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thetriumphantpanda · 1 year ago

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baby, it's cold outside | joel miller

Summary | Patrolling with Joel is always easy, he's your friend after all, but when a snow storm forces you to stop halfway, you're both faced with feelings that you'd both rather ignore, but with nothing but time, talking about them is your only option.

Word Count | 4.2k

Pairing | Joel Miller x F!Reader

Warnings | Explicit 18+. A snow storm and a cabin with a nice, warm fireplace. Unspecified age gap. Explicit smut - unprotected PiV (don't do this, pls be smart), oral sex (F), size kink if you squint, dirty talk, two idiots who love each other, some negative feelings towards the holidays but nothing else I can think of!

Authors Note | A huge thank you to the wonderful @hellishjoel for setting the 12 days of Pedro up and asking me to take part - this was so much fun to put together and I hope you all love it as much as I do!

12 Days of Pedro Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Thank you to the wonderful @saradika for the divider!

Despite having lived in Wyoming for years now, the winters were still a surprise to you. Icy cold winds, frosted windows every morning, thick downfalls of snow almost daily and a struggle to get warm no matter how many layers you wore. Some would call it picturesque, and you suppose you could see it, everywhere you turned in Jackson at this time of year, even though it was against the backdrop of the end of the world, it looked like it could adorn the cover of any Christmas card or be the setting for any Christmas movie. It didn’t matter, because you hated it either way.

When the tree went up in the centre of town, and the lights got switched on, it only served to remind you how solitary you were. How you existed mainly entirely on your own. No family, barely any friends, always the talk of the gaggle of girls who would whisper to each other whenever you passed and start laughing to each other, or the boys who always wondered why instead of hanging around with people your own age, you opted to spend it alone, or with someone who was pushing sixty.

Because if there was a single person in this Godforsaken town that you could class as a friend, it was Joel Miller. Quiet, closed off, unapproachable until you chipped away at his hard exterior, just like you in so many ways, it was actually sickening really. You liked Joel, ever since Tommy had put you two together for patrols when Maria had given birth, it was like you’d found someone who finally understood your need to be alone.

Patrolling outside the walls gave you peace, let you leave your loneliness behind for a while, just you and the ground beneath your boots, the feeling that you were doing something wrong, were less of a person because of your lack of friends and relationships left behind at the gate. You’d proven yourself capable more than enough times for Tommy to realise you were an asset. You’d saved more than enough people with your good aim and quick trigger finger, been ruthless in getting rid of raiders who strayed too close to your safe haven, and he knew your need for solitude, which is why he trusted you on these longer routes, on the more complicated patrol rotations, the ones that would get you out of Jackson for a week.

You surmise that’s probably why he chose to pair you up with Joel. In the two years you’d patrolled together, you’d come to realise that he needed that solitude just as much as you did. A way to leave behind being a father at the gate and remind himself of exactly who he was before. Out here, walking side-by-side next to you, he wasn’t Ellie’s dad, he wasn’t the man who still woke up in cold sweats remembering the heavy weight of his dead daughter in his arms, or that man who had lost almost everyone he’d ever cared for along the way, he was just Joel. Joel, who was more comfortable cradling a rifle in his arms than he was his infant nephew. Joel, who preferred comfortable silence instead of filling the quiet with talk. Joel, who, even when you suspected he hated you at the start, would have protected you to the death no matter what.

You were similar, far more than you’d like to admit, and as the weeks and months had drawn on, and you’d moved into being more comfortable with each other, he really was one of those things you’d wanted for so long. A friend. Someone to rely on, someone to drink with at the end of a hard patrol route, someone who made sure you ate when it was the last thing on your mind, someone who fixed the hole in your roof and put new planks of wood on your porch when you almost fell through it one day, someone who confided in you about how hard he found being a parent again, someone who opened up to you when things started to sour with Ellie. A friend.

He was also someone, in the last six months, that you suspected wanted to be more than your friend. It had started small, with things any good friend would do. He would offer you his arm when you walked during the winter so you wouldn’t slip, started packing double lunch so he knew you’d eat when you’d go out together, but then it was the hand on the small of your back through town, or the way he’d sit close to you in the bar, knees knocking against yours just so he could put a hand on your knee to apologise for getting too close.

And it’s not like you didn’t see that in him either. For a man who was almost sixty, he was incredibly handsome, able to do unspeakable things on patrol that neither of you would talk about to anyone else, strong in a way you didn’t think you’d ever seen before. Sure, his hearing was shot in one ear, his middle soft with age, and his hair and beard peppered with grey hair, but Joel Miller was a sight.

But, what if you’d read his signals wrong? What if his kindness and that warm hand on your knee was just him being a Southern gentleman? You throw yourself at him and he doesn’t feel the same, what happens then? You lose one of the very few friends you’ve ever had, and that’s somehow worse than knowing you’ll never know what the feel of his skin is like under your touch or what it sounds like when he moans your name for you.

The patrol route is brutal this day, wind and snow making it hard to see anything in front of you. You and Joel had to shout loudly to each other in order to hear anything, so when you stumble across the cabin, halfway through the route, you both decide that it’s best to head inside, get warm and wait out the worst of the storm before carrying on. Safer that way, is what Joel said, but you think it’s got more to do with the cold on his joints than the safety. Even at your younger age, your bones were certainly aching.

The wind whips a flurry of snow into the abandoned cabin when Joel pushes the door open, ushering you inside quickly, shutting the door quickly behind the two of you before more snow can follow you in. He sets his rifle down near the door and his backpack on the worn, moth-eaten couch, kneeling in front of the fireplace.

This particular cabin is a regular stop on this patrol route, an agreement between the residents of Jackson who frequent it to keep it stocked with firewood during the cold season. You silently note to thank whoever had patrolled before you for stacking the fireplace so all Joel really needs to do is set fire to the scrunched paper dotted through the wood to get the warmth of the fire flooding the small front room.

“Reckon we’re here for the long run,” Joel grumbles, holding flat palms up to the flames to warm his hands, “Ain’t no way we’re walking anywhere in that.”

And he’s right, the light of the day is fading fast and even in daylight, the blizzard had been a nightmare to traverse. It’s not like you’re wanting to rush back though, you sometimes wish you could pack everything up and come out here for good, live in your solitude until the end of your days, but for now, just a few more nights away from the place that reminds you just how alone you are will do.

You settle down on the couch, trying to burrow further into the coat around your body, not bothering to take your gloves or your hat off until the flames of the fire are stronger.

“Come sit closer,” Joel murmurs, motioning with his hand for you to sit on the floor next to him, “Warm up a little.”

You slip down from the couch and scoot along the floor until you’re sat next to him. Joel reaches over and takes hold of your wrist, gently pulling off your glove, “They’re damp,” He states, reaching for your other hand to do the same, “Take your coat off too, you’ll get a chill otherwise.”

Working to unzip the front to pull it off, whilst Joel throws an extra few pieces of wood on the fire, you settle a little bit closer to the flames, feeling the warmth start to seep through your other layers. He stands, taking your coat and his, hanging them on either end of the fireplace to dry out a little, then he sits back down next to you, although a little closer than he had been before, so close that you can feel the heat of his body next to you.

You take a moment to steal a look up at him, his body larger than yours, towering a little next to you, but in the glow of the flames he’s fucking breathtaking. You get lost in tracing his jaw and the hook of his nose with your eyes that he’s turning his head to face you before you can turn away from him. He catches you with that small smile that is saved only for his family normally, Ellie, Tommy, sometimes Maria, and now, more often, you. So you smile back at him, let the warmth lick through your body, and before you realise it, he’s leaning his, broad shoulders bumping yours as his face gets closer, and God, it would be so easy to let him do it, move your face towards him, press your lips to his and burn it all to hell, but as he inches closer, that pit is opening in your stomach, bubbling anxiety and dread, so as he inches closer, you have to stop him.

You bring one of your fingers up to press against his lips gently, watching as he purses them against your touch a little, but then his eyes open when you speak, so softly, so quietly that he almost missed your plea, “Please don’t.”

It’s like you’ve burnt him with the way he not only drags his face from you, but his whole body, putting so much distance between the two of you that you almost cry. He clears his throat, running his hand over his face, “Right,” He mumbles, “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologise,” You insist, not meeting his eyes though, “You don’t need to be sorry.”

“Stupid of me,” He shakes his head, “Just thought-” He sucks in a breath and pushes it out on a sigh, “Thought maybe you’d feel the same, but it was stupid.”

“It wasn’t stupid, Joel,” You sigh, finally turning to him, “It’s okay.”

“Makes sense,” He shrugs, eyes boring holes into the flames in front of you, “I’m old, too old for you to want me.”

“It has nothing to do with you being too old for me Joel, I couldn’t give less of a fuck about that.”

You expect him to drop it, like he often does with these kinds of conversation, the ones that involve feelings, but he doesn’t.

“Then what is it?”

“Well, it has nothing to do with your grey hairs or your creaky fucking knees, that’s for sure.”

He’s looking at you with a look that says to get fucked, hurry up, tell him the real reason for all this.

“I could be shit in bed for all you know.”

“Well that’s easy to rectify, just need a little practice.”

It makes you snort, “Can we be fucking serious for a minute, Miller?”

“You’re the one who said it first.”

“What happens when it goes tits up?” You ask, “When you get bored of me, or realise I’m not what you thought I was, what happens then?” He opens his mouth to respond to you, but you beat him to it, “I lose my best friend, that’s what happens, the only person in this Godforsaken world that I have, and I don’t want that, I don’t want a world where I’m without you.”

“Who says it’s going to go tits up?” He counters, “Baby, I’m old, I ain’t gonna go running off, I just want somethin’ good, somethin’ happy, and I want that with you,” Just like you had done before, he starts talking again before you can add something, “Put your faith in somethin’, darlin’,” He’s moving back towards you now, shifting closer, “Put your faith in, me.”

It sounds so easy when he says it like that, because you had once before, without even realising. Let him in, let him get close, to know everything you’d been through, share everything he’d been through. You let him sit with you late at night in the summer, strumming his guitar on your porch, he lets you share his whiskey when you need it.

“I’m still gonna be your best friend,” He urges, that warm palm resting on your knee, “That ain’t gonna change, we’re just gonna add to it.”

And for some reason, it snaps, all of your good judgement and everything that was holding you back. His face is cradled in your palms before you know it, your body straddling his lap as your mouth slants over his, a surprised gasp swallowed by your mouth as his lips open against yours, his hands coming to rest on the globes of your ass through your jeans, pulling you closer, chest flush to chest as you soak this in.

Hands dropping to the collar of his shirt, you start to slowly unbutton it, mouth still against his, tongue tasting him as your fingers push button after button through their holes until you can push it from his shoulders, drag his arms from it, drag his undershirt from it’s place tucked into his jeans.

Joel gasps when your hands make contact with the skin under it, fingers still slightly icy from the cold, but that too is swallowed by your mouth, as is the moan that drags from your throat when he bucks his hips into yours.

He pulls away from your lips, forehead pressed to yours as you both breathe deeply, “Don’t seem shit in bed so far.” He chuckles.

“I was fucking with you Joel,” You smile, punctuating it with a roll of your hips into his, “I’m a delight in bed.”

“Prove it.”

“Can’t.”

“Why not?”

“This is the floor Joel,” Which earns you a squeeze to your ass, “I’ve never fucked someone on the floor before.”

Before you know what’s happening, he’s flipped you over, your back pressed to the dusty wooden floor, his body looming over yours, fingers picking the button of your jeans apart, pulling the zipper down, fingers hooking into the waistband of your jeans, pulling them down your legs, underwear along with them too, before they’re thrown behind him somewhere, forgotten as he parts your knees, legs spread, exposed to him, and you think you might die from the way he looks at you. You bury your head into your shoulder, trying to escape his gaze as he drags his thumb along your folds, growling when he feels how wet you are just from his mouth on yours.

You’re vaguely aware of the sounds of his feet hitting one of the armchairs behind him as he lowers his chest to the floor, hands pulling at your hips, your back dragging across the wooden floor as his mouth presses a single, feather-light kiss to your clit. The smallest of touches to your body has your back arching into him.

How long has it been? Not since you fucked someone, because in the grand scheme of things that hasn’t been too long. No, how long has it been since someone actually made you feel good? Years, you think. Too long. Too long since sex was anything more than just stress relief, pressed against the brick wall by the Tipsy Bison, letting someone fuck you so you could feel something, giving them the bragging rights of fucking the town outcast in return.

This is different. So different. Joel is slow with it, parting you in front of his face with his thumbs, tongue swirling through the slick you’re not even embarrassed about now, tasting you, drinking you in, before he drags his perfect mouth up, lapping gently at your clit with the tip of his tongue.

“Taste so fuckin’ good for me, baby.” He coos against your skin, his praise making you preen, hips chasing the feeling of his mouth on you, he chuckles at your desperation, “How long’s it been since someone made you feel good, huh?”

Your fingers tangle in the curls on his head, dragging him back down to your cunt to silence him, “Too long.” Is all you offer as he feasts on you.

Tongue swirling, lips suckling, fingers digging into the skin of your hips, dragging you slowly but surely to the edge, the fire in your blood no match for the fire against your skin. He’s fucking good at this, knows exactly how to listen to your moans, the way you pull at his hair when he does something you like, collecting the little gasps and hip movements until he’s working a pattern on your pussy that makes you feeling like you’re going to explode, combust, maybe even die a little.

“Don’t stop,” You urge, breathless, sheen of sweat settling across what skin of yours is exposed to the flames near to you, “Gonna - fuck Joel - gonna cum.”

That’s when he pushes two of his fingers into you. Hooking them up inside of your cunt, your legs dropping open further than you thought possible as he works you and works you. You’ve gone quiet, letting out only short breathes when holding them in makes your head light, fingers so tight in his hair that you think it’s probably hurting.

Then, you think you find God, right there on the dirty, dusty floor, when the coil snaps inside of you. Your back arches off the floor, thighs clenched around Joel’s head as his tongue continues the flicks against your clit, ignoring the high-pitches whines of too much, Joel listening instead to the movement of your legs, the way your entire body convulses until you truly are spent for him.

Joel pushes himself up onto his knees, dragging his undershirt over his head, pulling his belt through its loops as you’re sitting up, dragging the upper portion of your clothes off, naked on the floor for him, the flames from the fire keeping you warm, even if your nipples do pebble and peak against the cold.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Joel breathes out as your hand settles on your pussy, fingers dragging through the slick to lazily move over your clit, “I wish you could see yourself right now, baby,” He crones, pushing down his jeans, cock springing free, immediately clasped in his fist, movements slow as he watches you touch yourself, “Pretty as a fuckin’ picture.”

His body falls forward, coverings yours, but this isn’t what you want. Hand on his chest, you’re pushing him back, “Wanna ride you, Joel.” You whine.

Like a kid on Christmas, he’s on his back in seconds, jeans and underwear pooled around his ankles because if you’re not sinking down on him in the next few seconds, he’s going to scream. You settle your thighs on either side of his hips, his cock, heavy and throbbing against his stomach. He’s watching you, as you take the base of him in your hand, line him up with that aching core of yours, head notching into you, where you just keep him for a moment, let him stretch you as you ground yourself with palms on his chest, sinking down, inch by inch until he’s fully buried inside you, warmth wrapping around him, just like the warmth from the fire against his skin.

You start moving your hips, his cock so deep in you he swears if he put a palm on your lower belly, he’d feel himself through your skin with the way you’re grinding against him, head thrown back, mouth dropped open. He wishes he could take a photo of this. He doesn’t think he’s seen a nicer sight in his life.

“It’s a lot, ain’t it baby?” He coos, hands on your hips, guiding your movements, he knows he’s big, been told enough times through his life, but the way you’re slow, getting used to him inside him, has him on the verge of spilling inside you already.

“So big, Joel.” You whine, leaning back now, hands on his knees which have moved up, his feet planted on the floor now, and God alive, if he thought you were a sight before, you’re a fucking masterpiece now as you start bouncing on his cock.

He can’t help himself, he is only a man after all, his hands trailing up the curves of your side, taking hold of your tits, rolling your nipples between his fingers, listening to the way you sing for him. Somehow, he finds core strength from somewhere, pushes himself up, one hand behind him to prop him where he is, as his mouth sucks a nipple into his mouth, rolling that pebbled peak with his tongue, your arm wrapping around his shoulders to steady yourself against him, hips still working against his, finger tangling in the curls near his neck, keeping his mouth anchored right where it is.

Joel pulls off you, a wet smack from his lips as he looks up at you with those beautiful brown orbs, “Feel so fuckin’ good, baby,” He praises, “So tight around me, like you were made for me.”

“Wanna feel you,” You moan, head dropping against his shoulder, “Wanna feel you come for me.”

He’s wrapping his arms around your back, dragging you down with him as he rests himself back on the floor, your chest pressed to his as he finally takes control. Feet planted on the floor with your teeth digging into his shoulders, he fucks up into you, the cabin filled with nothing but breathy moans and a lewd smack of skin as he pounds himself into you. In an ideal world he’d focus on making you come again, feeling you clench around his cock as you fall apart would be incredible, but he thinks there will be time for that later.

He’s so fucking close, you can feel it, the way his fingers are gripping t every inch of skin they can reach, the way his hips are faltering and how your name is more of a feature on his lips. You let out a surprise squeal as he flips you both, your back now to the ground as his cock slips out of you, his fist replacing the wet heat of your cunt as the warmth of his cum splashes across your lower belly, a howl, not unlike an animal, falling from his mouth as he paints you, claims you as his own with those ropes of cum across your skin.

When all is said and done, and he’s taken in the sight of your skin splashed with his spend, the two of you lying in front of the fire, one blanket dragged from the bed on the floor to soften the harsh wood, another pooled around both your hips, this feels like home. Both you and Joel, led on your side, watching each other, and the flickering light of the fire bathes you both in orange, in warmth.

His hand traces your face, thumb dragging across your bottom lip as he leans in to kiss you. Hours later, with harsh wind and snow still swirling outside, he brushes a thumb across your nipple, your hand reaching down between you to find him hard again. He puts you on your back this time, creaky knees be damned, slides his cock into your aching cunt once more, fucks you slowly, the entirety of his weight pressed against you. That orange glow almost convincing you that this was before, when things were normal, romantic even, as his lips leaves tiny bruises across your skin.

When he’s marked you once more as his, cum splashed from your pussy to your tits, he lies back down, the broad expanse of his back to the dying embers of the fire, your back pressed to his front, his arm snaked under your neck, urging you to sleep, and as you drift off, Joel’s hot breath against the skin of your ear, his other arm draped loosely over your waist, you pray that the snow is just as bad in the morning, because if it were possible, you want to return even less now, want to remain huddled next to Joel, on the floor, for the rest of your life.

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sophvilla · 7 months ago

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Enmity to Ecstasy

°°°°°°°°°Enha Series°°°°°°°°

Pairing: Sim Jaeyun X Fem!Reader

Synopsis: You both Were sworn Enemies since childhood, but as They say that there is a thin line between Love and Hate, And that Line is called Pleasure

Warning

: Heavy Smut, MDNI, 18+, lots of moaning overstimulation, Reader gets called Baby etc,Unprotected sex.

SIM JAEHYUN | 심재현

I’m not sure how we went from mortal enemies to this,

He was your high school enemy who made your life hell. You knew him since childhood but never were on good terms with him, you continued to hate and also torment him here and there and He never stopped teasing you.

And now here you were, in bed with him, naked, legs spread open, taking his cock into your mouth like it was the most natural thing in the world. And maybe it was, Maybe that's what happens when you're around someone all the time for years, When you get used to them. When you learn their patterns, Their habits, Their likes and dislikes, Their triggers and quirks, You get comfortable around them, So comfortable that they become part of you. A part of your life that you can't imagine living without.

But that didn't mean you had to be friends. Or even civil. No, That would be too much work. Too much effort. Too much compromise. Besides, what good could come out of friendship? What good could come out of being nice to each other? Nothing, that's what! It was better this way - just keep things status quo as they always have been. Just let things remain the same forever more. Forevermore.

"Fuck, baby," Jake moaned. He thrust his hips forward and buried himself deeper inside of you. "Fuck! Oh god', fuck! So fucking tight, you're so fuckin' tight"

His hands gripped your hips tightly, pulling you back against him again and again. He fucked you hard and fast, slamming into your body over and over until you both came together in a frenzy of passion and desire.

You looked up at him through half-lidded eyes, watching as his face contorted into pleasure. His eyes rolled back in his head before locking onto yours once again, He leaned down and kissed you deeply, his tongue sliding past your lips to taste the sweet nectar that was dripping from your pussy.

You moaned softly against his mouth, returning the kiss with equal fervor. Your fingers curled into fists, digging into his back as you pushed yourself closer to your climax,

"Yes-s just like that, jake-e don't stop” you moaned out as he sped his thrust up continuously plunging his cock inside your overstimulated cunt,

Jake pulled away slightly, panting heavily. He smiled down at you before leaning back down and kissing you again. This time, though, he didn't stop kissing you. Instead, he continued to ravage your mouth with his tongue while simultaneously thrusting his hips forward. Each time he did so, your body tensed and shivered in response.

A soft whimper escaped your throat as Jake continued to pound into you mercilessly. The sound of flesh smacking against skin filled the air around you.

Finally, after several minutes of intense fucking, you both came undone from your high as Jake released a loud groan and collapsed onto top of you, leaving you breathless and drenched in sweat.

"God damn," he muttered. He rested his forehead against yours and took a few deep breaths to calm down.

"I can't fucking stop, I don't want to stop" he said before He knelt down between your thighs and gently pressed his fingers against your clit.

"Ohh' hngg" you whimpered at the touch his fingers on your abused clit, You gasped as soon as he touched you, causing your muscles to tense involuntarily,

"Shhh," he whispered. He stroked your clit slowly at first, then began to pick up speed until you felt yourself start to relax. As he continued to rub your clit, he slid his thumb inside of you. He pushed his thumb in deeper and deeper until he found your g-spot.

"Oh god," you moaned. You arched your back and squeezed your legs together, trying desperately to keep quiet. But it wasn't easy. Especially since you knew that if you let go of your control, you would probably scream out in ecstasy.

Jake chuckled darkly as he continued to massage your g-spot. "Mmmhmm," he hummed. "That's right baby. Let me hear you cum for me."

He started to move faster, rubbing your clit harder than ever before.

"Jake-e~," you cried out. You couldn't hold back anymore. Your entire body trembled uncontrollably as wave after wave of pure bliss washed over you,

"Oh fuck yes," he growled. He increased the pressure on your clit, making you squirm beneath him. "That's it baby. Give in to me. Make a fucking mess."

He continued to tease and taunt you until finally, you surrendered completely. All resistance melted away and you allowed yourself to fall under his spell. You let him take control of your body, allowing him to do whatever he wanted to it.

As soon as he sensed that you were ready, he plunged his cock deep inside of you. He held still for a few moments, letting you adjust to the size of his shaft. Then, he started moving again. This time, he thrust harder and deeper than ever before.

You moaned loudly as he pounded into you relentlessly. Your body shook violently from the force of his pounding,

"Yes! Yes! Too much' jakeee, too much ~" you screamed. Your entire body convulsed with pleasure as Jake slammed into you repeatedly.

"you can take it all baby, take all of it," he grunted. He continued to pound into you furiously, his pace increasing with every thrust.

You closed your eyes and focused all of your energy on experiencing the exquisite sensation coursing through your veins. You lost track of everything except for the incredible pleasure he was giving you.

After several more minutes of intense pounding, you felt your body tremble with you orgasm as his cock was reaching your cervix, making you cum hard, followed by Jake filling your pussy full of his cum as Jake pulled out of you after a few moments. He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you close to him.

You opened your eyes and saw that he was smiling broadly at you. He leaned down and kissed your cheek tenderly.

"Thank you," he whispered softly.

You blushed fiercely, feeling embarrassed by the fact that you had just given yourself to him completely. But you couldn't deny the truth of his words. There was no denying that you had enjoyed every single second of it.

"well I really like it as well so yeahh" you murmured. "Really. I mean, I guess it's kind of weird considering our history."

Jake laughed heartily. "Yeah, well, This had to be done much earlier but I'm glad we still did it."

You grinned sheepishly. "Guess so."

"Also this is not a One-time thing, I'm taking you again' and again until the very end" He whispered but His Face shows all of his Seriousness and sincerity,

As you nodded at his words looking up at him as he pulls you into his embrace, kissing your forehead gently.

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redsrooftopprincess · 3 months ago

Note

Could you do anymore headcannos for the tmnt 2014/2016 boys? Idc what the headcannon is but I love it hc so much

Sleeping Headcanons

Headcanons you say? Let's get into it!

Warnings: mental health, drugs/alcohol

We spend nearly half of our lives asleep, and the boys are no different! They're a little backwards, being basically nocturnal, but they sleep (and struggle to), just like anybody else.

Leo

Bed. Leo is a traditionalist and sleeps on a firm Japanese Futon. He sleeps on his plastron because that's the most practical. He's usually on his side, hugging a pillow, by morning.

Temperament. Even as always, unless he has a migraine, then he's in his room the second he gets home. Dark and quiet. If someone disturbs him, he'll get up and address whatever it is that needs seeing to, but don't expect conversation. However, he *is* a morning person! They all hate him until about 10 am.

Routine. If he has a headache he'll usually have no choice but to just lay down the second he's off the clock. If he doesn't, he has a very strict routine that is *always* adhered to, or he can't sleep (no, that's not a joke):

Tea (usually jasmine) with Dad while processing the day.

Shower.

Teeth.

Undress.

Meditate for 30 minutes.

Sleep.

The morning is much the same but in reverse:

Wake up.

Meditate for 15 minutes.

Get dressed.

Downstairs for coffee/breakfast/discussing the day with Dad.

Training.

Sleeping with a partner. Having someone around to upset his routine is ROUGH. Don't ask to sleep in his bed. Seriously, don't. Sharing *his space* is a HUGE step for him and if you push it, it'll just take longer. He'll start small, inviting you into his room for tea. Be PATIENT with the boy. Once you start sleeping in his bed it'll take him a while to get used to it. The first few times he doesn't sleep. But eventually, you worm your way into his routine, and he can't sleep without you. Until then, he will happily hold you until you fall asleep, even stay watching over you until morning. But he won't sleep.

Mikey

Bed. Pillow pile! He started collecting pillows as a kid to add to his hoard, which is now comically large and takes up 1/3 of his room. He loves the weird ones and has ones with tassles and beads and insane shapes. It's actually pretty impressive and could probably double as a modern art piece!

Temperament. It's all good! No matter what state he's in, he's always the life of the party. Always.

Routine. He's usually parked in front of the TV until everyone disperses (video games/tv/ect). Then, depending on how hard his depression is hitting that night, he'll either grab a bong (hard) or a bottle (harder). He'll drink in his room , but he'll skate down one of the south tunnels to smoke because he doesn't want to hear about it from Leo. Splinter knows about the weed, but doesn't have a problem with it, because it really does seem to help. He would, however, have a problem with the liquor. Once Mike is thoroughly gone, he tosses himself on his pillow pile and attempts to pass out. Sometimes he does. He gets hangovers from the alcohol, but the second he wakes up that mask is firmly back in place and he's good to go! 😃

Sleeping with a partner. ALL. THE. CUDDLES. Expect him not to let go. Like, pee beforehand. He may not be as big as his brothers, but he's still pretty damn heavy. You are HIS Angel. You are HIS miracle. And you aren't going ANYwhere. Lots of nuzzling/scent marking, LOTS of churring, and when he does eventually fall asleep, he snores like a diesel engine. Just poke him in the side and he'll shut up.

Don

Bed. What's a bed? You mean the cot in his lab? On the rare occasion that *someone* convinces him to actually sleep in a bed, it's pretty much whatever bed or bed-adjacent thing they bring him to. By the time he's tired enough that he can be convinced, he's too far gone to care.

Temperament. When Donnie is tired, expect to be snapped at. He'll apologize immediately, but his temper is a hair trigger when he needs sleep. And my dude goes until he stops. Don's body wakes up before he does. Expect mumbled one-word answers that may or may not make sense as he gradually comes to consciousness over the next half-hour.

Routine. Donnie doesn't make the decision to go to bed. He just wakes up and it's later. When he does wake up, his body has been conditioned to perform all the necessary morning tasks without him having to actually be fully conscious. Sit up. Grab freshly brewed espresso from desk next to cot. Shotgun espresso. Wrap joints. Stand up. Go to kitchen for second cup of coffee (because Raph has already brewed a pot, and because at some point in his teenage years, his father insisted on seeing him at least once a day). Make/drink coffee. Eat the closest edible thing. Go back to the lab. By this point, his conscious mind has usually kicked in and he can get back to work.

Sleeping with a partner. I hope you like to be lulled to sleep by computer fans! You'll get used to the phrase, "go and lie down, Dove. I'll just be a minute." It's always a lie. You know it. He knows it. The wall of computer towers behind you knows it. But he does the song and dance, anyway, because he thinks it makes you feel better. It doesn't. If he does happen to fall asleep with you, of COURSE he's the big spoon. He wraps himself around you and holds you as close as he can (he's still working on getting past all those pesky air molecules), with his beak buried in your hair so that he can breathe you in as he falls asleep (at least the air molecules are good for something).

Raph

Bed. My guy is BIG, and needs a ton of support. A traditional flat mattress is uncomfortable unless he sleeps on his plastron which he HATES doing. His carapace is HEAVY, and it feels like he's literally being crushed under his own weight. Besides, he's in enough pain when he wakes up, and as much as he loves working out, he really doesn't want to have to do pushups first thing in the morning. Instead, he has a carbon fiber hammock that he wove himself. It hangs from a reach stacker arm modified with two lifting jacks bolted to the floor, all "liberated" from the shipyard. It supports all of him with the added benefit of pressure on all sides due to his weight, which helps him sleep, especially when he's in a low.

Temperament. When he's tired he's a grump. He's not quick to anger, but expect a lot of grumbling and begrudging acquiescence to things. He doesn't usually push it too far before heading to bed, because let's face it, pain is exhausting, and if he's laying down he's not having to hold himself up. He's not a "morning person," but he's usually okay as long as he knows there's a cup of coffee in his near future.

Routine. Pretty standard. Shower, teeth, etc. Once in bed, he'll mess around on his phone for a while, watching movies/tv/anime, before eventually falling asleep. In the morning, he rolls out of his hammock and heads to the kitchen for coffee with his Dad before everyone else emerges. After that it's his morning workout and he starts the day. Honestly the mostly boring/normal out of all of them.

Sleeping with a partner. He won't sleep in your bed. He just won't. Don't ask. He'll hold you until you fall asleep, no question, but he won't stay. The only hope for a sleepover is at his place. He likes to give you a big hug around the middle and roll into the hammock with you, and it always leaves you giggling as you snuggle up against his plastron. That's when he sleeps best, with you laying on his chest, his arm wrapped around you. Not only is it added pressure, but this way he knows you're safe.

.......

Tag list:

@thelaundrybitch @the-cauldron-witch @fyreball66 @ninnosaurus @tmntngl @thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos

#bayverse tmnt #tmnt raphael #tmnt donatello #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt leonardo #headcanons

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ginnsbaker · 1 year ago

Text

In Silent Screams (2/3)

Several weeks into her affair with Vision, the voice inside Wanda's head urging her to end things diminishes to faint murmurs, eventually fading away entirely.

Chapter word count: 8k+ Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader, Wanda Maximoff x Vision Warnings: Smut (F/M), Cheating, Angst, Gaslighting, Manipulation, Dubious Consent, Toxic Relationships

Notes: M rating this time. It gets spicier because what's between them is just pure lust. There will be a full smut scene that is a bit triggering given the context of how it happens, why it happens. I will mark it in red so you can skip it. Again, you will probably hate Wanda here more than the previous part, be warned.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Part II

Comfort starts to creep in, wrapping around Wanda like a cozy blanket.

Several weeks into her affair with Vision, the voice inside Wanda's head urging her to end things diminishes to faint murmurs, eventually fading away entirely. And as she allows herself to indulge in the newness of his body and all the ways he is different and not what she’s used to, it becomes even more pleasurable (and addicting) for her when they come together.

Wanda starts to think that maybe being with Vision like this doesn't take away from the love she has for you. It's almost as if she's compartmentalized herself—her relationship with you remains sacred, undisturbed by the dalliances that occupy her days. Vision has become a separate chapter, a deviation from the norm, but he's not taking the place of what she's built with you over time. Every night, regardless of how late it gets or how entangled she becomes in her meetings with Vision, she finds herself retracing her steps back to you. Her days begin with your face, and they end with your arms around her. There's a routine in that, a certainty she clings to.

Being with Vision helps her forget she's even in Westview. She's less haunted by the child she couldn't have with you, by the job she left behind for your sake. She dwells less on missing you, on feeling like she's become a secondary character in your life as you work tirelessly to provide for her. And isn't that what marriage truly is? More than the vows and the rings, it's about choosing the same person every day. It's about finding ways not to hold grudges, to keep the bond strong, to maintain a balance, right?

Her friendship with Vision, devoid of the usual societal filters, feels pure. They share, they debate, they laugh. But as the sun sets, Wanda always knows where she belongs.

To you.

“You’re kidding.”

Vision glances back at her over his shoulder, flashing a playful grin. They're in a park just outside of town, a result of those spontaneous drives they occasionally take. They've found a quiet corner, a place where they can be with each other, away from the rules of their complicated lives. Him being her student makes everything that much more delicate.

“Why would I joke about something like that?” he says, looking pleased with himself.

Wanda puts down the essay she’s reviewing and leans back on the picnic blanket, shielding her eyes from the sun. “You seriously want to buy art from the gallery?”

He shrugs, “I like what they showcase. Plus, I thought... well, it might be a good opportunity for you to earn a commission.”

It’s a weak argument and they both know it. She smirks, “Trying to impress someone?”

Vision pauses, taking a deep breath, serious as he says, “Maybe.”

Wanda sighs, feeling a knot tighten in her stomach. “Vision, we need to be careful.”

“Careful? Wanda, we're miles away from Westview. I'd say we're being pretty meticulous about this.” He smirks, pointing to the tall trees that shield them from any possible onlookers. “With all these trees and not a bird in sight, we could even fuck right here in the open if we wanted to.”

Wanda fixes him with a sharp gaze, one that immediately conveys her disapproval. Immediately, the smirk fades from his lips, replaced by a realization that he might have gone too far with his teasing. He reads the message in her eyes loud and clear. Not only is his suggestion off the table, but he also senses that he may have jeopardized his luck in the coming days.

“I… I’m sorry,” he murmurs, going back to his sketchpad. They don’t speak to each other for a while. Wanda is deeply engrossed in the essays she has to review, already behind the deadline she set for herself, while Vision gives her space to cool down from his mistake. Their arguments are always brief but intense, and lately, they haven't been leading to sex as often as Vision would prefer.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Vision starts, “How is it, being with Y/N? Being married, I mean.”

Wanda stiffens at the mention of your name. She's never discussed you with Vision, and a surge of panic begins to rise within her. She hides her reaction by neatly rearranging the papers alphabetically in front of her.

“I told you she’s off limits,” she answers a moment later.

Vision feigns surprise, tilting his head slightly. “Ah, my apologies. I meant no disrespect,” he says, his voice carefully neutral.

Wanda purses her lips, her posture tensing further. “Just... let's not go there.”

Vision nods, though he can't help but steal a quick glance at the wedding ring on her finger. It taunts him everytime he sees it, reminding him of the life she shares with someone else—a life he often finds himself yearning to be a part of. He's been daydreaming about a different reality, where Wanda is by his side not on borrowed time, where he is the one she turns to at the end of a long day.

He's persuaded her to share her thoughts with him, to spread her legs for him; how much more challenging could it be to win her heart next? He'll take it one day at a time if he has to. Patience is something he doesn't mind exercising.

Cleverly masking his intentions behind a facade of casual curiosity, Vision continues, “Hypothetically speaking, if you were to give insights on marriage, just in general...What are your thoughts?” He leans back, making the conversation seem casual, though every word is carefully calculated.

She glances at him, slightly suspicious but not fully alarmed. “Why the sudden interest?”

“Oh, you know," Vision waves his hand dismissively. “It's just something that's been on my mind lately. As a concept, I mean.”

Wanda narrows her eyes slightly, studying him. She knows Vision well enough to understand that behind his seemingly innocent inquiries, there's often an ulterior motive. But she also knows that he's persistent, and sometimes, the best way to deal with him is to play along, to a point.

“It’s…” Wanda finds herself grappling for an answer. She hadn’t expected that the answer would be much more complex now given recent events. She used to look at it in an idealized way, where marriage is what happens at the end of an epic love story, the banner over the path that the two main characters continue their journey on; the natural conclusion when people say 'happily ever after'.

Perhaps she's been wrong to view it that way all along. Perhaps marriage is just a tool to peel back the facade meticulously crafted during dating, for nothing remains hidden in marriage. To enforce a commitment that's always existed. To harness the rights it bestows between two individuals. To—

Wanda can list countless facets of marriage, and yet it wouldn’t change the way she feels about you, with or without it. She can change—she has, and marriage can vanish from the world, her love for you would persist unscathed. While every fiber of her being might be judged for her actions, she believes her love can’t be tainted. She’s sure of it. And so, essentially, marriage is—

“...it’s an indemnity.”

It’s not at all what he assumed she’d say. “An indemnity? That's an... interesting choice of word.”

Wanda nods, pushing a stray hair behind her ear with a thoughtful look. “Right. It's like our safety net, not just from what's out there but from our own doubts too. It's us saying to ourselves—and to anyone watching—that no matter how tough things get, we're in it together. It's a promise that even in the darkest times, we'll stand by each other.”

Vision absorbs her words, trying to see the cracks, the spaces where he could insert doubt or lay the groundwork for his plans. “But don’t you think,” he ventures cautiously, “that sometimes, that very protection, that indemnity, becomes the chain that binds? Don’t you ever feel... trapped?”

Wanda takes a deep breath, sensing the subtext of his question. He has a knack for drawing out the very things she's trying so hard to keep from him. In the end, she still ends up talking about you. If he's truly eager to hear what she has to say about you, then Wanda doesn’t care if he won’t like what he hears.

“I know what you’re trying to do here,” Wanda says with a wry smile. “To assume she's the one trapping me would be a gross misunderstanding.”

He laughs for a long moment. It's loud and over the top, and somewhere in the midst of it, it begins to feel like an insult. Wanda lifts her chin, unfazed by his antics.

After a few moments, Vision's laughter subsides, replaced by a somber look. “I apologize,” he says, even as Wanda goes back to her readings. “I didn’t mean to make light of your feelings. It's just... sometimes I feel like you're still lying to yourself, Wanda.”

Wanda's eyes narrow, her stance firm, but she doesn't rise to the bait immediately. “How am I lying?”

There it is—his opening.

“Yes. Sometimes, I wonder if you're using these philosophical explanations as a way to protect yourself from confronting something deeper. Something you might not want to face,” he says.

She chuckles, but it's devoid of any real amusement. “And what might that be?”

“That maybe,” Vision says, crawling closer to her until they're just a breath away. “Maybe being with her isn't everything you once believed it to be.”

A retort forms on Wanda's lips, ready to be unleashed. But as she looks into Vision's eyes, she notices something genuine and disarming in them.

“All I’m saying is that you don’t need to defend yourself around me,” he murmurs, his voice gentle, fingers lightly grazing her cheek. “You don't need to explain yourself. Not about this, not about anything.”

His lips find the curve of her neck, placing a chaste kiss there, sending a shiver down her spine, making her sigh softly.

“You can enjoy that,” he whispers against her skin, voice husky. His lips move upward, caressing her cheek before they meet hers. His hand slides to her waist, pulling her closer, until she’s on his lap, straddling him. Her skirt rides up her thighs, allowing him easy access to her dampening underwear.

Wanda shifts nervously. “Vision, we're in public,” she whispers sharply, but doesn’t make any move to get away from him.

His lips twitch into a confident smirk. “I know.” His fingers daringly slide beneath the hem of her skirt, edging towards her panties. “Don't worry,” he assures her, “I just wanted to see if your body tells the truth, even if your words might not.”

Her breath catches as his fingers find the growing wetness there. “See?” he murmurs, his mouth twisting into a boyish grin. “Your body doesn't lie.”

She enjoys it. To be brutally honest, without the haunting thought of your reaction if you were to find out, she concedes she savors their meetings. She’s attracted to him and it’s consuming her every thought.

Wanda blushes furiously, coupled with the fear of being discovered like this, she’s surrendered to this wicked game. He doesn’t worship her like you do. He doesn’t try to make her feel like nothing is her fault the way you do. Why weren’t you disappointed that she couldn’t get pregnant? Couldn’t contribute to your household like equals? Why didn’t you agonize over the financial repercussions of her relentless quest to start a family with you?

Why won’t you ever, ever hate her?

It's twisted that she even thinks of you as she tilts her hips upwards, urging Vision to touch her just right.

Without warning, Vision plunges his long middle finger inside her, causing Wanda to gasp and grip onto him. The intimate intrusion is brief, and she barely has time to process the sensation when he withdraws, pushing her off his lap and onto the soft grass beside him. He holds his glistening finger up to the light, then brings it to his lips, never breaking eye contact with her. She watches, entranced, as he deliberately savors her taste.

Wanda’s chest rises and falls rapidly, every nerve in her body alive and buzzing. She feels exposed, laid bare both by his actions and by the force of her own arousal. There's a delicious humiliation in it, a thrill of being seen and wanted so openly.

But before she can get a chance to speak, Vision reaches into his pocket, producing an envelope thick with cash and hands it to her. She doesn't need to count it to know it's a significant amount.

“What the fuck is this?” Wanda asks, looking down at the cash in her hands.

He laughs again. He enjoys riling her up. Makes this all the more charged and exciting.

“It's for the painting from your old gallery,” Vision explains calmly. “Going back to that, yes, I want to purchase it. And that’s just 50% of my intended offer.”

Wanda reflects on all the support you've offered her, the financial aid you generously extended without ever demanding explanations. A portion of the money in the envelope—her future commission— could be a start, a way to repay some of the debts she owes you, even if it doesn't cover everything.

Not that you’ve ever asked her to pay you back. You’ve never once hinted at any imbalance in financial obligations in your relationship.

“I shouldn't take this,” she mumbles, yet her fingers clutch the envelope a little tighter.

“I want to,” he insists. “Although, I want a special request.”

Wanda's eyebrow arches in skepticism. “Which is?”

“A handwritten dedication from you, when the painting is delivered,” he replies.

She averts her gaze. “I’ll think about it.”

Vision nods. “Keep the money while you do.”

Wanda starts leaving the house early too, going to her lover’s apartment before they go to the university together.

Vision sits comfortably on the plush couch, engrossed in his video game, his fingers swiftly moving over the controller. Wanda enters, shrugging off her light jacket, her simple, functional underwear visible from the thin material of her dress.

“You know, Wanda,” he begins casually, “Have you ever considered just... being in your natural state here?”

“What do you mean?” Wanda asks, helping herself to some tea.

“Your body is a work of art,” he replies, pausing the game now and turning to face her fully. “And as someone who appreciates art...” His gaze travels to her current choice of undergarments and back up to her eyes, leaving his sentence hanging.

“Are you suggesting I walk around here naked?”

He grins cheekily. “The thought did cross my mind.”

Wanda's cheeks flush. “That’s not happening.”

“Alright, maybe not that,” he relents with a mock sigh. “But perhaps wear something more... refined? Exquisite?” His emphasis on 'exquisite' draws a clear line between what she currently wears and what he's suggesting.

She's always prided herself on being confident, knowing her worth. But Vision’s playful, yet sharp suggestion chips away at her armor just a bit. For a split second, she wonders if this is how he truly sees her. If her choice of underwear, something so personal and intimate, is a reflection of her self-worth in his eyes. It's crazy to let his comment get to her; she's aware of that. But she can't help but think of you, of the intimate times you both share, the mornings she finds herself waking up beside you, and the nights you take off her clothes.

Do you notice? She wonders. Do you think the same?

It's all these tiny moments, insignificant on their own, but together they build a narrative in her mind. A story where maybe you don't desire her as you once did. That thought affects her more than Vision's words. The insecurity, an old nemesis she thought she had left far behind, resurfaces.

Wanda forces a nonchalant smile. “Why don't you mind your own business, and focus on your own wardrobe choices?” she retorts, but there's a lack of her usual sharpness in her tone.

He snickers, going back to his game. She hopes you don't see her the way he does.

She buys a new set of lingerie—for you.

Wanda decides she’ll do it by the end of the week. Determined to finalize the sale, she picks up the phone while dinner simmers on the stove. With you still out, Sparky remains her only companion, and a pang of guilt strikes her for having neglected him lately.

She dials the gallery. After a few rings, the familiar voice perkily answers. “Hello?”

“Agatha, it's Wanda,” she says. “About the painting I texted you earlier. My buyer is all in.”

“There's already a bid on it,” Agatha interrupts, “with a deposit ready to go. But if you can secure the painting by tomorrow at the latest, it’s yours to sell.”

“Thanks. I'll make it happen.”

Only after hanging up does she understand that she'll need your help to ensure everything goes smoothly. The next morning, she broaches the subject, and, thankfully, doesn’t have to jump through many hoops to convince you. She loathes bending the truth about the gallery's closing hours, but she's pressed to secure the painting promptly.

Of course, you're there for her again. You even go as far as to offer her lunch, but she has to decline; she genuinely has an appointment with the dean. She reluctantly agrees to dinner, already having said yes to Vision to visit the Museum of Modern Art, where he's also set to give her the remaining 50% for the painting.

“We can have dinner,” Wanda proposes tentatively. “Maybe drive to the city for some steaks and a dive bar after?” It’s tiring to drive back and forth like Manhattan isn’t at least one and a half hours away without traffic, but she wants to spend time with you, and thank you for your effort.

“I'll pick you up at seven,” you say. “It's a date.”

She's excited, but deep down she's aware of the tight schedule. It would be nothing short of a miracle if Vision gets her back to Westview on time.

Wanda cancels dinner at the last minute. She's relieved that you're amenable and just texts to ask her what time she’ll be home.

When she gets her hands on the painting, it takes her a long time to think of a dedication message. Truthfully, writing heartfelt letters has never been her strong suit; she struggles to articulate her feelings. But as she contemplates her feelings for Vision, she draws a blank. She considers simply thanking him for engaging her in conversations she hasn't had with anyone in so long, conveniently omitting their other indulgences. At the same time, she doesn’t want to leave a piece of herself behind, not even something as trivial as a personal dedication.

So she settles on a quote:

‘To Vision, the only secret people keep is immortality.’ - W

On a particular plane, it speaks to her. It's a phrase that mirrors the fundamental human longing for significance and a sense of purpose—something she has unknowingly let slip along the way.

Surprisingly, Vision appears content with the note. Wanda doesn't bother to inquire about his thoughts on it. He doesn't make a spectacle of his appreciation for the painting either, and it becomes apparent that he's indulging in a fantasy from some porno, where an older woman brings him something before he takes her to bed.

The sex is always intoxicating in its own messy way, now that she’s ready to admit she’s not after perfection whenever she comes to him. She doesn’t go to him because there’s something wrong with you. It might be because something is wrong with her, but there isn’t really any room to psychoanalyze her own mental state when she’s being taken from behind, facing a full length mirror. As pleasure builds, her eyes roll back, she briefly toys with the idea that she might be harboring deeper feelings for him.

Then, out of the blue, a red flash catches her eye, but with two quick blinks, it vanishes.

“What’s that?” Wanda whispers, momentarily distracted before a moan escapes her lips.

“What?” he mutters distractedly, pulling her hair, when her head starts to droop.

But before Wanda can form a coherent thought, he adjusts, lifting one of her legs and shifting his angle. With a few deliberate thrusts, she's spiraling into an overwhelming climax. And as pleasure washes over her, any lingering thoughts of deeper feelings for him evaporates along with the haze of lust.

Later, she would brush aside the memory of that brief red flash as she stealthily slipped into your shared home, careful not to disturb Sparky, who slept soundly. With a day off scheduled for tomorrow, she had completely lost track of time, fooling around a couple more times with a college kid.

“D-Did I hurt you?”

Right this second, Wanda feels like she'd welcome the ground opening up to take her or a random bullet finding its mark in her heart. Anything, if it would end her anguish.

She watches your face crumple with guilt and hurt, and she can't believe she's caused you to feel this way when you’re just aching for her.

Without missing a beat, Wanda draws you into an embrace, feeling your heart race against her chest. “No, you didn’t. I shouldn’t have made you feel that way,” she whispers. The mere thought of you second-guessing your intentions with her shatters her heart.

You lean into her completely, feeling like a child in her arms. “I’ve been missing you so much lately, and I thought... I thought we were on the same page.”

Wanda insists it's not your fault. None of this is your fault. She desires closeness with you, but she hadn't expected it to make her feel so uneasy beneath her skin, especially considering she had been touched by another less than 24 hours ago. She has to remind herself that you aren't aware. But she knows, and it plagues her mind, why you’d want to touch her.

Your reply, soaked in typical selflessness, is, “I know. I’m sorry.”

Your apology, the earnestness in your tone is starting to make her feel dizzy. The fact that you feel this way, that she has led you to question your privilege—something she has always granted you—to touch her, is agonizing.

“Stop saying you're sorry,” Wanda snaps, her words sharper than she intends, fervently hoping that you understand her outburst isn't aimed at you. “You do everything right. It's me. I've missed you too, more than you can possibly imagine.”

When you softly say, “I love you,” it's filled with so much emotion that it brings tears to Wanda's eyes. It takes her too long to respond with an “I love you, too,” because there’s many more she wants to say. And she can’t say it without revealing the one thing that she fears will drive you away.

She can only hope that you believe her because she means it more than anything.

Wanda can't pinpoint exactly when she developed the habit of locking the bathroom door. It likely started around the time Vision would text her, innocently asking about her lectures. Then, one day, she received a short video clip of him pleasuring himself and moaning her name. She promptly deleted the clip, but from that point on, she learned to check her messages at home only when she was about to step into the shower.

Natasha visits and something inside Wanda unfurls itself. She becomes hyper-aware of her activities with Vision, how she conducts them and where. Before relocating to New Jersey, you mentioned that Natasha had taken an open-ended break from her job, suggesting she might be ready to leave her old life behind. Still, she’s uneasy when she learns about it too late, and Natasha’s already outside, waiting to be let into the house.

You're still in your office attire, donning a pristine suit that would have captured her attention for the entire evening, if not for the fact that she's on the verge of breaking down at the mere thought of you discovering her affair with Vision.

“Why didn't you tell me she was coming?” she snaps, gesturing at the dinner table set for two and the disorderly state of their living room. Her eyes dart to a stack of her students' reaction papers lying exposed on the coffee table, and the unkempt pillows. To you, it might seem trivial, but to Wanda, every small detail could give away something she'd rather keep private.

“You could've at least warned me,” she continues, her tone reflecting more than just her concerns about dinner and the state of the living room, but you fail to catch it. You try to help, reaching out to straighten the living room, but she's too frazzled. Seeing the frustrated look on your face, she can't help but feel cornered. She hastily scatters the pillows about, her movement nothing short of hysterical.

Sensing that things might take a worse turn than they should, you make the decision to be the one to step back.

“If it's too much trouble for you, we can just grab dinner elsewhere,” you suggest, struggling not to lose your own patience.

She can't help but throw you a sharp look, feeling as though your words only made things worse. The mere idea of you and Natasha, alone, maybe sharing stories or opinions about her, feels threatening. But there’s nothing she can do but hope you will veer away from talking about her, that you won’t confide in Natasha how you haven’t had sex in months.

“Fine,” she snaps and quickly retreats up the stairs. “Send my regards to Natasha,” she throws over her shoulder, the guest bedroom door shutting loudly behind her.

She sighs heavily, pressing her back to the door, heart racing. From the window, she sees you walk back to the car, your frustration evident in every step. Natasha looks at you with that questioning glance Wanda knows all too well. She watches as you speak before handing Natasha the car keys.

She gazes up at the ceiling, determined to hold back the tears that are on the verge of spilling. She doesn't want to push you away, but her fear of Natasha, and what might be revealed, leaves her feeling trapped.

Out of frustration, she calls Vision, and they meet in his car, about two blocks from their house.

In the cramped confines of the backseat, Vision is quick to slide into her, the condom barely in place before he's thrusting with a fervor.

She peaks once, but not from him being inside her. She's too tense, too tightly wound for that. So Vision, realizing this, drops to his knees to truly bring her over the edge.

Later, Wanda lies on her side, every muscle tense, acutely aware of the presence beside her, all the while pretending to be deep in sleep.

“She used to crash at our place almost every week,” you murmur into the stillness.

A hint of irritation passes through Wanda, though she can't really tell why. “What?” she asks, her voice low and weary.

“Natasha,” you specify. “I didn't think to mention it because it was just our norm. She'd drop by unannounced all the time.”

You want to have a conversation about it, to work through this issue. She knows how you’ve been trying to give her space, thinking she hasn’t adjusted yet to life in Westview. You’re always thinking about her. Always putting her needs first above yours.

And Wanda can see how it’s worn you down, how you're starting to doubt your own logical reasoning, and how you're piecing together facts to present your case, hoping for her to be more receptive and listen. She despises the fact that she's putting you through all of this, merely because she's determined to prevent her different worlds from colliding.

She can sense you searching her face, looking for answers, trying to understand the wall she’s erected between you too. It’s so tall now, casting a shadow over both of you.

“Wands?”

“Baby?” you try again. It seems like it's all you ever do these days. “Please?”

Wanda resists the urge to turn toward you and pull you into her arms. She knows that if she does, the tears will flow uncontrollably, and she understands that you won't let her keep her troubles to herself. She composes herself, letting out a shuddering sigh.

“We're fine, Y/N. Let's just go to sleep.”

You give into her wishes, because you will always give her what she wants. She extends her hand, delicately interlocking your fingers with hers. It's the smallest gesture she can manage. She pretends not to hear you, feel you shake, as you cry on your own.

She'd planned to watch the movie alone, in the middle of the day. So, when Vision discreetly takes the seat next to her, Wanda stiffens. A few others are scattered in the front rows of the dark theater, chatting softly as they munch on popcorn.

Without turning to face him, she whispers accusingly, “Are you stalking me?”

“I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd catch a movie. Pure coincidence.”

“You hate cinemas,” she counters.

He chuckles softly. “Maybe I'm learning to appreciate them.”

She’s about to retort when she feels a gentle touch on her hip. Wanda's muscles tense under his soft fingers as they start tracing the curve of her waist, moving slowly downwards, caressing her thigh. Her breath hitches, and she turns sharply to face him.

“What are you doing?”

Vision just smirks, leaning back in his seat. “Thought you might want to spice up the afternoon.”

Wanda rolls her eyes. “I'm not in the mood, Vision. Hands off.”

His laugh is a bit too loud, drawing “shhhs” and glares from the front row. Seeing him unmoved by the stares, Wanda huffs and stands up, making it clear she's moving seats. As she shimmies past him, Vision's hand snakes out, gripping her wrist. “Stay,” he murmurs, eyes serious. “I promise to behave.”

She hesitates, looking at him skeptically. Finally, with a sigh, she slides back into her seat. For the most part, Vision keeps his promise. They sit in silence, engrossed in the movie, but Wanda can't help but notice Vision's restlessness. Twice, he excuses himself, claiming he needs the restroom. She can't help but wonder what he's really up to, but she refrains from asking. Whatever it is, she's not sure she wants to know.

Later, when they step out of the theater, they're greeted by the aftermath of a rainstorm. Puddles dot the pavement, making it tricky for Wanda in her heels. Vision holds out his hand, and she takes it, especially when she almost trips trying to leap over a particularly large puddle.

For some reason, she suddenly feels like she's being watched. From the corner of her eye, she spots the black SUV, parked in the same spot as when she arrived at the cinema. But before she can give it more thought, Vision pulls her towards a bookstore, quickly diverting her attention. She brushes off the odd sensation, attributing it to anxiety since the theater she picked is quite far from town.

Wanda stares, open mouthed and shocked, as Vision shows her his final project for her course.

It's a charcoal drawing on canvas featuring a nude woman, with only her mouth visible, reclining on a bench. Wanda doesn't need a second glance to realize that the woman in the painting is her. From the curve of her jaw to the birthmark on her left hip and down to the fold of her knees, the resemblance is remarkable.

There's no way she can allow him to submit this.

His audacity to draw her in such an intimate manner without her consent leaves her momentarily speechless. She briefly wonders what other liberties he’s taken without her permission.

“What the hell is this?” Wanda questions in barely contained rage.

Vision smirks, arrogance dripping from every word. “It's you, obviously. Pretty accurate, don't you think?”

She clenches her fists, anger rising. “You had absolutely no right. This is beyond inappropriate. What were you thinking?”

Leaning against the table, he shrugs nonchalantly. “I was thinking about how hot you were and I wanted to immortalize it.”

She frowns, crossing her arms defensively. “This was private, between us. How could you think it's okay to make it public?”

“I thought you liked when I took control,” he says, stepping closer, his voice dripping with insinuation.

Wanda feels like throwing up. “This isn't a game,” she snaps. “You can't just use our personal moments as fodder for your projects!”

“You never seemed to mind before.”

Wanda replies sharply, “There's a difference between us being together in private and you broadcasting it to the world.”

He squares his shoulders, firming up his stance. “Maybe I wanted them to see.”

“To see what exactly?” Wanda yells, but the fear in her voice is unmistakable.

“How good we are together,” he says. “Maybe I’m tired of hiding, Wanda. Ever thought of that?”

Wanda's mind races, a thousand thoughts crashing into one another. She's always been able to control the narrative, always had the situation in her grip. But now, Vision's defiance, his blatant challenge, terrifies her. The realization that Vision could, and possibly would, spill their secret terrifies her more than she thought possible. For the first time, she's faced with the real possibility of losing everything she holds dear. Of losing you.

“So, what's it going to be, Professor?” Vision challenges, towering over her in a display of intimidation. “Should I submit this, or maybe...” his voice drops to a whisper, “show it to your wife?”

She grits her teeth, trying to gain some semblance of control. “Destroy it. Now.”

Vision grins, leaning in closer until their faces are inches apart. “Make me.”

“Vis—”

Vision's lips crush down on hers in a fierce, demanding kiss. His hand clamps around the back of her neck, holding her in place as he ravishes her mouth. It’s fervent, consuming, and fueled by a hunger she hasn't felt from him before. Her brain screams at her to resist, to push him away, to regain control of this spiraling situation. She shoves at his chest, her nails digging in, but he doesn't budge. Instead, he deepens the kiss, his tongue demanding entry, which she denies him.

In her mounting frustration, she raises her hand and slaps him hard across the face. Vision barely flinches, his gaze never leaving hers. His determination only fans the flames of her anger further, but beneath it all simmers an irrefutable want. Without a word, Vision's hands descend to her waist, deftly unbuttoning and pushing down her pants and off her legs. She makes quick work of his belt, discarding them recklessly to the side.

As he inches closer, his breath hot on her ear, Vision murmurs, “Say it, Wanda… say 'I want you to fuck me’.”

She can feel the solid length of him pressing against her, and despite her anger, the way he slowly gyrates his hips makes her weak. She draws a shaky breath, the words stuck in her throat. It’s wrong, and he shouldn’t have this much power on her.

He moves in, his lips trailing down her neck, as his hands find their way around her waist, pulling her in even closer. “Say it,” he murmurs again.

“I want you to... fuck me,” she finally breathes out, her voice breaking into a whiny plea that she would never have believed she could utter, especially under these circumstances.

His response is immediate. Before she can fully register what's happening, he has her lifted, her back pressed against the wall, her legs wrapped around his waist. With a sharp thrust, he's inside her, filling her completely. While Vision usually found his release before she did, this time was different. She notices he's holding back, which confuses her. Why would he? Especially now. Wanda, lost in the sensation of him inside her, is curious but also a little apprehensive.

She soon realizes why. His fingers find her clit, rubbing it in a rough, almost painful manner that sends shockwaves of pleasure through her. “Come on,” he urges, almost impatiently, his voice strained.

She feels herself spiraling, the coil inside her tightening. His cock angles and adjusts, targeting her sweet spot, making her clench around him. The slickness between them grows, and his fingers work in tandem with his thrusts, pressing, rubbing, coaxing her closer and closer.

“I'm gonna... I'm coming,” she warns, feeling the walls of her pussy fluttering.

And then she feels it—the unmistakable warmth, the pulsing. Her eyes widen in realization as Vision buries himself deeper, releasing inside her.

“No!” Wanda screams silently, the sounds failing to escape her throat as the knowledge that he's come unprotected pushes her further into her own climax. Her instinct is to flee, to pull away from him, but Vision's grip is ironclad. He feels her panic and responds with more pressure on her clit, manipulating the nub with determined fingers. Each stroke sends her further into ecstasy, locking her in place as his other arm wraps around her waist, preventing any escape.

“Stay,” he murmurs into her ear, his voice filled with a possessiveness that she's never heard before. As he continues to spurt inside her, their hips still weakly grinding against one another, the reality of the situation dawns on her. He didn't use protection. He could—he could get her—

Terror claws at Wanda's insides. Was this all premeditated? Had he planned to trap her like this? She struggles to pull away, but Vision holds her even tighter, keeping her pressed against him as the last of his release fills her. He languidly rests his forehead against Wanda's shoulder, taking a moment to revel in the afterglow. When he finally dares to look at her, he expects to see anger or fury or maybe even forgiveness. Instead, he's met with wide, bloodshot eyes swimming with tears that violently spill over, tracing the contours of her cheeks.

His smugness dissipates and his brow furrows in confusion. “Wanda?”

She chokes on her tears, desperately trying to speak. “Did you—did you do this on purpose?” Using every ounce of strength she can summon, she pushes him away, stumbling slightly as her legs threaten to give out. Hastily, she starts grabbing her clothes.

Vision, looking lost for once, reaches out, but she recoils away from his touch.

“Don’t you fucking touch me!”

“Wanda, please. Let's talk about this.”

As Wanda attempts to regain her balance, she can feel the telltale wetness slide down her inner thighs. The physical evidence of their tryst, the proof of Vision's seed making its way out of her, sends a sharp pang of revulsion through her. Her hand moves instinctively, trying to wipe away the residue, a feeble attempt to erase the aftermath—or perhaps the entirety of their history. Her vision blurs as tears continue to stream down her face, her breathing jagged. Vision, looking both remorseful and lost, reaches out in an attempt to console her, but she flinches at the barest contact of his fingertips.

“Please, at least let me drive you to—”

“To where?” she spits out, her voice mocking. “Home? To my...? I can't—not now.”

Vision's eyes widen, and suddenly he looks much younger.

“Wanda,” he starts, voice shaky and eyes beginning to tear up, “I'm so sorry. I didn't mean... I didn't think… I-It’ll never happen again.”

But the pitiable sight of him, looking scared and unsure, only adds fuel to the fire. “You think a simple 'sorry' is enough?”

The door is her escape, and she's quick to reach it. As she’s about to leave, he whimpers, almost begging, “Please don't go. I... I'm sorry.”

But she's done. With one final, withering glance, she exits, leaving the door to swing shut behind her.

While Wanda waits for her period to come, she can't focus on anything else. She feels disoriented during the day, and it keeps her awake at night.

In her world, everything's spiraling into a fragmented mess, like a vintage vinyl record that's been smashed to bits.

She tosses out reading assignments like candy at a twisted parade, tells the kids to scribble down essays. For them, it's almost like a holiday. For Wanda, it's a desperate lifeline. By the window, she stands. Watching. Waiting. But not really seeing anything. Vision's eyes, burning into her, but she never meets his gaze. She hasn't been responding to his texts or calls, discarding them immediately without even opening them. The classroom exit strategy is always the same: blend in with the herd, avoid the predator. She doesn't give him even the slightest opportunity to get her alone.

Home should be her fortress. Instead, it's like quicksand. Sparky, always eager for her attention, brings toys to her feet, his tail wagging in hopeful anticipation. But her patience is thin, and she finds herself shooing him outside, much to the dog's confusion. She's been bringing home takeout repeatedly, and the repetition isn't lost on you. While you never openly complain, she notices when you start to take the reins, cooking dinner, a quiet acknowledgment of her current state.

She waits and waits—a ghost haunting a lover, a home, a school, a town, waiting for salvation.

She’s more than a week late for her period when she (terrifyingly) decides to buy a pregnancy test kit. Wanda clutches her coat tighter around herself, hesitating for a moment before pushing the door open. Inside, she avoids making eye contact, moving purposefully towards the aisle she's dreading. As her fingers wrap around a pregnancy test kit, her heart hammers in her chest. With the box safely tucked inside her bag, she hurries back home, sneaking glances over her shoulder, feeling as though the world knows her secret.

When she arrives home, she pretends as if she had simply stopped by the grocery store. She musters a smile as she begins to prepare dinner, maintaining a light and cheerful conversation with you. You savor her food as if it were your last meal, showering her with compliments like a discerning food critic, which brings a slight chuckle from Wanda. You peck her lips when you’re finished, thanking her for it. For a while, it seems like everything is back to normal, and that nothing will shatter the illusion that she’s still living her happily-ever-after with you.

She waits, counting the minutes, ensuring you're deep in sleep before she tiptoes into the bathroom. She reads the instructions multiple times, her eyes scanning over each word as if hoping they'd change. It's as though she hasn’t been through this ritual numerous times before, back when her deepest desire was to bear your child. The irony isn't lost on her: in just a few months, she's transitioned from yearning for a baby to fervently hoping she isn't pregnant.

Finally gathering enough courage, she rips the packaging. Just get it over with, Wanda muses. The minutes that follow feel like hours. The silence is suffocating, the potential consequences bearing down on her. She jumps at the slightest noise, every creak of the floorboards or rustle of sheets convincing her that you've woken up.

The alarm on her phone finally goes off, signaling that it's time. With bated breath, she looks down at the test, her world teetering on the brink of change.

She’s hidden the pregnancy test deep in the trash bin, concealed under tissues and other refuse. It’s the middle of the night, and she ensured it is further out of sight by taking the trash outside.

As the initial relief floods through her, it is swiftly replaced by a profound sense of shame. She sits curled up on the couch, hugging her knees, desperately wishing to escape from herself and her crimes. She realizes, with a piercing clarity, that she can't compartmentalize or keep secrets when it comes to you, because you're not just a part of her life—you are her life. The mere thought of you finding out fills her with a terror so profound, she's left gasping for breath. She'd rather face any consequence, even death, than watch the love fade from your eyes, replaced by hurt, anger, and betrayal.

She loves you, but Wanda doesn’t—she doesn’t know what to do, how to move forward.

But in the midst of her life falling apart, an unexpected sentiment finds its way to the forefront: hope.

A fragile, quivering kind of hope. Wanda's lips twitch, trembling as they pull into a weak smile. Maybe the universe is giving her a second chance. Maybe her not being pregnant is a sign, a way out. It's as if fate is holding out a lifeline, imploring her to take it and mend the fractures in her life. With renewed determination, she silently promises herself that she'll devote every bit of her being to you. She knows she can't change the past, but she believes, fervently, in the possibility of a future where she remains true, where she will never stray again.

Still, the weight of her deeds anchors her to the couch, each sob a violent reminder that she's the villain in her own story. And that’s how you find her, in the dark living room, crying and blaming a nonexistent movie for being in such a mess.

“Wanda?”

She looks up and every cell in her body threatens to crumble. “Hey, baby,” she murmurs, her fingers brushing away the tears.

“Have you been crying?”

“Just a movie,” she lies still, “You know how emotional they make me.”

You smile, your eyes full of that nurturing love. “My big crybaby.” Wanda can't believe a pregnancy scare was what it took to finally wake her up.

Looking into your eyes, a surge of need overtakes her. She longs to claim you, to solidify her stake, and leave no doubt in your mind about where her heart truly lies. She wants to show you just how much she loves you, to make up for all the times she has strayed.

She doesn't hesitate. Before she fully processes her actions, she's on top of you, her weight pinning you down, her eyes blazing with an intensity that threatens to consume. “Take off your shorts,” her voice trembles. Your obedient response sends a thrill through her, but she's barely registered the progress you've made before she's swiping a teasing finger, tasting the essence that's uniquely yours. She watches, entranced, as a shiver runs through you, your voice shaky with desire.

“Patience, baby.”

She barely shakes her head, lips parted. “Don't have any.”

And then she's tasting you, each slow, deliberate stroke of her tongue designed to drive both of you mad. Your body responds fervently, and she can sense your need building, mirroring her own desperate longing. “Please, Wanda, more…” Your whisper is a plea she can't resist. Her lips part to take in more of you, savoring the intoxicating flavor that she had missed so much.

“I've missed you so much, Y/N,” she says, deliriously lost in your pleasure. “I've missed making you feel good. Missed feeling this way with you…” She doesn't quite realize the hints she's dropping, but she doesn't care. This moment is real, and she wants it to be as honest as it can be.

Lifting your legs, Wanda applies gentle pressure, pushing them back until they're almost touching the couch cushions on either side of your head. The sight of you, so openly displayed for Wanda, sends a rush of heat and desire through her core. She can feel the power she has, not just from the position but from the trust placed in her to have you in such a vulnerable state. It feels so good, being this close to you. How could she have ever desired anything else when she had this all along?

Wanda pauses for a moment, mouth watering, her eyes hungrily tracing the sight before her. She senses a slight shift, seeing your eyes flit away, perhaps overwhelmed. But Wanda can't allow that retreat. Gently cradling your face, she guides those eyes she loves back, sealing their return home to her with a tender, grounding kiss.

“I love you,” she breathes against your lips.

You smile up at her. “I love you. More than you could ever know.”

Wanda shuts her eyes, letting your reassurance wash over her. Nothing lasts forever, but perhaps this could be an exception.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x vision #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda x you #wanda maximoff #my writing #category: angst #iss #my fic #wanda x reader #wanda x y/n

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meangirls-imagines · 10 months ago

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Frat Parties Suck

Description: It's basically that episode of SLOCG where Leighton and Alicia kiss for the first time but reader replaces Alicia.

WARNINGS: leighton being a gay mess, reader getting beat up, love confessions, fluff

leighton was extremely nervous.

not for her brother or his fraternity. no, she didn't really care about them. she was nervous because the girl she had been pining over for the last two weeks was going to said frat to "inspect" it.

she met y/n after she got assigned community service for underage drinking and vandalism (that she thinks if she doesn't remember it happening, it didn't happen). the president of the school didn't take too kindly to that and sent leighton to the campus women's center.

her and y/n butt heads the second they met. leighton thought she was too good for the women's center and tried to bribe y/n but the girl wasn't having it. by the end of their first conversation, leighton was storming out of the building pissed off and turned on. y/n was hot as shit.

the weeks went by and somehow some way, the blonde managed to kinda weasel her way into y/n's life. she had been making y/n smile more than yell so she thought she was getting somewhere.

and then the frat party came up.

while going through clothes they were going to donate, towa brought up the plan of the group going to a drag brunch, leighton politely declined, stating that theta was throwing a huge party. the group went silent and leighton looked confused. she smiled at them. "why is everyone so quiet? did i say something triggering again?"

y/n spoke up. "i get that your brother is in theta, but frats can be extremely sexist, toxic nightmares. we have been campaigning to get rid of greek life for over a year." leighton sighed. i know frats get a bad rep but theta actually does good. they just finished a construction project in mexico." y/n scoffed. "yeah, for the bar that they burned down."

leighton sighed again. "okay, maybe they aren't perfect but have any of you actually been to a frat party?" silence. the blonde grinned. "so we're making a judgmental assumption?" leighton smiled at y/n who smiled back. "you're right. i mean we shouldn't be judging theta until we go to one of their parties." leighton nodded, satisfied with how the conversation went.

"so maybe we should all go tonight."

leighton shot it down instantly. "no! you guys have your super fun....plans." y/n shook her head. "no, we are going to give theta a chance to prove us wrong. send me the invite." y/n crossed her arms and leighton shamelessly stared at the girl's biceps.

i wonder how they would feel around my ne-

"leighton, you still with us?"

the blonde nodded. "yup. invite. i will send it."

leighton stood next to her brother, impressed with how fast theta changed gears for the party. "we got rid of any and all triggers." the blonde smiled at nico. "yeah, it looks good. i don't think there's anything that the women's center will hate." speak of the devil(s), ginger, towa and the rest of the women's center crew walked in, sans y/n. nico offered to show the girls around as leighton let out a breath, sighing deeply.

then, like something out of a movie, y/n walked in, sighing. leighton felt like she was going to pass out at how hot the girl looked. she wasn't dressed too fancy, a hoodie and some jeans, but leighton felt like she couldn't breathe. y/n smiled at the girl, walking towards her. "so, tonight is going to be a shit show isn't it?"

leighton laughed. "oh yeah. um, do you want a drink?" y/n laughed. "oh, i already pregamed in the driveway but yeah, let's keep drinking shall we?" leighton giggled and led the way to the drinks.

tonight was going to be a long night.

nico was in the middle of explaining how parties worked at theta before y/n cut him off. "you can calm down nico, i know you think that i'm some big, scary lesbian protester or something." nico laughed a little. "i did not know you were a lesbian. it would be rude of me to assume that." leighton rolled her eyes. "nico. less. please." nico straightened up as y/n laughed. "dude, i'm just here to have a good time. now, will you please hold my feet for a keg stand?"

nico looked shocked and then smirked. "only if you hold mine afterwards." both girls looked at him blankly before he whispered. "equality." leighton shook her head before spotting cory. "oh look, it's cory, i'm going to go and talk to him." she left without another word as y/n and nico went to the keg.

after dominating all the games with nico, y/n found leighton outside nursing a drink. "hey." leighton looked up and smiled at y/n. "hey. heard you and nico kicked ass. congrats." y/n chuckled. "all in a day's work." y/n glanced behind her and saw a trash can overflowing with sombreros. "uh, why are there so many sombreros in that trash can?" leighton winced. "i think that they ditched some of the more problematic elements of the party when they heard we were coming and by problematic i mean deeply, deeply racist."

y/n laughed as leighton saw kimberly frantically waving at her from behind y/n. "um, i will be right back, it looks like my roommate needs me for something." y/n nodded. "i get it, i'll be here." leighton smiled shyly and headed toward kimberly.

leighton wasn't gone for five minutes before nico came running towards her and her roommates. "nico? are you good?" nico was panting. "you gotta come with me. it's y/n. some dude called her a dyke and she said something back and then he just started beating the shit out of her."

leighton's heart dropped to her stomach. she took off running in the direction nico came and found the group of people that had gathered. she pushed through the crowd and gasped at the sight of y/n. her face was covered in blood thanks to the gash above her eyebrow. it also didn't help that her nose was bleeding. leighton could already imagine the shiner y/n was going to have tomorrow.

she rushed to the beaten girl's side, gently cupping her face. "y/n? can you hear me?" the girl softly groaned, covering leighton's hand with her own. leighton sighed in relief. nico kneeled on the other side of the girl, ordering his frat brothers to get rid of the guy. "leighton we have to take her to the hospital." that's when y/n spoke. "no..no hospital." it was slurred but leighton was able to make out what the girl said.

leighton sighed. the best thing would be to take y/n to the hospital but she also didn't want to go against the girl's wishes. she stood, making a decision. "no. we're taking her to my dorm."

an hour later, thanks to nico, leighton and y/n made their way back to the blonde's dorm. the girls had gone out to get some stuff to help maintain y/n's injuries since the first aid kit kimberly had wasn't going to be enough. leighton was grateful that her and y/n had some alone time. thanking nico for helping her, she grabbed a washcloth she had in her room and a water bottle, using it to wet the towel.

she gently began wiping the drying blood off the girl's face, being careful of the cuts that littered her skin. y/n groaned a little before leighton gently shushed her. "shhh, you're okay y/n. you're safe." y/n groaned again, grabbing leighton's hand that was cleaning her face. "mmm..leighton. my face hurts."

the blonde's heart broke and she took a risk. she gently kissed y/n's forehead, letting her lips linger. "i know, the girls are getting you some stuff to take care of that okay? they'll be here soon." y/n moaned in pain as leighton began to gently wipe her face again.

the girls soon returned and allowed leighton to finish cleaning y/n up. they all checked in on the girl before bela went to hang out in kimberly and whitney's room. leighton sat next to a cleaned up y/n, running her fingers through the girl's hair. y/n smiled at the contact. she pulled the blonde to lay next to her. "you know, i hear cuddles from a pretty girl are the best medicine." leighton giggled before making herself comfortable on y/n's chest.

the two laid in silence before leighton spoke up. "i was so scared. seeing you like that. i didn't think you were going to get up and there was so much blood and-" y/n shushed her, pulling the blonde closer to her. "i'm okay leight. i'm here aren't i? i have the hottest nurse taking care of me too." leighton laughed before sitting up and looking at y/n.

y/n noticed leighton's eyes shining in a way she hadn't seen before. it was like y/n hung the moon and the stars. she couldn't stop herself from gently cupping leighton's cheek, rubbing the girl's cheekbone with her thumb. leighton couldn't take it anymore. she leaned down and slowly placed her lips on y/n's.

fireworks went off in y/n's head as she kissed the girl back. all this time, she thought leighton was straight. just a common, cis blonde woman. boy was she wrong. the two kissed for a little longer then leighton pulled away. y/n looked shocked. "woah. i was really wrong about you." leighton chuckled before leaning in again.

"shut up."

#leighton murray x reader #leighton murray imagine #leighton murray

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ame-perduexx · 1 year ago

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Astrology Observations🦋

*as always* take what you want, leave what you want

*based only on my personal experiences with people with these placements*

🧚🏻cancer venus: if you've ever felt love from a cancer venus then i hope you know how special it can be. does it feel like love-bombing at times? sure. But i find it beautiful how unabashedly they throw themselves into someone they like. can it be suffocating to someone who isn't fully ready to commit? sure. but its impossible not to root for them.

🧚🏻taurus venus: wonderful, incredible, sensational style sense. thrift shop royalty. impeccable taste. can look good in anything - simply because it looks like a carefully curated outfit when in reality it took them probably 5 mins to throw together.

🧚🏻gemini venus: attracted to people who show them endless fascination. enjoys playing questions games to get to know people. knowing someones favorite color or season may seem pointless but they genuinely find a person's answers interesting.

🧚🏻as a fixed sign .... i have found i clash the most with cardinal signs. they infuriate me to no end. I enjoy the dynamic nature of mutable signs more.

🧚🏻Leo sun/moon: listen....even when you meet one and they tell you: "i'm like the most un-leo, leo ever! I hate being the center of attention!" they are LYING. either to you or themselves or both. i understand why taurus get the bad rep for being stubborn but leo's are stubborn in the way they believe they fully are the best person in the room at all times....which in a way i am almost envious of them? they have a kind of self-love that is unflinching.

🧚🏻virgo suns: make extremely well bosses. are very diplomatic and fair in how each worker is treated and never takes anything personal.

🧚🏻Sagittarius suns: for some reason.... the ones i have met and been around (ones who all identify as women) present themselves as extremely proper and pious in social settings. they love to be seen as the most put together one - especially in work-place. quiet in work environment ... but will talk your ear to death if you're sitting next to them at a dinner party

🧚🏻*trigger warning for SA* 🧚🏻scorpio placements. particularly sun,moon and mars. experience deep sexual trauma. over and over and over again in their life. started at an early age. continues to be taken advantage of throughout their lives. easy for them to associate self-worth with being sexually desired in a negative way. doesn't trust a person if they seem innocent at first, it always turns into some form of a violation.

🧚🏻gemini placements: listen to more lofi style music or instrumental. music without lyrics.

🧚��gemini moons: i know i've said this before in a post, and its a common understanding with gemini placements, but they genuinely are extremely talented with foreign languages. learn them quickly. hear them spoken for a while and can pick it up naturally.

🧚🏻moon opposite saturn: i'm so sorry. i know how hard it is. the depression, the anxiety, the constant self-doubt. you are truly your own worst enemy. i'm sending every person with this placement all my love.

🧚🏻libra sun & moon: have i ever truly had a deep convo with these placements? no. do i still love their company? yes. but it tends to feel surface level with them. they are not talented in expressing their thoughts in a spoken or written way without it sounding....childish. maybe its just me .... either way they would still be the first person I invite to my party. they make me laugh. maybe it's their childish naive view of the world i love. maybe I wish i could see it that way.

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chrissv4mp · 7 months ago

Text

i'll love you 'til the day that i die! MATT S.

summary: you and matt have been frenemies since the 8th grade. when you both go to homecoming, you get picked for homecoming queen, and chris is your king. matt can't help but storm outside of the school angrily.

pairing: matt sturniolo × fem!reader

warnings/topics: arguments, vulgar language, fluff, sorta angst, confessions, highschool au, etc.

a/n: LOVE THIS SONG SMSMSMS also this probably makes no sense towards the end cause i was purely running on 2 bottles of water😖

"matt," you exclaimed, running into his room without any warning.

he jumped a little, eyes snapping toward the direction of his bedroom door.

you took a seat at his desk, pushing yourself toward his bed with your feet before spinning around to face him.

"why do you have so much energy this early in the morning?" he groaned, rubbing his eyes as he had just woken up a few minutes ago.

"cause, i just got big news? and, sorry for being so happy to see you?" you joked, rolling your eyes and leaning back in the chair.

matt hummed in curiosity, running a hand through his hair in an attempt to make it look better, "and what's the news?"

you almost couldn't stay still, changing the way you were sitting every moment or so.

"i got nominated for homecoming queen!" you all but yelled, making matt flinch slightly at the loud noise.

his smile was small, but very smug as if he was gonna say something to bring you down.

he could never shut his mouth whenever you brought up something good that happened to you, he always had to one-up you.

"cool, cool, but i've gotten nominated for homecoming king like years in a row. it's nothing big to be nominated once," he shrugged, keeping direct eye contact with you and watching as your face contorted into a subtle look of sadness.

your frown was small, and if matt hadn't been the one to trigger it, then he probably wouldn't have noticed.

he always did this, and you should've been used to it by now. but, god, did matt know how to push your buttons.

"yeah, well, i didn't see your name on there this time. you're not someone special, y'know?" you laughed, trying to hide your frustration.

matt's grin only widened at your words, "huh. well, it'll be there by tonight. those girls can't resist my charm, not even you, y/n."

"shut up. nobody wants a homecoming king that's an asshole to every girl he meets." you groaned, crossing your arms over each other.

"maybe, but you're the only girl i dislike at the school." matt bit back, leaning against his headboard as he stared you down.

you let out a quiet huff, looking around his room and letting your eyes land on the corkboard he had on the wall opposite his closet.

there were letters, pictures, and polaroids of all of his friends. and in one corner, there was a polaroid of you and him at the beach.

there was writing below it, 'i want u to stay 'till i'm in the grave<3' it was in dark blue sharpie.

your lips upturned into a small smile. he didn't hate you. he never really could, even if he tried.

"doesn't seem like you dislike me," you broke the silence, pointing over at the board.

matt's smile dropped, and his face flushed a soft pink color as he sat up straight. "just get out, would you!"

you giggled to yourself as you got off his chair, not forgetting to give him the middle finger before closing his door and walking back down the hall.

nick looked up from the sink as he heard your footsteps walking past the kitchen, turning around to look at you.

"bye, y/n," he smiled softly, waving over at you and accidently splashing water on the kitchen counter.

"see you later, nick," you smiled, waving back before resuming your walk down the stairs and out of the house.

"birds of a feather," chris said, breaking the silence between the four of you.

nick raised an eyebrow, looking to the side to see if chris was talking to him.

the younger boy was pointing over at you and matt, at the opposite end of the booth you all were sitting at.

"what?" matt laughed over the loud chatter of the cafeteria, crossing his arms before looking over at you.

you were confused just as he was, staring over at chris with an unsure look on your face, "right... and what are you yapping on about this time?"

chris looked dumbfounded, staring at the three of you in disbelief as he scoffed, "you guys seriously don't know that saying? i thought you were older than me."

"by, like, 2 seconds?" nick said, leaning on the table as he picked at the cafeteria food with a plastic fork.

chris punched his brother softly, rolling his eyes before explaining, "birds of a feather flock together, it basically means you guys are alike in one way or another."

matt laughed, looking over at you before giving his attention back to chris, "we are nothing alike, trust me. she's horrible at communicating, and i'm amazing at it. i'm popular. she's not."

"yeah, he's stupid, and i'm smart. remind me how we're alike, again?" matt looked away at your remark, silently mocking you.

"look at your outfits right now, if i didn't know any better i would think you guys are matching." chris pointed out, nodding his head in your direction.

nick nodded, "he's right, you guys look like a couple."

both yours and matts face flushed bright pink, and you looked seperate ways, embarrassment washing over the two of you.

"yeah, more like a couple of friends." you forced out, looking back up at nick and chris.

nick raised his eyebrows, looking away.

"and not to mention the many times you both have said the same phrase. like, tell me you hang out too much without telling me you hang out too much?" chris joked, laughing at himself.

nick chuckled quietly, nodding his head in agreement with his brothers.

"that's a coincidence." you mumbled, sitting up straight.

"it's happened more than i can count, i don't think it's a coincidence of any sort." nick said, looking over at matt, who just dragged his hands down his face.

"well, whatever. not like it's gonna last forever," matt said, and before anyone could reply, he stood up and left to his next class.

the bell rang a few seconds after, and you, nick, and chris gave each other confused looks.

"sorry, y/n. he's probably just had a rough day, i promise you he doesn't mean it." nick reassured you, reaching over the table to hold your hand.

he left a few moments later, and chris stayed with you.

"don't take it to heart, 'kay?" chris muttered softly, smiling at you.

you nodded, and chris began to add on, "i've seen him cry over you. he tells me he doesn't know why. all he says is that he doesn't think he could love you more than he already does."

nodding, smiling softly before watching chris get up and leave. now it was just you and your thoughts at the table alone.

huh. who would've thought matthew sturniolo, one of the most popular guys at school, would be crying over you, quiet, kept to herself, y/n l/n?

you couldn't tease him about it, you did the same thing for him. you always cried over matt, not even knowing why because he had never really hurt you.

you always just sobbed to nick about how you would love him 'til the day that he dies. and after those words registered in your head, you only cried more at the thought of matt dying.

but those nights, you were usually drunk or super high. nick always knew how to calm you down, though, he was always there for you whenever you needed.

matt had also occasionally been there for you in your lowest times, never hesitating to break the speed limit getting to your house.

he always confronted the boys that had stood you up, never let anyone talk bad about you or even give you dirty looks. even if he didn't consider you a friend, you thought of him as one.

"i just don't understand," matt whispered shakily as he looked up at the night sky, stars scattered all around and lighting the place around in just the slightest.

you sat next to him, fingers playing with the blanket the both of you were on, "what don't you understand?"

he shrugged, "i don't understand how anyone could love me."

your neck snapped in his direction, eyes widening a little as a million thoughts came to your mind.

you wanted him to see how he looked in your eyes. he was the funniest, most handsome, kind boy you have ever met (even if he did occasionally tick you off).

you wanted him to know how many subtle compliments you gave him that he never noticed, but still took.

but then again, you wanted to just tell him how he was so full of shit. he knew that anyone and everyone was capable of loving him.

he knew that he could get anyone wrapped around his finger in less than a week. hell, he sure got you wrapped around his finger in just a matter of 2 days.

"i just don't get what people see in me. sometimes i just want to quit everything i do at the thought of it." matt added, finally turning his head to look at you.

your gaze softened as he looked you in the eyes, a subtle look of concern plastered on your face as you reached out to pat his shoulder.

"don't be stupid, matthew. i think that if anyone even glanced in your direction, they would instantly fall in love. you're all any girl would want."

matt smiled, and you reached over to move his hair to see his face better. he was truly beautiful. you couldn't ever get tired of the sight of him.

"you really think that?" matt asked, and there was just the tiniest hint of smugness in his voice.

you nodded, tilting your head to see matt better in the pale moonlight.

"i do," you whispered, and before matt could speak, you cut him off, "and don't ruin this moment with one of your stupid remarks, matthew."

matt's lips parted, but he chose to stay silent. he was grateful for moments like this with you, when it was just you two alone and nobody else.

he loved being alone with you, especially late at night when you guys would have these deep talks. no words spoken here would ever leave, neither of you would bring those topics up.

it was a nice feeling, one that made him feel safe and secure in your presence.

as the months passed by and new memories with you were made, matt felt like you were slowly creeping into his heart, invading all of his senses.

all he could think about was you now, and he couldn't ever get you out of his head. not even when he was in boston, more than 2,000 miles away from you.

it came so fast, and you almost couldn't believe that you were standing outside of your high-school with your best friends, all dressed formally.

you were wearing a satin dark blue dress that went down to your knees, while matt and chris were wearing suits and ties.

matt's suit was navy blue, his dress pants being white to match with chris, who was wearing a white suit and navy blue dress pants.

nick wore an all blue suit, his tie being the only white thing on his outfit besides from his collared shirt he wore underneath the suit.

"holy shit, you're stunning, y/n!" nick exclaimed, stretching his arms out before you hugged him tightly.

he smiled into your hair, patting your back before pulling away from your embrace.

"talk about stunning, look at yourself, nicolas! you look amazing, blue looks beautiful on you." you complimented, smiling up at him before walking to stand beside him.

he interlocked your arms, and you finally got the chance to look over matt and chris' suits.

"we look better than you guys ever could," matt said, swinging his arm over chris' shoulder and pulling him closer.

chris smiled, nodding in agreement as he wrapped his arm around matt's waist.

"i don't know, y/n's dress might beat us." the younger boy shrugged, to which matt rolled his eyes at.

"you tell yourselves whatever you want, we're gonna go inside to get the night started," nick stated, pushing past chris and matt and purposely shoving matt playfully.

the two brunette boys weren't slow to follow you and nick, chris rushing in front of you to hold the door open.

when the four of you got intonthe gym, it immediately felt like you guys were gonna have the best night ever.

the lighting was a darker blue, illuminating all the bodies beneath it and capturing every small movement the kids made.

"wow," you whispered, and nick echoed you.

"hello, and welcome, los angeles lions to our 34th annual homecoming dance!" madi exclaimed into the microphone, her eyes scanning the paper she was holding.

the school cheered in excitement, and chris screamed out an encouragement for madi.

she smiled at all the familiar faces before leaning into the microphone to read from the paper again, "these past few weeks have been a little chaotic with all of the new nominees for both homecoming queen, and homecoming king, and tonight won't be any less chaotic."

"now, i'm honored to welcome up on stage the nominees for homecoming queen," madi spoke before flipping the paper over to the other side.

she read over the names, and a big smile came to her face when her eyes landed on the first one.

"please welcome up to the stage y/n l/n," she said, her smile frowing impossibly wider.

chris and nick shoved you around playfully before you finally came to your senses and ran up to the stage. it was an unreal experience, being one of the nominees, you felt like you couldn't compare to any of the other girls.

"alahna estrella," madi said, reading a few more names over the loud cheering of the students before she moved onto the boys.

the gym went silent once madi announced that she would be calling up the boys for homecoming king, now.

"now, i'm very happy to call up to the stage one of the very popular sturniolo triplets..."

matt got ready to walk up to the stage, but when the name fell from madi's mouth, he froze in shock.

"christopher sturniolo!" she said happily, clapping along with the other students.

your eyes widened at the sound of chris' name being called, and you clapped for him.

nick watched as chris made his way up the stairs onto the stage, yelling out his name and clapping for his brother.

matt clapped slowly, the realization that he wouldn't get to be the homecoming king washing over him. whatever, it didn't matter anyway because he already had 3 crowns from past years.

more names were called, and even nate was invited up to the stage as a nominee for homecoming king.

when the crowd settled down, madi had began to speak again, "now, the announcement that we've all been waiting for... this year's homecoming king is.."

madi's eye widened in surprise before she smiled big and read off his name, "christopher sturniolo!"

matt sighed, clapping for his brother. he was happy sure, but then again he was jealous. things always went his way, and he just wasn't ready for this happen.

was he being selfish?

after chris was crowned homecoming king, he stood beside madi up on the stage, smiling big at all the students of his high-school.

"and, for your homecoming queen. this year's homecoming queen is y/n l/n!" madi said, clapping proudly at you as she watched you get crowned.

you couldn't believe it. it felt surreal, like you were in a dream you couldn't wake up from. as you walked over to chris, he pulled you into a huge hug, muttering a quiet, "congratulations." into your ear.

madi took yours and chris' hand as she walked back up to the mic, bringing all of your hands into the air as she yelled out into the microphone.

"please give big love to our new homecoming king and queen, y/n and chris!"

the students cheered, some jumping up and down out of excitement as they screamed their hearts out.

matt huffed angrily, jumping out of his seat before pushing his way past multiple people to get to the exit.

he didn't go unnoticed by you, your eyes following him as he stormed out of the gymnasium.

you were surprised the door hadn't made a sound, it looked like he slammed into the door without even flinching.

"shit," you whispered, worry flashing over your features.

as soon as you got off stage, you ran out of the gym, ignoring all of the people who tried to congratulate you on your way down.

you ran outside of the school, turning every way to try and spot matt. when you did, his eyes locked with yours.

he was sat on the sidewalk, a streetlight illuminating his face as the spotlights had done inside.

you ran over to him, taking a seat next to him and scooting close to him.

it was silent for a few minutes. the two of you just absorbed in all of your thoughts about what just happened.

"congratulations on homecoming queen, i'm happy for you." matt said, looking over into your eyes.

you smiled, "thanks."

"sorry you weren't nominated, i thought you would have been considering you have been every other year." you apologized, and matt shook his head softly.

it wasn't just that, it was the fact that his brother was your homecoming king. it was the knowledge that matt would never get to be your king.

it was the fact that he would never get to be yours.

"i'm sorry, i just can't do this anymore, y/n." matt stood up from his spot, and you looked up at him.

you raised an eyebrow, worry still lingering in your head from matt's earlier outburst, "what? you can't do what?"

you stood up next, now face to face with the boy you both hated and loved the most.

"i just don't understand what we are, what i mean to you and what you even think of me. you keep giving me these fucking mixed signals and i don't know how to interpret them!" matt held his head in his hands, rubbing his temples in an effort to calm himself down.

you swore you felt your heart shatter at his words. maybe this wasn't gonna be the best night you've ever had.

"what- mixed signals? i.. matt, what are you talking about?" you thought you knew what he was getting at, but as the words came out of your mouth, the thoughts fled from your mind.

matt muttered inaudible words before he finally spoke clearly, "you keep pushing me away and then pulling me back again, and i don't know what to do, y/n."

"do you want me, or am i just some guy you're toying with to get popularity? one minute you're nice and you have my back, and the next you're so fucking cold it's like i'm not even there, like you don't even care about me."

your eyebrows furrowed, he was explaining exactly how he made you feel.

"don't be a hypocrite, matt. i don't even act that way, you're explaining exactly what you make me think. i have all these thoughts and ideas i want to share with you, but when i do, you come over and push them down. why would i even want popularity? i don't give a shit about it, matt!"

"why do you do this to me, seriously?" your voice cracked, and only then did matt realize you were crying.

he groaned, taking small paces back and forth as he breathed heavily.

when he stopped, he was right in front of you, gaze soft as he stared into your e/c eyes.

"because i love you," he finally spilled it, and he didn't regret it. not at all.

the look on your face was not at all what he was expecting. he thought you might he disgusted or even angry.

"don't act so surprised, y/n." he said quietly, cupping your face with his hands.

they were cold, but you still leaned into his touch as he wiped away your tears.

he pulled you closer to him, and you ended up in his arms as you began to calm down. "god, i hate you, matt."

"yeah? well i'll love you 'till the day that i die." he muttered softly.

you laughed quietly, punching him playfully before pulling away.

he stayed silent, a soft smile on his face. as he continued to stare at you, he started to realize more and more things.

one thing he realized was that he never wanted to say goodbye.

maybe chris was right. maybe you two were birds of a feather.

. . . . . . . . .

tags: @cindylcuwho

#Spotify #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt x reader #matthew sturniolo x you #matthew sturniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo x reader #sturniolo #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo x reader #the sturniolo triplets

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therandompagesblog · 9 days ago

Text

SKZ War Chapter 1

Trigger Warnings: none

Lucas Bahng, the born Apex Alpha, liked to think being untouchable was one of his best traits. Being the son of the legendary alpha Christopher Bahng helped. People at school avoided picking fights with him, and the few who dared learned quickly why that was a mistake. Of course, he had the temperament and attitude of his mother Y/N, the Luna, the Omega. Then there was Lucas' younger brother Moon, who was always two steps ahead of him in class and ready to remind him of it at every turn. They even shared classes together. Werewolf lore, art, history, maths, they were together. Even though Lucas was fourteen and Moon was thirteen. The two, however always got up to no good together. They liked to go exploring after school when they were supposed to return home by a certain time, otherwise they would get into trouble with their fathers. By fathers they meant Minho along with Felix who were massive worriers.

"You're going to get us in trouble," Moon said as the two of them skidded to a halt at the edge of the packhouse yard. His voice was quiet but firm, as always. Moon didn't shout or scold. He didn't need to. Lucas rolled his eyes and flicked the collar of his jacket. "Not if you keep up," he said, grinning. He didn't like being told what to do, especially by his younger brother.

They had slipped out of the house early that morning, ducking their father's sharp gaze and the ever-watchful eyes of their many siblings. Breakfast was chaotic as usual, with Holly, Seungmins daughter screaming about not getting the last pancake and Astra, Hyunjins daughter the twin of Sun, knocking over the juice carton. Lucas had barely gotten out the door before Chan cornered him about sports practice. All because he was failing class. Lucas hated sports. Not because he couldn't play—he was decent enough—but because Chan was a mean teacher. Chan was tough on him at school but once he was home he was spoiled rotten. His father adored him.

The moment Chan turned his attention to Moon, Lucas bolted, dragging his brother with him. "Where are we even going?" Moon asked, his dark eyes narrowing. "You know father will here about this. He'll tell father Chan and father Seungmin. Father Seungmin is already grumpy this morning because Sun spilt his drink." Lucas smirked. "Then I guess we don't get caught."

The morning was brisk, the kind that nipped at their skin but didn't quite bite. The forest surrounding the packhouse stretched endlessly, towering pines blotting out the rising sun. Lucas knew these woods like the back of his hand. He and Moon had spent years exploring them, sneaking away from lessons, and pretending to be lone wolves on some grand adventure. But today, the forest felt... different. "Do you smell that?" Moon asked suddenly, sniffing the air. Lucas paused, tilting his head. The breeze carried the usual scents of pine and earth, but beneath it was something sharp, metallic. His heart quickened. "Yeah. It's weird." Moon's hand brushed his arm. "We should go back. This isn't normal." "Relax," Lucas said, though his voice lacked its usual confidence. "It's probably just an old trap or something. We'll check it out and head back before anyone notices we're gone."

The two moved deeper into the woods, the trees closing in around them. The metallic scent grew stronger, mingling with something else, something rotting. Lucas forced down the uneasiness bubbling in his chest. He was an apex, the son of an alpha. He didn't get scared. Still, he couldn't ignore the way Moon was gripping his sleeve now, his quiet demeanor replaced with tension. "Look," Moon whispered. Ahead, the trees parted into a small clearing. At its center stood an old, crumbling house. Vines snaked up its walls, and the windows were dark, like empty sockets in a skull. But what caught Lucas' attention wasn't the house itself, it was the circle surrounding it.

A faint, shimmering barrier encased the house, pulsing with a dark aura. Shadows twisted and writhed within it, and the air buzzed with a low hum, like the growl of a predator waiting to strike. "What is that?" Moon whispered, his voice barely audible. Lucas stepped closer, his eyes narrowing. The barrier was alive, almost breathing. The shadows inside moved with purpose, their shapes flickering between humanoid and monstrous. "Trapped souls," Moon said, his voice trembling. "We learned about this in lore class. That's—" "I know what it is," Lucas snapped, cutting him off. He didn't like the way his chest tightened at the sight of the barrier. He didn't like the way the shadows seemed to notice them, pressing against the edge of the circle as if testing its strength. "Let's go," Moon said, tugging at Lucas' arm. "We shouldn't be here." But Lucas didn't move. Something inside the house was calling to him. It wasn't a voice, not exactly, but a pull, like a thread tugging at the edge of his mind. He took a step forward, and the hum grew louder. "Lucas!" Moon's voice was sharper now, edged with panic. "I'm just looking," Lucas said, though his feet carried him closer. He reached out a hand, hesitating just before touching the barrier. The air around it was cold, and the shadows surged, their shapes twisting violently.

Then he heard it. Lucas. The voice was faint, barely more than a whisper, but it was there. Lucas froze, his heart hammering. "Did you hear that?" Moon shook his head, his eyes wide. "Hear what?" Lucas. Moon. This time, the voice was stronger, more insistent. Lucas turned to Moon, but his brother was already backing away, shaking his head furiously. "We need to go. Now. We need to tell father"

Before Lucas could respond, the barrier flickered, and the shadows parted. For a brief moment, he saw a figure standing in the doorway of the house. It was hard to make out through the swirling darkness, but the figure was tall, with an aura that made the hair on the back of Lucas' neck stand up. "Who are you?" Lucas called out, his voice trembling despite himself. The figure didn't answer. Instead, the voice came again, directly in Lucas' mind Help me.

The barrier pulsed, and the figure stepped forward. Lucas could see him more clearly now. He was young, maybe in his twenties, with sharp features and eyes that glowed faintly in the dim light. His expression was calm, almost serene, but there was an intensity in his gaze that made Lucas shiver. "My name..." the figure said aloud, his voice like the wind cutting through the trees. "Is Hongjoong."The barrier surged again, and the shadows lashed out, forcing Hongjoong back into the darkness. Lucas stumbled, the pull in his chest breaking as the connection severed.Moon grabbed his arm, yanking him away from the clearing. "We're leaving. Now." For once, Lucas didn't argue.

Back at the packhouse, Lucas couldn't shake the image of Hongjoong's face. The way he had called out to them, the way the shadows seemed desperate to keep him trapped. It all swirled in his mind like a storm. "What was that?" Moon asked quietly as they slipped through the door. "I don't know," Lucas said. But deep down, he knew this was just the beginning. "Maybe we should tell mum?" Moon suggested, but Lucas shook his head. "She's always been weird on that topic. Even our fathers have, yet they expect us to learn about it." Lucas answered back. "Learn about what?" Father Jisung asked them as he touched their shoulders making the boys jump. "Nothing." They stated. Yet it wasn't nothing. It was something deep and hidden in the depths of the woods.

Taglist for the iconic readers:

@silentreadersthings @ihrtlix @galaxy4489 @catlove83 @linocz @eastjonowhere @hyunmikim @hpnsfwaddict @tsunderelino @multistan248

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kortsitron · 8 months ago

Text

Corruption

✮ PARING Hobie Brown × Trans Male! Reader

✮ WARNINGS/TAGS reader realizes he's trans, pre-transition reader, religious themes, christianity, fluff, angst, supportive! hobie, reader is referred to as a girl/daughter in some moments, hobie and reader are both young adults, gender dysphoria, toxic parents, abuse, transphobia, cursing, reader is referred by she/her by his parents, happy ending

✮ SUMMARY A stranger comes to your town and helps you realize who you are

✮ A/N If you know me, you probably know my opinion on Christianity and religion in general, but I won't lie, I kinda like the religious themes. Especially when it's about being taken out of it and realizing that the world has so much to offer once you leave it. I guess it's my type of thing since I have been raised as a catholic little ‘girl’ and now I hate religion with pure passion after having it shown down my throat for years when I was younger. One more thing, if you're not comfortable, please do not read this. I am aware there are people who can be triggered by any of the things mentioned in the warnings/tags. If you decide to read this, I hope you're going to enjoy it! <3

In a way inspired by confessions by @eyesxxyou

ao3 masterlist requests

You were such a perfect girl in everyone's eyes. Always so nice and polite, obedient towards your parents, in church every Sunday. You were so feminine, so lovely. Always wore those pretty dresses and skirts of yours, along with the necklace with virgin Mary on your pretty neck. And your gorgeous long hair. You were a perfection to everyone around you.

But you didn't feel perfect in the slightest.

You felt so wrong for some reason you couldn't quite name. Your body felt like a cage you couldn't get out of and you didn't know why. All you knew was that you wanted to cut your hair, hide your body under some baggy clothing and yell at everyone who called you a girl. But obviously you couldn't do that, no matter how much you wanted to. You didn't want people to look at you weirdly, to call you a freak.

So you decided to stay quiet, knowing that nothing was going to change because you were too scared to do it on your own. Scared of judgment and scared of being abandoned.

All you did was pray that your sinful fantasies would simply go away. But instead of them going away, something else happened. Like the prayers from the depth of your heart have been heard and finally answered.

You saw him after the Sunday mass, as you were standing next to your mother while she was talking with someone else. He was nothing like you've ever seen before. Those piercing glistening in the sunlight just like the spikes on his vest. The distressed pants with patches and chains. And those heavy boots. He was the definition of perfection, definitely not to those around you, but for you without a doubt.

You have caught eye contact with that beautiful stranger. His stunning brown eyes stared into yours as he smirked at you. He probably thought you were just a pretty girl, you assumed. After all, why would he think differently?

“Do not look at him.” Your mother scolded you, grabbing you by your shoulder and turning you to face her. You could see the disgust on her face. You’ve never seen her with that kind of grimace on her face. “I do not want to see you near him. I can already tell he's no good.”

She didn't say it, but you could already tell she saw him as the embodiment of everything that was sinful. And the last thing she wanted was her precious daughter to stray from God's path.

You glanced at the punk for the last time before your mother said that you were going home. He still watched you. He wasn't sure what it was about you that made him want to get to know you. But something inside him told him that you needed him.

Since then you saw him around the town, but you didn't dare to come close to him. You felt a rush of excitement in your stomach every time you saw him, saw that smirk of his. You didn't have anyone who excited you the way he did. But he indeed did excite you, but you couldn't even talk to him, being scared your parents might yell at you.

Everything changed when you were peacefully reading the bible on the bench next to the church. It was so warm and sunny, so you picked a spot under a tree. Your hair was made into a long braid that was getting more loose without you noticing.

You then heard someone sit next to you. You looked up from the bible to see him. That beautiful punk, smirking at you shamelessly. He looked even better up close.

“Hello, luv. I'm Hobie.” His voice was lower than you thought it would be. But it sounded so good, so smooth you could almost melt. His eyes looked from your face to the bible you held your hand, then back to your face. You started wondering what was on his mind. “What's your name, hmm?”

You bashfully told him your name. You weren't sure how to act. Was he expecting you to pretend to be this perfect girl everyone perceived you as? Or maybe he was finally someone that could let you be yourself? Either way, you were scared to find out.

He chuckled at your bashful reaction. Your cheeks got pink so quickly. You were just so adorable. And so… innocent. But you had a feeling he could see right through you. See that all of this was just a facade and under all of it, there was a real you, trying to get to the surface. Trying to be free.

“Have you ever listened to punk rock?” Hobie asked out of nowhere. You blinked. You? Listening to loud, unapologetic music? You could never do that. At least not without worrying about being judged.

Finally you shook your head and his smirk widened. “Darlin’, we have to change that immediately.” He saw you shake your head even more.

You heard about punk rock. The unapologetic and loud music for brutal men who have abandoned God's ways and all the rules. At least that's what you have been told by your mother. “They are good for nothing but corrupting the minds of pretty girls like you. And I cannot let that happen.” She told you and you wondered if Hobie was that type of punk. The type to ruin you and corrupt you.

“I-I can't. I am not allowed to listen to that kind of music.” You looked down at the bible in your hands, you couldn't look Hobie in the eyes. You expected him to think you were weird for not being allowed to listen to what you wanted. But all you wanted was to avoid conflict.

Hobie's face went from confusion to smirk again. “Oh please. I can see that there's a little rebel hidden behind those pretty innocent eyes.” So he indeed could right through you.

You nervously played with your hair, wanting to both agree and refuse. And in a quick moment, your beautiful braid was untied. “Oh no.” You watched your hairband fall onto the grass. Hobie noticed it too. He moved and grabbed it, quickly cleaning it off from all the dirt. “Allow me.” He spoke so softly. You weren't sure if you should allow him to touch you in any way, but he just wanted to help you tie your hair, right?

You decided not to overthink it, sitting with your back facing him, so he could tie your hair. You didn't expect it, but he was so gentle with your hair. No harsh hair pulling. His fingers parted your hand so nicely before he began to braid it. You almost melted.

And soon, you had your pretty braid again. Not as perfect as you could have done it, but it was still really nice. “Thank you so much, Hobie.” You said quietly before excusing yourself and saying you had to go. His eyes softened, he only nodded, asking if he could talk to you again. “I hate to say it, but I can't be seen with you.”

Hobie sighed, his fingertip tapped at his lip ring, he seemed lost in thoughts. “And if we meet in secret?” He looked down at you, you were so short compared to him. “You can come over to my place, no one will know you were with me and I could show you some of my world.” He spoke so proudly when he mentioned introducing you to his world. And even though you technically shouldn't be meeting him, you were more than curious. So you agreed at last.

Obviously, someone saw you with Hobie. Your parents weren't proud of you for talking to him. You had no other choice than to lie, just like you did when it came to who you really felt about yourself.

Yes, I like this dress.

Yes, I like those shoes.

Yes, my hair is so pretty when it's so long.

Yes, I am a girl.

You had to lie, even though you wish you didn't have to. But you hoped that at the end of the day, when you were praying before going to sleep, God would forgive you for lying to everyone around you. He would understand, right?

So, as always, you lied, telling your parents that Hobie asked for some help because he was a newcomer and didn't know the town very well. Your parents weren't happy you talked to him, but knew, or at least believed, you were too good and polite to refuse to help him. They didn't think twice about it, allowing you to go to your room. They didn't mention Hobie braiding your hair, so you just assumed they didn't know about it, so you decided not to mention it either. It was better to keep your mouth shut.

You were careful when the day of visiting Hobie came. You told your parents that you went to study the bible at your friend's house. They didn't suspect a thing. You made sure no one could see you as you made your way to Hobie's apartment. And soon enough, you were in front of the door of his apartment.

You knocked lightly, heard the sound of locks being unlocked and then the door finally opened. You saw Hobie and he looked at you with that same softness like the last time. But this time he rubbed one eye with a cotton pad. You had a look of confusion on your face when you saw that.

“Come in, luv.” He moved so you could come inside, but instead of looking around, you watched him.

“Are you… wiping off your makeup?” The question sounded so stupid in your mind. Men weren't wearing makeup… right?

Hobie chuckled softly before going to the bathroom to wipe the makeup off more precisely in front of the mirror. You saw a few small eyeshadow palettes with bright eyeshadow in them, along with eyeliner and even two lipsticks. Even you didn't own that much makeup, you barely had any makeup since your parents didn't want you to paint your face like a whore.

“Yeah. I have been to a small party outside the town, so I wanted to look me best.” Hobie explained, before throwing a dirty pad into the bin. He then turned to you, it was obvious that you never saw a man wearing makeup before. You've never seen someone like him before. He allowed himself to check you out, you had a long skirt and a cute top that matched the skirt so well. “I am guessing you never wore the kind of makeup I usually go for?”

His hand grabbed one of the eyeshadow palettes and gave it to you, so you could see the inside better. You didn't think much and opened it. You hand one makeup palette and it was mostly light browns, one a little more glittery eyeshadow and two light pinks. But Hobie’s? It was so colorful. Red, blue, green and yellow. All of them so bright and pigmented.

He smiled when he saw your reaction, he felt excitement in his stomach. You looked stunned. “Why don't I finally show you that punk rock?” He left the bathroom and you followed him. His apartment was a little messy. Posters on every wall, some chokers and other jewelry scattered in some places and some clothes laying around. But his room was even better. It was so… him. You could see the room scream Hobie. Even more posters, a guitar. It might have been a little messy, but it had so much character.

Hobie moved to the old cd player and in the matter of seconds, the loud music played. Black Flag on full volume. At first you weren't sure what to think, but soon, you started loving it. You stopped caring about anything when the music played, banging your head to the rhythm. At first a little shyly, but then you were more confident about it, not caring if you were going to mess up your hair. You looked so happy, you felt so happy. It has been since you felt like that.

Even since Hobie came here, he finally saw your smile, the real and sincere smile on that face of yours. But he saw it falter when Can't Decide by the Black Flag started playing.

Sun's coming up and I can't decide

To spill my emotions or keep them inside

Go for a drive, go to the store

I'm looking for something that can't be bought there

I always wear a smile

Because anything but a smile would make me have to explain

And they wouldn't understand anyway

I conceal my feelings so I won't have to explain

What I can't explain anyway

It hit so close to home, you almost started sobbing. Hobie saw it immediately and turned the music off. He sat next to you, one arm around you while he rubbed your arm with the other to comfort you. He barely knew you, but he was so concerned about your well being already. “What happened, dove?” He asked so quietly, almost as if he was scared he might make you start crying just by asking.

But you weren't ready to admit what has been going inside your head for months. And he could see that so well. A few tears went down your cheeks so you asked for a tissue. You smudged your makeup a bit, but luckily Hobie was able to fix it with the only brown palette he owned, the one had forgotten about since he never used it.

You gathered your things and apologized. “Don't apologize, luv. Just know you can come and talk about what's going on in that pretty head of yours.” You only nodded before leaving.

Your parents weren't home by the time you came back, they were probably in the neighbor's house, talking and eating how they did once in a while. Probably praising you how good and obedient you were, and how they were happy to have a daughter like you.

And after that situation at Hobie's place, it became harder to pretend. It became hard not to cry when you were called a perfect daughter, pretty girl and beautiful woman. You couldn't wait any longer, you had to talk with someone about it. And the only person who would not judge you was Hobie.

It has been a while since you talked to him. But you came back, trembling, looking like you were about to start crying at any given moment. Hobie didn't think twice, he just let you in, sat down on the floor while he seated you on his bed. His calloused hands found yours and he caressed them gently in order to comfort you.

And finally, after all this time, you opened up about what has been on your mind for all those months. You explained how you felt trapped in your own body, how you hated being seen as a girl and how much it hurt when you were called and seen as one. How much you just wanted to be yourself.

Hobie's eyes softened, his hand touched your delicate cheek as his thumb stroked it. You didn't flinch away from his touch, instead you leaned into his hand, enjoying the way he touched you. “Darlin’, I think you might be trans.”

“I might be what?” Your nose was already stuffed from all that crying, making your voice sound funny. Hobie sighed before his lips curled into the soften of smiled.

“Trans, hun.” You still looked confused, but he wasn't going to blame you. You've been living in a place where you were too scared to be yourself, you couldn't name your feelings even though you have been feeling them for months. It was obvious these people weren't talking about things like that, at least not in the way that would make you want to explore those feelings.

“It's uh, it's when your body doesn't match how you feel on the inside. Like you, you have been born as a woman, but you don't feel like one, don't you?” You shook your head, of course you didn't feel like a woman. Thinking about yourself as a woman didn't feel right.

Hobie got an idea. “Why don't you go to the bathroom and take all of that off? I'll bring ya some clothes and then you'll tell me how you feel.” He helped you with making your way to the bathroom and closed the door after you. You took off the dress, standing in nothing more than your underwear. It felt a bit less suffocating to not be wearing that stupid dress.

Soon, you heard Hobie knock on the door. “I have some stuff I think might look good on you.” You covered yourself with the towel that was near you, not wanting for Hobie to see your body. But he didn't even peek in, instead he held the clothes for you, letting you grab them before he quickly closed the door behind him.

You looked down at the clothes. Some distressed jeans with patches and studded belt, white shirt with some graffiti, which you assumed was decorated by Hobie himself and even some hand warmers to match the outfit.

You had put on the outfit and left the bathroom, only to see Hobie waiting for you. His eyes sparkled when he saw you. And he could see it in your face that you felt better. He looked so excited for you.

But you still had that long braid. “Let me…” Hobie murmured before you felt him touch your hair again. You weren't sure what he did exactly, but when you stepped in front of the mirror, your hair looked so short. It wasn't perfect, but you loved how your hair looked, way more than it looked in a braid, ponytail or any other hairstyle you were used to. You looked like a boy, and you were so happy.

At that very moment, you knew you couldn't go back to how your life was before. You couldn't go back to wearing dresses, praying to the God that probably never listened to you and did not care about you. You could no longer pretend that you were the perfect girl you were seen as until now.

Hobie's hands grabbed you by your shoulder. “Do you want me to call by a different name?” He asked, glancing at your reflection in the mirror as he rubbed your shoulders. You thought about it for a moment, before looking up at him and speaking up. “Do you think [Name] would suit me?”

Hobie chuckled and nodded. “Definitely, luv. Definitely.” He couldn't help himself and softly kissed your cheek. You were surprised by the sudden affection, but you enjoyed it.

“I want you to cut my hair. I want it short..” You said so suddenly, your voice was a little shaky, but you couldn't wait anymore. You have wanted to cut it for a while and you didn't want anyone else other than Hobie to do it. He was surprised by you. He didn't expect you to want to do it now.

“Are you su–”

“Yes, I am sure.” You cut him off, you didn't want to be mean, but you couldn't wait any longer. “Please… I don't want to go back to what was before. I don't want to pretend to be someone who I am not.” You begged, you sounded so desperate. He couldn't say no to you when you sounded like that.

“Okay.” He said, giving your shoulders a squeeze before he took you to the bathroom. He brought a small stool and seated you on it. He grabbed a scissors, untied your hair, looking at it for the last time before he started cutting it. You squeezed your eyes shut, your stomach swirling with anxiety, as you listened to the sound of the scissors cutting your hair.

Snip! Snip! Snip!

You felt your hair, your hair that you got so many compliments on, tickling your arms and neck before it fell down on the bathroom floor. “Done.” Hobie said, his voice was flat. It made you worry. Did you look bad? Did he mess up your hair? Was it a mistake?

He brushed the cut hair off of you, before you stood up and looked in the mirror. It was not perfect, but it still made you feel good. You started sobbing immediately. “Dove? Are you alright?” Hobie asked, worried and a little panicked.

“I've never felt better.” You sobbed out and he sighed, relieved that you liked it. He hugged you tightly, being so glad to see you happy with who you were.

But it couldn't go on forever. You came home pretty late, still wearing the clothes Hobie gave you earlier. And in the hoodie he gave so you wouldn't be cold while coming back home. You knew confrontation wouldn't be something you were able to avoid . And you knew it wouldn't be a light confrontation either.

Your parents were sitting in the living room. As soon as you closed the front door behind you, you heard your father call you by the name you no longer wished to be called by. You took a deep breath, pulling a hood over your head before you entered the living room. Your parents eyes were immediately on you, your mother gasped loudly.

“What the fuck is that!?” Your father yelled, he stood up and grabbed you by the hood and yanked it off your head. He intended to grab you by your hair, but there was nothing to grab. Your lovely long hair was long gone and there was nothing they could do about it. In a way, that made you proud.

“What have you done to yourself!?” Your mother shouted with tears in her eyes. You've never seen her crying and you didn't expect her to get so emotional. She always seemed so cold. “Where's your hair? Your dress?” She's never been so panicked. “What will we say to the others once they see that your hair is gone? What will they think of us? What will they think of you?”

There was this need to apologize, turn the time back and never let yourself explore who you really were. But you weren't going to let this need win. You have been obedient for way too long. You were pretending for way too long and now? You were tired of it.

“I don't fucking care what are they going to think of me!” You shouted back. Both of your parents were startled by the fact that you just cursed. They never heard you curse, nor did they hear you sound so confident. “I have been pretending to be someone who I wasn't me for way too long. I am not going to let you decide about how I am anymore!”

Slap!

Your father slapped you so hard you fell to the floor. Your cheek was all red already. You and your mother were both shocked. Your father was about to take his belt off and start beating you, but your mother stopped him. “I am sure there's something we can do instead of beating her up. People will notice and they might think we were the one to cut her hair off. We can buy a wig until her hair grows back.”

“I am not growing it back and I am not putting the dresses back on.” You hissed. Maybe you shouldn't have done that, but you ripped off the virgin Mary necklace off your neck and threw it.

Your parents were more than shocked at your action. “She must have been corrupted by that punk!” Your mother cried out. “What are we going to–” Your father lost his temper. Instead of beating you up like he initially planned, he grabbed you and threw you out the door. “I no longer have a daughter!” It was the last thing you heard before he closed the door.

Soon, your father started throwing your things out the window. All those gorgeous dresses and skirts flying out the window. Before you were terrified to even slightly rip them and now? You didn't care that they got dirty, they stopped mattering to you. You only waited for your father to throw your phone. You wanted to catch it, but it fell onto the concrete, the phone screen broke, but luckily for you, you still were able to use it. You grabbed some more important things that your father had thrown and then made your way to Hobie's apartment.

He was concerned, but both of you knew it was better that way. If you stayed, nothing would change and everything would go worse. More praying, more femininity, more pretending. But you weren't going to stay with your parents, luckily Hobie said you could stay with him.

You were laying with Hobie in his bed. You were so lost in your thoughts and he could see it clearly. Hobie laid on his side to face you, the tips of his fingers brushed against your jaw to get your attention. You turned to look at him. “You okay?” You put your hands on your face and sighed.

“I'm fine. It’s just… I've wanted to be myself for a while and I…” You paused for a moment, not looking into Hobie's eyes. In a way, it all felt unreal. Usually, you would now be in your bed, reading the bible or praying. And now, you were laying with a man you didn't know very well, but he gave you everything you could have asked for. Acceptance, help and hope.

Your eyes finally met his again. “I didn't expect that it would actually happen. I thought I was going to be everyone's perfect girl until I die, but you came into my life and changed everything. Thank you so much for that.” You smiled at him, you were so grateful he came into your life. He smiled back at you and leaned to kiss your cheek.

“You're very welcome, luv.”

You both left the town as quickly as you could since that happened. Now, it has been 6 years since the day you met him. Everything has been truly perfect since then. Your transition was going well and you recently had your top surgery.

And Hobie? He was with you the whole time. During the first appointment at the doctor, he helped you take your first testosterone shot and he held your hand both before and after the surgery.

Life couldn't be more perfect and you never felt more perfect.

taglist: @sk3llly

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03jyh23 · 5 months ago

Text

🌷⌇ our first day finding our way back part 5; a choi jongho mini-series

ex-boyfriend! idol! jongho x ex-girlfriend! single-mom! reader

│ series masterlist│ │next │

│synopsis: five years have passed since jongho last saw you. your lives have taken drastically different paths, with jongho achieving fame and you focusing on raising your daughter, nari, in quiet anonymity. when jongho discovers he has a daughter, he's determined to be a part of her life.

│genre: a slice of life, romance, fluff, some angst

│trigger warnings: unplanned pregnancy, illegitimate child, single parenthood

│words: 9 k

│reminder: what you’re about to read is purely fiction, so let’s keep it separate from reality.

!minors do not interact!

— hi there my lovely people! i hope all of you had a good week! i'm so happy to finally write more nari as im aware that's what you've been looking for! we are only getting started with dad jongho moments so im excited for the future updates, even if it means we are getting closer to the end :( i don't really have much to say regarding this part, i hope you will enjoy it!!!

love, mon ♡

│taglist: │ @seventeenthingsblr @DALSUWAHA

@treehouse-mouse @ateez-atiny380 @yoonshiiu

@sndeoki @bomi-ja @dearinsaniiiity

@vixensss @all-fandoms-rise

@finnydraws @hyuckiesgf @jonghosbrainrot

@ateezswonderland @stayatinykatsy @chickenscoups ♡

♡ if you wish to be tagged let me know here! ♡

Jongho hung up the phone and started gathering his things, his mind racing with thoughts of Nari and the urgency in your voice. He mentally ran through everything he might need for the day. His movements were quick but slightly clumsy in his haste. He grabbed his shoes, slipping them on as he made his way to the door. Just as he was about to leave his room, he realized he hadn't taken his car keys. With a small, frustrated sigh, he turned back and scanned the room, spotting them on the nightstand. He snatched them up and then reached for a jacket from the rack, knowing the morning air might still be chilly.

As he shrugged on the jacket, his mind was solely focused on getting to you and Nari as quickly as possible. In his rush, his legs tangled momentarily, causing him to stumble. He steadied himself, taking a deep breath to clear his head. He couldn't afford to waste any more time.

"Shit, I can't just go empty-handed," he whispered to himself. Jongho quickly scanned the room, looking for something to bring. There was nothing suitable for a little girl. He sighed, not wanting to visit without bringing Nari anything. As he scanned the room one last time, his eyes landed on a small collection of his belongings, none of which seemed appropriate for his daughter. He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the weight of the situation. He wanted to make a good impression, to show Nari that he was thinking about her and cared enough to bring something special. "Wooyoung's gonna hate me but a man gotta do what he gotta do," he thought, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips despite the urgency. Taking a deep breath, he left his room and walked down the hall to Wooyoung's door. He hesitated momentarily, knowing it was still early and that Wooyoung might not appreciate being woken up. But there was no other option. He needed to do this. With a determined knock, Jongho rapped on the door. He waited, shifting from foot to foot as he listened for any signs of movement inside. After a few moments, he knocked again, a little louder this time. Finally, he heard the sound of shuffling footsteps and the door creaked open to reveal a very sleepy and slightly annoyed Wooyoung.

"Jongho? What the hell? It's barely dawn," Wooyoung grumbled, rubbing his eyes and squinting at Jongho.

Jongho took a deep breath, trying to remain patient. "I know, Wooyoung, and I'm really sorry for waking you. But I need a favor. I'm going to meet Nari now, and I want to bring her something special. Do you happen to have any new Aniteez merch lying around?"

Wooyoung's expression softened slightly as he processed Jongho's words. "You're going to see Nari?" he asked, his annoyance giving way to curiosity and a hint of understanding.

Jongho nodded. "Yeah, Y/N called me. She has an emergency at work. I need to get there as soon as possible, and I want to make a good impression. I thought some merch might be a nice gesture."

Wooyoung sighed, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "Alright but why would I have our merch, Jongho?" Wooyoung asked, raising an eyebrow.

Jongho sighed, "I know it's a long shot, but you're always the one who ends up with the extra stuff after our events. Do you have anything or not?"

"Ugh!" A groan was heard from the bedroom, followed by a muffled voice both Wooyoung and Jongho couldn’t understand. "Sannie, if you want to tell us something, would you keep your head above the pillow, please?" Wooyoung requested, his tone soft when he spoke.

There was a brief pause, then the sound of rustling sheets and a louder, clearer voice. "Woo, just give him the car," San's voice came through more clearly now, filled with sleepiness and a hint of exasperation.

"What are you... oh! Oh!" Wooyoung exclaimed, suddenly wide awake. He rushed to his wardrobe, flinging open the doors with newfound urgency. Jongho watched as Wooyoung rummaged through his clothes, tossing aside shirts and hoodies in his search. It felt like an eternity, but finally, Wooyoung emerged holding a packaged box.

"I bought it for Kyungmin, he was supposed to visit today but he can’t because he’s sick, and mom won’t let him," Wooyoung explained, handing over the box with a sigh. "I'm going to buy him another one soon, so you can take it."

Jongho raised his eyebrow, a mix of surprise and gratitude washing over his face. "It's a car?" he asked, his voice tinged with curiosity and relief. He hadn't expected Wooyoung to have something so perfect on hand.

Wooyoung nodded, a small smile playing on his lips as he saw Jongho's reaction. "Yeah, it's one of those remote-controlled cars. Kyungmin loves them, and I think it might be something Nari could enjoy too."

Jongho hesitated for a moment, considering Wooyoung's words. "But Nari is way younger than Kyungmin. Do you think she can play with it safely?" he asked, concern evident in his voice.

Wooyoung paused, scratching his head thoughtfully. "You’re right, Jongho. Maybe it’s not the best idea. But it's the only thing I have right now. Just make sure to supervise her while she's playing with it. She might still have fun, even if she can't control it perfectly." Wooyoung smiled thoughtfully. "You know what? One day, Kyungmin could teach Nari how to drive it. It could be something they bond over, and who knows, maybe she'll become a pro at it before you know it." He chuckled as he imagined the two kids playing together. Jongho loved the idea, he was looking forward to the future, to see his daughter spending time with his members, and bonding with Kyungmin seemed like a great idea. The sweet boy could be like a big brother to Nari, and maybe one day, they would become best friends.

"Yeah, that sounds like a great plan. Thanks, Wooyoung. I owe you one." He took the car from Wooyoung's hands, feeling a little more at ease with having something to bring to Nari.

Wooyoung waved off the gratitude with a casual shrug. "It's no big deal. Just get going already. The sooner you get there, the better."

Jongho nodded, clutching the box tightly. "You're right. Thanks again, Wooyoung. I'll make it up to you."

"Just go," Wooyoung chuckled, closing the door softly as Jongho turned to leave, his steps more determined now, bolstered by the unexpected gift and his friend's support.

Jongho made his way out of the apartment, the remote-controlled car securely tucked under his arm. The morning air was crisp, and he took a deep breath, feeling a renewed sense of purpose. He quickly got into his car, started the engine, and headed towards your place; his mind focused on the day ahead with Nari. And as he drove, he couldn't help but wonder if he would do a good job. He feared not meeting Nari's needs. After all, he didn't know how to handle a 4-year-old. The questions swirled in his mind, each one adding to the knot of anxiety in his chest. He tried to reassure himself, remembering the warmth in your voice when you thanked him and the genuine eagerness, he felt about spending time with his daughter. But doubts still lingered. Would he be able to comfort her if she got upset? What if she didn't like him or felt uncomfortable around him? The fear of not being able to connect with Nari gnawed at him, making him grip the steering wheel a little tighter. The weight of responsibility felt immense. Jongho's mind kept racing with scenarios, each one more daunting than the last. What if Nari got hurt while they were playing? Would he know how to handle a scraped knee or a bump on the head? The thought of his daughter in pain made his heartache. He also worried about making sure she had a good time. He wanted her to feel happy and cherished, to have fun, and to create positive memories with him. The pressure to make everything perfect was overwhelming. Yet, amidst all the worries, there was a flicker of hope. The thought of seeing Nari's smile, of hearing her laugh, filled him with determination. He was willing to try his best. He knew that being present and attentive were the most important things he could offer. And with that thought, Jongho felt a small sense of calm wash over him. He took another deep breath, focusing on the road ahead, and silently promised himself that he would do everything in his power to be the father Nari deserved. He pulled his car into the parking lot of your apartment complex, the engine's hum gradually fading as he turned it off. Jongho took a moment to collect his thoughts, his fingers drumming nervously on the steering wheel. The morning sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon, casting a soft, golden light across the surroundings. Taking a deep breath, he grabbed the box with the toy inside and stepped out of the car, the cool morning air brushing against his skin. As he closed the door to his car, Jongho noticed a small flower shop across the street. A delivery car was parked in front of the entrance, overflowing with beautiful flowers. The sight of the vibrant blooms caught his eye, and he jogged over, hoping it wouldn't take too much time.

"Excuse me? Are you open?" he called out as he approached the shop.

An old lady with white curly hair and a kind smile on her face turned to him. "Oh, hello young man," she replied warmly. "We are not opening until later today."

Jongho's face fell slightly, but he quickly gathered himself. "I see. It's just that I'm in a bit of a hurry, and I wanted to get something special for my daughter. It's our first day really spending time together, and I thought some flowers might brighten her day."

The old lady's expression softened even more. "Your daughter, you say? How sweet. Well, I suppose I could make an exception just this once. What kind of flowers were you thinking of?"

Jongho smiled, relief washing over him. "Thank you so much. I'm not entirely sure, to be honest. Maybe something colorful?"

The old lady nodded thoughtfully and walked over to the delivery car. "I think I have just the thing," she said, selecting a small bouquet of mixed flowers. The arrangement was a delightful mix of daisies, tulips, and a few roses, bursting with color and life. "These should do nicely," she said, handing the bouquet to Jongho. "I hope your daughter loves them."

Jongho took the bouquet, his smile widening. "I'm sure she will. Thank you again, really. You've made my day a lot easier."

The old lady chuckled softly, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "How about a little something for your wife as well, dear? A thoughtful gesture can go a long way."

"My wife?" he asked, at first, he furrowed his brow but soon a soft smile appeared on his lips, he couldn't help but feel warm inside at the thought of being married to you. The assumption of the lady made his heart race, a soft blush creeping up his cheeks. He hadn't thought about getting a bouquet for you, but now he found himself considering it. The idea of surprising you with flowers, of seeing your face light up with a smile, filled him with a sense of joy and anticipation. He imagined you standing at the door, bouquet in hand, your eyes sparkling with surprise and happiness. The image was so vivid and heartwarming that he couldn't resist. "You know what, that's a wonderful idea," Jongho said, his voice filled with newfound excitement. "I'll take another bouquet for my wife as well."

The old lady's smile widened as she selected another beautiful arrangement, this one with soft pastel colors and delicate blooms. "Here you go, young man. I hope both your daughter and wife have a lovely day," she said, handing him the second bouquet.

Jongho accepted the flowers, his heart swelling with gratitude. "Thank you so much. You've really made my day," he replied, his voice sincere. He took out his wallet and paid, leaving a big tip. The flower shop owner looked a bit frustrated.

"Oh, that's way too much!" she exclaimed, trying to hand some of the money back.

"Please, keep it," Jongho insisted with a warm smile. "Consider it a thank you for your kindness." The old lady sighed but eventually accepted, her expression softening.

"Alright, if you insist. Thank you, and good luck with your day," she said, waving him off.

As Jongho approached your apartment complex, he felt a mix of nerves and excitement. Balancing the bouquets and the remote-controlled car, he made his way up the stairs, replaying the conversation with the flower shop owner in his mind. He hoped the flowers would bring a smile to both your faces and help ease the tension of the morning. He took a deep breath before knocking on your door, the sound echoing softly in the early morning quiet. Moments later, the door opened to reveal you, a look of relief washing over your face as you saw Jongho standing there with flowers in his hand.

"Jongho, you didn't have to—" you started, but he gently interrupted you.

"I wanted to. For you," he said softly, handing you the bouquet. "I thought it might brighten your day a bit."

You took the flowers, a smile spreading across your face. "I can't remember the last time someone got me flowers." You took the bouquet, your smile growing wider as you brought it to your nose and inhaled its fresh scent. The tension in your shoulders seemed to melt away, replaced by a sense of warmth and appreciation. "Thank you, this really means a lot to me," you said, your voice soft with emotion.

Jongho felt his heart lighten at your response, a small smile playing on his lips. "Thank you for accepting them," Jongho replied, his voice filled with warmth. "I just wanted to make you smile."

As you let him into the apartment, you noticed another bouquet in his hand and a big box under his arm. "What's all this?" you asked, curiosity piqued as you glanced at the items he was carrying.

Jongho grinned, holding up the second bouquet. "This one is for Nari. I thought she might like some flowers too." He then gestured to the box. "And I brought her a little gift. It's a remote-controlled car. I hope she will like it."

Your heart swelled with appreciation, and you couldn't help but smile at his thoughtfulness. "That's so sweet of you. She's going to love it."

Jongho's grin widened, a sense of relief washing over him. "I'm just happy to spend time with her and make her day special." You led him inside, placing the flowers in a vase on the kitchen counter.

"I will go and wake her up," you announced, turning towards her room.

Jongho hesitated, a look of concern crossing his face. "Do you have to? It's still early," he said softly, his eyes glancing towards the clock on the wall. "I don't want to disrupt her sleep."

"She might feel a little overwhelmed when she wakes up and I'm not here," you said, a touch of worry in your voice. "She's not used to waking up without me around, and I know it could be a bit disorienting for her." You paused for a moment, your eyes softening as you looked at Jongho. "If you will want to come over more often, then with time she will get used to waking up to you," you reassured him, your voice gentle and comforting. "It might take a little while, but children are adaptable. She'll come to expect and look forward to seeing you in the mornings. It will be a new routine for her, and routines can be very comforting for kids. Plus, having you around more often will help her feel more secure and loved."

Jongho listened intently, feeling a sense of hope and determination growing within him. Your words were like a soothing balm to his worries, and he couldn't help but smile at the thought of becoming a consistent presence in Nari's life. "Thank you, Y/N," he said softly, his voice filled with gratitude. "That really means a lot to me. I'll do my best to be there for her, to be someone she can rely on."

You nodded, your eyes meeting his with a look of understanding and support. "I know you will, Jongho. You're already doing a great job by being here today. Just take it one step at a time, and everything will fall into place."

You went to Nari's room, the sight of her sleeping peacefully brought a warm smile to your face, but you knew that you had to wake her. "Sweetheart?" you called softly, your voice gentle as you reached out to gently brush her hair from her forehead. You kneeled beside her bed, your heart heavy with the knowledge that you were about to disrupt her peaceful slumber. "Nari, it's time to wake up," you whispered, your tone soothing and filled with love. You hated to wake her up, especially when she looked so serene, but you knew it was for the best. The day ahead was important, and you wanted to make sure she had time to adjust and feel comfortable with Jongho's presence. As Nari stirred and slowly opened her eyes, you gave her a reassuring smile. "Good morning, my little angel, I know it's early, but mommy needs to leave for work, and somebody special will keep you company today," you said softly, "I know you'll have a wonderful time together," you continued, giving her a reassuring smile. "He's looking forward to playing with you and making today really fun."

Nari blinked sleepily, her eyes gradually focusing on you. "Who, mommy?" she asked, her voice still groggy from sleep.

"It's Uncle Jongho, sweetie," you replied gently. "He's waiting with a special surprise just for you." Nari's eyes widened with curiosity and excitement, and she slowly sat up, rubbing her eyes. "Do you want to go together with mommy and see him?" you asked, your voice filled with warmth and encouragement. Nari nodded eagerly, her excitement growing at the prospect of seeing Jongho and the special surprise he had brought. Taking her small body in your arms, you took her to the living room where Jongho was waiting. The moment Nari saw the flowers and the box, her eyes lit up with wonder. "Look, Nari, Uncle Jongho brought you some flowers and a special gift," you said, your voice filled with warmth.

Your daughter’s face broke into a wide smile as she looked at the flowers and the box. "For me?" she asked, her voice filled with delight.

Jongho nodded, "Yes, for you, princess. I hope you like them," he said warmly, handing her the bouquet and the box. Nari took the flower in her tiny hand, her eyes lighting up with delight. She smiled brightly, then hid her face behind the bouquet, her giggle filling the living room with a sound as sweet as music. The sight of her joy was enough to melt anyone's heart, and it was clear that the flowers had made a wonderful impression. Her reaction brought a sense of warmth and accomplishment to Jongho, who watched her with a tender expression, feeling more determined than ever to make the day special for her.

"Can Uncle give you a hug?" Jongho asked, his arms spread wide to welcome her tiny figure. Nari looked at him with big, curious eyes, her smile growing even wider. She hesitated for just a moment before nodding eagerly, you took a step closer to Jongho, so he could take her in his arms, and the second he did so, Nari wrapped her small hands around Jongho's neck.

Jongho's heart melted as he gently hugged her back, feeling the warmth and innocence of her embrace. "Thank you, princess," he whispered softly, his voice filled with emotion. "I'm so happy to be here with you today."

Nari giggled, her laughter like a sweet melody filling the room. "I'm happy too, Uncle Jongho!" she said, her voice bright with excitement.

Jongho put her down, looking into her sparkling eyes. "We're going to have so much fun today, I promise," he said, his tone full of genuine eagerness.

Nari's eyes lit up even more, the anticipation of the day's adventures evident on her face. "Okay! What are we going to do first?" she asked, her curiosity bubbling over.

Jongho chuckled, glancing over at you with a grateful smile. "Well, we have a whole day ahead of us. How about we start with opening your special gift?" he suggested, pointing to the box with the remote-controlled car.

"How about starting with breakfast?" you chimed in with a warm smile as you began to gather your belongings to leave. You glanced at Nari, who was still beaming from the excitement of seeing Jongho and her new gifts.

"Mommy's right," Jongho agreed with a chuckle, smile ever leaving his face, "Let's have some breakfast first. We can open your special gift."

Nari looked up at both of you, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Okay, Uncle Jongho!" she said eagerly, her small hands still clutching the bouquet of flowers he had given her.

You nodded in agreement, your smile widening as you saw the bond beginning to form between Jongho and Nari. "Breakfast sounds like a great idea. How about some pancakes and fruit?" you suggested, knowing it was one of Nari's favorite meals.

Jongho's eyes lit up at the idea. "Pancakes and fruits it is, then," he said enthusiastically.

"Sweetheart, mommy is leaving, come give me a kiss," you called softly, bending down to Nari's level. Nari quickly ran over to you, her tiny arms wrapping around your neck as she planted a sweet kiss on your cheek. "I love you, mommy," she whispered, her voice filled with warmth.

"I love you too, my little angel," you replied, hugging her tightly before standing up and giving Jongho a grateful smile.

"I'm taking Nari to the studio later," Jongho reminded you, his voice gentle. "Do you have a child seat for her? I want to make sure she's safe and comfortable during the ride."

You nodded, appreciating his thoughtfulness. "Yes, I have one in the closet. Let me get it for you," you replied, heading towards the closet to retrieve the seat. "Thank you for being so considerate, Jongho."

Jongho smiled warmly, his eyes reflecting his genuine concern. "Of course, Y/N. I just want to make sure everything goes smoothly today."

You handed him the child seat, feeling a sense of gratitude for his attentiveness. "Here it is. I know she'll be in good hands with you."

Jongho took the seat from you, his expression one of determination and affection. "Thank you. We'll have a great time, I promise."

"Take good care of her, Jongho. And have fun, you two."

Jongho nodded, his heart swelling with determination and affection. "I will, Y/N. Don't worry, we'll have a great time."

You gave them both one last smile before heading out the door, feeling a sense of peace knowing that Nari was in good hands.

"So, would you like to help me with the pancakes?" Jongho smiled warmly at his little daughter, his eyes twinkling with excitement. He moved towards the kitchen, opening the shelves in search of a pan and a bowl.

Nari's eyes lit up with enthusiasm, and she nodded eagerly. "Yes, Uncle Jongho! I love helping!" she exclaimed, her small hands clapping together in excitement.

Jongho chuckled at her enthusiasm. "Great! Let's find everything we need first," he said, pulling out a pan and a large mixing bowl. He placed them on the counter and started to gather the ingredients: flour, eggs, milk, and a few other essentials.

Nari watched him intently, her curiosity piqued. "Can I crack the eggs?" she asked, her voice filled with anticipation.

Jongho smiled and nodded. "Of course, princess. Just be careful, okay?" he said, handing her an egg. He guided her little hands, helping her crack the egg into the bowl without making a mess. "Great job!" he praised, ruffling her hair gently. Nari beamed with pride, her cheeks flushing with happiness. As they continued working together, Jongho explained each step, making sure to keep Nari engaged and involved. They measured out the flour, poured the milk, and mixed everything together, creating a smooth batter. Nari's giggles filled the room as she helped stir, her enthusiasm infectious "You're a natural chef, Nari," Jongho said with a grin. "I couldn't have done this without you."

Nari's eyes sparkled with joy. "This is so much fun!"

Jongho felt a warm sense of accomplishment as he watched Nari's excitement. The kitchen was filled with the delicious aroma of pancakes cooking on the stove, and he couldn't help but feel grateful for this precious time with her. "All right let's flip these pancakes and get ready to eat," Jongho said, expertly turning the golden-brown pancakes. "I think we're going to have a delicious breakfast, thanks to you."

Nari giggled, her eyes shining with pride. "I can't wait to eat them!"

Jongho plated the pancakes and added a generous serving of fresh fruit on the side. As they sat down to eat, he couldn't help but smile at the sight of Nari's delighted expression. "How do you like them? Do they taste good?" Jongho asked, watching Nari take her first bite of the pancakes.

Nari's eyes widened in delight as she chewed, and she quickly nodded, her mouth too full to speak. After swallowing, she grinned at Jongho. "They're yummy, Uncle Jongho! The best pancakes ever!"

Jongho's heart swelled with pride and relief. "I'm so glad you like them, princess," he said, taking a bite himself. The pancakes were light and fluffy, with just the right amount of sweetness from the fresh fruit. They continued eating, the room filled with the happy sound of Nari's giggles and the clink of forks against plates. Jongho couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over him. This moment, this simple breakfast, was everything he had hoped for and more.

Nari chewed on her pancakes, her legs dangling from the chair. She glanced around as if making sure no one else was listening, a mischievous sparkle in her eyes. "Just don't tell Mommy I told you this," she giggled, leaning closer to Jongho. She cupped her small hand around her mouth to whisper, adding an air of secrecy to her words. "But your pancakes are better than Mommy's."

Jongho couldn't help but chuckle at her adorable confession. "Oh, really?" he whispered back, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "I promise I won't tell. It'll be our little secret."

Nari nodded vigorously, her giggles filling the room. "Okay, Uncle Jongho. It's a secret!" she said, her voice a mix of excitement and delight, as if she had just shared the most important secret in the world.

After they finished eating, Jongho helped Nari clean up the kitchen, turning the chore into a fun game. They washed the dishes together, Nari's laughter echoing through the apartment as she splashed water playfully. Once everything was clean, Jongho turned to Nari with a smile. "Ready to open your special gift now?" he asked, gesturing to the box with the remote-controlled car.

Nari's eyes lit up with excitement. "Yes, please!" she squealed, bouncing on her toes. Jongho chuckled and led her to the sofa, where the box was waiting. He carefully helped her open it, revealing the shiny remote-controlled car inside. Nari's face lit up with pure joy as she examined the car, her fingers tracing over its sleek surface.

"Wow, it's so cool!" she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with wonder. "It's my first car!"

Jongho handed her the remote control. "Want to give it a try?" he asked with a grin. Nari eagerly took the remote, her small fingers gripping it tightly. With a little guidance from Jongho, she soon had the car zooming around the living room, her laughter filling the space as she chased it around. Jongho watched her with a smile, feeling a sense of fulfillment wash over him. This was what it was all about, creating these precious moments, building memories, and being there for her. As the car raced around the room, Nari's giggles were contagious, filling the apartment with joy. Jongho couldn't help but join in the fun, cheering her on and occasionally taking the remote to show her a few tricks. The morning flew by in a whirlwind of laughter and play, each moment more precious than the last.

Jongho didn't notice the time passing untill his phone started to ring in his pocket. He picked it up, seeing Hongjoong calling him. "Hey, I heard from Wooyoung that you had a small emergency. Should we start the practice without you?" Hongjoong asked, his voice filled with concern.

Jongho glanced at Nari, who was happily playing with her new toy. "Yeah, something came up," Jongho replied, "I'm taking care of Nari today. It's... it's really important."

Hongjoong's tone softened. "I understand, she comes first. We can manage practice without you for today."

"Thanks, hyung. I really appreciate it. But we'll be there as soon as we can. I just need to prepare Nari to leave, and then we will join you guys."

"You sure you want to come today? It's fine if you want to skip and spend time with her." Hongjoong's voice was filled with understanding.

"No, no, it's fine. Until I am not officially on hiatus, I want to continue with practices," Jongho insisted, determination evident in his tone.

Hongjoong sighed but didn't push further. "Alright, Jongho. Just take your time and join us when you can."

"Thanks, Hongjoong. I'll see you soon," Jongho said, hanging up the phone with a renewed sense of purpose.

Jongho took a deep breath, glancing around the room for a moment before turning his attention back to Nari. "Alright, princess, we need to get ready to go out," he said gently, crouching down to her level. "We're going to meet the rest of the uncles today, what do you say?"

Nari looked up at him with wide, curious eyes. "Really? Can I bring my car?" she asked, her excitement bubbling over. "Oh! Is Uncle Wooyoungie going to be there?!" she jumped from excitement, her eyes shining with anticipation. Nari's energetic reaction brought a warm smile to Jongho's face. He could see how much she adored Wooyoung, and the thought of seeing him made her even more enthusiastic.

Jongho nodded, sharing her excitement. "Yes, Uncle Wooyoung will be there, along with the rest of the uncles. They're all looking forward to meeting you again," he said warmly.

Nari's excitement was palpable as she started to bounce on her toes. "Yay! I can't wait to show Uncle Wooyoung my new car! He's going to love it!" She clutched the car tightly, her joy filling the room.

Jongho chuckled, feeling a sense of pride and happiness. "I'm sure he'll be very impressed. Did you know that Uncle Wooyoung has a little brother who also likes cars?" Jongho mentioned, "Maybe you can play with him too sometime."

Nari's eyes widened with excitement. "Really? That sounds fun! I can't wait to meet him!" she exclaimed, her enthusiasm growing even more.

Jongho smiled, feeling a sense of warmth at her excitement. "I'm sure you'll get along great. Now, let's get ready and head out. We don't want to keep Uncle Wooyoung and the others waiting. Should I help you dress up?" Jongho asked gently, looking down at Nari with a warm smile.

"Uncle, don't be silly! I'm a big girl, I can dress myself!" Nari replied with a confident smile, already running off to her room to pick out her outfit.

Jongho chuckled, watching her with a proud smile. "Alright, princess. I'll be right here if you need any help," he called after her, feeling a sense of admiration for her independence. As Nari disappeared into her room, Jongho took a moment to tidy up the living room, making sure everything was in order before they left. He glanced at his phone, checking the time and mentally planning the rest of the day.

He heard Nari's little steps running toward the living room, "Uncle Jongho, can you help me reach my shelf, please?" she asked, her voice filled with determination and a hint of impatience.

Jongho looked up from tidying the living room, a warm smile spreading across his face. "Of course, princess. Let's see what we need to get from your shelf," he replied, following her.

Nari led him to her bedroom, pointing excitedly at a high shelf where her favorite outfit was stored. "I want to wear my special, yellow dress today," she explained, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. "It's up there, but I can't reach it."

Jongho chuckled softly, appreciating her independence and enthusiasm. "No problem, Nari. Let's get that dress for you," he said, reaching up to grab the outfit. As he handed it to her, he couldn't help but feel a surge of affection for the little girl who had quickly found a special place in his heart.

Nari took the dress from him with a grateful smile. "Thank you, Uncle! You're the best," she said, hugging the dress to her chest. "I can't wait to show everyone my special dress and my new car."

Jongho's heart warmed at her words, and he ruffled her hair gently. "You're going to look beautiful, princess. Let's get you dressed and ready to go meet the uncles," he said, feeling a sense of pride and joy as he watched her excitement. Nari nodded eagerly, her smile widening as she hurried to put on her special dress. Jongho stood by, ready to assist if needed, "Can you show me where you keep your tights? It's a bit chilly outside, and we need to put them on," Jongho asked gently, looking down at Nari with a warm smile.

Nari pointed to a drawer with a determined look. "They're in there," she said confidently. Jongho opened the drawer and Nari quickly found a pair of tights that matched her dress perfectly. "Good choice, princess, the bees on thighs will look pretty with the yellow dress" he complimented, taking her to his lap to help her put them on. "Now you're all set to go."

"I need to pack my backpack," she smiled, her excitement evident. "And I need to put on my earrings," she continued, starting to count on her fingers with a look of determination. "We also need to make up my bed before leaving! Oh, and I can't forget my bunny," she added, glancing around the room as if mentally checking off each task. "There's so much left to do!"

Jongho chuckled, appreciating her thoroughness. "Alright, princess," he said warmly, "let's tackle everything one step at a time. I'll help you with your bag first, then we can find your earrings and make your bed together. How does that sound?"

Nari nodded eagerly, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "That sounds perfect!" she said, grabbing her small backpack from her desk and starting to fill it with her essentials.

Jongho felt a swell of affection as he watched her diligently prepare for their outing. Firstly, Nari packed her crayons, and a coloring book. She looked around the room again to ensure she got all she wanted with her. "Let's make sure we have everything we need, and then we'll be ready to go on our adventure." Once Nari had packed her bag and put on her earrings, Jongho helped her make the bed, they worked together, laughing and chatting, and soon the room was neat and tidy. "All set, princess?" Jongho asked, giving her a warm smile.

Nari nodded eagerly, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she handed Jongho her beloved stuffed toy, a soft, pink bunny that she affectionately called Woo. "Can you take Woo for me? And my bag? So, I can take my car with me," she asked, her voice filled with anticipation and trust.

Jongho smiled warmly, taking the stuffed bunny and her small backpack. "Of course, princess. I'll take good care of Woo and your bag," he reassured her, his tone gentle and affectionate. He slung her bag over his shoulder and carefully cradled the stuffed bunny in his other arm.

Nari beamed up at him, "Thank you, Uncle Jongho! I can't wait to show everyone my new car," she said, clutching the toy tightly in her small hands. The prospect of the day's adventures filled her with joy, and she could hardly contain her enthusiasm.

Jongho chuckled softly, feeling a sense of pride and happiness as he watched her. "You're very welcome, Nari. Let's get going and show everyone just how amazing your new car is," he said, leading her towards the door. Jongho gathered both his and Nari's belongings, carefully organizing everything to ensure they had what they needed for the day. He then secured the child seat under one arm, while gently lifting Nari into his other arm. She wrapped her tiny arms tightly around his neck, her head resting against his shoulder. The warmth of her embrace filled him with a sense of peace and purpose. As he balanced the child seat and Nari, he couldn't help but chuckle to himself, silently thanking San for all those rigorous gym sessions that now made it easier to handle such moments. With everything in place, Jongho felt a renewed sense of determination and affection as they headed out, ready to embark on their adventure together.

As they walked out of the apartment and headed towards the parking lot, Nari's cheerful chatter filled the air. She talked excitedly about all the things she wanted to do with her new car, her imagination running wild with possibilities. Jongho listened attentively, his heart swelling with affection for the little girl. "I bet Uncle Wooyoung is going to be so impressed," Nari said, her voice brimming with excitement. "I can't wait to see their faces when they see my car zoom around!"

Jongho nodded, sharing her enthusiasm. "I'm sure they will be. Your car is cool, and I know they'll love it just as much as you do," he replied, his tone filled with warmth and encouragement.

As Jongho approached the car, he struggled to figure out how to properly install the child seat. His hands fumbled with the straps, and he let out a frustrated sigh. Just then, he noticed a young man a few cars away, facing a similar challenge. The man was holding a small girl, who seemed to be around Nari's age, and had a tiny baby in a carrier strapped to his chest. Determined to get some help, Jongho decided to approach the man. "Excuse me?" he called out, his voice polite but tinged with urgency. "Could you help me with this child seat? I'm having a bit of trouble."

The young man looked up from his own struggle, his face softening with understanding. "Sure thing, just give me a moment," he replied, shifting the baby carrier slightly to free one hand. He walked over to Jongho, his small daughter trailing behind him, and offered a reassuring smile. "These can be a real pain, can't they?"

Jongho nodded, grateful for the assistance. "Absolutely. I appreciate your help," he said, stepping aside to give the man better access to the seat. As the young man expertly adjusted the straps and secured the child seat, Jongho couldn't help but feel a sense of admiration. "You've got your hands full," Jongho commented, nodding towards the baby and the little girl.

The man chuckled softly, a hint of pride in his eyes. "Yeah, it's a bit hectic, but I wouldn't trade it for anything," he said warmly. "You'll get the hang of it. Just takes a bit of practice."

Jongho smiled, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over him. "Thanks again. It means a lot," he said sincerely.

"We dads need to help each other, right?" The guy smiled at him, and Jongho couldn't help but smile back, nodding gently.

"Yeah, you're absolutely right," Jongho replied, feeling a sense of camaraderie. "It's nice to know there are other dads willing to lend a hand when you need it."

The man adjusted the baby carrier on his chest and nodded in agreement. "Absolutely. Parenting can be challenging, but the love of your kids makes it all worthwhile."

With the child seat now properly installed, he gave the man a grateful smile. "Thanks again. You've been a huge help," he said, feeling a sense of relief.

The man waved it off with a kind smile. "No problem at all. Take care and have a great day with your little daughter," he replied, heading back to his own car.

"Daughter?" Nari repeated the word, her big brown eyes looking up at Jongho, curiosity evident in her gaze.

Jongho smiled gently, crouching down to her level. "Yes, princess. He thought you were my daughter," he explained softly, his eyes filled with warmth. "And in many ways, you are very special to me, just like a daughter."

Nari's face lit up with a smile, and she wrapped her small arms around Jongho's neck. "I like that, Uncle Jongho," she said, her voice filled with affection. "Mommy told me I will meet my daddy soon, and I hope he will be just like you."

Jongho's heart swelled with emotion at Nari's words. He gently held her tighter, feeling a deep sense of affection and responsibility. "Thank you, princess. That means a lot to me," he said softly, his voice filled with warmth. "I know your daddy will be wonderful, and until then, I'll always be here for you."

Nari smiled brightly, her eyes sparkling with happiness. "You're the best," she said, her voice filled with certainty. Jongho felt a lump form in his throat as he looked at the little girl in his arms. He wished with all his heart that he could tell her right away, that he could let out the words he had been holding back. He longed to hear her call him daddy, to feel the warmth of that precious word fill the air between them. But he knew he couldn’t just tell her. Not yet. It wasn’t the right time, and he had to wait for the perfect moment to reveal the truth, no matter how much it pained him to keep it inside. With a deep breath, Jongho gently kissed Nari's forehead.

He carefully placed Nari in her seat, ensuring that she was securely fastened. He double-checked the straps, making sure they were snug but comfortable. Once he was satisfied that everything was in place, he closed the car door gently and walked around to the driver's side.

As he settled into the driver's seat, Jongho glanced back at Nari through the rearview mirror. "Are you comfortable, princess?" he asked, his voice filled with warmth and concern.

Nari nodded eagerly, her eyes shining with excitement. "Yes, Uncle! I'm ready to go!" she replied, clutching her remote-controlled car tightly.

Jongho smiled, feeling a sense of contentment wash over him. He started the car, "Alright, let's get going," he said, pulling out of the parking spot and heading towards their destination. As he began driving towards the studio, Jongho couldn't help but glance at Nari through the rearview mirror. She was happily playing with her car, her face full of joy and innocence. The sight filled him with a sense of determination. He wanted to make sure she always felt safe, loved, and cherished. Jongho’s playlist was playing softly in the background as he drove, the gentle hum of the engine and the music creating a peaceful atmosphere.

Suddenly, an ATEEZ song began to play, and Nari's eyes widened with excitement. She sat up straighter in her seat, her face lighting up with recognition. "Uncle! It's your song! It’s Wave!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with joy and wonder. "Play it louder, please!"

Jongho glanced back at her through the rearview mirror, a smile spreading across his face at her enthusiasm. "You like this song?" he asked, reaching for the volume knob.

Nari nodded eagerly, her eyes sparkling. "Yes! I love it! ATEEZ are the best singers!" Feeling a swell of pride, Jongho turned up the volume, letting the familiar melody fill the car. As the music played, Nari began to sing along, her sweet voice mingling with the song. Jongho couldn't help but join in, his deep, melodic voice harmonizing with hers. The car was filled with the joyful sound of their singing, and for a moment, it felt like the rest of the world faded away. It was just the two of them, sharing this special moment together. Jongho felt a deep sense of contentment wash over him, grateful for the bond they started to create.

As the song ended, Nari's laughter rang out, pure and happy. "That was so fun, Uncle Jongho! Can we sing more of your songs?"

Jongho chuckled, his heart full. "Of course, princess. As many as you like. What's your favorite ATEEZ song?" Jongho asked, glancing back at her through the rearview mirror with a smile.

Nari thought for a moment, her face lighting up. "I think it's Wonderland! It's so exciting and makes me want to dance!" she replied, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.

Jongho chuckled, "That's a great choice, princess. Let's play Wonderland next, and we can sing together!" he said, reaching for the music system to queue up the song.

"Or maybe you could sing Everything for me?" she suggested, her eyes wide with anticipation. "It's mommy's favorite, and I always sing it for her." Nari's voice was filled with a mixture of excitement and a hint of nostalgia, as if the song held a special place in her heart.

Jongho's heart softened at her request, and he couldn't help but smile. "Of course, princess," he replied warmly. "I'd be honored to sing it for you." He adjusted the car's music system, finding the song and letting the soft melody fill the car. As Jongho sang the heartfelt lyrics, his voice was filled with deep emotion. Each word carried the weight of his memories and feelings for you. The song was a reminder of the love and connection you shared, making it both a beautiful and bittersweet experience. Jongho's voice trembled slightly as he conveyed the longing and regret expressed in the lyrics, yet also the enduring love that persisted despite the passage of time. Glancing back through the rearview mirror, Jongho saw Nari's eyes sparkling with joy as she listened intently. Her small hands were clasped together, cherishing every note. The sight filled him with a sense of purpose and determination. He wanted Nari to feel the depth of his emotions and understand just how much you, her mom, meant to him, and by extension, how much Nari herself was cherished and loved.

When the song ended, Nari's eyes were shining with happiness. "Thank you, Uncle Jongho," she said softly, her voice filled with gratitude. "Mommy always says that Everything is the most beautiful song."

Jongho could feel his eyes swelling up with tears, he blinked qucikly to get rid of them, worrying about how his little girl would react. "I'm glad Mommy thinks that" he replied, his voice tenderly. "Your mommy is special to me, and I'm happy she likes my solo song," Jongho said softly, his eyes filled with warmth and sincerity.

Nari's eyes sparkled with curiosity and affection. "Mommy says your songs make her feel better when she's sad," she shared, her voice soft and earnest. "She always sings along with them, and it makes me happy too."

Jongho's heart swelled with emotion at her words. "That means so much to me, Nari," he replied gently. "Music has a special way of connecting people and bringing joy, and I'm glad my songs can do that for you and your mommy. You both hold a very special place in my heart."

As they continued their journey, Jongho felt a sense of peace settle over him. He cherished these moments with Nari, knowing that each one was building a deeper bond between them. The thought of seeing the rest of the members and sharing this special part of his life with them filled him with anticipation and warmth.

They finally pulled into the studio parking lot, he parked the car and turned to Nari with a warm smile. "We're here, princess. Are you ready to meet Uncle Wooyoung and the others?" he asked, his voice filled with anticipation.

Nari nodded eagerly, her eyes shining with excitement. "Yes! I can't wait!" she replied, clutching her car tightly.

Jongho was about to leave the car when he noticed a few fans taking pictures of the KQ building. As his car came into view, it ignited a ripple of excitement among the fans, their expressions lighting up with anticipation. They craned their necks and murmured to each other, clearly eager to see which member of ATEEZ had arrived. Jongho took a deep breath, feeling a mix of gratitude and responsibility. He knew that these fans were part of the reason why he and the group had come so far. But they couldn't have picked a worse time to be here. He sighed deeply, contemplating his limited options. Staying in the car any longer would only raise suspicion among the fans, who were already buzzing with excitement and anticipation. They would undoubtedly start to wonder what was taking him so long to get out. The last thing he wanted was to draw unnecessary attention to himself and, more importantly, to Nari. Taking her inside with him was out of the question. The moment one of the fans snapped a picture, it would spread like wildfire across social media, sparking rumors and causing a scandal right away. Jongho knew he had to be cautious. The privacy and safety of Nari were paramount, and he couldn't risk exposing her to the public eye in such an unplanned manner. He glanced back at Nari, who was clutching her toy with wide eyes, clearly sensing the tension in the air. Jongho's mind raced as he tried to come up with a solution. He needed to find a way to get inside without attracting too much attention and without putting Nari in the spotlight. He took a deep breath, his mind working quickly to formulate a plan. He considered calling one of the other members for assistance, but that would take time and might still draw attention. He needed a distraction, something to divert the fans' focus away from the car long enough for him to safely get Nari inside. As he weighed his options, Jongho's phone buzzed with a message. It was from San, asking if he had arrived yet. A spark of hope ignited within him. Maybe, just maybe, San could help create a diversion. Jongho quickly typed a response, explaining the situation and asking for his help. Within moments, San replied with a plan. He would come out and engage with the fans, drawing their attention while Jongho made his way inside with Nari. It wasn't foolproof, but it was the best option they had.

Jongho looked back at Nari, giving her a reassuring smile. "Alright, princess, we're going to need a little help from Uncle San. Just hug me tightly, and everything will be fine," he said gently, his voice filled with determination and warmth. Nari nodded, her trust in him unwavering. Jongho felt a surge of affection and responsibility as he prepared to put their plan into action. He waited for San's signal, ready to move swiftly and protectively.

As San stepped out of the building and greeted the fans with his usual charm, Jongho saw his opportunity. He carefully unbuckled Nari from her seat, lifting her into his arms. With her stuffed animal in one hand and Nari securely in the other, Jongho quietly exited the vehicle, keeping his movements smooth and deliberate. San’s presence had the desired effect. The fans were momentarily distracted, their attention fully captured by the charismatic idol. Jongho moved swiftly but calmly, making his way towards the entrance with Nari held close to his chest. She wrapped her tiny arms around his neck, her face nestled against his neck, trusting him completely. They reached the entrance without incident, slipping inside the building just as the fans began to realize what was happening. Jongho breathed a sigh of relief, grateful for San’s quick thinking and support. He looked down at Nari, who was gazing up at him with wide, trusting eyes.

"Good job, princess," Jongho whispered, his voice filled with both relief and pride. Nari nodded, a small smile forming on her lips. Jongho knew he still had to be cautious, but for now, they had successfully navigated a potentially risky situation. He felt a renewed sense of determination to protect Nari and ensure that she always felt safe and loved. As they made their way deeper into the building, Jongho couldn't help but feel a deep sense of gratitude for San’s support. He sent a quick text to San, thanking him for the help and letting him know they had made it inside safely. San replied with a thumbs-up emoji and a promise to join them soon. With a sigh of relief, Jongho carried Nari through the familiar hallways of the headquarters, her small arms still wrapped around his neck. They reached the practice room where the rest of the ATEEZ members were gathered, eagerly awaiting their arrival.

#jongho x reader #jonhgo x you #jongho x you #jongho series #jongho fanfiction #jongho fanfic #ateez #finding our way back series

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mxdarling · 8 months ago

Text

[“put that down! you’ll hurt yourself with that.” / “you’re so pretty when you smile.”]

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅• •❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

ೃ⁀➷: summary: idia bought a new multiplayer game, and he wants to play it with his player one, you.

ೃ⁀➷: word count: 2.3k (2334)

ೃ⁀➷: reference/Inspiration: playlist

ೃ⁀➷: event: [200 followers event]

[author's note:] JDJDKD MORE IDIA CONTENT WOOHOOO this was supposed to be his belated birthday gift from me but uhh cough cough writer block hit me like a bitch soo.. didn't finish before new years, and it's now like- 4 months late??? anyways, thank you anon for requesting idia with dialogue #3 and #7!! my last yandere idia work had him a little creepy so i made him cute this time loll i hope it's to your satisfaction anon!

[warnings:] lowercase, yandere behavior, more fluff than yandere, established relationship, reader is a gamer, cuddling, kisses, reader is ticklish, poor explanation of game mechanics, mentions of fear for judgement, reader is portrayed as a crybaby, one paragraph mentions idia being a creep, game is a rip-off of minecraft (fantasy version), toxic teammates.

[note:] If there is anything else triggering here that I didn’t list in the warnings section, please tell me. i don’t condone this type of behavior, this is merely just for entertaining purposes and some sort of coping mechanism for me. if you continue to read beyond this point, ignoring my warnings, i am not responsible for your actions from here on out.

[GN reader]

IDIA SHROUD seemed to be in a good mood today, at least according to what you've seen so far. probably because his latest purchase is the cause of his being in such an upbeat mood. not that you're complaining; it was rather cute seeing him all excited and giddy when he found a new game to play. it's like a whole new, different side of him comes out whenever he starts to ramble about the features of the game and why he should absolutely play it right now. of course, as his player one, you're automatically going to be the first person he's going to play with. not that you mind, really. playing with idia was always a fun experience; it reminded you a lot of how you would spend your free time back in your world.

(those days of laziness, those days of unproductivity where you did nothing but lay down on your bed and do nothing—no school work to do, no club activities to do, no studying for an upcoming exam—just pure idleness. then when you're bored, you could just use your phone, PC, or iPad to entertain you as the day goes by, playing nonstop until late hours in the evening. god, you miss those days.)

you often wondered what genre of video games this new world had to offer. you knew that it wouldn't be so different from your own world, but you weren't sure just how many of your friends were affiliated with gaming entertainment. out of fear that judgement would be placed upon you if you shared this interest of yours, your love for video games has been hidden—so to find someone else (with that someone else being idia) that likes video games and is very well versed in them is a dream come true. it was a long process to get him to play with you, let alone consider you a friend and not try to avoid you every 2 seconds—still, it was a feat you were proud of because now you get to experience many, many different sides of idia that you would have never known 9 months ago.

(you once heard idia curse like at least twenty times in one breathe when one of his teammates was being shitty and a prick, he sounded so angry and scary that you backed into a corner to avoid getting burnt by his scorching, bright red hair that grew the more angrier he got. the only reason he stopped was when he heard quiet sobs in the corner of his room and turned around away from his computer to see you huddled in the corner of his room. quickly he went over there, completely abandoning his game and comforting you. he hates seeing his cute prefect cry, especially because of him, he's not the great at comforting but when he hugged you so tightly, your quiet sobs turned into silence. right then and there he swore to never be the reason you're crying and when you do, he'll be right there with you.)

you are currently cross-sitting in his very comfy bed, watching as idia set up two controllers and plugged in the PCs to turn them on (you're still surprised he's got more than 2 PCs, which, if you really think about it, his family background makes it make sense). after waiting for the PCs to turn on, he then connects the controllers to the PCs and opens up the game on both screens. you would insist on helping him set up, but due to you literally being isekai'd into this unknown world of twisted wonderland, you aren't too familiar with many things besides the whole magic stuff—plus, you aren't too keen on breaking any of idia's stuff because of your lack of knowledge on how to do technology.

(technology in general is so extremely confusing, you would argue wholeheartedly all day and all night, and idia would agree with you and low-key flex on how knowledgeable he is in the field of technology, just to impress you and show how reliable he is. secretly, he likes it when he's useful to you.)

"sorry! it took a while to set up..." in slightly shaking hands, he hands over the controller to you while holding the other in his free hand. he looked rather nervous when he faced you to give the controller, like he's worried he wasted your time waiting for him. it reminded you of a puppy looking up to its owner apologetically when they did something wrong, so cute, you thought, adorable even, you added.

"haha! it's okay! you didn't take that long anyway." you gave him a reassuring look, a soft smile, and bright eyes, showing him that you weren't bothered by having to wait a bit as he set up for you two to play.

both screens show the in-game loading screen, and the bar quickly fills up due to the fast internet speed (one you're quite envious of). slowly it fades to the starting screen, where a big text is bouncing 'tap to start' in both of your faces. Idia presses to start immediately, wanting to get into gameplay as fast as he can while you take a moment to admire the visual aspects and effects of the game in silent awe. you always had a thing for the visual stuff that was shown in-game. by slowly pressing the button on your control, you enter the game and begin a fantastical journey with idia.

“put that down! you’ll hurt yourself with that!” he says worriedly as he watches you damage your avatar's HP bar this early in gameplay. usually he gets really annoyed when he plays with noobs and normies; they stink at comprehending basic knowledge, do dumb things in-game, ask too many questions, and ruin the whole gameplay experience for him. 'ugh, how annoying.' is his usual reaction to such—of course he wouldn't think of that towards you! never ever would he ever think this way towards you; even if you do things noobs and normies usually do, he can't bring himself to be annoyed—you were too cute in his eyes. he would never admit this to your face, though, and he still gets red just at the thought of him thinking you are cute. It's true though; don't get him wrong, but... the embarrassment that comes with thinking about these thoughts is just too much for his poor little heart! honestly, he's for sure that one day you'll be the death of him, does he care though? not really; in fact, he would probably love that.

(he blushes so hard whenever he thinks of you in his clothes; it's the way your natural scent clings onto his shirts, the way his shirts made you even cuter than you already are—one of the only reasons he doesn't wash his clothes immediately because he wants to savor your smell to memory. he's a creep, yes, but he's one devoted creep.)

"whoops! sorry didn't see that, haha..." nervously laughing at your mistake, you eat whatever consumable you have in your inventory to try and restore as much health as you lost. as your avatar munches on the food in its hand, from the corner of your screen, you can see idia's avatar walking towards you. once it's near enough to your avatar, you can see the animation of a bunch of items being dropped and your inventory picking up due to the proximity between the items and your avatar. you opened your inventory, curious about what he just gave you since it looked like quite a lot of items, and confused about why he was giving you so many items in the first place. your eyes widen in shock as the items he's given you are one stack of steak, every weapon in-game (sword, axe, pickaxe, shovel, hoe), but in steel, and a full set of steel armor.

your mouth continues to gape open as you put on the armor set on your avatar. how did he get so much stuff this fast? it hasn't even been an hour yet! "where.. did you get so much stuff!?" you ask naively, following idia around as you don't want to get lost, die, and lose all your stuff. "stole half of those from villages, some from mining, and a few from trading" he says so casually as he continues to walk in an unknown direction, like this was a regular thing for him, not to mention this was a hard difficulty! he's playing this game like it's not easy mode! "could've gotten more if it weren't for those stingy mobs..." furrowing his eyebrows, he let out a small huff of frustration, pressing slightly harder on the buttons on his controller, not noticing how your mouth dropped down even further at his passing comment. as she presses on, walking in an unknown direction, you're hit with the hundredth reminder that he's on a whole other level than you when it comes to gaming.

three hours in, and you guys decided to play on public servers, where you'll get to play different game modes other than the usual story and survival modes. once the two of you picked a game to play, the room quickly filled with laughter, shouting, incoherent grumbling, screams of terror, and many more in between. you two decided to save a team game as last since idia wasn't enthusiastic about playing together with other players because he just wanted to play with you, and there was an underlying fear that you would encounter toxic teammates. but since you were practically begging him to just try it at least once, he couldn't help but give in to your pleas.

it was fun, he supposed. it wasn't as annoying or infuriating as he thought it would be, but he still had to keep up not making really snarky remarks when certain players were interacting with you. he'd hate to have you see such a mean, ugly, and disgusting side of him. other than that, it was an okay experience. he thinks it would've been better if it was just him and you on a team; wouldn't it be kind of romantic? you and him against everyone else?

then what he feared most would happen actually happened. suddenly some fucking jerk is screaming insults at you for not being good enough, and before that teammate got two more words in, he exploded on them. curses upon curses spit out his mouth in rapid speed, and the voices of that said teammate slowly but surely die down as their ego and pride go down with them. in the midst of anger and chaos between him and the teammate, you could feel tears building up inside you; everything around you started to blur, and the sounds that filled your ears were starting to get tuned out. you couldn't even hear that idia stopped screaming curses, turned off both PCs, and went to take the controller from your hand, lift you up into his lap, and slowly wrap his arms around you.

once he had you fully in his grasp, he tightened his grip, making sure not to let you get away from him. he wasn't good at words, especially when trying to comfort someone, but seeing you cry was making him cry too. he did, after all, swear to always be with you when you cry. raising one of his hands, he placed it at the back of your head and gently pushed towards his neck. then his hand went down to rub your back, up and down, up and down, at a slow pace. letting you cry it all out in peace while also letting you know he's there with you.

a few minutes have passed, and your sobs have gone silent. your eyes have become droopy and sleepy, and it feels almost impossible to keep them open. suddenly, a hand lifts your chin, and you feel a pair of lips come into contact with your forehead. it wasn't like a quick kiss; no, the kiss lasted for at least a few seconds before pulling away. even then, upon pulling away, you feel another kiss on your cheek, this time a little quicker than the forehead kiss. then another kiss on your other cheek, then another on your nose, another on your jawline, another on your earlobes, and finally, his lips hovered over your own lips.

you could feel the hesitation when he let out a nervous breath; the thought of your lips on his always sends him into an electrifying and drunken daze. he can't think straight when he's this close to you, but even then, it gives him an unusual feeling of contentment and confidence. the luck he has to be able to snag such an adorable, cute, amazing, and beautiful person like you in his life. he almost can't believe it. swallowing his own nervousness for your comfort, he presses against your soft lips delicately. soon after making physical contact with your lips, he feels a smile form on your face—a small smile, yet it was enough for him. any smile from you is enough for him, because seeing you happy is the best view he could ever lay his eyes on.

feeling out of breath, he's the first to let go but also the first to frown at the loss of touch. i want to stay like this forever, he thought as he watched you emit a giggle after the kiss. fire burns brightly in his heart, and he starts to wonder if you being the death of him will really come true. his cheeks burn that ever-warm red that he knows you've seen many, many times before, but he can't help it. when you pull him into a world through rose-tinted glasses, no way could he be immune to such an effect.

"i really can’t take it when you cry like that… smile for me, alright? you’re so pretty when you smile."

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅• •❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

PLEASE DO NOT COPY, REPOST, SHARE, TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO OTHER SITES WITHOUT MY PERMISSION + REBLOGS AND COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED.

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