#also forgive me if it takes a long time for me to reply to any messages or asks about obx

[lillaydee]

Naiveté - "911, What's Your Emergency?"

Joel Miller (AU) / F Reader

A frantic call to 911.

Inspired by @jolapeno's epistolary dear-uary challenge.

WARNINGS: Angst, Joel is Bad at Feelings (The Last of Us), Joel is a Fucking Idiot. Joel is a Clueless Idiot

Divider by the fabulous @saradika

@kirsteng42

WORD COUNT: 3510

MASTER LIST

2. My Pompous Sister-Cousin Ruined My Life

***I am not a doctor or anyone who works in emergency services or healthcare. Also, there might be some exaggeration to Lynn's status as a doctor. Please take any inaccuracies with a ladle of salt***

You sipped the God-knows-how-many-th cup of coffee you’ve had for the day, rubbing your neck while you were at it. The couch in your office, while extremely comfy to sit on, wasn’t exactly comfy for long-term sleeping, but you just couldn’t go home.

Eric told you Nell was still living there. She was still using your food delivery account, buying herself the fanciest meals she could get delivered, if the account history and charges were to be believed. Her car must’ve run out of gas if she hadn’t gone out at all, living the life in your perfectly decorated guest room and it’s 16-inches orthopaedic king sized mattress and 10,000 count sheets. Your bills were on autopay, so you could just see her lounging around your house doing nothing, watching all the shows available that you yourself never had the time to watch and using the wi-fi you paid for.

You, on the other hand, sulked like a spineless child and ate cafeteria food, slept and showered in your office, watching whatever soap of the day the other doctors insisted on watching in the lounge.

It’s your own fault. You shouldn’t have left, it was your house after all. But you knew if you had asked her to leave, drama would follow. And it’s your birthday. And you were supposed to celebrate it with Joel. You were looking forward to this. But of course, the words ‘other people’ did not exist in Nell’s list of vocabulary. She would just turn this whole thing around and play victim. You’ve known her all your life. You knew.

You just couldn’t anymore. Joel begged you to stay, stormed into your house after you decided to just leave. You couldn’t stay. You would kill that bitch and make it look like an accident. The smug look on her face as she turned to see your devastated one was too much. So much that even Joel’s pleas couldn’t soothe you. He was explaining everything even as you were packing, telling you she kissed him, that he didn’t kiss her back, heard the contents of the email you sent in to Aunt Prue, that he’s in love with you, only you, it’d always been you, he’s sorry he didn’t have the balls to tell you, but he had never been interested in Nell, only you. You were the only one in his mind. He was weak, he didn’t know how to say no when Nell asked for his help, when Nell asked for his company. He didn’t think she was going after him, he thought she just needed a shoulder to cry on, what with her divorce and all. “Please, Lynn, forgive me. I’m sorry, please don’t leave like this. Let’s talk, let’s go out to dinner. It’s your birthday, please, I’m begging you, please don’t go.”

You stayed calm, got your suitcase and left. Joel followed you all the way to your car, hung on to your door and kept on pleading. You only managed to shut the door when you finally told him you needed some space. Please give it to you. That’s all you asked for. He released your door then, looking defeated, nodding slowly, asking you if he could text you, just so you know he’ll never stop trying? You don’t have to reply, he said, he just needed you to know how he felt. Please?

You nodded and shut the door. You went to the hospital and hadn’t been home in three weeks.

Joel texted you every day.

Joel: ‘Good morning. Have a great day. Please take good care of yourself today.’

Joel: ‘Had lunch at the place you liked today, thinking of you.’

Joel: ‘Good night. I hope you get some rest.’

Joel: ‘Sarah made the French Toast you taught her. Reminded me of you.’

Mundane, sweet texts. You didn’t reply, but each and every one of his texts made you smile.

Sarah’s texts, on the other hand, left you no doubt that she was Team Lynn. You did reply to her but still refused to tell her where you were staying and went silent when she probed. Other than that, she’s basically Nell Watch, with the occasional Sarah question.  

SareBear: ‘That woman tried to ask me to come over for a movie. I said no. Then she asked Dad if he wants to go for a walk. Dad found his spine and shut the door in her face. So proud of him!’

SareBear: ‘Lynn, what’s an Omphalocele? I googled but they might as well have explained it in Chinese. Help!’

SareBear: ‘I made French Toast today, used your recipe. Dad ate it and cried.’

SareBear: ‘You should change your password to that app – she just ordered steak.’

SareBear: ‘She just sat in front of our house for hours waiting for Dad to come home. Turned on the waterworks when he got here. He came inside and shut the door. She stayed there until midnight. God I hope she didn’t pee herself on our porch. I don’t want to scrub that.’

SareBear: ‘OMG she just posted on that Dot site. She completely changed the story. Imma call her out.’

SareBear: ‘People are bashing her. This is a good day.’

SareBear: ‘Lynn, people I’ve never met are asking for Dad’s phone number. You should come back soon before I cave and give it to them.’

You laughed out loud at that last one.

SareBear: ‘Hey Lynn, will you come to dinner with us tonight? Uncle Tommy and Aunt Maria are in town. Dad is taking a long weekend, we’re getting him cake. Aunt Maria and I are going to have a girls day Saturday, will you join us, please?’

You wanted to say yes. You so badly wanted to say yes.

You missed her. You missed him. You missed them together. But there were demons in your head fighting each other. One told you to go home and kick Nell out. The other though… that one, in your opinion the eviller of the two, reminded you of the times she hugged you as you slept when you missed your parents those first few weeks you moved in with her. The time you two made camp under the blanket, telling each other scary stories and snuggled together so the ghosts couldn’t get to you. The time both of you slept under the bed because you were terrified of thunderstorms. The time she pushed your bullies back, defended you from the mean kids at school. Before she started secretly hating you.

And of course, there was the fact that her parents were your parents, for all intents and purposes. They were the ones who raised and supported you, cheered you on. The ones who literally blocked their own daughter for the way she treated you and Eric. Nell didn’t even tell them she filed for divorce. And you, being the usual ‘not wanting her to get in trouble’ type, never told them. Eric did, apparently, and now she’s in the doghouse with almost everyone in her life. She had nothing, and you didn’t have the heart to turn her away. Or maybe, you were just that naïve. Even after all these years.

You wanted to go back to Joel. He told you he was in love with you. What you wouldn’t do to tell him you loved him too, but Nell was still around. You didn’t even want to think of what she was willing to do if you and Joel actually got together now.

So instead of replying to Sarah, you texted Joel.

You: ‘Happy 36th neighbour. Hope you have a great one today.’

Your phone pinged less than a minute later.

Joel: ‘I miss you.’

You stared at those three words, your eyes prickling with tears, as the three dots kept dotting underneath it.

Joel: ‘Sorry, I know I agreed to give you space. But I couldn’t keep it in anymore. I had to tell you. I can’t wait for you to come home. I miss seeing you laugh, hearing your voice, seeing your face, the way you scrunch your face when you ignore the movie to pick the popcorns with the most caramel on it, the way you save the pickles off your burger for last, the way you separate the M&Ms by colour… I miss that, even if it means I have to wait ages to have an M&M, but I miss everything about you. I miss you. Please come back soon.’

You read that message over and over and over. Fuck, you missed him. You wanted to go home. How can you get Nell out? Maybe you can ask Head Nurse Marcy. Her husband was a cop. Maybe you could arrange something? You lost track of how long you sat there, just reading that text over and over, desperately missing him too.

The phone beeped, the pager beep. The one you set for the hospital. You immediately clicked on it.

‘Incoming. ER. 15F. PAT. AmbBay 2’

You got on your feet and ran towards the ER. 15 year old girl. Penetrating abdominal trauma. God, she’s Sarah’s age. No matter how long you’ve been doing this job, children getting injured from such incidents never failed to shock you. Who would stab children?

The nurses gowned and gloved you, and you waited with the trauma team at Ambulance Bay 2, the siren already coming in fast. You were front and centre when the door opened.

And a frantic, teary Joel greeted you, but he didn’t see you. He didn’t see anyone but the patient whose hand he was holding. Your eyes went straight to the gurney and your heart dropped to your feet.

Sarah.

You had never reacted faster in your life. Anything outside of Sarah was a blur to you. You worked with the other doctors and nurses, stabilizing her, only realizing Joel was standing alone outside the trauma room when she was being wheeled out to the OT. He looked like a lost boy, a lone figure in a busy ER, covered in his daughter’s blood, his eyes glassy as if he was in a trance.

This was no time for soft hearts and yearning.

“Joel!” you called him, speaking as loud as you can without screaming. His eyes immediately snapped towards you, looking as if he had just realized you had been there the whole time. You beckoned him with your head, telling the nurses he’s with you. His feet immediately followed, a sliver of hope filling his eyes. You updated him of Sarah’s condition as best as you could, telling him she needed surgery, and that someone will update him every hour. He could only nod, words failed him, only able to tell Sarah he will be right there waiting for her.

“Lynn,” he said, his voice soft, pleading.

You looked at him.

“Take care of my little girl. Bring her back to me. Please,” the last word whispered.

You wanted so much to hug him, give him assurance. But you knew you shouldn’t. So you turned away from him and told your intern to call your assistant to help him get a change of clothes and something to eat before going in to prepare for the surgery.

Joel sat in the waiting room with his head in his hands. The whole evening had been surreal. He had gotten home early, picked up Tommy and Maria from the airport, the couple insisting they fly in for his birthday, they were going to dinner that evening, maybe have a cookout that weekend if the weather was not too cold, Maria and Sarah excited to spend some girlie time together. Sarah had been wondering out loud if you might join them, seeing as it was his birthday, maybe you would come back today? He wanted to kick himself, thinking about how you might have been there to celebrate his birthday with him for the first time as his girlfriend had he not been too stupid to see how manipulative Nell was.

He had screamed at her that evening. He couldn’t believe the gall of that woman. He couldn’t get the smug look she had on her face out of his head – she had literally sneered at you as you backed out of your driveway, sidling up to him as he walked back to his front door, ready to receive an earful from a very shocked Sarah who was standing helplessly in front of it. Nell dared wrap her arm around his, and he lost it on her. His chest hurt from screaming so much, his throat raw, telling Nell there was no way in hell or any such universe he would ever consider being with her. Her face went chalk white, devoid of any blood, before it went beet red just as quickly, asking him why he wanted you so badly? What was it that you had that she didn’t. What was so special about you? You were nowhere near as attractive as she was.

Nell was fuming, thinking about all those men she thought she had won over – none of them wanted to stay with her, losing interest the moment sex was over. That was all she did really, offered them sex. You didn’t, the prude that you were. You believed in that stupid connection thing. As if. Men are not that complicated. Offer them sex and they will cave. There was no way any of them would have really gone for you, right? You didn’t stand a chance. And yet, here Joel stood, red in the face, telling her to stay away from him.

“Because, Nell, on your best day, you are not even a tenth of the woman that she is.”

He went inside and threw himself onto his couch, rubbing his face, his heart beating uncomfortably fast. He opened his eyes when he heard the door click shut. Sarah was standing over him, arms crossed, looking impressed.

“Wow,” she said, “You can stand up for yourself.” She sat down next to him, snuggling him. “You okay, Dad?”

He hugged her with all his might, nodding, feeling as if he had let her down. The teenager took it upon herself to cheer him up, and made him some boxed mac and cheese, chewing with her mouth open to make him laugh. She even watched some kung fu movie he had always wanted to watch, falling asleep somewhere near the 15 minutes mark.

He didn’t know what he had done in his past life to deserve a daughter like her. Somehow, he managed to breeze by these 15 years pretending to be a parent, when really, it was her who had been taking care of him. She told him that Nell posted on some online forum, telling people that she and him were a secret couple, painting you as the baddie who had always taken everything from her. She had been googling silly medical stuff to ask you about, just so you would reply to her, and then reading them to him, just so he could have a piece of something that was from you, just so that he could smile. She read your witty replies, making him laugh, sleeping easier that night simply from the thought that he heard a joke from you that day. She made him that French Toast you taught her to make, going so far as using the spare key to your place to steal some of that good vanilla you used whenever you made them.

He burst into tears upon taking the first bite, missing you so much, regretting his naivety so much he couldn’t breathe. And what did his little girl do? She sat with him and cut the toast into small pieces, feeding them to him, telling him they won’t taste as good when they went cold.

He had just finished a load of laundry when he received the birthday text from you, his heart soaring. He couldn’t help himself. He texted you back, his fingers shockingly efficient, telling you how much he missed you. He had just clicked ‘send’ when he heard raised voices outside.

Sarah had been getting into gardening lately and was trying to do as much of it while the weather was still alright. He peeked through the window to see Nell shouting at her, something about a comment she made on her post, how Sarah had openly humiliated her, blaming her for the fact that she had been cut off from everyone. Sarah wouldn’t back down, and Joel could see Nell was getting more and more agitated. Joel turned to put a shirt on when he heard a scuffle, immediately yelling for Tommy to come downstairs. By the time he got to Sarah, his BabyGirl was already down, blood blooming on her shirt, the three pronged thing next to her, covered in blood. Nell was gunning it down the street, Tommy chasing her, along with some neighbours who saw the whole thing take place. Joel immediately dialled 911, falling down on his knees trying to calm his daughter down, his heart beating in his mouth.

The minutes crawled by. Tommy and Maria arrived not long after she was wheeled into surgery, bringing him his clothes and whatever would help from home. Your assistant, a sweet young man called Tony brought him food, making sure he was alright, even waited for news from you with him, sitting at one corner of the room with his iPad, managing your schedule, not that he could eat right now. His insides were churning, his eyes leaking. Your young intern, the one who brought him to your private office so he could shower and change, had been coming to him every hour with updates, telling him how Sarah was doing, not that it was helping. All he longed for was to see you come out with a smile on your face, telling him that his BabyGirl was going to be alright, that he didn’t have to arrange for a… that Sarah, his BabyGirl, was alive, and would stay alive. Please.

He told the cops what he knew, Tommy filling in every now and again. His head wasn’t working. He couldn’t concentrate. Sarah. She was all he could think about.

About six hours in, Tommy and Maria suddenly stood up, as did Tony, placing his iPad on the coffee table in front of him. Joel found himself frozen as he watched a tired looking you stand just outside of the double glass doors, talking to another doctor, looking at something on the tablet he was holding. He couldn’t stand up. His mind was trying to decipher your expressions, were you sad? Happy? Nonchalant? What?

His heart almost stopped when he saw a frown on your face as you talked to the doctor, looking worried as you explained something to him. It stopped completely when the doctor’s hopeful expression turned dour, slowly nodding, as you patted him on his arm and walked inside, that same sad expression on your face. Your eyes went immediately to Tony’s, who looked rather sad now, too.

Oh God. No. No. No.

You took a deep breath, and turned to him, looking straight into his eyes.

You smiled.

Joel burst into tears, his shoulders heaving from his sobs, relieved to see that smile. You immediately went to him, kneeling in front of him, hugging him so tightly, whispering to him.

“Surgery went well, she’s still in recovery, but she’s responding very well. Tony’s gonna take you to her room, okay? You’ll be more comfortable there. Barring any complications, she’ll be back home and bossing you around in no time at all.”

Joel’s sobs turned into laughter, nodding his head, loosening the hug a bit to thank you before engulfing you in a bigger, tighter one, thank yous falling from his lips over and over. He didn’t let go all the way until his sobs calmed down.

Tony cleared his throat.

“Joel,” you whispered, as you felt his hug relaxed, but showing no signs of release.

“Hmm?” he answered, somehow managing to do so in a whisper too.

“I just spent 6 hours standing, the kneeling is killing my knees and my back. Can I go back to standing now?”

He laughed, letting you go, standing up and helping you stand. You stretched your back and repeated what you told him to a very confused Maria and Tommy, giving them hugs as well.

“Tony’s gonna take you to her room now, they’ll bring her in soon. I have to go see to another patient, but I will come and check on Sarah in a bit okay?”

Joel watched as you walked out. His heart felt 1000 times lighter. His BabyGirl was going to be alright, she made it through surgery. And he just saw you again and hugged you for so long he felt as if all the essence that left his body as he watched you drive away that night, the rest of which got sucked out as he watched his daughter almost bleed to death today, came whooshing back into his body.

He could breathe again.

Joel woke up in the semi darkened room. You were just about to walk away, having placed a blanket over his body. You stopped when you felt his hand around your wrist.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“What time is it?”

“It’s 4 am.”

“Why aren’t you asleep?”

“I’m on call.”

He sat up, rubbing his eyes, looking up at you. He patted the seat next to him, eyes begging you to sit down.

“How is she doing?”

“We’re very optimistic. All the numbers are where it should be. She’s stable. We just need to watch her for a few days.”

“Thank you for saving her.”

“I’m just one person. A whole team of us was in there.”

“Still, thank you.”

You smiled.

“I miss seeing you smile.”

You took his hand in yours, intending to soothe him. He let you, lacing his fingers with yours.

“I’m sorry I’ve been so dumb. I just didn’t see what she was doing.”

You huffed a small laugh, “No man has.”

He didn’t say anything, regret clear on his features. “She’s still out there.”

“They’ll get her. She’s never been street savvy. She might surrender just because she’s hungry.”

He let out a laugh, forgetting to whisper, before shushing himself. He caressed your hand with his thumb.

“Did you mean what you said?” you warily asked.

“Which of my grovelling these past three weeks are you referring to?”

You giggled, which caused him to giggle, the two of you giddy like high school girls for quite a while before you finally managed to say something.

“That thing you said that night, when I was packing.” You didn’t want to say it. You didn’t want to hope. What if it was just something he said out of desperation? Out of panic?

“That I’m in love with you?”

You nodded, not looking him in the eyes. He lifted your face with his fingers, gentle, subtle. “Look at me, Lynn,” he whispered. He waited until your eyes met his before speaking.

“Yes. I meant every word. I’m in love with you, Dr Ava Lynn Williams, I’ve been in love with you since the moment I saw you.”

You scrunched your face in disgust. “That day you moved in? I hadn’t showered or slept in 36 hours, I must’ve looked like a zombie. Smelled like one too.”

He smiled, “The sexiest, most beautiful zombie in the world. I almost dropped Sarah’s fish. I would’ve been in a lot of trouble had that happened.”

You raised your eyebrows in agreement. He smiled, nodding with you.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

He shrugged, “Look at you. Your office is bigger than my first house. You have little doctors running around doing your bidding, you have a personal assistant, who, by the way, treated my so well today I might as well be the CEO or something. I offhandedly mentioned coffee to Tommy and it was hand delivered to me within minutes.”

You laughed, “I’ll make sure he gets a raise then.”

He smiled, “You’re a kick-ass surgeon. I’m a contractor. Sarah’s Mom left us because I couldn’t give her the fancy life she wanted. I didn’t know if you would even look twice at someone like me.”

He hung his head, playing with your hand.

“Someone like you? Someone kind? Funny? Reliable? A great father? A good friend? A great listener? Which of these great qualities are you referring too? And why would someone like you want someone like me? I’m always working. I’m never home. Although, to be honest, I’m working so much more than I need to be because I don’t like coming home to an empty house.”

It’s your turn to hang your head, playing with his hand.

“They say absence makes the heart grow fonder. This past year, I’ve missed you every time you were not home. I’m in love with you. I’ll wait for you at home every day for the rest of my life, if you give me a chance.”

You were quiet for a beat, the longest beat in the world for him, his ears filled with the beating of his own heart.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

His heart soared. His smiled so widely his ears hurt. He leaned in, taking your chin between his fingers, his eyes closing.

You beeper went off.

‘Code Blue. 1403.’

“I have to go,” you said, jumping up, giving him a quick peck on the cheek before running out, joining the line of running nurses outside Sarah’s room.

“You’re gonna have to get used to that now that you guys are dating,” Sarah’s voice interrupted his high from your acceptance of his love. He jumped up, eager to give his daughter a careful hug.

His world felt complete.

Nell was arrested early the next day. She never left the neighbourhood, apparently, coming back home after spending the night in someone’s garage. She put up quite a fight, causing a racket, screaming that her heart surgeon doctor husband was going to sue the police department and everyone who commented on the post she made. Word was, there were footage of that going around the internet.

She was denied bail and was expected to spend a considerable amount of her life behind bars. As far as you knew, no one went to visit her, save for her parents, who came out disappointed. She spent the entire time they were there blaming them for everything that went wrong in her life.

Sarah went home seven days later, the whole neighbourhood there to welcome her home. You spent the entirety of her hospital stay at the hospital, sending in a cleaning crew to your house after seeing the state Nell left it in after living there without your presence for three weeks. After Sarah was settled in for the night, you helped them clean up and took your leave. Joel walked you home, hands in his pocket as you unlocked your front door with your new set of keys. He leaned in and kissed you on the cheek, the standard practice thus far, seeing as you were literally at work since accepting his proposal at being a couple.

Except this time you were no longer at work.

So you turned your head and captured his lips, earning you a desperate whimper from him, his hands quickly coming up to cup your face. Your lips parted in pleasant surprise, and he took advantage of that, slipping his tongue against yours. Your head was buzzing, your body alight, a helpless moan escaping you as he gently pushed you against your front door, the kiss turning heated in no time.

“It’s okay guys, Uncle Tommy and Aunt Maria’s got me,” Sarah’s voice cheekily broke the silence of the night from her bedroom window.

���Yep, don’t worry brother, I’m going to lock up now,” Tommy answered.

And with that, your hand grabbed blindly behind you, desperately finding the door knob as his kisses travelled from your lips to your jaw, sucking your earlobe, his hands slipping under your shirt to grab your waist, lifting you into his arms as the door opened, carrying you inside, kicking the door closed behind him.

FIN.

[sun-undone]

can we please get in depth podcast episodes on Spotify for season 4?

well i was gonna make a separate post about this but i guess this is as good a place as any to say that i will officially be ending the diver down podcast.

i’d been promising for a long while that i’d get to season 3 and had just recently decided to skip it entirely and cut right to season 4 instead since i enjoyed part 1 so much. but after part 2, it really REALLY fucking sucks, but i think a lot of y’all will understand me when i say that i do not want to participate in meaningful analysis of this show for a very long while (maybe ever again) after the complete disrespect we as fans have been shown by the writers and (some) actors of this show. it hurts so fucking bad and it sounds dramatic but i feel like a safe place has been stolen. we all joked about the pates’ lazy writing and bent over backwards to make their decisions make sense sometimes, but this is a whole other level of bullshit that feels personal. it’s not just the jj stuff either. sarah and pope’s storylines (if you could even call them that) also reeked of some very foul ideologies that the pates seemed to be able to hide well enough in the other seasons but suddenly decided to bring to the forefront in a very disgusting way in 2024 of all fucking years.

i’m just incredibly disappointed and betrayed and angry and while i had a lack of motivation and lukewarm disinterest in deep diving season 3, this is an entirely different level of visceral distaste.

so i will not be making any more podcast episodes about outer banks.

from the bottom of my heart, i’m so very grateful to everyone who have listened and found joy in listening to all of my rants. it means so much that i could be a bright spot in people’s lives, even if it was just for one single hour. this fandom has created so many incredible fucking pieces of art and i feel so lucky to have added a small piece of my own to that. as betrayed as so many of us feel, no one can take away the community we’ve formed and the art we’ve produced. i don’t regret a single second of it because of that.

i’ll probably make a short explanation/goodbye episode but it will likely be very concise and not go into detail about my specific thoughts on what went so very wrong. i hope some of y’all stick around if you’re interested in the other stuff i’m watching/reading cause wow they’re miles better than obx and i will always have rambles to share.

thank you so much again and i’m sorry if this is disappointing to anyone or a piece of even more bad news after an already taxing week ❤️

[vamplvs]

TYPES OF KISSES

characters — bruce wayne, dick grayson, jason todd warnings — lots of fluff, a bit of swearing, and it gets a little suggestive in jason's notes — this is my first time back on tumblr in about a year or two so forgive me for any errors/organizational issues. also for the record i absolutely pictured battinson

BRUCE WAYNE. — trailing kisses

after a gala, bruce is always worn out. it's draining being in front of press and high society—if that's what gotham's equivalent of socialite extravagance can really be called—for hours on end. putting on a pretty smile, dancing around questions regarding the dark shadow looming over gotham's underbelly, and shaking hands with people he couldn't care less about. none of it is remotely interesting, and being trapped there for hours lest he face alfred's wrath is all the more frustrating.

"how was the night, b?" you speak softly as he sulks into your bedroom, his suit jacket long abandoned elsewhere in the manor.

he only hums in response.

"that bad, huh?" you put down your book and got up from the bed, smoothly making your way over to him. as you get closer, you catch the furrow of his brow and the dip of his frown. "c'mon, lets get to bed, yeah?"

"please." it's a quiet reply, low in the back of his throat.

you make quick work of his cufflinks and the buttons of his shirt, and in no time at all, he's in nothing more than a pair of briefs.

"why don't i go with you next time?" you pull him towards the bed, "i mean, i don't mind wrangling the public." in a swift motion, you fall onto the bed.

"i won't ask that of you."

"that's why i'm offering, baby," you smile up at him, motioning for him to lay down next to him. "if it'd ease your nerves, i would be happy to go with you." you press one kiss to his shoulder, then another just above that one until you reach the edge of his jaw.

bruce wraps a warm hand around you, pulling you closer to him, and you simply continue trailing kisses across his jaw, his cheeks, until just before you reach his lips.

"i would do just about anything if it meant making you happy."

"i know," he whispers at you, deep blue eyes staring intently into yours. a careful hand works its way to the back of your neck and pulls you into a kiss.

DICK GRAYSON. — silencing kisses

"ugh, he was just so-" you cut yourself off with a groan, scrubbing harder at the dishes in the sink. "i mean, seriously, who on earth does that?"

dick snickers behind you, a bemused smile dancing across his face.

"the nerve of some people! why would that question even cross your-" there's a clattering of dishes as one slipps out of your hand. "god dammit!"

"hey, c'mon," dick's hands are suddenly around your waist, "why don't we take a break?"

you turn to face him now, frustration painted on every plane of your face. "no, i need to finish the dishes, or they'll just sit-"

"we can finish them tomorrow," he says with an easy smile, and it's hard not to listen to his voice of reason when he looks at you that way. it's all soft eyes flitting across your face from your eyes to your lips.

"i know the way we are," you huff, "they'll never get done."

"i promise i'll help you tomorrow." he squeezes your waist reassuringly, pulling you towards him and away from the already doomed dream of finishing the dishes tonight.

"but you said you had to-"

"nope, i'm helping you with dishes now. that's the plan."

"but you're already behind on-"

he cuts you off with a kiss, slow and gentle. "i can worry about that tomorrow."

"you really shouldn't-"

he cuts you off yet again, a cheeky grin spreading on his face. "i can keep doing this all night if you really want me to."

"dick," you groaned, your head falling onto his shoulder. he only wrapped his arms around you tighter.

"i can tell when you're saying my name and when you're not, y'know," mirth lacing his words, and you can't help but crack a smile. "you're always telling me to take care of myself, so let me do that for you just this once, okay?"

JASON TODD. — breathless kisses

the adrenaline of the night is already starting to wear thin as you rounded a corner into a dark alley, jason trailing after you. laughter is in the air, and for the first time in a long time, a patrol feels like something more than a task to complete.

"careful, red, it looks like you're getting slow!" you call back to him, feet pounding across the pavement as you race forward towards the fire escape of the building ahead of you.

"oh, yeah?" he shouts in return, fighting to keep the smile out of his voice—even through the mask. he pushes himself forward, ignoring the burn in his legs from the exertion of the night. within a moment, he's past you, using a grapple to propel himself to the top of the building.

"that's cheating!" you scale the fire escape as quickly as you can, panting by the time you reach the top. jason is already a rooftop over by the time you get there, and it's a good thing you're faster on foot than he is—even if only just.

he simply laughs, continuing his dash to the safe house only a few blocks away. you manage to catch up to him, heart beating out of your chest as you both run in tandem, leaping over gaps between buildings and trying to trip each other up. it's only once you both run down yet another fire escape leading to the window of your shared apartment that jason pulls forward once and for all, a grin under his mask as he hears you groan behind him.

in one swift movement, he slides the window open and slips inside. once you get inside, jason already has his mask off and there's a smug smirk on his face.

"what was that about me getting slow?" his chest is still heaving.

you can't help but laugh. "only because you cheated!"

"no such thing in gotham, baby." he pulls you forward by the arm, pressing a short kiss to your lips.

you smile at him, rolling your eyes and still breathing heavily. jason's eyes flit between yours and your lips for no longer than a moment before he kisses you again.

between light, breathless kisses, his hands find themselves wrapped around your waist, and before you know it he has you both dropping onto the couch. your legs are spread over his lap, and you pull away for just a second, forehead pressed to his.

"as much as i love the whole body armor look, why don't we take all this off, yeah?" you murmur.

"i like the sound of that."

[crssvjb]

Secrets Revealed - Charles Leclerc

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Sumarry: After a painful breakup, you discover you are pregnant, but keep the secret out of fear and hurt.

The morning started like any other: a ray of sunlight streaming through the window, the distant sound of traffic and the soft rustle of leaves in the wind. But the pregnancy test in her hands changed everything.

Two lines.

You felt your heart race. It wasn't possible. He read the leaflet again, checked the test three more times, but the result did not change. You were pregnant with Charles.

She sat on the bathroom floor, her back against the cold wall. His mind went back to the last moment they had together, weeks ago.

—"You think you're always right!" — You shouted, your voice cracking under the weight of emotions.

Charles ran a hand through his hair, irritated. — "And you think everything has to be your way! I can't deal with this right now."

— "Can't handle this? Maybe you can't handle me, Charles."

The silence that followed was the most painful you had ever experienced. He looked away, hesitating. When he spoke again, his voice was a little cold:

— "Maybe we were never right for each other."

You swallowed hard, the words burning like acid. Without saying anything else, he picked up his things and left, leaving behind not only his home, but also everything they had built together.

The sound of your cell phone vibrating brought you back to the present. You looked at the screen and saw messages from friends. There was a party that night and everyone was excited to go together.

But how could you face Charles now? He would probably be there. And you... you didn't know if you would have the courage to face him with the secret you carried.

The party was in full swing when Charles arrived. Dressed casually, he greeted his friends but seemed a little distracted. Since the breakup, he had tried to convince himself that the separation was better for both of them, but a part of him knew that he had messed up.

- "Hey, Charles." — Pierre caught his attention, holding out a drink. — "How are things with Y/N?"

Charles frowned, uncomfortable with the message of his name. — "I think this is over, Pierre."

Pierre looked a little surprised. — "It's over? But... what about the baby?"

The glass in Charles' hand almost fell. — "What baby?"

Pierre widened his eyes, clearly realizing his mistake. — "Ah, shit... I thought you knew. Sorry, Charles. I wasn't supposed to... forget it."

Charles didn't wait for explanations. Dropping his drink on the first surface he found, he hurriedly left the party, ignoring Pierre's calls.

— "Pierre, you big mouth." — Kika said, slapping her boyfriend's arm.

The knock on the door was unexpected. You opened it and saw Charles panting, his eyes shining with a mix of surprise and nervousness.

— "Why didn't you tell me?" — He asked, almost whispering.

— "Charles, I..."

— "You're pregnant, aren't you?" — He interrupted, his eyes searching yours urgently.

You hesitated, but you knew you couldn't deny it. - "I am."

Charles took a deep breath, clearly trying to process. — "Why didn't you tell me? I had a right to know."

— "And I had the right to be afraid." — You replied with a trembling voice. — "After what you said, how could I trust you again? How could I believe you would stay by my side?"

He looked devastated. — "I was an idiot. I got angry and said things I shouldn't have. But I never wanted to hurt you. And now... now I know that I only made everything worse."

You looked away, tears streaming down your face. — "I don't know if I can forgive so quickly, Charles. I'm hurt and I need time."

He took a step forward, hesitant but determined. — "I understand. And I'll wait as long as it takes. But know that I'm here. For you. For the baby. For us."

His words were sincere, but you knew it wouldn't be easy. The road to rebuilding trust was long. But maybe there was a chance for you. Over time.

⎊𝙘𝙧𝙨𝙨𝙫𝙟𝙗 - ²⁰²⁵

[pixiesndberries]

𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐅𝐔𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃, 𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐍 —

a small series of Jujutsu Kaisen men as your husband !

☆ OUR STARS : Nanami Kento, Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Choso Kamo, Aoi Todo, Toji Fushiguro, and more !

━ REQUESTED BY : none

━⁠ WARNINGS : none

ෆ PIXIE'S NOTE ! : heya pookies I know it's been a while 🙏🏻 but here I am creating another series to pay off the days I wasn't posting so much —⁠ forgive me my pookies 🏃🏻‍♀️💨 we have holiday break so I'm going to grind a lot 😝

NANAMI KENTO, as your husband !

• Nanami is the perfect standard for male wife, argue with the wall —⁠ this man knows how to cook, clean his home, does his own laundry, and mostly basic life skills that most men barely know which is pretty much a big turn on.

Nanami who always supports your decision as long as it doesn't have any bad effects in your life, he respects you a lot to whatever you do in your life —⁠ he thinks that just because you are married it doesn't mean he have full possession on you, though sometimes when you asked for his opinions about your decisions in such situations he isn't shy of what he thinks.

Nanami the type of husband who will always do small and big things for you even though you can do it yourself —⁠ carrying groceries for you, helping you in the kitchen, sending you to your work, helps you clean the house, and goes to the mall with you.

; he surprisingly took the shopping bags form your hands gently "your hands will get numb, this is pretty heavy." he says with his usual tone as he looks at you softly, you can't help but to smile in his small little gestures and gosh it's making her heart melt.

"thank you, kento." you say as you gave him a big smile and pressed a kiss on his cheeks making him grin.

Nanami who is being a worrywart when you don't reply quickly when you're out with your friends late night —⁠

; kento | sent a message.

10:24 pm

kento : just got home love ❤️

kento : what time are you going home?

11:04 pm

kento : love, tell me when you're going home I'll pick you up ❤️

kento : is everything going alright?

kento : kind of worried, hope you respond soon 😅

11:07 pm

kento : please reach out to me when you can so I can pick you up ☺️

kento : I'm worried 😢

you : love I'm fine sorry, we we're drinking just a tiny bit 😭

you : you can pick me up now 🏃🏻‍♀️💨

Nanami the type of husband to use cringe emojis but you appreciate it anyways, he barely use his phone or try to use emojis —⁠ headcanon : he learned using emojis from yuji or gojo 🙏🏻 you find it silly and cute anyways.

Nanami who's phone is always filled with your photos and some sceneries with you in it —⁠ he doesn't like taking photos of himself that much though, he loves taking photos of you and look through it when he's not busy or when he misses you and he's at work.

Nanami when he learned how to use Instagram and he can't stop posting you —⁠ Gojo probably tried influencing him to use social media once and he was like no??? not until one time you took a photo of him during one of your dates and you asked him, "hey can I post this?" and of course he said yes and after that you kept posting him at some times which led him to the idea of posting you as well since he thinks you deserve it too.

; nanami.kento1990

tagged : @y/n.igcom | ❤️

itaaa.yuji and 13 others liked this post.

gojosatoru | he knows how to use Instagram 😦 ???

gojosatoru | WHO TAUGHT YOU ⁉️

itaaa.yuji | first post !!

nobaraaaa | parents 🙏🏻

Nanami who is nervous to talk about the future he wants with you — not totally nervous it's more like when you talked about kids you wanted soon with him he will always be like, "sure I also thought about that." with his usual tone but deep inside talking about it was his hyper fixation and he can't stop thinking about it.

Nanami who never in his life forget about giving you flowers in small or big occasions —⁠

; "happy mother's day." he says softly with a grin in his face as he hands you a bouquet of your favourite flowers, "kento, I'm not a mother yet." you laugh as you take the bouquet from him, admiring the flowers for a second. He never fails to make you feel happy, "maybe soon?" he chuckles then makes his way to give you a hug. "sure." you laughed and happily hugged him back tightly, exchanging I love you.

Nanami who never left by your side especially when you are not okay, he will leave his work for a day or even weeks if you really need him by your side —⁠ he will never get tired of comforting you; if you need a shoulder to cry on? He's there. He can stay all day in bed with you to make you feel better —⁠ take you out in a vacation if that's what you really need or probably do every house chores just to make you rest.

─ REBLOGS, LIKES, AND COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED FEEL FREE TO REQUEST!

[hkthatgffan]

Hey, Kiki-Kit. Your customers are waiting!

Well, this is a painful post to make given the respect and admiration I had for her, but a long overdue one because I'm not alone in this mess and I refuse to let another fan fall for it when I could've said something!

Back in February, I bought a commission from Kiki-Kit. You may know that artist as she was one of the best in the Gravity Falls fandom back in the day and the illustrator of Don't Dimension It in Lost Legends.

She'd been running emergency commissions at the start of the year and I got one from her for $40 USD.

I have the invoice and everything saved and also messages with Kiki of us talking about the comm and me paying her. I owe nothing on my end money wise! I paid in full.

She said later she'd have them finished by around the end of March but come late April, still no response. So, I messaged her about it. Nothing odd I thought. I get things can happen and if Kiki is busy, at most she'd reply telling me it'll be a while longer and all's good.

But I got nothing. I messaged her, emailed her on the commissions email she had and tweeted at her. NOTHING! Turns out there were other people, including some friends of mine who had not heard back either. Then in June, Kiki made an update post explaining the situation.

Naturally I felt bad and wished her the best. She said iirc, she'd have the remaining comms done by the end of the Summer but here we are at the end of October and still nothing. I messaged her too again and no response.

You know, it's one thing if there's a reason for no response for a few days but then another when it's been months and still nothing. Oh and btw, I very much remember Kiki on Twitter liking tweets (back when Twitter let you see liked tweets) while I was there messaging her for an update. Real sus if you ask me.

But okay, I shouldn't rush it. Everyone has reasons to take time and maybe Kiki is just very busy and can't get back. She went through a very rough and difficult experience and I can understand and respect that. I'm more than happy to wait. But how long is too long without an update? Maybe a bit longer I guess. Art takes time.

Well, IDK about you all, but I don't remember any other Gravity Falls fan artist taking oh, idk...FIVE YEARS TO FINISH A COMMISION AND STILL NOT RESPOND!!

FoxieSkullzArtz on Twitter made me aware she has been waiting since 2019 for Kiki to respond to a commission they paid her for.

2019!!

I'm not an artist, so forgive me if I'm wrong. But I don't think it should take any artist 5 years to make a commission and even if, at least communicate with the person who paid you about it so they're not left guessing.

Oh, and it gets worse. I got another person who let me know they've been waiting since 2020 for a comm and Kiki handled it far worse!

Oh yeah, she blocked them for asking about it!

And okay, even if we give Kiki-Kit the benefit of the doubt and assume she has reasons to not communicate with people and maybe even assume people messaging her are being mean about it, then why not refund them? Nice or bad, you were paid by them to do something but also have the power to deny it and refund their money. And yet, Kiki did not even do that. And even if we be super kind and assume everyone is lying, I'm still here.

I paid Kiki-Kit $40USD for a comm I thought I would get in late March and it's now late October and still nothing. And even if you don't wanna believe me cause you can't believe an artist like Kiki-Kit would do this and assume I'm after clout (which would be odd, given why would I take pleasure in calling out an artist I respected)...well, there's gonna be someone else who says this too. And people have been saying this for years and she still is getting away with it!

It's disappointing honestly. Kiki-Kit is a name so many in this fandom know and love. And I love her art too. She's a fan artist who got to be on Lost Legends. We all celebrated that in 2018 and still remember it. And I know how hard it may be to hear this, but it has to be said.

I do not like having to do this, but I have a platform that can get this message across further than others could and having been someone who lost money to her too, I know first hand what all these people have been through.

And before you say "Kiki was going through a rough time in her life. Why are you blaming her? Be patient and she'll get your stupid art done," read over everything again. I'm not saying Kiki-Kit needs to be making art 24/7 and fulfilling these comms. I'm not saying she isn't allowed to be offline and not finish things on time for reasons out of her control. What I'm saying is that she hasn't communicated properly with anyone here who paid her and has continued to accept more and more commissions from people despite not finishing ones she has backlogs of.

When an artist opens commissions, why do you think they have slots or only accept a few? Because they know they can get that many done in a certain time or know anymore will take longer. And even if it took longer, at least they give updates. I bought a commission for the interview with Alex Hirsch and got it both on time and with proper communication from the artist.

And even if you disagree with all this, be honest with yourself...is making someone wait since 2019 or 2020 for a comm and not responding to them really something still worth defending?

I'm not here to cancel anyone. I don't want Kiki-Kit's reputation to be that of an scammer who stole money from people. But she's painted herself that way to far too many people who have been warning about this for ages but no one either saw or listened to them.

I tried to be nice and messaged Kiki-Kit over and over for an update and she never responded. I had friends who she took money from who similarly have not heard anything back! If you know Kiki directly, tell her to reach out to these people and all the ones she has taken money from and not gotten back to and either refund them or commit to finishing their commissions. Please don't be rude or hostile either though, given despite it all, she is still a person like your or me who deserves a chance to make things right.

I wanna believe Kiki-Kit has just made some negligent mistakes and isn't the best with time management or communication. I mean, I'm not the best either. But I'm not asking people for money for something and then not getting back to them with it. I'm sorry to everyone who is learning about this who saw Kiki in a positive light and I'm sorry also to everyone like me who lost money to her.

I hope if nothing else, Kiki will respond and make whole everyone she has taken money from. If she really cares about this fandom that put her on a pedestal high enough that Alex Hirsch himself picked her to work on his book, she can respond to us and fulfill what we paid her to do.

I'm not asking for my commission to be done tomorrow...I just want an update. That's all. We all do! No more stalling, @kiki-kit. Please respond to us now!

Sincerely,

Every person who has paid you for a commission and has yet to hear back from you and every Gravity Falls fan who your work inspired and are now having to learn this about you!

[carnationworld-writings]

The Man He Didn’t Have to Be (Tim Bradford x fem!reader)

To read my other works, check my MASTERLIST !

Paring: Tim Bradford x reader

Universe: The Rookie

Word Count: 3857

Requested: No

Warnings: pregnancy, divorce, ex-husband who is a piece of s*it, mention of childbirth

If I forgot about anything feel free to write to me. Your well-being is a top priority to me.

Summary: When her world crumbles, Tim is there to step up.

Author’s note:

Surprise! I am alive! I know it's not what you wanted but, I started watching "The Rookie" and fell in love with Tim! So I needed to write something about him. I also may have a baby fever (again...) So this fic happened. Enjoy!

Thank you for taking the time to read my work! I would greatly appreciate any feedback you may have as it motivates me to continue improving. Please don't hesitate to share your thoughts!

And please forgive any grammar or spelling errors, as English is not my first language.

Klaudia 💜

Every time she thought her life couldn’t get worse, something new seemed to be waiting for her. First, her husband announced he was leaving, telling her he’d found a woman he loved in a way he had never loved her. She tried to fight for their marriage and convince him to change his mind, but nothing worked. With a broken heart, she finally decided to let him go. Even though her heart shattered into a thousand pieces, she signed the divorce papers. She attempted to rebuild her life—she found a small apartment, focused on her work, and tried not to sink into depression during the long, lonely hours. Thankfully, she wasn’t entirely alone. Tim Bradford, her best friend for years, had always been by her side, even in the middle of the night when she couldn’t stop crying or obsessing over what had gone wrong in her relationship. He was her rock, her greatest support.

Just when she thought her life was starting to settle down, she began feeling unwell. At first, she attributed it to stress, but eventually, she connected the dots and took a pregnancy test, which came back positive. She knew her ex-husband deserved to know the truth, even if he hadn’t been entirely honest with her. So, she texted him and asked to meet. What followed, however, was nothing short of her worst nightmare.

When they met at the café, she felt as if time had slowed down. He sat across from her, completely indifferent, as if everything that had happened between them was a closed chapter. He looked at her with a cold gaze, waiting for her to speak. She struggled to gather the strength to say the words that had been swirling in her head for days.

“I’m pregnant,” she finally said, looking straight at him, searching for any reaction. His face remained expressionless. For a moment, she thought maybe he hadn’t heard her. But after a second, his lips tightened, and his eyes showed a flicker of displeasure.

“The relationship between us was over long before I found someone else. This changes nothing,” he said coldly. Those words cut her like a knife. 

“I’m not telling you to come back to me… It’s your child and deserves to have a father… ” she tried to insist, though her voice trembled.

“That’s your problem. You’ll have to deal with it,” he replied emotionlessly, standing up from the table as if the meeting had been nothing more than an irritating interruption in his perfectly arranged new life.

When he left, she felt as if the world was collapsing around her. Tears welled up in her eyes, but this time, she wasn’t going to cry. Instead, she pulled out her phone and called Tim. As soon as he heard her voice, he knew something was wrong.

“Where are you?” he asked, no questions needed. “I’m on my way.”

It wasn’t even fifteen minutes before Tim was by her side, his eyes filled with concern. Without a word, he pulled her close, letting her lean on him as she fought back the tears. In his presence, she felt the tension in her body begin to ease.

“Tim… There’s something you should know. I…” She took a shaky breath. She felt his hold tighten around her. He rested his cheek against her head, softly rubbing her back with his hand.

“Whatever it is, we’ll handle it together. Like we always do,” he said calmly, trying to give her as much comfort as possible.

“I’m pregnant,” she whispered, feeling a lump in her throat. “And it’s his. But he said it’s only my problem. He doesn’t want anything to do with this baby…” For a moment, his face showed surprise, as if he was trying to process what he had just heard. He didn’t say anything at first, pulling back slightly to look at her, and she wasn’t sure how he would react. She feared that silence, that hesitation.

“Okay,” he finally said, slowly. Tim pressed his lips together, clearly upset, though he tried to stay calm. “He’s a jerk. But you won’t go through this alone. You’ll never be alone—I won’t let that happen.”

True to his word, Tim never let her feel alone. From the moment he learned about her pregnancy, he stepped naturally into a role that felt both essential and reassuring. He took over her usual shopping, refusing to let her carry a single bag, insisting it was the least he could do. Each morning, he arrived at her door with fresh breakfast, right after his run with Kojo, the loyal dog who seemed to sense the changes happening in their lives.

Even during his shifts, Tim made it a point to check-in. He texted her regularly, asking how she felt, and called just to hear her voice, attuned to any subtle shifts in her mood. But his favourite part of the day was always the evenings when he would come to her home. Most nights, she greeted him with a smile, though the fatigue etched on her face often told a different story. Each time, he pulled her into a warm embrace, holding her like a protective blanket. Some nights she hugged him back just as tightly; other times, she simply leaned into him, letting him hold her. On those nights, he sent her to the couch, where Kojo would curl up beside her, resting his head on her lap, seeking her affection.

Tim loved cooking dinner for them, always mindful of preparing meals that wouldn’t upset her stomach. He quickly learned what she could tolerate and what made her feel worse. On the rare occasions, his cooking didn’t go as planned, he would kneel beside her in the bathroom, holding her hair back and rubbing her back—his unwavering support something she had come to rely on deeply.

What he cherished most were their late-night conversations. They talked endlessly, about work, their future, and even the small details of their day. These talks deepened their bond with each passing evening.

But tonight felt different. From the moment he arrived, he noticed the exhaustion in her eyes, the way her thoughts seemed miles away. Sensing the shift, he suggested watching a movie they’d been meaning to catch up on. She quietly agreed, thankful for the distraction, and didn’t protest when he pulled her close, wrapping his arm around her.

As they settled in, her hand absentmindedly rested on her stomach, where a small bump had just begun to show. Though she tried not to dwell on it, her mind wandered back to something a colleague had said earlier. The words echoed painfully in her thoughts—that it was her fault her husband had left, and that Tim was only with her out of pity. The sting of those words hung heavy on her heart. Tim had always been her rock, but now, more than ever, she felt guilty leaning on him. This wasn’t his burden to carry; she had to find her strength in the chaos.

“Tim,” she began softly, breaking the silence. “I feel like I’ve dragged you into something you didn’t sign up for. This isn’t your responsibility. Me, this baby… we’re not your burden.”

Tim frowned, shaking his head firmly. “That’s not how I see it. I want to be here. I choose to be here. You’re important to me—always have been, always will be. Now that just extends to your baby too. You’re not dragging me into anything. I’m choosing this.”

She blinked back the tears threatening to spill over. The certainty in his voice made her heart ache in the best possible way. Maybe, just maybe, she didn’t have to go through this alone. Yet doubt still lingered on the edges of her mind.

“Are you sure?” she whispered, her hands trembling slightly. “This is going to change everything.”

“I’m sure,” he replied without hesitation. Gently, he placed his hand over hers, almost covering her small bump. “We’re in this together. All three of us.” They both chuckled softly as Kojo, lying contentedly by her feet, gave a small bark. “Alright, four of us,” Tim added with a grin.

She nodded slowly and leaned back against his side. No matter what uncertainties lay ahead, Tim brought peace and safety into her life. As she felt him press a soft kiss on the top of her head, she knew that he was in this 100 percent. With him by her side, she felt ready to face every step of the journey ahead.

As the movie played in the background, a warm sense of comfort washed over her. Despite the unknowns of the future, she had her best friend, someone who believed in both her and the life they were building together. And together, they could face whatever came next.

The quiet hum of the ultrasound machine filled the small room, the rhythmic beeps syncing with her heartbeat. The sound, once foreign and unnerving, had become strangely comforting, marking each milestone of a journey she’d never thought possible. Lying back, her hand rested gently on her growing belly, feeling the warmth of the life moving inside her—a sensation that was as awe-inspiring as it was surreal. The nurse moved the cold, gel-covered probe across her skin, and though a shiver ran up her spine, she barely registered it. Her eyes were locked on the screen, waiting for the familiar grainy image of her baby to appear.

And then it did—a blur at first, slowly sharpening into the unmistakable shape of tiny hands and feet, twisting and turning as if to greet them. A soft gasp escaped her lips. No matter how many times she witnessed this, it always left her breathless.

Tim sat beside her, his eyes fixed on the monitor, a quiet smile playing on his lips. His face, usually so composed, softened with awe. He had always been good at hiding his emotions, but moments like these stripped away his calm facade. Without thinking, his hand found hers, their fingers entwining in a silent exchange of support. He gave her a gentle squeeze, then leaned in and pressed a light kiss on the top of her hand. It was a gesture so natural, so full of unspoken affection, that it nearly brought tears to her eyes.

"Everything looks perfect," the nurse said, her tone upbeat as she wiped the gel from her belly. "Baby’s healthy and growing right on track."

She nodded, a wave of relief washing over her. The tight knot of anxiety that had taken up residence in her chest loosened—if only a little. Each passing month had brought new fears and uncertainties, but slowly, those feelings were giving way to cautious hope. It had taken longer than she expected to feel this way, but now, she could finally begin to see herself as a mother. And in every vision of that future, Tim was always there, steady and unwavering, just as he had been from the beginning.

After the appointment, Tim stood and offered her his hand, helping her off the exam table with the ease of someone who had been there through every step. His presence had become her constant, a source of comfort she hadn’t known she would need but now couldn’t imagine living without. Over the months, he had kept every promise, never wavering, never complaining—always there, even when she didn’t know how to ask for help.

“How are you feeling?” he asked as they stepped outside the clinic, the crisp air hitting their faces. His hand hovered near her arm, close but not quite touching—a subtle, protective gesture, ready to catch her if she stumbled.

“I’m good,” she said, a small smile pulling at her lips. “Better than I’ve felt in a long time.”

He nodded, clearly pleased, though his eyes still scanned hers, searching for any sign of discomfort or worry. “You’re handling this like a champ,” he said softly.

She let out a light laugh. “I don’t always feel like it, but I’m trying.”

As they walked to his car, their footsteps fell into an easy rhythm, the silence between them comfortable and familiar. When they reached the car, Tim opened the passenger door for her, but before getting in, she paused, turning to face him, her expression suddenly serious.

“Tim,” she began, her voice quiet but steady, “you’ve been amazing. I wouldn’t have made it this far without you. I mean it. You’ve taken care of us—even though you didn’t have to.”

He looked at her, his warm, reassuring smile never faltering. “You don’t need to thank me,” he replied softly. “I’m just glad I can be here.”

But she saw something flicker in his eyes—something deeper, something he wasn’t saying. Tim was always so careful, so controlled with his emotions, but she had known him long enough to recognize when he was holding something back. Yet she didn’t press him. Not now.

As they drove back to her apartment, the conversation shifted to lighter topics—baby names they hadn’t yet decided on, the nursery they were slowly piecing together, and the never-ending stream of baby books filling her apartment. They laughed about the absurd number of gadgets people swore they "needed" for a newborn, trading jokes about the most ridiculous ones.

Yet beneath their playful banter, there was a tension neither acknowledged, an unspoken understanding hanging in the air. Tim had always kept his distance emotionally, respectful of her space, never pushing her for more than she was ready to give. He had made it clear from the start that he was there to support her, no matter what, and he had lived up to that promise in every way. But that didn’t stop his heart from racing when she smiled, or the way his pulse quickened when their hands brushed accidentally.

He had loved her for years—long before she had married before everything had fallen apart with her ex-husband. Tim had watched her fall for someone else, had been there when her heart broke, and now, here he was, still by her side. Taking care of her, taking care of the baby that wasn’t his.

He never said anything. He couldn’t. His feelings had to wait. Right now, all that mattered was her and the baby. His love, his desires—they would come later. For now, being there was enough. It had to be.

As the weeks passed, their lives settled into a comforting rhythm, though they didn’t notice the subtle shift that began to happen between them. Unspoken feelings hovered just beneath the surface, and they found themselves growing closer, more open with one another. Friends started to notice too. They exchanged knowing smiles as Tim’s touch lingered a little longer on her arm or back.

Angela Lopez had rolled her eyes more than once when hearing endless stories about “Tim’s friend” and all the thoughtful things he did for her and the baby. Whenever she visited the station with sweet treats for everyone, Angela often caught Tim and her in quiet moments, where their connection seemed palpable. More than once, Angela noticed the way she would place his hand over her bump when the baby kicked, and how Tim responded with a smile that said more than words ever could.

The biggest change came one evening while they were assembling the crib. She sat comfortably in a rocking chair, one hand resting on her belly, the other absentmindedly petting Kojo’s head as he lay beside her. The dog had become as protective of her as Tim was, always at her side when he could be.

She watched as Tim wrestled with the instruction manual, his brow furrowed in concentration. “You’re doing it wrong,” she teased, smiling.

“I am not,” he shot back, glancing up with mock indignation. “I’ve got this.”

As he fumbled with the crib parts, she laughed—a sound that felt like a rare gift these days. For a moment, it was just like old times—before the pregnancy, before the heartbreak. Just the two of them, shared an easy, familiar joy that felt like home.

Tim looked up from the pieces scattered on the floor and froze for a second, watching her laugh. He hadn’t heard that sound in too long. It was unguarded, real. He smiled, letting himself soak in the moment.

“Well, if you’re so good at this, why don’t you help instead of just sitting there judging my work?” he teased, raising an eyebrow.

She grinned. “I’m perfectly comfortable where I am, thanks. Besides, you’re doing great. It’s... entertaining.”

He chuckled and shook his head, returning to the task, muttering under his breath about her stubbornness. But secretly, he didn’t mind. Knowing she was there, watching him, laughing—it felt right. Like this was exactly where they were meant to be.

As the crib finally took shape, something between them shifted. There was an unspoken understanding in the air, something neither had fully acknowledged until now. Tim glanced at her, and for a moment, they simply stared at each other.

He reached out, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering on her cheek longer than necessary. She leaned into his touch, her breath catching in her throat.

That was all the encouragement he needed.

Without thinking, Tim leaned in and kissed her, softly at first, hesitant. But when she kissed him back, her hand slipping to the back of his neck, pulling him closer, it felt like the most natural thing in the world. This—this—was where they were always meant to end up.

Together.

She struggled to breathe deeply as she slowly made her way down the hospital corridor, her grip tightening around the IV stand. Another contraction surged through her, pulling a low moan from her lips. She tried to focus on the gentle support of Nyla’s hand on her arm, but the pain was too consuming—sharp and overwhelming. When it finally ebbed, she glanced over at Nyla, her eyes filled with worry.

“Have you heard from Tim?” Her voice cracked, and tears welled up as she caught Nyla’s sympathetic smile.

“I texted him, and Grey knows to pass the message along. He’s coming,” Nyla reassured her. “Tim wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

She nodded, but a flicker of doubt gnawed at her. “I hope so… I don’t know if I can do this without him.” Her words were barely more than a whisper, her emotions unravelling.

“You’re stronger than you think,” Nyla said softly, her hand squeezing in quiet encouragement. “But he’ll be here, don’t worry.”

She tried to smile, but the uncertainty lingered. Tim had been her rock for so long—how could she face this moment without him? Nyla’s presence was a comfort, but it wasn’t the same.

They continued their slow walk back to the room for another check-up. The nurse met them with a concerned expression before examining her. When she announced that she was still far from delivering, a groan of frustration escaped her. She sank onto the bed, burying her face in her hands.

“I don’t know how much more I can take,” she whispered, her voice thick with exhaustion. “I just want to hold my baby.” Nyla brushed a lock of hair from her face, her steady presence an anchor.

“Soon,” she promised gently. “Soon.”

The hours crawled by in a blur of contractions and fleeting moments of rest. She clung to Nyla’s guidance, her body trembling from fatigue until the door suddenly swung open. Her breath caught as Tim rushed inside, his face flushed with worry.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” he said, hurrying to her side. His hand found hers instantly, and the crushing weight of fear lifted just a little.

“You’re here,” she whispered, her voice breaking with relief as fresh tears filled her eyes. He pressed a kiss to the back of her hand, his touch grounding her in the storm of pain and anxiety.

“I wouldn’t miss this for the world,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss her forehead. His presence radiated warmth, steadying her as another contraction gripped her.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” she managed between ragged breaths, her emotions spiralling. “I don’t know how I’d get through this without you.”

“You would,” he said softly, squeezing her hand. “But now that I’m here, I’m not going anywhere.” His gaze held hers, his thumb brushing soothing circles on her skin as another wave of pain washed over her.

They endured the hours together, Tim never leaving her side. His strength, and his quiet, unwavering support gave her the determination she needed to push through. The world blurred around them as they focused on bringing this new life into the world.

Then, after what felt like an eternity, the sharp, piercing cry of a newborn filled the room. She gasped, tears streaming down her face as the nurse placed the tiny, wriggling bundle on her chest. Her arms instinctively wrapped around the baby, and she looked up at Tim. His eyes were wide, filled with awe and tears he didn’t bother to wipe away.

She looked down at the baby, overwhelmed by the fragile, perfect little face scrunched up in protest. "Hi, sweet baby," she whispered, her voice shaking with emotion. Her fingers brushed gently over the baby’s soft cheek. "I’m your mom."

Tim stood by her side, his hand resting on her shoulder as he gazed at the baby with pure wonder. When he finally spoke, his voice was thick with emotion. "She’s perfect," he whispered, unable to look away.

“We did it,” she whispered, her eyes meeting his in a moment of shared joy.

Tim bent down, pressing a kiss to the baby’s head. "Welcome to the world," he murmured. "We’ve been waiting for you."

The baby’s cries softened, and the room fell into a peaceful quiet as if time had paused, leaving just the three of them cocooned in the moment. She couldn’t stop the tears—this time, they were tears of love, of pure joy. This was a happiness she had never known, a completeness she hadn’t imagined was possible.

“Do you want to hold her?” she asked, her voice trembling with emotion.

Tim hesitated but then nodded, his hands gentle as the nurse helped him take the baby into his arms. He cradled the tiny bundle as though it were the most precious thing in the world, and in that moment, his love was unmistakable.

"Hi there... I’m Tim," he whispered, his voice catching in his throat. He paused, then added, “I’m not your dad, but I promise I’ll love you like one.”

Her heart swelled at his words. Reaching out, she rested her hand on his arm, gazing at the baby in his arms. “Tim... you are the father she deserves. You’ve cared for her from the start. You’ve been there every step of the way... and I love you for that.”

As the baby stirred, Tim smiled through his tears, and for the first time, she felt truly whole. This was their family—imperfect, unexpected, but overflowing with love. And as Tim bent down to kiss her lips, sealing the moment, she knew that they had found their way home.

[ddiidi]

bf!Bangchan x gn!reader (ot8 mentioned)

Masterlist

When he calls you clingy, so you distance yourself

Previous Pt. 1

Pt. 2

Next Pt. 3

!Warnings: angst, swearing, fun at the end bc reader needs fun in life (lmk if i missed anything)

Important!Side-Note!: Should I do a happy ending for them?

It has been 3 days since that incident. 3 days and still not a single message from Chan, not even an apology for yelling at you, nothing. You've been texting him every now and then, to ask if he's okay, eats and sleeps. He never replied to any of them, nor has he seen them, so you spend most of the time packing your stuff and working from home. You were glad you had a job you also could work from home for. Every now and then, you went over to the building, to check a few things, walking extra detours, to make sure, you won't bump into Chan.

A few of the other members texted you the past days, asking if everything is okay and why the haven't seen you around for a while, to which you just replied with "Busy with work and private stuff, dww:)". It made you happy they actually care that much about you, just because they haven't seen you in a few days, but also anxious and sad, since they care, but chan hasn't even shown any intress in you the past days. You weren't even able to tell him that you're moving.

More days pass, and a few days, turn into a week of no textes from Chan. At this point, you wondered if he even knew that you still exist.

So here you were, in your old apartment, stuffed with boxes, not being able to get your mind off chan and his well-being, even though, you're still deeply hurt from what he said, you couldn't just not not care about him....He pointed out two of your insecurities, just like that as if it was nothing and he doesn't even care...not about you not your feelings.

You let out a deep sigh. You should be getting ready for a day with your friends. Not think about some man, who happened to be the love of your life, who calls you his partner, but doesn't even know how to cherish you.

You let out another, heavy, sigh as you drop to the floor to put on your shoes, Let's just focus on having a great time today, you thought to yourself and left the apartment.

Well, maybe it was not the best decision to go out today...

Chan for his part, had to listen to a lectur from Felix, after you ran out, crying. "Chris..you really shouldn't have said all that to her. I understand that you were annoyed or whatever, but that was no reason to yell at her" "Really now? They were just being a fucking, clingy and annoying crybaby that couldn't take no for an answer, for whatever reason." chan sighed out, at the younger member. "That crybaby...was really uncalled for chris. They're your partner, not some random person on the street you can yell at. I wouldn't wonder if they took that "Leave me alone" to heart and actually leave you after that action." "But I-" chan starts, "I'm just saying chris. You better fix this before it's too late. After what you pulled, partners are faster gone than you could blink" with that, Felix leaves the room, leaving Chan alone, again.

Since that talk, Chan locked himself in his studio, thinking about the best way to apologize for what he said. But he couldn't find one. No matter how long he thought, days, a whole week, there was nothing but regret. He just had to apologize in person and beg for forgivness, hoping that you'd actually forgive him.

So there he was, with a giant bouquet of flowers, fresh clothes and hope.

He had the code to your apartment, so he opened the door, ready to be greeted by the warm, wide open hallway, but was greeted with the cold gray of bunch of boxes instead and the first thing he felt, was panic."Y/n? Y/n are you there?" he yelled, as he ran through your whole apartment, but as he saw that even all your date polaroid pictures where gone, he couldn't help but panic even more.

He let's the flowers fall on the floor, running to your room and nearly collapsed when he found..nothing. Where were you? Did you actually go? Did you actually leave him? All these questions consumed his head and that's when he broke, crying to the point he couldn't breath. He took out his phone and called the first number he saw in his recent calls. It peeped a few times, before someone took the call.

"Hey Chris everything alr-" "They're gone! Felix they're gone, they're not here i don't know what to do! I've never meant it I was just-" chan cried and gasped out at felix on the other line. "Woah there calm down, try to breath I don't understand a word. Relax, I'll be there okay? You know there is an explination for everything, that's what you always say, so try to relax it's okay" Felix tried to soothen the older man, while grabbing his keys and running out to his car. Chan didn't reply anything to that and continued soobing.

I have your location, I'll be there in 5." that's the last thing chan heared from felix, before he collapsed on the floor in your apartment.

And you? You were drinking coffee with your friends, while your bestie told you guys a story how she saw a horse that nearly drowned.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾✧༺🖤༻✧✧༺🖤༻✧✧༺🖤༻✧☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

@finnbbl @wolfs-howling

[chahnniesroom]

some loves

pairing: bang chan x female reader

summary: some loves are too hard to bear. years after being trainees together, chan still thinks of you all the time. he has no idea that a collaboration would lead him back to you.

word count: 6.9k

tags/warnings: reader is an independent singer/songwriter, hurt/comfort, angst, mentions of past injuries, a little bit of jealousy, i am still in denial that chan doesn't do lives anymore, hongjoong from ateez is in this fic

read it on ao3 | masterlist

a/n: once again, sorry for the long time between posts. disclaimer that i do not know much about how the music/idol industry works and i did not really do much research. also i'm not an atiny so sorry if my portrayal of hongjoong is not realistic at all. also also i did a lot of the writing on a new tablet doing handwriting with a stylus to text so please forgive any typos or weird formatting! i didn't have a chance to edit much so i may have missed some things.

Chan’s in his studio when he gets the call. At first, he doesn’t even realise his phone is ringing. It’s 2am on a weekday and he’s been working away for a few hours so the rest of the world has just about faded into the background.

He’s both surprised and intrigued when he looks at the caller ID and sees Hongjoong’s name. Chan would consider Hongjoong to be a friend, but they’re not particularly close and he can’t think of a reason that would warrant this late night call.

“Hey hyung,” Hongjoong greets him briefly before getting straight to the point. “What’s your schedule like in the next few months?”

“It’s actually not too bad,” Chan replies after a moment of thought. “We’re just finalising all the music for the next album so it’ll be a bit of time before we get busy with recording and filming for the comeback. What’s up?”

“You don’t have the answer now and I don’t want you to feel any pressure at all, but would you be interested in doing a collab together?”

“A collab?” Chan repeats. “Like, ATEEZ and Stray Kids?”

“We could,” Hongjoong says reluctantly. “But actually, if you’re up for it then I was thinking more like just you and me. I have a couple tracks that we could work off of and I’ve roped in someone to help me with recording, engineering, and production.”

“Who?” Chan asks, interest piqued.

“Not sure if you’ve heard of them, they go by the name HALLA.”

Chan recognises the name instantly. When Chan had first stumbled upon HALLA one late night scrolling and listening to different independent artists, they seemed relatively unknown. However, a little research revealed that they had KOMCA credits on a number of songs for idol groups, some of which had become widely popular. Their personal work was a variety of genres and a majority of the tracks didn’t have vocals, but the ones that did had clever or thoughtful lyrics. There were a couple of different voices featured in the original songs, both of which were smooth and melodic. HALLA has a style that Chan thinks would complement Stray Kids and he’s considered reaching out to them a few times, but was always held back by something.

There was little about HALLA posted on the internet and while Chan definitely appreciates their privacy, he’s curious to meet the person behind all the songs that he enjoyed. There’s just something familiar about all their music that he can’t quite place, something that he wants more of.

“I’m in,” Chan agrees.

“You can take some time to think about it, talk to JYPE to see what their thoughts are too.”

“No need, I’m interested and I know I can convince management to support this.”

“Well that was easy,” Hongjoong says and Chan can basically hear him grinning through the phone. “And for my own pride, I’m going to pretend that you said yes the second I suggested the collab instead of when I mentioned HALLA-ssi.” Chan instantly flushes and is glad that Hongjoong can’t see him over the phone.

“It wasn’t-” Chan begins to protest.

“It’s okay,” Hongjoong interrupts. “I’m also pretty thrilled to get to work with them, so I understand. Didn’t realise you were familiar with their work, but I guess a hidden gem like them can’t stay hidden for long. I’ll send some files over to you and we can organise a time to work.”

—

Chan finds it easy to work with Hongjoong and they make quick progress on the song, writing lyrics and creating a guide within a couple of weeks. Before he knows it, they’ve scheduled a time for Chan to visit KQ Entertainment to record vocals. Hongjoong knows that Chan is keen to be involved in the production and arrangement of the song too, so they also have a couple sessions booked for that, although Hongjoong teases him relentlessly about just wanting to work with HALLA. The worst part is that Chan can’t even deny it.

Hongjoong meets him at the entrance of KQ Entertainment and quickly takes him through security.

“HALLA-ssi is already in the studio,” Hongjoong explains as they wait for the elevator to arrive. “I was getting input on a track that’s been killing me for the past few days.”

“Did they help?” Chan asks, a little surprised that HALLA is involved in more than just this collaboration. He still hasn't had a chance to connect with them other than quick introductions through text a couple of days ago and he's just as excited to meet them as initially.

“Yeah!” Hongjoong grins, eyes curving into little crescents. “HALLA-ssi is amazing. She only had listen to it a couple times before she came up with suggestions on a few different ways to fix the part that I hated. I left her to finish cleaning the song up and then it’s basically ready for review.”

“How did you start working with HALLA-ssi? I’ve been meaning to try to connect with her.”

“It was actually a friend that suggested working with her. For someone who isn’t signed with a label- which I don’t know how nobody has signed her yet- she’s surprisingly well connected within the industry. I’m sure that KQ would be more than happy to have her work with us, but when I hinted at that, she didn’t seem interested.”

“Really?” Although KQ Entertainment is still one of the smaller companies in the industry, most unsigned artists would still jump at the chance to work there since they have a good reputation, especially due to ATEEZ’s popularity.

“I haven’t poked too much, it’s not really my business. I thought I might as well try. I just know that she’s amazing at her job and I’m grateful that I get to work with her at all.”

They turn the corner to the hallway that leads to the recording studio. The door is ajar and Hongjoong opens it, waving his arm forward to allow Chan to walk through first, before following closely behind.

HALLA’s sitting at the desk and the second Chan sees her face, he stops in his tracks.

“Y/n,” Chan breathes.

You look up, startled, and your eyes connect for a split second before Hongjoong crashes into Chan, sending them both tumbling to the ground.

“Hyung,” Hongjoong complains, unaware of Chan’s inner turmoil. “Why’d you stop?”

Chan lets out an apologetic wheeze from where he’s now trapped under Hongjoong, before resting his forehead against the ground. He needs a second to recover.

It feels like a punch to the gut to see you in front of the recording studio’s computer, fiddling with a track. You look different, but somehow it feels like Chan has been transported right back to his trainee days and all that time that the two of you had spent side by side.

It has been years since Chan last saw you. He had found out that you had left JYPE just months after Stray Kids officially debuted, but all efforts to track you down had been futile. You had changed your number and broken contact with all the other trainees. He had asked around a little bit, but everyone he talked to had been unusually cagey about the subject.

Suddenly, everything makes more sense, especially the little that he knows about HALLA.

As trainees, Chan’s favourite moments had been when you had regaled him with stories of growing up on Jeju Island. The two of you had connected early on through your shared love of the ocean. You had promised him that if he ever went to visit in his free time, you would take him on the best trails up to the Hallasan, the shield volcano, and show him incredible views from the highest point on the island. Occasionally, your parents would send you care packages and the two of you would open them hidden away in one of the vocal practice rooms, the sweet citrus of hallabong exploding in your mouths.

You had always spoken about Jeju Island so fondly, of course you would find a way to indirectly pay homage through the stage name that you chose.

“Oppa,” your voice rings out in the silence of the room. Now, Chan knows why the female voice on some of HALLA’s songs had always seemed hauntingly familiar. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” both Chan and Hongjoong say at the same time, then make eye contact with identical confused expressions.

“Hongjoong-ssi, you didn’t mention that the person you wanted to feature on the track was Channie-oppa,” you say, making it clear who you were addressing your concern to earlier.

“It was supposed to be a surprise!” Hongjoong gets up slowly, dusting off his clothes and scratching at the back of his head, still looking bewildered. “I had no idea that you two knew each other, hyung mentioned he hadn’t worked with you before.”

Chan stays quiet, not sure how much you’re willing to share. Hongjoong must not know about your time with JYPE if he can’t piece together how the two of you could have met.

“Oh- I used to- We trained together back in the day,” you explain sheepishly. “I was with JYPE for a little while and all the trainees knew who Channie-oppa was. That was a long time ago though, I didn’t use the name HALLA back then.”

The five years that you trained at JYPE are more than a little while, but Chan forces himself to bite his tongue at your deliberate understatement. You don’t elaborate further and while it’s obvious that Hongjoong isn’t satisfied with your answer, he’s willing to drop the topic for now. You look relieved when he switches the subject to the song.

The three of you finish recording quickly. It shouldn’t be a surprise, the work so far with Hongjoong has been smooth so adding you to the mix has just made things easier, but Chan knows he’s a perfectionist and it often takes him an almost embarrassing number of takes before he’s satisfied. The only delay comes when Hongjoong decides he wants you to sing some of the backing vocals and resorts to actually getting on his knees and begging. Chan doesn’t go so far, but he can’t help but agree that your voice blends with the song perfectly. Of course, he also just wants to hear you sing.

You relent when Chan quietly voices his agreement and it really shouldn't make Chan feel as smug as it does.

It’s not even early enough for dinner when things are wrapped up. Chan is usually eager to finish a schedule early, but he’s reluctant to leave, taking his time packing up his belongings.

Finally, he doesn’t have a reason to stay any longer so he musters up the courage to ask.

“Do you guys want to go grab some coffee or something to eat?”

You and Hongjoong make eye contact before turning to look at Chan guiltily. His stomach churns for some reason.

“I’m sorry,” you wince. “I actually promised to help Hongjoong-ssi with an ATEEZ song and we need to go over the edits that I made before his meeting with the company later today.”

“Oh,” Chan replies, feeling a little relieved. “Right, no yeah I get it. Hongjoong actually mentioned that earlier, but I forgot. My bad.”

You offer an apologetic smile before turning to the computer, opening up a file.

“I’ll see you guys next time, then,” Chan says, starting to back out of the room.

“Of course! Thank you for your hard work and good job today!” you say brightly. Looking distracted, Hongjoong mumbles an agreement and waves goodbye. Unlike you, he’s not staring at the computer monitor though. Instead, his focus is solely on you. Even from his side profile, Chan can tell that he’s enamoured.

Honestly, Chan can’t really blame him, you look comfortable and confident, swallowed up in an oversized hoodie as you start explaining the alterations that you made to the track. Your voice is calm, but warm and you’re careful to start off by complimenting the work that Hongjoong had done previously.

Chan leaves, resolutely ignoring the twisted feeling that’s back with a vengeance and any thoughts of what the cause might be.

—

Chan can’t sleep. His thoughts are all about you, what you’ve been doing the past few years, what happened to you at JYPE that made you leave, and mostly trying to remember how and why your relationship with him slowly fell apart.

That’s the hardest part. In the darkest time of his life, when Chan had been discouraged and disheartened, you had joined JYPE with a brightness and enthusiasm that gave Chan the motivation to continue being a trainee. He had adored you. He still does.

In those last few months before the survival show had been filmed, Chan’s relationship with you had gone from being everything to nothing. It happened in the blink of an eye, and Chan had never understood what caused you to withdraw so quickly and thoroughly. The two of you had gone from spending almost all of your free time together to you avoiding him at the company, pretending not to hear when he called out your name or tried to get your attention.

The regret of letting you slip away has always eaten away at him, but now more than ever.

Of course, at the time it hadn’t felt so simple. The survival show was Chan’s first serious chance to debut, and not just that, but the weight of having eight other people’s careers depending on his leadership took a toll on all his other relationships. Your absence in his life still hurt, but Chan had lots of practice losing people. He had coped in the way that worked best in the past, throwing himself headlong into producing, training, anything to keep himself from wallowing in his feelings.

Chan doesn’t have any schedules for today, but he still heads to the company. He knows this isn’t the healthiest way to deal with things, but he doesn’t know anything else.

When he arrives, Chan just barely manages to catch a glimpse of a few familiar faces. He calls out before he can think better of it, jogging slightly to catch up. Sana, Momo, and Mina watch curiously as he approaches. He knows that Twice also aren’t in a busy period of the year, so he doesn’t feel guilty delaying them.

“Sorry to bother you all. Sana-noona, I was just wondering if we could chat?”

Sana makes brief eye contact with the rest of the girls before agreeing and waving them to go ahead of her. She follows behind Chan as he leads them into his studio, clearly interested in determining the reason behind this atypical meet up.

“What’s up, Channie?” she asks once the door is closed behind them.

Chan tries to think of the best way to start, not wanting to just outright ask, but not knowing how to subtly steer the conversation into the right direction. Finally, he abandons trying to be casual and just blurts out, “Do you remember Y/n?”

“Of course I do,” Sana says, sounding amused at the sudden mention of you. “You both had reputations for being veteran trainees. I mean, other than Jihyo.”

“I was always surprised that she never debuted,” Chan admits. “I just thought it would happen eventually and I was so shocked to find out that she had left. I didn’t- I don’t understand why she gave up on something she wanted so badly.”

“Give up?” Sana asks, sounding like she’s offended on your behalf. “Why would you say it like that?”

“What do you mean? It was like she was there one day and gone the next, I just assumed that she had enough and quit. Nobody seemed to know anything about it. I never found out why and it’s been kind of killing me.”

“You didn’t hear what happened?”

“What- something happened? To her?” Chan swallows hard, suddenly feeling unwell.

“It- I thought that you of all people would know-”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, but- you never talked to her about it? You knew her better than any of us.”

“Noona, I didn’t know that she was gone until months later. She obviously didn’t want to talk about it to me, I never reached out at first. When I finally did, her number had been changed. What was I supposed to do?”

“I- It’s better if you were to hear it from her. I don’t know the full story and you know how things can be distorted through gossip. And you especially must know how dangerous that can be.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You really have no clue? The two of you were inseparable…”

“Please,” Chan pleads.

“You know how it is in the industry, you were so close, of course there were rumours…”

It suddenly clicks.

“But we were just friends! And the dating ban-”

“Chan, you know nobody actually sticks to those, right?”

“But really, we were never-”

“I believe you,” Sana says, carefully. “But you know that to management that it doesn’t really matter whether or not anything was actually going on. To them it’s all about the optics. A perceived relationship is just as dangerous as an actual one.”

“Management…” Chan repeats, his mind racing. “They never mentioned anything to me though.”

“You never found it suspicious? You two are extremely close and out of the blue she suddenly stops talking to you, then right after the two of you stop hanging out, you’re chosen for the survival show? Someone must have talked to her at some point. Maybe not management, but for sure someone.”

“You think that’s why it took so long for me to debut?” Chan asks, even though he already knows the answer.

“It was a liability,” Sana explains. “To have a dating scandal so early on? Neither of your careers would survive. It’s painful and a terrible part of the industry but it’s true.”

“And.. Why she left, you know about that too?” Chan pleads.

“I think I’ve said too much already. I know that it’s hard, but some things are really personal.” She pauses for a moment. “What brought this on, anyway? You haven’t mentioned Y/nnie in years.”

“I can’t say much, but I- I saw her today, got to talk to her, found out what she’s been up to.” Sana gasps. Chan continues. “It was so weird to see her after so long. In the back of my mind, I had always wondered, but…”

“I’m glad that you two got to reconnect,” Sana says gently. “The two of you cared about each other a lot, that much was obvious. Talk to her, I think at the very least you’ll be able to find peace about what happened.”

“Noona-” Chan reaches out and pulls Sana into a tight hug. “Thank you for telling me. I appreciate it.”

“Of course. I’m sorry that it took so long for you to find out.”

—

A few days later, Hongjoong schedules another session to work on the song. Leading up to it, Chan is both looking forward to it and nervous, not sure what to expect. Although he still really wants to know what happened to you all those years ago, he’s scared about what he might learn and any part he might have had in it.

After a sleepless night, he ends up arriving almost 15 minutes early. This time, Hongjoong isn’t waiting at the building’s entrance. Instead he had let him know a few days before that Chan could just sign himself in and had sent him the name and location of the studio that was booked. When Chan reaches it, he can make out conversation from inside.

“HALLA,” Hongjoong can be heard through the studio doors, which aren’t fully shut. His tone is petulant and much more casual than it was previously. Chan wonders how much time the two of you have spent together between then and now and he almost misses the next thing that Hongjoong says. “You never told me that you were a trainee before.”

That stops Chan in his tracks, interested in how you’ll respond.

“It was a long time ago.” Your voice is faint. You’re still nice, but Chan can tell that your voice is stiffer than usual. “It doesn’t really matter now.”

This time, Hongjoong doesn’t let it go.

“What happened?” he prods.

“Just drop it,” you warn him. “It’s the past, forget I told you in the first place. Nothing ever came of it anyway.”

“Y/n-” Hongjoong changes tactics, the nagging tone replaced with a quieter, more serious one. You sigh.

“It didn’t work out. Obviously. I’m just not idol material.”

“Oh come on, I don’t believe that for a second. Your producing is good enough that I know for sure you’ve been getting offers to work with more companies than just KQ. When you direct during recording, you can hit every note without any warm up or practice. And I’ve heard your original songs, you must have been considered for both the position of lead rapper and lead singer as a trainee because there’s no way that anybody would let your talent go to waste.” Hongjoong is breathing hard by the end of his rant and Chan can see that this is something that has been bothering him for a while.

“It’s okay, Hongjoong-oppa.” Your voice is gentle, like you’re trying to comfort him. “I’m happy with what I have right now. Really. I’m grateful for all the freedom I have. Getting to work on any project I want and experiment with my music without having to deal with the bureaucracy and politics of the industry? Having that independence is precious to me. I wanted to be an idol for a long long time. But even though that specific plan I had didn’t work out, it doesn’t mean I’m not happy with what I’m doing.”

Hongjoong stays quiet for a while.

“Do you think that if you had the opportunity to debut as an idol now, you would?” he finally asks.

“Oppa, it’s not possible. I can’t dance, I’m too old-” you protest.

“No no, just hypothetically. Like if someone walked into the room and handed you a contract and said that if you signed it in an hour then you’d be able to debut.”

“I- I don’t know.”

“What’s your gut feeling?”

“I think I left that dream behind, I don’t know if I want to go down that path again. I don’t think I have it in me.”

“I’m sorry,” Hongjoong says after another pause. “I shouldn’t have questioned you so much, you shouldn’t have to justify your decisions to me.”

“No, it’s fine. It seems strange, right? For me to be an artist in Seoul and not want to get signed, it's only natural for you to be curious. But I learned a lot when I was a trainee and I learned even more after that and I can say with certainty that this is what I want.”

Chan takes that opportunity to knock on the studio door and push it open.

“Hey, hope I’m not interrupting,” he says, as if he wasn’t just eavesdropping on their conversation and purposely chose when to cut in. “Sorry, I’m a little bit late.”

“Hey, no problem man,” Hongjoong says. “We haven’t had a chance to do anything yet, so you’re right on time.”

“Good to see you,” you chime in. “I think this should be pretty quick so let’s get started!”

As you predicted, it doesn’t take long before a majority of the song is finished. Normally, Chan would be keen to stay involved until the very last detail is finalised, but he trusts you and at the end of this day, it’s Hongjoong’s song so he’s happy to give him the final say.

At the end of the session, Chan once again uses the opportunity to try to catch you alone. The two of you are side by side, packing your bags and Chan asks if you have any plans for the rest of the day. You confirm that you're available and Chan is about to suggest that the two of you take the time to catch up when Hongjoong interrupts.

“Oh, Y/n-ah,” he says. “I was actually hoping to get your input on something and I didn’t have a chance to ask you earlier. Can you please stick around for a bit? Sorry, hyung.”

Hongjoong sounds so sincere that Chan almost doesn’t feel annoyed that he’s stealing all of your time and attention. Almost, because at the end of the day, Chan’s only human. Even though he knows he has no right to feel possessive over you, he can’t stop the petty jealousy that bubbles up inside of him. At this point, there’s no denying the emotion.

Just like the previous session, he leaves alone, heading directly to the studio. Hours later, his breath catches when he checks his phone and sees that you’ve texted him.

[Received - 8:04pm]

Channie-oppa~

[Received - 8:04pm]

This is Y/nnie

[Received - 8:05pm]

Sorry about earlier, I have a contract with KQ Entertainment and work comes first :/

[Received - 8:09pm]

But I’m free now! You still interested in catching up?

Chan stares at the messages until it feels like they’re burned into his retinas. Logically, he knew that you had his number, the two of you were in a group chat that Hongjoong had set up, but this was your first time messaging him privately. The first time you had reached out in years. A precious opportunity that he never thought that he would have. He doesn’t want to mess this up.

He’s also shocked to see you texting so casually. Although the two of you have been comfortable in person, he wasn’t sure that it would translate to one-on-one conversation.

[Sent - 8:10pm]

Hey Y/n!

[Sent - 8:11pm]

No worries at all, I understand. I’m the same way too

[Sent - 8:13pm]

I still wanna meet up… but I’m all the way back in Gangdong-gu 😅 It’d be a bit of a trek for you if you're still at KQ

[Received - 8:13pm]

Gangdong-gu?

[Received - 8:14pm]

Ohh JYPE

[Received - 8:14pm]

My bad, forgot that you guys moved

[Sent - 8:15pm]

Yeahhh

[Sent - 8:15pm]

Headed straight back to the company after we were done, sorry

[Received - 8:18pm]

Well… If you’re willing to wait then I don’t mind. KQ is close to a metro station anyway

[Sent - 8:18pm]

Wait, really?

[Sent - 8:18pm]

No no no, don’t take the subway

[Sent - 8:18pm]

I’ll send a driver. They’re gonna pick you up in 20 min

[Received - 8:19pm]

Wowow

[Received - 8:19pm]

Private driver?

[Received - 8:20pm]

You’re a real superstar now haha

[Sent - 8:21pm]

alsfjshkafs noooooooo

[Sent - 8:21pm]

It’s just faster

[Sent - 8:21pm]

and safer

[Received - 8:22pm]

I’m not complaining

[Received - 8:22pm]

but I’m going to get your autograph when I see you

[Received - 8:23pm]

If I sell it then I can probably afford my own private driver 🤭

[Sent - 8:24pm]

Knew it

[Sent - 8:25pm]

You’re just using me for my fame

[Received - 8:26pm]

Ah you got me this time

[Received - 8:26pm]

*Your fame, your talent, and your good looks

[Received - 8:27pm]

Even tho you were the one that said you wanted to meet up

[Received - 8:27pm]

Hmmm maybe you’re the one using me?

Chan listens to his phone as it continues to vibrate from where it’s lodged in between two of the couch cushions after he threw it across to the opposite side of the room. His face is buried in his hands and flaming red. He feels both giddy and terribly embarrassed.

Chan’s no stranger to flirting, he’s experienced his fair share being on either side through interactions with the members and with Stay, but he forgot how flustered he was being on the receiving end of your teasing. The part he never understood is that your playful tone always gave way to sincerity. Even when the two of you would joke around, he could always tell that you meant every comment that you made about Chan being talented or attractive and that flattered him almost as much as it baffled him.

[Received - 8:32pm]

?? Speechless that I caught on?

[Received - 8:36pm]

I think your driver has arrived… Otherwise I’m being kidnapped

[Received - 8:40pm]

Don’t think I would survive a horror film… I got into the car with no questions asked

[Received - 8:42pm]

It was nice knowing you I guess

When he realises how much time has passed, Chan grabs his phone and runs down to the back entrance of the company. Luckily you haven’t arrived yet and he takes the time to reply to your messages.

[Sent - 8:53pm]

Sorry, lost track of time

[Sent - 8:53pm]

They’ll drop you off at the back door, I’ll meet you there so you don’t have to get signed in or anything

[Received - 8:54pm]

Don’t think you’re getting away with ignoring my other texts

[Received - 8:55pm]

But thanks

[Received - 8:55pm]

Is this back door, the famous one that only allows in authorised people?

[Received - 8:55pm]

I’m honoured

Chan rolls his eyes at your cheesy reference and is in the middle of typing up a response when he sees the car pull up. You step out cautiously, then brighten when you see where Chan’s propping up the door.

“Hey,” Chan greets you. “Glad that you made it safely.”

“Thanks for the ride,” you say, looking around curiously as Chan leads you to an elevator that takes you to the rest of the building. “So this is the new and improved JYP Entertainment. I’d say that it looks the same as before, but I never got the chance to come in.”

“Yeah,” Chan says, rubbing a hand against the back of his neck as he walks. “I mean it’s pretty nice, but at the end of the day a practice room is a practice room and that’s where we spend most of our time.”

“Hmm I think we might have to agree to disagree on that one. You have your own studio don’t you?”

“Ah, kind of. It’s technically a shared one, but practically I’m the only one that uses it unless we’re out of the country for a long time,” Chan confirms.

“Seems a lot better than what we used to have! Do you remember when we used to cram ourselves into that tiny room that barely even fit two chairs and a table?”

“I almost forgot about that, it was so terrible! In the summer it would get so hot that we’d keep the door open-”

“And then someone would come yell at us because we’d be playing music too loud-”

“I remember begging management to install a portable air conditioner on multiple occasions, but they always refused.”

“Of course! Even if they weren’t so stingy, there weren’t any windows leading outside in there, how could they install it?”

“Is that why? I always thought they just wanted us to suffer.”

“That too,” you giggle for a moment, before your smile fades. “But they weren’t totally unreasonable. Management has a different perspective than us, sometimes they know better than us because of their understanding of the industry. They can see things that we don’t.”

It’s clear that you’re no longer talking about air conditioning anymore. A lump seems to have formed in Chan’s throat when he recalls his conversation with Sana. Luckily, the two of you have just arrived and Chan forces himself to smile.

“We’re here,” he says, opening the door and motioning for you to enter ahead of him. “Welcome to Channie’s Room!”

“It’s cute!” you say as you step in. “Very… neat. It’s actually more spacious than it looks.”

“Oh,” Chan says, faltering in his steps for a second. “You- you’ve seen my studio?”

“In case you didn’t realise, you go live every week from said studio. I think at this point everyone in the K-pop industry and every K-pop fan has seen it,” you tease.

“Right, yeah. I didn’t- I wasn’t sure how much you kept up with that kind of stuff,” Chan stammers.

“K-pop or do you mean specifically Stray Kids?” you ask, tilting your head slightly.

“Either I guess," Chan shrugs.

"I will admit that it took me a while to get back into it," you say slowly. "I wasn't... in the best mindset after I left." Chan stays quiet, sensing that you're not quite finished. "I know that I disappeared and I am sorry for not reaching out. I wanted to, but I also didn't know how. I know that I hurt you. That it was cruel to avoid you, not reply to your messages, ignore your calls. I had my reasons why, but it doesn't excuse the pain that I caused, and I'm sorry for that too."

“I think,” Chan swallows hard. “I think that the most difficult part was that for the longest time, I didn’t know why. I didn’t know what I did wrong. I asked Sana about it finally, after I saw you again. And I just felt so stupid to realise that it was obvious to everyone except me."

“I’m sorry,” you say again. “I wanted to tell you, of course I wanted to. But I also knew you. If I had told you that us being together was preventing your debut-”

“I wouldn’t have cared,” Chan finishes your sentence for you, starting to understand. “I would have done anything to keep you by my side.”

"Even if it meant throwing away your career," you say softly. "I couldn't let you do that to yourself. You worked so hard, how could I live with being the reason that you were stuck in the training rooms? You belong on stage, making music.”

"The part that I still don’t get though is why you left? You should have been able to debut as well, I know it."

“Ah,” you say wistfully. You look around and grab onto the pillow that’s on the couch beside you, fidgeting with it as you figure out what to say next. “You know, I actually was supposed to debut.”

“What? How come I never heard about it?” Chan feels a pang in his chest. All these years ago, the two of you had promised that the other would be the first person that they would tell if they ever found out that they had the chance to debut. It seemed that neither of them had kept their promise.

“It was supposed to be a secret project. JYP wanted to see how successful a surprise debut announcement would be. You should have seen the NDAs that they made us sign.” You shake your head, letting out a huff of air. “It turned out to be a good decision because it meant they could cancel it without anyone knowing that we existed in the first place.”

"Who was in the group?" Chan asks.

"There were five of us. I think you know all of them, Sumin, Ryujin, Sojin, and Hyowon," you list. You're right, Chan is either familiar with or has heard of all the girls that you mention. It doesn't make sense though, the group was filled with talented individuals and Chan can't think of any reason strong enough to lead to disbandment. Even more baffling is that of the five of you, only Ryujin ended up staying at the company long enough to join the lineup for another group.

"And they just cancelled it out of nowhere?"

“No... It was- I know that for any idol, preparing for debut is tough, but I think that in some ways, it’s especially brutal for the girl groups," you say instead. Chan doesn't question you further, knowing that you must have a point that you're trying to make.

“How so?” Chan has an idea, he’s seen what the female trainees went through, the differences in how they were evaluated and criticised. But he wants to hear it from you, wants to understand what you’ve been through.

“The visual aspect feels like it’s more heavily emphasised than our talent or skills. We were measured for our music video outfits the second they finalised the concept. It was really early on, but at the time I thought it was so exciting and fun that I didn’t question it. I think that all of us were so thrilled by the thought of debuting that we didn't think anything of it. We did our final fittings for it a few weeks before filming and they had made them all a size too small, everything was just a little bit too tight. They didn’t outright say it, but it was implied that they weren’t going to alter them. It was a choice to lose weight or our chance to debut was gone. We were devastated and angry and eventually just resigned. If that's what it took then I would do it. We dieted like crazy for the time leading up to filming,” you laugh, but it's in disbelief, the sound is hollow.

Paired with what you’re saying, it makes Chan want to burn the whole world down. He doesn't say anything, not sure if he can even open his mouth without letting his rage escape, something that you don't deserve.

“We were practising, like always," you continue. "There was a tricky step that needed to be fixed by the next day when we’d be recording, a flip that we hadn't quite mastered. I was the smallest one on the team, so I was the one being flipped. It must have been like 3 or 4 in the morning, we were all tired, hungry, and nervous about filming. Honestly, I don't quite remember what happened, it was all a blur. There was just this feeling that something went wrong and then pain."

You roll up the pants on your left leg and show off the skin there. Chan has to hold back a gasp at the sight. Even though it’s long healed, the scarring is extensive and obvious. Chan can't imagine how much it must have hurt.

“I broke my ankle in two places and sprained my wrist. I couldn't believe it, five years of my life just gone in an instant. It took months before I could walk and even longer before I could dance again. Even now, I can't dance anywhere close to the way that I used to," you say with a watery smile. “Sojinnie had a concussion from the fall and Suminnie dislocated her shoulder, I must have knocked into them or fallen onto them or something. What could we do? Three out of the five of us were out of commission, there was no time and no budget for a group that hadn’t even debuted to find replacements or re-record and re-film everything. I woke up after surgery and they told me that they were sorry, but my contract with the company was over. That someone had helped me pack up all my things in the dorm. I went back to Jeju-do as soon as I was released from the hospital.”

"I- I'm sorry that I didn't know," Chan says, clearing his throat roughly when his voice breaks partway through the sentence. " I wish that I could have been there, to help or comfort you. I should have-"

"Oppa," you respond gently. "It's okay. I didn't tell anybody what happened and the company also kept things quiet. I'm glad you didn't find out at the time. You had other, more important things to focus on, I didn't want to distract you from that."

"You're not a distraction," Chan says incredulously. "You're important to me, I would have dropped everything to be with you in such a difficult time."

"And that's exactly why I couldn't tell you. You've always been too good to me, Channie-oppa," you sniffle. "Look at you now! I'm so always proud when I think of how far you've come."

Chan lifts a trembling hand and carefully cups your face, using his thumb to wipe away a tear that has started making its way down your cheek. He hears your breathing hitch, but you don't object to his touch. If anything, you melt into it.

Chan takes the opportunity to wrap his arms around you, bringing you close. The gesture breaks the dam of tears that you must have been holding back. Chan rocks the two of you back and forth gently, just letting you cry and trying to surreptitiously wipe away his own tears. It takes a few minutes before you calm, taking huge shuddering breaths that break Chan's heart almost as much as your sobs had.

"I'm sorry," you say with a voice thick with emotion.

"Hey, no," Chan reassures you. "There's no need to apologise. Are you feeling better now?"

You nod slowly, head still pressed against Chan's chest.

"I think- I think I just missed you. I always thought it would get easier, not having you in my life, but it never did."

At your words, Chan can't help his arms from tightening, squeezing you close.

"I finally found you again," he says. "And this time, I promise that I won't ever let you go."

read it on ao3 | masterlist

[madschiavelique]

Hi dear, how are you?, could you write an imagine onde reader mentioning offhand how much she would love a whole family. Four, maybe six children? Girls and boys split right down the middle, but the second Miguel hears this (maybe the reader is on the phone, or talking to lyla. or someone at HQ) and Miguel loses his mind

1) Miguel can't help himself and he would grab you and put you on the mattress for a very long time...... or

2) torture himself for two weeks before telling her why he was avoiding her please.

HIHIHI BREEDING BARK BARK (sorry this took so long to write anon zehfrfgh i pulled an all nighter to make this one so also forgive me if there are some mistakes in this gksffgjgbf)

summary : miguel learns you want kids, a lot of kids, so he breeds you

content warnings : SMUT (18+) minors dni, pnv sex - unprotected (be safe kids), breeding kink, soft!dom miguel, obsessive!miguel, no use of Y/N, fem!reader word count : 3,2k

tag list : @fandom-ash @haradasaya

Miguel was on his way to see you. He'd heard that you were back from your mission and that everything had gone well, so he'd come to get you to take you out for lunch.

He was taking advantage of the little free time he had to visit you, even though he would obviously pass this visit off as work-related in everyone's eyes. He had to always, always remain professional and keep everything under control so that everybody could do their bit.

"Six?!" asked Jess, the word choking in her throat.

Well, you were indeed back with Jess.

"Mhm, six," you affirmed as you both busied yourselves filing a report.

What were they talking about? He leaned against a wall. He knew it wasn't very polite to eavesdrop, but the word got around here. Most of society's building had cameras, and everything that was often said or done was recorded here.

He just wanted to listen to you, wondering if there were any topics of conversation that you weren't having with him and with the other spiders. Yes, he was manic, and probably a little too obsessive.

In any case, he wondered what you could have said to Jessica to make her exclaim like that.

"The more the merrier," you laughed softly.

"I hate this sentence so much," sighed Jess.

"Why so?" your voice was sincerely interrogative.

"In this context, it's really not my preferred idiom one might say," she replied as Miguel heard her tapping on a pad to enter more information.

What on earth could they be talking about? he wondered. What subject could suggest that six was far too high a number for Jess's judgement? He knew that Jess was an oragnised woman like himself, with a lot of tact and a fair amount of authority.

Was it perhaps a consecutive number of days doing an activity? Six days of marathon running might have been a bit much, but six days' holiday was never too much. He breathed in very softly, it had been years since he'd had time for such a thing. Did you want to take him on a holiday? If so, the number of days was inordinate. He would never be able to get away from his work for more than three days.

Maybe it was something else then. What was too much in Jess's mind with six?

Six empanadas perhaps? Miguel would obviously disagree. You can never have enough empanada for his taste. But Jess would probably disapprove.

Six... Six pets? It's true that having six pets might be a bit of an exaggeration, at least in Miguel's eyes of course.

Perhaps six books? No, that didn't make sense. Although Jess wasn't a huge reader, she did have a book in her hands from time to time.

So what was it? He was intrigued, that's for sure.

"You know, in my opinion, one kid is already way too much to handle," she sighed, "but six ? Nah, that's some good way of ending your life while still being alive."

But Miguel had barely heard the rest of the sentence, his mind having been caught by a single word: kid. He immediately froze, his heart skipping a beat.

Kid, like... children ? Like, actual human beings ? Small human beings ?

His eyes were wide, his mouth parted. No, he must not have heard correctly, although he dreamed that it was indeed that word that had been uttered.

"Why not? Surrounding ourselves with life is good," you said softly. "I'd love to see six little heads running around. I want three of each, three girls and three boys."

He wasn't mistaken: the discussion was really about the number of children you wanted. Six, he thought, six, six, the word echoing in his mind. He put both his hands on his hips, as if to hold on to something.

He pictured you, your rounded belly, stroking the hair of a child, your child, his child... both your children.

He swallowed, however, as another, immensely more tantalising vision took hold of his mind.

The vision of your cunt, glistening with your desire as from between its lips dripped little by little his own cum, his own seed leaking from you, your belly full of him...

It made his dick twitch for a hot second, and he couldn't remove that image, he didn't want to get rid of that image. The idea that your belly could be full of him, that he could breed you until he had no strength left was magnificent.

"What an egalitarian spirit," Jess noted wryly, "Well, it's all in order."

His thoughts were riveted on the image. He could almost hear in his own mind the sweet melody your moans would make as he came inside you again.

No, it was now impossible for him to think about anything else, he told himself that maybe he shouldn't be thinking about this. Except it's a well-known fact that if you tell someone not to think about something, they'll think about it.

He knew what breeding was, obviously, but what about you? Did you even have a clue what it was?

He tried to pull himself together, he had to either leave here or come towards you and pretend to come naturally. Would he be able to hold it together and act as if nothing had happened? Did he really have a choice in the matter after all? He breathed in, tightening his jaw as he decided to come towards you.

He walked purposefully, his usual grumpy face set surprisingly naturally as he advanced towards you.

"Ah, you're back," he sighed as if pleasantly surprised to see you both here, "how was the mission?"

"Excellent," Jess affirmed, "we've just finished the report, the anomaly has been taken care of as it should have been since we arrived."

He nodded, his serious face opening a control pad to check what she was saying and opening the file in question, pretending to read its contents. He had the impression that everywhere he looked the image came right back to him, on every tile, on every screen, everywhere in his mind.

"That's good work," he breathed.

"Damn right," nodded Jess. " Well, I'm off to join my own little demon, take care you two."

"See ya," you replied as she headed for the exit.

He wondered by what superhuman strength he managed to remain unwavering and stoic.

You moved closer to him, hugging his back and comforting yourself in the embrace.

"How was your day?" you asked, squeezing him in your arms.

Unwavering and stoic, Miguel, you have to remain unwavering and stoic.

You put your hands on his body, and with one touch his concentration was simply wiped out.

He turned to you, smiling a strange, uncertain smile as he stroked your hair, a little tense.

"You know how it is, just a lot of work," but his eyes were watching yours strangely, a flash of a vision where they were filled with desire looking back at him.

You studied him for a moment, noticing how distracted he seemed, his eyes looking at you in a strange way. You could feel a kind of desire there, a kind of longing, but you couldn't work out what it was.

"Is... everything alright?"

He shuddered, obviously his little show wasn't going to last much longer. He broke away from your embrace, he couldn't keep looking at you like that.

"Hey," you said softly, "you know you can tell me everything, right?"

Could I tell you this ? he wondered. He looked at you for a moment, another flash of you all moaning and covered in hickeys and marks on your body as you breathed his name. He looked away, closing his eyes in the hopes the flashes would stop.

"I'm afraid I cannot speak about this..."

But how he wanted to speak about this, to tell you how much he wanted to fuck you until you were full of him, until the only thing present in your mouth was his name and how much he wanted to see the sight of your round belly.

But you wouldn't listen to his silence. So you walked over to him and took his hand.

"Miguel, look at me. you asked, and he looked at you, his visions mingling with the reality where you were looking at him, worried. "Tell me."

He sighed. He couldn't run away from his ideas forever, run away from these images that he wanted to see in reality and not just in his mind. He wanted to raise his idea from the theoretical to the practical, and it was with an almost guilty breath that he admitted:

"I want to breed you."

There was a slight silence, his eyes plunged into yours, desperate to know what you were thinking. But above all he was met with confusion.

"What's breeding?" You had an idea of the term, usually used animalistically for the subject of... reproduction and maintenance of species. But just to be on the safe side with Miguel, you preferred to ask him anyway.

His lungs swelled like sails, did he really have to go through this?

"Why don't you ask Lyla what it is?" he suggested.

"Because I want to hear it from you, with your words" you assured him, your tone a mixture of strictness and curiosity.

He sighed, biting the inside of his cheek, slightly afraid of your reaction. You were practically hanging on his every word, waiting for him to explain.

"Breeding is... the act of a male and a female animal having sex, also known as mating, to reproduce..." he explained, pausing, "and procreate."

Your eyes widened slightly, and the possibility that he had overheard your previous conversation with Jess came to mind. All the same, you looked at him almost inscrutably, and he couldn't work out what you were thinking.

But now that the words had been said, he could no longer hide, no, he no longer had to hide. His thoughts were finally out, burning on his skin and lips.

He moved forward a little more, his gaze suddenly darkened by the desires he was no longer hiding.

"I want to fill you up with my cum and make sure you get pregnant."

Your lips were parted, your surprised eyes looking into his, black with desire and longing. A silence filled the air, both your hearts beating loudly in both your bodies. Miguel waited for an answer, unaware of the warm cloud that had settled in your lower belly.

He chuckled a little, an understanding smile gracing his lips as he said:

"See, your silence tells me enoug-"

"Breed me," you cut him off.

He stopped moving immediately, the statement immobilising him just like when he had understood what you and Jess were talking about.

Had his mind and his fantasies come together to play tricks on him? Or had you actually agreed with what he'd just said?

"What?" he said, his pronunciation almost slurred as he turned his attention to your next words.

"Breed me, Miguel" you repeated, determined as you swallowed in anticipation. "I want to carry you... in me."

The gleam in his eyes was almost predatory, but after all, wasn't that the very essence of breeding? The raw nature of it, the bestiality, the quenching of the oldest instinct that ever was.

You only had time to see his eyes turn red as he lunged for your lips, kissing you with his mouth wide open as your teeth almost clashed and he attacked your tongue.

The power with which he kissed you made you take a step backwards, but you weren't going anywhere, because Miguel immediately placed his hand in the small of your back to make sure he had you close to him.

He let out grunts between kisses, his hunger for your skin lengthening his canines as they brushed almost dangerously against your tongue.

Then he lifted you in one swift movement, placing you on his shoulder as he headed for the door leading to his quarters, his impatience growing faster than ever. You bit your lip, already swollen from his kisses, his hand gripping your thigh firmly as he led you to the bed.

He laid you down, following every movement of your body as he kissed you again. He stood back for a moment, watching your body.

"Do you have sentimental value for your suit?"

"What?" you asked, confused by the sudden question.

"Just answer," he asked through clenched teeth.

"I mean it's old but I can live withou-"

You hadn't even finished your sentence when he ripped off your suit with an ease that sent shivers down your spine, ripping the fabric covering your cunt, tearing your panties and throwing all the rags into the rest of the room.

"No questions about the sentimental value of my underwear?" you laugh lightly.

"I'll get you some new ones," he breathed, a carnivorous sneer inhabiting his lips, "I'll take great care in chosing them."

You swallowed as he kissed your neck, nestling in and marking your skin with thirst. He straightened to kiss your lips, and whispered against them:

"Turn over, get down on your elbows and knees".

You complied, his instructions increasing the size of the cloud of heat in your belly. You placed your folded arms flat on the sheets, your knees slightly apart.

"Lift your hips for me, nena," he commanded in a tone as soft as cotton.

You listened, arching your back as you lifted your hips, your ass gloriously up just for him to fuck. He swallowed, his hand coming to grip one of your buttocks and pulling it apart, pressing it between his fingers and gripping your skin full hand.

"Already so good and wet for me," he mused, one of his fingers passing between your folds.

Of course you were already wet, the way he had introduced the concept to you making you all fuzzy and warm in your belly. You'd never been against the idea of Miguel being a bit more violent, and to be honest you were excited by the idea of him being so from now on.

Once he'd coated himself sufficiently, he pushed one finger into you, soft moans falling from your lips filling the room. He added another one, and your lust was growing by the second. You were getting impatient too, but you couldn't help noticing that Miguel simply couldn't wait any longer.

Miguel was always very keen about taking his time, preparing you well apart from the few moments when one of you needed a quicky, but here eagerness was getting the better of him, and above all his most instinctive desires buried deep inside him had taken the reigns of all his actions.

The thought of him being in you through your core made him feel so drunk on you. These ideas had already been marinating in his mind for a while, it had only taken this conversation between you and Jess to flip the switch. And he observed in adoration, seeing you like this, underneath him with your much smaller frame, sitting up and ready to take him.

"Hands behind your back."

His orders became more and more urgent, his tone wavering with envy. It was impossible for him to formulate a whole sentence.

So you laid your face on the sheets, cheek pressed to your side as you brought your hands behind your back, joining your wrists together like you were imagining yourself handcuffed. You shivered as his hand, whose fingers had previously been inside you, reached out from between your folds and took both your wrists at the same time, locking them in this embrace. His hand was obviously big enough to hold both your wrists together and prevent you from breaking free from his grip.

He had locked you completely.

He had blocked out any possibility of you making a move other than squirming around him. Miguel would never tire of this control, this hold he had over you right now. You were his, nobody else's, and he would let eveybody know this by fucking his seed into you and get as many babies as you wanted.

That's when you felt the head of his dick coating itself with your juices, preparing to burry himself into you. You couldn't see Miguel like this, but you could hear him. Dark growls vibrated in his throat, deeper than you'd ever heard them before, and it felt intimidating.

He thrust, pushing his tip into you, and you let out a groan of relief that sank into the fabric of the sheets. You breathed softly, letting Miguel's thick, long cock sink into you. No matter how many times you had done it, taken him like that, you still couldn't get used to it.

His lower belly finally touched the skin of your ass, his dick deep inside you. And you felt him pressing against your stomach. You knew that if you brought one of your hands to your stomach, you'd feel the shape of his cock against your skin.

He was so deep in you, an almost bestial growl escaped him as he slowly began to pull back before thrusting in hard.

You let out a little cry of surprise and pleasure that echoed around the room, and he repeated the same gesture. He kept bearing down on you until he touched your slick on his lower belly and pulling away, pushing back in the next second until it'd touch his balls.

Your body was burning, unable to do anything but arch your back more and groan. Your hands were gripping the void, and the impossibility of finding a foothold in all this was making you feel out of control. But you were enjoying the sensations he was giving you, and so was he.

He listened to the symphony of your voice as he picked up the pace, the feeling of your gummy walls wrapping all tight and warm around him was absolute perfection to him.

He knew it wouldn't be long before his first cum would hit, but he needn't have worried. Miguel could go on for a long, long time, and he just hoped that you could keep up, although he had no doubt that his best girl would live up to his expectations.

He could no longer string a sentence together properly, the words he was trying to whisper as he sank deep inside you coming out as if chewed up by his long fangs.

He grunted, his rhythm and the tilt of your two bodies giving you both exceptional sensations. The knot in your stomach tightened, threatening to burst as Miguel came closer.

And the world stopped spinning for a second.

You came together, your walls closing spasmodically around him as you felt him spill into you. Because that's what you wanted, right ? That's the one thing you desired, and he was going to give it to you entirely.

He pulled out, just for the pleasure of seeing the work he had so long dreamed of seeing. And the satisfaction was superb, his white creamy cum slowly pouring out of your wet cunt, still pulsing with desire.

A dark laugh rose from his throat as he sank back into you and you let out a startled moan. He lowered himself, his lips pressing against your ear.

"I hope you thought of six names."

It would be a long, long night.

[moon7jay]

Gangbang?

okay since u didn't specify let me make this as a gang bang for hyung line specifically.

Shared Girlfriend : (Hyung Line)

Warnings : cum eating, spit, gang bang? I guess that's all.

This is my first work so I'd really love any kind of feedback and please forgive me for any mistakes <3

Heeseung knew he should not be making out with u in front of his members. He also knew that the dorm was no longer a safe place for you. He was a man after all, he could sense when jake tried to hide his boner everytime u got too close to him or sunghoon who couldn't look u in the eye and settled with staring at ur boobs while u talked animatedly with him and Jay who would leave subtle touches on your body, hands lingering far too long at times, all of which, u were too innocent to notice. Heeseung knew. But some sick part of him thrived in that, some twisted part of him imagined jake exchanging spit with u while he jerked off at nights, he wanted to watch u grinding on Jay's lap, wanted you to sit on sunghoon's face while u made out with heeseung, oh he was a sick sick man, but he couldn't help it. You were too sexy for your own good.

"Baby" he called out to you one night. You had just started drifting off to sleep when his voice disturbed your approaching slumber "yes hee? " you replied without opening your eyes.

"What do u feel about fucking my friends with me? "

Ok now that. That was enough to have ur eyes wide open, sleep long gone,sitting up to face your boyfriend with wide eyes.

"Heeseung what the fuck?" U exclaimed

He only chuckled "dont tell me you haven't thought about it sweetheart, I could feel your pussy clenching on my dick when Jay walked in on us fucking"

Ur face flamed red with embarrassment and shame remembering that day and how turned on u had gotten when u saw how hard Jay had been watching u two fuck like animals.

"Cat got ur tongue?" Heeseung asked grinning like he caught u in a crime. He was a sick sick man who was trying to manipulate u into a fuck with his friends by using ur guilt against you while u will never have a clue that catching Jay palming himself while watching u two had made him instantly cum inside of u.

"S-so what u r saying is a threesome with Jay? " U hesitantly asked, biting your lower lip as the mere thought of having Jay's rough hands on your body aroused u to no end.

Heeseung chuckled and shook his head

"No baby, a fivesome, with all of them"

Well shit.

If someone told you that one day you would be bouncing on jay's cock while jake fucked your throat and sunghoon jerked off with your boyfriend, you would have laughed in their face.

But this was very real. The pleasure running through your body was very real. U moaned around Jake's cock when jay's thrust started to get frantic.

"Take him just like that baby, just like that" Jake groaned from above you,holding your face and using it like his own fleshlight while u gagged and choked on his cock, tears running down your face.

"Fuck her harder Jay or are u not man enough?" Heeseung panted from where he was sitting, his cock throbbing in his hand. The words were enough for Jay to pull out of you and flip u over, leaving Jake's cock throbbing while he folded u in half in a mating press and beat ur insides raw with his cock.

"Sorry man- Jay groaned looking at jake - gotta cum so deep in this pussy"

U moaned jay's name like a prayer as his thrusts got sloppy. Your eyes rolling back in ur head "oh-oh my god I can't" u screamed in ecstasy.

"Oh fuck yeah" He moaned "gonna breed your cunt-fuck- waited so long"

giving 3 more deep thrusts inside ur cunt he let his pleasure wash over himself, filling the cunt he'd been dreaming of to the brim. Your pussy clenching around him like crazy as you came all over his cock with a pornographic moan "shit shit shit" he groaned as u felt too good for his cock.

You were only beginning to come down from your high when you felt jake pushing Jay out of you and instantly fill your cunt with his own cock "Move man, I'm so close but I gotta do it in her pussy" He panted, too impatient to wait for you to come back to ur senses, your swollen pussy too inviting to resist. He'd been jerking off to u screaming on jay's cock and he was almost on the edge of a mind blowing orgasm.

U started crying from the overstimulation as jake started ramming himself inside of you,hitting your cervix again and again, brows furrowed as he looked down at your heaving body

"Such good pussy - he panted - no wonder heeseung's always inside of you"

"She's tight as fuck tho, need more fucking don't you whore? " Heeseung spoke rubbing his cock all over your face. U didn't realize when he got up from the couch and came on to the bed. As if muscle memory worked too fast, you stuck your tongue out for him

"Fuck yeah, you wanna take it in your throat yeah? Suck on a cock while u get rammed by one? " He asked mockingly, starting to push into ur mouth

You nodded dumbly as u let out a loud moan when jake came inside of you with a hard thrust "fucking hell" he moaned as he pulled out of your dripping cunt. He watched in awe as his and jay's cum leaked out of you.

"U gotta come and taste some of this pussy hoon, it's extra juicy for u holy shit" Jay said as he peered over jake to watch your abused and pulsating hole leak.

Just as u started deep throating heeseung's cock, u felt a tongue lapping up at your pussy. U figured it was sunghoon since jake and Jay were fisting their cocks, their eyes on your body getting used for pleasure.

"Ugh u feel so good baby, been so long since I fucked your fucking mouth" heeseung moaned. Your tears ran down your cheeks, your face covered in spit and you moaned as u felt sunghoon humming with your clit in his mouth.

"Tastes so good wanna stay in between your thighs forever" Sunghoon groaned between your folds, his tongue lapping up at your juices with a vigorous pace.

Your back arched as you felt him enter u in a single thrust, too impatient to warn you.

he was big, bigger than all the cocks you had taken in the past hours. Your nails scratched at heeseung's thighs,who was busy panting and thrusting into ur throat, his head falling back,mouth open in pleasure. U were trying to get away from sunghoon's monster cock but two big hands held your hips in place "don't want me inside? " Sunghoon asked as he bullied his cock into your swollen cunt with a groan, your tight walls struggling to accommodate him, his mind swimming in pleasure "too bad u got nowhere to run baby, gonna fuck all my pent up lust into this cunt tonight" he groaned as u clenched around him at his words. Above you heeseung's orgasm approached and he started fucking ur mouth with abandon. "Oh yeah, oh yeah so good, fuck her hoon, wanna see ur bulge in her stomach holy fuck" He panted. You moaned and screamed on his cock while sunghoon started ramming in your pussy, the stretch was painful for you but the pleasure outweighed everything else.

You heard heeseung curse and jake and jay's groan as sunghoon took your hand and placed it on ur stomach "feel that whore? That's me deep inside of you"

Your pussy clenched and the pressure in your lower belly snapped as you came all over sunghoon's cock, squirting all over the place

"Fuck"

"Shit that's so hot"

"Fuck yeah man"

U did not know who said what but heeseung came into ur mouth shortly after that, too lost in the pleasure

"Don't swallow" Jake warned you and u dutifully obeyed him as heeseung pulled out of your mouth.

Sunghoon hovered over your body, your hands came up to dig into his shoulders,god he was so much bigger than you. You could already feel yourself cum again just by looking at his fucked out expression and lustful gaze on you.

"Kiss her hoon, come on bro, give us a show" Heeseung spoke from somewhere and that's all you heard before sunghoon's tongue was moving into your mouth, lips engulfing yours, sharing heeseung's cum with each other as he started thrusting into your cunt with a new fervor.

"Shit holy fuck" someone exclaimed and you felt cum splatter over your thighs. Probably jake Or Jay Or heeseung. You did not know but at this point u did not even care as you were nothing but a cum dump for the four boys. Your body nothing but a means to their pleasure.

Sunghoon sucked on your tongue as his thrusts became frantic and sloppy. He burried his face in the crook of your neck as your nails dug into his back and he kept hitting your cervix like a madman. In and out. In and out. In and out. That's what man and woman were supposed to do right? In and out. Cock and pussy.

He bit on your shoulder as your back arched off the bed "fuck me sunghoon please oh my god" You screamed as your orgasm washed over you, your clenches sending sunghoon over the edge. You heard curses all around u and inside ur ear as sunghoon filled your pussy with his cum. That's all you remember as your vision blacked out with pleasure, your body too exhausted by being used so ruthlessly for hours.

You should do this more often, you thought as u drifted off to deep slumber.

[k-hotchoisan]

from the back

<Wooyoung x fem!reader>

part two of 🔥to the side🔥

where Wooyoung finally gets to fuck you so good

Taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie @pre1ttyies @hwallazia @songmingisthighs

Genre/Warnings: pervDILF!Wooyoung, smut, sexual tension, backshots, dirty talk, cream pies, orgasms, alcohol consumption, Wooyoung drinks but he keeps it within the limit because he’s driving y/n home (please do not drink and drive)

Needless to say, you were holding up pretty well, despite the countless times you squeezed your thighs when Wooyoung’s hands slid too close to your cunt. It was still driving you crazy from how full you felt. Your plate was half cleared, because half of the time the feeling of how full your cunt is with Wooyoung’s cum made you want to just spread your legs and let his cum leak all over out of your pussy and onto your thighs and chair. Maybe you’d beg Wooyoung for forgiveness for letting his cum spill out of your poor pussy, and let Wooyoung breed you so full, over and over again until he was satisfied.

Fuck. It was driving you nuts. Alcohol was served during the dinner, and even without it, you felt your face flush.

Your thighs are still tightly pressed against each other from the feeling of his cum just ready to pour out of you if you made any sudden movements. It doesn’t help that Wooyoung has his eyes on you—watching you like a hawk. He’s good at keep his face neutral and poker, almost perfectly nonchalant as he takes a sip of water. You stand up, feeling your thighs shake slightly. Screw this. You decide to go to the kitchen for a breather. It’s the only reasonable place to escape to for now. Not mention, it was big as fuck anyway, no one would know if you hid in the balcony for a breath of fresh air.

Wooyoung casts you a side glance, deeply and sickeningly satisfied that you’re squirming because of him. But in all honesty, he plays the facade very well, because he knows, given any moment if he were to be stuck with you alone, god knows what the fuck he would do to you.

And when you’re missing for a few long minutes it’s when he decides to take the gamble. Nonetheless he was quite concerned that you’ve been missing in the kitchen for a while. Even your friend noticed.

“Where’s y/n?” She asks, swirling the wine glass in her hand, casting glances around the table when she finally realises that you’re missing.

Her brother is about to stand but Wooyoung is quick. He cuts his nephew off, taking his niece’s words cue to go off and find you. “I’ll go get her”, Wooyoung says coolly.

He plasters a smile at his nephew as he gently pushes him down back to his seat. “Enjoy the dinner. Your plate still looks pretty full.”

You hear footsteps approaching behind and your back immediately straightens, well, barely because you’re still feeling all over the place right now. You expect it to be your friend, but when you turn and your eyes land on Wooyoung with his loose polo shirt, a hand in his trousers and the other holding his wine glass. The sight is just making your face heat up even more.

“Are you doing okay?” He asks, joining you at the kitchen balcony. You can’t meet his eyes. You think you’d just combust if you did.

“Barely”, you reply, biting back another moan when you feel his cum about to seep past your folds again. It doesn’t go unnoticed by Wooyoung.

Wooyoung is insanely horny but he isn’t stupid. At least, not yet, he thinks. He would gladly take you right here and then, but he knows he’d enjoy it even more if he had you confined within his walls instead of here. He’s also not in the mood to ruin a happy occasion and a family relationship. At least, not yet.

“A little longer, darling”, he says, almost in a whisper. “Good girls get rewards.”

“Stop teasing me”, you pout, giving him a light slap on his shoulder. Wooyoung only laughs.

You glance at the glass he has in his hands. “Aren’t you driving? You shouldn’t drink too much.”

Wooyoung lifts the glass in his hand higher and tilts his head. “It’s my first glass for the night, and I’m not planning to down another.” He takes a step dangerously close to you. “Wouldn’t want to miss my plans with you later too. We’ll leave when I squeeze your thigh.”

Red flushes on your cheeks again, and you break eye contact, only for Wooyoung to shift your glance right back at him with a single flick of his wrist on your jaw.

“Uncle, what are you doing?” The voice snaps the trance the both of you were in. Your eyes dart to the intruder, who stands with crossed arms, staring daggers at the both of you.

Wooyoung doesn’t falter. He shoots his nephew a glance and slowly releases his fingers from your jaw and smiles curtly at his nephew.

“Just making sure she doesn’t throw up”, he replies, knowing that your eyes are widened and glaring daggers at Wooyoung. He turns back to you, amused by your expression before he messed your hair with his hands. “Let’s go”, he gestures to the both of you. He doesn’t miss his nephew furrowing his eyebrows, so he plays it off by messing his hair up to, and your friend’s brother running off after his uncle, berating him about messing his hair that he took hours to style. You release an exhale. You’re in the clear, at least for now.

It’s not evident to the rest of the dinner table except you, that Wooyoung is getting irritated by the way your friend’s brother keeps trying to get your attention, and that only makes you friend satisfied, as she only eggs him on to openly flirt with you.

Throughout the dinner, Wooyoung keeps topping up the other male’s wine, and he observes the way his nephew progressively gets more tipsy, encouraging him to have more since he was back in the country.

Midway through the conversations, you feel a gentle squeeze on your thigh. You glance over at Wooyoung who’s laughing at something his brother is saying. His hand trails higher up your thigh.

“I think I’ll take my leave now”, you say, slowly standing up. “Thank you for the dinner.” You walk over to your friend who gives you a tight hug.

“How are you going home? By cab? I’d ask my brother to send you home but Uncle Wooyoung made him drink quite a bit.”

Before you answer, Wooyoung cuts in, “I can send her back safely.”

Your friend’s father raises an eyebrow. “You sure you don’t want to stay a little longer?”

Wooyoung shakes his head with a smile. He goes over and gives his niece a hug before he hand hovers over the small of your back, as he leads you out of the estate.

The car ride back felt agonisingly slow. The anticipation was just surging through your veins, and evidently leaked into the atmosphere in the car with Wooyoung. Wooyoung still keeps his soft and light tone when he talks to you in the car, but it’s obvious he’s at his limit, especially from the way he’s gripping the steering wheel with force.

The moment you step in his penthouse, his fingers intertwine with yours, and your jaw drops at how fucking huge his place is for a singular person to reside in. His hand is warm against yours and you wonder what he’s thinking.

He leads you to his bedroom, and when the door shuts, Wooyoung immediately has you pressed against the shut door, trapping you with his body as he tilts your chin to face him.

“Fucking hell. I think I’ve waited long enough”, he hisses before he dives in for a messy kiss. You let yourself be claimed by him, raising your arms to let Wooyoung pull your clothing off your body, letting him admire at your bare chest. You feel like you’re at your limit from the way Wooyoung is teasing you—his hands tugging your pants off, but he doesn’t touch you there just yet. But he leads you over to his bed, letting you fall onto his plush bed.

“Look at your panties. Ruined by yours truly,” Wooyoung hums, tugging the piece of pink clothing, completely stained dark with cum and fluids, now almost transparent. When your panties are finally removed, a drawn out whine echoes around the room, your head throws back, and Wooyoung watches in breathlessly as his cum leaks out of you, load by load, listening to you moan in relief.

“I’ve been good. Kept your cum in my pussy like a good girl”, you whine, tugging against your wet folds, thighs twitching as Wooyoung’s cum continues to spill out of your hole. Wooyoung plunges two fingers into you, pushing his cum back into your pussy, and it makes you flex your abdomen from the pleasure.

He smiles.

“Indeed you have, darling. So well-behaved”, he hums, as his hand brushes against your cheek, swallowing hard when you lean your face into it, staring at him with kitten eyes.

He’s so fucking weak for that. So he pushes his fingers deeper in you, drinking every single fucked out expression you wear. Oh god, he wants to break you so bad. Wooyoung’s fingers press against your g-spot, and your hands clasp onto his veiny, muscled arm, as you jerk with a gasp. Wooyoung tilts his head back slightly, and he wears a smirk when he feels you clench around his fingers.

Then he curls his fingers in you as he finger fucks you, making sure he draws out every dirty moan out of you.

“Wooyoung! Oh fuck. Right there”, your hands slip off his arm, back now completely on his bed letting yourself succumb to the pleasure.

“I know, baby. Feels good doesn’t it?” Wooyoung coos, watching your body jerk from the pleasure. “Look at you, fucking yourself on my fingers too”, he teases. And he’s right—you don’t realise when you even let your hips snap against his wet fingers, but at this point, shame is the last thing you’re worrying about.

The feeling builds so dangerously quick that soon enough, you completely let go, letting your jaw hang open as your orgasm hits, your cunt fluttering and your mind flooded with dopamine as moans leak out of your mouth freely like your cum.

“That’s it”, he encourages, applying light pressure on your clit with his thumb, feeling you convulse around him. “Good girl. Cum on my fingers like that. Dirty them for me just like that.” Your eyes are shut, your mind completely turned into mush.

Wooyoung pulls his fingers out of you slowly, watching the way your eyes slowly open as you catch your breath. At that moment is when you catch the way Wooyoung is eyeing you down, licking your glistening release from his fingers.

“Fuck me, darling. If I had known you tasted this good, I would have stolen the panties you keep in your little friend’s room when I came over for dinners”, Wooyoung sighs.

“Pervert”, you mutter, although the thought of him rubbing his cock onto the fabric, making it as wet and as dirty as possible, and leaving his cum stains all over your pretty little panties makes your cunt flutter.

“No better than you are, darling”, he shoots you back playfully when he watches your cheeks turn red, as he inches closer to you onto his bed, capturing your lips with his.

And you completely surrender to him, melting into the kiss that tasted more than just desire and lust. Wooyoung’s hands slide to the back of your neck to pull you as physically close to him as possible.

You pull back, breathless a few seconds later, a small prick blooming in your heart as the reminder that this man is your friend’s uncle sticking out like sore thumb at the back of your hand. You knew it was wrong to do this to your friend. What would happen if she found out then? What kind of repercussions would there be? Wooyoung senses the slight shift, and has his hands cup your cheek, and your eyes focus on his handsome face again.

“What are you distracted about, darling?” He asks, concern reflected in his expression. “Do you want to stop?”

You shake your head instinctively. “It’s just.…”

“-that I’m your friend’s relative?”

You bite your lip.

“But we’re both consenting adults, aren’t we? I can’t help it if every time I see you, I just want to make sure that you’re only looking at me.”

Oh gods, he was making your head spin.

“It’s just that it’s making me have a lot of thoughts”, you mutter, your hands toying with the bedsheets. Wooyoung plants a firm kiss behind your ear, before he leans into you and whispers, “then I’ll fuck the thoughts right out of you darling”, Wooyoung assures with smile, then he turns you over, now your stomach on the mattress. You hear him unbuckle his trousers, and your heart beats in your ears.

“I’ll take good care of you. I can definitely promise that”, he assures, letting his hands run down your sides, leaving goosebumps across your skin. He gives the nape of your neck a kiss before you feel his very hard erection pressing against the curve of your ass. You can’t see it but his cock is just wet with precum, but you hear the sounds he makes as he strokes himself before he presses his cockhead at your entrance.

Then he slides his cock in, inch by inch, so fucking good that you’re gasping and drooling. His cock fits in you so well, and even though he fucked you just hours before, he feels so different now.

“You’re so fucking thick. Fuck”, you curse, your eyebrows scrunched. Wooyoung chuckles behind you, trying to hold his composure as he watches your pussy stretch perfectly to accommodate him, as he sinks deeper into you. It doesn’t take long till he’s completely in you, and you’re drawing shallow breaths from how full you feel, his cock just resting in you.

“Gonna move now, darling”, he says, giving your ass a soft squeeze before he pulls back and thrusts in again, and a squeal leaves your lips. He’s definitely fucking every single thought out of you tonight, and you weren’t about to complain.

Every time his hips slam into you, you grow slightly light headed from the pleasure. Wooyoung has his hands grabbing your hips as he fucks you into the mattress, groaning himself as he watches you fuck his cock. “Fuck. You’re so fucking perfect, baby”, he groans, watching you swallow his cock in once more.

“So good. Keep fucking me like that, Wooyoungie”, you cry, feeling his cock grow bigger in you.

“That’s a cute nickname you’re giving me”, he smirks, biting back another moan when he feels you clench around him again. “I swear you’re gonna make me cum at this rate with how cute you’re acting.”

“Then do it. You promised me right?” You pout, and then jerk with your eyes rolled back when his cockhead presses onto your g-spot again. Wooyoung swears you could drive him insane just with the shit you say.

His cock twitches in you and another soft moan escapes from you.

“I’m cumming, baby. Fuck”, Wooyoung curses as he forcefully shuts his eyes, white spots splattering beneath his eyelids and cum filling you up again. You whimper softly as he fills you up, fisting the bedsheets beneath you as your body shakes. You could get addicted to this, you swear.

You almost lose feeling in your lower body, but Wooyoung catches you, littering your neck with more kisses once more before he sits you on his lap.

That’s when you realise—he’s still fucking hard. His cock is still covered in a sheer white layer of cum. His hands slide up and down your thighs, giving them squeezes.

“Sit on my dick, baby. You know you want to”, he coaxes, assisting you in lifting your hips over his cock. You’re completely entranced by Wooyoung’s expression and you slowly sink onto his cock—he looks as fucked out as you are, and so fucking beautiful. He sucks his teeth at the sensation of being deeper into your warm, cum-filled pussy.

“One more load to go, baby”, Wooyoung hums as he cups your breasts, giving them circular licks with his tongue, making your cunt leak another layer of fresh slick once more. Your arms wrap around his neck, tugging against his hair as he licks and sucks your nipples.

“Wooyoung, please-“ you cry out, only to be ignored as he switches to the other nipple, making sure he stimulates you to his liking. He finally pulls back, licking his lips. His eyes are glazed out, fucking horny from the feeling that he’s seated inside you, sensitive and overstimulated.

And when you start bouncing on his cock, his jaw slacks, his fingers finding yours to intertwine with. “So fucking good. You’re so warm baby. Oh my fucking god”, he groans, squeezing your hand. This position granted easier access to your g-spot and Wooyoung watches you wordlessly as you chase the feeling of his cockhead hitting that perfect spot over and over again.

“Gonna cum. Your cock feels so good, Wooyoungie,” you whimper, at one point pushing your hips down and slightly grinding to have his cockhead just rub against your g-spot, which evidently drives Wooyoung up the wall when he throws his head back and lifts his hips by instinct.

When he barely gains an ounce of rationale, he moans, “cum all over my cock, baby. Oh fuck. Such a good fucking girl you are for me.” And you do, clamping against his cock as your orgasm hits you for the second time, with Wooyoung holding your thighs down, watching you squirm and twitch as your orgasm sends you into a fucking orbit. Wooyoung can’t help but cum in you once more when the feeling of your pussy fluttering around him, which causes you to squeal and lift yourself off his cock, cum and fluids just trickling out of your abused hole and onto Wooyoung’s cock.

You don’t have time to react before Wooyoung cups you by your jaw and brings you in for a steamy kiss again, his hand snaking around your ass to give it a good squeeze before he lets go.

His eyes are as blown out as yours are, but he still manages to ask, “you doing good, darling?”

You nod, combing his wet bangs back, the both of you catching your breaths from your high.

“Time for a shower, baby”, Wooyoung says, lifting you off him completely, before he takes your hand in his to lead you to the bathroom.

Wooyoung’s arms are curled around your waist and he buries his nose into your neck, breathing deeply at the fact that you smell like his shampoo. It almost makes him horny again. Almost.

The thought of your friend and her brother pops into your brain again, but gets muddled when you hear Wooyoung groan softly before he gets pulled into slumber.

Well, that’ll be a problem for another day when Wooyoung comes around to your friend’s house. But you make a mental note to keep more pretty panties over for Wooyoung to steal the next round.

[crescentofthegods]

ALL TOO FAMILIAR!

pairing: harry potter x fem!reader

request: cormac gets a little too touchy, but harry finds you just in time.

word count: 2,084

warnings: FLUFF, angsty bc cormac is a DOUCHE, cormac being weird creepy touchy etc, few swear words, not proofread!!, (lowkey suck at warnings pls tell me if i've missed anything)

author's note: OH MY GOODNESSSSS i haven't uploaded anything for like two years straight i sincerely apologise to all of my followers please forgive me. i also apologise to the anon who sent me this request bc i took so long to freaking answer it😭😭😭 feel like this is RUBBISH but i hope you all enjoy! xx

taglist: @floweringrott ♡

more harry potter | masterlist | navigation

THE GREAT LIBRARY had always been a solace to those who required it. Especially to you, who found comfort in the smell of parchment since Hogwarts’ supply seemed to always be fresh. The quiet lull of the area managed to put you in a state of peace too, the way everyone’s voices resounded to whispers and murmurs rather than loud babbles of laughter. There was nothing wrong with laughing, of course—it just happened to be distracting. You were actually waiting for someone, both of you having the intention to study. In front of you was your Potions revision; you were simply making notes on Everlasting Elixirs, taking your ideas from your copy of Advanced Potion Making. Crumbs of strawberry cheesecake lingered on your tongue since you had come straight from lunch, eager to get these done for Slughorn so you could finally rest. Your fingers were clasped around your favourite quill, your spare hand keeping your parchment still as you quickly wrote down every thought your mind was firing at you—

            “There you are!” a voice snapped you out of your reverie, your body going slightly rigid, reluctantly lifting your gaze to see the last person you wanted to converse with. “I’ve been looking all over for you…”

            He never gets the hint, McLaggen. Always stalking following you, always standing outside every room you exit, always loitering too close whenever you’re trying to get back to your House—never taking no for an answer. Everyone knew you as the quiet girl, rarely taking part in things like extracurriculars or school clubs. For the life of you, you could not figure out why Cormac had suddenly become… interested.

            You kept to yourself just because it was a personal preference, you barely had any friends—you were a loner.

            And that was how you liked it. Being a people person had never been your thing entirely.

            But, Cormac didn’t seem to get that.

            “Really?” you replied, your tone almost resembling the bored purrs of your very own tabby cat, who was probably lounging around in your dorm, messing up your pillows…

            How you wished you could be in her position right now.

            “Yeah…? You sound so unsurprised,” he bit his bottom lip, the light of his green eyes dimming when he noticed how quickly you stood up. You almost felt bad… Though, you remembered the way he disgustingly pursued Hermione Granger a few moons back and, fleetingly, shook all feelings of regret from your body; Cormac McLaggen was a creep.

            “Haha, right…” A half-assed chuckle escaped you, clearing your throat as you shoved the remnants of your work into the new satchel messenger bag you bought before beginning sixth year. Discerning the dire, hardened gaze of Cormac falling upon you never failed to make you shudder inside; his eyes were always so intense. So scrutinising. So… unnecessary?

            “So, uh… Potions,” Cormac began, attempting to look unbothered at the sight of you slinging your bag off your shoulder. “Wait—are you leaving already?” A sigh stumbled from your lips, your fingers moving to tuck the shorter strands (the ones that fell from your ponytail) behind the broad space of your ear, praying to Merlin himself for an escape route.

            “Yeah, um, my cat—well, she…” Kill me now. “She’s… alone in my room,” you tried to explain, pushing your chair under the desk you sit at on a regular basis, refusing to even glance Cormac’s way. “And she probably misses me—” His scoff interrupted you, your eyes flitting towards his expression, seeing the smugness in his bemused smile—what the fuck?

            “Your old, moody cat, the one that slumps around every window seat she can find, misses you?” Cormac laughed, his hand cradling his chest like he found himself funny. “This is the first time I’ve heard an excuse like that.” All you did was furrow your eyebrows, confused as to what he was implying.

            “Are you… insulting my cat?” You asked, genuinely perturbed because of his peculiar behaviour. Perhaps you were being a little peculiar yourself, but was this Cormac’s way of flirting? It made no sense whatsoever. Anyhow, your words seemed to knock some sense into the Gryffindor, regret latching onto his countenance. You were quick to turn away, murmuring an almost noiseless ‘excuse me’, speeding walking out of the library like nothing had happened.

            Legs moving as fast as they could, Cormac was right after you—he, annoyingly, had quite the Beater’s build. 

            “Wait! I’m sorry—I wasn’t insulting your bloody cat!” He always seemed to persist, much to your misfortune; Merlin, he was thick in the head. When you turned your head back around, you almost tripped, unable to comprehend how he caught up to you in seconds. “I-I was just saying that your excuse for leaving was rubbish—”

            “I’m just busy, alright, McLaggen?” you brushed him off, trying to muster up a polite smile, but it vanished from your face immediately when Cormac grabbed your arm, roughly pulling you back—a spasm of pain shot up your arm and whilst it only lasted for a moment, it still caused you to freeze, the light in your eyes disappearing entirely.

            The light in his brightened.

            “You don’t seem busy,” Cormac mumbled, his digits firm and enclosed around your flesh like a vice, your gaze lifting to his once again. Why were you always looking up? It made you feel… wrong. Like you were submitting yourself to him. McLaggen.

            He would like that, wouldn’t he?

            “McLaggen,” you said his name, your voice quiet; an eerie sort of quiet. He didn’t say anything, studying you for a moment. Suddenly, you wanted the laughter of those pestering first years, the bellows of the fourth year boys, the giggles of the third year girls to wrap around you like a blanket—you would prefer any sort of noise over the gratingly abnormal silence wafting over the empty hallway.

            The one time I don’t want to be alone.

            “You’re still calling me McLaggen? I thought we were way past formalities,” he uttered (moreso questioned), the Gryffindor’s expression changing to one of irritance, his jaw ticking as he tried to maintain his smile. He looked like he was about to barf all over his new fancy boots his father got him.

            Whatever his father’s name was.

            “Uh… No,” you retorted quite bluntly, irritation overwhelming your expression in response. Who did he think he was? “Now, if you could please let go—”

            “I don’t understand what the problem is, though,” he interjected, again, his perplexity at the situation making you want to explode as you opened your mouth to speak, but Cormac was faster. “I just want to talk. We’re having a conversation and you just walk away?” His grip tightened minutely, but it was enough to make you wince, pain submerging your irritation away.

            “Ow—Cormac, you’re hurting me,” you struggled to remain confident, feeling a sense of dread engulfing your body, your mind, your soul.

            This position was all too familiar. That same thundercloud hovering over your heart, waiting to strike where it hurt the most. Even though it was protected by your lungs, your ribs, your flesh—the thunderclaps were enough to compel the chambers of your core to quake.

            “Oh, don’t be daft,” he mumbled, rejecting your plea. “You’ll live.”

            “Listen, we can talk, but can you just let go—”

            “She said let go.”

            An abrupt, deep voice broke the uncomfortable tension between you and Cormac, his grasp loosening perceptibly since he was caught. Inhaling sharply, you took your chance to rip your arm away from him completely, stepping back, rubbing your arm as your eyes stayed downcast.

            Calm down, calm down, calm down—

            “Potter.” What? Hearing Cormac’s one-word mutter led you to look towards the source of the original voice, your eyebrows crinkling in relief when you saw him.

            Harry.

            You were supposed to meet someone in the library… That someone was Harry. During the course of the year, you had been struggling to keep up with Slughorn’s lessons and Harry, kind as always, offered to help you (you didn’t know about his little cheat notes from the Half-Blood Prince and he intended to keep it that way). However, you had left early because of Cormac… prompting Harry to go look for you.

            “Thank Merlin,” you breathed, your lips pressing together when Cormac turned towards him.

            “We were just talking,” he ‘clarified’, but his words fell on deaf ears.

            “Didn’t look like it,” Harry said simply, and you took this moment to actually examine your friend. He was still in his school robes, of course, the infamous Gryffindor crest plastered upon it. His glasses rested on the crook of his nose, his blue eyes unblinking, fixed on Cormac. Jaw clenched, as was his fists. Lips pressed together in annoyance, unlike yours which were pressed together in embarrassment.

            Embarrassed because you couldn’t believe Harry had found you in this position—unable to fight back.

            You could’ve sworn there was a glint of murderous intent within the emerald hues of his eyes; even from a distance, you noticed everything about Harry.

            “Well, we were,” Cormac stated in his matter-of-fact tone, angering you further—but, Harry had it covered. It genuinely baffled you that they were both in the same House.

            “Oh, just—come off it,” Harry scoffed, pushing past him to get to you—he had been the person you wanted to see at the Great Library.

            Not Cormac McLaggen, but Harry Potter.

            But, why? Even now, as he approached you, you felt those thunderclouds morph into wisps of the sun, warmth blooming in your chest as his fingers delicately brushed over your arm, specifically the bit where Cormac had grabbed you so roughly. For some reason, Harry’s touch didn’t disgust you like Cormac’s did.

            It was because he was your friend… right? You didn’t know Cormac like you knew Harry.

            You didn’t know anyone like you knew Harry.

            “You alright?” He asked softly, his tone changing so he didn’t frighten you further; you weren’t frightened per se, but he knew situations like this made you uncomfortable. Conflict. Arguments. Loud voices…

            All too familiar.

            “Fine,” you murmured in return, grateful for how the pads of his fingers massaged your flesh, the pain which had formerly bloomed now beginning to dissipate. Lowering your gaze, Harry turned his head to see if Cormac was still standing there like a fool.

            Thankfully, the creep took one look at Harry’s six-foot-form and fled the scene, probably wanting to maintain his golden boy reputation. He may have been taller, but Harry—

            Everyone knew what Harry was. Who he was.

            A few moments passed. Both of you just stood in the vacant hallway, your expressions paired with… serenity. You preferred silence. As did Harry, especially with the Dark Lord penetrating his mind every damned hour. You didn’t know when you developed this dynamic with him out of all people—others, girls to be precise, would wonder how you ‘bagged’ the Chosen One, how you managed to get him to pay attention to you.

            But, that was the thing. You didn’t do anything.

            “We were supposed to meet at the library,” Harry spoke, his voice synonymous with the stillness of the atmosphere, his lovely eyes trying to meet yours.

            Eventually, your eyes left the floor, trailing up his uniform—his broad chest; the Adam’s apple of his throat; the sharp contour of his jawline; his rosy-coloured, heart-shaped lips; his hawk nose—and then, finding his two orbs. They reminded you of the sea, his eyes. His black pupils were like jagged basalts, a form of rock, fixed within a circle of the Atlantic. They were quite pretty, actually.

            You preferred them over the dull green of McLaggen’s eyes.

            “I got… sidetracked,” you murmured in return, nibbling your bottom lip as Harry’s hand left your arm—you almost swallowed your disappointment, but you thought too soon, his fingers finding yours instead.

            Intertwined they became.

            “I know,” he whispered. “Sorry I didn’t come sooner.”

            “You couldn’t have known,” you were quick to reply, a little surprised that he was apologising. Yet, Harry simply shook his head, a small, soft smile finding his even softer lips.

            “Actually, I think I did.” You furrowed your eyebrows, having no choice but to follow him as he began the journey back to the library, where you were supposed to be all alone. “I just… had a feeling. You know—when your chest gets all clouded and… your heartbeats start sounding like thunderclaps.”

            Oh.

            Merlin.

            “Mhm…” you hummed, looking away, your cheeks flourishing with delightful shades of red. “All too familiar.”

thank you for reading!

[ace-of-zaun]

Kiss Me More. Pt 3:

silco x f!reader - 2.8k words - SFW

cw: angst, Silco being the most clueless mf to ever live (but he’s also a sweetheart, so we’ll forgive him just this once), fluff, Vander being lovely, mentions of poverty, arguments, references to sex, Seven is the actual worst, kind of an angsty end to the chapter (thought i'd mention it just in case)

PART 1 | PART 2

-

Silco has mentioned Seven and your date with him that many times in the past week, you’re genuinely starting to worry he’s got an unhealthy obsession with the boy. 

In fact, he’s brought it up so often, you can tell just by the way Silco takes a breath that he's going to start yet another rant about your situationship, prompting you to scuttle away from him the second he opens his mouth to speak. 

It doesn’t put you off going on your date. If anything, it makes you even more determined to push back against Silco and prove to him that you can do this, with or without his support.

So, you go on your second date with Seven. 

He’d somehow managed to visit you every single day at work following your first date, which caused a giddy, cherished sort of feeling the first two times it happened, but now kind of irritates you after eight consecutive days of it. 

Now, it just feels clingy and suffocating, and you’re getting slightly worried your boss is going to get mad at you for wasting time at work. 

Luckily, Seven hadn’t asked you to go swimming on your date, (or, skinny dipping, as Silco had told you was his actual meaning, approximately six thousand times). Instead, he’d walked you to one of the little piers overlooking the river, where you’d sat side by side and shared a simple picnic. 

It was nice. Mostly. 

Seven had pretty much just talked about himself the entire time (again), and had even interrupted you the one time you tried to tell him about the new vinyl you’d excitedly bought on sale at the market. (So what if you can’t play it or listen to it just yet, Seven, you’ll be able to afford a phonograph one day, and you can just admire the sleeve artwork until then!)

Towards the end of the date, he’d finally kissed you, softer than you were expecting after the bold way he’d previously tried to kiss you outside your apartment.

But there hadn’t been any butterflies, or that wonderful, little spark you’ve often heard people describing when they speak of their first kisses. (Kinda, sorta like the way you felt when you’d kissed Silco…)

Kissing Seven, you hadn’t really felt anything at all, except, slightly icky and a little bit disappointed.

So now, you arrive home from the pier on your own (Seven had apparently been too busy to walk you back this time) with a strange sort of empty feeling emanating from your chest. Like someone has stolen a couple of your ribs while you weren’t looking. 

But a warm sense of relief and delight quickly replaces that feeling when you spot Vander sprawled out on the sofa, arms spread out across the back, head tilted up to the ceiling. 

It’s rare to see him at home, what with his long hours down the mine and evenings tending the bar. And it shows. Tired eyes and limbs betraying just how shattered he must be after all those hours of work. 

You’re desperate to tell him to give up the extra shifts at the bar. But you’re genuinely not sure if the three of you would be able to stay together without it. Maybe you should ask if you could pick up some of his shifts instead, give him a few nights off. Janna knows he deserves it.

Vander looks up when you gently click the front door closed, sitting up properly while you toe off your shoes to join the line along the wall. 

“Hey, you’re home,” you say. 

“I am,” he replies, easy smile to mask his exhaustion. “How was your date?”

Part of you had hoped he’d forgotten so you wouldn’t have to talk about it. But Vander’s far too thoughtful for that. 

“Ah, you know…” you say, looking down at your feet bashfully. 

“That bad?”

“I wouldn't say bad.” You sigh, dropping down next to him on the sofa.

You rest your head against his shoulder, tucking your feet under your legs in an attempt to get comfortable. Vander places his arm around your shoulder and gently pulls you towards him, until you’re leaning against his side.

You’ve always secretly thought of him as your wise, older brother. The one who always knows what to say and how to say it. The person you can always rely on.

"But not good?" he asks, genuinely. 

This time, the sigh you give feels like it radiates from your whole body. 

“It’s just…I didn’t expect any of it to feel like this, I thought I was supposed to feel…”

You don’t really know, to be honest. You’ve only ever heard people describe their experiences with love or dating, so you’re not completely sure what you’re supposed to feel. 

But something deep down is telling you, ‘not like this’.

“Feel what, lass?” Vander prods gently. 

“I don’t know,” you finally admit. 

Van nods in understanding, gently tapping your bicep twice before rubbing up and down your arm soothingly. 

“Maybe you just need a bit more time to get to know him,” he says, offering you the advice you’d been too nervous to ask for. “D’ya think you’ll see him again?”

You tilt your head to the side, worrying your lip with your pointer finger and thumb. 

“He asked me to go on another date with him tomorrow,” you say, pushing down the fact it feels like a shameful confession. “I said yes but-”

And then Silco storms into the room, looking like he’s spitting nails. 

“You're not seriously going on another date with that greasy-haired freak?" he demands, apropos of absolutely nothing. 

Immediately, you push yourself from Vander’s embrace to sit up and glare at him. Trust Silco to ruin the nice moment you were having. 

“Seriously, what have you got against him?”

Silco ignores you, clearly on a rampage that could only be fuelled by pure insanity. 

“You can't go on another date with him,” he announces firmly. 

"What? Why?" 

You wait, with a truly impressive amount of patience if you do say so yourself, for Silco to explain himself. To present his infallible, incredibly coherent, astonishingly well-thought out argument as to why you can’t go on another date with the person you are currently dating. 

"Because he's gross,” he says. 

You could really, honestly smack him. 

"No, he's not." 

"I don't think you should see him anymore," he continues. 

“Silco. I’m not a child, you can’t just tell me what to do,” you say, feeling the anger beginning to bubble away inside you. Silco knows exactly how to push your buttons and he knows it. 

“Yes, I can,” he argues, arms crossed against his chest. 

You narrow your eyes dangerously. 

“No, you can’t.” 

“Alright, that’s enough, you two,” Vander interrupts before one of you tackles the other and turns the argument into a childish scrap in the middle of the room.

Sil huffs dramatically and uncrosses his arms. Then, clearly not knowing what to do with them as they hang awkwardly by his side, he decides to cross them again. 

“Fine. I wasn't going to say anything, but I spoke to a guy at the mines who knows him and he's… got a bit of a reputation."

"What do you mean, ‘reputation’?"

"I mean, he's dated just about every girl in the Undercity," Silco stresses.

You frown at this new information, but honestly, deep down, you don’t really care. Even the mental image of Seven kissing other people doesn’t spark that jealousy in you that it did when you’d pictured Silco experiencing his first kiss. 

But admitting that to him feels like defeat so instead you say, "Well, maybe he just hasn't found the one yet." 

Silco scoffs obnoxiously.

"What, and you think you're the one?" he says sarcastically. His tone is a little bit on the mean side. Like he’s implying that you’re not good enough for Seven.

And honestly, it stings. It hurts and it makes you angry. You thought after all these years that Silco cared about you, that he wanted the best for you. 

But all he’s done for the past few weeks is question you constantly when all you needed was just a little support from your best friend.

And, gods, you know that you don’t really mean any of it, but there’s a burning, horrible impulse to hurt Silco like he’s been hurting you, so you stand up to face him square on.

"And what if I am, huh?” you begin.

Of course, Silco immediately goes to interrupt, but you steamroll ahead. 

“You know what, Silco, maybe I’ll just go and stay with him if you’re that wound up about it. Actually, yeah.” You purse your lips and shrug your shoulders nonchalantly, before looking him dead in the eye. “No need to wait up for me after my date tomorrow, I’ll just stay at his for the night.”

Silco looks absolutely horrified, face draining at the implication (that you don’t mean at all, honestly, you can’t think of anything worse than spending the night with Seven). 

But Silco doesn’t have to know that.

He steps forward a little and says your name, really quite desperately.

“Wait-”

There’s no way you’re letting him get the last word, so you stalk out the living room and into your bedroom without a backward glance, slamming the door shut behind you for good measure.

You drop onto your bed, desperately trying not to cry as you slap your hands over your face, like it’ll hold everything in. 

You just don’t get why Silco is acting like this. 

And the more time you spend with Seven, the more sure you are that he’s actually quite a repulsive, self-centered person. But you don’t know how to fix any of this mess you’ve gotten yourself into and all you really want is your best friend back. 

You just want everything to go back to the way it was.

Is that too much to ask? 

-

You haven’t spoken a word to Silco since your argument. Even after Vander had carefully explained that Silco probably didn’t mean what he’d said, you don’t want to hear it. The hurt is still too raw to forgive him yet. 

Everything has changed since you kissed. Now, your heart does this breathtaking little flip in your chest every time you see him, and all you can think about is kissing him again. But you're dating Seven and it's not like Silco likes you anyway, so there’s no point in entertaining it. 

Gods, you wish you could just stop feeling like this. 

You force yourself to go on another date with Seven, even though you had originally been planning on cancelling when you were talking about it to Vander. Now, you’re going just to spite Silco. 

So that’s how you find yourself walking through the city’s sprawling market stalls with Seven, kinda wishing you were anywhere else. You’re not really buying any of the products for sale because neither of you can afford much of anything at the moment, which just makes you feel all deflated. 

And Seven is holding your hand as you stroll along, but honestly, you wish he wasn’t. His hands are a bit sweaty and he’s gripping your knuckles just a bit too tightly for comfort. You have to keep letting go to wipe your hand on your leg and it’s starting to get really quite embarrassing. 

Just as you’re on the cusp of deciding whether to fake some kind of horrific illness or whether it’d be too dramatic to just flee Zaun and adopt a whole new identity, you’re saved by a tall figure stumbling into your side.

You only just manage to stop yourself from tripping to the ground, thankfully righting yourself before you can fall, just to look up in confusion at-

Silco. Who looks down at you with the most unapologetic expression you’ve ever seen in your life.

It’s clear he’s followed you because why else would he be in the market, he hates the market when it’s busy. He once said he’d rather run naked through the streets of Piltover in front of the Council building than risk the ‘throngs of dawdling idiots’ on a busy market day. 

"Hey, fancy bumping into you!” Silco acts surprised, completely over the top and almost embarrassingly unconvincing. He’s not getting a job in the Piltie theatre anytime soon, that’s for sure. 

Then, his expression drops when he glances at Seven, like there’s suddenly a bitter, bitter taste in his mouth. “Oh. What’s he doing here?”

You resist the urge to scream, finally letting go of Seven’s hand to step away from him.

"Silco-" 

"We're on a date." Seven finally speaks, looking thoroughly annoyed at the interruption. Even more annoyed than when Silco was rude to him outside your apartment. 

"Really?" Silco questions. He looks pointedly at the distance between the two of you and then stares obstinately at Seven. "Doesn't look like it to me." 

"Look, mate-" 

Silco cuts him off with deadly sharp precision. 

"You know, Six, I think we have a mutual acquaintance," he says, timbre turning positively dangerous. "Her name’s Lia. Works at the mines? That ring any bells in your dense, little head?" 

At this, Seven’s face pales. Rapidly. 

"Never heard of her," he insists, far too quickly to be anything but a lie. 

Then, he turns to you, snatching up your hand again. 

"Let's go, doll, we don’t have to put up with this." 

Silco’s expression darkens immeasurably, clenching his fists by his sides as he steps forward, but you beat him to the punch, ripping your hand out of Seven’s grasp. 

Fuck this. 

"You know what, I've just remembered that there's something that I need to do," you snap, borderline shouting over them when they both jump to speak. "Alone." 

Turning on your heel, you stalk off in the opposite direction, automatically heading towards the River without even really thinking about it. It’s the place you usually end up when you need to clear your head, and right now, you just need some peace and quiet.

You’re only a few streets away from the market when you hear Silco following you, knowing after all these years the loping strides of his gait by heart. When he makes no sign of stopping, you take a deep breath and turn to face him. 

"Please don’t." 

He says your name pleadingly but you shake your head. 

"I don't want to hear it, Silco," you say, a wave of exhaustion sweeping your bones.  

You’re far, far too tired for this.

"But he's-" 

"Why are you going out of your way to sabotage this for me?" you ask, absolutely detesting the way your voice wobbles on the last few words. 

Silco’s expression flickers, clearly torn between giving you space and stepping forward to comfort you. He ends up shoving his hands into his pockets defensively, but not without inching just that little bit closer to you. 

"I'm not trying to sabotage anything, I'm just trying to protect you," he replies, tone soft. An attempt at reassurance. 

"From what?" you ask.

"From getting hurt.”

He bites his lip, determined and desperately worried all at once. 

You sigh heavily, scrubbing a hand over your face.  

"I just don't get it, Sil, I don't get why you're doing all this," you say, letting your arms drop wearily by your side. 

He seems almost startled by your need for an explanation, uncharacteristically sheepish for the briefest moment as you watch him expectantly. 

"I… I just…" 

And then, as you continue to wait, his expression shutters, turning stony and closed off, and you know you’re not going to get anything from him now. Certainly not anything honest or in the least bit vulnerable. 

You bite your lip hard to stop the burning tears from falling. 

"Just go home, Silco," you say. You sniff back the tears, dejected but accepting. "I'll see you later.”

It breaks your heart to watch the way his shoulders slump but his expression still doesn’t crack. And he still doesn’t say a word when you slowly turn and walk away from him. He doesn’t stop you. 

The next few days feel like a haze of misery; a looping, unfathomable rhythm of going to work and returning home in silence, trying to ignore the way he watches you walk through the flat with a terribly lost expression, like you’ve slipped from his grasp.

You can’t bring yourself to talk to him, even though it physically hurts you to ignore him like this, the irony of not being able to talk to the one person who you can always go to. 

And with Vander gone so often, you’re left to just sit silently in your bedroom, staring at the cracks in the ceiling, wondering where the hell it all went wrong. 

-

a/n: I’m sorry for such an angsty end to this chapter, lots of fluff and comfort in the next one, i promise!! (and this story will def have a happy ending, i think i’m physically incapable of writing sad endings, it’s just not in my dna)

-

super secret taglist 😎: @oceansssblue, @inolaphoenix , @holographicgarden , @darlingimafangirl , @rainyforest777 , @kikiiswashere , @deviantgamergirl , @miffysoo , @eternallyvenus

[weirdblkgrl]

MODERN AU! SEVIKA HEADCANONS

cw: none i think. just fluff

an: please forgive me if this is trash, this is my first post. also this is barely proofread sorry :p. also here's my modern!sevika moodboard

modern!sevika who’s love language is physical touch. she’s not great with her words like… at all. she loves to wrap her strong arms around your waist and bury her face in her neck while you’re cooking or cling onto you while she's sleeping. she won’t tell you she loves you, but she’ll tell you in other ways.

soft giggles escape your lips. “what are you doing?” you question, as sevika holds you down on the couch. she peppers slow, soft, wet kisses in a trail from your cheek, to your jaw, and down your neck. “what, i’m not allowed to kiss my girl anymore?” she replies, a cheeky smile on her face.

modern!sevika who loves to watch cheesy rom-coms with her girl. whether it’s a k-drama or an old movie, she’s pretty much down to watch anything. not only does she watch it, but she’s invested in it. she’s definitely slammed her cup on the coffee table too hard, and a bit too many times. she can’t help it, how else is she supposed to react to such a riveting plot?

sevika watches the tv screen intently, eyebrows furrowed. “wait. the head nurse is her mom? and her mom killed his mom?! what the hell?!” you can’t help but laugh and feel amused seeing her so into the show.

(any its okay not to be okay fans? :p)

modern!sevika who is actually super sweet, but only extends that curtesy to her girlfriend. i mean, let’s be real, she has the meanest rbf you have ever seen and she’s the most romantic person, to say the least. but if there’s anything she knows how to do, is take care of what’s hers.

you can’t help but plop onto your bed and let out an exasperated sigh after the day you’ve had. long meetings, a heap ton of work, and constantly complaining bosses has finally taken its toll on you. you curl up on your bed, stray tears falling from your watery eyes and soft sniffles escaping you. you were so lost in your thoughts, that you didn’t even notice sevika had arrived home. it wasn’t until you felt a dip in the bed behind you, that your cries had paused.

“what’s wrong?” you hear behind you, in a low gravelly voice as the smell of cinnamon and sandalwood settle in the air. “just…work.” you respond weakly. she hums as she wraps a strong arm around you and pulls you closer. she leaves a gentle kiss on your shoulder. "need something?"

she’ll do whatever you need her to do. she’ll go out and get food, or cook your favorite meal. she cuddle you on the couch, and let you put whatever you want on the tv. all that matters is that her girl feels better, and when she finally gets a smile out of you, she can’t help but emulate it, tooth gap and all.

modern!sevika who can speak fluent hindi. she doesn’t speak it often, but she might mumble something under breath subconsciously since it was her first language. she finds it absolutely adorable when you try to repeat after her and totally butcher the pronunciation. she appreciates the effort. you’ve also picked up a couple phrases she says often, responding in english to whatever it is she said.

not only do you try to speak her language, but she’ll try to speak any other language you do, too. despite her confident demeanor though, she gets shy, so she'll just respond in english as well.

“tengo hambre,” you groan. she scoffs, though it’s more like a laugh. “go make yourself something to eat then.” a childish pout quickly forms on your face as give her a mean side eye. sevika rolls her eyes, knowing you’re too lazy to go cook yourself a proper meal. she’ll give in, not wanting you to be hungry. “next time you’re doing this yourself,” she’ll grumble.

(obviously if not spanish whatever other language you speak)

modern!sevika who's undeniably and astonishingly good with people. it makes sense, since she is a corporate manager for a large finance company. when your friends first meet her, everyone was, understandably, intimidated. but they were surprised to find she’s actually… charming. it's easy to have a conversation with her, but only if she wants to have one. she'll make it known if she doesn't.

a small smile finds its way onto your face as you leave your friend's event. "what?" sevika asks, confused, but amused nonetheless. "nothing... just... that went better than expected." she raises an eyebrow. "what? what'd you think was gonna happen?" she asks, skeptically. "to be honest, i'm not sure, but i didn't know you were so... personable." you give her a suspicious look, "have you been hiding this skill from me?" she rolls her eyes. "dont be an idiot. how'd you think i got you head over heels for me?" she says, as she smiles cockily.

ahh she's my fave i hope you liked it :D

[monster-effer]

HIIII.. your write rlly good for autistic reader so i would like to request lads boys with an autistic reader that gets overstimulated and accidentally gets angry them? when i am overstimulated i get really angry so i feel bad,,, (hi fellow autistic gals)

Thank you so much 🥰 and yes I can!

In all of these headcanons, it is assumed that each love interest is aware that the reader is autistic and experiences overstimulation on occasion.

Sylus – temperature dysregulation (hot)

It was midsummer in Linkon and you feel like you are boiling in your flesh suit.

You have always had issues with temperature regulation. You get hot from the smallest amount of physical exertion, from eating warm foods, or being outside long enough when the sun is shining. And then you begin to sweat. Being hot and sweaty makes you irrationally angry, and you can’t help it.

Usually, you bring a portable fan and wear tank tops to avoid becoming a sweaty mess. In the summer even these things don’t save you. And today is one of those days.

You are out with Sylus at a summer market in Linkon city. He is wearing a pair of dark sunglasses, a tank top, shorts and sandals as you two peak at the stalls you pass by.

You were so hyped when you first got here because usually Sylus is sleeping during this time of day. But he was willing to sacrifice his sleeping schedule to see you smile.

You have been walking around for an hour, indulging in free samples being handed out and stopping at any stall that catches your eye.

But your blissful afternoon is interrupted by the all too familiar feeling of your body heating up past the point of comfort. You feel agitated and upset that you can’t just enjoy a day out without heating up and getting sweaty. And unfortunately your irritation leaks into your conversation with Sylus.

“Which booth would you like to check out next kitten?”

You let out an audible sigh before replying. “Why do I always have to choose?” you ask harsher than you would have liked.

Sylus pauses at your tone and takes in your body language. Your face looks flushed, you’re starting to fan yourself with your hands, and you have an adorable grumpy expression on your face. He knows what this means.

Instead of commenting he begins to steer you back towards the parking lot, so he can get you back home in a cool environment. He also makes sure to turn on your AC via the smart thermostat he installed in your apartment.

“The booths are that way you know,” you say quietly.

“I know sweetie, but right now I think it’s time for us to go home.”

Instead of acknowledging his response with an answer you focus on fanning yourself with your hands. And lifting your arms up so your armpits can get some air. You blessedly arrive at his motorcycle and after a quick ride you are home once again.

When you arrive back at your apartment you sigh in relief because the air conditioner is already on. Without saying a word, you head to your room and begin to strip down to your undies so you can cool down completely.

Sylus walks to your kitchen to get you a glass of water with ice in it, he’s very familiar with this routine. After giving you a few minutes alone, he brings you the glass of water with adoration in his eyes.

“…I’m sorry. I got so hot and it made me upset. You didn’t deserve me taking it out on you.”

Sylus leans towards you and gives you a smooch.

“I forgive you. Now, drink this glass of water and continue to cool down for me okay?”

Zayne – being tired + in pain

You are beyond tired, there is a large gash on your leg and you’re sitting in urgent care at Akso hospital. The mission you just completed was rough to say the least. As you sit in the waiting room marinating in your misery, you decide that you’ll request a vacation once you’re all patched up.

You can almost feel your social skills slip through your fingers. It’s taking more effort than usual to keep up the niceties when you interact with the hospital staff, but you manage to do it. Just barely.

And when you are finally ushered into a room, the bright fluorescent lights instantly give you a raging headache.

As you close your eyes and cradle your head in your hands you consider going home instead of waiting for the doctor to come in.

You hear the door open, someone walk in then the door close once again. But you don’t bother looking up.

“What damage has your body sustained this time?”

Zayne’s voice is usually very soothing to you. But today his voice feels as smooth as sandpaper on your nerves. You cannot take his teasing at this moment because way too much is going on. You are overwhelmed.

“It’s not like I seek out ways to get hurt you know,” you reply petulantly.

Before he can reply, you can’t stop yourself from continuing “Also who thought it was a good idea to install these blinding lights? My eyes feel like they’re going to explode.”

Zayne silently observes you as he lets you vent. He turns off the lights in the room and opens the curtains so now there is only soft light coming in from the setting sun.

He then turns to you and speaks in a hushed tone. “Is this natural lighting more tolerable? I had to open the curtains so I can inspect your wound.”

You nod your head.

“Let me clean up and cover your wound then I will grab some aspirin for your headache.”

With the threat of the overhead lights gone, you finally open your eyes and look towards Zayne. “Zayne, I’m sorry for snapping at you. Everything just felt like too much at once.”

Zayne lets a small smile reach his lips. “I can tell when you’re overstimulated my love. No need to be sorry for things that are outside of your control. You were my last patient for the day, let’s go home together.”

Rafayel – crowded places

You are attending one of Rafayel’s gallery shows near the beach.

You, for the most part, came to support your lovely boyfriend but you also came at the urging of Thomas because “If you don’t come, Rafayel will not show up.”

The gallery is more packed than usual, with the news of Rafayel making an appearance spreading like wildfire through the news.

Rafayel is currently occupied by conversation with someone interested in buying one of his paintings. You wander over to the refreshment table to grab another flute of champagne.

You feel antsy from the amount of people at this gallery showing. The sensation of being trapped is putting you on edge. As you chew on your bottle lip and take a sip of your drink, you contemplate making a quick exit and apologizing to Rafayel later.

As you scope out the exits, you hear his familiar voice behind you. “Where are you heading off to cutie?”

Your heart is pounding in your chest, and you feel like you are under attack. “Coming here was a mistake. I feel like I can’t breathe,” you say quickly. You avoid his gaze because you know your words hurt him.

Before he can reply you rush out of the gallery and make your way down towards the beach before plopping down on the sand. Your dress be damned.

Watching the waves lap against the sand helps center you. After a few minutes you hear the crunch of sand as someone approaches you. You know it’s Rafayel because he is the only person who sits so close to you, both of your knees touching.

Both of you are quiet for a beat because he speaks up. You tense as you ready yourself for the backlash of your harsh words. But you are surprised at what he says.

“It really hurts when you run away from me” Rafayel says in a soft tone.

You feel like a piece of shit because you know Rafayel has abandonment issues. And you unintentionally played into them this evening.

You feel even worse once you look in his direction and see his signature pout and puppy dogs in full effect.

“Rafayel I’m so sorry. I thought I could handle being around all those people but it became too much for me to handle.”

Hearing your sincere apology softens the blow of your actions. “I figured that’s what happened. We didn’t expect there to be such a large turnout for this showing.”

“You know I would never purposefully put you in a situation that causes you distress, right?”

“I know.”

You two sit in companionable silence after reconciling.

“Do you want to take a stroll along the beach with me?”

“Don’t you have to stay at the gallery showing?”

“Ehh, Thomas can take it from here,” he replies nonchalantly.

With that you two stand up and walk hand in hand along the sand.

Caleb –loud noises

You are enjoying the atmosphere at the Linkon New Year festival with Caleb.

You still can’t believe that he’s back in your life after believing that he was dead for a year straight.

You have exhausted yourself from trying to visit every booth.

Before you know it, it is nighttime, and everyone is walking towards the open lawn to watch the fireworks show.

You turn to Caleb to ask if he wants to leave when he interrupts you by speaking first. “Will you be okay with watching the fireworks show before we head home?”

You swallow your own question after seeing the smile on his face, you don’t have the strength to deny him anything. But you’re not sure if you can handle how loud things are going to get.

“Sure,” you say with a tight smile as you dig through your bag for your earplugs. Your heart drops when you recall that you changed bags this morning. You are now woefully without ear protection. You feel like crying but decide to push through, not wanting to disappoint Caleb.

The fireworks show starts off fairly tame. But the loud boom from each firework frays your nerves and fills you with anxiety and dread. You feel like a cornered animal in a cage.

Caleb suddenly gets close to your ear. “What’s the matter pipsqueak?” He shouts in an attempt to be heard over the continuous fireworks.

The volume of his voice makes you jump and shout back “Get away from me!” Before you take off running through the crowd, towards the parking lot. This moment reminds him of a time in your childhood when you reacted the same way. You were overwhelmed and he refused to leave you alone in this state.

Caleb extensive exercise regimen kicks in as he catches up to you in no time. You have shakily climbed into the passenger seat of your car.

When he gets into the driver’s seat, he turns towards you with concern furrowing his brow.

“How are you feeling?”

“I feel okay now,” you reply quietly.

“Maybe we should look for some new earplugs for you. They didn’t seem to help much during the fireworks show.”

“I forgot to bring them with me today.”

“Ahh well that explains it. Why didn’t you mention it to me? We could have left early”

“I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

Caleb sighs and shakes his head in amusement. “You could never disappoint me princess. Let’s go home. I’ll make you some chamomile tea when we get there.”

You nod your head and buckle your seatbelt. The ride back to your apartment is filled with companionable silence. Nothing else needs to be said. Caleb accepts you for who you are, and he prioritizes your wellbeing above all else.

Xavier – lack of sleep

It took:

six fucking days

to track down and kill a wanderer that was causing havoc in remote town.

You learned during your investigation that this wanderer appears randomly, but always at night. You and Xavier have been taking turns patrolling.

You learned during your investigation that this wanderer appears randomly, but always at night. You and Xavier have been taking turns patrolling.

Your body, mind and soul are beyond exhausted. And you feel ready to take a week long nap in your bed.

As you finish compiling your report you are fighting to keep your eyes open. Once you send your report to Jenna you see Xavier approaching your desk from your peripheral vision.

“Hey, do you want to stop at the hot pot restaurant on the way home?”

The irritation you feel from lack of sleep reaches a boiling point. You don’t know what comes over you, but you just snap.

“Do you ever think of anything besides food? I am going home then straight to bed.”

Although it felt good to release that pressure and frustration. You regret directing it towards Xavier, especially when you look his way.

The soft and open expression you’ve grown accustomed to is gone and replaced with the blank and closed off one that he wore when you first met him. His lips are tensed in a straight line and his beautiful blue eyes are intently focused on you.

As you open your mouth to try to salvage things, Xavier interrupts you.

“Okay. How about I get us both home and while you sleep I’ll put some takeout in your fridge? When you wake up you won’t have to make anything,” he says in a monotone voice.

You feel tears pricking your eyes. Xavier is incredibly understanding even during the moments you misdirect your anger towards him.

“That sounds good. Thank you for being patient with me.”

“Like my love, my patience for you is limitless. Let’s leave, you need your rest.”