of joy after checking everything, "You can hold him while we wait for mom, then we can stay in the recovery room then someone will come and check again on baby and mommy. When we get the clearance, you can go back to your room" the nurse explains

The baby in Mark's arm fusses but Mark expertly hushes and rocks him, his son immediately finding comfort in his father's arm

"You're an expert" the nurse compliments him

"We got two more at home" he proudly says

A few hours passed before you got the okay signal to go back to your room. The baby is currently sleeping in his crib while you get some rest. You didn't expect to feel this tired after surgery but you feel so drained

Mark went outside to get some food for you and him, you weren't really asleep you were just resting your eyes when you heard the door open and close

"Oh shit, you're asleep" you hear your husband mumble

"Language, there's a baby there" you tell him, opening your eyes only to see him holding a big bouquet of flowers

"Happy Mother's Day, my love" he walks towards you, putting the flowers down somewhere safe before handing you a paperbag

"What's this?"

"Your mother's day gift and push present"

"I thought that was my push present" you point your lips at the sleeping baby

Mark chuckles, urging you to open the bag. You carefully do so, feeling a velvet box inside "Minhyung, what is this?"

"Open it" he smiles at you, he watches you flip the box open. Inside is a ring somewhen similar to your engagement ring with a few details different

"Mark Lee, you did not. This is-" "You deserve it, baby. Plus we've always talked about giving your rings to your son someday and since we have two sons now I thought you will need another ring"

"Did you really buy this and hope for a boy?" you joked

"Nah, I have a back up just in case"

"I can't believe it, we have two boys. I know Minjung will be so excited, but Minjee will be elated to know she's still the only princess"

Mark chuckles at that, seating gently by your side while the two of you watch your newborn son.

"He got your nose, it's so cute" he mumbles "Got your cheeks though, just like Minjung and Jee, I hope he got your eyes too. I love your eyes" you tell him, resting your head on his shoulder

"You tired? go get some rest, baby. I'll take care of him, let me know too if you're feeling anything okay?" he tells you, helping you settle on the bed

"Mark, I love you"

He looks down at you, getting cozy on the bed with your drowsy but beautiful eyes he loves so much. "I love you more, baby. I'm so proud of you, you superwoman"

"Couldn't have done it without you"

"You would've have, you could but you don't have to. As long as I'm here you don't have to do anything by yourself. I know you're the strongest and bravest woman, and I'm in awe of you everyday. But in this lifetime, you got me always" he leans down, giving you sweet kiss.

"Oh and I thought of a name for him"

"Do tell, my lady" he indulges you. You actually named all of your kids, ofcourse you tell him first to make sure you both like it. But he leaves it up to you, his reason being the kids will get his surname anyways so he lets you think of their names, Minjung and Minjee.

"Minsu, I read somewhere it means gentle. Minjung, Minjee and Minsu" you smile at your kids' name

"Minjung, Minjee and Minsu Lee. I love it"

"Really?"

"Mhm, you got four Min's now" he smiles

"Is it too obvious I love you so much?"

"Nah, I think the three kids is kinda telling I love you more. Who knows, we'll have a fourth one" he jokes

"Lee Minhyung!"

#fic #nct #nct mark #nct reco #nct fic #nct dream #nct 127 #mark lee #nct imagine #nct scenario #nct au #nct fluff #nct dad #mark lee fluff #mark au #mark lee scenario #mark lee imagine #mark lee au #mark lee dad

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hogwartseighthyear · 6 months ago

Text

wax paper

"your girl" series: part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | (part 4)

(can be read as a standalone)

pairing: neville longbottom x fem!reader word count: 3.7k tags: rated G, house-neutral reader, fluff, established relationship, maybe a smidge of angst, no Y/N used summary: neville introduces you to his parents. note: cue me strolling in like it hasn't been over a year and a half since i last posted a fic. this is based on a request i lost a long time ago for something with neville's family (iirc). i might come back later and give it another edit since this was a bit hasty, but for now, enjoy and thanks for reading! (cross-posted here to AO3)

After spending the last several years living through an outright war, the months immediately following Voldemort’s demise were tinged with a sense of unreality.

You mourned for the lives lost and the destruction that had been wrought. You slept fitfully and replayed the worst moments of the Battle in your nightmares. Sudden, loud noises sent you diving to the ground with your wand in hand, reminding you of crackling spellfire, flashes of green light hurtling overhead, smoke in the air and screams ringing in your ears.

Yet, for every moment of grief and pain, there was hope and happiness in equal measure. Wizarding Britain was gradually reassembling. The Ministry was being gutted from the inside out, Aurors were hunting down wayward Death Eaters, repairs were underway at Hogwarts. For the first time in a long time, the future didn’t look so bleak.

And somehow, in the midst of it all, you’d started dating Neville Longbottom.

You’d both confessed your feelings just after the Battle had finished, when you and Neville finally managed to escape the cacophony of noise and emotion in the Great Hall and retreat to the quiet shores of the lake. The two of you were still singed and bloodied and covered in dirt, but it hadn’t mattered in the slightest. When you finally kissed him, it felt like coming home.

It was difficult to separate you and Neville that following summer. In all honesty, the amount of time you were spending together might have been excessive, if not bordering on codependent, but considering the hell you had just endured, neither of your families voiced any complaints. May, June, and July passed in a languid procession of warm afternoons in the back garden and hours of general lazing about around each other’s homes as you recuperated from, well, your whole adolescence.

You and Neville had already accepted Professor McGonagall’s offer to return to Hogwarts to properly complete your education, and while you were looking forward to it, you knew that it wouldn’t be easy. So, you greatly appreciated the chance to take a break from life before the fall term rolled around.

One day in early August, you were doing just that, lounging on the couch and reading a particularly interesting chapter in Dragon Species of Ancient Mesopotamia, when the fireplace whooshed with a burst of green flames. To your surprise, it was Neville who stepped through the Floo into your living room.

In a rare turn of events, you and Neville didn’t actually have plans to see each other until tomorrow. Today, he, Ginny, and Luna were scheduled to meet in Diagon Alley for an interview with Farida Wolff of the Daily Prophet, who was interested in writing an article on the student rebellion the three of them led during the Death Eaters’ rule over Hogwarts. Afterwards, Neville was planning on paying his parents a visit at St. Mungo’s; fetching money from his Gringotts vault; getting fitted at Madam Malkin’s for new robes; picking up treats for Seymour, the Longbottom family owl, at Eeylops Owl Emporium; then joining his gran in the evening for a belated birthday dinner with his great-uncle Algie and great-aunt Enid.

A glance at the clock told you that while Neville’s interview must have just wrapped up, he definitely hadn’t had time to finish the rest of his errands in downtown London already. There was no reason for him to stop by your place. And yet here he was, wearing a rather nervous expression.

“Hey. Is everything okay?” you asked, sitting upright, a worried frown quickly overtaking your face.

“Hi. Um. Yes,” Neville said haltingly.

“Are you sure?” you asked. “Did something happen during the interview?”

“No, no, the interview was fine.”

You waited for further explanation, but he remained silent.

“Neville?”

He dithered for a few more moments before taking a deep, steadying breath and finally looking at you.

“I was just about to go see my parents,” he said, standing a bit straighter, “and… I was wondering if… you’d like to come meet them?”

Your eyes widened. “Really?”

“Yes, really,” Neville said, this time with more conviction. “I know they don’t really— They can’t exactly, you know—” He cut himself off, his mouth twisting. “But. I’ve already told them about us, and it would mean a lot to me.”

“Okay,” you said, unable to keep the slight tremor out of your voice. “I’ll come. Of course I’ll come.”

Meeting your boyfriend’s parents for the first time was nerve-racking on principle, but meeting Neville’s parents was especially so, considering how fiercely guarded he was when it came to them.

He’d told you what happened to his mum and dad during the First War, but it had always been a sensitive topic. You remembered how agitated he’d been when his friends ran into them at St. Mungo’s a few Christmases ago. Neville was protective of his parents; he didn’t want anyone witnessing them in their vulnerable state. And yet here he was, asking you to meet them.

No pressure, right?

You smoothed your hands over your lap and looked down at your outfit: the soft, comfortable one you’d been lounging around in all day while you read. “Oh! I should change before we go. And fix my hair. Shit, wait, give me a few minutes,” you babbled as you stood from the couch, anxiety already churning in your stomach, but Neville caught you before you could rush past him.

“Love, you look fine,” he said.

“I look like I just rolled out of bed!”

You were too busy fretting over your appearance to notice the way Neville rolled his eyes, though his expression was still unmistakably fond. You refocused only when he put his hands on your shoulders and turned you to face him.

“You’re beautiful, I promise, but”—he stressed the word when you went to open your mouth again—“if it makes you feel better, I was going to suggest we Disillusion ourselves anyway.”

It took you a moment to catch on to his reasoning. “Oh,” you said with a sympathetic wince. “How bad was it this time?”

“At least ten different people asked for my autograph.” Neville kept his voice low, as if he were saying something scandalous. “I tried telling everyone I didn’t have a quill, but then some of them conjured quills for me, so I just signed what they asked. I felt like the world’s biggest prat!”

Fame was something Neville was still struggling to get used to. He’d been largely shielded from it these past few months, considering that the two of you had been living like hermits. But on the rare occasion he happened to wander out into public, there was almost always someone who recognized the Boy Who Killed Voldemort’s Snake.

“We’ll have to brainstorm some new excuses,” you said with a resolute nod.

Really, you should have remembered that magic exists when you came up with the quill idea, but to be fair, it was better than Neville’s plan to claim that he was sick with the highly-contagious doxy flu anytime a stranger tried to approach him.

After putting on a pair of shoes and casting your respective Disillusionment Charms, you followed Neville through the fireplace, Flooing directly into St. Mungo’s reception area.

The chaos inside momentarily stopped you in your tracks. You’d never had a reason to visit St. Mungo’s before, and you couldn’t help but gawk at the various witches and wizards gathered in the large waiting room. One man swaying unsteadily in line appeared to have his legs spelled on backwards. A woman whose entire body was covered in green boils napped in a nearby chair. There was even a man seated against the opposite wall with a continuous stream of soap bubbles pouring from his ears and floating up to the ceiling.

Neville, of course, didn’t seem to be phased by any of it. He’d surely grown used to such sights after visiting for so many years.

“This way,” he said, taking your hand and leading you through the double doors past the inquiries desk. He took out his wand to remove the Disillusionment Charm only once you’d reached a quiet stairwell.

“That felt a bit… unauthorized,” you said, patting nervously at your hair and hoping you were still presentable. “Will we get in trouble if someone finds out we haven’t, I don’t know, signed in anywhere?”

“No, they keep track of everyone who passes through the Floo. Whoever’s currently attending mum and dad probably already knows we’re on our way. Although”—Neville sent you an apologetic look—“they’re on the fourth floor.”

The last time you climbed four flights of stairs at once was during the Battle of Hogwarts, caught in a panicked crowd of students rushing through the castle and ducking spellfire. The months since then had been, for the most part, very slow-paced and sedentary. Your legs were not going to like this.

“Right. Well.” You straightened and took in a big breath. “Up we go.”

You and Neville were both huffing and puffing slightly by the time you reached the fourth floor. In the brief pause the two of you took to catch your breath, you made a mental note to find a magical solution to make climbing stairs more tolerable. Some sort of numbing charm below the knees? No, tripping would be entirely too easy. A Feather-Light Charm? Possibly, though if you cast it too strongly you might be liable to launch yourself over the whole staircase and into the wall.

Whatever. You’d figure it out later.

You followed Neville along the Spell Damage corridor, straight to a door at the far end, which happened to be the entrance to the Janus Thickey Ward. He knocked, and a few moments later a lock clicked from the other side and a middle-aged witch in green Healer robes answered.

“Neville, dear!” she greeted, reaching up to give his cheek a fond little pinch.

“Hello, Miriam,” Neville said, enduring her fawning. You had to hold back a laugh.

“I’ll say, it was such a wonderful surprise to see you were stopping by. And with company, no less.” Miriam turned her twinkling eyes towards you.

You introduced yourself, giving her hand a polite shake. “I’m Neville’s—” You paused, not sure how you should label your relationship in front of Miriam. The fact that you and Neville had started dating was something only your immediate families knew, so far.

You cast a questioning look at Neville. He nodded at you, a small smile curving his mouth.

“—girlfriend,” you finished.

All your other current anxieties aside, saying it out loud still made you feel embarrassingly giddy.

“Girlfriend!” Miriam exclaimed, beaming at you and Neville. “Oh, isn’t that just delightful! I’m Miriam Strout; I’m so pleased to meet you, darling. Come in, come in.” Healer Strout ushered the two of you through the doorway.

The Janus Thickey Ward was a long, open room with a number of beds lining the walls, each sectioned off by a set of floral-patterned curtains. Despite the somewhat sterile feel of the tiled floors and the off-white walls, the residents here were long term, and the collection of personal effects made the room a bit friendlier: things like knitted blankets, family photos, stacks of books, house slippers. You could even recognize a song by the Forty Phantoms playing on a radio somewhere nearby.

“Your father’s been a bit sleepy this morning, Neville, but he and the missus were both awake the last time I checked. I’m sure they’ll both be happy to see you,” Healer Strout said, locking the entrance once again with a wave of her wand. “Are either of you thirsty? We have a new elf in the kitchens that makes the most excellent cup of masala chai.”

“That’s alright, Miriam. We’ve got it from here,” Neville said.

“Thank you, though,” you added on.

“Of course, just tell me if you need anything.” And with that, Healer Strout stepped away to tend to a nearby patient who was standing on top of his mattress, stretching to pin a photo to the wall amidst an already-excessive number of portraits. All of which appeared to be self portraits.

He looked awfully familiar, in fact.

Wait. That wasn’t…?

“Gilderoy, you silly man, what have I told you about climbing up there?” Healer Strout called out fondly. “Falling down and bumping your head is the last thing you need!”

You whipped around to look at Neville. “Lockhart?” you whispered.

He nodded with a grimace. “Don’t make eye contact, he’ll take it as an invitation to show you his fan mail collection.”

The two of you hurried away.

Neville lost a bit of his steam as you neared the end of the ward, slowing his steps and running a nervous hand through his hair. You were nervous too, but you still made the effort to send him a supportive smile. He returned it, a bit wobbly, but there nonetheless.

And then before you knew it, you were standing in front of the floral curtain drawn around the very last two beds. “Mum? Dad?” Neville said. He grabbed the edge and pulled it open.

You’d seen photos of Alice and Frank Longbottom from their Auror days; Neville’s gran had several hanging proudly in her home. You’d always been struck by Neville’s likeness to his mother. Sure, he’d ended up with his father’s height and smile, but the rest belonged to Alice: his coloring, his round cheeks, his gentle eyes.

Now, though, it was evident that the life and verve you’d seen in those photos had been drained from Neville’s parents over the years. The familial resemblance was much more difficult to pick out in their current state.

Frank was propped up in his hospital bed with a heavy quilt draped over his lap, donning a thick, knitted jumper despite the warm weather. He gazed vacantly out the nearest window, which had been spelled to show a pleasant view of the English countryside. Meanwhile, Alice was sat in an armchair between the two beds, wearing a pink cardigan over her nightdress and fiddling with something small and papery in her hands.

They were both gaunt and pale as a sheet. Their hair had turned white, and their skin had creased and wrinkled, aging them far beyond their years. Neither Frank nor Alice reacted to their son’s arrival, and you had to wonder if they even realized anyone was there at all.

“Hi guys,” Neville said quietly, stepping forward and sitting himself on edge of his mother’s bed.

It took you a moment, but you eventually managed to unstick your feet from the floor, making sure to close the curtain behind you before taking a seat next to Neville.

He cleared his throat and continued. “It’s Tuesday, August 4th, 1998. I turned eighteen last week. Sorry I didn’t stop by sooner for my birthday, but I wanted to bring someone along this time.” Neville introduced you then, telling his parents your name.

“Hello Mr. and Mrs. Longbottom,” you said, your hands clasped tightly in your lap.

Again, they showed no reaction. Not that you thought you would get one out of them. You just weren’t used to it yet: speaking to someone so unresponsive.

Neville, however, was clearly well practiced in these one-sided conversations with his parents. “I know you’ve, erm, heard quite a lot about her,” he continued, casting a somewhat sheepish glance your way. “I just figured you should finally meet each other, now that we’re together. Though, really, I should’ve— I should’ve brought her ‘round a long time ago. She survived meeting Gran when we were twelve, after all.”

You huffed a laugh, remembering how terrifying the formidable Augusta Longbottom had seemed back then, nearly making you sick with nerves when faced with her hard, assessing eyes and stern tone. Neville had to assure you multiple times that his gran didn’t hate you the way you feared she might. In fact, after taking some time to warm up to you, she actually grew to be quite fond of you, often asking after you in her letters while Neville was away at Hogwarts.

You’d always remained quietly cautious of her, knowing how easily and often her sharp words could cut through Neville. There was no doubt Augusta loved him, surely, but that didn’t mean her standards for her grandson weren’t high, or that the comparisons she made between him and his father weren’t harsh. It was only over the course of the last year that Neville had finally gained his gran’s approval, and some of the bumps in their relationship seemed to have smoothed over.

“It wasn’t so bad. We get along pretty well these days, I think,” you said, looking to Frank as you spoke of his mother.

You weren’t expecting to find anything other than Frank’s blank stare still fixed on the window, unmoving, save for the slow rise and fall of his chest—which is why it was so startling when he sat forward and rose to his feet with a quiet grunt. You straightened your posture, briefly thinking he was going to approach you, but Frank’s eyes skipped over you and Neville completely as he shuffled past his bed.

Neville followed suit and stood. “Dad?”

“Is he okay?” you asked with a concerned frown.

“Yes, uh, he’s probably just headed to the washroom,” Neville said, already trailing after his father. “I’ll walk him there. We’ll be right back.”

They both passed through the curtain, where you heard Healer Strout call out, “You boys alright?”

“All good, Miriam, I’ve got him!”

That left you alone with Alice.

You floundered, unsure how to fill the silence between you, punctuated only by the crinkling of whatever Alice was still turning over in her hands. You tried to think of what a mother might like to speak about with her son’s girlfriend upon their first meeting, but you didn’t exactly have a frame of reference for this sort of thing. The only common ground you could find with her on short notice was, well, Neville.

“Neville is really good at Herbology,” you blurted. Then, sheepishly, “…You probably already know that, though.”

Great start.

“It’s what most people know about him. I mean, people who actually knew him before the Battle.” You realized a moment too late that the reminder that her son lived through the horrors of war might not be well received by Alice—assuming there was a chance she could understand you, even if she couldn’t respond—and you quickly moved on. “I struggled with it more the further along in school we got. I’m pretty sure the only reason I managed to pass my Herbology O.W.L. was because of Neville. He made this for me while we were revising that year, see?”

You reached underneath the collar of your shirt and pulled out the necklace that hung there more often than not. The pendant was a petal Neville had plucked from the flutterby bush the two of you had spent time tending to in one of the greenhouses. With the right combination of charms—and some help from Hermione, he’d later admitted—the petal had been hardened and polished, as though encased in glass.

You remembered how the urge to grab his face and kiss him had swooped through you when Neville presented you with the gift after your exams, and you remembered how little that urge had surprised you, even then.

“The fact that we only recently started dating feels rather ridiculous now, looking back on everything,” you muttered, rubbing your finger across the smooth edge of the petal as you peered down at it. “I can’t even pinpoint when I started… fancying Neville. I suppose I’ve always loved him in one way or another.”

You looked up to Alice, feeling somewhat shy and hot in the face after sharing something so honest, and found that her own gaze had risen to settle on your necklace. You stilled your hand and held it out for her to see. She stared for a long moment before returning to her fidgeting. Except this time, she began twisting something, the crinkling sound getting louder.

You leaned forward for a better look at what Alice held in her hands. It was a piece of Drooble’s Best Blowing Gum, you realized. The was a whole dish of it sitting on the nightstand behind her.

She unwrapped the gum and placed it in her mouth, then held out the wrapper for you.

“Oh… alright,” you said, taking the wrapper. Did she want you to toss it for her? There was a small bin tucked next to the nightstand, but it was clearly within her reach. Uncertain what to do, you smoothed out the waxy piece of paper into a neat little rectangle, idly admiring the gold foil around the edges.

It wasn’t much longer before Neville and his father returned. Once Frank was situated in bed, Neville returned to his seat by your side, smiling at both you and his mother. However, he froze when he caught sight of the Drooble’s wrapper in your hand.

“Neville? Are you alright?” you asked.

“Is that—? Did she give that to you?” His wide eyes darted back to Alice, whose jaw was working as she chewed on her gum.

“Yes. Was she not supposed to? I can throw it away—”

“No!” Neville’s outburst made you pause from where you’d risen to your feet, and he grimaced at himself, urging you to sit back down with a gentle hand on your arm. “No, no, sorry. It’s fine.”

“Well, if you’re certain.”

“I am.” He hesitates for a moment. “She’s… giving you a gift. It’s all she has to give, really. But it’s for you.”

You looked over at Neville in surprise, emotion suddenly twisting inside your chest. You could see some of it reflected in his face, the crinkle of his eyes, the slope of his mouth. A face you loved so dearly, made of the two people sitting across from you.

You swallowed a bit roughly and held onto the wrapper with care. “Thank you, Mrs. Longbottom.”

Neville pulled you into his side and laid a kiss on your temple.

#neville longbottom x reader #neville longbottom x you #neville x reader #neville x you #neville longbottom #neville longbottom fic #my writing

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